Galand lifted the bugle to his lips and sent out the doleful call to surrender. Three times the bugle sounded before the last of the Legion warriors laid down their weapons.
‘It is over, general,’ said Galand. ‘Be so good as to step down.’
‘I’ll be damned if I will!’ snapped Karespa.
‘Dead if you don’t,’ promised Galand.
Karespa dismounted.
In the trough below, six hundred Legion warriors sat on the grass as Skoda men moved among them, relieving them of weapons and breastplates.
Decado sheathed his sword and moved to where Acuas knelt beside the fallen Abaddon. There was no mark upon the Abbot.
‘What happened?’ asked Decado.
‘His was the strongest mind among us. His talents were greater by far than any other’s. He volunteered to screen Karespa from the Templars.’
‘He knew he would die today,’ said Decado.
‘He will not die today,’ snarled Acuas, ‘Did I not say there were risks involved?’
‘So a man had died. Many have died today.’
‘I am not talking about death, Decado. Yes, his body is slain, but the Templars have taken his soul.’
*
Scaler sat on the high wall of the tower garden, watching the distant mountains for signs of the victorious Legion. He had been relieved when Tenaka had asked him to stay behind, but now he was unsure. Certainly he was no warrior and would have been of little help in a battle. Even so, at least he would have known the result.
Dark clouds bunched above the garden, blocking the sunlight; Scaler pulled his blue cloak around his shoulders and left the wall to wander among the sheltered blooms. Some sixty years before, an ageing senator had built the garden, his servants carrying more than three tons of topsoil to the tower. Now there were trees, bushes and flowers of every kind. In one corner laurel and elderflower grew alongside holly and elm, while elsewhere flowering cherry trees bloomed pink and white against the grey stone walls. Throughout the garden an ornate path wound its way among the flower-beds. Scaler wandered the path, enjoying the fragrance of the blooms.
Renya mounted the circular stairwell, entering the garden just as the sun cleared the clouds. She saw Scaler standing alone, his dark hair held in place by a black leather circlet on his brow. He was a handsome man, she thought . . . and lonely. He wore no sword and was studying a yellow flower at the edge of a rockery.
‘Good morning,’ she said and he glanced up. Renya was attired in a light-green woollen tunic and a rust-coloured silk scarf covered her hair. Her legs were bare and she wore no sandals.
‘Good morning, lady. Did you sleep well?’
‘No. And you?’
‘I fear not. When do you think we will know?’
Renya shrugged. ‘Soon enough.’
He nodded his agreement and together they strolled through the garden, drawn at last to the wall facing south towards the Demon’s Smile.
‘Why did you not go with them?’ she asked.
‘Tenaka asked me to stay.’
‘Why?’
‘He has a task for me and does not want me dead before I attempt it!’
‘A dangerous task, then?’
‘What makes you say so?’
‘You said “Attempt it”. That sounds as if you doubt your ability to succeed.’
He laughed grimly. ‘Doubt? I don’t doubt – I know. But it doesn’t matter. No one lives for ever. Anyway, it may never come to that. First they must defeat the Legion.’
‘They will,’ said Renya, sitting on a stone bench and drawing up her long legs on to the seat.
‘How can you be sure?’
‘They are not the men to be beaten. Tenaka will find a way to win. And if he has asked you to help him, then he must be sure you have a chance.’
‘How simply women view the world of men,’ commented Scaler.
‘Not at all. It takes men to make the simplest things sound complex.’
‘A deadly riposte, lady. I am undone!’
‘Are you defeated so easily, Scaler?’
He sat down beside her. ‘I am easily defeated, Renya, because I don’t care too much about winning. Just living! I run to survive. When I was young, assassins were all around me. My family all died at their hands. It was Ceska’s doing – I see that now, but then he seemed a friend to my grandfather and myself. For years my rooms were guarded while I slept, my food tasted, my toys checked for hidden needles bearing poison. It was not what you would call a happy childhood.’