‘You could have been good,’ said the man. Bane’s vision was blurring. The man’s sword lanced towards him. Bane tried to throw up his arm to block it, but the sharp metal rammed home in his chest.
A distant bell began to toll as Bane fell from the balcony. It seemed to him then that he was falling for ever. His body struck the rain-drenched grass, but he felt no pain. With a groan he rolled to his belly, seeking his sword. It had plunged into the earth some feet away. He reached for it, but then the pain hit him, searing from the wound in his back. His face touched the damp earth. With a tremendous effort of will he dragged his torn body across the grass. His hand curled around the hilt of the sword. Then he passed out.
It was almost dusk when Oranus led the ten-man Honour Guard to the house of Appius. He had made sure that the soldiers shined their armour, and their belt buckles and greaves. Light oil glistened on their leather tunics and kilts, and their red cloaks were new, fresh from the stores. Each of their helms boasted a crimson horsehair plume, neatly brushed. These, and the cloaks, would be returned as soon as this visit was over, but Oranus was determined that his men would find approval in the eyes of the general.
The front gates were locked. Set into the wall beside them was a bronze bell, with a hanging rope. Oranus rang it. There was no response. Irritated now, he led his men round the garden wall to the rear gate. This was open. As the Captain of the Watch stepped through he saw the first body. Drawing his short sword he ran along the path.
By the house he saw the blond Rigante warrior, Bane, lying face down on the grass. Blood was drenching his dark clothes, and pooling beneath him. Oranus knelt beside the man and turned him. Bane’s eyes flickered open. His face was grey, and Oranus saw another terrible wound in his upper chest. Bane tried to speak, but blood bubbled from his mouth and he passed out.
A tall figure moved from the house. Oranus glanced up, and felt the onset of fear. The man wore the black and silver armour of the Stone Knights. Oranus knew him at once. He had seen Voltan fight in the Great Arena, in the days before he had been recruited to the service of Nalademus. The man was a deadly killer.
‘Does he still live?’ asked Voltan.
‘Barely,’ answered Oranus.
Then step aside and I shall finish him.’
Anger washed over the fear and Oranus rose, and turned towards his waiting men. He pointed at one of them: ‘Fetch the surgeon Ralis. And do it quickly,’ he said.
‘I gave you an order,’ said Voltan softly.
‘I am the Captain of the Watch, Voltan. You do not order me.
‘Show me your Papers of Warrant,’ replied Oranus. Voltan gave a wry smile, then reached inside a hidden pocket in his black cloak. From it he produced a section of folded parchment. This he handed to Oranus. The captain read it slowly, his heart sinking. Carrying the authorized seal of the Crimson Temple it named Appius and Lia as enemies of the state to be despatched wherever found. Oranus pretended to study the document as he gathered his thoughts. He could feel the tension in the men around him. No-one wanted to find themselves at odds with a Stone Knight.
‘I take it that sentence has already been passed on General Appius and his daughter?’ he said, passing the parchment back to Voltan.
‘It has. Now stand aside while I finish this wretch.’
‘I do not see his name upon your warrant, Lord Voltan, nor the name of that poor wretch of a servant upon the path.’
‘The savage killed two of my Knights and tried to prevent the execution of our duty.’
‘Ah, then you will wish him to be charged with that offence, and you will no doubt take the time to remain here in Accia while a court is convened. There will, of course, be a second hearing before the Cenii king since one of his subjects has been accused of a crime. This, as I’m sure you know, is part of our treaty with the Cenii. It will take no more than a month, perhaps two, Lord Voltan. You are welcome to share my home during that time.’