Tallis brought a plate of food
from the feast table and settled on the grass beside Mirra, casting
her a worried look. The young healer stared at the ground, plucking
blades of grass, her expression forlorn.
"Come on, Mir, have some food,
you are way too thin."
"I have always been thin."
"Yes, but..." Tallis sighed.
"Look, I think he is pretty amazing too. I mean, a real god, and he
was here, in our temple. I helped when he was injured, while you
were away. I wanted to hate him at first, but being so close to him
was quite an experience. I do not think he even likes me. He told
me I snore. But I cannot imagine someone like him loving me; it
would be too overwhelming. I mean, if you love him, do you worship
him? What does it mean, to love a god? We all love the Lady, but we
worship her."
Mirra raised her head. "But I do
not think of him as a god, Tal. To me, he is just Bane. I loved him
from the moment I met him, although I did not realise it at
first."
Tallis spooned mashed potato
into her mouth. "Well, if he is a god, surely he can hear
prayers?"
"What if he can?"
"Well, if you are so worried
about him, why not pray to him and see if he can hear it?"
Mirra stared at her friend. "We
are only allowed to pray to the Lady."
"Who says? We only pray to her
because there is no one else to pray to, apart from the Black Lord,
and he is evil. Mind you, the Demon Lord kind of fits into that
category too."
Mirra ignored the jibe. "I would
not know how."
"The same as you would pray to
the Lady, of course. Do not look at it as a prayer if it bothers
you, just call him."
Mirra watched the cavorting
dancers, lost in thought. "He may be busy."
"He does not have to drop
everything and rush here, does he? He will come when he can, if he
will." Tallis frowned. "A moment ago you were almost in tears,
wanting him here. Now you do not want to bother him?"
Mirra smiled. "It is just that
the thought of praying to him seems really strange."
"Well, you had better get used
to the idea that he is a god, if you plan to spend a lot of time
with him. I mean, if one day he strays with some barmaid, you can
jerk him back with a prayer like, 'get back here you naughty
bugger!'"
Mirra gasped and giggled. "Tal!
That is terrible. He would never do that."
"You had better hope not,
because the way he looks, girls will queue up to worship him."
"Goddess! I hope not."
"Mir, the man is a dream come
true. Or he would be, if he did not have that horrible power."
"I hope he will give it up."
Tallis nodded, spooning her
food. "So do I. Without it at least you could touch him without
feeling sick."
"You can, when he lets you."
Tallis scraped her plate clean
and put it aside. "Come on then. Call him. Let us see what
happens."
Mirra hesitated, then folded her
hands and whispered, "Bane, come back to me, please."
Tallis burst into giggles, and
Mirra smacked her playfully.
"Do you know how silly that
sounded?" Tallis gasped.
"I know how silly it felt." She
paused. "But it will not seem silly if he comes."
The Demon Lord gazed into the
lake's inky depths, the questions and doubts that plagued him
multiplying. The intense silence offered no answers, and no matter
how hard he searched within himself, he only found more doubts and
questions.
A strange tickle in the back of
his mind made him stiffen in surprise, ending his gloomy
introspection. A yearning, sorrowful whisper called his name. The
words were elusive, and he had to call them back from his memory
and listen to them again. This time, he heard them clearly, and had
no doubt as to who had spoken them. His heart warmed, and several
doubts vanished. He rose and turned away from the lake, his cloak
flaring, and Moved.
Mirra and Tallis sat some
distance from the fire, away from its fierce heat and the trampling
feet of the dancers who cavorted around it. Ellese had joined them,
bringing a plate of food and sitting on the soft grass beside
them.
Mirra's head jerked up as a
sensation of illness rushed into the garden, and the bonfire
roared. The wave of cold power was tangible.
The Demon Lord appeared beside
the fire, his cloak swirling about him. The lurid light reddened
his skin and threw shadows across his face, enhancing his demonic
aspect. Most of him blended into the night, making him appear
shrouded with evil power.
The dancers shrieked and dived
into the darkness where their friends sat, then turned to gaze at
the dark god who had appeared in their midst. A hush fell on the
jubilant gathering as the quartet of amateur musicians that had
been providing the music fell silent with a discordant thud of
drums and yelp of fiddle. The fire roared, and Bane waved a hand at
it, making the flames die down. Mirra sat frozen, staring at him in
delight and breathless excitement. Tallis turned to her with wide
eyes.
"It worked!"
Mirra nodded, her throat tight.
"He came."
Bane walked
towards her as the revellers relaxed and murmured amongst
themselves.
He stopped before
her with a wry smile, and she rose to face him.
"You called?"
She nodded. "You heard me."
"So it seems. A novel
experience."
"I hope you do not mind."
His smiled widened. "No."
"Where were you?"
He shrugged. "Thinking."
"Trying to decide what to do
next?"
"Yes."
"And did you succeed?"
"I think so."
A qualm of trepidation twisted
her heart, and she tried to find answers in his bland expression,
but failed. "Will you tell me what you have decided?"
Bane glanced at Tallis and
Ellese, who listened unashamedly, clearly curious about his plans
for the future too. "Not here."
Ellese started to tug Tallis
away, then stopped and groaned, gazing past Bane with a pained
expression. He turned to find the reason for her dismay, and
frowned.
Baron Martal strutted out of the
gloom, his over-large chin jutting. He seemed to have found some
courage, perhaps because he had faced the Demon Lord twice already
and escaped unscathed. Mirra bit her lip, more nervous about Bane's
reaction than Martal appeared to be. If the Baron goaded him into
some angry act, it could ruin his future amongst his people and
condemn him to being an outcast, or worse. Martal stopped several
feet away, thinking, foolishly, that he was safer at a distance, as
many had done before him. He glared at Bane.
"You are not welcome here, Demon
Lord. Your sort has been banished, and you should join them."
Ellese stepped forward. "Martal,
you have no right to -" She broke off as Bane raised a hand.
His eyes narrowed, and he
addressed the portly Baron in a haughty tone. "Indeed. And who, may
I ask, banished them?"
Martal raised his chin still
more. "I do not deny that you had a hand in it, but you could not
defeat the Black Lord. It was the Lady who banished him, not
you."
Mirra started forward, a cry of
denial on her lips, but Bane gripped her arm and glanced down at
her. "I will deal with this."
"No! It is not fair! You saved
us all. He has no right to be rude to you."
"Hush, it is all right."
Mirra shook her head. Bane did
not deserve this, and she had called him here, not realising what
would happen when he came.
The Demon Lord regarded Martal
with cold eyes, his lip curling. "You are mistaken, Martal. The
Lady helped, yes, but had she been able to do it alone, why did she
let the Black Lord rise and ravage the land in the first
place?"
Martal swelled with righteous
indignation. "You did most of the ravaging! You are the one who
broke the wards. You are responsible for countless deaths."
Bane glanced around at the pale
faces of the people who had crept closer to listen to the
altercation. "Yes, I am responsible for a lot of deaths, although I
slew very few with my own hands, a tiny fraction of the countless
number you claim. The men who followed me killed the rest. Ordinary
men, like you, with more of a killing streak than I have. But I
will wager that those men have returned home to their families and
villages now, and they have been taken back, even forgiven for the
crimes they committed."
Martal spluttered, "They were
led astray! The blame does not fall on them. They followed you,
listened to your words that corrupted their minds. You are
responsible for what they did. Without you to lead them, none of
this would have happened."
Mirra smiled at Bane's
cleverness as he raised an enquiring brow. The Baron clearly did
not realise what he had just said, for he continued to glare at
Bane, whose expression became contemptuous.
"I led them, yes, but I did not
win their loyalty with pretty words or empty promises. They flocked
to my banner for the sake of glory, for the love of looting and
conquest that all men harbour in their hearts, while others joined
to save their lives. So it was cowardice or greed that drove them,
which makes them worse than I, for the chain of responsibility does
not end with me."
He glared at Martal. "I was
corrupted by the Black Lord, torn from my mother's womb and raised
in the Underworld. He made me hate the Overworld and all who dwelt
in it. I was misled far more than the men who followed me. I did it
out of loyalty, and I was influenced by the power he made me
wield."
Bane paused. Apart from the
fire's crackle, the silence was complete. Martal's eyes flicked to
the audience, trying to gauge their reaction, which was hard to do,
since they all looked at him blankly.
Bane continued, "I was led
astray, yet I do not shirk the blame, nor do I ask forgiveness.
When the Black Lord betrayed me, I realised that I had been
tricked, and I set out to rectify my mistake. That I have done,
with the help of the healers and the Goddess, and the victory you
are celebrating here tonight is mine as much as theirs.
"The Lady claims responsibility
for creating the Black Lord, and even her father Kayos had a hand
in that mistake. So who is to blame? The men who did the killing?
The one who led them? The one who corrupted the one who led them?
The one who created the Black Lord, who corrupted me, who led the
men? Or perhaps the fault lies with Kayos, who created all of us
with flaws.
"Be careful when you allot
blame, Martal. It sometimes leads to a long chain of people, and
not all of them are bad. I have restored the wards, and the Black
Lord will never rise again. I cannot bring back the people who
perished, but I have ensured that no more will be slain by him, or
his proxy. More than that, I cannot do."
The Demon Lord's gaze swept the
silent people, daring anyone to argue with him. They muttered, and
Martal looked deflated and furious, unable to refute the truth of
Bane's words, yet clearly wishing he could. A tall, grey-eyed
warrior stepped from the crowd and strode towards Bane with a
determined air, and Mirra held her breath.
Martal grabbed the man as he
walked past. "Do not touch him! He can kill you with a touch."
The soldier shook him off. "He
can, but let's see if he will, since you haven't got the guts to
trust him." He walked up to Bane and thrust out his hand.
Bane eyed it, looking puzzled,
and Mirra thought the man would take offence, but he was evidently
a clever fellow, and deduced Bane's confusion. "I would shake your
hand, Demon Lord, and offer you my friendship."
Bane's eyes thawed a fraction,
and he held out his hand, allowing the man to clasp his wrist in
the manner warriors favoured. "I am not well-versed in human
customs, but I understand that amongst them, friendship is the
opposite of enmity."
"I'd rather be your friend than
your enemy, and I see the sense in what you've said. Perhaps you've
lost more than any of us who weep for dead comrades or family. The
Black Lord stole your youth, your family, and your humanity. I hope
being a god makes up for all of that, and I'm honoured to clasp
your hand."
"Without being burnt to a
crisp," Martal muttered.
Bane smiled, ignoring the Baron.
"I hope to reclaim some of that."
"I'm called Grem, Demon Lord,
and if I may serve you, call on me."
Martal snorted. "Perhaps when he
needs a sacrifice."
Ellese had evidently had enough
of the sour Baron, for she took Martal's arm and led him towards
the feast table.
Grem gazed after the Baron,
shaking his head. "That's a bitter man. With almost his entire army
gone, he has a big job ahead of him, finding new men and training
them. Most of these who are left are mercenaries, like me. A man
like him doesn't like to be outdone, even by a god." He bowed. "If
you'll excuse me, I think I'll have some more food."
Bane watched him walk away, then
held out his hand to Mirra. "Come."
She smiled and took it, and he
led her towards the courtyard's gate. Tallis gazed after them with
a forlorn expression.
"Where are we going?" Mirra
asked.
"For a walk."
"It is dark."
"It will be dawn soon."
Bane led her
across the rolling meadows to a distant hilltop, where he stopped.
Mirra sat on the damp grass, her legs aching. Bane settled beside
her, stretch
ed out and leant
back on his hands. She longed to hold him, to be enfolded in his
arms and lie against his chest, but did not dare to touch him. He
was a god, after all, and she could not take liberties with him,
even if she loved him. Certainly not without his consent or even
encouragement, and, since she had no experience with matters of the
heart, she had no idea how to initiate an intimate
moment.