The White Dragon (68 page)

The young man's complexion darkened. "I... I beg your pardon,
toren.
I... We have known such hard times here."

"And you can see by looking at the
toren
that he has known hard times, too," the elderly host insisted.

Ronall lifted a brow at this assessment, but the young
shallah
bobbed his head in agreement and repeated his apology. Then he shuffled away, leaving Ronall in solitary conversation with the host. There was an awkward silence while the elderly
shallah
refilled Ronall's mug, but then everyone returned to their own conversations.

"Don't you believe," Ronall said quietly to the host, "that I've done such things—and worse?"

The old man shrugged. "These have been hard years. We've all done things we regret,
toren
."

Ronall snorted into his brew. "I've done nothing I regret as much as just being born."

"And wouldn't many, born to Valdani-ruled Sileria, say the same,
toren
?"

"Would they?"

"With the future of Sileria now so uncertain," the elderly
shallah
said, "who knows how many more of us will yet live to regret ever being born?"

Ronall sighed and drained his mug. Again. Then he decided to get stinking drunk. As usual.

"We'll attack in six different groups," Tansen explained to Radyan, outlining the plan for assaulting Abidan and Liadon. "Three groups per brother. Two separate attacks. Simultaneous, so neither brother will be free to help the other. We'll begin when... Are you paying attention?"
 

Radyan was looking past him with a frown. "What? Um, no."

"Radyan, this is im—"

"He's going to hurt someone."

Tansen turned and saw what Radyan was staring at in the fading sunlight. Galian was practicing with the
shir
he'd taken from the assassin he had slain during the fight in the old Kintish temple a few nights ago.

"Hurting someone," Tansen said dryly, "is the basic idea behind a
shir
, you know."

"Ah, but if we could narrow it down to only hurting the
enemy
," Radyan said as Galian, fighting an imaginary opponent, came close to stabbing a Guardian who was passing by.

The Guardian spurted flames everywhere in reflexive response, causing Galian to howl in startled alarm. The two started arguing in angry voices that carried easily to where Tansen and Radyan stood making plans.

"And making
new
enemies," Tansen noted, "hardly seems productive at this time."

"I wish someone could take that thing away from him," said Radyan.

Tansen grinned. "Actually you can, but..."

"But I'd have to kill him first." While they watched, Galian forgot he was holding the deadly
shir
and nearly poked the Guardian in the eye while they argued. "Which I may soon be willing to do," Radyan added.

"Oh, well. At least it may be useful in our attack." Tansen shrugged. "Najdan says one of the brothers made it."

"I really can't stand this any longer." Radyan left Tansen's side, walked up to Galian, and seized him by the shoulder. "Come talk with me and Tansen."
 

"But I—"

"Make your apologies and come."

"But—"

"
Now
, Galian."

They were all on a bluff overlooking the Shaljir River, which flowed smoothly past the town of Zilar. The water's innocent surface revealed nothing of the sorcery that ruled it. The bustle of activity continued throughout the town, and people were especially busy at the water's edge. If the plan Tansen had made with the Guardians failed to destroy Abidan and Liadon, then Zilar would need all the water it could store. If his plan succeeded, then they could safeguard the stored water against a future shortage, in case other waterlords captured the river.

Tansen's gaze swept the riverside and sought Zarien. Although not much of a walker, the boy was certainly a hard worker. Throughout their stay in Zilar, he had invested tireless effort in harvesting and storing water, evidently even enjoying the work. Tansen supposed that after feeling out of his element for so long on the dryland, it was a pleasure for him to find something he was good at. Tansen well remembered how bewildered and inept he himself had felt during his first few months in the Kintish Kingdoms, after fleeing Sileria as a boy, and he supposed Zarien was experiencing similar frustrations.
 

While Tansen watched Zarien working at the water's edge, he heard Radyan's irritable voice as he returned to Tansen's side with Galian. "How anyone who handles two
yahr
so well could possibly be so clumsy with—"

"The
shir
is a new weapon," Galian protested. "And new weapons take time—"

"Exactly! So why would you practice with it in a busy, crowded—"

"Oh, just ask Tansen. New weapons—"

"
Tansen!"

Galian and Radyan stopped arguing as Yorin approached at a run.

"What is it?" Tansen asked.

Yorin's scarred face was troubled. "It's bad news."

"What?" Radyan prompted.

"Word has come from Cavasar," Yorin said. "The people there have declared their loyalty to Kiloran. They will not join us."

Tansen rubbed his neck and tried to view this disappointing news in perspective. "I expected this. He holds the city, after all."

"Yes, if any place is completely at Kiloran's mercy..." Radyan sighed and looked away.
 

Galian said, "Let's just hope Shaljir is tired of paying tribute."

"Liron is resisting Verlon," Tansen reminded them.

"No word yet from Adalian," Yorin said.

Tansen's gaze sought out Zarien again. "Maybe if we could get the sea-born to declare themselves on our side..."

"Shaljir is what matters most now," Radyan insisted. "If you can—"

"Something's wrong," Tansen said suddenly, his gaze still fixed on Zarien.
 

The boy waved his tattooed arms and shouted at people to get away from the water. He dragged several men back from the river's edge. Tansen could faintly hear him urging people on the main dock to get back, run,
go.

Radyan drew in a sharp breath. "What in the Fires..."

Suddenly the whole river started churning, foaming and bubbling as if animated by a thousand different currents.

"It's
them,
" Galian breathed. "The waterlords."

"Get away from the river!" Tansen's voice attracted the attention of many people, but not that of the sea-born boy he was shouting at. Zarien was still near the water, his energy being spent in yelling frantic instructions to a well-dressed fat man—a merchant, by the look of him—who stood on the dock, staring transfixed at the violently churning water.

"Zarien!" Tansen shouted. "Get away!"

Tansen scrambled down the bluff, pushing his way through the people rushing toward him as they escaped the waterside.

A torrent of water crashed into the dock. It collapsed. The horrified screams of Zilar's panicking citizens assaulted Tansen's ears as the fat merchant fell into the heaving, roiling water.

"Zarien!" Tansen saw what the boy meant to do and shouted, "
No!
"
 

Zarien dived in after the merchant.

Tansen lost his footing and slid into two women climbing up the embankment. He tumbled over them, fell against some rocks, felt something jagged bite into his shoulder and cheek, then scrambled to his feet and continued his frantic descent to the river's edge.

His heart pounded with terror as his eyes scanned the foaming, turbulent water.
 

"Zarien!
Zarien!
"

Tansen almost jumped in, but reason prevailed. He was a competent swimmer at best. He'd be of no help to the boy in the water.
 

He glanced around frantically, searching the water for Zarien, searching the ground for the
stahra
. Sharifar wouldn't let the boy die, surely she wouldn't.

He found the enchanted oar, seized it, and searched the churning river again for some sign of Zarien.

There!
 

Zarien was holding the fat merchant around the neck and trying to keep his own head above water.

"Zarien!"

If you let him die, Sharifar, I will never come to sea. Never
.

Tansen threw the oar like a spear. It landed close to Zarien... but the unpredictable bubbling water carried it away from him. Tansen didn't think he even saw it.

He looked around for something else. Something he could throw to Zarien. Something the boy could grab... He spotted an ordinary oar, one that lay beside a small dugout lying on the embankment.

Tansen seized it, estimated how far he needed to throw it, and... And stopped when he realized how much closer to the riverbank Zarien was getting with each strong stroke of his free arm, each powerful kick of his legs.

Darfire. He's not drowning.
 

Almost numb with surprise, Tansen leaned over and extended the oar as Zarien neared shore. The boy saw it, seized it, and let Tansen pull him up onto the bank. Then he turned and started hauling the fat merchant out of the water.

"Help," Zarien croaked. "He's even heavier than he looks."

When they had pulled the merchant to safety, Zarien leaned over, braced his hands on his knees, and panted, "That was hard." He sounded absurdly surprised.

Tansen resisted the urge to hit him. "What did you think you were doing?" he demanded.

Zarien squinted up at him. "What's wrong now?"

"You could have been killed!"

Zarien looked at Tansen, looked at the roiling water, and looked back at Tansen. "By that?" He sounded almost contemptuous.
 

"Dar give me patience," Tansen muttered.

"The sea-born," Zarien informed him, "do not drown in a little foamy river water." He glanced down at the merchant and added, "But landfolk do."

The merchant was choking and wheezing. "Thank... Thank..."

"He's thanking you," Tansen pointed out.

Zarien was staring at Tansen. "You're bleeding."

He glanced down at his arm and saw a gash. "Oh."

"Your face, too."

The words made him realize that his cheek was stinging. He touched it. His fingers came away smeared with blood. "I fell," he said wearily.

"You should be more care—"

"Don't even say it."

Zarien sighed. "Never mind."

Tansen shook his head. "I don't know whether to praise you for saving his life or beat you for scaring me t—"

"Something's wrong," Zarien said, staring at the water.

"Of
course
something's—"

"No, something else," Zarien said. "The water is doing something."

"
Yes
, it's doing something—"

"Something else, something new," Zarien persisted.

"Get back," Tansen ordered. "Let's get away from it." He kicked the gurgling, disoriented merchant. "Get up! We're not carrying you."

"Where's my
stahra
?" Zarien asked. "I'm sure it was right here when I dived in."

"Uh, sorry about that." Tansen seized his arm and started dragging him up the embankment, once again aware of the terrified screams of the crowd. "I threw it in the river."

"You threw it in the river?" Zarien repeated incredulously.

"I thought it would save you."

"I didn't need saving!"