‘Shard is a powerful enemy,’ agreed Bran. ‘My first taste of battle was against the Vars twenty years ago. Shard invaded the north of our lands, and linked with a Pannone army against us.’
‘And Connavar defeated him,’ said Jasaray. ‘I believe your father was killed in that campaign.’
‘He died, yes,’ said Bran. ‘His heart gave out after the battle.’
‘War brings many tragedies,’ said Jasaray. ‘I despise it.’
‘Then why are you so good at it?’ asked Fiallach.
‘A fair question – and one to which there is no answer. I was a scholar and a teacher. I was brought into the army to organize supplies and help with logistic matters. It then transpired that I had previously undiscovered skills in the area of tactics. In life, I have discovered, men gravitate towards what they are good at. I am a good soldier. That does not mean, however, that I enjoy the slaughter and the bloodshed. I do not. It is extremely wasteful. I have no desire to lead an army into the lands of the Rigante. The borders of the Stone empire are large enough. Further expansion would be dangerous. That is the message I want you to convey to Connavar.’
‘Let us assume for a moment that we agree on this,’ said Bran.
‘What are you offering – in material terms – for this agreement, and what do you require?’
‘Full access for our merchants, unhindered passage for our merchant ships, freedom to continue our settlements in the lands of the Cenii, constructing roads and towns and so forth. In return I will offer twenty thousand in gold to help with the costs of reducing the army, returning them to the land, or other skills and trades.’
‘And we are to trust you?’ snapped Fiallach.
‘Trust your eyes,’ replied Jasaray, with no hint of anger. ‘I am a man approaching seventy. Do you truly believe I want to embark on another campaign, sleeping in tents, marching in rain and snow? If I was hungry for such activities, would I not, even now, be in the east, leading my armies against our enemies? People change as they grow older. Look at you, Fiallach. Do you still yearn for battlefields and cold beds?’
‘I can still fight as well as ever.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
Fiallach sighed. ‘No, I don’t. I want to watch my grandchildren grow.’
‘Exactly. It is time for us all to do that. Connavar is preparing for an invasion that will not happen. Cogden Field was his great victory – and I take nothing away from that. Indeed I felt some pride in that I had a part in training him for warfare. But Cogden is now almost two decades in the past. I will have my clerics draw up provisional agreements for you to take to Connavar. I will then await your reply.’ Jasaray rose. ‘Come, let me show you my pets.’
Fiallach’s heart sank as they entered the maze once more, but this time Jasaray moved swiftly through it, emerging from an entrance to the west. Here there were many large cages, containing animals from all over the empire, a giant black bear, two lions, three sleek panthers, and, set apart from the others, another lion, but this one bearing the most curious markings. Its tawny body was covered in dark stripes. Fiallach could not understand why anyone should wish to paint a lion in such a way, and said this to Jasaray.
‘It is not paint, or dye,’ said the emperor. ‘It is a tiger, and these are its natural markings. Bigger and faster than a lion, it has prodigious strength. One blow from the paw can crush an ox skull. One bite would sever a man’s leg.’
‘Why do you have them here?’ asked Bran.
‘Once the war in the east is won I shall donate them to one of the circuses, and the crowds will watch them being hunted and slain.’
‘How far has this creature travelled?’ asked Bran.
‘Over two thousand miles. It was quite a feat, keeping it alive.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Bran. ‘The cost of getting it here alone must have been enormous.’
‘Indeed it was.’