epilogue

in March of the following year, King Richard stepped ashore in England, a free man at last. He had himself crowned again in Winchester Cathedral, but Philip was creating trouble in France without any help from the late and unlamented John, so Richard wasted little time in crossing the Narrow Sea yet again. In the five years remaining to him, he busied himself in his dukedoms and counties, and never returned to his kingdom.

Within a month of John’s death, Arthurian supporters in Brittany had smuggled Dowager Duchess Constance, together with her daughter and her six-year-old son, out of France, and brought them safe to England, for there was now no denying that young Arthur would be his uncle’s heir presumptive until such time as Queen Berengaria produced a son. She never did, and Richard died at Chalus-Chabrol in April, 1199, in the manner I had foreseen. I had never tried to warn him of my vision. He had never sent for me or consulted me. Our last glimpses of each other had been on Christmas Day in Dürnstein Castle.

At his own request, the Duke of Brittany, then aged twelve, was crowned as Arthur II in Winchester, not Westminster as was customary. Winchester was renowned as an Arthurian town.

Archbishop Walter Hubert of Canterbury was appointed regent until the new king should came of age, two years later. Much to my surprise, Regent Hubert left me in the office of enchanter general, but I believe this was at the insistence of the king himself, who is much taken with the exploits of his great namesake. He always addresses me as “Merlin.”

If he continues to reign as well as he has done these last five years, he will be well remembered and England can expect many more kings of his name in the future.