The tiger roared again. This time the sound was closer. It must be a trick of the maze, thought Jasaray, the sound distorted by the tall, thick bushes. He walked on a little way, but the blow to his head had left him dizzy and weak, and he sat down on a small wooden bench, set in an arch cut into a hedge.
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?'
Bane glanced down at his pale tunic. Blood was seeping through the cloth. 'No. My stitches broke. It is nothing.'
He began to lope along the lane, Rage close behind him. He turned left, then right, picturing in his mind the maze as he had seen it from the balcony. Vorna's magic had been unable to help him with his reading and writing, but she had told him that nature always finds a balance. 'You have a wonderful memory, Bane, much keener than most men's. You will find it far more useful than the ability to decipher script.'
His side was hurting as he ran, the tunic sticking to the inflamed flesh. Suddenly a growl came from close by. Bane swerved away from the sound, which was emanating from the far side of the hedge. The tiger roared, and began lashing at the hedge with its great paws. Bane stood very still. The hedge was at least three feet thick, and though the branches were thin there were hundreds of them. It would take even a creature such as this a little time to tear a way through.
In the bright moonlight Bane could not yet see the beast. Then a massive paw slashed into view, splintering wood. As the branches parted Bane saw - for a moment only - the face of the tiger, and found himself staring into baleful, golden eyes. Raised on its hind legs the beast paused in its furious assault upon the hedge, and stared back at the man. Time froze as Bane's gaze locked to those terrible eyes, and he felt the power of the beast, the strength, the energy and the terrible hunger. Then the moment passed. The tiger let out a ferocious roar and crashed its huge frame at the hedge, which bent inwards.
'Time to leave,' said Rage.
Bane nodded. 'In a moment,' he replied. Then he called out: 'Jasaray! It is Bane. Make for the centre! We will meet you there.' The two men ran on. From behind them came the sound of wood splintering as the tiger crashed through.
Two more turns to the left, and one to the right, and the two warriors emerged into the centre of the maze. The naked Jasaray was there, standing very still, his hands clasped behind his back. He seemed very calm. Bane ran up to him. Jasaray took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
'We are here to help you, Majesty,' said Rage. 'Not kill you.'
Jasaray opened his eyes and gave a thin smile. 'That is gratifying to hear,' he said, his voice showing no fear.
The tiger emerged from the lane entrance, its huge head swaying as it walked. Bane looked into its yellow eyes, then he and Rage moved a little apart. The tiger watched them as it padded closer. The tail suddenly twitched. And it charged at Bane.
The Rigante stood his ground. As the tiger leapt he dropped to one knee, ramming the gladius into the beast's belly. The tiger struck him, smashing him to the ground. Bane could smell the tiger's fetid breath, and the fangs were inches from his face. Throwing up his left arm he struggled to hold the beast at bay. Rage ran in, hurling himself to the beast's back and circling his arm round the throat, hauling the head back. Then he stabbed the tiger in the side, plunging his blade deep.
The tiger reared up and swung on Rage. Bane, weaponless now, surged to his feet and cast around for a weapon of any kind. His own gladius was wedged deep in the body of the tiger. The creature's tail twitched again, and it leapt at Rage. The old gladiator stood his ground. Bane threw himself at the tiger, his shoulder hammering into the beast's side. Rage darted forward, lancing his sword into the creature's neck. It twisted and lashed out at Bane. The Rigante hurled himself to one side, but not swiftly enough. Talons raked his shoulder, spraying blood into the air. The tiger was unbelievably fast. Even as Bane fell it was upon him. Rolling to his back Bane smashed his fist into the tiger's head. It was like striking rock. Fangs lunged for his face. Once more he threw up his arm, and his elbow lodged against the beast's throat, holding back the attack. Rage stabbed it again. The tiger's body spasmed. It gave a coughing roar and blood pumped from its mouth. Yet still it bore down on Bane. The Rigante struggled to hold it back. With his right hand he reached down. His fingers curled round the hilt of the gladius jutting from the tiger's body. With all of his strength he rammed the blade deeper.
The tiger ceased to struggle. Bane found himself once more staring into those golden eyes. For a heartbeat it was as if their spirits touched. Then the head sagged. Rage dragged Bane clear. The young
Rigante knelt beside the tiger, laying his hand upon the creature's flanks. It was still breathing. Bane felt the weight of a great sorrow touch him.
'I am sorry, my friend,' he said, stroking the fur. 'You travelled a long way to die here.'
The tiger's head twitched, and for a moment it seemed it would rise. Then the light faded from its eyes.
Rage knelt beside the younger man, examining the cuts on his shoulder. 'They're not too deep,' he said, pulling Bane to his feet.
'There are assassins at the perimeter,' said Jasaray. 'I do not know how many.'
'Three less than there were,' said Rage. 'Let's get you back into the palace.'
'First let us take time to think,' said Jasaray. 'The entrance you came through was guarded, yes?'
'Yes, Majesty,' said Rage. 'We killed three, but one escaped.'
There are two other entrances. We must assume they are also guarded. We must also assume, since so many assassins gained access to my private grounds, that some of my guards have been traduced.' Jasaray sat down on the marble bench and gazed down at the dead tiger. 'It is time to smoke out the termites,' he said. 'But first we must clear my grounds of traitors.' He looked at Bane. 'Can you still fight?' he asked.
'I can fight.'
Then let us seek out the other killers.'
Jasaray led Bane and Rage towards the first of the exits. As they came to it they saw the tiger's cage had been wedged between the hedges. Rage moved close to the bars, and peered out. There was no sound or movement from beyond the cage. He and Bane pushed it clear. Three men ran from the shadows. Rage killed two in as many heartbeats. Bane blocked a knife thrust from the third, kicked his legs from under him, then, as he fell, slashed his gladius through the man's throat. Jasaray stepped from the maze. 'Nicely done,' he said.
The third entrance was blocked by two upturned tables. There were no assassins there. Slowly they circled the maze. The grounds were empty.
An hour later Bane and Jasaray climbed a narrow, hidden staircase, which ended at a locked door.
'Are you sure you want to do this?' whispered Bane.
'Life without risk is no life at all,' Jasaray replied. He flicked open a latch, and the two men stepped out into the corridor some thirty feet away from Jasaray's private apartments. Three guards stood outside the emperor's rooms. As Jasaray stepped into sight they momentarily stood and gaped, then they snapped to attention. Jasaray, now wearing a pale grey tunic and sandals, advanced towards the guards. Bane stayed close to him, his sword in his hand.
'It has been an interesting evening,' said Jasaray. 'Has anyone been enquiring after me?'
The first of the guards licked his lips nervously. 'We thought you were asleep, Majesty,' he said. His gaze flickered to the blood-smeared Bane.
'I have not been asleep,' said the emperor. 'I have been struggling to avoid the attentions of a hungry tiger and a group of armed assassins running free in my grounds.'
The door to the apartments opened and Voltan moved into sight. He was wearing his black and silver armour, and was carrying a gladius. 'You are a hard man to kill, Majesty,' he said. The guards stepped aside a
nd drew their swords. But they made no attempt to attack or restrain Voltan.
'You are a thorough man,' said the emperor softly. 'How many of my guards have you turned against me?'
‘These three only,' said Voltan. 'You chose well with the others. Singularly loyal and dreadfully dull.'
Bane stood silently by, ready for the attack. Jasaray seemed unconcerned. 'You might have waited until my death before invading my apartments,' he told Voltan. 'It is such bad manners.'
'My apologies, Majesty,' answered Voltan, with a smile. 'I wouldn't want to be considered rude. But I thought a dozen men and a tiger would be enough. Are you ready to die now?'
'I think no man is ever ready to die, Voltan. Tell me, how will you make it look like an accident now?'
Voltan laughed. 'I do so admire bravery,' he said. 'You always were calm in the face of danger. I shall kill you quickly, and then slash the skin to give the appearance of claw wounds. Clumsy, I know, but you have left me with little choice. You will be given a state funeral, and thousands will walk behind your coffin weeping. I don't doubt more statues will be raised to you, and men will speak for a generation about your greatness.' Suddenly he leapt forward, his sword snaking out. Bane blocked the blow, pulling the emperor behind him. Almost in the same move the Rigante sent a slashing riposte. Voltan leapt back from it, then chuckled. 'I have no time', he said, 'to give you another lesson. Kill him,' he told the guards. The men spread out and advanced.
At that moment there came the sounds of running men, booted feet pounding on the stairs. Scores of soldiers came into sight, weapons drawn, filling the corridor from both ends. Rage moved into view.
Jasaray, his hands clasped behind his back, looked at the treacherous guards. 'Put down your weapons,' he said, 'and your deaths will be clean and swift. Hold to them and I will see that your eyes are burned out, but not before you have seen all your relatives and friends, loved ones and children slaughtered.' His voice was not raised, but venom dripped from every syllable. The three guards, their faces grey, released their weapons, which clattered to the floor.