Emrys let his horse fall behind the others’. Lila watched Arthur and the others get further and further ahead; dread curled in the pit of her stomach.

Emrys’ words stirred the air beside her ear. “You’re no merchant’s daughter, are you?”

Lila tried to think up a reply, but his arm was tight around her waist, and he could cut off her breath at any moment. For so slender a man he was strong – stronger from his magic, no doubt.

“The druids have been known to raise warrior women who are as skilled in sorcery as they are in deceit and seduction,” Emrys said. “For all that Arthur is a married man, he knows of his wife’s treachery, and a bold woman has never failed to turn his head. Why are you here really, Lady Lila?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not – from here.”

“I guessed as much.”

“I mean I’m not from this time. I’m from the future.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I know how Arthur dies, because in my time he is already dead.”

“I’ve had visions. Any other witch worth her salt has seen them too.”