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.’
‘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?’