The White Dragon (29 page)

When he confessed this to her, Cheylan didn't tell her why his own grandfather had sworn a bloodvow against him and tried hard to see it fulfilled. And she had been too stunned to ask. Mirabar hadn't known that a Guardian, least of all one with Cheylan's Dar-blessed eyes, could be so closely linked by blood to a waterlord.

"What is Verlon's message?" she asked.

"He knows Kiloran has control of Cavasar and the mines of Alizar. He knows that either Kiloran or Baran will ultimately gain full control of the Idalar River and, through it, will control Shaljir once the Valdani surrender."

"So he wants Liron," Mirabar guessed. The great city of the east, so close to the sacred rainbow chalk cliffs where Dar's fiery consort had dwelled eons ago before falling into the sea, had been the first of Sileria's cities to fall to the rebels.
 

"Verlon claims it is his due, after all he contributed to the rebellion in the east."
 

"Why does he need Josarian's permission? Kiloran didn't—"

"The Lironi," Cheylan said, naming one of the largest and most powerful clans in all of Sileria, "have decided, in the wake of the Valdani evacuation of eastern Sileria, that they like not having any masters."

"They're fighting Verlon for control of the city?" Mirabar breathed, scarcely daring to believe it could be so.

"Yes. For control of the whole district, in fact."

"What are the eastern
toreni
doing?"

"Mostly trying to protect theirs lands," Cheylan said dryly.

"Have any of them sided with the Lironi?"

"Some." He added, "Not my family, but a few."

She stepped forward and gripped Cheylan's arm, which was firm beneath the fine fabric of his tunic. "The Lironi are really fighting the Society in the east?"

"Yes." She could tell Cheylan was puzzled by her growing excitement as he said, "Verlon supposes that Josarian doesn't want... didn't want civil war. He sent me to ask Josarian to, er, make the Lironi see reason."

"In other words," she said, "on the eve of the siege of Shaljir, when Josarian would need the entire nation behind him, Verlon meant to make the city of Liron the price he would demand in exchange for supporting Josarian."

"Yes," said Cheylan. "But the question now, I gather, is whether or not there will even be a siege of Shaljir. And if there is, who will lead it?"

"Tansen, of course," Mirabar said.

The silence was long and awkward.
 

"So... this thing you've told me about
Torena
Elelar," he said at last. "None of it is common knowledge?"

"Even Josarian's death isn't common knowledge yet."

"Word will spread quickly."

"Yes. But the part about Elelar..." Mirabar paused, lost in thought. "The Lironi are fighting Verlon."

"What does that have to do with the
torena's
betray—"

"It has to do with Kiloran," she said.
 

"I don't understand."

"Damn Elelar," Mirabar said with bitter vehemence. "
Damn
her. She wins again."

"She does?"

"Don't you see? We can't expose her. We can kill her, but we can't expose her." Mirabar looked up at the glowing moons. "If we're to convince people to fight Kiloran—to fight the Society—then we've got to make sure they know he killed the Firebringer. We can't... complicate things by telling people about the Alliance's secrets and the
torena
's betrayal. Revealing the whole truth would just incite bloodfeuds, chaos, and a perfect opportunity for the Society to seize power the moment the Valdani leave."

"Do you really think people can be convinced to fight the Society?"

"Don't you? You just told me that the Lironi already
are
fighting them."

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Cheylan paused for a moment, then said, "So perhaps we..." He took her hand again and raised it to his lips. "We can be full of hope."

She felt the damp warmth of his mouth against her skin. She felt the tingle along her senses that his presence created.

No, not you
, she realized sadly.

In her inexperience, in her ignorance of men, she had previously thought the tumult of her senses whenever she was with Cheylan might be the sparks of love. Tonight, though, she knew better. The power of his sorcery was what made the air quiver around her and created the hot and cold confusion inside her. And the touch of his lips, the touch of his skin... Well, it was certainly pleasing, but it was not the touch of the man who had, without realizing it, taught her the pain of love rather than the pleasure of mere desire.

Damn Tansen
.

"Are you all right?" Cheylan asked.

"I'm... just tired," she lied.

Damn Elelar
.

"You've been through a lot."

"Yes," she agreed. "And now there is so much more to come."

May they both burn like the Fires of Dar for all eternity.

Najdan was not usually credulous of common gossip, but he tended to believe the rumor that Sister Velikar had been
born
old and mean. Not even among the assassins of the Honored Society had he ever known such a foul temper. And learning of the Firebringer's death this evening had only made her nastier. She had, as improbable as such a gentle emotion seemed in Velikar, been fond of Josarian.

When Mirabar and Cheylan abandoned Najdan to this woman's sour company, he was tempted to assassinate her just so he could enjoy the rest of his meal in peace. However, he didn't kill women, and violence on Sanctuary grounds was forbidden to all Silerians. If Kiloran himself walked through that door right now, they'd have to tolerate each other's company in peace.

One of Velikar's few virtues was that she was a good cook, and he was glad of that. Learning that Tansen had not killed
Torena
Elelar shah Hasnari, as vowed, may have ruined the
sirana's
appetite, but not his.

Young women were hard to understand, and Mirabar was more complicated than most. Najdan wished that Haydar were here to advise him. He wondered briefly how he could find the time and safe means to bring Haydar here from Sister Basimar's Sanctuary, but then he dismissed the idea; it was doubtful they'd be here for long, anyhow. Tansen knew he had to move quickly against the Society. And unless she had lost all her wits since sunrise, the
sirana
knew it, too.

But young women could, Najdan was starting to realize, make bewildering decisions based on incomprehensible motives.

He had previously suspected and now felt convinced that Mirabar's interest in Tansen was not based solely on the visions which had led her to him and kept them linked. He also believed that the
shatai
returned this more personal interest, albeit in a confused and sadly blundering way.

The old ways were the best ways, Najdan reflected. He pushed aside the heavily-beaded
jashar
that covered Velikar's doorway, and he stood there to enjoy the night air and escape the Sister's unpleasant grumbling. He had first seen Haydar in a marketplace more than fifteen years ago. He wanted her, he gave her father fifteen sheep and several bolts of imported Kintish silk as a bride-price for her, and so she became his. And—after a period of mutual adjustment during which she kept threatening to run away and join the Sisterhood—they had been content together ever since. He had never married her, since he was unwilling to mouth the pledges to Dar that were required before cutting open a palm with the marriage knife, but he was devoted to Haydar and had no doubts of her devotion to him.

However, while Najdan's life might be easier if Sileria's rebel leaders could sort out their affairs of the heart as sensibly as he had done, he didn't really envision Tansen collecting sheep for a bride-price—or Mirabar feeling honored by such an effort. And if the
shatai
simply tried to take her home with him, as men sometimes did upon choosing a woman whom they couldn't afford, then Najdan would be obliged to kill him.

Or die trying anyhow.

The carnage Najdan had seen on the path to Dalishar today only confirmed what he'd realized long ago. He was glad he had never had the opportunity to claim Kiloran's bloodvow against Tansen. Anything was always possible in combat, of course, but he knew that it would be the wildest stroke of luck for him to survive attacking the
shatai
.

In any event, Tansen had no home to carry Mirabar off to, and after their argument today about his failure to execute the
torena
, Mirabar would probably incinerate him if he tried, anyhow. No one knew better than Najdan that the
sirana
was far from helpless. She had captured, imprisoned, and terrorized him upon their first meeting, and survived his two attempts to kill her. She was unlikely ever to need him to defend her honor, though it was, of course, his duty to do so.

That was why he now hovered in Velikar's doorway and kept an eye on Mirabar and Cheylan, who were speaking together at the edge of Sanctuary grounds. Respectable young women did not visit alone with men in the dark, and Najdan realized he had too often been negligent in this respect. It was sometimes easy to forget that the
sirana
was, after all, a marriageable young woman—albeit a very unusual one—and therefore as vulnerable to her own inexperienced judgment as she was to the presumptuous attentions of disrespectful young men.

Young men such as Cheylan. Whom Najdan had never liked.

Just because Tansen, for all his worldly experience, evidently had no idea how to present his honorable intentions—and they had
better
be honorable—to a woman, that was no reason for Mirabar to compromise herself with another man. True, the
shatai
was drawn to
Torena
Elelar, and that may well be why he had spared her; but sparing a woman was hardly dishonorable. Moreover, the
torena
was married, which certainly settled the question of which woman Tansen would choose. Najdan felt fairly certain that the
shatai
would not murder another man just to have his wife.
 

However, the
sirana
had become enraged beyond reason today. Threatening to set Najdan against Tansen. Embarrassing the
shatai
in front of Lann and the sea-born boy. Wishing aloud that Kiloran's assassins would succeed in killing him next time. Najdan particularly didn't like that; such wishes could well be powerful curses, he suspected, when uttered by such a capable sorceress.

Mirabar's hot-tempered inexperience and Tansen's ill-advised neglect of her feelings could cost them both—and everyone around them—a lot more than a broken heart. It was a woman's right, of course, to spurn a man, even after her parents had agreed to the bride-price. But Mirabar didn't have the luxury of abandoning her duty to Sileria because a man had hurt and angered her. Regardless of her personal feelings, she belonged at the caves of Dalishar tonight, conferring with the man who must lead Sileria's rebels now that Josarian was dead—not dallying in Sanctuary with Cheylan.

She knew it, too. If she didn't come to her senses by morning, Najdan would explain it clearly to her, but he didn't anticipate this would be necessary. He had never known her to shirk her duty, no matter how unpleasant. He disapproved of her behavior today, but young women were difficult to understand and so he was trying to be tolerant. Until sunrise, anyhow.

It was unfortunate that Cheylan happened to be here now. The aristocratic Guardian had followed his orders loyally throughout the rebellion, acting as a liaison between the Guardians and the Society, and between eastern and western Sileria. Despite this respectable behavior, though, Najdan found Cheylan's arrogant manners unpleasant and his reticence more suspect than modest.
 

So now, under the glowing light of the twin moons, Najdan scowled when he thought he saw Mirabar permit Cheylan to kiss her hand. Fortunately, she seemed disinclined to permit additional liberties, particularly of the kind she had allowed Cheylan in the past. Najdan had once come upon the two of them locked in a passionate embrace. He had been too stunned at the time to warn Cheylan about the consequences of such actions.