In Legend Born (88 page)

The only news of interest he'd received lately was that Valda was finally sending a new Imperial Advisor to replace Borell. Koroll had never thought he'd be pleased to see another smug aristocrat inhabiting Santorell Palace, but he had found the dual duties imposed by Borell's death to be a tremendous burden in the current circumstances.

Depressed, discouraged, and exhausted, Koroll was preparing to quit work for the evening and retire to the pleasures of his Kintish courtesan. Her contract would be due for renewal soon, and he suspected she intended to raise her price; Kintish courtesans were even better businesswomen than they were lovers. He wouldn't be able to afford her anymore if she did increase her fee, so he intended to take full advantage of her remaining nights in his bed. He was just about to leave his command chamber when a mud-stained Outlooker was admitted bearing an urgent message from Liron.

The man closed the door and handed the message to Koroll, who absently dismissed him as he opened the dispatch. It read:

If you want to live, stay silent.

He didn't even have time to inhale before he felt the icy touch of a
shir
against his throat, singeing his flesh with its frigid fire.
An assassin
—disguised as an Outlooker and speaking excellent Valdan. Koroll didn't bother to wonder how the man had gotten into Shaljir or past his own guards. This one was very good; Koroll had never even seen the attack coming from halfway across the room.

Summoning all the courage he had ever possessed, he asked very softly, "Considering the situation, why would you want me to live?"

"Now that, Commander, is a very good question." The assassin's Valdan really was excellent, Koroll noted. Then, of course, Tansen's had been, too. "I can see we're going to get along well."

"I wouldn't go
that
far," Koroll said dryly.

"Better and better." The man sounded coolly amused. "Before we proceed, Commander, let me make one thing quite clear. If you cry out for help at any point, even after we're done talking and I'm on my way out of your formidable headquarters, I will kill you. It would be fatal for you to doubt me on this."

"I don't."

The
shir
pressed against him a little harder. "And if
I
don't kill you, then my master certainly will, for he sent me to you in good faith."

"He should have warned me, then," Koroll pointed out.

"So you could arrange a suitable welcome for me?"

Koroll didn't want to spend all evening in a verbal dance. "Are you going to tell me who sent you?"

"Kiloran."

Koroll drew in a swift, sharp breath and looked up into the face of the man who held a deadly, enchanted blade at his throat. He was a strong, fine-looking fellow, though his cheek was marred by a long scar. He was sleek, swift, and confident, and he smiled at the reaction Kiloran's name had provoked.

"Kiloran?" Koroll repeated hoarsely. "Why did he send you to me?" If Kiloran hadn't sent the assassin just to kill him, then he couldn't imagine what the waterlord wanted.

"Ah, Commander. You and my master have a mutual problem."

"We do?" That was hard to imagine.

The assassin nodded. "His name is Josarian."

His heart was beating so heavily it hurt. Hope, withered by the disastrous defeats he had endured throughout the long rains, began to bloom again within his breast.

Kiloran means to betray Josarian.

He didn't ask why. He didn't
care
why. Silerians couldn't help themselves. It was in their nature, their blood, their history. They could never unite, not for more than a fleeting season.

I can still win.

The taste of victory was already in his mouth when he said, "Yes, evidently we do have a mutual problem. Have you perchance come to discuss how we can help each other?"

"That's
exactly
what I've been sent to discuss, Commander."

Koroll risked moving away from the
shir
. The assassin didn't try to stop him. "In that case, you won't need that. Please..." He paused before asking, "What's your name?"

"Searlon."

"Please, Searlon." Koroll gestured courteously to a chair. "Take a seat, and let's talk like civilized men."

The assassin grinned. "Why, thank you, Commander."

Kiloran's fury knew no bounds. Though Elelar could not sense such things, Mirabar had commented that the air vibrated with the chill of his rage. Elelar had only to look at the old sorcerer's face, though, to know he was on the edge of abandoning the rebellion.

They were meeting near Britar, at the same fortress that Josarian and Tansen had liberated in their first battle together. The
shallaheen
were using its burned-out interior to stable livestock which they grazed on the rich local pastures they had seized from Valdani landlords. The lowlanders were keeping stolen horses in many of the vacated fortresses and outposts that they took over; the mounts were more practical in the lowlands than in the heart of the mountains. Most
shallaheen
still preferred traveling by foot and letting sure-footed donkeys carry their supplies. The sea-born folk burned and sank every ship they attacked, but soon Liron would fall, and the sea-born folk would be granted control of the city's port as their reward.

The
toreni
, merchants, and city-dwellers were finally flocking to the cause. Some believed the story of Josarian's triumphant leap into the volcano. Some merely feared what the rebels would do to them if they didn't join the rebellion. Others believed the end of Valdani rule was at hand and wanted to be part of their native land's victory over the foreign invaders. Many were influenced by friends, relatives, and associates within the Alliance who could, for the first time in their lives, be forthright about their mission.

Elelar still couldn't return to Shaljir, of course, and the estate she had inherited from Gaborian was still in Valdani-occupied lands. When he judged it safe, Zimran had escorted her to the ever-growing territory controlled by the rebels, spreading out in all directions from Dalishar. Respected as a
torena
and a leader of the rebellion, Elelar, along with Faradar and several of her former servants who had reached safety, was housed at an abandoned Valdani estate near the village of Chandar. These were chaotic times, so she didn't have all the comforts to which she was normally accustomed, but she was far better off than she had expected to be. Besides, almost any place seemed luxurious after spending the rainy season in the caves of Mount Niran.

She had come to Britar to discuss the assault on Shaljir now that the long rains were ending. It was nearly the New Year, nearly spring. It seemed incredible that the world had changed so much in only one year.

It seemed incredible that a
shallah
was now hailed as the Firebringer and leading Sileria to a new age of freedom from foreign rule.

At the moment, actually, it just seemed incredible that Kiloran didn't call up the mythical White Dragon to consume Josarian on the spot.

Since Kiloran's power, though great, was finite, he couldn't control the mines of Alizar (which the Valdani were trying to reclaim with all manner of engineers, priests, and exotic wizards)
and
stop the Idalar River from flowing into Shaljir. Consequently, Josarian was ordering him to release the river to Baran's control so that
someone
could starve the city of water and help the rebels begin their siege on the nation's capital.

Since the Idalar River represented the Society's single greatest source of power, and since whoever controlled it was traditionally the most prominent and powerful waterlord of the Society, Kiloran was—to say the least—reluctant to follow orders. He and Josarian had been fighting ever since his arrival, and they were still no closer to a solution. Josarian insisted Kiloran give up either the mines or the river, and Kiloran emphatically refused.

"We're getting nowhere," Elelar informed Tansen when he arrived from the east that afternoon, two days after her own arrival. "At this rate, Commander Koroll will
retire
before the Silerian rebels attack Sileria's capital city."

She had only seen Tansen once since the events at Darshon. The story of Josarian's rebirth from Dar's womb seemed so wildly improbable, so typical of
shallah
legends and tales, that she wouldn't have believed it if Tansen himself hadn't told her about it. She sensed that his description of that day did it no justice and that there was a great deal which he kept to himself. There was a new scar on his forehead and a fading burn mark on his arm that he wouldn't discuss. The look in his eyes suggested that he, too, had met the goddess in his own way.

Indeed... Tansen, Josarian, and Mirabar were all different after Darshon. Strangely, Josarian was the least altered of the three of them. He was more focused, more purposeful, and more intent than he had been when she'd first met him. Unfortunately, he was also more unyielding, uncompromising, and uncooperative. He could get away with it because, despite the reservations that some people might have about the events at Darshon, the
shallaheen
, lowlanders, Guardians, Sisters,
zanareen
, and sea-born folk now all believed wholeheartedly that he was the Firebringer, and they followed his orders without question or pause. A considerable number of
toreni
, merchants, and city-dwellers were convinced, too. And Najdan's manner suggested that even some assassins believed it. It gave Josarian a power which he now wielded ruthlessly against the waterlords. They didn't like it, but—so far—they bowed to his wishes.

All except Kiloran, that is.

Mirabar, the only person whose opinion ever seemed to carry much weight with Kiloran, had been unable to convince him to follow Josarian's orders. She had to leave Britar today to return to her circle of companions in time to prepare for the Guardians' sacred rites welcoming in the New Year. Elelar, who had neglected her religious observances for years, had only a sketchy idea of what this entailed, but she gathered it was a lengthy process for the Guardians and one which they considered extremely important. Consequently, after one last unsuccessful attempt to sway Kiloran, Mirabar stayed at Britar only long enough to ask Tansen for news of Cheylan, who was once again in the east, as was Josarian's brother-in-law.

The changes in Mirabar since Darshon were readily apparent to Elelar. Mirabar had still been a girl the last time Elelar saw her; now she was a woman. To one who had crossed that threshold herself, the differences were unmistakable though hard to define. Confidence, maturity, grace, self-assurance... Whatever it was, it was there. Nor was Elelar the only one who noticed the difference, she realized. Tansen's gaze no longer dismissed or avoided Mirabar the way it once had; and his voice, when he spoke to her, was both more intimate and more courteous than it had been in former days.

However, Elelar couldn't pretend to like the sharp-tongued Guardian any more than she ever had. After one particularly noisy encounter between Kiloran and Mirabar, Elelar had been sharply rebuffed by the other woman when she suggested that persuasion worked better than confrontation when a woman dealt with a powerful man. No, Elelar was not sorry to see Mirabar leave Britar, accompanied by four sturdy
shallaheen
and Najdan the assassin. And if Tansen was sorry to see her go, he kept it to himself.

The changes in Tansen were harder to discern, but Elelar had known him longer than most people, if not necessarily better. His gaze strayed often to where Darshon rose through the clouds, though the expression on his face suggested he was daring the goddess, rather than communing with her. He seemed paradoxically more serene yet more troubled than before, and his manner silenced any questions that Elelar tried to pose about what had happened to him on Darshon. He wasn't curt or rude when she broached the subject, just... so distant as to be unreachable.

In any event, it was clear that the events on Mount Darshon had drawn Tansen, Mirabar, and Josarian even closer together. However, the coming of the Firebringer didn't have a positive effect on all of Josarian's relationships. The waterlords resented his growing power, and Kiloran was openly hostile and suspicious. And then there was Zimran, who felt alienated by Josarian's relationship with Tansen, eclipsed by his cousin's glory, and left out of the extraordinary events sweeping across Sileria.

Elelar understood by now why Josarian assigned only menial tasks to his cousin, despite his personal affection for him: Zimran's heart was not in the rebellion, not even now. Indeed, Zimran's heart was invested in very little besides Zimran... though Elelar knew he believed he was in love with her. So she kept her distance from him these days, since she had no intention of taking him as a lover. Yes, she could be ruthless; she had never denied that. But she wasn't wantonly cruel. Elelar had no wish to encourage a man she didn't want, need, or intend to accept.