‘I would like to have seen the Rigante mountains,’ said Appius. ‘They are said to be magnificent.’ His expression changed, and sadness touched him. ‘I rather fear that my successors will do just that when the Stone army finally marches north.’
‘You did not learn your lessons at Cogden Field?’
‘Stone does not learn lessons,’ said Appius, with a sigh. ‘We are a people afflicted with colossal arrogance. Jasaray had other matters on his mind after Cogden, and Connavar was clever enough to return the Panther Standards to him. Jasaray sold this act to the people as a gesture of contrition and managed to place the blame for the entire venture on the head of the dead Valanus. But Jasaray has not forgotten the Rigante, Bane. Of that you can be sure. At the moment he is fighting a war in the east, but when it is concluded he will march against Connavar.’
‘The result will be the same,’ said Bane coldly.
‘I can see why you would think that. But I am an old soldier and I disagree with you. Valanus advanced too far, too fast, with only five Panthers – fifteen thousand men. By the time of the battle the supply lines had been sundered, the troops had eaten nothing for five days. Even so, they killed sixteen thousand tribesmen. Jasaray will not come with twelve thousand. More like forty. And he will lead them.’
‘He’s an old man,’ sneered Bane.
Appius smiled, and shook his head. ‘Ah, the wonderful arrogance of youth! Yes, he is an old man, boy, but he is an old man who has never lost. A general does not need the lightning reflexes of the young to see an opening in an enemy’s line or to read the ebb and flow of a battle. What he needs is skill, experience and iron nerve. Jasaray has all these qualities. His supply lines will not be sundered. He will move slowly, with infinite care. You enjoy your Rigante mountains – while they are still Rigante mountains.’
Chapter Four
A ferocious storm broke over Accia during the night, the thunder deafening, rain and fierce winds lashing the town. Tiles were ripped from rooftops, and to the north a barn collapsed killing two horses. The morning sky was dull and overcast, lightning flashing ominously in the east. Bane was nervous about the sea crossing later that day, but kept his fears to himself. Banouin said very little. He was withdrawn, and his eyes retained a haunted look. Several times Bane tried to engage him in conversation, but Banouin’s answers were monosyllabic and he spent much of the day in his room, sitting on the balcony watching the road to the sea.
‘I don’t know what is the matter with him,’ Bane told Lia, as they sat under an awning in the garden, watching the rain in the late afternoon. ‘I have never seen him like this. It’s as if he’s not really here at all.’
‘I tried to speak to him,’ said Lia, ‘but he will not look me in the eye. I wonder if I have said something to offend him.’
‘Perhaps it is the result of his fever and the pain of his broken arm,’ offered Bane. ‘He’s always been terrified by the thought of physical pain. And with his mother a healer there was never any lingering sickness.’
‘You like him – but he saddens you,’ said Lia.
‘Aye, well, I’m an embarrassment to him. He wants to leave Rigante ways behind him. We’re barbarians, you see. No place for someone like me in Stone.’
‘Oh, Bane, you are not the barbarians. We are. I heard what you said to father the other night about nakedness. You were right. While we preach sexual morality we rape the world, enslave its men and women and slaughter its children. We are worse than barbaric, Bane. We are so far beyond evil that it has no meaning any more.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Banouin wants to be a part of that? Let him. For me I would rather journey into the mountains and live among those my people call savages.’
Bane lifted Lia’s hand to his lips and kissed it.