"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Igraine asked softly, placing the infant in the arms of a bearded old man.
Uther Pendragon stood stocially behind his wife, his heavy hand tightening on her shoulder.
"It is for the best…he must be fostered away from the court…his destiny is great," the old man gazed down at the sleeping child. "Until he is ready…"
"How do we know we can trust you, Merlin?" Uther demanded.
The old man raised his wizened gaze to the hard brow of the king. "Because there are forces beyond your power, Uther, that will seek to destroy this boy and the kingdom that he is destined to build. The druids can keep him safe."
"You know how I feel about magic…" Uther warned.
Igraine laid a hand on his arm. "The Merlin won't let anything befall him…" The Queen's desperate eyes met the wizard's. "Look after him…please…and tell my sister…"
The Merlin smiled in sympathy. "Lady Morgana is safe on Avalon…where she is learning to fulfill her own role and the fate that awaits her."
The Merlin turned towards the door, his robes swirling around him as he cradled the infant boy closer.
"Merlin…" Uther stepped forward. He raised a shaking hand and placed it on the baby's brow. Leaning down, he kissed the downy flaxen curls. "May the gods protect you…Arthur."