She fell silent again. Then she began to move among the crowd, laying her hands upon their heads, whispering blessings. Voltan moved back to stand behind a tall stalagmite, but slowly she was moving towards him. He had a long dagger hidden in the folds of his toga, and glanced quickly back along the tunnel. If she exposed him he would kill her and run. He did not want it to happen. Nalademus would be furious if she was not taken alive.
Most of the crowd were on their knees, so Voltan crouched down, head bowed. He heard her approach, and felt her hand upon his head.
‘I forgive you,’ she whispered, then moved away, returning to stand before the crowd.
‘I must leave you soon,’ she told them. There were cries of ‘No!’ but she stilled them with a gentle gesture. ‘I will be taken,’ she said, ‘and led out to face the jeering mobs and the stake of fire. I know this. I have seen the vision. But do not fear for me. It will happen because I allow it to happen. And if the Source decrees that it is my time to leave this earthly existence, then I welcome it.’ An eerie silence settled upon the group. Some began to weep.
‘There is a man here . . .’ she began. Voltan tensed, and eased his hand inside his toga, curling it round the hilt of his dagger. ‘. . . a man who does not understand the mysteries of life, or the meaning of joy. For this man I have a message. Go from here to the marketplace of Stanos, and stand by the stall with the yellow canopy. You will not have to wait long, and you will learn a great truth. And now, my friends, I must say farewell. May the Source bless you and keep you.’ She turned and walked slowly from the chamber.
Voltan stood very still. The crowd began to file past him and he joined them. There were several exits and soon he found himself wandering down through the narrow streets below the hill, and walking towards the Stanos district. He moved warily. It was surely a trap, and she would have agents ready to spring upon him as he reached the stall with the yellow canopy. He did not fear them. He was Voltan, and even with a dagger he could kill any who attacked him.
There were few people in the marketplace, and many of the stallholders were packing up their wares. Ahead he could see the yellow covering above a stall selling jewellery items, mainly of green jade. Scanning the people close by Voltan approached the stall. None of the men he could see were armed, and most were strolling with wives or lovers. He stood at the stall, looking down at the items on display.
A young woman, her hair blonde, her eyes pale blue, approached and began examining a tray of pendant earrings. There was something about her that touched a chord in the former gladiator, and he wondered if he had met her before.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. She looked up at him, and his mind slipped back through the years, to a moment in a courtyard, when he said farewell to a tearful girl.
‘Yes?’
‘Have we met?’ he managed to say.
‘I do not believe so, sir.’
‘My name is Voltan, and I . . . sense that I should know you.’
‘I am Cara,’ she said, with a smile, ‘and, believe me, sir, I would remember.’
‘Where are you from, Cara?’
‘I live with my grandfather.’
‘Perhaps I know him,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I saw you when you were a child.’
‘Perhaps you did,’ she agreed. ‘My grandfather is a famous man. He was Gladiator One, and he now trains the fighters of Circus Occian.’
Voltan felt as if he had been struck above the heart. ‘Your grandfather is Rage?’
‘Yes. Do you know him?’
‘We have . . . met.’
‘Then you should come and see us. We live in a large villa now. But we have few guests.’
‘Perhaps I will,’ he said, unable to take his gaze from her blue eyes. She gave him another smile.