‘We laboured long to find a balance. We struggled to teach man the error of his ways. Quite simply we failed. And one by one the spirit creatures left this world in search of other, more pleasant homes. The more foolish of us stayed behind, still trying to teach errant, arrogant man. And, as the spirit withered, so too did we. You asked me once why I chose to look this way. I did not choose it, Banouin. You chose it. You and your race.’
‘I am sorry,’ he said, the words sounding lame and entirely inadequate.
‘Don’t tell me how sorry you are, Banouin. Show me!’
The world spun. Banouin opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the balcony. There was no ivy clinging to the door frame, no fire dying in the circle of stones.
But upon his hands there was the smell of sweet earth.
For three days Nalademus continued to improve, but on the fourth he suffered a pounding headache. Banouin heard him hurling crockery across the room, and shouting obscenities at a servant. He hurried along the corridor.
‘I’ll pluck out your eyes, you clumsy oaf!’ screamed Nalademus, as the servant cowered by the door, his head in his hands.
Banouin felt the rage from Nalademus like a blow, which almost made him step back. Instead he fastened to the emotion, gentling it, and radiating it back to its bearer, softened and changed. The Stone elder stood towering over the servant and his fists unclenched. He shook his massive head. ‘Get out,’ he told the frightened man. ‘Go on, away with you.’ The servant scrambled clear and sped along the corridor. Nalademus turned to Banouin. ‘My head is splitting.’
‘Sit down, lord. I shall soothe it for you.’ The big man sank into a deep chair and Banouin moved behind him. Nalademus tensed instantly. ‘I will do you no harm, lord,’ said Banouin softly, placing his fingers on the elder’s temples. Closing his eyes Banouin drew out the pain, easing the rigid muscles of the neck and shoulders.
‘That is good,’ whispered Nalademus. ‘The pain is almost gone.’
‘I fear it is my fault, lord. Some of the herbs I use do have secondary effects. Headaches are not uncommon, and they can be extremely severe. I shall lessen the amounts.’
Banouin moved away from the elder, but Nalademus bade him sit in a chair opposite. ‘You have great skills, young man. How may I show my gratitude to you?’
‘You already have, lord, by freeing Sencra. By your leave, I will remain here for two more days until your recovery is complete, then return to my studies and my work at the university.’
‘You will reside here, Banouin,’ said Nalademus. ‘You will receive a handsome salary, and a carriage will take you to the university on any days you choose.’
‘Thank you, lord,’ said Banouin, his heart sinking.
‘Now tell me about Bendegit Bran.’
Banouin’s jaw dropped. ‘Why, lord?’ he stammered.
‘He arrived in the city ten days ago, as a guest of our emperor. He and a brutish general named Fiallach travelled under escort from Goriasa. They are staying in a villa overlooking the bay. I will probably have to meet them myself, and would be grateful if you could tell me something of them.’
Banouin gathered his thoughts. ‘Bran is the half-brother of our king, Connavar, lord. He is also a general of the Horse Archers, and governs the northern lands of the Pannone. He is a good man, and was always very kind to me and my mother.’
‘Is he a married man?’
‘Yes. He had two children when I left Caer Druagh.’
‘What of his ambitions? Does he seek to rule himself?’
‘I don’t believe so, lord. He is devoted to Connavar. Might I ask why the emperor invited them here?’
‘That is for the emperor to know, Banouin. Not mere servants like you and me.’ Banouin sensed the anger underlying the words. ‘And what of Fiallach?’
‘He is a mighty warrior – probably the strongest man in all Rigante lands. He must be over fifty now, but he is awesome to behold, six feet six inches tall, with enormous shoulders. He is ferocious in battle, utterly fearless and without mercy. He is one of three generals who lead divisions of the Iron Wolves, Connavar’s heavy cavalry.’