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.