Warwick Deeping

“ Uther's eyes were on the horseman in the valley.
"I am even as a child," he said.
Merlin's lips quivered.
"The dawn breaks, sire, the night is past. Tidings come to us. Let us ride on."
Uther seemed sunk in thought; he bowed his head, and looked long into the valley.
"Am I he who slew Gorlois?"
"Courage, sire."
"My blood is as water, my heart as wax. Death and destiny are over my head."
"Speak not of destiny, sire, and look not to the skies. In himself is man's power. Thou hast broken the crucifix. Now trust thine own soul. ”

“ Nay, that man should be mine who moved godlike in the world, and strangled fate with the grip of truth. Great deeds are better than prayers. See! it is young Tristan who comes."
The horseman in the valley had swept at a gallop through a sea of sun-bronzed fern. He was a young knight on a black horse, caparisoned in green and gold. A halo of glistening curls aureoled his boyish face; his eyes were full of a restless radiance, the eyes of a man whose heart was troubled. He sprang from the saddle, and leading his horse by the bridle, kissed the scabbard of Uther's sword.
"Tidings, sire." ”

“ A horn sounded in the woods, wild, clamorous and exultant. It was as the voice of a prophet cleaving the despair of a godless world. Even the trees stood listening. Far below in the green shadows of the valley a horseman moved brilliant as a star that portents the conception of a king. ”