'Heart and head,' said Rage softly. 'It is a difficult balance to find. Without heart and passion a warrior cannot function at his best, but without the head he will not survive. You know why they first called me Rage?'

Bane took a deep breath, fighting to control himself. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to kill this arrogant whoreson. 'No,' he said, his hand still hovering over the knife hilt.

'Because I never get angry. It was a joke, you see. I hold it all in here,' he said, tapping his broad chest. 'I stay smooth on the outside, allowing my body to accomplish what it is trained to do.'

'Good for you,' said Bane, still trembling with suppressed emotion.

'Calm down, boy. That's why I asked about self-discipline,' said Rage. 'Without it you'll fail. I am forty-eight years old, and I just downed you twice. The first time because you were taken unawares, the second time because you reacted with heart but no brain. I know you've got nerve. I saw that in Garshon's hall. I saw also that you have speed and good co-ordination.' Rage rose to his feet, removed a red silk cloth from the pocket of his black shirt and tied it over his shaved head.

'I thank you for your compliments,' said Bane coldly. 'But I'd like to see you best me now I'm prepared.'

'Takes you some time to learn, boy, doesn't it?' said Rage. 'Whenever you're ready.'

Bane advanced cautiously, then threw himself at the man. Rage grabbed his outstretched arm, twisted on his heel, and threw Bane over his hip. Keeping hold of the arm he flipped Bane to his belly, then touched the young man's throat with his index finger. 'If that was a knife you'd be pumping blood right about now.'

Bane sat up. 'You've convinced me. How do I acquire this . . . self-discipline?' he asked.

'That is just one of many skills,' said Rage. 'Have you breakfasted yet?'

'No. Persis told me to be here just after dawn.'

'Good. Can you run?'

'Of course I can run.'

'How far?'

'As far as I need to.'

'Then let's begin,' said Rage, setting off slowly towards the eastern hills. Bane removed his cloak, left it hanging over one of the wooden frames, and set off after the older man. Coming alongside he said: 'Where are we going?'

'Over the hills,' responded Rage.

'Why are we running so slowly?'

'We're warming the muscles. We'll stop at the first crest and stretch, then the real work can begin.'