In Legend Born

by Laura Resnick

  With the thousand-year-old feud between the Society and the Guardians now in a state of truce, the Guardians were braving death at the hands of the Valdani to descend from their remote hiding places and spread the word among the shallaheen. As Elelar herself had seen, sometimes a message from the Otherworld convinced people in a way that no amount of rational argument could. Meanwhile, the Society was helping Josarian's men finance and feed the growing rebel movement by teaching them the fine art of abduction. The Alliance, with its many connections, was able to provide them with reliable information on the location, habits, and finances of dozens of wealthy Valdani aristocrats, unpatriotic Silerian merchants, and toreni.

  There were problems, of course. Unlike Josarian, the Society did nothing without considering the profit involved. They wanted to keep a substantial percentage of every ransom they helped Josarian collect. The new partnership had already nearly fallen apart over this. Moreover, as the rebellion spread from Josarian's native ground and expanded into less familiar territory, they encountered more risk of betrayal and a greater need to buy silence. Elelar had tried to explain to Josarian that loyalty could be expensive. It was another fruitless conversation, and she gave up before long.

  However, the summer had not been without its amusements. Toren Porsall had paid the ransom for his wife within a few days of her capture, yet at least twenty more days went by with still no sign of her. Sneaking into Zilar for a meeting, Tansen had wryly explained to Elelar that they'd chosen an easy target for their first abduction: the woman was lovers with Josarian's cousin and had readily agreed when Zimran asked if she would help him get a ransom payment out of her husband. Zimran took her to some assassin's comfortable home in the mountains, and the woman was enjoying her abduction with him so much that the rebels were having considerable trouble convincing her to go back home.

  Now Toren Emmeran, one of Ronall's shiftless, aimless friends, had apparently become a patriot after seventeen days of Josarian's companionship. He had defied Outlookers during interrogation and had even recently notified Josarian about the arrival of a Valdani tribute collector at his estate.

  Best of all, Josarian had dealt a crippling blow to Valdani morale in Adalian by attacking the Outlooker brothel there. Upon receiving the news two days ago, Borell had sputtered as if he might have a seizure. It had taken all of Elelar's self-control not to burst out laughing when he reported the news to her, his face red with outrage. She might dislike Josarian, but she had to admit he was a brilliant rebel leader. The brothel had been an easy target, yet its loss had thrown the Outlookers into an uproar. Moreover, Josarian was sending the enslaved women of the brothel back to the Moorlands on a ship secretly provided by the Alliance. A realistic woman, Elelar sadly wondered if anything better than disgrace and poverty awaited them at home. However, it was a gesture which would be appreciated by the Moorlanders, and that was important. For even if this improbable alliance of Sileria's disparate factions now came to pass, the island nation would need allies on the mainland.

  Hence, Elelar's unexpected visit to Ambassador Shiraj today. Borell had unwittingly told her how Sileria's interests could best be served in Kinto now. Destiny had taken a hand. Now all the months she had discreetly cultivated Shiraj's acquaintance might pay off beyond her wildest dreams.

  The sun was lowering over Darshon as she dismounted before Shiraj's villa. Even when uninvited, a torena was never kept waiting outside; a servant showed Elelar into an airy, breeze-cooled room furnished with exotic Kintish finery, then went to fetch the Ambassador. Shiraj's wife had never come to Sileria, preferring to stay at the Palace of Heaven and guard her husband's back there. His mistress, a first-level Kintish courtesan, was undoubtedly here with him, but the woman was a professional who would know better than to make a scene because Shiraj's occasional Silerian lover had just walked boldly into the house.

  As expected, Shiraj appeared almost immediately to greet her. A Kintish aristocrat who had survived twenty years of scheming and plotting around the Throne of Heaven did not readily show his emotions, but Elelar didn't doubt he was very surprised to see her. Sneaking into his house in Shaljir occasionally was one thing, but leaving Borell's side to come to Shiraj's summer home was risky; it would be much harder for her to come up with an innocent explanation should news of this meeting ever reach Borell's ears. Of course, what Shiraj didn't yet realize was that infidelity would be the convenient excuse Elelar used to conceal her real reason for coming here today, should excuses ever become necessary.

  "Torena," Shiraj said. "What an unexpected pleasure."

  He smiled and came forward to greet her. His dark almond eyes glinted with pleasure and curiosity when she rose to kiss him. His olive skin was dark from the summer sun, glowing with good health. He hadn't covered his blue-black hair with a turban today, so she caressed it lightly with her fingers. She couldn't claim to be fond of him; she didn't know him that well. But he was intelligent, considerate, and even handsome. She supposed that if she gave it much thought, she would like him.

  He returned her kiss delicately. A very different man from Borell, who usually greeted her with voracious hunger after only a few days' absence. And very different from Tansen, who probably wanted her as much as either man, but who had rejected her overtures before Kandahar. But then, these men had been shaped by wealth, privilege, and power, whereas Tansen had been shaped by bitter poverty, grief, shame, pride, vengeance, and courage; the same forces which had shaped Sileria. Like the land itself, his life had made him hard, fierce, and resilient in ways Shiraj and Borell could never understand, let alone emulate.

  Shiraj took one of her hands in his and said tactfully, "I am honored by your visit, torena, but I'm afraid that I am not alone here." Meaning his Kintish mistress was here with him, as she had supposed.

  "I understand." She smiled and sat back down, urging him to join her. "However, I came for another reason today."

  His brows lifted with interest, for there had never been anything but sex between them before. "Oh?"

  "The time has come to tell you a little more about myself than I had originally intended," she began. Without risking anyone else's safety, she told him about the Alliance and her part in it, coolly explaining the reasons for her marriage to Ronall and her liaison with Borell.

  Shiraj studied her with a carefully masked expression which revealed nothing of his thoughts or reactions. It suddenly reminded her of Tansen; a very un-Silerian habit he had learned during his years in Kinto, apparently.

  Shiraj finally said, "I'm flattered by your trust, torena, and intrigued by this information. Naturally, as the High King's Ambassador, I was aware of the existence of some underground anti-Valdani activities in Sileria, though..." He shrugged gracefully, too polite to say that the Palace of Heaven did not concern itself with the activities of a few Silerian malcontents. "Since you have been so forthright with me, I will say plainly that we have watched this growing mountain rebellion with interest." He paused. "However, my dear, if you've come here to solicit our support—"

  "I haven't," she said smoothly. "I've come to offer our friendship."

  Suspicion glinted subtly in his eyes. "In exchange for what?"

  She smiled. "In exchange for your friendship."

  "Is that all?"

  "As proof of our friendship, I bring you information which has come to Advisor Borell directly from the Imperial Council in Valda."

  He didn't bother to conceal his surprise. "Go on."

  She gave him the weapon, praying that she was acting wisely.

  "The Emperor and the Imperial Council have decided that the time has come for Valdania to move against the Palace of Heaven and destroy the remaining Kintish Kingdoms, incorporating them into the Empire. To this end, they are committing the entire might of their armies east of the Moorlands."

  He shook his head. "They can't do that. They have territories to hold, conquered lands to secure, borders to—"

  "They are doing it," she said. "The Empire's Out
lookers will hold the conquered territories and patrol the Empire's borders while the imperial armies march into the Kintish Kingdoms."

  "Outlookers?" he said contemptuously. "They can't even hold Sileria anymore."

  "The Imperial Council doesn't know that. Borell and Commander Koroll have minimized the scope of the rebellion here in all their dispatches to Valda. The Emperor thinks the situation here is under control."

  He leaned forward. "Why are you telling me all this? What do you gain?"

  How refreshing it was to deal with a man who assumed she wanted more than just the privilege of serving him. She met his gaze squarely. "If Kinto falls, we all go down. The free Moorlands won't last another decade. The rebellion in Sileria will die with Josarian. The Palace of Heaven and all its ancient power will be used by the Valdani to subjugate the entire world." Seeing his hesitation, she added, "Borell has bragged to me about it! He and the High Commander of Sileria have talked about it right in front of me, Shiraj."

  "But this is still Sileria. How can you know so much before our own spies in Valda?" he argued, but she could see that she nearly had him.

  "Borell has no secrets from me, not even those that he tries to keep. He is advised of every decision in Valda which could possibly affect Sileria. Dispatches have come this summer explaining why there are delays in sending more men here to fight the mountain bandits, why Borell must increase taxes, why Koroll must be more efficient in collecting them."

  "To help pay for the coming war against Kinto?" Shiraj murmured, frowning in thought.

  "The Valdani believe the Kingdoms will crumble under the pressure because the High King is old and ill, and even if the Kints would accept a woman as his heir—"

  "The princess is..." He cleared his throat.

  "They say she's mad." Elelar studied him. "You must have known—you must have all known—how precarious the union of the Kingdoms is with the future of the Throne of Heaven so uncertain."

  "Valdania's armies are over-extended in the Moorlands, sustaining heavy losses there. We thought we were safe as long as the Moorlands held out."

  "The Valdani are a race who feed on their own hungers. There will never be enough land, enough people, enough wealth, enough wars to satisfy them," Elelar said fiercely. "They have seen your weakness and are coming to devour you."

  Shiraj looked older suddenly, the weight of responsibility resting heavily on him. "War," he said pensively. "With Valdania." He sighed and admitted, as if he had forgotten her presence, "I don't think we'll survive."

  She kept her voice from betraying her eagerness. "But you will fight?"

  "Oh, yes. The one thing that unites the Kingdoms like nothing else is the threat of Valdani conquest. We will fight." He nodded slowly. "The one thing we have always known is that someday we would have to fight Valdania. We just..."

  "What?"

  He smiled sadly. "We just all hoped to die of old-age long before it finally came to pass."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tansen had grown used to Cheylan's demon eyes as the sun-stunned days of summer passed, but he didn't think he'd ever be at ease with the man. Not because of those fire-hot eyes, though they could be unsettling, but because of Cheylan's personality. He was a man whose moods and actions were as unpredictable as they were inexplicable. His power was extraordinary, his position among the Guardians was one of trust and respect, and his courage in facing Verlon to get the bloodvow rescinded was undeniable... but Tansen didn't like him. Too many of Cheylan's comments seemed vaguely double-edged, as if he laughed at his own allies even while he assisted them. His fine-featured face seemed to express contempt or private amusement on too many occasions. There was something about him that didn't seem entirely trustworthy, despite the risks he took for the rebellion, and despite the fire and strength he pledged to their cause.

  No one knew why Verlon wanted Cheylan dead, and Cheylan declined to discuss it. Since this so closely mirrored Tansen's own situation with Kiloran, he could appreciate Cheylan's desire for privacy. Nonetheless, Tansen couldn't help wondering about the past that Cheylan and Verlon shared. When Verlon had met with the rebels and rescinded the bloodvow, Tansen—though he couldn't say exactly why—had come away with a feeling that Cheylan and Verlon knew each other much better than anyone realized.

  However, Tansen was reluctant to express his uneasiness to anyone else. He was well aware that old prejudices might be clouding his judgment. Cheylan was a toren, after all, and they were different. Elelar always had two meanings for every sentence, three plans for every situation, and five reasons for every action. Perhaps it was just bred into the toreni to be subtle and slippery, as well as arrogant.

  Childhood superstitions lingered in Tansen's heart, too, more powerful than they should be. Sometimes, if he caught a flash of those flame-gold eyes in the dark, if his mind was wandering or if he awoke suddenly, his hands reached for his swords before he realized what he was doing. Cheylan had noticed, and Tan had a feeling that the Guardian despised him for it. Tansen had once tried apologizing for the instinctive reaction, but the apology had only made things worse. Cheylan also seemed to despise anyone who acknowledged a mistake.

  They had spent the summer traveling through the eastern mountains, gathering support for the rebellion, strengthening old alliances, forming new ones, and ending old enmities. The combined strength and conviction of the Society, the Guardians, and the shallaheen, along with Josarian's growing legend, served their cause well. A bloodfeud begun by one lone peasant had now become a true rebellion, with a scattered army whose strength numbered in the thousands. Several successful attacks on Outlooker targets in the district of Liron had drawn even more shallaheen, waterlords, assassins, and Guardians into their ranks. Leaving Emelen, Cheylan, and a high-ranking assassin of Baran's behind to continue the good work, Tansen now traveled back to Dalishar to report to Josarian.

  He had met with Elelar two days ago, prior to heading west into the mountains. She had passed most of the summer living openly with Advisor Borell, the most important Valdan in Sileria. Tansen didn't ask, but he couldn't help wondering what manner of man her husband was, that he tolerated such behavior in his wife. Tansen knew by now why she slept with Borell, of course. As a result of her relationship with the Imperial Advisor, there seemed to be nothing that Borell knew which Elelar could not find out. Now she had news that confirmed the visions the demon girl had spoken of at Kandahar, the prophecy that Armian's shade served: Valdania and Kinto were about to fight an all-out war, the Kintish Kingdoms resisting the Empire's attempt to crush them at last after centuries of awaiting the right opportunity.

  "Valdania's armies will be fully committed to the wars in Kinto and the Moorlands, with Outlookers left to hold the rest of the Empire." Elelar's voice had been rich with promise. "The Valdani won't have enough weapons, men, and money available to suppress a full-scale rebellion in Sileria."

  She had gripped his forearm in her excitement, the soft unscarred palm of a torena pressing against his skin. She had whispered to him like a lover, "There will never be a better time."

  So now, at summer's end, he returned to Josarian's side to share the information and make new plans. Elelar had been ordered to return unfashionably early to Shaljir, before the northern winds had finished cooling the summer-baked city. She was needed there to act as a link between Josarian and the Alliance as they gathered support and information for the rebellion's boldest move yet. Tansen approved the Alliance's new plan, and he believed that Josarian, the Society, and even the Guardians would, too. After the Empire entered into its first violent engagement with the Kintish Kingdoms and became irrevocably committed to the war there, then the Silerian rebels would strike a blow that would be felt in Valda itself.

  Camped deep in the mountains south of Britar, Zimran relieved Lann in the empty hours of the night, taking over the sentry duty as the others slept. Clumsy as the Outlookers were, they had nonetheless raided a rebel camp four days ago, killing nine people—including
two Guardians. So much for the Otherworld, Zim thought; he didn't see much point in communing with shades of the dead if they didn't bother to mention that you were about to become one of them.

  Mirabar had wanted to put a ring of protective fire around the camp's perimeter tonight. Zimran thought few things were more likely to attract Outlookers than a vast circle of magic fire blazing away in the middle of the night, but it was actually Najdan who had talked her out of it, convincing her that good vigilance would suffice. Zimran tried to picture Amitan's description of how the assassin and the demon girl had met, but he couldn't really; by the time Zimran had joined up with them, Najdan had become—at Kiloran's order—Mirabar's constant shadow.

  Mirabar... well, she wasn't a bad girl, really, not once you got used to her. Zimran could think of women he'd rather be spending his days and nights with—a brief memory of the "abduction" of Porsall's wife made him smile—but he didn't really mind Mirabar. Recuperating in Cheylan's camp after escaping from the fortress at Britar months ago had taught him that superstitions about demons, like all other superstitions, were just children's nonsense. Admittedly, Mirabar was even stranger looking than Cheylan. That hair... Lann had practically fallen to his knees and started praying when Josarian had first brought her back to Dalishar to meet them.

  Josarian had told them all incredible tales about journeying to Shaljir, meeting with a torena who had introduced him to something called the Alliance, going to Zilar to meet Kiloran's son Srijan, and finally finding Kiloran himself. The story of that night strained Zimran's credulity: a palace of water beneath the surface of Lake Kandahar, a ball of fire plunging through the water and turning into a girl, the shade of Armian greeting them from the Otherworld, prophecies of destiny and freedom... The other men at Dalishar had swallowed it whole, though, letting this wild tale slide down as smoothly as ripe summer melon.