The White Dragon (37 page)

"War against the masters of water and the assassins who kill for them," Tansen said.

"But..." Radyan studied him with a puzzled frown. "What about the Valdani? What about the siege of Shaljir?"

He gambled everything on Elelar now. The future of Sileria, the rest of his life, and the lives of Sileria's people. He counted on the
torena,
who had proven time and time again that she could talk men into doing the unthinkable and sacrificing the unimaginable.

"There will be no siege of Shaljir," Tansen announced.

"What?" Lann blurted.

"We move against the Society now," he said. "Immediately. Starting today."

"And Shaljir?" Yorin demanded, his sole eye glinting angrily. "We just leave it to the Valdani, to the
roshaheen
who've killed so many of us?"

"We can't afford to lose time and men taking Shaljir," Tansen said. "Not now. Not after what's happened. Kiloran's already killed Josarian, and he'll use every moment from now on to extend and consolidate his power. Do you want to die freeing Shaljir for
him
? Because if we expend our energy now on the siege of Shaljir, this nation
will
belong to him. We'll be giving it to him."

"But if we leave the Valdani in Shaljir..." Galian shrugged, his two
yahr
clicking lightly against each other in his
jashar
as he did so.

"The Alliance has been deep in negotiations with the Valdani." That much, at least, was true. "Kaynall is on the verge of surrendering Shaljir. And since the Alliance includes members of the Society, I've made arrangements for Searlon to help
Torena
Elelar convince Advisor Kaynall to abandon Sileria at last."

"Searlon?" Pyron asked incredulously.

"Yes," Tansen confirmed. "He will speak on behalf of Kiloran. We are all still agreed that we want our mutual enemies out of our country."

But this was Sileria, so the enemies of their enemies weren't necessarily their friends. There was always enough hatred to go around in Sileria.

"Ahhh." Radyan thought it over. "In other words, you mean to let the Society free Shaljir for
us
?" When Tansen nodded, he grinned and said, "I
like
that plan."

It's got to work. Please, Dar, for their sakes, it's got to work
.

"Will it work?" Galian asked.

"Yes," Tansen said.
 

"You seem very sure," Yorin noted.

"Which brings us back to the decision we must make today," he said. "Do we make war on the Society for our freedom, or do we give up now?"

There was a long, uneasy silence. He let them have it. He saw the look on Zarien's face and knew the lad thought he was losing. He wondered how much of the debate, all in
shallah
, Zarien was able to follow.

"When I was a boy," Tansen said at last, "people whispered Kiloran's name, afraid to say it aloud. My village paid tribute every year to an eastern waterlord who was killed by Outlookers years later. Between what we gave him and what we gave the Valdani, there was nothing left for us. We lived in hunger and hardship." He paused and added, "And so did all of you.

"Sometimes the Outlookers came into our village, taking what they wanted, abusing our men, insulting our women, and terrifying the children. Sometimes assassins came, and they did the same thing." His gaze swept the crowd. "And they did it in your villages, too.
 

"When Harlon the waterlord made his stand against the Valdani forty years ago, some Outlookers died and some assassins died. But mostly, thousands of
us
died.

"When the Firebringer came to free us from the Valdani, when he gave men a choice about their destinies and a nation to be proud of, who opposed him? Who thwarted him? Who betrayed and killed him?" Tansen's blood roared in his ears. His voice grew louder with each word of condemnation. "When it became Dar's will that we should be free, that we should fulfill prophecy and regain the lost glory of Sileria, who cared more about their own power than about the will of the goddess or the fate of this country?"

"Avenge Josarian!" Yorin shouted, leaping to his feet and waving his stolen Valdani sword in the air. "Avenge him!"

"You know what the Society can do to you if we oppose them," Tansen continued. "You know the lakes they can turn into crystal, the rivers they can stop from flowing, the wells they can make so cold your hands will fall off if you touch the water." 
      
"Avenge Josarian!" Lann bellowed.

"You know they can pull a lake up over your heads to drown you, reach out to cover your faces with suffocating masks of water, and strangle you with liquid tentacles stronger than a man's arms."

"Kiloran must die!"

"I've seen the White Dragon," Tansen warned them. "And now I know that it's not a legend. Kiloran killed the Firebringer—"

"Avenge the Firebringer!"
 

"—and will be harder to defeat than the Valdani, who are only men."

"We fought the Valdani!" Galian shouted. "We drove them all the way back to Shaljir!"

"I may not survive this war," Tansen said. "You may not survive. We will suffer."

"And we will end the suffering!" Lann vowed.

"Dar demands vengeance!" Pyron cried. "My brothers didn't die at Alizar so that a waterlord could reap the wealth of the mines!"

This is it. Make it good
.

"You will decide what you must," Tansen said. "But I made my choice the night Kiloran murdered the Firebringer. My choice was made the night he betrayed Dar, Sileria, and our destiny!"

"So was mine!" Lann declared.

"I am Josarian's bloodbrother!" Their love for Josarian made them cheer Tansen now. "And I will defeat Kiloran or die trying!"

The wild enthusiasm which met this pledge left him in no doubt of their decision. They would go to war against the waterlords. They would fight.

They were Silerians and they understood vengeance. Craved it. Lived for it.

No, it wasn't the future he wanted, the creed by which he believed Sileria could survive and thrive. But it was the first step along the way.

They seized him now and hoisted him up on their shoulders. Josarian had always let such outpourings of emotion flow over him naturally, easy with the crowd's enthusiasm, accepting the adulation which, in private, had made him wryly humble. Tansen hated it now, felt embarrassed and awkward. But he knew that his feelings were irrelevant and mustn't be allowed to destroy the wave of faith that had to carry these men through bloodshed, terror, and loss before finally taking them to a safe shore.

He was the Firebringer's brother and, as such, knew he was a symbol in which they needed to believe. Like Josarian himself, he couldn't be just a man in the eyes of the people he must lead.

Josarian, however, had at least had a bloodbrother with whom he could enjoy the ease of being just a man. Whereas Tansen...
 

He suddenly saw a flash of fiery hair gleaming under the sun and felt his heart quiver.

She had come back.

Mirabar
.

Whereas Tansen... Ah, yes, Tansen always had women to remind him that he was just a man.

The Lironi were fighting Verlon the waterlord, opposing the power he'd always held in the east, and rebelling against his attempt to claim the port city of Liron.

It was extraordinary news, and Mirabar couldn't have made the announcement to the rebels at a better moment. They were so fired with ambition, in fact, that Tansen had his hands full trying to keep them here long enough to issue orders. The people loyal to Josarian's memory couldn't defy and defeat the Honored Society without strategy and tactics, after all.

Mirabar said nothing about Elelar, and she didn't contradict the story that Zimran had acted alone. She said only, in response to curses the rebels pronounced on Zimran's memory, "But Kiloran is the one who killed Josarian, and that's all that matters now. Kiloran is the enemy we must fight."

That was when Tansen knew that however much she might hate him for not killing Elelar (and Zarien was right, it really did look like hatred), she wasn't going to confuse their cause with her private grievances. He supposed he should have expected that. Mirabar always put Sileria first. Strangely, it was the one thing she had in common with Elelar.

"Where are the
zanareen
?" he asked Mirabar now, holding council in the golden sunshine with her, Lann, Najdan, and Cheylan. Zarien was currently in one of the caves, where Rahilar again tended his bloody, blistered feet. When she was done with that, the Sister would finish brewing up the pot of black dye which Tansen had requested first thing that morning.
 

Still looking at Mirabar, Tansen said, "There were fifty
zanareen
with you when we parted company after Josarian's death, and I see none here now." Some of the
zanareen
had clung to Josarian like a shadow during the final months of his life.

"Some of them returned to the Zilar River after dawn," she replied, "to do who knows what. Mourn Josarian, I suppose. Some said they were returning to Darshon. Others scattered to spread the word."

"That Kiloran killed Josarian?"

"Yes."

"And Jalan?" Tansen prompted, asking about the wild-eyed mystic who was something of a leader among the
zanareen
.

Mirabar's eyes widened. "Of course! I should have told you. He's gone east in search of Josarian's sister."

"Jalilar." 
      
"He thought if Kiloran had gone to such effort to kill the Firebringer, then the Firebringer's sister might be in danger."

Dar be praised, this was now one less task Tansen had to assign. He had realized the necessity of it soon after leaving Elelar's villa near Chandar, but he'd had no opportunity yet to send someone after Jalilar—and now he wouldn't have to. Upon learning that Josarian was dead, Jalilar's husband Emelen, a valuable rebel leader, would know what to do: get Jalilar safely to Sanctuary and then rally with Tansen.

Neither he nor Mirabar alluded to why she hadn't mentioned this before now, since yesterday's quarrel was not a subject for the many ears around them. He could tell by the rigid coolness of her manner, though, that nothing was forgotten or forgiven.

Focus on the task at hand.

"Cheylan," he said to the Guardian, "you'll need to go east again, first thing tomorrow." Tansen sensed Cheylan's reluctance. He also caught the sudden flash in Mirabar's eyes. "I want you to take messages to the Lironi as soon as possible, assuring them of our support against Verlon and getting theirs against Kiloran."

"As you wish," Cheylan replied.

"Lann, you need to send a runner to Zilar to tell them I'm coming. Hundreds—possibly thousands—of rebels have been
 
massing near there, awaiting Josarian's arrival. We can't let them panic over his death."

"And you want a runner to precede you?"

"Yes. We've got to get word to everyone around the town of Zilar, as soon as possible, that I'm coming in Josarian's place and they should wait for me."

Lann nodded. "What else?"

"We've got to establish more sentries and better vantage points between here and Chandar. I don't want any more assassins ambushing us in our own stronghold. And send someone down to Chandar to organize them there and send news through the mountains. Tell your runners—tell everyone—to see me for instructions before leaving."

"Is that all?" Lann asked.

"No. There'll be more before I leave today, but—"

"You're leaving today?" Mirabar blurted.

Cheylan glanced at her.

"But for now, gather five of the best fighters we've got up here. I'll speak with them..." Tansen looked at Mirabar. "After I'm done speaking with the
sirana
."

Lann nodded and rose to carry out his orders.