The White Dragon (42 page)

"You're a drylander, they won't care what you—" Zarien clapped a hand over his mouth as he realized what he had said.

"Ah, you see?" Tansen grinned. "Even you aren't as sure as you pretend to be."

Stay in the current you have found.

"I only meant—"

"I have to go," Tansen said. "But we'll meet again soon, Zarien. I promise."

"Yes, Tansen."

He came to his decision the moment Tansen turned away from him. He intended no disrespect, he truly didn't. But the dictates of a goddess must come before those of a man.

Follow him until you cannot.

Chapter Sixteen

It takes only three things to become a waterlord:
 

a great talent, a terrible thirst,
 

and a heart of stone.

      
      
      
      
      
      
—Kiloran

He was the greatest waterlord in all of Sileria.

He had dominated a vast territory of this island, the jewel of the Middle Sea, for more than thirty years, rising to preeminence in the Honored Society during the bloody feuding and chaos which had followed Harlon's death nearly forty years ago. Now an old man, he continued to hone and increase his power over water at an age when most other waterlords had been dead for years. Some said he was not only the greatest waterlord in Sileria, but the greatest since Marjan himself, the very first waterlord; yes, perhaps even the greatest waterlord who had ever lived.

It was true, Kiloran knew. He was the best.

Not because he had more talent. If truth be known, he privately believed he had less talent than Harlon had had, and he secretly suspected that Baran was the most talented water wizard he'd ever seen. But they were ruled by their emotions. Harlon had invariably acted without thought, driven by his hot temper and blood-thirsty nature. And Baran, whose sanity was frequently questioned... Oh, yes, Kiloran knew what ruled Baran: heartsick longing, hatred, and the lust for vengeance.

He should thank me. Hating me gave him the will to develop his talent.

Nor was Kiloran the best because he was the cruelest or most ruthless. Cruelty was merely a weapon to Kiloran, ruthlessness an exercise in common sense. Whereas cruelty was a passion for some of them—Verlon, for example—and ruthlessness a pleasure in which they reveled. In fact, Verlon was even older than Kiloran, but did that fool have power and influence to match Kiloran's? No, of course not.
 

The lesser waterlords in Sileria, of which there were nearly one hundred, were mostly younger, less experienced, and less talented than Kiloran. This was irrelevant; young men eventually grew older and gained experience, after all, and Kiloran had already proven that talent was merely one factor in the struggle for ultimate power.

What mattered was that Kiloran had yet to see anyone among the lesser waterlords who possessed the one thing which could threaten him, the one quality that set him apart from the others: the cold intelligence which had ensured his ascendancy in the face of overwhelming odds and opposition, a shrewd cunning that had kept him at the head of the Honored Society longer than most assassins had even been alive.

It was fortunate, he reflected, that Searlon had never shown even the slightest hint of a gift for water magic. As an assassin, he was invaluable—and unfailingly loyal. If he had ever shown promise as a waterlord, though, then there would have been trouble.
 

Armian had been the sort of ally Kiloran knew he could control. A talented, bold, educated, quick-thinking man of courage and decisive action, Armian had nonetheless been wild and emotional, prone to reckless violence, sensual appetites, and unthinking sentimentality. His ill-considered devotion to that quiet, serious, willful peasant boy, for example... Then again, a father's love was a common weakness, even a noble one. Kiloran himself had loved his son Srijan, despite the lad's many faults.
 

Ah, mistakes. They are so easily made. Especially when we love...

Yes, he could have handled Armian as an ally, as he had handled so many others, some of them even—as in the case of
Torena
Elelar—unwitting to the alliance. But Searlon... No, Searlon would have been too dangerous an apprentice to water magic, too ungovernable a waterlord. Kiloran would have had to exercise a little sensible ruthlessness and eliminate him, had he been so gifted. Searlon's intelligence, like Kiloran's, ruled his passions, governed his appetites, and kept his judgment clear.

This was the quality that made a man superior to others, as well as more dangerous than the rest. It was the quality which made Searlon a servant who inspired envy among the other waterlords and respect—not to mention healthy competition—among Kiloran's other assassins. And it was the quality that made Kiloran the greatest waterlord in Sileria.

Could any other waterlord have beaten the Firebringer? He thought not. Did the others imagine he did it with sheer talent? Did the rest of them believe that his craving for vengeance, after Josarian had murdered Srijan, was so strong it superceded Dar's divine power? Well, let them think it. It was not Kiloran's duty to set them straight, to explain how the world worked or to teach them how power was exercised most effectively.

When Josarian assumed the mantle of the Firebringer, Kiloran understood the danger in a way that none of the others did.
Power is much easier to withhold than it is to take away
, he had told Elelar when the rift began to develop between him and Josarian.
 

Unlike so many others, Kiloran knew the difference between someone who must be managed carefully and someone who must be eliminated. A lava-eyed peasant like Mirabar, gifted with prophecy and blessed with extraordinary fire sorcery, was very dangerous, of course; but she had been more valuable alive than dead. Besides, the girl was no leader, and half the
shallaheen
in Sileria would probably still go screaming into the night if they came upon her suddenly in the dark. A father-slaying
sriliah
like Tansen could be allowed to live for a little while longer, Kiloran had initially decided, if it meant ridding Sileria of the Valdani; so he had rescinded his bloodvow.

Even Josarian, a charismatic rebel leader, hadn't been a threat in the beginning. After all, the one thing everyone in Sileria had in common—the
only
thing—was that they all hated the Valdani and wanted them to leave. Josarian's gift was that he had been able to make everyone in Sileria willing to do anything—even work together—to achieve this goal.

However, after Josarian's transformation into a Dar-blessed demi-god issuing orders to the Society about how to manage its affairs, insisting on the waterlords' obedience to his rule, and increasingly supported in his intolerable interference by an ever-bolder population... That was when he became someone who must be eliminated as quickly and cleanly as possible.
 

The
zanar
prophecies might say nothing about the Firebringer's ultimate destiny after driving the foreign invaders out of Sileria, but Kiloran could certainly see into the future after Josarian survived jumping into the volcano at Darshon. The Firebringer would rule Sileria unopposed and grind the Society beneath the heels of his shoddy
shallah
boots.

Fire and water had competed for a thousand years in Sileria, eternal enemies. Kiloran had realized, when confronted with the Firebringer, that it was his destiny to end the struggle once and for all. Until Josarian, Dar had ignored the waterlords, leaving Her fire-blessed Guardians of the Otherworld to defend themselves as best they could against the Honored Society. But Josarian changed everything.

Had Armian been the Firebringer, as people once said, then the Society could have ruled Sileria in power and security for centuries. Of course, Armian himself had never believed it, having spent his whole life in foreign lands where Silerian beliefs were regarded with indifference. Kiloran, skeptical but interested in the possibilities, had seen no reason to press the issue at the time—since he'd had no idea that that pestilent brat Armian had adopted would murder him and thus effectively sever negotiations with the Moorlanders. The silence from the Moorlands ever since then indicated that Armian's death was taken as Kiloran's answer to their proposal, just as Tansen had planned.

Tansen, when only a boy, had outwitted him. So now that Kiloran had slain Josarian, he knew better than to underestimate Tansen. Both the
shatai
and the fire-eyed prophetess must be eliminated. There would be no contentment in Sileria while they lived; and Kiloran would ensure that the rest of the Society understood and accepted this. He must lead them, as he always had, as was his rightful place. And in the end, he would rule all of Sileria, as was his destiny.
 

After all, he had already triumphed over the Firebringer and proved himself greater than Dar's Chosen One.
 

Not that it had been easy. His first attempt to kill Josarian, by using Outlookers to ambush him in Sanctuary, had failed. The Valdani were such incompetent blunderers, Kiloran would never understand how they'd managed to conquer more than half the nations of Sirkara.

Nonetheless, only the weak wavered from a goal in the face of setbacks, so Kiloran had persisted. After Josarian killed Srijan, vengeance became as important as expedience. No one would respect a waterlord who did not protect his own and avenge his son. Failure to punish Josarian for Srijan's death would ensure Kiloran's own destruction. So he invested a great deal of time and effort in his next attempt, knowing he must succeed. It would have been best, of course, if the Valdani had seized Josarian in the ambush which
Torena
Elelar planned for him. But the Valdani failed again—this time because Najdan betrayed Kiloran.

Ah, mistakes. They are so easily made.

After twenty years of Najdan's loyal service, it never once occurred to Kiloran that the assassin would betray him. Najdan, of all men! Obedient, servile, unimaginative—totally faithful even to his own woman, let alone to the master who had always rewarded him richly for his service. Kiloran had actually been fond of Najdan, had valued him and let him know it, had trusted and relied on him. When he discovered that Haydar had disappeared, he was reluctant to accept the conclusion he would have drawn immediately, without hesitation, had it been anyone else: Najdan hid her—in some Sanctuary, no doubt—to protect her from Kiloran, because he was going to betray his master.

That was when Kiloran realized that his clean, clever plan to let the Alliance and the Valdani together kill Josarian would probably fail. That was when he knew he would have to do it himself—for he was half the White Dragon, as the water from which it grew was its other half.
 

It was a terrible risk, in more ways than one. Until he had done it, even he wasn't entirely sure that water magic could kill the Firebringer. The Society did not pay homage to Dar, but attacking Her Chosen One was undeniably dangerous. However, Kiloran couldn't delay any longer. Josarian was preparing to lay siege to Shaljir. Whether it surrendered quickly or held out for months, the fall of Shaljir would end the war in Sileria. And Josarian must not be alive on the day native rule was declared.

Power is much harder to take away than it is to withhold
.

Nonetheless, despite everything, Kiloran hadn't wanted to kill Josarian. He had desperately wanted the damned Valdani to kill Josarian, and he hated them bitterly for failing.

Being the murderer of the Firebringer could lessen his influence, he knew, if only temporarily. Most of Sileria had loved Josarian, would mourn his death, and would resent his executioner—even a father claiming vengeance. After all, Josarian had made sure that all of Sileria knew he'd killed Srijan in vengeance for Kiloran's betrayal.