The White Dragon (35 page)

"Is that why the Valdani want it?"

Armian grimaced. "They want it because it is their nature to want whatever is not already theirs." He clapped Tansen on the back and said, "Let's go. If we move fast, we can make Illan by sunset. Doesn't a bed sound good for a change?"

"Yes, father."

"And after that, Shaljir."

The exotic maze of Shaljir's streets and the sparkling glory of its many fountains faded from Tansen's mind as he and Armian were shown into the home of
Toren
Gaborian shah Hasnari. Armian said that the
toren
was the leader of the Alliance in Sileria and could take him to Kiloran. Tansen had never heard of the Hasnari, but this palatial house with its luxuriant furnishings left him in no doubt of their wealth and status.
 

"I've never seen anything like this," he whispered to Armian, who had led him here through a long afternoon of asking throughout Shaljir where the
toren
lived. The city-dwellers of Shaljir were not as reticent as
shallaheen
, but the city was so enormous that, even so, finding this house had taken some time.

"It's impressive," Armian agreed. "But even here, you can see what it means to be ruled by the Valdani." He gestured to a large, discolored square on the floor. When Armian saw that Tansen didn't understand its significance, he explained, "They've been selling things—there was once a rug there—to pay their taxes."

"We had to." Startled, Tansen whirled around to face a young woman who spoke from the doorway. "The Outlookers beggared us with their demands for grain from our estates last year, and then the Society depleted our savings by abducting my grandfather." She arched her brows. "The ransom was very high."

The abduction would have occurred during the long rains, of course, when the Society had trouble exacting tribute from the populace. It was the one time of year when water was so plentiful in Sileria, the rivers so fast-flowing and abundant, that even the waterlords couldn't keep Sileria thirsty with their power. Abducting
toreni
and wealthy merchants was an old custom, a secondary source of income for the Society.

"And you did not apply to Kiloran for help?" Armian asked.

Tansen supposed that if these people could help Armian find Kiloran, then they must be under his protection.

The young woman studied Armian with obvious interest as she replied, "We did. However, the captor was an enemy of his who would not listen to reason."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter now. He's dead." She added significantly, "He was an enemy of Kiloran's, you see."

Tansen stood transfixed, scarcely hearing her words. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Long-lashed dark eyes commanded a face of intelligent beauty which was framed by elaborately styled black hair. Her silken clothes were so much finer than those of any
shallah
woman—and noticeably less modest. He could see the shape of her breasts and her waist under its clinging fabric, and her pantaloons tapered down to hug her trim ankles like a lover.

Heat flooded him, making his body alert and his wits dull. Her glance fluttered over him, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had better clothes, wished he were taller, broader, older. He could tell that several years separated them, and her gaze dismissed him as a mere boy before she returned her attention to Armian. He saw Armian take her hand, a liberty that few respectable
shallah
girls would permit upon meeting a strange man. But the
toreni
, Tansen knew, were different. Without introducing himself, Armian asked to see Gaborian.

"Since the abduction, my grandfather is frequently too unwell to receive visitors," she said. "I am Elelar mar Odilan shah Hasnari, and I run this household now."

Armian let his surprise show on his face. Even Tansen knew that, though of marriageable age, she was very young to run such a large household. He wondered what his father would do now, but the girl surprised them again.

"And you," she said, "must be Armian." She smiled at Armian's wary expression and added, "The Alliance has been awaiting you, though we feared you might be dead."

They slept in one of the vast house's bedchambers that night. The following morning, Gaborian was feeling strong enough to meet them briefly. It was the only time Tansen ever saw the dying old aristocrat. Later in the day, the young
torena
advised them that she had set in motion the slow process of contacting Kiloran to arrange a meeting.
 

She added, "So perhaps you should tell me why you're here."

"I've come home," Armian replied simply.

"Why?" She sounded a little impatient.

"To drive the Valdani out of Sileria,
torena
. Why else?"

"I know what the
shallaheen
say about you, but I'm not a credulous peasant, and neither is Kiloran." The
torena
ignored Tansen, who gaped at her, shocked by such disrespect. "Do you actually have a plan?"

Armian grinned. "It is a plan, young
torena
, which should please even you."

"Well?" she prodded.
 

"When I meet Kiloran, then I will speak." He shook his head when she started to protest. "I've already been betrayed once on this quest,
torena
, so I think it best to keep the details of my plans to myself for now. Until I meet Kiloran, all you need to know is that the Moorlanders propose... an alliance." He smiled beguilingly at her. Tansen would have been jealous had the
torena
responded in kind, but she only looked annoyed.

However, she was born to centuries of practiced courtesy, so she said, "And how may we amuse you in Shaljir until such time as we receive a message from Kiloran?"

"Ah,
torena
." Armian smiled again. "You will find that I'm really very easy to amuse."

An assassin and a
shallah
boy staying as guests of a
toren
were bound to arouse interest if discovered, and that was the last thing they wanted. So, Elelar informed them, Gaborian advised her to move their guests to a safe inn in the oldest part of the city. The public house squatted deep in a maze of narrow, tangled streets that the wind never reached. It took days for Tansen to get used to the ancient odors and encroaching buildings.

However, although he'd have liked to see more of the beautiful young
torena
, he felt more at ease in the humble inn than he had in her grand home. And Elelar did meet with them several times. Meanwhile, Tansen became friendly with the chubby, good-natured innkeeper who, he soon learned, was also part of this Alliance.

The Alliance was a secret organization composed of people from many walks of Silerian life:
toreni
, merchants, Sisters, city-dwellers, and even certain members of the Honored Society—most notably, Kiloran himself. There were no
shallaheen
in this Alliance ("they're wild, violent, and distrustful of everyone who isn't a
shallah
," said the
torena
), and also no
zanareen
("all mad") or Guardians ("not as long as the Society are in the Alliance"). However, there were many
roshaheen
. Individuals from several tribes of the Moorlands and from more than a dozen of the Kintish Kingdoms were involved in the Alliance.

"Freedom from the Valdani," she explained to Tansen, "is our purpose, the goal we all work for."

Her grandfather, Gaborian, had founded the Alliance. Elelar had been raised to participate in the work of the Alliance, and, though still young, she'd taken over many heavy responsibilities since Gaborian had become ill.
 

It was a world Tansen had never imagined before, having known only the daily struggle of a humble mountain peasant's existence. Until finding Armian lying on the beach that first night, he had never even considered the possibility of freedom from the Valdani. Since then, he had believed Armian alone would somehow achieve it, with Dar's help. Now he realized that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people believed in it, regardless of Armian. People had been working for it since before he was born.

"So why haven't you accomplished it in all these years?" he asked.

Elelar's indignation over this simple question seemed unreasonable. After all, she had just admitted that Gaborian had been trying to get rid of the Valdani for many years.

Armian's theory, related privately to Tansen at the inn, was that the members of the Alliance could scheme and plot and spy all they liked, but nothing could replace action—and they seemed sadly inadequate at that.

"But now you are here," Tansen said.

"Now I'm here," Armian agreed. "And we will have action. I guarantee it."

Armian also told him what he wouldn't tell Elelar: the details of the Moorlanders' proposal. Tansen was his son, after all. Armian trusted him.

"Control of Sileria is essential for control of the Middle Sea," Armian said. "And control of the Middle Sea is essential for control of a mainland empire the size of Valdania—especially if the Valdani want to keep extending their borders, which seems to be the case.

"The free Moorlanders know this. Valdania breaks treaty after treaty with them, and some of them have finally started to realize that the Valdani won't rest until they've swallowed the Moorlands whole, down to the very last tribe."

A keystone of the Moorlanders' plan to stop the Valdani advance, therefore, was to destroy their power in Sileria. They wanted to unite with the only organized force in the island nation, the only faction which had ever made the Valdani bleed: the Honored Society. Even in the Moorlands, they had heard of Kiloran and knew that he was the waterlord best able to speak on behalf of the Society.
 

The free tribes had an obvious envoy among them, the only person in all of the Moorlands whom Kiloran was likely to trust. The exiled Silerian assassin who lived among them even had the honor of being the son of Harlon, the waterlord whom the Moorlanders remembered for his fabled opposition to the Empire.