Authors: Laura Resnick
But the prayers were probably useless, as was the remorse, for she had betrayed Dar's Chosen One. The destroyer goddess forgave no slight, after all, and what Elelar had done was considerably worse than neglecting her devotions or denying offerings to Dar. Her punishment for betraying the Firebringer would surely be swift and terrible.
It was bewildering to remember how pragmatic, how necessary, the decision had seemed at the time. The Valdani demanded Josarian's death in exchange for their final withdrawal from Sileria, for the surrender of Shaljir. Elelar's cohort
Toren
Varian reminded her that the
zanar
prophecies never said
how
the Firebringer would drive the foreign invaders out of Sileria. So, Varian suggested, perhaps he was destined to do so as a sacrificial offering rather than as a warrior. Josarian himself knew that the prophecies said nothing of his destiny beyond ridding Sileria of the Valdani; his ultimate future was as uncertain as any man's. And he was locked in a deadly bloodfeud with Kiloran, a wizard so invincible that few doubted he could destroy even the Firebringer. Kiloran wanted Josarian dead, and the Valdani wanted Josarian dead... and Elelar had believed that his death was the way to free Sileria.
A hot wave of shame washed over her every time she thought of it. Kiloran had used her. Even worse, she had let him. She had been so obsessed with her lifelong goal, so focused on her hatred of the Valdani, that she had let Kiloran make her his tool in Josarian's destruction, every bit as much as Zimran had been Elelar's tool.
The
shallaheen
had a word for someone like her:
sriliah
. It was the worst thing one Silerian could call another. Worse than liar, thief, cuckold, coward, murderer, or whore:
traitor
. Among Silerians, betrayal was the very worst crime a person could commit. The irony of their culture, the tragedy of their history, was that it was also perhaps their most common crime against one another. And it was always punished with blood vengeance.
Who will punish me?
She knew now that it would never be Tansen. Not because he loved her. Even if he had once loved her, even if he still could, she knew he would never want the woman who had betrayed his bloodbrother.
She knew that Tansen had still wanted her when he had returned to Sileria after his nine years in exile. Elelar had seen it in his eyes, had felt it in the sharp tension that ran through him like pain when she touched him. She had smelled desire on his skin more than once and had believed he could be hers if she chose. But she always chose duty, and Tansen always chose loyalty to Josarian.
Elelar had betrayed Tansen to Kiloran years ago for murdering Armian. She had sacrificed Tansen's young life to protect the Alliance, and yet he had continued to want her. Nine years in exile, nine years of wandering foreign lands and knowing other women, and yet he was not indifferent to her upon his return to Sileria. If Tansen had not precisely forgiven her, he had nonetheless never forgotten her.
However, while a man of honor might overlook a woman's sins against him, if he desired her enough, he could never ignore what she had done to his brother or his nation. Elelar's betrayal of Josarian had damaged more than Tansen's dreams; it had stained his honor and bloodied his heart. Tansen had introduced his bloodbrother to Elelar and had brought the mountain rebel into association with the Alliance. If not for Tansen, Josarian and Zimran would never even have known Elelar, let alone been vulnerable to her.
This was Sileria, where spilled blood called for vengeance. Josarian had killed Kiloran's only son, Srijan, in vengeance for betrayal. That act had incited Josarian's bloodfeud with Kiloran, had splintered the rebellion, and had turned most of the Society into his enemies overnight. Yet even Elelar, who had tried to stop Josarian from killing Srijan, understood why he had done it: Kiloran's offense against him must be avenged, swiftly and ruthlessly, or the
shallaheen
would never again respect and follow Josarian, even though he was the Firebringer.
No matter how worldly Tansen had become, he had been born and raised a
shallah
, so Elelar knew that his honor now depended on avenging his brother. He had killed Zimran and he certainly intended to kill Kiloran, but he hadn't taken his vengeance against Elelar. She knew the
shallah
in him would hereafter see his dishonor every time he looked at her. And no matter how strong he was, he had loved Josarian and was devastated by his death. He would be reminded of this pain every time he saw her.
Nor could he ever forgive her betrayal of Sileria, even knowing that she did it in ignorance. Tansen had loved Armian and had killed him even so, committing an unforgivable sin by murdering a bloodpact relative and offending Dar by slaying the man he thought was the Firebringer, all to save their nation from the Society. Now, by betraying Josarian, Elelar had paved the way for Kiloran to seize power and, a thousand years after Marjan first envisioned it, condemn Sileria to the absolute rule of the Society.
Tansen should have killed me.
It was she, after all, who had convinced Zimran, Josarian's beloved cousin, to betray him. Zimran had possessed many of the virtues most prized among the
shallaheen
—reckless courage, wily shrewdness, and blood loyalty—but none of the virtues needed by a rebel in a war-torn land, none of the virtues Josarian needed in his followers. Zimran had lacked vision, imagination, or dreams. He was too selfish to be a leader, too cynical to believe in freedom, too jealous to share Josarian with others, and too short-sighted to understand that his boyhood playmate was no longer the simple mountain peasant he had always known. In the midst of world-changing events and fire-born prophecy, Zimran had stubbornly continued to long for nothing more glorious than a return to the simple life of a
shallah
smuggler in Valdani-occupied Sileria.
Elelar had seduced Zimran, letting him believe he had seduced her. Although Tansen hid his pain and his jealousy behind the schooled mask of a
shatai
, Elelar sensed how he hated her relationship with Zimran. It was his own fault, she'd told herself more than once. Had Tansen been willing, as Zimran ultimately was, to switch his loyalty from Josarian to Elelar, then he could have been her lover. But Tansen always chose loyalty to Josarian.
She used Zimran as a conduit to Josarian when the Firebringer quarreled with the Society and turned his back on the Alliance. And she used him as her weapon against Josarian in the end, convincing Zimran to betray Josarian to the Valdani—Zimran, who had once daily risked his life to protect Josarian from them, back in the days when Josarian had been merely an outlaw on the run, rather than a rebel leader or the Firebringer.
It was happenstance that Elelar's plan failed, that Tansen discovered the plot, executed Zimran, and stopped the Valdani. Nonetheless, the Firebringer was dead, and she doubted Kiloran would have known enough about Josarian's movements to kill him that fateful night if Elelar had not betrayed him to Advisor Kaynall.
Tansen was right. She was such a fool. How could she never have suspected that Kiloran was behind the secret treaty all along? Searlon himself, Kiloran's most favored assassin, had escorted Elelar to the meeting between the Alliance and Advisor Kaynall! Yet she had never guessed. Her hatred for the Valdani and all they had done to Sileria had made her blind to the terrible danger of her own allies. What had Josarian himself often said?
I can take care of my enemies, but Dar shield me from my friends
. She should have listened. He was much wiser than she had ever realized.
But Elelar had been so certain that she knew better than an illiterate mountain peasant, even one chosen by Dar. She saw the arrogance that overcame Josarian after his transformation at Darshon and was afraid. She was so accustomed to fearing the power of the Society that she had wanted the Firebringer himself to placate them rather than challenge them. She was so terrified that the Valdani, the only enemies she knew how to hate, would take advantage of the division among the Silerian rebels that she had agreed to eliminate...
Dar, how could I have done it? What madness was in my mind
?
Her own actions may have destroyed the only dream she had ever lived for: freedom in Sileria.
Whatever Dar did to her now, it couldn't be punishment enough. Elelar, who did not believe in forgiveness, would never seek salvation for helping Kiloran destroy Josarian. But she knew that Tansen had let her live because he counted on her to accomplish something that mattered much more than her life or death: She must ensure that the Valdani honored their treaty and withdrew from Sileria. Then she must help ensure that the Society did not dominate Sileria in their wake. Once that was done, she could at least die with honor. Regardless of her terrible sin against Dar, her life's work would be fulfilled and her dream realized. Her people—Dar's people—would finally be free.
Tansen, who had been the one to teach Josarian to think like a leader, knew this. He had held a sword to Elelar's throat, burning with vengeance, craving her blood, yet he had let her live. With the strength of will that had driven him to kill the bloodfather he loved, he spared the woman who had betrayed his brother—and sent her to Shaljir to do her duty.
Unfortunately, he was right about something else, too: She had to seek Searlon's help. The thought of facing the assassin again galled her. Searlon had duped her and used her. He had made her not only a traitor, but also a fool. And he had done it all on behalf of his master. Elelar had made the fatal mistake of underestimating Kiloran and the inexcusable blunder of taking Searlon at face value. Now she trembled with shame and rage when she thought of seeking Searlon's help, but she knew she must.
Freedom from the Valdani was her life's work. Freedom from the Society was Tansen's. She must earn the life he had granted her at swordpoint by helping him defeat them both.
The secret treaty with the Valdani called for the Alliance to bring Josarian's body, or at least indisputable proof of the Firebringer's death, to Advisor Kaynall. Some sort of trophy, Elelar supposed, for the Outlookers to parade through the streets of Valda, the great city which was noisy with horrified gossip about the mountain rebel's crimes against the Valdani in Sileria. But Josarian's death in the magical jaws of the White Dragon left no evidence whatsoever. Fortunately, an Outlooker prisoner had witnessed the event. Tansen had released him and sent him back to Shaljir to report Josarian's death to Kaynall. Nonetheless, Sileria couldn't rely on one scared Outlooker to convince the Imperial Advisor that Josarian was truly dead and the Valdani should honor their treaty.
Tansen had learned from the Outlooker prisoner that Searlon was in Shaljir with Advisor Kaynall. The assassin was supposed to identify Josarian's body when the Outlookers brought it back from the ambush that Zimran led his cousin into. Since there was no body now, Tansen had ordered Elelar to get Searlon to help her convince Kaynall that Josarian was indeed dead and the secret treaty must now be honored. The rebels had one thing left in common with the Society, after all: They all still wanted the Valdani to surrender and withdraw from Sileria.
Elelar would do whatever she had to. Once again, she chose duty—and did not shrink from its dictates.
"
Torena."
Derlen, a member of her household, interrupted her thoughts.
"Yes?" she replied.
"We are next at the gate,
torena
."
Elelar looked around in the golden glow of early evening and realized this was his polite way of suggesting that she urge her mount forward. She did so, then ensured that the woven cords of her headdress modestly concealed her face from the Outlookers at the gate. They would not be able to interpret the way its knotted, braided strands and shiny aquamarine beads identified her name, family, and rank, but even Outlookers knew that such an elaborate headdress signified she was a
torena.
The headdress she wore today was relatively new, having been made recently by her personal maid, Faradar, to replace the one Elelar had lost here, at the Lion's Gate, when she'd been arrested months ago for spying.
Inside the gatehouse, Imperial Advisor Borell had raped her while the guards outside listened to her painful humiliation. It was here that the servants escorting her that day had died—except for Faradar, who had managed to escape to the mountains to alert the rebels. It was here that Elelar had been placed in chains and hauled off to prison to await execution.
It was not a memory she cared to dwell on. Her stomach churned now as she dismounted and identified herself to the Outlookers manning the Lion's Gate. She saw by their expressions that they had heard her name before. Well, her arrest hadn't exactly been secret. And after Tansen and Zimran had succeeded in their insanely dangerous rescue of her and she had escaped the city, the Valdani had hunted her far and wide.
Now that two Outlookers unsheathed their swords and ordered her to surrender, she realized that news of her pardon had not been nearly as widespread as news of her arrest and her escape. However, since her pardon was a minor addition she had made to the Alliance's entirely secret treaty with Kaynall, this was hardly surprising. Maintaining her dignity at the point of the Outlookers' short Valdani swords, Elelar ordered Derlen to present her pardon, an official document written in Valdan and signed by Imperial Advisor Kaynall himself.