beyond. Appius was standing there, dressed in a pale grey nightrobe. Beyond him was Lia.
'He had a vision,' said Bane.
'Yes, yes, we'll talk about it in the morning,' said Appius sharply, moving to stand between the naked Bane and his daughter.
'Are you all right, Appius?' asked Bane. 'As I said, it was only a vision. And it didn't concern you at all.'
'Lia! Go to your room,' snapped Appius, without turning to look back at her. Bane moved to the right.
'Sleep well,' he said. Lia laughed aloud, shook her head and moved from sight.
'You are naked,' said Appius sternly.
'So are you beneath that robe,' observed Bane.
'Exactly! Beneath the robe. In civilized societies it is considered… offensive to parade naked.'
'What is a parade?' asked Bane.
'To appear naked in public.'
'And why would that be?'
'Why? Because… it just is. I don't know why these customs appear. But it is especially offensive for a man to appear naked before a young virgin.'
Bane grinned. 'Are you mocking me, Appius?'
The older man sighed. 'No, I am not mocking you. If you appeared naked on the streets of Stone you would be arrested and flogged. And if you appeared so before a young woman of good family you would be either hanged or thrown into the arena to fight for your life. Now go to your room, take the robe that is hanging on your door and put it on. I feel the need of a goblet of wine. Then you can tell me about this… vision.'
Moments later, garbed in a fine robe of white, ankle-length cotton, Bane entered the main room. Appius handed him a silver goblet and the two men sat on the balcony, overlooking the town of Accia, and the star-dappled sea beyond.
'Why are you going to Stone?' asked the old general.
Bane shrugged. 'I promised Vorna I would see Banouin safe. He is not a fighter, but he draws trouble like flies to cow shit.'
'That's another thing you might want to consider,' said Appius. 'Your language. You speak Turgon well, and seem to have picked up some… interesting phrases. In polite company you should avoid using words associated with bodily functions or the nature of human intimacy. A citizen of Stone, for example, doesn't rise from the dinner table, as you did this evening, in order to 'piss'. He excuses himself and says he will rejoin the company presently. He doesn't open his leggings in order to scratch his privates.'
'Privates?' queried Bane.
'Balls!' snapped Appius.
'Ah. When is he allowed to scratch them?'
'In private. Hence 'privates'. You see?'
Bane nodded sagely, then drank his wine. 'You are a very strange people,' he said. 'You think nothing of enslaving tribes, butchering men, and bringing war and destruction to all the lands around you. Yet you find the sight of a penis offensive, and you don't talk about pissing. That is civilization, is it? War, murder and butchery are respectable, but a man without clothes risks a flogging?'
Appius laughed. 'I have not heard it argued quite so simplistically before, but yes, perhaps that is the essence of our civilization: personal privacy, national expansion. However, the rights and wrongs of it are meaningless. The fact is that these laws apply. You must walk and speak warily in Stone, Bane. It will be different for Banouin. He is the son of a prominent citizen, and will be carrying papers I shall give him, signifying his position. He will be accepted. You, however, will be watched carefully for any sign of barbarous behaviour.'
'You think me barbarous?'
'I am an old soldier, boy. I have seen men like you. Warriors, a little in love with death. Life without risk is nothing to you. A waste. If you find a chasm you must stand on the very tip, and dare the void to drag you in. If you see a horse no man can ride you must tame it. And if you see a man no-one can beat you must challenge him.'
'You see a lot, General.'
'More than you think. What is Connavar thinking of to send his son into Stone?'
'You know Connavar?' asked Bane warily.
'I fought alongside him in the Perdii wars, and against him at Cogden Field. Aye, I know him well enough to see him in you – even without the strange eyes. Tell no-one of your blood line, Bane. Or you will be dragged before Jasaray himself and used against your father.'
'I shall bear that in mind,' said Bane coolly. 'The gods know how much I love Connavar.'
Appius looked at him sharply, but said no more on the matter.
Bane stood and stretched, then asked the general a direct question. Appius laughed aloud.
'The correct way to ask that is: 'And where can a man find a relaxing spot, with pleasant female company?' And my answer is: I have not been here long enough to find out, young man. When I do I shall let you know. Perhaps tomorrow you should take a walk down to the docks. I don't doubt some publicly minded citizen will approach you and guide you to what you seek.'
'Baffling,' said Bane. Rising he left the room. As he did so he heard Lia's door click shut. He looked in on Banouin, who was now sleeping deeply, then returned to his bed.
As he lay down he found himself thinking of Lia. When first he had seen her at the river he thought her a pretty girl, nothing more. But earlier, when he had walked with her in the garden, he found himself noticing the tilt of her head as she laughed, the slender perfection of her neck, the fullness of her lips. And when they sat upon the bench, beneath the canvas canopy, he had caught the scent of her hair.
You've been without a woman too long, he told himself. And he fell asleep thinking of the dark-haired girl, and picturing himself walking with her on the slopes of the Druagh mountains, with the morning sun clearing the peaks, and the mist seeping from the Wishing Tree woods.
Oranus, the Captain of the Watch, was tired, his stomach full of cheap red wine, his head pounding. Midweek was usually quiet in Accia, and he had brought the flagon of wine to the small office fronting the cells. It would, he hoped, help give him a good night's sleep. Instead it had left his mood as sour as his belly.
He glared balefully at the small group of angry people crowding around his desk. They were all talking at once, their discordant voices matching the angry pounding behind his eyes. The woman he knew well, a whore who operated in the eastern dock area. The man beside her, sporting a broken nose and a swollen eye, was her pimp, Nestar. He was also the owner of a waterside tavern renowned for foul practices, including robbery, extortion, and the fleecing of customers. Two of his men stood close by. All bore signs of recent violent activity. The captain would have liked nothing better than to close Nestar's tavern, but the pimp had many friends in high places, including the merchant Macrios and the councillor Banyon. At forty-four – only eight months from retirement and a free parcel of land – Oranus had no desire to incur the wrath of powerful men.
Oranus rubbed his eyes and transferred his gaze to the thin man standing by the door. He did not recognize him. The man's face was dotted with spots of blood, and there were wooden splinters in the skin of his forehead. Just for a moment the sheer incongruity of the man's injuries lightened his headache. But only for a moment.
The morning had been quiet until the barbarian had been brought in. He glanced back at the chained tribesman, sitting glowering in the cell. He was young, and powerfully built, with long blond hair, a single braid hanging from the temple. He wore no tribal cloak, but Oranus felt sure he was not Cenii. There was something untamed about him, which suggested he had not endured the yoke of Stone. Perhaps Norvii or Rigante, he thought. Oranus filled a cup with water and drained it. Then he turned his attention back to the angry group.
'Silence!' he bellowed, as hammers of fire thudded at his temples. He pointed at the red-headed whore. 'You, Roxy. You speak first. The rest of you keep your mouths shut.'
'The bastard assaulted me, sir. Robbed me of my life's savings. Kicked in my door, he did, when I was with a friend. Hurled the friend through the window.'
That's me,' said the man at the back, with the splinters in his forehead. 'We were talking when the savage burst in. I tried to remonstrate, but he grabbed me and sent me flying into the shutters. I went straight through. Luckily there was a canopy under the window, which broke my fall.' He sighed. 'Bet he didn't know about the canopy,' he said. 'Strong canvas, luckily. Well made. Didn't even tear.'
'It is not even remotely possible that I could care less about the canopy,' said Oranus, leaning forward and
