'You always were good at making enemies, Bane,' said Fiallach.
Bane looked into the man's hostile gaze and smiled suddenly, feeling the tension drain from him. 'There was a time I would have gladly killed you. There would not have been a moment's regret. I am older now, and a little wiser.' He took a deep, calming breath, and returned his attention to Bran. 'Why are you here?'
'The emperor invited Connavar to send ambassadors for talks. The king agreed. We have been here ten days, but there have been no talks so far. But what of you, Bane? How are you enjoying life here?'
Bane shrugged. 'I am wealthy, but I miss the mountains. When I have accomplished what I have set out to do I will come home.'
'You'll not be welcome,' said Fiallach.
'I never was,' said Bane.
Bane was silent for most of the way home, and sat back against the leather seat of the open carriage, staring out over the city streets. Beside him Rage was also quiet, lost in thoughts of his own.
As the carriage moved out onto the main avenue, leading to the hillside and the eighteen-room villa, a small commotion broke out in the crowd some way ahead. Lanterns had been lit, and in their glare Bane saw armed Knights dragging several men and one woman from a doorway. Someone in the crowd shouted 'Burn the traitors!' but mostly people stayed silent, watching the prisoners hauled away.
'They won't succeed,' said Rage, as the carriage moved on.
'Who won't?' asked Bane.
'The Knights. Nalademus. Religion is a strange creature. It thrives on persecution. After three years of burnings, hangings and torture there are probably now more followers of the Tree Cult than there were at the start.'
'That seems to make no sense,' said Bane.
'I agree. But it's true. Religions that die away are those absorbed by society's rulers, not those damned by them.'
'Why would that be?' asked Bane. 'Surely the message is the same, but it comes without risks?'
'Perhaps that is part of the answer. We value little that comes without risk. But, more importantly, once society absorbs and accepts a religion the rulers set out to subtly change the message. It will happen here eventually.'
'And people will accept this?'
'Of course. The Tree Cult do not believe in the taking of life. Killing is wrong, they say. In a few years some government-elected officer of the Cult will say that it is not killing that is wrong, but murder. He will cite the case of a man defending his family against attack, or his daughter from rape. He will say, 'Surely the Source would not expect that man to sit idly by.' Most family men would find agreement with that argument. Then they will begin to talk of Stone as 'a great family' and the nations around us as 'hostile, barbarous and evil'. There will then be justification for attacking them, on the grounds of 'saving the family of Stone'.' Rage laughed, though there was little humour in the sound. 'It is like watered wine, Bane. In the right amounts it is tasty and good for the digestion and the heart. But if you keep adding water all you end up with is the memory of the wine.'
'You are a cynical man – when sober,' said Bane.
'I wish that I wasn't. I like much of what I have heard about the Tree Cult, about their caring for one another, and their refusal to be drawn into the circle of hate. Did you know that on the night before their executions they hold prayer meetings at which they forgive their accusers?'
Bane smiled broadly. 'It makes no sense to me. A man hates you, and seeks to kill you, then you must either run or kill him. There is no third way.'
'You can befriend him,' said Rage. 'Then he will no longer be your enemy.'
'Now you are joking, surely?' said Bane. 'You think I could befriend Voltan after what he has done?'
'Not from a position of hatred,' Rage told him. 'First you'd have to forgive him.'
'Would you forgive him?'
Rage turned towards him. 'I already have, boy. He is Cara's father, and because of him a child I loved killed herself.' He patted Bane's shoulder. 'The circumstances are different, I know. He did not set out to kill Palia, but the result was the same. I lost someone I loved. So did you.'
'I'll forgive him', said Bane, his voice shaking with anger, 'the moment he lies dead at my feet.'
Rage fell silent and the carriage moved slowly up the hill. A servant opened the wrought-iron gates before the villa, and the driver picked up the pace along the gravel path, hauling on the reins outside the main entrance. Rage paid him, and the two men strolled inside.
Cara came walking out to meet them. 'Why are you not at school?' asked Rage, taking her into a hug, and kissing her cheek.
'It is Mid Term, Grandfather. Are you not pleased to see me?'
'Always,' Rage told her. She swung to Bane.
'And what about you, tribesman?' she asked him.
Bane smiled and looked at her. She was wearing an ankle-length blue silk gown, gathered at the waist by a wide belt of grey leather, stitched with golden wire. Her yellow hair was tied back, save for two ringlets at her temples.
'You are looking beautiful, princess,' he said, offering her a bow.
'No-one calls me princess now. That's a child's nickname,' she scolded him. 'You think me a child?'
'Far from it,' said Bane, keeping his gaze from her full breasts and the curve of her hips. 'Welcome home, Cara.'
'Walk with me in the garden,' she said, advancing on him and hooking her arm into his.
'It used to be my arm,' grumbled Rage. Cara grinned at him.
'I adore you, Grandfather, but there is something I want to talk to Bane about.'
Lanterns had been hung on iron poles along the garden path, and the two young people walked slowly towards the circular fountain at the rear of the house. 'Well, what is your news?' asked Bane.
Cara glanced back. 'Let me show you something,' she said, moving off to stand beside a yellow rose bush, which was covered in blooms. 'But first you must promise not to tell anyone.'
'I promise,' he said.
Cara knelt before the rose, scanning the flowers. This one,' she said at last, pointing to a fading bloom, its stalk bent, its petals falling. 'Come and look.'
Bane knelt beside her. Cara cupped her hands around the bloom and closed her eyes. Bane watched for a moment. The rose stalk stiffened, the bloom lifting. Slowly the dying petals swelled, as if with new life. When Cara removed her hands the rose stood proud, and its scent was magnificent.
'A clever trick,' said Bane. 'How is it done?'
Cara looked round to make sure they were alone. 'I went to see the Veiled Lady. She touched my brow, and told me I had latent talent, and that she had released it in me. I could be a healer,' she said.
Bane felt a tightness in his stomach. 'You shouldn't have done that,' he said. 'Don't you know how dangerous it is?'
'Of course I know,' she snapped. 'I went with three friends, and I was very nervous. But I heard her speak, Bane. I watched her heal people with a touch. It was extraordinary. Then she walked among us. She has a black veil, and you cannot see her face clearly, but I saw her hands, and they are young hands. I don't think she's much older than me!'
'You must not go again, Cara.'
She stood up and dusted her gown. 'I didn't expect you to be so cowardly,' she told him.
He rose. 'I am thinking of Rage, and what it would do to him if you were taken, dragged to the arena and burnt at the stake.'
'I'll be careful,' she promised. 'But I can't forget what I have seen, and heard and felt. Standing here I can feel the life in the garden, every plant and tree, every flower and shrub. I am part of it. You are part of it.'
In the lantern light he looked into her face, and suddenly saw Voltan there, the same cornflower-blue eyes, the set of the features. He stepped back suddenly.
'What is wrong?' she asked.
'Nothing. We should be getting back.'
