Stolen Innocence

Chapter 14

The first meal after returning home from a mission was always a pleasant one for Bane. Jamyang's cooking tasted even better than on most days, and he enjoyed more than usual the conversation and banter between his brothers at table. Another positive aspect of this particular meal was that Damien Chase, the League's second-in-command, was not present, off on a mission in the Middle East. Bane had never liked Chase and his arrogant ways, nor did he appreciate the attention the American paid to Talia. He had always suspected Chase's indulgence of Talia had more to do with pleasing Rā's al Ghūl than any true affection for Talia.

One dark cloud, however, hovered over this evening's meal—Akar. As always, the boy moved efficiently about, serving the men and fetching anything they required, keeping cups filled and food hot. But he avoided everyone's eyes, especially Bane's, coming near him only when absolutely necessary. Bane could imagine how Rā's had dealt with Akar when he found the boy in that cave with Talia. The misdeed of accompanying her on her ill-fated flight was crime enough, but the impropriety of an older boy—one who had an enormous crush on Talia—being alone with her in such a remote place was even worse. A foolish worry on Rā's' part, Bane knew, for Akar would never even consider dishonoring Talia with any physical overtures. It had taken the boy months to simply meet Talia's gaze when she had first come to the monastery to live.

Bane ate slowly on purpose to be the last man at the large table, an unusual practice because his sustaining morphine injection limited his time without the mask. He watched from the corners of his eyes while Akar cleared away the place settings after each man left the table. Those dishes closest to Bane, however, he neglected for as long as possible, saying nothing as he worked, head down. Then the young man lingered an unusual amount of time in the kitchen before he returned for the rest of the dishes. By then, the men who had lingered in the common room in conversation had headed upstairs to their rooms. When Akar saw that Bane remained, surprise registered on his face, and he hesitated in the doorway before resuming his duties.

Once close to Bane to clear Temujin's setting, Akar moved quickly. When Bane spoke, the boy jumped and nearly dropped a plate.

"Sit down for a minute, Akar."

"I don't have time. I must finish clearing the table and start on the washing."

"I won't keep you long. Sit."

"Jamyang will be angry if I—"

"I will deal with Jamyang, if need be. Now sit, boy."

Bane's strong tone made disobedience impossible. With a frustrated sigh, Akar sat on the bench just down from Bane, glancing toward the kitchen.

"Rā's told me what happened while I was gone."

Akar's shoulders rounded. "I dishonored him. I deeply regret it. But I did try to stop Talia from leaving. Please believe me."

"I do. Of course I do. I know you, Akar." Now that he had convinced the young man to sit, Bane's demeanor softened. "Tell me what happened."

Akar hesitated.

"You are not betraying her by telling me the truth, Akar. And I expect nothing less from you than the truth. I know all of this was Talia's doing, so don't fear that I hold you responsible. I love Talia, but I'm well aware of her ability to manipulate. I'm going to talk to her about all of this, but before I do, I want to hear what you have to say. That's all I'm asking for."

These words brought color back to Akar's strained face, and tension left the boy's body. He sighed again, this time with relief.

"She tried to sneak off in the middle of the night, but I was down here getting a drink and caught her. She made up a story about going hunting with her father, but I knew better. So I followed her to the front door, to see for myself. The night before, I had heard her arguing with her father…about you, so I knew she was angry with him. And you know how she is when she's mad at anyone." A brief, tiny smile lifted one corner of his scarred lips. "I demanded she tell me what she was really doing, and she told me she was running away, to punish her father."

Bane frowned and shook his head. "So why did you not alert her father?"

"I should have. I know I should have, but…"

"But what?"

Akar bowed his head. "You will think me weak."

"I will think nothing of the sort. Tell me."

Akar faltered. "She said if I told her father, she would never speak to me again."

Of course this did not surprise Bane. Talia would know exactly how to wound Akar the most severely—by threatening their friendship. Here in this strict environment where most of the men came and went regularly—some never to return—it meant the world to Akar to have a friend, especially one close to his age, particularly now with Bane among the transient.

"You should have known she didn't mean it, Akar."

"I wouldn't be so certain. She was very determined and very angry. She's like that when you're gone."

Bane noticed Jamyang in the kitchen doorway, a towel in hand. He expected the old man to scowl and bark at Akar, but surprisingly he gave Bane a small, indulgent nod and something that passed for a tight smile, before he slipped back into the kitchen before Akar saw him. Jamyang could be a crusty cuss, Bane knew, but he also cared deeply for Akar, even though he never voiced such sentiment. That one glimpse of the cook told Bane of his concern for what had happened, and of course he would be ill-prepared to offer moral support, nor would he want to openly side with anyone but Rā's al Ghūl.

"I told Talia if she was going," Akar continued, "then I was going with her. Of course, she didn't like that very much, but I reminded her I have a promise to keep to you—to protect her the best I can. I knew you wouldn't want me just to watch her walk out that door all by herself."

"Very true, but I regret that keeping your promise to me required you to defy your master. Talia should never have put you in such a position."

"She's sorry, Bane."

"It's a bit late for that. She may be sorry, but I am sure that had little bearing on Rā's' reaction when he found you in that cave."

"The whole time we were there, I kept trying to convince her to go home, but then she became sick. So that was when I put a marker outside the cave. I knew her father and our brothers would be looking for her. I couldn't leave to go fetch help myself."

"A wise decision."

"And now she has pneumonia because I was too much of a coward to stop her from running away."

"Akar." Bane waited until the boy raised his head again. "You are too hard on yourself. I am guessing Rā's meted out some sort of punishment. That is enough. You need not punish yourself as well."

Akar glanced upward in the atrium as if in fear of seeing his master. "He was going to exile me," he murmured.

The word shocked Bane. He knew Rā's would be greatly disappointed with Akar, but…exile? However, considering that Rā's was unable to punish Talia as severely as he no doubt wished to, Bane realized Rā's had turned the brunt of his displeasure upon those he could chastise more thoroughly. Perhaps that transference of punishment had been why, in truth, Rā's had refused Bane's request to hunt down the woman responsible for Acayo's kidnapping. Indirectly Rā's assigned some measure of blame upon Bane for Talia's rebellion, considering what had motivated her. The unfairness rankled Bane. Surely Rā's would realize this pettiness and perhaps allow the mission after all.

"What made him decide not to exile you?"

"He told Talia that I was normally obedient and virtuous and that she could learn from me, so he gave me a choice. He said I could either accept exile in Drolma's village or I could come back here and face death if I meddled again."

Bane scowled. Though not surprised by Rā's' ultimatum, the thought of someone as gentle and good as Akar losing his life simply for doing what he thought was best for Talia made anger rise up and clench his fists. To occupy his fingers, he reached for the mask and donned it once more.

"You have nothing to worry about, Akar. I know you have learned a difficult lesson, and I will make sure Talia has learned it as well. Perhaps some good will come of this—Talia will no longer try to involve you in her intrigue. And hopefully there will be no more intrigue."

"Are you angry with me?"

"Of course not. I would have done the same, had I been in your shoes."

Akar frowned, appearing unconvinced.

Bane put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you will continue to do your duty, as we all must. And I thank you for looking after our wayward sister." He conjured a smile to ease the boy's humiliation. "You are the best man here, Akar."

At last a tiny smile of his own broke out on Akar's face. "Thank you, Bane. That means a lot to me."

Bane gave him a pat. "You had best get this table cleared, then, before Jamyang has your head on a platter. And I must speak with Talia."

###

The door to Talia's bedroom stood halfway open, and Bane heard Temujin within. The Mongol spoke too low for words to be distinguishable, but at least Bane knew Talia must be awake. He knocked gently upon the door.

"Come in," Talia called in a scratchy-sounding voice tinged with anticipation.

When she saw him, her pale face brightened, her expression opening. "Bane!"

He smiled behind the mask, heart swelling with love, erasing some of the regret and pain he still felt over Acayo's death. He remembered what Temujin had said on the plane—that Talia had the ability to heal him, and he had hope for that now. Seeing her was like fitting a missing piece into a puzzle to complete it.

He crossed the room in a few long strides, the oak floor protesting his weight. Temujin stood from the wooden chair beside Talia's bed and offered it to Bane.

"I have already stayed too long," Temujin said.

"You don't have to go, Jin," Talia insisted, reaching out. Bane sensed trepidation in her, as if she hoped Temujin remaining would shield her from the inevitable reprimand.

Temujin grinned and kissed her hand. "You and Bane have much to talk about. I will see you in the morning, üyerkhsen."

She frowned. "Good night, Jin. I'm so glad you're back."

"Me, too. Get some rest." He gestured at Bane and winked. "And don't let this lumbering bull tire you out."

She smiled. "I won't."

"Good night, then."

With a pointed glance at Bane, Temujin left, closing the door behind him.

Instead of sitting in the chair, Bane settled on the bed next to Talia. She pushed back her blankets and embraced him, her arms feeling weak around him.

"I missed you so much, habibi."

"I missed you, too, little mouse. Now, lie back down and rest."

Reluctantly she obeyed, and he pulled the covers, including her mother's blanket, back over her. She took his hand while the other opened to reveal her ivory elephant talisman.

"See. It brought you both back safely. I've kept it with me the whole time."

"How are feeling, habibati?"

"I'm starting to feel better, and Choden says I will be even better tomorrow."

"He has been looking after you well, of course?"

"Yes. And Jamyang made a wonderful soup for me. He said tomorrow I may have hot chocolate, if I'm feeling better."

Bane chuckled. "You are never too sick for that, are you, little mouse?"

She grinned.

He felt her forehead. "You still have a slight fever."

"Yes, but it's not as bad as before. I'm on antibiotics now."

"Very good." His hand smoothed her hair before retreating.

"Jin said your mission was a success."

"Indeed."

Her happy expression drifted away, and she set aside the talisman. "Jin told me about the girl…Acayo."

Bane dropped his gaze to their entwined fingers. "Yes, it was unfortunate."

Talia said nothing more until he looked at her. "I'm sorry, habibi."

"There is nothing to be sorry for. It was a necessity."

The sadness in her sapphire eyes told him that she saw through his feigned apathy. She brought her other hand to cover his, softly said, "What was she like?"

At first he was reluctant, yet he could deny Talia nothing, so he began to talk about Acayo. And as he spoke, he found more and more words flowing through the mask, a cathartic wave of description and explanation that went on for some time. But he stopped short of telling her about the moment when he had shot Acayo. He was not yet ready to relate that, not even to Talia, and she refrained from pressing him. Of course she would understand his mixed emotions, even at her young age; she was attuned to him, more so than he was himself many times.

"Did she tell you how she got the acid burns?"

"Yes, on our last morning together. Because of our talk the night before, I sensed that she shared her story with me as a way to thank me and to show a deepening of our bond. After all, I had told her about my injuries at the very beginning."

"What did she say?"

"She told me her father had wanted her to marry a man whom she did not love and even feared. His previous wife had disappeared. The fact that he showed little grief concerned Acayo deeply. She shared her concerns with her father, but he refused to listen. So she went to the man and told him she would never marry him, that she thought him cruel, though he tried to hide such things from the community. She also told him that she believed he had killed his wife or had someone else do it. He was furious, of course. Acayo said he probably felt that she was his last chance at a wife because the other fathers in the village would never marry their daughters to him. Well, a few days later, he waited for her to walk home from school. That was when he attacked her with the acid. He said no one would want her after that."

Talia's fingers tightened upon him. "How horrible. How painful that must have been." She studied Bane, softly added, "Of course you two would feel a bond, having both suffered what you did."

Bane thought he detected a slight coloring of jealousy in her last words. It did not surprise him. After all, she had never had to share him with anyone, not like he had to share her with her father.

"I mourn her because the world has few in it with pure hearts. And to have destroyed that myself…"

"Like Jin said, you had to, Bane." She rubbed his hand.

"I wish you could have met her, Talia. You two would have become friends, I'm sure of it. She was brave, like you, kind and intelligent." He pushed aside his sorrow, knew it was time to move on. "And there is something else you share with Acayo—willfulness." He raised a judgmental eyebrow at her.

She squirmed beneath the blankets and withdrew her hands from him, looking away.

"Your father told me what happened while I was gone. And I spoke to Akar as well."

She gave a small gasp. "What did Akar say? Does he hate me? Papa won't let him see me while I'm being punished. I have to stay in my room a whole month. A month, Bane! How can I train if I'm stuck in here?"

"You won't be in any condition for physical training for some time. Now don't change the subject, Talia."

She frowned and pulled her mother's blanket up to her chin, pressed deeper into the pillow as if to hide. With a fabricated yawn, she said, "Can't we talk about this tomorrow? I feel terrible, and I'm so tired."

"No, we shall talk of it now, and there will be no games, young lady."

Talia regarded him sadly, somehow making her beautiful eyes even larger, her long lashes fluttering. "Papa has already lectured me and sentenced me. Must you do the same? I've missed you so much. Can't we talk about something else?"

Bane scowled. "Talia."

Seeing that he would not relent, she went on the offensive. "Did Papa tell you why I ran away?"

"Yes."

"He wants to keep us separated. Did he tell you that?"

"He isn't separating us, Talia. But if you continue your rebellious tactics, he may send me away permanently. We've talked about this, you and I, haven't we?"

Stubbornness tightened her jaw, and she looked to the right, toward the blazing fireplace. "You should be angry at Papa, like I am."

"And what good would that do either one of us?"

"He's jealous, you know. He wants me to himself."

"What he wants is for you to excel in your studies, and what just happened proves that I am a distraction to you. That can't happen. I, too, want you to excel; I don't want to be the reason why you fail."

"I won't fail."

"But you have."

She turned back to him, insult darkening her cheeks. "I will take Sangye's test again, and I will pass—"

"I'm not talking about exams, Talia. Now, listen to me, and stop being petulant. Do you think I want to have this discussion, especially just back from a difficult mission and you lying here sick abed? I, too, would much rather talk of pleasant things, but what you did was very egregious. It does not affect only you; that is what you must remember. And I am not referring just to us, but to Akar."

Now the defiance in her expression crumbled into shame. She mumbled, "I didn't tell him to come with me."

"No, but you backed him into a corner, and he had little choice."

Talia fiddled with the edge of the blanket.

"And it could end up costing him his life if the two of you aren't careful."

"Papa was bluffing; he would never hurt Akar."

"Your father does not bluff. He would take no more pleasure in killing Akar than I did killing Acayo, but if he feels it's necessary…"

"You wouldn't let him do such a thing."

"Talia." Bane leaned forward. "I must obey your father in all things, as must you, even if it means Akar's end. You must understand. This is not a game your father is playing. He means what he says. Look at me, habibati, and tell me you understand."

Furrows creased her forehead. "I understand," she murmured at last. The lines deepened. "Is Akar afraid? I don't want him to be afraid."

"It might do him some good to be afraid for a while. The same for you, my shameful little minx."

A slight tremor stirred Talia's bottom lip, and she stared at the blanket, whispered, "I'm sorry, Bane."

He could not stay angry with her, no matter what, especially seeing her so sickly and, finally, genuinely remorseful for what she had orchestrated. Perhaps, he told himself, it was fortuitous that Akar had accompanied her, for his life being in the balance now might very well be the thing to keep her in check moving forward.

"Habibati," he said softly, all authority gone from his tone now. He touched her flushed cheek. "I'm only saying these things for your own good. You know that."

A tear escaped her eye. "I hate it when you leave. I didn't know how else to make Papa understand."

"He understands. But he sees our bond as something that can be a deterrent to both of us and our potential."

"Do you see it that way?"

"Of course not."

"Then what can we do?"

He smiled secretively and leaned close to her, spoke privately. "We will do our best to show your father that we are complying with his wishes. We must placate him. In time, I believe his grip will loosen, once he feels satisfied. Remember, there are often times when his work calls him away, especially now that you are older. It is those times that we must treasure and make the most of."

"But what if he makes sure you're away at the same time?"

"No doubt there will be such times, but I think he will feel more comfortable knowing that I am here to protect you when he is gone, just as I will feel more at ease knowing he is here with you when I am away."

Her fingers trailed absently over his mask. The gesture seemed to calm her; the tears had receded.

"No matter what, Talia, I will always be here for you. I will always come back. No one can keep me from that pledge. We are the same, you and I. Not even your father can stand between us. But you will promise me now that you will play your part—you will be the dutiful daughter, and I will be the good soldier. That is how we will stay together, yes?"

Talia looked deep into his eyes and offered a tight smile, whispered, "I promise."