Persis knelt by the stricken woman. 'I am so sorry,' he said. Her eyes cleared momentarily and she smiled at him. No words were spoken, but her hand reached up and stroked his bearded face. As her skin touched his Persis felt a great warmth begin to flow through him. The searing agony of the abscess on his neck disappeared, and all the pain from the bruises and cuts upon his face and body faded away. Still the warmth grew, as if the sunlight was seeping through his skin, filling his veins with bright light. And with that light came a vast understanding that transcended any intellectual learning. His gaze locked to hers, and tears fell from his eyes. Her hand fell away.

Persis Albitane reached out and stroked her hair. He felt the power move within him. The three men remaining in the cell stood in astonished silence as they saw a pale light glowing round the dying girl. The dreadful, pus-covered whip wounds sealed themselves and healed without scars. The skin of her face began to glow with health, all her bruises disappearing. The light faded and Persis rose. He looked into the eyes of the guard.

'Don't hurt me,' said the man, backing away.

'How could I hurt you more than you are hurting yourself?' Persis asked him. He glanced back at the young woman. She smiled at him, and gestured for him to go. 'Do you have her veil?' asked Persis. The guard nodded dumbly. 'Then fetch it for her. And find her some clean garments and food. Will you do this?'

'I will. I promise,' replied the guard, still terrified.

'Then may the Source bless you,' said Persis. With one last look at the woman in the cell he took Norwin by the arm and walked along the dungeon corridor and up the steps towards the light.

Nalademus was put on trial before Jasaray's Council. The main witness for the defence was Voltan, who told of the murder plot, and also admitted Temple funds were used to help Stone's enemies in the east and prolong the war. Just before sentence Nalademus was allowed to speak. He at first railed at Jasaray – who was not present – accusing him of weakness and divisive policies, undermining the great destiny of Stone, but when sentence of death was passed he collapsed, and was carried from the chamber.

Bane sprinted up the hillside, hurdling a fallen tree, then slowed to an easy run as he entered the woods. The wounds on his left shoulder and side were healing fast. Rage had removed the stitches yesterday. The two men had – at first – exchanged only a few words.

'You are still angry with me,' said Bane, as Rage snipped the last stitch, pulling clear the thread.

'Not angry,' said Rage, 'disappointed.'

'I think you are wrong. I can beat him.'