Stolen Innocence

Chapter 1

Bane scowled at the mask before he donned the necessary breathing apparatus, which covered the lower half of his face. He had removed it in order to share the evening meal with his League brothers in the monastery's common room. The men of the League of Shadows viewed him no differently whether he wore the painkilling mask or whether he bared his scarred, mutilated face so he could eat. Beyond these hidden walls, however, Bane knew the outside world would never show him such magnanimity if he were to have occasion to take off the mask. This was one of the many reasons why Bane loved his home, the League's secret sanctuary high in Bhutan's Himalayas.

Now, alone in his small bedroom, Bane breathed deeply of the medicinal vapor that the mask delivered, perpetually protecting him from the agonizing residual pain of horrific injuries suffered nearly three years ago. Though he had learned to control the terror that originated from the beating he had received at the hands of fellow inmates in the pit prison where he had been born and raised, he knew he would never eradicate the memories. They were there, staring back at him, whenever he looked in the mirror, masked or unmasked. Inescapably, they were a part of his very fabric.

But he had no regrets. The price he had paid that day in the pit had been worth it, for his sacrifice had facilitated Talia's escape, the child for whom he existed, the light of his life, the daughter of a woman whom he had loved deeply, a woman who had sacrificed her own life for Talia's survival.

Bane glanced at his watch and frowned. Rā's al Ghūl was expecting him; he must not be late for the briefing. Another mission. This would be his third since his initiation into the League, and while on one hand the prospect excited him, he also dreaded the thought of leaving what he loved behind.

He left his Spartan quarters and paused outside on the catwalk where his attention first went to one of the rooms across the atrium. The door to Talia's room was closed. Perhaps she was studying. That—and when she slept—was usually the only time she kept the door shut. She preferred to have it open in order to be aware of the comings and goings of the others who lived here in the dormitory, particularly Bane and her father. She had always been a curious child, and now, nearly thirteen years old, she had augmented that curiosity with a desire for control. If she needed to influence him or another League member or apprentice to do or not do something, she would use her charm, wit, intellect, and prepubescent beauty to achieve her goals. Benign goals, of course, nothing mean-spirited or truly selfish. No, it was more of a game to her, perhaps an insecurity even, caused by her incarceration in the pit for the first ten years of her life, a place where she had no control whatsoever over her existence.

Bane smiled at the thought of Talia at her desk, poring over her textbooks, studying for Sangye's exam tomorrow. She enjoyed learning as much as Bane did, though she often gave her teacher trouble when she felt more motivated to study the physical arts, like jujitsu, with Bane in the dojo than something cerebral in the confines of her room. Sometimes she would even sneak away from the monastery to visit the village in the valley or to trek the mountain in search of adventure, though such unescorted disobedience incurred her father's displeasure and punishment (which usually consisted of simply confining her to her room).

Although Rā's al Ghūl dealt swiftly and severely with any League member who was guilty of some infraction, disciplining Talia was difficult for him. Bane knew this was not simply from Rā's' love for her but instead it was a byproduct of his heavy burden of guilt over his daughter's imprisonment and his wife's murder. He had known nothing of their plight, had not even known that his wife was pregnant when he had been forcibly separated from Melisande after her warlord Muslim father learned of her secret marriage to Rā's—known as Henri Ducard then, an infidel in the warlord's personal security force. Ever since Talia's escape from prison, Rā's had been a doting, albeit strict, parent, trying to make up for ten years lost.

"Waiting for me?"

Temujin's voice and his footsteps on the wooden catwalk turned Bane. The small, stout Mongol's grin raised his pencil-thin mustache and reduced his narrow, dark eyes to mere slits.

"Staring at her door won't bring her forth," the older man counseled. "Besides, you might not want to see her after she learns you are leaving again; she will be unhappy, to say the least."

Bane frowned behind the mask and stared downward several floors to the common room's table, all traces of dinner cleared now by Akar and Jamyang.

Temujin clapped a companionable hand upon Bane's shoulder. "Don't look so glum, my young bull. Leaving is difficult, yes, but once you are set to the task time will pass quickly, and you will be back here before you know it."

Bane's frown only deepened, and he avoided his friend's penetrating gaze. Unlike Bane, Temujin was unaware that their time with Talia was finite. Her father had plans to send her away to school in Switzerland in less than two years' time. When Rā's told Bane the regrettable news, he had sworn him to secrecy; not even Talia was to know until that fateful time arrived, for Rā's knew he would have a monumental battle on his hands. So Bane realized that with each mission departing would become more and more difficult.

"Come," Temujin encouraged, his hand dropping away from Bane's shoulder. "Let us not keep him waiting. And the sooner we are away, the sooner we will be back."

Bane nodded and followed his mentor along the catwalk to Rā's' room, which was adjacent to his daughter's. After Temujin's knock, their commander called them in.

As Demon Head of the League, Rā's merited the dormitory's most spacious living quarters, which also served as his office. A bank of opaque windows allowed natural morning light into the space, spilling across a large, elegantly carved walnut desk. A blazing fire in the hearth kept the mountain cold at bay and provided additional illumination. A door to one side of the fireplace led to a bedroom and private bath. Rich tapestry rugs covered much of the hardwood floor. Opposite the bedroom was a table covered in maps and other intelligence. Rā's stood next to it, pouring cups of steaming coffee for himself and Temujin. Of course the mask would not allow Bane such an indulgence, nor was it worth having to inject himself with morphine in order to remove the mask to partake.

"Good evening, gentleman," Rā's said in his rich, smooth voice as Bane closed the door behind them. "Please be seated."

Rā's al Ghūl was a formidable man, both intellectually and physically. He stood as tall as Bane, his body lean and strong like a tiger, where Bane was more muscle-bound and broad like the bull to which Temujin often likened him. Rā's' brown hair was thinning and receding from his wide forehead, his temples touched by a hint of frosty gray, which also peppered his goatee. His blue-gray eyes, which could pierce a man to his very soul, were separated by a prominent nose that had been broken on more than one occasion, set above harsh, thin lips that rarely smiled except for Talia.

Bane held Rā's in the highest regard as his master while as a man Bane's opinion was not so steadfast. When Bane had been rescued from the pit prison by Rā's two years ago, he had immediately idolized the man, and a part of him—the orphan—had looked to Rā's as a father figure. He had hoped that their relationship would grow into one of mutual affection and form a bond like that of which Bane's own father had denied him. But Rā's had always kept him at arm's length. At first Bane had thought it was merely Rā's' cautious nature, a part of his rigorous training to stay emotionally aloof and thus unencumbered, yet as time passed and Bane's own training progressed at an impressive, unprecedented rate and aptitude, Rā's' outer chill refused to melt. Though he was indeed pleased with Bane's skills and desire to excel, he was not moved emotionally, no matter Bane's efforts to garner his love through both his dedication to the League and his efforts to personally engage the man. Bane hid the pain and disappointment this failure caused him. He told himself that in time he would accept the situation.

But just before his official initiation into the League, the dynamic between the two men had been altered. Rā's told him of his future plans for Talia, once she was grown and educated, plans that served not Talia but the League alone. She would be positioned to catch the eye of one of the world's wealthiest men, Bruce Wayne of Gotham City who, according to Rā's' plan, would marry her.

"With beauty comes power, Bane, especially among intelligent women," Rā's had said. "Talia will be able to wield her beauty like a weapon in the same way that you wield those lethal fists of yours."

The League would manipulate Wayne and his fortune in order to ultimately destroy Gotham and eradicate its crime and corruption from society, to restore balance and justice, as was the League's purpose throughout the world.

While Bane would never argue with the League's goals, he would and did question Rā's' wisdom in this decision that would deny his daughter her freedom to choose her own mate and personal happiness. Rā's, of course, would hear none of Bane's respectful objections, reminding him that their lives were not their own; they, including Talia, belonged to the League and were sworn to serve, no matter what the cost. Since then, Bane resented Rā's' plans for Talia, and he knew Rā's sensed this and looked at it as a challenge to his authority. There had always been a subtle uneasiness between them because of Bane's role in prison as father figure and protector to Talia as well as the inseparable bond that life in the pit had forged between them, not to mention Bane's obvious affection for Melisande. Temujin had warned Bane about the friction such history could produce and always cautioned him to be mindful of their master's sensitivity to the issue.

Now as Bane and Temujin settled into the chairs at the table in Rā's' room, Bane once again sensed that disquiet and wondered if that was why his master had decided to send him on yet another mission so soon after the last one.

Rā's remained standing on the opposite side of the round table, those steely eyes measuring them both as he spoke, "In the morning you will leave for Zaire."

Impulsively Bane asked, "You won't be coming with us, sir?"

"No, Bane. Accompanying you on your first two missions was sufficient to convince me that you require no one but your supervising officer for future assignments."

Both disappointed and flattered, Bane nodded and forced himself to hold Rā's' gaze without betraying either emotion.

Rā's opened a manila folder and set a dossier before his two operatives. The photograph of a man of African descent stared back at Bane, a man with dark, dead eyes set deep in their sockets.

"Joseph Mutara," Rā's said. "Born and raised in Uganda, a Hutu. Former member of the Interahamwe militia. Wanted by the Rwandan government for crimes against humanity during that country's recent genocide. He fled Rwanda and is now operating in Zaire where, among other nefarious undertakings, he is active in human trafficking. Your mission is to apprehend him. He will then be delivered to the Rwandan authorities. There is a large price on his head, and the League is in need of such funds. But more important than the financial gains is that this man will no longer be able to harm innocent people. One of our operatives in Zaire, Eshele Zakuani, has been tracking Mutara who has proven elusive. His reports are in the dossier." Rā's gripped the lapels of his belted tunic in a familiar, confident pose. "Zakuani now has intelligence that he believes will lead you to Mutara."

Bane continued to study the photograph, the way he used to sit for hours on end in the prison bawdi and observe other inmates, using such patient methods to learn much about each individual.

"Zakuani reports that Mutara has kidnapped two dozen schoolchildren," Rā's continued, "and plans to sell them to the diamond trade as slave labor."

Bane looked up, appalled at the idea of children as slaves, children ripped from families and terrified, as he had been after his mother's death in prison. He imagined Talia in such a horrific situation. "So we are to rescue the children."

"Your objective is Mutara," Rā's stressed. "Acquiring your target may mean collateral damage. Of course I don't relish the thought, but there is always that risk. Are you prepared for that, Bane?"

He frowned. "Yes, sir."

Rā's' gaze shifted to Temujin with concern. "This won't be an issue?"

Now Bane scowled, for he knew Ra's was not questioning Temujin's abilities but his own, and he quickly spoke before his SO could, "It's not an issue, sir, I assure you."

"Very well," Rā's said, putting his hands behind his back. "You will fly into Kolwezi in Katanga. Zakuani will meet you there. He and an associate will form the rest of your team. Temujin will lead the operation." Rā's paused. "The jungle climate may prove to be a challenge for your mask, Bane. However, there is no way to find out how it will handle the humidity unless it is tested in the field. If Temujin feels the mask is impeding your effectiveness, you will be relieved of your duties there and return here."

With unfounded confidence, Bane said, "I'm sure there will be no need for that, sir."

"Again I will stress that you must always be prepared for anything, Bane."

"Of course, sir."

After a few more details were discussed, the briefing ended, and Bane followed Temujin out of the room. He could not shake the feeling that Rā's lacked confidence in his inclusion in the mission, yet if that was true, why had Rā's selected him to begin with? Or had his master not anticipated his reaction to the kidnapped children? Considering his own daughter, how could Rā's seem so unmoved by the captives' plight? Or was it all a façade on his part? No, Bane decided, for Rā's was a man who would do whatever was necessary for the success of a mission, no matter how odious some of the details might be. I need to be more like him, Bane thought. I must improve my focus.

Temujin made a concerned noise and halted on the catwalk just a few steps away from Rā's' room. Curious, Bane stopped next to him. His mentor raised one eyebrow and subtly motioned across the atrium with his chin. There Bane saw Talia standing outside of his bedroom, turned away from them, leaning back against the catwalk railing, arms crossed against her chest, her head down as if in heavy contemplation, one foot moving restlessly against the floorboards.

Quietly Temujin said, "It appears someone was eavesdropping outside her father's door just now. And she doesn't look happy with what she's heard."

Once more Bane's heart grew heavy at the thought of leaving Talia, his concerns about Rā's chased away by the sight of her standing there alone.

Temujin briefly rested a hand on Bane's shoulder, his expression a mixture of amusement and regret. "I will leave you to it, then. Good luck, my friend. I will see you in the morning at 0500 hours. Don't let our little sister interfere with your rest. We have a long and arduous journey ahead of us tomorrow."

Bane watched his SO head downstairs. Talia glanced over her shoulder at Temujin's descent but did not turn to look at Bane, though he was certain she knew he was there. With an inward sigh, he started toward her.

When Bane halted next to her, she did not raise her large sapphire eyes, and her tapered jaw tightened with displeasure. Her delicate hands now rested behind her on the railing, her fingers flexing slightly against the wood. At dinner her shoulder-length sable hair had been pulled back from her attractive oval face, but now it hung loose and forward, as if she wanted it to hide her from the world.

"Talia," Bane said softly. He kept himself from touching her, for he sensed her desire for distance.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" she said in a clipped tone.

"In the morning, yes, I'm afraid so."

With unexpected speed, she wheeled away from him toward the nearby stairs, but Bane caught the sleeve of her brown tunic. She glared back at him, lips pressed in a tight line, and tried to jerk free.

"Talia, wait."

"Let me go."

"Why are you angry? You know I have no choice."

"You just got back," she shot, blinking as if to hide emotion.

"I've been back two weeks."

His words only seemed to stir her anger more; her jaw muscles twitched. Again she tried to pull from his grasp.

"Talia, stop. Stop it. Come here."

Voices from the common room drew near the base of the stairs. Two of their brothers came into view. They would soon climb toward their rooms and be unwitting and uncomfortable witnesses to this confrontation.

Bane reached for Talia with both hands now, taking her by the shoulders. For only an instant she resisted, hopeless against overpowering him. No one could.

He kept calm, as Temujin had taught him. "Your father won't be pleased if he sees you making a scene." Bane glanced pointedly toward Rā's' closed door. This settled her a bit.

Quieter she ground out, "Is he leaving with you?"

"No."

Her surprise at this news seemed to distract her from her anger. "Why not?"

"He feels it unnecessary to accompany me."

Talia no longer leaned away from his hold upon her. She glanced at her father's door then back to Bane, swallowing. "Why is he sending you out so soon? It's not fair. Someone else could go. Someone else should go."

The two other men began to climb the stairs.

"Let's go to your room," Bane suggested. "We can talk privately."

She gave him a cool look and instead resolutely marched into his room. Bane sighed in exasperation. The older Talia grew, the more complex and challenging she had become. And he knew from Temujin's and Rā's' warnings that her complexities would continue to expand. Though Bane was proud of her maturation, sometimes he longed for the more pliable child of the pit.

Before Bane had gone to Rā's' room, he had lit a fire in his bedroom, so now when he returned, warmth greeted him. The last light of day struggled through the opaque glass of the single window, adding to the fire's radiance, revealing the room's simplicity—a bed, a humble desk, and a rustic dresser. Talia drew near the hearth, stood there staring at the flames for a moment as Bane went to sit on his bed. He expected her to join him there, but instead she pulled the chair out from the desk and sat, angled slightly away from him and toward the fireplace. The golden glow danced against her dusky complexion.

"Where is he sending you?" she asked, most of the anger gone from her voice, replaced by a hollowness.

"Zaire."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure. However long it takes, of course."

"What is your mission?"

"To find a man involved in human trafficking."

"A dangerous man?"

"Judging from his dossier, yes. He was involved in the Rwandan genocide."

She frowned. "Papa should be going with you. He would keep you safe."

Bane chuckled. "Was he in the pit with me those twenty-five years, habibati?"

Talia sheepishly bowed her head. "No."

"And I survived all that time, didn't I?"

"Until he rescued you."

Bane wondered if her reminder of how helpless he had been that day when Rā's al Ghūl and his men had stormed the prison had been purposeful.

"I'm well-trained. You know that, and so does your father. I'm proud that he feels confident enough to allow me to do this without him."

"Jin will be with you, though?"

"Of course. As my SO he'll accompany me on every mission for this first year. Surely you haven't forgotten that."

"I just wanted to make sure nothing had changed."

"Well, nothing has changed there, no. But something has changed here, with you. What is it?"

Talia struggled with her response, and Bane patiently waited for her to organize her thoughts.

After she had started and stopped three times, Bane patted the mattress and gently invited, "Come over here, next to me. You're being silly sitting there by yourself."

She muttered toward the fire, "I am not being silly."

"Well, then, stubborn. Either way…" He patted the bed again.

At last she capitulated and shuffled across the wood floor to drop heavily to the bed. Normally she would sit close, but today she kept a small space between them.

"Here," Bane said, reaching around her for a blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed. The blanket had belonged to her mother. Handcrafted in some Middle Eastern village, the article had been a gift from Melisande's husband, and she had cherished it until her dying day. The rich, deep reds and browns and the finely sewn floral designs complimented Talia's complexion as Bane draped it around her to offer solace more than any needed warmth. Then he put his muscular arm about her and drew her close. Surprisingly she did not resist.

"Tell me what is troubling you, little mouse," he said, watching her closely.

"I don't want you to leave tomorrow."

"You know I have no choice in the matter. It's my duty. It's who I am now, who I must be." His hand brushed her hair away from her face. "You weren't upset like this when I left the other two times."

"But I was." She kept staring at her hands as she picked at one of the cuticles. "I just hid it from you and Papa."

Surprised by her deception, he was pained by the thought of being the cause of her sorrow. "It's not easy for me either. I hate leaving you, but perhaps in time it will become easier for both of us. You must focus on your studies and your training, and before you know it I will be back."

"I'm afraid," she murmured, as if ashamed of the admission.

"Afraid?" Bane's finger tipped her chin up to encourage her to look at him, which she reluctantly did. He tried to smile to give her strength. "The daughter of Rā's al Ghūl is never afraid. I have never seen it."

Talia frowned and returned her attention to her fingernails, torturing them further.

Abandoning his attempt at teasing, he sobered and caressed her cheek. "What are you afraid of?"

"That you won't come back. That something terrible will happen to you. I can't lose you like I lost Mama."

"Habibati, look at me." When she obeyed, he continued, "I will always come back for you, just like you came back for me after you escaped the pit. Nothing can separate us."

"How can you say that? When you leave here, you're putting yourself in danger. Someone could hurt you, someone could kill you."

"Talia." Gently Bane turned her toward him, finding tears in her eyes. "Look at this." He pointed to the mask. "Is this the face of someone who's easy to kill?"

"Papa should let me come with you. I have enough training now to help you and Jin."

"Neither your father nor I will allow such foolishness. Your education comes first. You have your whole life ahead of you, and the life I now lead should never be yours. You have so many opportunities waiting for you. You do not belong in the jungles of Zaire. You are made for better things."

"But if I was with you, I wouldn't be afraid; we would be together, and we'd come back together."

"Talia." He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "I will come back. I promise you."

"You can't promise that. You don't know what will happen out there."

Desperate to soothe her, Bane held up the edge of the blanket between them. "Whose blanket is this?"

"Mama's," she said with confusion.

"And what would she say right now if she were here? She would tell you to think clearly and be brave, to accept the situation and make the best of it. She would not want you tramping through the jungle with me and Jin. What did I promise her?"

Dejected, Talia muttered, "That you would protect me. But—"

"No buts. You will be safe, here, with your father and our brothers. And I will fulfill my mission better knowing that. We must both make sacrifices. Our lives are no longer our own. We serve others, not ourselves. It is not an easy lesson, but it's one you must learn."

She sighed in frustration, her shoulders slumping.

"You have friends here, friends who will help you through any difficult times while I am gone. You have your father."

Her lips twisted. "I can't talk to Papa about you."

"Why not?"

"Because he always tells me that I mustn't depend on you, or anyone, so much. He says it's a weakness."

"Dependence can be a weakness, yes, but love is not. If you feel you can't speak to your father about such things, then you can speak to Choden. He will be discreet, and he will understand. Don't isolate yourself, habibati; it will change you in negative ways. Increase your meditation while I am gone. Find peace there and strength. Will you try, for me?"

She frowned and nodded, sniffling.

"Thank you." He pressed her tightly to his side once more before releasing her. "Now I must clean my weapons and pack. Would you like to help me?"

Again she nodded.

"Good. Then when we are done, I will help you study for a bit before bedtime."

This lured a small smile from her. She kissed his mask and hugged him tightly, her mother's blanket clinging to her shoulders.