Telors joined him. ‘Not too much now,’ he said. ‘Save something for tomorrow.’
‘You think I am being foolish?’
‘It is not for me to say. Men do what they must. Personally I’d have asked the emperor for a mountain of gold and my own personal whorehouse.’ Telors shrugged.
‘You’ve seen him fight,’ said Bane. ‘Rage does not believe I can take him.’
‘Vanni regrets saying that. He wouldn’t have wanted to say anything to make you doubt your abilities. He was hoping he could talk you out of the contest.’
‘What do you think? Give me the truth.’
‘I can’t give you the truth, Bane, only opinion. I once saw a big soldier, fully armed, with breastplate, shield and sword, brought down by a boy carrying a makeshift wooden spear. When a man fights anything can happen.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘And I’m not going to stand here and tell you how good Voltan is – not the day before you fight him. I can tell you how good you are. You are a match for almost anyone. You have the speed, the strength, and most importantly the heart. I’ll be with you tomorrow. I’ll put a fine edge on your sword, and your breastplate will gleam with oil.’
‘Breastplate? It is a death bout.’
Telors looked uncomfortable. ‘The emperor has suspended the usual rules. Voltan will fight without armour of any kind.’
‘Then so shall I. It is to be a duel, not an execution.’
‘I thought you’d say that,’ admitted Telors. ‘It does you credit. Rage would have said the same.’ A servant called out that the water was heated, and Bane moved back inside.
The bath was sixteen feet long and nine feet wide. Steam was rising from the surface of the water, carrying the scent of lavender. Bane stripped off his clothing and slipped into the water, ducking his head and swimming to the far end, where he sat on a ledge, resting his head on the rounded brass rail surrounding the bath. Tension eased from his muscles.
He lay in the water for some time, then towelled himself dry and wandered to the massage room, where an Occian slave rubbed oil into his skin, and worked on the muscles of his legs and upper back. Bane dozed for a while. When he awoke he found he was alone. The slave had placed warm towels over his body, and had left him sleeping. Rising he went to his locker, put on a fresh tunic and leggings and walked barefoot back into the bathhouse. Leaving his training clothes with a slave for washing he tugged on his boots and walked out into the sunlight.
It was a beautiful day and he strolled along the avenues back towards the villa. Most of the celebrations were over now, but there was still an air of elation over the city. At the villa the gardeners were at work, weeding the flower beds, and Bane saw Cara, dressed in a pale green dress, walking among the roses. A dark-haired and handsome young man was walking with her. Cara saw Bane and waved. He strolled over to them. ‘This is Maro,’ said Cara. ‘He is the son of the general Barus.’ Bane shook hands with the man. ‘He has come to see Grandfather,’ continued Cara, ‘but he is still out on his run.’
‘He must have taken the western route,’ said Bane. ‘I have not seen him today.’
‘Maro and I are to be married,’ said Cara.
‘If your grandfather agrees,’ put in Maro.
Bane smiled. ‘I am sure he will – if that is what you desire, princess. However, I am hurt. I always thought you would save yourself for me.’
‘You are too old,’ she said, with a mocking grin. ‘And not handsome enough.’
Bane put his hand over his heart. ‘Women are so cruel. Be warned, Maro!’
He bowed and walked away. Cara ran after him, taking his arm. ‘You and Grandfather should end this quarrel,’ she told him.
‘We have not quarrelled,’ he said.
‘You do not look me in the eyes any more,’ she said suddenly. ‘Why is that?’
‘Nonsense,’ he said, forcing himself to meet her gaze. Her eyes were bright blue and pale. Voltan’s eyes. He looked away. ‘Your guest is being neglected,’ he added.