A commotion began in the stands to the right of the Royal Enclosure. Bane glanced round, to see Telors pushing people out of the way and clambering over a low wall and grabbing a large padded drumstick from a surprised drummer. Hoisting the huge drum to the wall Telors began a slow, steady beat that boomed like distant thunder around the arena.
Out on the sand the two fighters paused momentarily as the drum sounded.
Voltan was more tired than he appeared. His years as a Stone Knight had been wonderfully fulfilling, but an arena duel needed the kind of specialist training he had not undertaken for years. His sword arm felt heavy. His opponent was even more weary, however, and Voltan would at least take pleasure in killing him. He had always wondered how good Rage really was. Now he knew, and, deep down, he was glad they had not fought earlier. The old man's reflexes were surprisingly sharp, as was the speed of his counters.
The sun was high and hot, and a heat haze was rising from the sand. Voltan circled the older man. 'What made you want to fight me?' he asked. Rage did not reply. 'Too weary to talk, old man?' sneered Voltan. Rage merely smiled. Irritated, Voltan leapt to the attack. Rage parried. Voltan struck out with his left fist. Rage swayed away from the blow and thundered a left hook into Voltan's jaw. Voltan rolled with the blow and spun away as Rage's gladius hissed through the air. As Rage rushed in for the kill Voltan parried a thrust and lunged. The blade struck Rage's belt buckle and glanced away.
'Lucky, lucky!' said Voltan, seeking to unsettle his opponent. But Rage remained focused, not bothering to reply. In his movement, however, there was a growing exhaustion. 'Not much strength left now, Rage,' said Voltan. 'How does it feel to know you are going to die?'
Still no response, and Voltan began to feel a growing irritation. He had always found a way to unsettle opponents, to make them rash, or careless, to dismantle their concentration. But not Rage. It was as if he was fighting a statue made flesh, a creature without feelings or emotions.
Even so, Voltan was winning. It was just a question of time. As they circled he noted that Rage's sword was a little lower than before, as if its weight was dragging it down. The old man was also breathing heavily. 'Perhaps you should rest a little,' said Voltan conversationally. 'Step back and catch your breath.' As he spoke he attacked, almost taking Rage by surprise. The old man's sword came up more slowly than before, and Voltan's blade slid by it, glancing off Rage's ribs and ripping the skin. Rage spun on his heel, turning full circle, and lashed out. Voltan only partly blocked the cut and the blade sliced the flesh of his shoulder. He leapt back. Rage did not follow up his attack and Voltan grinned as he realized the old man had come, at last, to the end of his strength.
Then the drum sounded. Voltan blinked and glanced to the crowd, locating the black-bearded Telors.
As the beats sounded out, the crowd, knowing of Rage's legend, began to clap their hands in time to the booming drum. Voltan returned his attention to Rage, and saw that the old gladiator was standing straighter now, and in his dark eyes there was a gleam where before there had been only weariness. Voltan swore. It was going to take longer to kill the old bastard now.
Rage took one deep breath, then advanced. 'Cara sends her love,' he said softly, his voice friendly and warm.
For a moment only Voltan froze. Then Rage was upon him. Voltan parried desperately, but Rage's sword tore into his belly, ripping up through a lung and out through his back. Voltan sagged against Rage, letting go of his sword and resting his head on his killer's shoulder.
'Clever . . . move,' he whispered.
'It needed to be, boy,' said Rage, lowering him to the ground.
The crowd erupted in applause, and a burst of cheering filled the stadium.
'I ... think . . . they're glad to see me die.' Voltan forced a smile. 'You should ... get those wounds stitched.'
'I'll wait awhile,' said Rage.
Voltan lay quietly for a moment. There was no pain, and he felt curiously at peace. 'Does . . . Cara . . . know about me?' he asked.
'No. Nor will she. She's a fine girl though, strong, courageous and loyal. Any man would be proud to be her father.'
'I would have been . . . had I known.'
Voltan's head rolled to the side. He found himself staring at the two execution stakes erected at the centre of the arena, rising like spikes from mounds of oil-soaked brushwood.
'She forgave me,' he whispered. But Rage did not hear him.
Bane sagged against the railing as Rage rose from beside the dead Voltan. The old gladiator raised his sword in salute to the emperor, then strode from the arena, thunderous applause ringing in his ears. Slaves ran out to grab the dead Voltan's heels and drag his body across the sand.
From the far end of the arena came a troop of soldiers, leading out two figures. The first was Nalademus. As he saw the stake he began to struggle, throwing himself to the ground. Soldiers hauled him up and dragged him towards the pyres. He screamed and shouted, and the crowd jeered.
A little way back came the Veiled Lady. She was small, and slim, her pale blue dress gleaming with oil. Two soldiers were holding her bare arms, but she did not struggle, and walked with her veiled head held high.
'Burn them! Burn them! Burn them!' chanted the crowd.
'I suppose', said Jasaray, 'that I should offer you another wish, since Rage has robbed you of your revenge. Ask and it shall be given to you. You want Voltan's estates, or other lands. Chests of gold perhaps.'
Bane was staring down into the arena. 'I'll take her,' he said softly. 'Give me her life.'
'What? You know her?'
'No.'
'Then think again, Bane. She is the heart of these Cultists, and if I pardon her there will be a riot.'
'You said I could ask anything, Majesty,' Bane reminded him.
Jasaray's face hardened. 'At this moment I am your friend, Bane. Emperors are good friends to have. If you persist in this, you will become my enemy, and there will be no place for you in Stone or any of the lands of Stone. Why make me your enemy for a woman you do not know?'
Bane stared down at the woman, and listened to the baying of the crowd. While Nalademus screamed and begged, she merely stood, shoulders back, aloof and proud, the jeering of the crowd washing over her. 'She has courage,' he said softly. 'And, with all due respect, Majesty, I think her life is worth far more than your friendship.'
Jasaray rose from his seat and walked to the balcony's edge. The guards holding the prisoners were waiting for his signal. He pointed to the woman, beckoning the guards to bring her forward. He swung to Bane, his expression calm, but his eyes angry. 'Go down and collect your prize,' he said. 'You have two days to leave Stone -never to return.'
Bane bowed and walked from the enclosure.
In the arena Nalademus was dragged screaming to the stake. Bane ran down the aisle to the lowest level, climbed over the wall and leapt the twelve feet to the arena floor. He approached the guards holding the woman. 'The emperor has granted her freedom,' he said. The guards glanced up at the tall, stooping figure of Jasaray, who nodded to them. Instantly they released the arms of the Veiled Lady.
A single trumpet sounded, and the flames were lit beneath Nalademus. His terrible cries were pitiful, and the crowd hooted and yelled abuse at him. The Veiled Lady turned towards the tortured man and raised her hand. The Stone elder's head came up and he stared through the rising smoke at the frail woman in blue. His screams ceased, and he rested his head back against the stake. Rising plumes of smoke covered him.
'What did you do?' whispered Bane.
'I took away his pain,' said the woman.
Without his cries of agony there was no entertainment for the crowd, and they began to shout for the Veiled Lady's death. Bane took her arm and led her across the sand towards the gate to the Sword Room. Her clothes were slick with lantern oil, the smell sweet and pungent. She walked silently beside him, saying nothing. Once the mob realized she was not going to burn they began to yell and scream. A fight broke out in the western
stand. Soldiers moved in to quell it. Seats were ripped from the stone, and someone hurled a cushion at the Royal Enclosure. More and more soldiers poured into the stands. Bane reached the Sword Room and ushered the Veiled Lady inside.
Rage was sitting there, a surgeon stitching his wounds. His face was grey, and he was holding a blood-covered towel to the wound in his chest. The Veiled Lady moved to his side. Taking the towel from him she dropped it to the floor, then laid her slim hand upon the bleeding gash in his chest. The wound closed instantly. The surgeon stood by astonished, for where there had been an open cut, bleeding profusely, there was now a long white scar, perfectly healed. She did the same for the cut on his temple and the wound in his shoulder. As Bane watched he saw the colour return to Rage's cheeks.
'I thank you,' said Rage, taking her hand and kissing it.
'And I thank you, Vanni,' she said, 'for without your sacrifice I would have burned.' She turned slowly towards Bane and lifted her veil.
He gasped and almost fell back. 'Sweet heaven!' he whispered. His limbs began to tremble and shake, and he sank onto a bench seat.
The Veiled Lady was Lia.
The door burst open and Telors ran in, followed by the gladiator Brakus. 'There is a riot outside,' said Telors. 'Mobs are gathered at every exit. They are shouting for her death. And the soldiers have been withdrawn.'
Rage heaved himself to his feet and reached for his sword. 'There will be no need of weapons,' said Lia. 'Trust me!' Rage stood still for a moment, then turned his attention to Bane, who was sitting slumped on the bench.
'Are you all right, boy?'
Bane ignored him, and stared straight at the young woman in the glistening robes. 'I saw you die,' he said. 'I saw his sword cleave your heart.'
Lia sat beside him, taking his hand. 'I remember being stabbed by Voltan, and then my eyes opening in a wagon. The surgeon, Ralis, was beside me. The next face I recall was of an old woman, hooded and veiled. It was a dream. We were walking in a forest, a place of exquisite beauty. There was someone else there, a shining figure, whose face I could not see. The shining figure reached out and touched the wound above my heart. The wound healed, and I felt something flowing into my veins. It was as if all my life I had been a dry well, and now the water of life was filling me. When next I woke I was in the house of Ralis, and he told me that the old woman had come to the Death House and saved me.'
'Why did you not come to me?' he asked, gripping her hand tightly.
'Ralis told me you had been killed. Two days later I boarded a ship for Goriasa. When next I heard of you it was as a killer in the arena, a man of blood. We took different paths, Bane. When I saw my father killed I wanted an end to violence, and set out to achieve it. When you saw me struck down you wanted blood and vengeance and death.'
'I love you,' said Bane, tears in his eyes. 'I have thought of you every day since last we met.'
'And I love you. Nothing will change that.'
'Then you will come with me to the mountains, as first we planned?'
She did not answer at first, and in the silence Bane knew that he had lost her a second time. 'I cannot be a wife to a man of blood. I will continue my work,' she said. 'Not in Stone, for another has taken my place. But I shall journey and preach. I shall find people who yearn for the spirit, and I will share with them the joys I have learned.'
'I tried to save you,' said Bane. 'I just was not strong enough then.'
'You did save me,' she whispered. 'I am sorry, Bane. I am sorry for both of us.'
Moving to his side she put her arms around him. He drew her in and kissed her cheek. 'Where will you go?' he asked.
To the far north. There is a tribe there who dwell in the White Mountains. I will bring the Source to them.'
'I have heard of that place,' said Brakus the Gladiator. 'Even the Vars shun the area. The tribes of the White Mountains are ferocious. Some even say they eat the hearts of their enemies.'
Lia smiled. 'Then they have great need of what I will bring to them.' She walked towards the door.
'The crowd will tear you apart, lady,' said Telors. 'We will come with you.'
Lia shook her head. 'No-one will see me, and no-one will harm me. Not yet. May the Source bless you all.' With that she walked from the room, towards the distant sounds of the rioting crowd.
Bane sat very still, his mind spinning. For more than two years he had lived with but a single thought, to avenge the murder of Lia. He had trained hard, eschewing all the comforts and pleasures of youth. Not for Bane the joys of the Occian whorehouse, or the wild and boisterous gatherings organized by the circus. Invitations from beautiful women, both married and unmarried, to attend them in their private chambers had been politely refused. Each night as Bane took to his bed he saw Voltan's face, and pictured the day he would bring justice to the killer.
Now he sat in the silence of the Sword Room, staring down at the marble floor.
Rage moved to the seat beside him. 'Talk to me, boy,' he said, putting his arm round the younger man.
'It was all for nothing,' whispered Bane.
'We should leave here before the mob ransacks the place,' said Telors. 'Having lost the Veiled Lady they may turn on you, Bane. They saw you lead her from the arena.'
'Get dressed,' said Rage softly. 'We'll go back to the villa and talk. Come on.' Taking Bane's arm he drew him to his feet. Still in a daze, the young Rigante stripped off his gladiator's kilt and greaves, and pulled on black leather leggings and a tunic shirt of thick blue wool edged with silver thread. Belting his sword around his waist he started to follow Brakus, Telors and Rage out of the room. The surgeon who had been treating Rage when the Veiled Lady healed him took hold of Bane's arm.
'Which goddess is she?' he whispered.
Bane shrugged the man away and caught up with the others. They walked up into the deserted arena, and along the wide corridor to the eastern exit. The gates were open and Bane could see the huge crowd outside. Brakus moved out first, followed by Telors and Rage. The three men formed a screen ahead of Bane, but someone in the crowd yelled out: 'There he is! It's the savage who freed her!'
The crowd surged around them. Someone pushed Brakus, and his fist lashed out, sending the man spinning from his feet. Just as the scene threatened to turn ugly Rage raised both his arms in the air.
'Silence!' he bellowed. The voice was commanding, and the crowd obeyed him. Rage waited for several heartbeats for the noise to subside. 'The emperor pardoned the Veiled Lady,' he said. 'And she is gone from this place. None of us know where. Now let us pass!' Instantly he moved forward and the crowd parted for him. Brakus, Telors and Bane walked through the mob, crossed the square and hailed a passing two-horsed carriage. As Bane sat down he caught a glimpse of a woman in a pale blue gown walking through the crowd. No-one noticed her or looked in her direction. Seeing him, she waved, then crossed the avenue, and into a side street.
Half an hour later the carriage arrived at the villa. Persis Albitane and Norwin were waiting for them at the front gate. Bane, Rage and Telors stepped down from the carriage. Brakus leaned over.
'An interesting day,' said the golden-haired gladiator. Telors grinned and shook his hand. 'I'll see you both, I hope, at my birthday celebrations.' Gesturing the driver to move on Brakus settled back in his seat and the carriage trundled away.
'Good man,' said Telors to Bane. 'I'm glad you didn't have to fight him.'
Bane said nothing, and walked towards the villa. Persis tried to speak to him, but Bane eased past, and went upstairs to his room, where he stood at the window, staring out over the bay.
Rage found him there some minutes later. 'It was not for nothing,' said Rage quietly. 'Had you not been in Stone, she would have died. You have tortured yourself for two years because you did not have the strength to save her. Yet now you have.'
Bane turned from the window. 'She thanked you, my friend. And she was right. I saved her by default, because the emperor offered me a second wish. Had Voltan killed you I would
have fought him, and she would have died. My need for vengeance would have killed her, and I would never have known.'
'It didn't happen, though,' Rage pointed out. 'You are a man, Bane, and a man makes choices, and lives with the consequences. I heard what she said to you about different paths. Yes, all gladiators can be criticized for those we have killed in the name of glory, or sport, or the pursuit of fame and riches. But the men we fought were also pursuing those goals, and stepped before us willingly. There was no malice on either side. You did not ask Voltan to change your life by attacking those you loved. His was the evil. Your actions since would be understood by every hero who ever walked the earth.' Rage sighed, then sat down on the bed. 'You know, I have listened to the preachings of the Cultists, and I like a lot of what they say. Indeed, I even believe in that greater power they speak of. There is no room in my heart for hatred, and - as they preach -I will offer the open hand of friendship to all those I meet. But if men broke into my house and offered harm to Cara or the servants I would cut them down without a moment's remorse. And had I been you, back in Accia, I would have crossed the world to find the man who brought death to those I loved. Now throw that weight from your shoulders, man! The girl is alive. We are all alive.'
'I thank the gods for that,' said Bane. 'With all my heart.' He looked at Rage. 'I will never forget what you did for me. It will live in my heart for ever.'
'You are not angry, then, that your vengeance was denied?'
'Angry? Oh, Rage, I could not be further from anger. When I watched you both I knew what you had been trying so hard to tell me. He - and you - are a different breed. I have never seen such focus, such power. I would have died out there. I know that with certainty. I could never be that good.'