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Authors: Laura Resnick

The White Dragon (41 page)

BOOK: The White Dragon
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By the time Tansen finished giving everyone their orders, as well as preparing the men Lann had picked for the raid he was planning, he was exhausted. And he still had a long journey ahead of him. There had already been enough delays since Josarian's death, so he knew he must leave now. He couldn't afford to lose more time.

That sudden, terrifying earthquake earlier today had made everyone jumpy, and few things caused more dread among the
shallaheen
than seeing Dar throw a tantrum. Smoke had billowed wildly out of Darshon's caldera for hours, blackening the sky and creating an oppressive atmosphere.

The worst part of the day, though, had been those few moments at the start of the earthquake when someone told him Mirabar and Zarien were inside the sixth cave. Even now, his heart hadn't quite recovered from the plunge it had taken then. He still remembered the wild flood of relief he'd felt upon bumping into them at the rear of the first chamber as they made their frantic escape. His hands, steady against every opponent he'd ever faced, had been shaking.

Now, as the smoke-darkened sky over Dalishar threatened to bring on an early night, Tansen finished examining the clothes he had ordered Sister Rahilar to dye black. Then he asked for Najdan and Mirabar. He didn't have any important orders for the assassin, who he already knew would protect Mirabar with his life, but he didn't think she'd want to be alone with him again so soon after what had happened earlier today. He wasn't sure he wanted to be alone with her, either.

When they sat down with him, Tansen said to Mirabar, "I want you to leave for Zilar in the morning. I want the people there to see you, to see how powerful you are, and to hear from your own lips that you've had a vision about the coming of a new Yahrdan."

"Where will you be?"

"I'll meet you in Zilar," he promised. "I've got something I need to do first."

"Something that requires you to dress like an assassin?" Najdan asked with a glance at Sister Rahilar, who was packing the black-dyed clothes.

"Yes."
 

"Something that involves those
shir
and
jashareen
you took from those bodies yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Najdan said. "A good idea."

"What's a good idea?" Mirabar asked impatiently.

"He's going to begin sowing distrust among the waterlords," Najdan said.

"They'll be hard enough to defeat individually," Tansen said, keeping his voice low. "Unless we can destroy their unity, we haven't got a chance."

Mirabar figured it out. "Who are you going to attack?"

"Wyldon. He still resides, as far as I know, in the Amalidar Mountains south of Lake Kandahar. With luck, he'll think Kiloran is trying to eliminate him so he can take over his territory."

"And Wyldon is loud," Najdan said.

"Precisely. If he believes it, he'll tell his troubles to others—and convince some of them that they may be next."

"What about Baran?" Mirabar asked. "He sided with Josarian against Kiloran. Among the waterlords, surely he's our best chance of an ally."

"He is," Tansen agreed. "Baran's half-mad and wholly unpredictable, but there's a chance he might join us just to thwart Kiloran again. And he's strong enough for his defection to hurt the Society. That's why I'm sending a message to him, taken by Sister Velikar, offering our friendship and asking for his."

"Velikar?" Mirabar repeated incredulously.

"Yes, well, I needed a Sister who isn't afraid of waterlords," he said. "Even one as volatile as Baran."

"Ah, but will Velikar frighten Baran?" Najdan asked dryly.
 

"She's a strange ambassador," Tansen agreed, "but these are strange times."

"About Zilar..." Mirabar said slowly. "There's more you should know."

"About your visions?"

"Yes. I think the new Yahrdan will be a child."

Tansen's heart took another plunge. "Could it be Zarien? Could that be why—"

"I don't think so." She told him about bringing the sea goddess forth in the Guardian flames.

"No wonder Zarien's been looking so stunned all afternoon," he said wryly. "I thought it was just the earthquake."
 

In the irritating manner Tansen had learned to expect of visions and Otherworldly matters, Sharifar hadn't come right out and said whether or not he was the sea king. However, she had advised Zarien to stay with Tansen and predicted that Tansen would lead the boy home.

"That's open to almost any interpretation," he protested.
 

"I can guess what interpretation the boy will place on it," Najdan said.

"So can I." He asked Mirabar, "But you don't think his coming here is related to your visions?"

She shrugged, her expression revealing some of her own frustration. "I don't know. I don't think so, but..." She sighed. "A child of fire, a child of water, a child of sorrow..."

"The child you're looking for will be all of those things?"

"Perhaps," she said vaguely.
 

"Fire and water?"
 

She heard his doubt. "I know, I know."

"And you have no idea who it could be?" Tansen prodded.

"Actually..."

"What?"
 

"The first time I ever met Cheylan, he told me of a child who lives in the east. A Guardian boy named Semeon." Mirabar took a deep breath and added, "A child like me."

Tansen saw from Najdan's surprised expression that she had kept this a secret until now. "Can he find this boy?"

"Yes, though it may take time," she said.

"He's going east again in the morning. I'll speak to him before I leave today and tell him to search for this boy—Semeon?—and put him some place safe where you can meet him."

Mirabar nodded, then changed the subject. "I think you may be right about Shaljir."

"About not attacking it?"

She nodded. "The Beckoner says the Valdani will leave Sileria."

Tansen said, "We've believed that for months. I just want to know how much more blood we'll have to shed to make them do it. How many more of us will have to die to get rid of them?"

"That question," she admitted, "the Beckoner did not address."

"No, of course not."
 

She looked perturbed. "I only repeat—"

"I know."

"If I knew more—"

"I know." He eyed her warily. "So perhaps I've done the best thing." Without Elelar, who in Shaljir could speak on their behalf to the Valdani, after all?

Mirabar's expression was hot and cold at once as she replied, "I didn't say that."

Tansen sighed. "Never mind. Is there anything else you should tell me?"

"Nothing I can think of now."

He looked at Najdan. "I've arranged for six men to accompany you. It's all I can spare right now. Travel only by day, stay in Sanctuary every night, and don't let her out of your sight." When the assassin nodded in acknowledgement, he added, "Stay well away from the Zilar River until you get north of the delta where it flows into the Shaljir River." It was unlikely that Kiloran's power extended that far. As far as Tansen knew, the Shaljir River was still under the control of two brothers, Abidan and Liadon, neither one of whom was strong enough to control it alone.
 

"We will," Najdan said.

Tansen rose to his feet when Mirabar did. Their gazes locked in the strange light of the smoke-clouded afternoon.

"Until Zilar," she said and turned away.

"Until Zilar." He watched her go.

"Perhaps you should consider sheep, after all," Najdan mused.
 

"What?" He stared at the assassin.

Najdan shook his head. "Never mind."

 

 

Zarien sputtered with outrage as he protested to Tansen, "I'm not staying up here, on the roof of the world, with ensorcelled fires and earthquakes and attacking assassins—"

"There won't be any more assass—"

"You don't know that!"

"We're posting—"

"And that's not the point!" Zarien said. "The point is, I came all this way to find you, and I will
not
stay—"

"It isn't safe—"

"—alone here in this strange place!"

"You won't be alone," said Tansen. "I'm leaving Sister Rahilar and a number of men here."

Not wishing to be rude, Zarien lowered his voice as he said, "These are landfolk."

"So am I."

"Sharifar said—"

"Please, let's not go over this again."

Zarien fell silent, burning with frustration the way his neck still burned where the assassin had pressed a
shir
to it yesterday. Tansen stubbornly refused to accept what the goddess had told Zarien when called forth in that strange fire.
 

By the winds, my hand hurts!

Sister Rahilar had dressed it for him, and her burnt offerings and strange chanting had actually made it feel better for a while, but now it was bothering him again. He should have made one of those Guardians retrieve the
stahra
from their damned fire, but everything was so confusing, so terrifying once that earthquake started, he had reached into the flames without thinking.

"I will not be left here," Zarien said.

"I'm not leaving you here permanently." Tansen's voice was getting edgy with irritation.
 

"You're not leaving me here at a—"

"Enough!" Tansen rose to his feet. "You will stay here. I will either send for you or come back for you. That's the way it will be, Zarien."

Heart pounding, Zarien rose to his feet, too, and looked up into the warrior's dark eyes. "Or?" he challenged.

Tansen lifted one brow. "Or I will never, under any circumstances, no matter what, go to sea with you."

Zarien's jaw dropped. "But—but—"

"Be polite to the Sister while I'm gone and let her help your feet get better. Understood?"

Zarien studied his face, trying to determine if he really meant it, if Tansen could really be that stubborn, inflexible, and willful.

Stay in the current you have found.

"This is for the best," Tansen assured him. "Trust me."

Follow him until you cannot
.

"Zarien?"

He realized Tansen was awaiting an answer. "Um..."

Tansen sighed. "I know this is a pointless—even foolish—thing to say to someone your age, but... Do as you're told, all right?"

"Where are you going?" Zarien asked.

"Oh, to make new enemies." Tansen smiled wryly. "It's what I do best. Winning friends... That was what Josarian did best."

"You miss him," Zarien said suddenly, surprised again that Tansen was so human, so like other men in some ways. It wasn't what he had expected of the legendary warrior, let alone the sea king.

Tansen nodded. "Yes, I miss him. The way you miss your brother, I am sure."

"Brothers," Zarien corrected absently. "I had two."

"Had?" Tansen asked, peering at him. "Is your family—"

"I mean," he said quickly, "Morven and Orman. Two. When I was at sea."

He wasn't going to tell Tansen the rest. It was his private shame, and not one he cared to expose to Tansen, second only to Josarian in glory and greatness.

Tansen slapped Zarien on the back. "Two brothers? That's good fortune. And your family will be happy to see you alive again."

"Yes." Zarien added, "But I'll be banished, even so."

Tansen frowned. "Maybe not, under the circumstances."

It was his own secret hope, but he said bravely, "There has never been an exception. The sea-bound never even speak the name of someone who has gone ashore."

"I'll talk to them."

BOOK: The White Dragon
5.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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