The White Dragon (77 page)

An assassin came to the door of Abidan's bedchamber.

"
Siran?
" He carried a lantern, and Abidan could see his puzzled expression. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's wrong!" Abidan snapped. "Go get my brother!"

"But,
siran
... It's the middle of the n—"

"
Now!
" Abidan roared. "You pull him out from between that bitch's legs if you have to! Do you hear me? And bring here!"

"Yes,
siran
." The assassin departed hastily.

Abidan finished pulling on his boots and strode out of the bedchamber. His own woman was in Sanctuary awaiting the birth of their second child. The first had been stillborn. Recalling how horrible that whole ordeal was, Abidan had sent her to the Sisters several months ago. A smart decision. Between war with the Valdani and now war with Tansen, he didn't have time for such things.
 

Neither did Liadon. Abidan had thought—had foolishly believed—that his brother understood that and wouldn't let the emasculating whore who ruled his wits move back in, yet again, and destroy all their work.

I'll kill him for this! I'll kill
her
for this!

Abidan marched down the hall of his modest stone house which squatted deep in the mountains east of Zilar, so high up that Outlookers had never found it.

I'll kill them both and feed their carcasses to the dogs!

He didn't have dogs, but he could get some. It was a small point.

He and Liadon hadn't had a good enough teacher. That's why they weren't as powerful as Kiloran, Verlon, Gulstan, Kariman, or some of the others. But Kiloran had made promises. Oh, yes. If they could help him against Josarian, help him kill Mirabar, help him defeat Tansen, help him dominate the city of Shaljir...

Kiloran was old and had no heir. Kiloran knew things about water that no one else did, not even Baran—who, although he even crazier than Liadon's mistress, was damned good, Abidan admitted grudgingly. All the brothers had to do was support Kiloran against the Guardians and Josarian's loyalists, and the old waterlord would teach them everything he knew and make them heirs to his immense power and vast territory. Who knew? If his plans succeeded, Abidan and Liadon might even rule Sileria when this was all over.

But not if we can't even maintain control over our own damn river!

They must bring Zilar to its knees. Zilar, where Tansen had publicly declared war against the Society, where he had commenced his bloodfeud against Kiloran and attracted thousands to his cause. Zilar, the jewel of their own territory!

If the brothers failed now, Kiloran would find them unworthy. He might even decide they were expendable.

So when Abidan felt Liadon's grasp on the Shaljir River slacken even a bit, he saw their future crumbling before his eyes. Liadon understood how much was at stake. Abidan was sure that only one thing could distract him now.

That woman.

Abidan decided he had never hated anyone so much in his life. He stepped out into the clear night air, determined to make Liadon focus all his attention on the Shaljir River, as he damn well knew he should. He'd get Liadon to concentrate on his duty even if it meant killing that woman right in front of him!

"Get a torch!" Abidan snapped at an assassin guarding the door to his house.

"
Siran?
"

"We're going to my brother," he growled. He was too restless to wait here for Liadon. He'd go there. And he'd murder that woman when he got there!

The brothers lived in similar stone houses on opposite sides of a narrow river, the first significant water source they had ever learned to harness and command. Now that the long rains were only a memory and the dry season was approaching, the river was shallow and growing sluggish. Abidan couldn't see it from here, not on a night like this, but he could smell it, hear it, feel its presence. He owned it in every way that mattered, as he owned the Shaljir River—as he dreamed of one day owning the Idalar itself, the greatest river in Sileria, the one which determined leadership of the Honored Society and domination of the capital city.

Those plans would never come to fruition if his idiot brother didn't keep his mind on their work.

Filled with yet another surge of rage, Abidan took the torch which the assassin brought to him and set out for Liadon's house.

I will kill him for this! I will make him watch while I kill her! I will—

These satisfying thoughts were interrupted by shouts and screams coming from across the river.

"Fire! Fire!"

"
Siran!
"

"They are burning the house!"

"Where's it coming from?"

"Watch out!"

"Sound the alarm!"

"
Arrrrgh!
"

Flames erupted in the night. Screams filled the air. There were strange explosions of fire in the trees. A flickering glow painted the sky above where Abidan knew his brother's house lay.

"Wake everyone!" he ordered an assassin.

Many were already awake, alerted by the noise. Half-dressed and confused, they emerged from the darkness, from their tents and their quarters, armed with their
shir
. Many weren't here, though. They had homes of their own. Assassins served him and lived under his protection, but they didn't live right
here
. Many would hear the alarm, sounding at this very moment, but it would take time for them to get here. Others lived so far away they wouldn't even hear it. Wouldn't even know that they were needed. A waterlord's home was always well-guarded, but it wasn't a military encampment

It didn't need to be, Abidan reminded himself with growing fury at this outrage. A waterlord could defend himself and his land. A waterlord could destroy anyone who dared to violate his home or attack his person.

More men came plunging through the night.
Shallaheen
. Lowlanders. Tansen's people. They flung themselves into combat with his assassins. And the fire... Guardians, he realized.

Guardians attacking his home. Attacking him and Liadon. Attacking waterlords.

They'll die for this.

"Liadon!" Abidan shouted.

Liadon's house was burning.
 

No wonder he was distracted. No wonder his grip on the Shaljir River had slipped.

Abidan started forward at a run, dropping the torch in his hand. He must get to his brother. Together, they would destroy those who had the gall to attack them in their homes tonight. He must get to his brother, and they would—

He came to a halt as a strange power tore at him, almost knocking him over in its sudden sweep across his senses.

"Argh!" He fell back a step.

"
Siran?
"

Heat.

Terrible, intense, fiery heat.
 

Attacking him. Attacking his water. The river.
His
river.

Not the Shaljir, he realized. It was too big, too powerful, too much for them. This little river. This stream rushing past his house.
 

They think they can take it from me!

Shaking with rage, he swept the river into the arms of his will and commanded it to turn and attack. He struggled against the hot, alien power playing across the surface of his river. What did the Guardians think they were doing? They couldn't control water, they couldn't take this river from him! A hundred tentacles rose out of the water now, answering his will, responding to his sorcery. And the river reached for his enemies.

A
shallah
screamed as icy tentacles enfolded him and pulled him into the river to drown him. A lowlander struggled against a watery mask that covered his face, smothering him.
 

Now Abidan felt his brother reaching for the water, too, felt the familiar texture of Liadon's power. But Liadon was pulling the river the wrong way, trying to use it to defend his burning house, his burning land.

"Let it burn!" Abidan screamed, knowing it was futile, knowing his brother couldn't hear him at this distance. "Fight the men!"

No fire on my side
, Abidan suddenly realized.
Only men
.

Did that mean there was only fire on Liadon's side, and no men? The two brothers would be using the river for different purposes, at odds with each other, if they were fighting different enemies without realizing it.

No, the same enemy
, he realized.
But a clever one.

Kiloran had warned them about underestimating Tansen. "He lets you see what you want to see," Kiloran had once said, "what you expect to see. Then he does what has never occurred to you."

This attack certainly proved that. Who but Tansen would strike a waterlord in his very home, the last place any sane Silerian would choose for a battleground? Even Outlookers had rarely tried such a thing, not since Harlon's day some forty years ago; and they had lost so many men before they finally destroyed Harlon.

There was another explosion, and the bridge that spanned the river went up in flames. Hot, violent magic poured forth from it, singeing Abidan's senses. The Guardians were trying to cut him off from his brother.

Did Liadon even know Abidan was also under attack? Or were he and his men so consumed with fighting the sudden fire, the ensorcelled flames of Guardians, that he didn't even realize—just wondered why Abidan hadn't yet come to his aid?

Didn't Liadon feel Abidan's will exerted on the river, too?
 

Let go, Liadon, let go. Give it to me now.

But Liadon didn't let go. He was trying to pull the water off course and drag it across his land in a vast wave to put out the fire.

A thousand hissing snakes of liquid were writhing across its tormented surface, reaching for Abidan's enemies but weakened by Liadon's call.
 

I'll let go of it
, Abidan decided.

His men were outnumbered, but he was sure they could hold off their attackers until more assassins arrived in response to the alarm. And the people who lived around here, the
shallaheen
who relied on him and Liadon for every sip they drank, would come, too. Josarian was dead and Tansen's cause was hopeless. The people who lived under the brothers' protection knew who filled their cups, and they would fight loyally.
 

He would let Liadon have the river, and when the fire was out, then Liadon would realize what was happening and they would join forces. Whatever the Guardians thought they were doing, they weren't waterlords, and they couldn't command the river. The water was safe from them.

Take it, Liadon, take it.

Abidan let go, surrendering the river to his brother's needs.

A moment later, he realized what a huge mistake he had just made.

"Then he does what has never occurred to you."

The surface of the water exploded in flames.

Abidan had never seen anything like it. Had never imagined anything like it. Fire magic battering away at water. Wave after wave of flames sliding across the surface of his river. Spears of glowing lava plunging into it, hurting him as it did so, infecting his ensorcelled domain with something alien and strange.

He shouldn't have let go. That was what Tansen had wanted. That was the plan, Abidan realized with horrified fury.

Abidan reached for the river again—and found nothing there but a hot wall of violent resistance. Guardian magic now stood between him and the water which had been his.

"My river!
Mine!
" he screamed, running forward, determined to seize it physically if he couldn't touch it any other way.

Tansen couldn't have it! Tansen couldn't take away his whole future, his whole life!

"Liadon! Stop them!
Stop them!
"

He couldn't even tell if his brother was now battling the Guardians for their river, or if he had already lost it, too.
 

"
Liadon!
" he screamed.

Those spineless fire mages, those scraping servants of the volcano goddess, those mewling ghost-talking cowards now stood between him and his water, his river, his power! He would kill them all for this!
 

But as he turned away from the appalling sight of his river obliterated by a roaring display of enchanted fire which illuminated the night, he realized that he'd have to kill them the old-fashioned way. His water-well certainly wasn't enough of a weapon to fight off the second wave of peasant warriors now emerging from the flickering shadows, pouring out of the darkness and into this fiery nightmare.