The White Dragon (52 page)

After closing the door and giving Elelar a look of hot loathing, Cyrill returned his attention to the crowd below in Santorell Square. "I estimate their numbers have doubled since we dispersed them at midday, Eminence," he said.
 

"They keep coming back?" Elelar asked innocently.

Cyrill ignored her, but she thought she saw his ears redden. He had Borell's bad temper but wasn't nearly as intelligent. Now he turned and addressed Kaynall as if Elelar wasn't even there.

"I suggest we send mounted Outlookers into the crowd to disperse them again."

Kaynall looked at Elelar. "They'll only come back, won't they?"

"It seems likely," she agreed.

"Why?" Cyrill demanded. "Why are they doing this now? Why today?"

"Why, indeed?" Kaynall murmured, studying Elelar.

Cyrill asked, "Shall I order it, Eminence?"

Elelar said, "You don't think it will start a riot?"

"Stay out of this, woman," Cyrill ordered.

"The kind of rioting," Elelar continued, "that tore Cavasar apart before it fell to the rebels."

"And does Josarian mind," Kaynall asked, "that it is Kiloran who holds that city now?"

"Josarian," she said, "is in no position to mind anything. Ever again."

"Then it's true!" Cyrill pounced. "I thought maybe that Outlooker had lost his wits out there in the mountains. But it's true? Josarian's really dead?"

Elelar ignored him and addressed Kaynall. "The Alliance has met the conditions of the treaty."

"It was my understanding that Kiloran killed him," Kaynall said. "If he is indeed dead."

"He's dead."

"Then produce his body."

"We can't," said Elelar. "Your men blundered the attack and our people had to improvise."

Kaynall said, "You're referring to this water monster that our man described?"

"Before he disappeared," Cyrill muttered darkly.

"Yes," Elelar replied. "We call it the White Dragon."

"Which leaves no corpse?"

"Precisely."

Kaynall sat back. "How convenient."

"Far from it, obviously."
 

"Then why not just kill Josarian the ordinary way?" he asked.

"That was the part which your men blundered," she reminded Kaynall.

"But surely—"

"Josarian was surrounded by powerful friends: the
shatai,
a fire sorceress,
shallah
rebels, and many
zanareen
all willing to die to protect him. And on our side..." Elelar's stomach churned with shame and hatred as she used the words
our side
, but she shrugged and continued, "There was one sole Outlooker who'd survived the ambush against Josarian and had been taken prisoner." She gave him a cool look as she asked, "Under the circumstances, what would you recommend?"

"I would recommend producing a body."

"Water magic was the only way to kill him," she insisted.

"Kiloran was his enemy," Cyrill said. "If Josarian is indeed dead, how do we know—"

"All you need to know is that Josarian is dead," she interrupted.

"But if the Alliance didn't kill him..." Kaynall let the implication dangle.

"You would refuse to honor the treaty?" She made sure that no shadow of pleading, panic, or fear colored her tone.

"We would have to await instructions from the Imperial Council," he said judiciously.

"Yes, I see." Elelar smiled with open malice. "And, of course, you have so much time before Kiloran rolls the Idalar River back on itself to starve Shaljir of water, the Guardians burn down its walls—"

"The walls are stone," Cyrill said.

"—with their fire magic, and Tansen leads the rebels in a bloodbath against every last Valdan in the city." She paused for effect, then purred, "Yes, I'm sure there's plenty of time."

"You're not r—"

Kaynall's comment was interrupted by shattering glass and the noisy clatter of a candelabra that keeled over as something flew into it. Elelar flinched with surprise, as did both men.
 

"A rock," she said shakily, spotting it on the floor. Someone had thrown a rock through the window.

"Damn them!" Cyrill started drawing curtains across the windows, moving hastily from one to the next. "Eminence, we must disperse—"

"What brought them here?" Kaynall demanded of Elelar. "What put them in this humor?"

The heavy doors swung open then, and Searlon entered the hall. The Outlookers closed the tall, formal doors behind him, leaving the four enemies in privacy.

"
Torena
." Searlon crossed his fists and bowed his head. "I heard you were back in Shaljir. I've been awaiting your arrival here."

She nodded cordially. "Searlon."

He searched her gaze. "It is done, then?"

"Yes." She glanced at the two Valdani and added, "But they seem skeptical."

"The Outlooker's story was not entirely convincing," Searlon replied politely.

Kaynall studied them with a cynical expression. "You expect me to believe you worked together?"

They looked at him, then at each other, then back at him.
 

"Believe what you like," Elelar said indifferently.

She had agreed with Searlon that they couldn't produce some
shallah
's body for him to identify as Josarian's. Not after the Outlooker's testimony about the failure of the ambush followed by Josarian's horrifying death by sorcery. Searlon hadn't contradicted the Outlooker's tale at the time, so he'd make Kaynall suspicious if he did so now. Moreover, a substitute corpse would be their downfall if Kaynall had a second witness, one they didn't know about, available to verify or deny that it was Josarian. So they must instead convince the Advisor that Kiloran's destruction of Josarian had been the Alliance's back-up plan.

"We expect you," Searlon said to the two Valdani, "to honor your treaty with us."

Cyrill said skeptically to Searlon, "You've never before mentioned this close association you have with
Torena
Elelar."
 

Searlon's expression suggested Cyrill was even stupider than he had supposed. "Apart from the master I serve, have I mentioned
any
of my associates to you,
roshah?
"

"Oh, for the love of Dar." Elelar sighed. "Who do you think escorted me to the meeting where we negotiated the secret treaty?"

Kaynall's gaze flashed to Searlon, who'd been her escort, and she saw that he remembered.
 

Cyrill sneered and said, "Ah. For a moment I had forgotten who we're dealing with: the most experienced whore in Sileria."

"Watch your tongue." Searlon's cold voice cut across Elelar's gasp of outrage.
 

"Does she warm your bed now that my uncle is dead?" Cyrill asked Searlon nastily. "Is she your wh—"

"She is a Silerian woman," Searlon replied in a chilly tone. "And therefore I cannot permit you to insult her in my presence."

"
Permit
?" Cyrill repeated.

"We're getting off the subject," Kaynall pointed out.

"Indeed," Searlon agreed.

The Advisor said, "If Kiloran's murder of Josarian was due to their quarrel, then—"

"Then it changes nothing," Searlon said. "Josarian is dead, as p—"

"Not having a corpse changes a great deal," said Kaynall.

"That is the fault of the Outlookers," Searlon insisted. "We are not to blame."

The Advisor shook his head. "Nevertheless—"

"My master has been in the Alliance since long before you came to Sileria," said Searlon. "Since long before I went to serve him, and even long before the
torena
was born. Kiloran was the first waterlord to join the Alliance."

Kaynall stared at him now, interested, perhaps even swayed. Elelar realized that he hadn't guessed this—had perhaps never even guessed that Kiloran was in the Alliance at all.

"The
torena's
grandfather, who founded the Alliance," Searlon continued, "broke centuries of tradition by extending his hand in friendship to a waterlord." He arched one brow and added, "This was, of course, after the Emperor swore to destroy the Society and the Outlookers began to make war on it. If not for that..." The assassin's scar elongated into a dimple as he said, "Well, Eminence, none of this might ever have happened."

Kaynall looked with interest from one Silerian to the other. After a long moment, he murmured, "So. I almost feel sorry for Josarian."

"That," Searlon said, "is because you never knew him, Eminence."

A cry came through the window: "Free Sileria!"
 

Kaynall glared at Elelar. "You arranged this, didn't you?"

"Her?" Cyrill asked stupidly. Then his eyes widened as he gazed at Elelar. "Of course!"

She took the plunge. "I strongly suggest, Eminence, that you announce the Valdani surrender to that crowd out there."

Cyrill snarled, "No Silerian whore tells us—"

"Be reasonable,
torena
," Kaynall said, giving Cyrill a warning glance. "To relinquish Sileria based on—"

"You've already lost Sileria," said Elelar. "Even as we speak, rebel groups are descending on the last of your scattered outposts in the countryside. You've lost everything but Shaljir, and how long can you possibly hold on here?"

"A lot longer than you seem to think," said Cyrill.

"Beyond the city walls," she said, "lies the power and the determination which fought for and seized all that you have lost here, from Liron to Cavasar. And it's all now fully concentrated on taking Shaljir."

"Oh? Really?" Kaynall said, "I understood that there was some division among the rebel forces."

"It has not prevented us from hating you more than we hate each other," Elelar replied. "Nor will it prevent us from staying unified long enough to destroy you all, if you make that necessary." She caught Cyrill's eye. "We sacrificed Josarian. We destroyed the mines of Alizar. We—"

"I thought they were merely flooded," said Cyrill.

"They can never be mined again," Searlon lied smoothly.

"We poisoned our own wells, killed our own traitors, and sent our own loved ones to certain death." Elelar leaned toward Kaynall. "So just imagine, Eminence, what we're willing to do
you,
the remaining Valdani, in order to free Sileria now."

"A bit of patience," Kaynall said, "is needed when—"

"We've run out of patience," Searlon said. "Surrender."

"Or what?" Cyrill prompted with open disdain.

"If you do not announce your surrender by sundown," Elelar lied, "our allies will make the secret treaty public in Valda."

Kaynall looked startled, then shook his head. "If they did that, they couldn't keep it from becoming public here, too. Do you really want all of Sileria to know that the Alliance betrayed the so-called Firebringer?"

The Valdani had, of course, always remained highly skeptical—even openly contemptuous—of Josarian's divine rebirth in the Fires of Dar. But no one in Sileria cared what they thought, least of all Elelar.

"No, we don't," she admitted. "But if you refuse to honor your treaty—now, today, before sundown—then you leave us no choice. There are very few of our names on that treaty, and we are willing to accept the consequences of exposure." Her gaze encompassed both Valdani men as she said, "Neither of you has been in Sileria very long, but it has perhaps been long enough for you to observe that we are not afraid to die."

"Long enough to observe that life is cheap here," Cyrill amended.

She ignored him as she continued, "The consequences to Sileria, if the treaty becomes public, will be minor. Five of us signed a dishonorable treaty in secret, and five of us will die for it. Tansen had no part of it and, as the dead Firebringer's brother—"

"His what?" Cyrill blurted.

"—he will be elevated to even greater heroic status than he already enjoys."

"They weren't brothers," Cyrill said uncertainly. The Outlookers had learned all they could, which wasn't much, about the rebel leaders.

"Nothing in writing connects Kiloran or the Honored Society with the treaty, either," Elelar pointed out. "Whereas it will look very bad, indeed, when the citizens of Valdania find out how you, acting on the orders of the Imperial Council, sacrificed Outlookers, cities, rural districts, Valdani-owned lands, and even High Commander Koroll's life, giving up the jewel of the Middle Sea piece by piece because you were too weak to hold it while you waged your costly wars on the mainland."

The crowd outside, in Santorell Square, was growing dangerously impatient. "
Free Sileria!
"

"Exposure will be more than a little awkward for you, Eminence," Searlon joined in. "And as for the Imperial Council's fate..." He shrugged gracefully. "Well, this is the sort of incident that foments riot, rebellion, and revolution, isn't it?"