In Legend Born (60 page)

"He was here today?" she repeated.

"Y—Yes."

"Alone?" Lann asked.

"No." The man's face brightened. "Josarian himself was with him! And, uh, Srijan the assassin. After... after it was done, Josarian gave the widow money and said he would ensure that her children do not starve, now that their father is..."

Zimran rose to his feet. "Where did Josarian and the others go afterwards?"

The villagers looked at each other nervously and remained silent.

Najdan shook one of them impatiently. "We're with them, you fool. Now tell us where we can find them."

"The inn at the edge of town," the man said. "The one with the beautiful gardens."

Najdan's eyes narrowed. "The one that
toreni
use?"

His informant nodded and added, "A
torena
is there right now,
siran
."

"Ah." Najdan glanced over his shoulder at Mirabar. "It seems you were right,
sirana
. We're needed in Zilar today."

Zimran grinned. "Now isn't a good thing that I convinced you all to come here when the
sirana
suggested it?"

Mirabar rolled her eyes and proposed that Najdan lead the way, since he seemed to know the place they were looking for.

Even the discovery of the
sriliah
's corpse and the news of her allies' presence here was not startling enough to distract Mirabar from the beauty of Zilar itself as she passed through the rest of the town. She had heard about Zilar's wealth, its beautiful views, its lovely foliage, and, of course, its vast gold-tiled temple. As she followed Najdan past the enormous Kintish structure now, she found it far and away the most impressive building she had ever seen. Though its size alone would have been extraordinary enough, the exquisite workmanship of long-dead Kintish craftsmen pleased the eye and stunned the senses even after centuries of decay. Nothing—not the repairs which were obviously needed, nor even the garish Sign of the Three the Valdani that had erected in front of the temple more than a century ago—could mar its beauty.

The inn at the edge of town was far more elegant than the few buildings Mirabar had ever set foot in before. Worried about the reaction her appearance would cause here, she started to pull a long, gauzy scarf over her flaming hair, but Najdan forestalled her.

"Kiloran owns this place," he told her, too quietly for Lann and Zimran to overhear, "and the keeper is loyal to us."

"Kiloran?" she whispered.

"No one knows." He added, "Probably not even the
torena
."

"It's Elelar, isn't it?"

"Probably. She comes here to alert Srijan when she wants a meeting. She has done so for..." He shrugged. "Several years, anyhow."

"And they're here, too..." Eager to find out why they had all been gathered together again, except for Kiloran, she preceded the men into the inn.

Her appearance in the entrance hall caused considerable consternation, but Najdan's orders were obeyed quickly and without question. The party of four was shown into a reception room where Tansen, Josarian, Srijan, and Elelar were absorbed in conversation.

Josarian greeted them with surprised pleasure and affection, particularly his smooth-talking cousin. Tansen was cordial to Lann and distantly polite to the rest of them. Srijan nodded briefly to Najdan and ignored the rest of them. Despite the circumstances, Elelar nonetheless displayed the ritual courtesy of a
torena
. Zimran, who had never seen Elelar before, was instantly transfixed by her. Having spent considerable time around Zimran, Mirabar found his intense reaction to the beautiful
torena
no more surprising than heat in summer. Mirabar cut short the greetings by asking Elelar what she was doing here.

"The Valdani have attacked a fortress on the northern border of the Kintish Kingdoms," Elelar answered. "They met with unexpectedly strong resistance. The Kints, it seems, expected the attack and were prepared to repel it." Elelar smiled with satisfaction. "The Palace of Heaven has acknowledged the attack as an act of war and is withdrawing all its ambassadors from Valdania and the Empire's provinces."

"War," Josarian said. "And a harder one than the Valdani expected."

"Yes. Meanwhile, the Empire's western armies are still fully engaged in the Moorlands," Elelar added.

"The Valdani are over-extended," Najdan guessed.

Josarian nodded. "There will be a shortage of men available to come fight in Sileria."

Mirabar nodded, staring at Elelar. "You wanted a meeting."

"I won't bother to ask how you knew," Elelar replied dryly.

"You have a plan."

"The
Alliance
has a plan."

"Well?" Mirabar prodded.

Josarian grinned, clearly relishing what he was about to tell her. "Ah,
sirana
, what's the one target in Sileria that would cripple the Valdani here overnight? A blow that even the Emperor himself would feel? The victory that would encourage all Sileria to join us now?"

"
I
don't know." Mirabar shrugged. "I'm a Guardian, not a..." She gasped, suddenly realizing what he was suggesting. Her jaw dropped as she looked from Josarian, to Elelar, to Srijan. She looked finally at Tansen, trying to interpret what little his expression gave away. If
he
believed it could be done, then
she
would believe it, too.

"By all the Fires," Mirabar said. "You're going to attack the mines of Alizar!"

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was a cool evening in Shaljir, the northern winds blowing with unseasonable force. Rain would follow the wind, and if Elelar couldn't get out of the city ahead of it, she would be stuck here until the roads dried. She stifled her impatience as she lay beside Borell in his comfortable bed. It was his fault she was still here when she had so much to do elsewhere, so many plans to make in preparation for the attack on Alizar.

However, tomorrow was an important Valdani holy day, and Borell wanted her here in Santorell Palace with him for the festivities. He had been insistent about it. She gritted her teeth and silently reminded herself that in exchange for everything Borell unwittingly contributed to the Alliance's goals, he was occasionally entitled to demand that Elelar act like a mistress.

Sensing her restless mood, Borell rolled towards her, gathering her to him. "What are you thinking about, my love?"

She didn't feel like talking to him, so she replied, "Ronall." That would shut him up. He disliked any mention of her husband.

Unfortunately, Borell was in an unusual mood tonight. "What about him?"

She had little enough to say about her husband, actually, to whom she usually gave less thought and attention than she gave to the cats in her stables. She searched for a comment.

"He's been so edgy ever since learning that the bandit Josarian was planning to abduct him," she offered.

The official story in Shaljir was still that the mountain uprising was nothing more than a bunch of bandits who'd grown too bold, too numerous, and too strong. Koroll and Borell knew better, of course, but they were trying to save face and preserve their reputations.

And that will be our weapon,
she thought with satisfaction.
They are beaten by their own pride and ruled by their conceit.

"Ronall is
still
whining about that?" Borell frowned. "That was at summer's end! He should act like a man."

She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. After all, Borell still complained about the minor robbery that several of Josarian's men (Najdan, Lann, and Zimran, actually) had committed at his country estate around the same time that Ronall had heard the rumors of his own planned-abduction. She briefly wondered what Ronall or Borell would do if they knew how closely she worked with the men who had so offended them.

"The Outlookers still haven't caught Josarian," she pointed out, rubbing a little salt into her lover's open wound. "So Ronall is afraid to leave Shaljir. He hasn't been away from the city since then, when he fled here in terror."

Borell went still. She thought he was thinking about Josarian, so his next comment surprised her. "Ronall's been here since then? The whole time?"

"Yes."

"I didn't realize." After a tense pause, he asked, "Has he had you since coming back to Shaljir?"

Had me.
As if she were a piece of meat. She loathed the expression. She loathed the idea. Sometimes, she truly loathed men.

Borell's grip on her tightened. "
Tell me.
"

"I'm his wife," she pointed out. A possession, she acknowledged bitterly, one that both men resented sharing.

"How many times?"

Not:
Has he hurt you?
Not:
Does your flesh crawl when he touches you as a husband?
Not:
Do you want to talk about it?

Only:
How many times has he enjoyed my plaything?

She wasn't feigning her reluctance when she said, "Borell, I don't want to t—"

"How many times has he had you, damn it?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Often."

"
How
often?"

"I don't
know
." She didn't like this conversation. Mistress or not, her conjugal relations were none of Borell's business. "One every few days since his return."

To her surprise, Ronall had been sober and rather polite about it the first time, coming to her room, calmly asking Faradar to leave, and then reasonably suggesting they attempt to get an heir. There was far too much bitterness between them for her to enjoy the coupling, but at least it hadn't hurt or been humiliating. In fact, she was painfully aware that he had tried rather hard to
make
it enjoyable for her several times since then, occasionally even staying all night and holding her while they slept. She didn't resist him, but her body remained unresponsive under his touch, her mind busy elsewhere. It surprised her, though, that she had briefly considered pretending pleasure for his sake on one or two recent occasions. Since his return to Shaljir, there was something subdued and, well, rather sad about Ronall. He had admitted to her one night that learning of Josarian's plan to abduct him had made him confront his own mortality. The incident seemed to be having a sobering effect on him; but Elelar knew it wouldn't last.

"Every few days?" Borell sounded angry. He lifted his head and scowled. "He's trying to get an heir, isn't he?"

"I imagine so," she replied, knowing a more affirmative response would only anger him.

"He thinks I'll give you up if he plants his seed in you."

"Won't you?"

The sudden grip on her arms surprised her as he hauled her off the soft sheets and said fiercely, "I'll
never
give you up!"

"A mistress eight months pregnant with her husband's child would be a rather inconvenient woman," she pointed out. Since she doubted there was much chance of her conceiving
any
man's child, she wasn't particularly worried.

"But
my
wife bearing
my
child?" Borell suggested. "Now that would be different, indeed."

Her wits were unusually slow tonight. "Are you planning to marry again?" she asked in some confusion. She knew his first wife had died before he ever came to Sileria. He hadn't mentioned plans for a new one, though.

"Perhaps." His foreign blue gaze held her. "Marry me, Elelar."

She couldn't have been more shocked if he'd thrown a bucket of cold water on her. "
Marry? You?
"

He laughed at her shrill voice and stunned expression. "Yes. Why not?"

"Why
not?
" He must be going mad. "Because I already
have
a husband."

Borell dismissed Ronall with a shrug. "Divorce him."

"I..." Her jaw worked, her mind reeling. "I can't."

He grinned, unperturbed. "Why not?"

"We... Divorce is not our custom here," she said vaguely. She had never foreseen this danger when weaving her spell around Borell.
Marriage!

His grin broadened. "
Our
custom?" he teased. "Sileria is part of Valdania now.
Our
customs are
your
customs now." Elelar controlled her shudder of disgust as Borell continued, "You live under Valdani law, not some barbaric Silerian tradition."

"My husband is half-Silerian," she protested, grasping at straws.

"His family is Valdani."

"But
my
family—"

"Elelar, trust me. I'll make it worth Ronall's while to let you go. He may resist at first, but his father will make him see reason, as before. As for your family..." Borell shrugged. "You've always said you have only a few distant relatives anyhow, so what do they matter? Besides, if they object too much, you can just abandon your inheritance. Let them have it, and that will shut them up."

"But I don't want to aban—"

"I don't want your lands and estates. I want
you
." He kissed her fiercely. "And I'm a very rich man, my love. You'll want for nothing."