The Destroyer Goddess (77 page)

Ronall walked along the shore of the Bay of Shaljir, accepting the prayers, blessings, and praise of the sea-born folk. Some of these people had seen his rebirth and had sailed here alongside the Lascari. Others were only just now learning that he was the sea king.

He had been acknowledged at Santorell Palace as the new Yahrdan's father, and he had commenced the work of convincing Silerians here, as well as in the east, to start living in peace with the Valdani among them. However, he had no interest in remaining at Santorell Palace now to watch the Alliance, the loyalists, and the Guardians all haggle over who would rule—and how—until Gaborian came of age. Yes, Ronall cared about what happened on land, and he would teach the sea-born to care, too, to become part of Sileria so they could serve her—and serve Gaborian. But the details of how the landfolk allotted power hadn't interested him even when he'd been one of them.

He was eager to go back to sea now. Tonight. Where he would again slip overboard and embrace
her
.

The sea breeze ruffled his hair, and he tasted salt on his tongue. The square-sailed boats of the sea-born folk rippled in the changing wind as another rainstorm blew down from the mountains. Water lapped at the shore, and he listened to the sea-born dialect being spoken all around him, realizing that he'd need to learn it.

"Will you agree to be tattooed,
siran?
" Linyan asked him, obviously feeling a little footsore as he walked beside Ronall on the dryland. "We would like to mark you as the sea king."

Ronall considered this. "Does it hurt?"

Linyan laughed, as if Ronall were joking. Ah, well.

This was his life now. And it was a good one.

Baran found it amusing that Tansen clearly felt awkward about arriving at Belitar before Mirabar did. Enjoying himself, Baran did his best to make the
shatai
as uncomfortable as possible. Starting with nearly drowning him in the moat.

"I'm so sorry about that," Baran apologized as Tansen, drenched and dripping, was escorted into his study. "I haven't been feeling my best lately, you know."

Scowling, Tansen replied tersely, "I hear you're dying. My condolences."

"Oh, dear, you're just
soaked
, aren't you?" 

"Where's Mirabar?" Tansen demanded.

"In Shaljir. I've had a letter from her. She mentioned you might be arriving, though I had no idea you'd impose on us quite so soon."

Haydar entered the damp study with a blanket for Tansen, which Baran found disappointing. Then she returned with refreshments for Tansen and stayed to ask questions about Najdan, whom Mirabar had neglected to mention in the letter which Derlen the Guardian wrote to Baran at her request.

"That will be all, Haydar," Baran said after a while, growing bored with the subject of Najdan's health.

She protested, "But I also wanted to ask about—"

"Leave the room, Haydar," Baran said pleasantly, "or I'll kill you."

She left the room.

Baran confided to Tansen, "I find her a little annoying."

Tansen dripped on the furniture and maintained a stoically blank expression.

"So I take it Verlon is dead?" Baran asked. 

Tansen briefly looked as if he thought this might be a trick question, then he nodded. "While we attacked Verlon, the Lironi and their allies engaged Verlon's remaining friends elsewhere, in a number of decisive battles. The Guardians who were with me kept Verlon busy with an attack on the streams crisscrossing his land," he said. "Then we invaded his estate, and more Guardians set the house on fire while we fought his men. He couldn't douse the fire, and so he came outside."

"Where you killed him," Baran surmised.

"And when I left the east a few days ago, the remaining waterlords and assassins there were being hunted down and killed, or else fleeing Sileria."

"So the Honored Society is shattered in the east," Baran murmured.

"Yes. They're finished. Now we just have to finish our work here."

"Have you heard the latest news about Gulstan and Kariman?" When Tansen shook his head, Baran told him what had happened while he'd been in the east. "Then, with Gulstan depleted after having finally destroyed Kariman, your friends overran Gulstan's remaining territory and killed him." He paused. "So your plan worked. Er, I assume it
was
your plan, from the start?"

"Yes," Tansen admitted, his face remarkably inexpressive.

"I thought so. It had your touch. I could never understand why neither Gulstan nor Kariman realized that. Well, no, I'm lying," he confessed. "I always thought they were fools, and I'd have been astonished if they were shrewd enough to realize that you murdered Geriden and planted gossip, all in an effort to get them to destroy each other. Oh, Kiloran probably suspected. But those two? No. They just did what you wanted them to do." He clucked his tongue. "It's really rather sad, if considered from a certain point of view."

Tansen drank the tisane Haydar had given him and said nothing. What a dull fellow. What in the world did he and Mirabar find to talk about when they weren't plotting the deaths of their enemies?

"The letter which my wife sent from Shaljir," Baran said, choosing the marital phrase deliberately, "also mentioned the extraordinary birth of
Torena
Elelar's baby. We live in such interesting times." When Tansen didn't respond, he added, "Pilgrims have been passing through here with the same story, too. Returning from their sojourn on Mount Darshon. Their accounts are a trifle incoherent, but very enlivening."

"Has Mirabar told you anything else?"

"Should she have?"

After the slightest hesitation, Tansen said, "She's bringing my son here with her."

"Ah, the sea-born boy."

"She told you?"

"That she was bringing him here? No. As your increasingly burdened host, may I ask why?"

Tansen was silent for a long moment, and Baran found himself wondering what was going on behind that habitually controlled face. Palpable tension entered the room, without any obvious source. To Baran's surprise, he began to feel anxious. No, this was no ordinary man, he noted. Despite Tansen's lack of sorcery, no one should ever make the mistake of assuming he was without power of his own.

The
shatai
finally spoke. "My sea-born bloodson, Zarien, is Alcinar's child."

Baran fell back against his chair as if he'd been kicked in the chest. His mind jumped wildly from one thought to the next, then settled on protesting, "She wasn't pregnant."

"The last time you saw her? No. She wasn't."

Baran felt his mouth hanging open stupidly as he stared at Tansen. His blood roared in his ears as he realized what the other man was saying. "You're telling me...
No
."

"Kiloran sired a child on her. Zarien. We only learned this... very recently."

"
Alcinar
." Kiloran raping her, forcing her, doing whatever he wanted to her... And then... "She got pregnant?" he whispered weakly, feeling tears gather in his eyes.

"And she escaped," Tansen said. "Mirabar thinks it was the child in her womb that enabled her to leave Kandahar. Alcinar  thought you were dead, so she went to the Lascari for help."

"It was true, then," Baran muttered. "What Kiloran wrote to me after I married Mirabar."

"Yes. Alcinar ran away. Alive."

A terrible, cruel hope washed through him. "Is she still alive?" he pleaded.

"No. I'm sorry."

It took a moment for Baran to find his voice again. "How did she die?" When Tansen hesitated, he snapped, "Tell me or I'll kill you."

Tansen sighed. "She drowned herself after the baby was born."

"Alcinar...
No
..." Baran groaned, grief-stricken, and slowly bent over in his chair, weeping now. "I would have cared for her... I was still trying to free her... Noooo..."

He was shaking, horrified anew, as if it had happened yesterday rather than fifteen years ago. Hatred and the thirst for revenge burned icily inside him. Sorrow and despair made him weak and wild.

He heard Vinn shout, "
Siran!
" There was a scuffle and the sound of something clattering to the ground. Then Vinn demanded breathlessly, "What have you done to Baran?"

"I've brought news," Tansen said quietly.

There was a pause before Vinn asked, "Has something happened to the
sirana?
To the child she carries?"

"No," Tansen replied.

Baran lifted his head and looked at them. Tansen, without unsheathing his swords, had disarmed Vinn and now held him in what must be a painful position, judging by the grimace on Vinn's face.

"
Siran
, what's wrong?"

"My wife... My first wife..." Baran sighed and wiped his eyes. "Had a child before she died." Vinn's face brightened momentarily. "No," Baran said, forestalling the question. "Kiloran's child."

Vinn's expression changed to one of dark understanding. "Where is the child now?"

"On his way here, by now, I think," Tansen said, releasing Vinn. 

"He's Tansen's sea-born bloodson. A Lascari. As Alcinar was." Baran sighed. "Lascari... It was a name we never even said aloud again after she chose me and they shunned her. We married and came to the mountains, where she'd never see or hear the sea again, never be reminded..." He was still shaking. "Kiloran's son."

"He's
my
son now," Tansen said firmly. "But Kiloran has learned the truth."

"How?"

"He wanted to know more about Zarien. Maybe because he's my son. Maybe because it bothered Kiloran that there was another Lascari on land. So Searlon interrogated Zarien's grandfather—"

"Linyan."

Tansen nodded. "Yes."

"I knew him. I sailed as his passenger when I was a merchant. That's how I met Alcinar. She was his daughter. Linyan didn't like transporting landfolk, but he liked the profits." Remembering those days, Baran added, "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that Searlon got a hold of him. Intolerant, bigoted old—"

Tansen interrupted, "The point is, as a result of Searlon's interrogation, Kiloran knows who Zarien really is and wants him back."

No one but Kiloran could inspire the mindless panic that seized Baran now. "I won't let him have Alcinar's child!"

"And I won't let him have my son." Tansen paused. "So you and I finally have something in common."

"Mirabar should have brought him straight to Belitar," Baran said frantically. "She shouldn't stall in Shaljir."

"Searlon was the one looking for him, and Najdan has killed Searlon. Kiloran has no way of knowing Zarien is in Shaljir now, and I don't believe he'd expect it. We have time." He met Baran's eyes and added, "But I will feel much better once he's here."

"He'll be safe here," Baran promised. "I swear I will keep him safe... as I could not keep
her
safe."

"So that's something else we have in common," Tansen said without sympathy. "We each lost the woman we loved to a waterlord."

"But you'll get yours back," Baran said bitterly. "I'll be dead before my own daughter is born."

"At least you will see Alcinar's son." After a moment, Tansen added, "He's a fine boy. And... he has the gift." When Baran stared at him, he elaborated, "Water magic."

"We must never let Kiloran have him," Baran said, feeling sick—and not sure whether it was because of his illness or the raw emotions coursing through him. "Kiloran will corrupt him. I know. He corrupted me."

"Zarien," Tansen said, "is not corruptible."

Baran snorted. "You don't understand what water magic can do to a person. You don't know what Kiloran can do to the mind."

"Oh, yes, I do," Tansen replied grimly.

"Let the water be in you, that you may be in the water," Kiloran said to Zarien. "Answer when it whispers, so it will answer when
you
whisper."

Concentrating fiercely, the boy closed his eyes and spread his tattooed hands towards the deep pool of water which currently sat in the center of the floor of Kiloran's great hall. 

"Let it seduce you," Kiloran said, "that it will be seduced by you, too."