He should have brought the soldiers in and taken a chance on surprising Nalademus, he thought. Foolish man! Timing is always the key to success. You waited too long, Jasaray, he told himself grimly. But I am not dead yet. If I can get to my guards, and send a message to the Panther commander…
He heard the tiger growl again. This time the beast was definitely close. Jasaray froze as the sound of padding paws and heavy breath came to him from the other side of the hedge.
Realization came instantly. The blood on the toga! It was not his. It had been smeared there to attract the tiger.
Swiftly, his pain forgotten, Jasaray wrenched the robe from him and threw it to one side. Then he ran down the lane, cutting left and right.
Never before in his life had the Scholar known panic, and even now, in the midst of terrible fear, he had to acknowledge the sheer genius of this plan. The emperor killed by a wild beast while walking in his maze. Nalademus, as First Minister, would naturally take power, and swiftly appoint his own men to command the Panthers. Little risk of civil war, and no-one to blame, save perhaps some poor animal handler who failed to lock the cage properly.
Oh, it was sweet.
From somewhere behind he heard the tiger roar again. This was followed by the sound of rending cloth. Jasaray ran on, heading for the eastern exit. He forced himself to slow as he neared the archway, and, dropping to his belly, inched himself forward to peer round the hedge. The archway was blocked by a wooden frame, and he could just see the shadows of waiting men beyond it. Rising to his feet Jasaray moved back into the lane. All four exits would be blocked. Jasaray smiled suddenly and shook his head. So this is how it ends, he thought. The man who created the Panthers is butchered by a tiger. 'It is almost droll,' he whispered.
Bane's eyes flared open, and he surged upright. The bedroom, in the west wing of the palace, was moonlit and silent. Bane glanced across at the bed in which Rage slept, close to the balcony. The big man was sleeping soundly on his stomach, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress, the other curled around a pillow.
It had been a long evening, sitting at the farewell dinner with Jasaray, Bendegit Bran, Fiallach and Rage. The talk was mostly of politics and treaties, and even when it veered away from such mind-numbing topics Bane remained uncomfortable, wishing he was somewhere else. Anywhere else, in fact. For they spoke of Connavar, of his life and legend and greatness. Bane had swallowed his anger. At one point the elderly emperor had turned to him.
'Have you met the king?' he asked.
'Briefly,' answered Bane. 'I won a race. He presented the prize.'
Jasaray looked closely at him, then turned his attention back to Bendegit Bran. 'My agents tell me that King Shard is once more building a great fleet,' he said. 'Is Connavar aware of this?'
'We are all aware of the threat,' said Bran. 'Shard hates Connavar, and has promised to cut off his head.'
'What is the source of this hatred?' asked Jasaray.
Bran glanced at Fiallach. 'You were there, my friend. Perhaps you should tell the story.'
The giant yellow-haired warrior nodded, and Bane saw a look of sorrow touch Fiallach's grim features. 'A raiding party of Vars – led by Shard – sacked my settlement. It was a ransom raid, and they were seeking to capture a young woman named Tae. She was the daughter of a powerful laird, and Shard believed he could extract a great amount of gold for her. He was probably right. Most of the warriors of the settlement had been lured away before the raid. We were in the woods some fifteen miles away hunting a lion. But Connavar was close by, and he trailed the raiders, and freed Tae.'
'He did this alone?' said Jasaray.
'Aye, alone,' agreed Fiallach. 'It is a source of great shame to me that I was not there.'
'How did he accomplish this feat?'
'The raiders had split up, to confuse any chasing force. Connavar killed the men with Tae, then led her deeper into the woods. One of the men he killed was Shard's brother. Shard made a Blood Pledge that day to avenge the death.'
'Great men always make enemies,' said Jasaray. 'I was saddened to hear of the death of Tae, which, as I recall, was also the result of a blood feud. Why has Connavar never remarried?'
The tribesmen had looked uncomfortable at the question, and it was Bran who finally answered it. 'He is wedded to the cause of the Keltoi, Majesty, and has no time for personal pursuits. Much like yourself.'
'Indeed so,' said Jasaray, and the talk had returned to treaties and closer ties between races and cultures.
By the time the emperor ended the evening Bane had almost lost the will to live. He and Rage had returned to their quarters. The older man had taken to his bed immediately. Bane had drunk a little wine and had sat on the balcony, gazing at the stars. Then he too had slept.
The nightmare had been violent and terrifying.
Bane's heart was still hammering, but the nightmare was receding now, falling through his memory. He recalled that Banouin had been in his dream. His friend was trying to tell him something. Bane couldn't remember what it was. Something about a vision! A vision of demons, hunting him? Then he remembered the night, back in the house of Barus in Accia, when Banouin's screams had wakened him. He had run to his friend. 'The walls are alive!' Banouin had shouted, his face gleaming with sweat. 'And there is a demon hunting you, Bane. Ah! I see him. Talon and claw. He is coming for you.'
What else had he said? In the quiet of the room Bane pictured again that scene. 'You were walking through… through corridors, but the walls were alive and writhing. You were carrying a short sword, and there was a man with you, an older man. And a demon was stalking you. A terrible beast of incredible speed and strength.'
Rising from the bed Bane walked to the balcony. It was cool now, a fresh breeze blowing in from the sea. He glanced down, at the emperor's private gardens, and the moonlit maze. He saw a movement. It was the emperor. He was naked, and moving swiftly along one of the lanes. Bane smiled. It was an oddly comical sight. Still, he thought, if a man ruled an empire as mighty as that of Stone, he could behave as he liked. Bane yawned, and cast his gaze around the gardens. Then he saw another movement. He blinked. It had been so swift that he could not quite believe what his eyes registered.
A striped beast had padded across the clearing in the centre, then disappeared from view. Bane focused his gaze on the spot. Lanterns had been lit throughout the maze, and he wondered if what he had seen was actually a trick of light and shadow. Then he saw the beast again. It was massive – and it was hunting.
Bane ran back into the room and roused Rage from sleep. 'The emperor is in danger,' he said.
'What?'
'There is a beast hunting him in the maze.'
Bane moved out onto the balcony, glancing down at the fifteen-foot drop to the grass below. Then he climbed over the top, hung from his arms, and fell to the grass, rolling as he struck. He came to his feet just as Rage dropped alongside him. The older man landed with a grunt. Neither man had any weapon. Only the royal guards were allowed to walk armed within the palace.
They ran around the western perimeter of the maze – straight into four armed men. Two of the assassins carried short swords, the others knives. The first swordsman ran at Bane, lunging his sword towards the other man's chest. Bane side-stepped, grabbed the man's wrist, and head-butted him full in the face. Holding to the wrist Bane twisted it savagely. The man cried out, the sword spinning from his grasp. Rage caught it, leapt forward and killed the second swordsman, slicing the gladius through the man's throat. A knifeman ran at Bane, who ducked, then threw himself at the man. They fell together. Bane sent a right hook into the knifeman's jaw. The last of the assassins turned to run. Rage hurled the gladius, which plunged into the man's back. Bane hit his own assailant twice more, then rose. The man he had disarmed was running back into the palace.
A wooden barrier had been placed across the maze entrance. Rage pulled it clear.
'Be careful,' said Bane. 'The beast was a lion of some kind. And big!'
Rage dragged the gladius from the back of the dead assassin and tossed it to Bane. Then he scooped up the second sword and the two men entered the maze.
'How in heaven's name will we know where we're going?' asked Rage. 'All the lanes look the same.'
'Just follow me,' said Bane.
'You are bleeding, boy,' said Rage. 'Did he cut you?'
