A Young God
Ellese stood on the balcony and gazed out at the devastated land, sorrow mingling with the joy the brightening sky brought. The rain had continued for several hours after Bane had sent the dark power below and commanded the clouds to leave, but finally it had stopped. Dirty grey water pooled in hollows and ran down the hills in muddy torrents, washing gullies into the soil.
Trees stood stark and bare, as if winter had come early, and grey sludge covered the land as far as the eye could see. The healers gathered on the balconies to witness the miracle of the sun’s return, and glad cries made Ellese turn. In the distance, the clouds parted and a shaft of golden light shot down, bathing an area of grey earth. Tears of joy stung her eyes as she watched it wander over the land, beyond their reach, but a wonderful sight nevertheless.
Excited shrieks from the young healers behind her made her turn again. They looked up, pointing, and she followed their urgent fingers. Directly above the abbey, the thinning clouds tore apart, revealing a patch of bright blue sky. Blessed sunlight poured through it, and she spread her arms to receive it as the others did, basking in the warm touch of its golden power.
It flooded her with a wealth of well-being, banished the aches and pains she had accumulated in its absence and made her smile and her heart swell. It only lasted about half an hour, but that was sufficient time for her to soak up enough to make her flesh tingle. As soon as the clouds swallowed the blue patch again, she made her way to Mirra’s room. Several healers had beaten her there, including Tallis and a number of elder mothers.
Tallis had persuaded Mirra to sit up, and unwrapped her misshapen arm while Mirra turned her head away, biting her lip. Ellese studied the monstrous thing, suppressing a shudder. The malformed hand was large, its fingers long and knobbly, tipped with sharp claws. A ridge of spines ran down the top of it, and the shiny black scales covered all but the palm, which consisted of rough skin. Tallis threw down the cloth and placed her hands upon the scales, eager to heal her friend. After several moments of fruitless concentration, and the young healer frowned and moved her hands to Mirra’s shoulder. This time the power flowed; Ellese could sense it from across the room, and Mirra closed her eyes with a sigh.
The bruises around her throat vanished, as did the scabbed abrasions. Her arm remained unchanged. Tallis shot a worried look at the elder mothers, and two of them stepped forward and rested their hands on Mirra’s shoulder, letting their power flow into her. Several minutes passed before a faint blue glow appeared in the scabby flesh at the juncture between scales and skin. One of the elder mothers nodded, and they continued to pour their healing into Mirra. The blue light brightened, but her arm remained the same.
Ellese strode across the room and elbowed one of the elder mothers aside, laying her hand on Mirra’s shoulder where hers had been. She concentrated, sending her power into the girl, encountering the web of dark power in her arm, just as she had sensed it in Bane’s flesh. In him, the thin, flowing shield just under his skin was active and tractable, living in him, but not a part of him. It only became impenetrable when attacked, allowing her to push through it while he was unconscious.
In Mirra’s arm, it was impervious, a solid barrier bound to her flesh that shut out healing power. The one who had channelled it into her had commanded it, and it was now a part of her, impregnable. Ellese snatched her hand away, spun on her heel and marched out. Mirra’s wails followed her into the hall, and she almost ran down the corridor to escape them. She stopped when she had outrun them and leant against a wall, her brow pressed to the cold stone. Her anguish banished the joy the sunlight had brought. A patter of bare feet made her straighten and brush at her eyes.
Tallis stopped a pace away and demanded, “Why is it not working, Mother?”
Ellese shook her head. “There is so much dark power in her arm I do not understand what holds it back from the rest of her. I thought it was a surface change, and we could force it to slough off, but it is not. It goes right to the bone, and we cannot penetrate it.”
“Mirra is the greatest healer amongst us. Perhaps if she gathered enough power...”
“No. It will not work. It still advances, and eventually it will consume her.”
“We must do something!”
Ellese nodded. “We will. Only one option remains. We must amputate it.”
“No!”
“We have no choice. It is the only way to save her.”
“What about Bane?”
“What about him?”
Tallis made a helpless gesture. “Perhaps he could help.”
“No. He is not a healer.”
“We should at least ask him. He is a god, is he not?”
“He cannot heal, Tallis, not even himself. How can he heal Mirra? It will only upset both of them, and you know Mirra does not wish him to see it. Once it has been amputated, she will feel much better.”
“But she will be crippled. Can she grow another arm?”
Ellese frowned. “Do not be ridiculous. It is the only thing we can do, and I think you will find it is what she wants too.”
“Only because she wants it gone at any price.”
“And I do not blame her. You are not to suggest it to her, and I forbid you to speak to Bane about it. Her mental state is fragile, and he has been through enough. If he finds out what the Black Lord did to her, and that we cannot help her, I do not know how he will react. We will amputate it, and save her.”
Ellese walked off, her back stiff, and Tallis stared after her until she vanished around a corner before returning to Mirra’s room to offer what comfort she could. Mirra was curled up again, weeping, her malformed arm swaddled. Tallis sat beside her and hugged her.
“They are going to cut it off, Mir,” she murmured.
“Good.”
Tallis’ eyes stung, and she stroked Mirra’s hair, her heart heavy.
Ellese trudged down the hall, sadness a dull ache within her. The prospect of amputating Mirra’s arm brought her intense sorrow. Such practices were rare, performed only when no other hope remained. She recalled a blacksmith who had fallen into his furnace. His arm had become trapped for several minutes, burning it to the bone. He had required an amputation, and had lost his trade because of it. Mirra would still be able to perform her duties as a healer with one arm, but, even so, their failure to heal her was devastating.
Finding herself outside Bane’s door, she pushed it open and entered, dismissing the healer who attended him. He appeared to be asleep, and she sat down on the chair, rubbing her face.
“What is wrong?”
Ellese started at the sound of his voice, raised her head and forced a wan smile. “I am tired.”
Bane stretched and yawned, sat up and swung his legs off the bed. His wet clothes had been removed while he was unconscious, and now he discovered his nakedness, tugging the sheet around his hips. Ellese rose and went to sit beside him, ignoring his frown.
“The sun has returned. I can heal you now.”
“Just you? I do not have to be chained to the slab again?”
“No.” She smiled. “Just me.” He held out his hands, and she unwound the bandages. “Normally, I could heal you without removing these, but given who you are, and the power you contain, it will be easier if I take them off.”
He shrugged. “As you wish.”
When his hands were bared, she took hold of one, closed her eyes and concentrated. The dark power lurked just under his skin, blocking her healing, forcing her to probe for an opening. Then it faded, as if recalled by a silent command, and she opened her eyes.
Bane stared into space, and two of the rune scars glowed. Her healing rushed into his hand, and the blackness faded. The cracks in his skin closed and the flesh healed until only scars remained. What had been lost could not be replaced, however, and his fingertips remained a mass of pink scar tissue. Releasing his hand, she took the other one, and again the dark magic receded, opening his flesh to her power. When she finished, the runes went dark, and he held his hands up, studying them.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It was not difficult. But it only works in my limbs.”
Ellese rose and went to gaze out of the window, watching patches of sunlight wander the land. A fresh wind had sprung up, wafting the stench of mud and decay to her. “Is the Black Lord destroyed?”
“No. He is cast down.”
Ellese’s heart sank, but she had suspected as much. “How long before he can rise again?”
“Quite a while. There is virtually no power in the Land of the Dead.”
“Months? Years?”
“Months.” He continued to peruse his fingers, flexing them. “Has Mirra been healed?”
Her breath caught. “She will be, very soon.”
“Good.”
She headed for the door. “I will have food sent to you. Rest now.”
The elder mothers wasted no time in preparing for Mirra’s surgery. The instruments were set on the stove to boil, and their best cutter came to examine Mirra’s arm.
Tallis sat with her, trying to dissuade her. “Mir, you should not rush into this. It may heal in time. If you sat in the sun a lot, your power could overcome it.”
“No.” Mirra stared at the floor. “It will not work.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am.”
“Will you not at least talk to Bane?” Tallis pleaded.
“No!”
“Then let me ask him, please?”
“No.” Mirra raised her head. “I do not want him to know about it. You promised.”
“I agreed. I did not promise.”
“It is the same thing.”
“No, it is not.”
“Then promise me now.”
“No. How will you feel about seeing him when this is over?”
Mirra’s eyes overflowed. “I do not know.”
Tallis hugged her. “I am sorry. I just think this a big mistake.”
“I agree,” a new voice said from the doorway.
Jassid, head of the temple, stood there, frowning at Mirra. The abbess was a tall, spare woman with a gaunt, stern face framed by thin grey hair pulled back in a severe bun. She had been absent when they had tried to heal Mirra, but clearly she had heard about their plans.
The abbess came forward. “Child, this is a terrible thing you do. It can never be undone.”
Mirra bowed her head. “I have no choice.”
“You must give the healing a chance. Something so grave could take days to undo. If there is any hope of saving your arm, we must try. I will not allow this.”
“No!” Mirra looked up, her expression desolate. “I want this to be over now!”
“I understand your anguish, but -”
“You do not understand! It is trying to kill me!”
“What is?”
“This… this thing!” Mirra glanced at her swaddled arm with a shudder. “It wants to kill me.”
“How can it? It is merely a limb, a part of you.”
“No, it is not a part of me anymore. It is a part of him!”
Ellese came in, frowning. “What is going on?”
Mirra and Jassid turned to her, their voices raised. The argument flared, taking on new proportions as the shouting drew more healers, who joined one side or the other. Since Jassid was the abbess, most sided with her, and Ellese’s healers joined her side.
The cutter was a member of the abbey, and retreated at Jassid’s command. Mirra wailed and collapsed, sobbing. The argument raged until she jumped up and ran out. Tallis dashed after her, the arguing women following more slowly. Mirra vanished into a room down the passage, slamming the door. As Tallis reached it, the bolt clunked into place. She pounded on the wood, experiencing an inexplicable dread.
“Mirra! Open the door!”
Mirra’s reply came faintly from within. “Go away! I will do it myself!”
“No!” Tallis turned as Ellese strode up. “She is going to cut herself.”
Jassid scowled. “She cannot. The pain will stop her.”
Ellese glared at her. “She can. She has power from the healing. You should not have interfered, Jassid. She is my healer.”
“For a girl so young to lose an arm is unforgivable. This decision was rushed, ill-considered. Given time -”
“Given time it will probably drive her mad.”
Jassid shook her head. “A few more days would make no difference to her mental state, but may give the healing a chance to work. I will have all my healers work on this -”
“You do not know what a few more days will do to her mental state. I have touched that arm, and I say that healing will not work. She knows it too, and she is the most powerful healer in the land. Or have you forgotten?”
A crash and tinkle came from within the room, and Ellese turned to pound on the door. “Mirra! Wait! I will sort this out!”
Tallis pushed through the healers who had gathered outside the door and ran down the corridor, lifting her skirt so it did not impede her, her bare feet slapping on the floor.
Bane swung around when she burst into his room, his brows drawing together. He was alone, and in the process of dressing, his shirt undone.
Tallis gasped, “Come quickly! We need your help!”
His frown deepened. “What now?”
“It is Mirra!”
Bane crossed the room so fast it seemed as if he had Moved, reappearing beside her. “What is wrong with her?”
“Hurry!” She took his arm and tugged him after her, heading back down the corridor. Bane trotted beside her, his occasional stumbles reminding her that he was still weak.
“I could get there faster if you just told me where to go, girl,” he said.
Tallis pointed down the corridor. “Down there!”
He snorted. “That is a big help.”
They rounded the last corner, and Bane stopped as he encountered the shouting match going on outside the room in which Mirra had shut herself. Ellese pounded on the door, demanding to be let in. Jassid shouted at some of Ellese’s healers, who accused her of endangering Mirra’s life. Jassid’s healers defended her, and the two groups seemed on the verge of coming to blows.
That, Tallis knew, would never happen. Even a dispute such as this was unheard-of amongst healers. Bane strode up to them, and they fell silent at the sight of him, moving out of his path. The air crackled with the tension of his presence; anger radiated from him in palpable waves. Ellese turned at the sudden silence behind her.
Bane frowned at her. “What is going on here?”
She shot Jassid a hard look. “Mirra has locked herself in there. She will not let me in, and I am afraid she is going to do something foolish. I have to stop her.” She addressed one of her healers. “Go and fetch Martal. Tell him to bring enough men to break down a door. Hurry!”
Bane walked up to the door, and Ellese put out a hand to stop him, then snatched it back as he vanished with a surge of dark power that made the healers recoil.
The Demon Lord rematerialised just inside the door, and his gaze settled upon the girl who stood on the far side of the room, clutching a kitchen knife.
Mirra stepped back and hid her swaddled arm behind her. “Go away.”
“No.” Bane pulled back the bolt and opened the door.
Ellese swept in and headed for Mirra, her hands spread in a placating gesture. “It is all right, child. We will do as you wish.”
Mirra’s eyes remained fixed on Bane. “Get him out of here.”
Elder Mother turned to him. “Please go now. You have done all you can.”
“No.”
Mirra shouted, “Get him out of here!”
Ellese tried to push Bane out of the door, but he refused to budge. “Bane, please go,” she begged.
He scowled at Mirra. “Tell me what is wrong.”
“No!” She turned away as if she could not bear the sight of him.
Ellese thumped his chest. “Bane, get out!”
“No.”
Bane brushed her aside and approached Mirra, who retreated into the corner and raised the knife. He eyed the weapon, then his eyes flicked to her face. He knew she would not harm him; her threat was utterly against her nature. He stopped in front of her and gestured. The knife vanished, and Mirra stared at her empty hand. Two tears ran down her cheeks, and she turned her face to the wall. Bane touched her shoulder and jumped back with a hiss. For an instant, he was frozen, then he stepped forward and gripped the front of her gown, dragging her away from the wall. He turned her to face him, ignoring her struggles, and ripped the swaddling off her arm.
“That bastard!”
Mirra wailed and sank down in a heap, trying to hide her shame in the folds of her skirt. Bane lowered himself to one knee beside her, his heart thudding.
“Damn him. If he was not already dead, I would kill him.”
She bowed her head and said in a dead, hopeless voice, “Go away, please, Bane.”
“It is all right.” He hesitated. “I can help you.”
Ellese gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Tallis elbowed her way to the front of the gawping throng in the doorway.
Ellese lowered her hand. “Goddess, have I been so wrong?” She signalled to the healers who crammed the portal. “Get out, all of you. Tallis, you may stay.”
Mirra met Bane’s gaze with desperate, hopeful eyes. “Can you?”
He nodded. “Whatever the Black Lord can do, I can undo.”
“Goddess!” Ellese smacked a hand on her brow. “I am an idiot.”
Bane held out his hand. “Give me your hand.” Mirra put her good hand in his, and he smiled. “No, the other one.”
Mirra lifted her malformed arm as if unsure that it would obey her, shuddering as the scales rasped and the talons clicked together. Bane grasped it and closed his eyes. Four of the runes on his chest burnt as he Gathered the dark power from her. It poured into him, a staggering amount for her to have contended with for so long, enough to transform ten people instantly into monsters. He dispersed some of it, chilling the room with shadows. When he opened his eyes again, the transformation wavered, the scales shimmering, then it flicked across onto his arm. He released her hand and raised the scaly limb, studying it.
“This is the last harm he will ever do to you.”
Bane gestured with the clawed hand, and the monstrous limb vanished, leaving his arm unscathed. Mirra sobbed, staring at her restored arm, where some mottled red marks melted away as her power healed them. She looked up at Bane, her eyes overflowing, then flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. Bane rocked back on his heels, his masterful composure washed away by uncertainty and confusion. The runes cooled as he leashed the power, and his hands rose hesitantly to hold her as she wept against his chest.
Ellese gripped Tallis’ shoulder and pushed her to the door, opening it enough to let them slip out, then closed it in the curious faces of the healers outside.
She faced Jassid. “Problem solved. No amputation necessary.”
“How?”
“Our resident god, how else?”
Jassid’s eyebrows rose. “The Demon Lord?”
“The one and only. I feel like a complete fool.”
The Lady stirred on her bed of glowing cloud, her eyelids flickering as the blue welts on her arm vanished. She sighed, a slight smile curving her lips. Her realm brightened, the opalescent sky turning to mother-of-pearl, the rocks igniting to diamond fire, the flowers shimmering like distant stars. She began to wake.
Bane had never felt so awkward in his life. He had absolutely no idea what to do. Mirra seemed content to stay where she was forever, and he did not mind, but found that he wanted to push her away simply because the situation was so alien. He tried to rationalise it. She was grateful that he had helped her, and this must be how humans showed gratitude.
A part of him wanted to hold her tighter, but he was afraid of hurting her, and strange, pleasant warmth suffused his chest. No one had ever hugged him before, and the fact that she did not seem to care that he was filled with dark power made it all the more amazing. She had always shown a remarkable lack of fear, until she had seen him kill the emperor in the Old Kingdom. After that, he had not expected her to want to come close to him again.
As if reading his mind, she loosened her hold and leant back. “I am not afraid of you.”
He lowered his gaze to the floor. “That is... good... I suppose.”
“Yes, it is.” She glanced at her arm. “I did not think anyone could help me, but I should have realised that you could.”
“So should the old woman. She is supposed to be wise.”
“Ellese? Yes, I suppose so. She was going to have it amputated. That is what I wanted.”
He frowned. “That would not have helped. The power was bound to you. It would simply have shifted to another part of you.”
Mirra swallowed hard. “I do not understand why it did not transform me entirely. I watched him turning people into monsters in the Old Kingdom. It was horrible.”
“You had help.”
“Whose?”
He glanced up. “Your goddess, I think.”
“How do you know that?”
“I do not, but it is the only explanation that makes any sense. She had to protect you because...”
She tilted her head. “Because of what?”
“Nothing.”
Bane leant back, rested on his arms and untangled his legs to stretch them out.
Mirra studied him, humbled to be so close to him, able to touch him without fear as she had longed to since she had first met him. Releasing one hand from his neck, she ran her fingers down his cheek, then stroked the curving feathers of hair that fell from his widow’s peak. He closed his eyes. Emboldened by his acceptance of her touch, she leant forward and kissed him. He opened his eyes and stared at her, and her cheeks warmed.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
She sat back and lifted her arm. “For this.”
“Oh, that.” He regarded her in a puzzled manner. “Why did you do that?”
“What? Kiss you?” Her face heated further, but he did not seem to notice.
“Yes. Do you do it with a lot of people?”
“No.”
“Why did you do it to me?”
Mirra giggled. “You did not like it?”
“I did not say that.”
She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I wanted to.”
“Why?”
Mirra leant closer to stroke his cheek again. “You are so beautiful. Who would not want to?”
His brows shot up, and he pondered that, as if the concept of his appearance and its effect on other people had never occurred to him before. Ellese had told her what had happened with the mirror, and it amazed her that he had no idea what he looked like. Considering the reaction of people to him hitherto, he probably thought he was ugly.
She asked, “You had a sweetheart, in the Underworld, did you not? Dorel? Did she not kiss you?”
“No.” He frowned. “She was not my sweetheart.”
“What happened to her?”
“I destroyed her.”
“She has gone back to the Land of the Dead?”
“No. She is obliterated; gone forever.”
“Why?”
He uncoiled, rising to his feet and staggering a little. “I do not want to talk about it.”
Mirra jumped up. “Well, at least that is an improvement on ‘do not question me, girl!’” She giggled.
Bane’s eyes slid away, and he bowed his head. “I treated you badly, and I am -”
She clamped a hand over his mouth, making him start. “No, do not. I forgave you long ago. You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved my life more than once, and you saved the Overworld. All of us.” Removing her hand, she gazed up into his eyes. “Will you do something else for me?”
A vaguely suspicious look flitted across his face, reminding her of the old, distrustful Bane who had so frustrated her. Then he smiled. “If it is within my power.”
“It is. I want you to go to the Old Kingdom and undo what the Black Lord did to those people.”
“They are his worshippers.”
“They did not deserve what he did to them, and they certainly did not want it.”
“I am surprised he left any alive.”
“Not many. Will you do it?”
Bane shrugged. “I have to go there to close the Source he opened. It would be a simple matter.”
“Thank you. I would like to come with you, to see you do it.”
“To make sure I do?”
“No! Just to see you using your powers to do good.”
“A refreshing change.”
“Do not be bitter.” She took his hand, glancing down at it. “Goddess! What happened to your hands?”
“It is a long story.”
“Then let us go for a walk and you can tell me all about it. I long to be in the sun. Perhaps I can do something for your hands... Who healed you? Ellese?”
He nodded, then smiled and made a brief motion with his free hand. The scars vanished, and Mirra stared at his unblemished fingers.
“How did you...? You cannot heal yourself. Can you?”
“No. It is an illusion.”
She giggled. “Very clever.”
Mirra tugged him into the corridor, where murmuring groups of curious healers lingered. They clustered around Mirra to examine her arm, grinning. Many of her friends from her old abbey hugged and kissed her, and Bane watched them with a vaguely curious expression. Some of them cast him shy smiles of approval and awe, but they kept a respectful distance.
Only Jassid approached him, a determined glint in her brown eyes. He raised his chin when she stopped in front of him, meeting her eyes.
She smiled, making the sign of the Lady’s blessing. “I would like to thank you, Demon Lord, for all you have done for Mirra, and for the Overworld. May the Lady bless and keep you.”
Bane’s face became expressionless, and Mirra realised that he had no idea how to respond to this. She took his hand and tugged him away, leaving the abbess gazing after him with a wistful air. Mirra led him into the inner courtyard, where healers basked in the sun, and some cleared away the grey mud. The sun, still weak and intermittent, dried the slush, hardening it to the consistency of soft stone. Martal’s men scraped it up and shovelled it onto the cart to be taken away and dumped. Mirra gazed around at the cracked walls, saddened by the damage the abbey had suffered, while Bane squinted in the sunlight.
“It seems we have a lot of work ahead of us, repairing all this,” she commented.
Bane cast a measuring eye over the damage. Raising a hand, he let shadows trickle from his fingers and murmured a few strange words. The abbey shuddered, and the cracks closed with gritty grinding sounds as broken plaster rushed back into the walls. Men cowered, some throwing themselves down in the mud, and horses pranced and shied. Faint screams came from within the abbey, and Bane’s gesture raised a fallen wall and sent broken glass drifting back into the windows, making them whole.
Mirra watched spellbound, her mouth open, as the mud in the courtyard rose in a grey blanket and drew together into a ball that drifted out over the walls. She sensed his power like a tension in the air, and a soft hum accompanied it. This, she realised, was because there were no wards. Without them, his power was practically unlimited, and he forced the domain’s fabric to bend to his will with hardly any effort. A frightening thought, except that she trusted him. Repairing the abbey was a trifle to him, achieved with a motion and a few words; trivial to someone who could raise mountains and reshape the land just as easily, if he chose.
Bane let his hand fall, and the power vanished. After a stunned minute, the men rose and stared around, then grinned and slapped each other on the back, wandering off to find some enjoyable pastime. Healers appeared in the doorways, their pale faces, taut with fright, relaxing into smiles as they realised who had caused the ground to shake.
Mirra grinned. “Well, I was wrong. No work for us after all.”
Bane smiled, and they wandered on, into what had once been the orchard, now inhabited by bare, dead-looking trees. Mirra went up to one and stroked its bark, then shot Bane an impish smile.
“You have had your turn to show off. Now it is mine.”
Laying her hands on the tree, she raised her face to the sun and revelled in its warm touch as the power flowed like silk through her flesh. She sent it into the tree to nurse the dregs of life within it, encouraging the sap to rise and impart life to all its cells. Several minutes passed, then, with the slow grace of trees, tiny green buds appeared on its branches, swelled and opened little leaves to soak up the sun.
Mirra stepped back as the leaves continued to unfurl, casting Bane a triumphant grin.
He smiled, his eyes slits of blue fire. “You bring life, as I bring death.”
She returned to his side. “But I am not a god.”
“No, you are my opposite, my nemesis. Your abbess should have thanked you, for you are the one who defeated me, and through me, your goddess defeated the Black Lord.”
She took his hand. “You deserve more of the credit than any of us. Without you, none of it would have been possible.”
“Without me, none of it would have happened.”
“Then it would have been another, perhaps one who could not be turned to the light. No, you deserved the thanks.”
Bane smiled again and shrugged, and they wandered on. Beyond the orchard, the dark folk camped on the hallowed ground, sitting around their campfires in silent misery. At the sight of Bane, they knelt and pressed their foreheads to the ground, chanting his name in gruff voices. They were thin and bedraggled, their clothes and fur caked with dried mud, their faces gaunt and hollow-eyed. Their pitiful state horrified Mirra, and her heart ached for them.
Bane raised a hand, and they fell silent. “Go. Return to your homes.”
For several minutes, they digested this, then they rose, stamped out their fires and gathered their few possessions. Bane turned and walked away.