heads on poles at the Cenii border?'
'The very same,' said Fiallach.
'A sound strategy,' said Jasaray. 'Terror is a potent weapon in war. The placing of the heads on the border sent a clear and concise message to the enemy, while at the same time instilling fear in them. Now let us take a little refreshment before the main events.'
Bane grunted as Telors probed the injured rib. Blood was still oozing from the four-inch-long gash on Bane's left side.
'The rib's broken,' said Telors. 'You were lucky, Bane.'
'Oh yes, I feel really lucky,' said Bane, wincing as Telors wiped away the blood.
'Damn careless,' snapped Rage. 'I spent many hours watching Dex, and I told you how fast he is on the counter-attack. Did you read the notes I left with you last night?'
'Yes, I read them,' lied Bane. 'And I didn't fail. Dex is dead, isn't he?'
'Yes, he's dead,' agreed Rage, 'but a better man would have cleaved your ribs or disembowelled you. A man like Brakus, perhaps.'
Suddenly Bane grinned. 'You are never satisfied, are you? After my last duel you were telling me how if I fought like that when I met Dex he would cut my head off. And before that there was the deadly Kespus. Now both are dead.'
'Perfection is what we strive for, boy,' said Rage.
'No-one achieves perfection,' said Telors. 'You know that, Vanni.'
Rage sighed. 'If it could be achieved, it wouldn't be worth striving for. The object is to get as close as you can.' He looked at Bane. 'You fought well for most of the bout. Good footwork, fine concentration. But right at the start he lured you in with a feint. Only your speed saved you, and even with that he snapped a rib. An extra ounce of pressure and that rib might have pierced a lung.'
Telors opened a small leather medicine bag, removing a crescent needle and some dark thread. For some moments he tried to thread the needle. Finally Bane took it from him, threaded it, then handed it back. 'My eyes aren't what they were,' grumbled Telors.
'That's because you're getting old,' Rage told him.
'I'm ten years younger than you,' Telors responded.
Rage smiled at him. 'That's true.' The big man sat down alongside Bane. 'Don't mind me, boy. You frightened me out there. For just a moment I thought he had you.'
'I thought so too,' admitted Bane. 'And you are right. I was careless. But the shock of seeing Bendegit Bran and Fiallach with the emperor rocked my concentration.' He swore as Telors tightened the first stitch.
'Be brave, little soldier,' said Telors, with a grin.
Rage patted Bane's shoulder. 'Well, you are Gladiator Four now, and you are almost at your best. You've done well, Bane.'
'Well enough?'
'To take Voltan? I don't think so. Ask me in three months. If you beat Brakus, we'll talk again.'
'I promised you two years. I kept that promise.'
'Just three more months,' said Rage. 'Give me that, and then make your decision.'
Telors finished the stitches and snapped the thread. Bane lowered his arm. 'What is troubling you, Rage? Be honest with me.'
'There's a time for honesty, boy, and this isn't it. Now wash the sweat and sand from yourself. We've been invited to meet the emperor and his guests.'
'I don't know that I want to,' said Bane.
'There isn't a choice, my friend.'
Bane rose and walked through to the rear of the Sword Room, and the bathhouse beyond. Telors put away his needle and glanced at Rage. 'What is it, Vanni?'
'The boy is good. Very good; fast, strong, courageous. But he isn't ready for Voltan.'
'Why don't you just tell him?'
'No point, my friend. He will fight him anyway at some time. I don't want to destroy his confidence.'
'You might be wrong, Vanni.'
'Let's hope so.'
'Am I invited to meet the emperor?'
Rage laughed. 'Why would he want to talk to an ugly bastard like you?'
Telors chuckled and began cleaning Bane's sword and helm, before packing them away, with his wrist guards and greaves. Minutes later Bane returned. His blond hair was combed back and tied in a ponytail, and he was wearing a pale blue tunic, grey leggings and riding boots of the softest leather. At his waist was a silver-edged belt, from which hung a hunting knife with a hilt of engraved horn.
'You'll have to leave the knife behind,' said Rage. 'No-one enters the emperor's presence armed.'
Bane lifted the knife from its sheath and handed it to Telors. Then the two men left the room, climbing the stairs to the second level, and emerging out into the stand. The last of the crowd were moving down the aisles as Bane and Rage made their way ever higher towards the Royal Enclosure. Several people recognized Bane, and called out to him. He responded with a wave and a smile.
A guard in silver armour met them at the Enclosure door, searched them for weapons, then ushered them inside. A second guard led them along a corridor, through a food hall, and into a large private room. Expensive rugs adorned the mosaic floor, and there were a dozen beautifully crafted couches set around the walls. The emperor was reclining on a couch below a high arched stained-glass window. Bendegit Bran and Fiallach were sitting on either side of him. On a couch opposite sat an enormous figure in crimson robes, his huge head framed by a mane of white hair. And behind him stood Voltan.
Bane tensed, his hand moving unconsciously to his empty knife sheath. Rage gripped his arm. 'Bow to the emperor!' he whispered. Bane's hands were trembling, but he fought for control, took two steps forward and offered a deep bow to Jasaray.
'I thought you might like to meet your countrymen while they visit Stone,' said Jasaray.
'That was… most thoughtful, Majesty,' said Bane.
'Good to see you, lad,' said Bran, rising and offering his hand. Bane shook it. Fiallach remained where he was, and folded his arms across his enormous chest. Jasaray rose from his couch.
'Let me introduce you to my friend Nalademus.' Taking Bane by the arm he walked him across the room. Bane bowed to the Stone elder.
'An entertaining duel, young man,' said Nalademus. 'You are certainly not dull to watch.'
'And this is Lord Voltan,' said Jasaray. 'He leads the Stone Knights.'
'We have met,' said Bane, his voice cold.
'Have we?' asked Voltan. 'I do not recall.'
'We only spoke briefly,' said Bane, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. 'You had your sword buried in a young girl's heart at the time.'
Voltan looked closely at him. 'Well, well,' he said. 'The tribesman from Accia. Did I not say you had potential?' He smiled broadly.
'And here you are as the new Gladiator Four. I always was a good judge of fighting men. Good to see you again.'
'You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to meeting you,' said Bane.
'Gratifying to be so highly thought of,' said Voltan.
Bane tensed, but, just as he was about to attack, Rage's hand clamped to his shoulder. 'There is a time and place for all things, boy. This is not the time, and it is certainly not the place.'
'I had no idea there was a history between you,' said Jasaray. 'How interesting. However, I fear we are neglecting our other guests. Come, Bane, and sit with your friends.'
Jasaray led him back to the two Rigante warriors, then turned away and strolled across to speak with Rage.
'What was that about?' asked Bendegit Bran, leaning in and speaking softly.
'He is my enemy,' Bane told him. 'It is a personal matter.'
