In Legend Born

by Laura Resnick

  "He loved you," she said. "That remains within his shade."

  Tansen was silent, frustrated by her answer but unwilling to plead for a better one.

  She seemed to know this. "I'm sorry, Tansen. Forgiveness was evidently not in his nature, and it's not in his shade. So I just don't know."

  "Can you ask him?" He was ashamed, couldn't imagine why he was doing this, but he had to know. "Next time you—"

  "I don't think there'll be a next time."

  That stopped him. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he's not needed anymore, and so the link between us seems to have been dissolved. He has accomplished what he was sent to achieve. The Society, the Guardians, you, me, the shallaheen, the Alliance... We are together now. We've started a war. More people will join us, or not, for their own reasons, but not because of Armian."

  "So that's it?"

  "I think so."

  I'll never see him again.

  Darfire, he hadn't even wanted to see him in the first place!

  But he had loved Armian, despite everything, and some foolish, weak part of him had lately seized on the notion that he might see him again—and perhaps be forgiven.

  "I'll never see him again." Tansen was appalled to hear himself say it aloud. And to a woman. But this woman, he acknowledged, had already known what he was thinking. This woman knew what Armian knew.

  She said, "Not unless you can get his shir back from Kiloran and bring it to me close to the anniversary of his death."

  "Of course. I'll just ask Kiloran for it when we meet in Idalar," he said dryly.

  Her smile was wry. "He hasn't forgiven you, of course."

  "He hasn't forgiven the Sister who spanked him when he was born."

  She laughed at that. He wasn't sure, but he thought it was the first time he'd ever heard her laugh.

  Realizing that she must be very tired and eager to retire, he thought he'd better find out why she had come here. So he asked.

  She sobered instantly. "There's finally news from Shaljir. It's very bad."

  Elelar is dead.

  He couldn't even breathe. "Go on." His voice was tight and hard.

  "The torena is in prison. The house has been ransacked. It's not certain how much the Outlookers know, but they've obviously learned enough to arrest the wife of a Valdan."

  "Half-Valdan," he said absently, hearing the relieved pounding of his own heart. Would Elelar freeze with horror if news of his death were brought to her? Hah! He'd be a fool to hope so. "How did you learn this?"

  "Derlen. He, his young son, and the servants who worked with Elelar were in the house when the Outlookers began searching it. They escaped." She fixed him with an interested stare. "They fled into underground tunnels that you apparently know all about."

  "Did Derlen tell you what they found down there?" he asked carefully.

  "Beyah-Olvari." Seeing the confirmation in his expression, she breathed, "So it's true."

  "You doubted him?"

  She shrugged. "Well, no one could be less given to flights of imagination than Derlen... But it sounded so incredible."

  "Josarian knows, too, but no one else. We must protect them for now."

  She nodded, understanding. "Derlen and the others stayed in the tunnels for many days. The torena was arrested and imprisoned upon entering Shaljir, before anyone could warn her. Then the Alliance in Shaljir ceased all activity while they tried to determine who else was being watched. The Outlookers searched the city high and low for Derlen and the others, and no one could leave by the city gates or the port without a thorough search and interrogation." She smiled as she added, "They finally disguised Derlen and his boy as sea-born, so he could escape Shaljir on a fishing boat."

  "They've tattooed him?" It was a custom the sea-born folk had adopted from the Moorlanders many centuries ago.

  "No, just painted him. He found it humiliating, nonetheless. Derlen's dignity is very important to him." She clearly enjoyed the image of Derlen covered in fake tattoos. "Anyhow, he sought me as soon as he was free and back on land."

  "Elelar was definitely still alive when Derlen left Shaljir?" Mirabar would have told him if Derlen had said otherwise, but he had to be sure.

  "Yes."

  "Why?" he asked. "If the Valdani know—"

  "Her husband's family have requested a trial. Apparently this means exchanging dispatches with the Imperial Council and, if the request is granted, sending Elelar to Valda."

  "Her husband's family?"

  "Perhaps she convinced her husband she was innocent," Mirabar said. "I have observed that men's brains often go numb in the torena's presence."

  "True enough." He decided not to wonder—let alone ask—if she included him in that observation. "But surely that would only increase Borell's interest in killing her. He can't afford a trial. It would expose him, too."

  "The husband's family knows it. They're evidently prepared to charge Borell with Elelar's murder should anything happen to her before her trial—if she's granted one."

  "And if she is denied a trial?"

  Mirabar hesitated before saying in a subdued voice, "It's assumed she'll be interrogated and executed."

  Tansen had expected this answer, but even so, his blood ran cold at the thought of what Elelar's captors would do to her. "Where is she being held?"

  "The old Kintish prison in Shaljir, across from Outlooker headquarters." Mirabar paused, then said, "The rebels can't attack Shaljir, Tansen. We're not ready."

  "I know."

  An expression of dread spread slowly across her face. "You can't free her. You must know that. No man could—"

  "I'm a shatai," he said tersely. "I can do what other men can't."

  "Your brain is useless, too, where she's concerned," Mirabar said angrily. As Tansen rose to his feet, she added, "Come back here!" She jumped up and followed him as he walked away. "This isn't settled!"

  "Yes, it is."

  "What are you going to do?" she demanded.

  "Leave."

  "Right now?"

  He met her gaze. "You didn't really think I'd just go to sleep and hope for the best, did you?"

  "You're going to Shaljir?"

  "By way of Idalar. Josarian will be there, meeting with Kiloran. He expects me to be there, too."

  "Tansen..." She obviously tried to control her temper and reason with him. "You know better than to risk everything for a personal—"

  "It isn't personal," he lied. "Elelar is too valuable to leave rotting in a Valdani prison. Josarian wouldn't leave his friends to die in prison at Britar, and I won't leave one of the most important assets of the rebellion in prison in Shaljir until Borell and Koroll think it's safe to slaughter her."

  "You have responsibilities that—"

  "I decide my responsibilities, sirana." He suddenly recalled Josarian once saying something similar to Elelar.

  He left Mirabar cursing under the stars as he stalked into a cave to gather his things. When Lann awoke, he told him he was restless and would leave tonight for Idalar. His tone prohibited argument.

  Back outside, Mirabar stood waiting for him, her satchel slung over her shoulder.

  "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

  "With you."

  "No," he said firmly. "I don't need a nagging woman on my back from here to Idalar."

  She gritted her teeth. "I am a Guardian of the Otherworld, gifted by Dar Herself, blessed with visions of prophecy, and you should be a little more respectful."

  "You won't be able to talk me out of this," he said. "You and Josarian together won't be able to talk me out of this."

  "Then I'm apparently doomed to help you."

  "I don't want your—"

  "I don't care what you want. I risked my life searching half of Sileria for you. I'm not about to hand you over to the Otherworld until you've finished your work in this one!"

  "Najdan won't like this," he warned her. The assassin who guarded Mirabar's safety took his role very seriously.


  "Najdan will catch up with me later."

  Tansen made one last effort to get rid of her. "Descending Niran in the dark is dangerous. And I won't help you or hold your hand."

  She glared at him. "Haven't you heard? Demons can see in the dark."

  Chapter Thirty

  "You knew?" Tansen snarled at Josarian. "You knew, and you didn't send a runner to Mount Niran?"

  Josarian made a helpless gesture, his expression softened by a pity that infuriated Tansen. "Faradar says Elelar was seized just before the twin-moon. The Valdani surely killed her long before Faradar finally found us at Dalish—"

  "Derlen has recently escaped from Shaljir with news that Elelar is still alive."

  Josarian's face revealed his astonishment. "Why?"

  Tansen briefly explained what Mirabar had related to him. They were staying in Kiloran's camp near Idalar. The country around here was swarming with Outlookers, but the camp was well protected by shallaheen, assassins, and water magic. Since it behooved the rebel leaders to keep their meetings secret, the information they'd leaked to the Outlookers suggested that Tansen was somewhere in the west, Josarian was still at Dalishar, and Kiloran was near Alizar.

  "Alive," Josarian said at last. "Tan... we cannot attack Shaljir. Not yet."

  "Have I asked you to?"

  "You're going anyhow, aren't you?"

  "Yes." And he'd knock Josarian unconscious if he tried to stop him.

  He should have known better.

  "I'll come with you," Josarian said.

  Damn. "No."

  "You came with me to Britar."

  "This is different."

  "Not that different."

  "Times have changed," said Tansen.

  "You mustn't go al—"

  Someone said, "I'll go with him."

  They both whirled to confront the man who had intruded on their conversation. Josarian relaxed when he saw it was his cousin. Tansen eyed Zimran without trust or favor.

  "No, I'll go," Josarian said. "It is a brother's du—"

  "You've got to work on the lowlanders," Tansen reminded him. "We need them, and they're stalling."

  "When we get back," Josarian assured him.

  "You're not coming with me," Tansen insisted. "You're too important to risk in a jailbreak in Shaljir."

  "So are you, but you're going," said his brother.

  He knew that Josarian knew it wasn't a decision based on loyalty to an ally. Unlike Mirabar, though, Josarian didn't criticize him for letting his head be ruled by... something else. Darfire, that girl had a tongue like a shir! And she had cut him with it all the way from Niran to Idalar. She thought she was coming to Shaljir with him, too, but he'd slit his own throat before he'd put up with her and Elelar at the same time. Besides, this was going to be tricky enough without trying to sneak the most easily-identified rebel in Sileria through the city gates. The Valdani had a description of Mirabar, and there was no denying how much she stood out in a crowd.

  Cooling his temper, Tansen said to Josarian, "You and I can't both go, and you know it."

  Josarian started to argue, but Zimran interrupted him.

  "Tansen is right," he said. "So I will go in your place, Josarian, as is my duty, since we are blood, too. By birth."

  Tansen ignored the less-than-subtle posturing. He was Josarian's closest living male relative now, and Zimran knew it. He wasn't going to lower himself by jousting about it.

  Moved by Zimran's gesture and wholly unsuspicious of its motives, Josarian swallowed hard, agreed to the plan, and embraced his cousin. Tansen tried not to roll his eyes. However, he realized he was hardly in a position to question or ridicule Zimran's motives for going to Shaljir. He didn't want Zim's company, but he supposed that he might need some help for this reckless scheme. At least this way, he wouldn't have to waste any more precious time arguing with Josarian.

  "I'll need a woman with me, too," he said. "But not Mirabar."

  "Faradar will want to go," Josarian said.

  "Then she'll need to get ready right now. I'm not staying."

  "Zim," Josarian said. "Will you go tell her?"

  After Zimran had left them alone, Tansen realized there was something else he needed to tell Josarian. Something that he was ashamed he had scarcely thought about since learning of Elelar's capture: Amitan.

  Josarian had grown up with Amitan, had been fond of him, and had used the full powers of his persuasion to bring his boyhood friend into the bloodfeud. He would take this news hard.

  Tansen said to him, "Before I go, there's something I must tell you..."

  Mirabar fumed for more than a day about Tansen leaving her behind at Idalar. Josarian had delivered the stern and unyielding orders that she was to remain with him until given new instructions, but she knew that the shatai had made him do it. And it infuriated her. She had risked everything, left her circle of companions, and braved Kiloran's wrath alone to find Tansen and unravel the mystery of his—and Sileria's—destiny. She knew he wasn't supposed to die yet, but now he was risking everything for that woman.

  There was no denying that the torena was fully devoted to the cause, but Mirabar detested her all the same: so smug, so superior, so arrogant. So manipulative. Some men couldn't see past her allure and fell completely under her spell. It might be helpful to the rebellion when Elelar used her talents to entrap the roshaheen, but it was disgusting when she did it to her own kind. Tansen, Mirabar had realized, knew precisely what that woman was, yet even he gave into her wiles. He was worse than the other fools! He knew better, yet he couldn't stay free of the torena's web, even so.

  Now it seemed that Elelar had lost control of one of her spells. According to Derlen, Borell's rage was reputed to be more personal than political, for he had believed that Elelar was in love with him. He had even intended to marry her. Mirabar might be a stranger to the dance between man and woman, but she nonetheless knew how much a man hated to be made a fool of by a woman. Especially the woman who slept in his bed. By the time the Alliance had found an escape route for Derlen, the rumor was apparently all over Shaljir that Borell had raped and beaten the torena upon arresting her. It was so widely known because he'd been indiscreet enough to assault her in the guardhouse of one of the city's busiest gates.

  Mirabar shuddered with revulsion, part of her full of pity for the torena and an empathetic rage at the Advisor. This was how men dealt with their female enemies. It was as humiliating and debasing as it was painful. Mirabar might loathe the torena, but she nonetheless wished she could incinerate Borell's parts for what he had done to the woman. In the mountains, bloodvows were sworn for such an offense, and bloodfeuds began over such an outrage. However, Mirabar doubted that Elelar's Valdani relations-by-marriage would slay Borell as he deserved. What a pity.

  Naturally, she hadn't told Tansen about this. She'd already known how much she risked even in telling him about Elelar's imprisonment. She had wanted to be the one to inform him of the torena's capture so that she'd also have a chance to try to stop the insane thing she knew he'd want to do upon hearing the news. If she had told him about Borell, too... There was no telling what Tansen would do. Borell deserved to suffer for what he had done to Elelar after arresting her, but Mirabar didn't intend to lose a prophesied warrior by encouraging him to break into Santorell Palace to fulfill a bloodvow.

  If Tansen actually succeeded in getting the torena out of prison, Mirabar hoped that Elelar had the wit to keep her mouth shut about Borell, at least until they were safely away from Shaljir and it was too late for Tansen to turn back.

  Here at Idalar, there were important matters to occupy Mirabar while she worried about what would happen in Shaljir. To her surprise, Kiloran had convinced representatives from the major clans among the lowlanders of the western and central districts of Sileria to meet with Josarian. They'd been brought here by assassins, who had blindfolded them while escorting them to Kiloran's camp, lest any of them consider betraying rather than joining the rebellion. Even
more surprising—astonishing, in truth—was the arrival of ten leaders of the sea-born folk.

  Having never been to the coast, Mirabar had never before seen the sea-born, since they rarely ventured inland. Indeed, many of them never even left their boats. Sea-born folk might go their whole lives without ever once setting foot on dry land. Mirabar repressed a shudder; her experiences at Lake Kandahar had given her a general distaste for large bodies of water. However, the sea-born were, for Silerians, relatively free of the influence of Kiloran and the Society. The waterlords had no power over the sea, a domain ruled solely by the powerful gods worshipped by the sea-born folk.

  Fascinated by their exotic appearance, Mirabar studied them with unconcealed curiosity. The sea-born studied her in turn, for they, too, had heard about her. Unlike the shallaheen, however, they hadn't been raised to fear someone like her, so their gazes merely revealed interest.

  The lowlanders and the sea-born folk were enthused about the destruction of Alizar, where many of their own kind, too, had been imprisoned over the centuries. They were impressed by the rebellion's control of the territory all around Dalishar and properly respectful of the rebels' daily attacks on Valdani targets. Yes, they knew that the imperial military forces were over-extended on the mainland and therefore couldn't send the amount of men, money, and supplies they would have sent to Sileria only a year ago, had the rebellion begun then. However... They also suspected that an Outlooker force which the greatest empire in history might consider barely sufficient could nonetheless be a greater force than the rebels of one long-impoverished imperial province could ultimately vanquish.

  True, they admitted, all of Sileria was in turmoil now. There were riots in every city except Shaljir, and additional Outlookers were arriving slowly. However... The Empire would fight hard to keep Sileria, because possession of the vast island nation was essential for control of the Middle Sea. The Valdani may have grown careless and overconfident, but they knew how important Sileria was to the Empire and would strive to keep it once they began to truly fear losing it.

  "So why are you here?" Mirabar asked irritably, bored after listening to too much of this sort of thing and tired of struggling with common Silerian, a language she seldom needed in the mountains.