Healers were not forbidden to
love a man, and many married their sweethearts. Mirra had seen boys
and girls flirting, even glimpsed lovers kissing in an orchard
once, but this was not the same. When she had hugged him before,
she had sensed his shyness and awkwardness, and it did not seem
fitting to do that to him. She smiled as she recalled the brief
moment of closeness she had shared with him after he had removed
the curse from her arm. The sky brightened to pink, and the silence
enfolded them.
His soft voice broke it, sending
a shiver down her spine. "Ask any question you wish. I will answer
it."
Mirra hesitated as dozens of
questions presented themselves. She chose the most obvious one.
"What are you going to do now?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On you."
Her breath caught and her heart
leapt, starting to pound. She tried to see beyond his slight,
amused smile, but failed. The clouds on the horizon glowed with
golden glory, reflecting the light of the rising sun.
"Why does it depend on me?"
Bane sat up and took her hands.
"Because I will do as you wish. What would you like me to do?"
Love
me,
her heart cried, but she
swallowed the words. "Will you give up the dark power?"
"Yes."
She smiled. "Take me with you,
wherever you go."
"Why?"
"Because I want to stay with
you."
He inclined his head. "Then you
shall."
Mirra could hardly breathe, and
studied his face for some hint of his feelings, but his expression
revealed nothing. She bit her lip. The question she longed to ask
stuck in her throat, and her mouth was dry.
Bane leant closer, his eyes
intent. "Ask me. I will tell you anything you want to know."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
She met his gaze, her heart
quailing. "Do you love me?"
He smiled. "Yes."
Mirra sat stunned, unable to
believe it, even though Ellese had been so certain of it. She had
not had the courage to let herself dare to hope it. Arkonen's
poisonous words had made her doubt it, and telling Tallis had been
more wishful thinking than certainty. With one word he had made all
her dreams come true, and, in that instant, she was happier than
she had ever thought possible. He lifted her hand and placed it
against his cheek, as if sensing her longing to touch him.
"I love you." His smile widened.
"I hope that is the right way to say it."
"Yes. It is." She flung her arms
around his neck and embraced him. "And I love you."
Bane held her, his cloak
enfolding her in his warmth, and she relaxed against him, her heart
overflowing. He lay back on the grass, holding her on his chest,
and she raised her head to gaze down at him.
"You have much to teach me," he
murmured. "How to be human, how to make you happy. This is what I
want. Do not ever be afraid to speak your mind. I sense your
hesitation, and it grieves me. Is it because of what I did to
you?"
"No." She lowered her eyes. "It
is because of what you are."
"Ah." He sighed. "Until Ellese
told me, I was unaware of it. I do not want to be treated
differently."
"But you may react
differently."
"If I do, it is only because of
my upbringing, and I want you to tell me when it is wrong. Will you
do that?"
She nodded. His soft voice made
her shiver, and she stroked his sleek hair where it lay across his
shoulder. "You do not like to be touched, do you?"
He turned his head and gazed
into the distance. "In the past, to be touched was to be hurt, and
I learnt to retaliate." He looked up at her again. "But you have
already taught me about gentleness, and it is a wondrous thing. I
said many cruel things to you, but now I rescind them all. Do not
be afraid to touch me. Ask as many questions as you want, and take
as many liberties with my person as you wish."
She giggled and traced the
bridge of his nose with her finger. "Like this?"
"Yes." His eyes roamed over her
face, and he lifted a hand to cup her cheek. "You have seen me do
terrible things. You know I can kill with a touch, yet you have
never been afraid of me. You have a great deal of courage."
"There were times when I was
afraid, but I always had faith."
"In what?"
"That you were not the monster
everyone believed you to be. And, in the end, my faith was
rewarded."
He caressed her cheek, frowning.
"I was a monster. It was your faith that changed me. In some ways,
I am a monster still, and I need you to teach me how to be
good."
Mirra shook her head. "You have
only to listen to your heart."
His eyes slid away to gaze at
the rising sun. "All this, I did for you. This..." He gestured to
the sun. "…And this..." He touched the grass. "All of it. Only for
you. So you would be happy. I care nought for it. But if being what
I am allowed me to do that, then I am glad that I am... what I
am."
Tears
stung her eyes, and she shook her
head again.
He studied her, frowning
slightly. "Why do you weep?"
"Because I am happy, and…. you
should not be so humble. It is too much. I do not deserve to be the
only reason -"
"Hush." He placed a finger on
her lips. "I have no reason to be proud. I only restored what I
destroyed. And you do deserve it. You saved me. I gave you back
your world only so I might share it with you. For no other reason.
You did cast a spell on me, and I am glad of it, for that is what
saved me."
Mirra swallowed a lump and
brushed at her eyes, forcing a wan smile. "Then I am glad, too."
She hesitated, studying him. "What did you and the Lady speak about
when I was injured?"
He looked away. "Hmmmmm. You
certainly know which questions I like to answer the least."
"You do not have to answer."
"I have said I will, and so I
shall. I do not renege on my word." He paused, his expression
shuttered. "You were not injured, you died. I was... confused.
Angry. I could not accept it. I threatened to destroy the world if
the Goddess did not give you back to me."
Mirra's eyes widened. "And she
did?"
He glanced at her and smiled.
"Obviously, silly girl. But not before she made me see what I had
been denying for so long."
"What was that?"
He snorted. "Now you are being a
dolt."
"That you cared for me."
"Yes. That was the reason I
wanted you back."
"And so she brought me back to
life?"
He looked away again. "In a
manner of speaking."
"That does not answer my
question."
Bane smiled. "She took the life
force she needed to do it from me."
"What do you mean?"
"Several years of my life were
given to you. But it is all right," he added at her horrified
expression, "I have aeons to spare, and I would have given far more
than she took."
"But
still...
That was... a great
sacrifice. Did it hurt?"
He chuckled, looking a little
embarrassed. "Yes."
"I am so sorry."
"It was worth it, and I will do
it again if I must." He paused, eyeing her. "Will you do something
for me?"
"Anything."
"Stop being sorry. You have
nothing to be sorry for. It was Dorel who killed you, and the Lady
who caused me pain to bring you back, at my behest. None of it was
your fault."
She sighed and shook her head.
"You are without doubt the strangest person I have ever met. To
sacrifice years of your life, for me."
"That, I did for myself. The
rest, I did for you."
She laid her head on his chest
and hugged him, and he enfolded her in his cloak as the sun rose in
a golden glory, bathing them in its light.
Chapter
Eighteen
Demon Lord
The next day, Bane
informed Ellese of his decision to give up the dark power, which
made her smile with relief and filled her eyes with a sparkle of
joy. He opted to be purged the following day, since the healers
were busy tending the gardens and had to prepare. He seemed a
little depressed, and Mirra knew that giving up his power was not
an easy thing for him. Ellese promised to find a blue mage to teach
him how to use the blue fire, which only made him frown. He
remained distant and preoccupied, and, when she could not cheer him
up with idle banter, Mirra suggested they go to the nearby village
and do a little shopping.
Bane glanced down at his black
garb. "I suppose I should get some new clothes."
Mirra nodded, eyeing his outfit,
which she thought rather attractive, for the clothes suited him.
"Your attire is rather distinctive."
"Do you think people will still
recognise me without them?"
She hesitated. "Perhaps."
"That will be a pity."
After lunch,
Mirra sought out the grey-eyed soldier, Grem, and asked him to take
them into town in the cart. He agreed without hesitation, and she
asked him to drop them off just outside the village, so they could
walk into it, thereby giving the townsfolk time to retreat if they
found Bane's presence alarming. The last thing she wanted was to
cause panic, which might result if the Demon Lord appeared in their
midst without warning. The
Town of Rill River was several miles away, at the end of a
rutted road that wound through the forest and down into a sleepy
dale with a stream, known, somewhat ambiguously, as the Honey
Spate, running through it.
Grem dropped them off where the
farmers' fields gave way to thatched cottages, promising to return
in a couple of hours to take them back. As they walked into town,
Mirra glanced at Bane, wondering if they would have any trouble.
The villagers might not like a dark god walking amongst them, but
she doubted that they would try to do anything about it. He
radiated arrogance, and his features belonged to the aristocracy,
as did the confident tilt of his head and look in his eyes.
Bane gazed around with keen
interest, and she realised that he still found it novel to be in a
New Kingdom village when the people were not screaming and running
for their lives. Unlike the people in the villages they had passed
through on their journey to the Lady's Temple, everyone in this
village knew the Demon Lord resided at the temple, and no one would
doubt his identity.
The villagers reacted to his
presence in a number of ways. Some dived into shops and alleyways,
others backed off or sidled away. Braver ones stopped and stared at
him; women swept up their children and ran. Unattended youngsters
gaped, and a few set up a brave procession, following him at a
distance. A man spat on the street in front of them, then hastened
away when Bane looked at him.
No one shouted insults,
threatened him, or threw anything, to Mirra's relief. She took him
to the tailor's shop, a rather fancy building that the wealthier
patronised. The bell rigged to the door jingled as they entered the
shop, and a small, whippet-thin man popped up from under the
counter, goggled at Bane and ducked down again.
Bane wandered around, inspecting
the coarsely made shirts and rough trousers on the shelves. The
tailor peeped over the counter, and, seeing that the Demon Lord was
not there for his blood, approached, wringing his hands.
"M-
My Lord, th-those
are for peasants."
Bane swung around, and the
little man almost fainted. "Indeed, they seem of poor quality." He
watched curiously as the tailor tottered, then his glazing eyes
cleared.
"Y-yes,
My Lord, I have b-better
clothes."
"Show me."
The tailor
looked anguished. "I don't think I have any that w-would fit
you,
My Lord."
"Then you can make some?"
"Yes,
My Lord."
"Good. When will they be
ready?"
"Tomorrow?
W-would that be all right,
My
Lord?"
Bane nodded. "I want good strong
clothes, quality material, and not black."
"I-I have to
m-measure you,
My
Lord."
Mirra feared the poor man would
have a heart attack if he came close to Bane, but he resolutely
pulled out a tape measure and approached. His hands shook as he
measured Bane's leg, and he did not touch the Demon Lord, his hand
hovered a couple of inches away. When he had to measure Bane's
neck, he was sweating so much he had to keep wiping it out of his
eyes. Bane glanced at him as he tottered atop a stool.
"I do not bite, so kindly stop
dithering."
The tailor made a valiant
attempt, and got the tape around Bane's neck, then almost fell off
the stool, shaking with relief. As he was scribbling his notes,
they left.
Outside, they encountered a
hastily dispersing crowd. Bane called after them, "He is still
alive!"
Mirra tugged his arm. "Bane!
Stop that."
"They are being stupid."
"They cannot help it. They are
scared of you."
Bane sighed, and they walked on
through the village. The street emptied before them, but for a
group of young boys playing stones. They were only about five or
six, and oblivious to the agitated calls from the adults who hid
nearby. Bane walked over and stopped to gaze down at them, a
curious look in his eyes.
"I should have done that when I
was a boy."
"What games did you play?"
His mouth twisted. "Hide from
the droges. It was not a game, and it certainly was not fun."
A boy looked up, yelled and ran,
knocking down the smallest. In the ensuing scramble to escape, the
poor child was buffeted and bruised. He lay on the street, wailing,
and Mirra scooped him up, then turned at a shriek of dismay close
by. A woman ran up, her face twisted with trepidation, her fear for
her child's safety driving her to approach. She ran out of courage
about three feet from Bane, her eyes riveted to him as if she was
afraid to look away lest he strike her down.