In the past months he had
relaxed considerably. At times, he was almost able to forget his
past life, although it did return to haunt him in dreams. Then his
cries would bring Mirra or his father to shake him awake. His skin
had acquired a healthy tan, and he had grown stronger with all the
labour of felling trees and building. Already they had constructed
one cabin, which they all shared, but it was a little cramped. The
new one was for him and Mirra.
Bane snapped awake at the sound
of soft footfalls, and he smiled inwardly when he recognised
Mirra's cautious tread. If she thought she could sneak up on him,
she had much to learn.
Mirra held her breath as she
gazed at Bane asleep on the bank, long legs stretched towards the
water, which almost lapped his boots. He wore a dark brown suede
jacket she had made for him, at a cost of many pricked fingers and
aching thumbs, for she was no seamstress. Still, he claimed to like
it and wore it often, so much so that a couple of the seams were
frayed. His white shirt was tucked into a pair of hardy brown
workmen's trousers, the knees patched with suede. Although he had
lost the unnatural enhancement of his power, she thought him even
handsomer without it. He found the fact that dirt now stuck to him
somewhat annoying, however, and bathed every day, unlike Grem and
Mithran, who stuck to weekly washes.
Mirra tiptoed towards him, a
smile dimpling her cheeks and excitement making her heart hammer.
It was probably a poor idea to give the Demon Lord a shock
awakening, but she simply could not resist the temptation. With
infinite care, she stole towards him, until she stood over him,
then knelt. His lashes lay against tanned cheeks, his face relaxed,
deeply asleep.
For a moment her courage almost
failed her, then she gave a soft cry and pounced on him, giggling.
Bane's hands snapped up and gripped her shoulders, and she found
herself supine, with him grinning down at her.
"You were awake!" she
accused.
"You woke me up, stomping
through the woods like a wild boar."
"I was not!"
"Were too." Bane chuckled and
released her, and she sat up, brushing leaves from her robe.
"You are a bully."
Bane snorted and reeled in his
line to inspect the empty hook, unable to impale a fresh worm while
Mirra sat beside him. He cast her a reproachful look. "I will not
catch any fish with you around, will I? I will wager you have
already told them to avoid this end of the lake."
She laughed. "No, they are just
too clever for you."
With a sigh, he put down the
fishing rod and gazed at the sun that sank over the lake,
burnishing it to gold. She touched his arm, and he looked at her.
The soft light gilded his face and made his eyes glow.
"I never thought I could be this
happy," she said.
Bane smiled. "I am glad. I want
you to be happy."
"Are you?"
"Yes."
Her eyes drifted away to the
roam over the placid lake, with its swaying bulrushes and buzzing
insects. The peaceful carolling of birds echoed through the forest,
and the trees whispered in the breeze.
"Mirra." His soft voice caressed
her name. She shivered, and her heart pounded as she turned to gaze
at him again. He took her hand and caressed it as he lowered his
eyes, looking uncertain.
"I can offer you so little, and
have given you even less. I regret all the hurt I caused, but I
regret most of all what I did to you, and I wish I could undo it."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he pressed a finger to her
lips and raised his eyes to meet hers. "Hush. I will say this,
whether you want me to or not... I am sorry."
She bit her lip, and he lowered
his eyes again as he said, "I know I am strange, but I will do my
utmost to make you happy." He placed her hand on his chest. "This
you own." He paused, looking pensive. "I have not asked you this
before, simply because I am unversed in the ways of humans. I owe
you the greatest debt possible, and I have been remiss in not
asking you for your wishes. Is there anything you would ask of me?"
He tilted his head. "Is there anything you want?" His eyes flicked
up to meet hers.
She shook her head. "Only
you."
"I am yours, never doubt it." He
hesitated. "Will you also... be mine?"
Her heart gave a bound of joy.
"Are you asking me to be your wife?"
"I am."
Her eyes overflowed. "Yes. I
will."
Bane raised her hand and pressed
his lips to her palm in a strange gesture he had developed over the
months, and one whose source she could not fathom, for it was not
something she had ever done, or seen anyone else do. He looked up
at her. "Your acceptance fills my heart with joy." He noticed her
tears and looked puzzled. "I trust those are tears of
happiness?"
"They are."
"How strange, that humans should
weep from joy and sadness too." He shook his head. "No matter." He
paused, looking thoughtful. "I will not place the same constraint
upon you as I did on my father. Anything you wish, I will grant, if
it is within my power."
Mirra could restrain herself no
longer. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him with all
her strength, unable to speak because of the lump that blocked her
throat. His inability to show affection at times made her a little
uncertain of him, but he always accepted hers without hesitation,
and, knowing the reason for his reticence, she did not find it
hurtful. Her upbringing, surrounded by the healers' love, made her
naturally affectionate, and she hoped that in time he would learn
to show his feelings better. Bane rested his cheek on her hair, and
she longed to stay like that forever, but after a while he raised
his head and released her. She straightened, unable to meet his
gaze, and brushed the wetness from her cheeks.
"That is not something someone
from the Underworld would say, is it? That is why it did not occur
to you before."
"The giving of gifts is not
popular there, no."
She giggled, rubbing her eyes.
"What made you think of it now?"
"My father showed me some
baubles he gave my mother for her birthday. Apparently they brought
her great joy."
"Tokens of affection always
bring happiness, no matter how small they are."
"Then you must tell me what
tokens of affection you would like me to give you."
"They are supposed to be a
surprise."
He sighed. "You do not wear
baubles or pretty dresses like other girls."
"Do you wish I did?"
"No."
Mirra's eyes sparkled, and she
turned to gaze across the lake. "There is something..."
"What?"
She pointed. "You see that
mountain over there?"
"Where would you like it to
be?"
"On the other side of the lake.
It will look better there, I think."
"As you wish." He raised his
hands, and she giggled, then the earth trembled, and she yelped and
grabbed his hands.
"No! Bane..." He laughed and
fell backwards as she pummelled him in playful anger. "That was not
funny!"
"I thought it was. You really
thought I would do it?"
"You made the ground shake."
He chuckled, and it shuddered
again, making her pummel him some more. "Stop it!"
"No. Ow!"
"You are frightening the
animals."
"All right, I will stop." He
rubbed his shoulder. "Mithran was right. You are a bully."
"You are a fine one to
talk."
Bane spread his arms. "Do your
worst then. I am at your mercy."
"I would never..."
He snorted and chuckled. "You
are sometimes an exceedingly silly girl."
Mirra shook her head and sighed,
smiling down at him. Bane sat up and stared across the lake, then
fished in his pocket and pulled out a gold medallion on fine chain.
"I made this for you." He fingered the necklace. "I want you to
wear it always. Never take it off, promise me."
"Of course, Bane."
"I am in earnest. Not even when
you bathe, not for a second."
Her smile faded. "Why? What is
wrong?"
"Nothing, and if you always wear
this, nothing will be." He held up the medallion, and she examined
it. A rune was deeply inscribed into the gold, the same as one of
the ones on his chest. Tiny lines of delicate writing encircled it,
too small for her to read, and the lettering was unfamiliar.
"What is it?"
"It is the rune Chargon, a
symbol of great power." He undid his shirt and pointed to the
seventh rune. "It is the same as this one. It will protect you. It
wards off evil. No Underworld power can touch you as long as you
wear this."
"But the wards..."
"My mother was taken while the
wards were in place. The Black Lord can still snatch people from
here. By now he has left the Land of the Dead, and will be longing
for vengeance. As long as you wear this, you will be safe."
Mirra nodded, and he clipped the
chain around her neck, melding the clasp so it could not be undone
again. As he did so, he whispered, "Trethack myrish."
She fingered the medallion.
"What about you?"
"Me?" He chuckled. "He would
never try to take me. That would be like... bringing a wolf into
his hen house. Or inviting an adder into his bed. Besides, I have
one carved on my chest, remember?" He leant back against a tree,
laughing.
"All right, I see your
point."
Bane continued to chuckle until
she turned and hugged him, then he held her close and murmured, "No
one will ever take you from me."
"No one would dare, Demon
Lord."
Bane groaned. "Do not call me
that."
"What about Mithran and
Grem?"
"I shall give each of them one,
and Ellese, too."
"And Tallis."
"If you wish."
She held the medallion up to
study it again. "How did you make this?"
He shrugged. "I took a stone,
and wished for it to be as it is, and it was so."
"You turned a stone into
gold?"
"Yes."
"So you can turn anything into
gold?"
"I can turn anything into
anything, except into living flesh."
She frowned at him. "So... you
could turn a man to stone."
"Yes... You find that
abhorrent."
"It is not a pleasant
thought."
"I wish I could change what I
am, but that, it seems, is not within my power."
"I do not want you to change at
all."
"Not even that?"
"No. I do not want to change a
single thing about you." She gazed at the tiny writing on the
medallion. "What do these words say?"
"I cannot tell you."
"You promised to answer my
questions."
"If I could, I would. There are
no words for them in this language. If you wish, I will speak those
words. That is the best I can do."
She nodded. "Speak them."
Bane murmured, "Dar merane neal
ere taron ere sherell. Merash paren rinelle, rosleth aren trendoral
ere crassad pronar tyr emrast relen. Ere shyalle en delyn lo perryn
sone ellin tabbor, prenet andron sen drethack nith cantour."
The string of guttural words
were in the strange tongue she had heard him speak before, when he
had commanded the earth and summoned demons.
"What language is that?"
"I do not know. The words come
to me when I require them, and vanish afterwards."
"But you must know what they
mean, else... how do you know what you are saying?"
He sighed. "I do not, exactly. I
only know what they do."
"All right, what do these
do?"
"They ward against evil."
"Then that must be what they
mean."
He chuckled. "No."
She turned to face him, her
curiosity aroused. "You must be able to translate them."
"No."
"Have you tried?"
"No."
"Please try."
His eyes roamed over her face.
"Why?"
"If I am to wear this for the
rest of my life, I want to know what it says."
He gazed into space for several
minutes, a slight frown puckering his brow, then shook his head. "I
cannot. It is not within my power."
She sighed. "So the medallion
will protect me."
"That is its purpose. Actually,
it protects itself. It only protects you because you are wearing
it."
She ran her fingers over the
scars on his chest. "What do these mean?"
He looked down at them, and
touched the seventh. "This is Chargon, for protection. It wards
against evil and enhances power." He pointed to the sixth, next to
it. "This is Arvanon, for control and courage. It also stands for
loyalty, sincerity and fortitude. Merven increases speed, agility
and vitality. It wards against fatigue and lassitude. Jespar
increases strength, physical and spiritual. It wards against
weakness of the mind. Vacillir is a token of knowledge. It enhances
all the others, and Mirdaral is a rune of illusion, or deceit, if
you will. And then there is Prevash, which betokens domination. It
is the first, for they are counted across, from left to right. When
I cut four, I used Arvanon, Merven, Jespar and Vacillir. When I cut
five, I added Mirdaral, and Prevash became active on its own when I
broke the seventh ward."
"Why did you not use Chargon
until you fought Arkonen?"
"I did not require it, and
Arkonen warned me not to use it. He claimed it would destroy me.
Perhaps, before I was healed, it would have."
"Probably." She let the
medallion fall. "So, have you heard any good prayers lately?"
He smiled. "I do not think I am
supposed to tell mere mortals about them."
"Just the good ones."
"Well, there is a young lord in
the far west who longs to conquer the father of his beloved, so he
can wed her, but lacks an army strong enough. He begged me to help
him."
"How romantic."
"Not really. His love is
unrequited."