The White Dragon (84 page)

"No, Haydar," Mirabar said softly. "I didn't make him—"

"He did it for you!"

"He did it because it was right," said Mirabar.

"No. It was because Kiloran ordered him to kill you, and he could not do it."
 

And they all knew it wasn't because Najdan was afraid.

"Then surely," Mirabar said, "it was Kiloran who caused his betrayal."

"Najdan served Kiloran loyally for twenty years." Haydar grasped Mirabar's wrist with a strong, work-roughened hand and demanded, "Do you think he'd have betrayed his master for anyone but you?"

"It is Dar who—"

"He doesn't care about Dar! He serves you, not the goddess."

Wondering if there had perhaps been a huge misunderstanding, Mirabar said, "But he loves you, Haydar. There's no question of... um..."

"I don't fear you as a woman," Haydar snapped. "You're young enough to be his daughter."

"That has never mattered to any man of my acquaintance." Basimar's tone was laced with uncharacteristic cynicism.

"Be quiet," Mirabar told her.

Haydar glanced at Basimar. "He's the most honorable man I've ever known."

"He's an assassin," Basimar protested.

Mirabar kicked her and said, more forcefully this time, "Be quiet."

"He loves me." Calmer now, Haydar let go of Mirabar's wrist. "I have never doubted his love."

Basimar's eyes clouded and she looked down at her plate. Mirabar felt a sharp stab of envy, too. Haydar spoke with simple, warm confidence. She sounded like a woman who'd always been given every reason to know that she was loved—steadfastly and exclusively.

Haydar sighed. "But he has betrayed Kiloran, and he will die for it. For you. Very soon. Kiloran will not let such a deep insult go unpunished for long."

"Tansen will destroy Kiloran," Mirabar said.

"How can he?" Haydar asked quietly. "How can anyone destroy Kiloran?"

"He will," Mirabar insisted, feeling her stomach churning again. She pushed away her plate, leaving the food untouched.

"Since the day Najdan paid my father a bride price and took me to live with him near Lake Kandahar, I have learned many times over that no one can challenge Kiloran and live."

There seemed little to say in response to this. The Firebringer himself had died for challenging Kiloran, just like everyone else who had ever done so.

Almost
everyone else.

"What about Baran?" Mirabar asked suddenly.

Haydar shrugged. "Yes, it's true, he has lasted a long time."

Mirabar nodded. "We
must
make him our ally."

Sister Basimar looked at her thoughtfully. "He did side with Josarian against Kiloran."

"But the Firebringer is dead," Haydar said. "And Baran has always been as shrewd as he is mad."

"Yes, I've met him," Mirabar said. "It's a very unsettling combination."

"He knows too much to become your ally now," Haydar said with certainty. "He will never believe that Tansen can win, not with Josarian dead and Kiloran already in control of Cavasar."

"If I could make him believe in the coming of the Yahrdan, in the visions of—"

"He's a waterlord," Haydar said. "This vision will not attract him."

Mirabar remembered Tansen's words with regard to Baran:
Do whatever you have to.

What could she do? If Baran didn't want to join them, what would convince him to change his mind?
 

And how, she wondered wearily, could she ever be sure Baran was sincere, that whatever he might say or promise was at all reliable?
 

She sat slumped in her chair, worrying until her head ached. Baran. Tashinar. Kiloran. Elelar. Tansen. Zarien, his watery goddess, and his search for the sea king. The Beckoner. Cheylan. Dar. The Firebringer. The Yahrdan. The visions...

Together, they were all a burden that was driving her to her knees.

Please, Dar, as I have been faithful and true, as I have served You with an open heart and fire in my soul... Please help me. Please lead the way. Please show me what to do.

Weary beyond bearing, yet knowing she wouldn't sleep tonight, she searched for the only comforting words she could find: "Whatever happens next, Haydar, I won't let Najdan die for me."

Haydar replied, with all the stoic resignation of a Silerian woman, "If he means to die for you, there is nothing you can do to stop him."

It rose out of the water, looming over the shallow Zilar River like some monster from a madman's worst nightmares. Tansen knew what it was even before he heard Najdan's hoarse, shocked voice utter the words: the White Dragon. A voracious creature born of a magical union between water and a wizard.

It was huge, far bigger than a Widow Beast or a dragonfish, and its fierce roar made the ground tremble with awe. It shifted and glittered beneath the brilliant light of the moons, gleaming like the blade of a
shir,
shining like the diamonds of Alizar. Its long, serpent-like neck swayed and twisted, the sharp icicles inside its great mouth snapping at its enemies. If it had eyes and ears, Tansen could not see them, so he didn't know how it had found its intended prey—the Firebringer—with such deadly accuracy.

Tansen ran forward through the shallow water, feeling its deadly chill. This was Kiloran's river now. He had given birth to this monstrous creature here in the heart of Josarian's territory.

"No!" Tansen screamed, running straight at the enormous, dripping beast, his swords drawn.

He swung at its haunches. His blade cut through pure water. He swung again, cutting, stabbing, slicing, thrusting. He circled the roaring beast, plunging through thigh-deep water, his flesh burning in a thousand places from the bitterly cold, ensorcelled droplets flying off the White Dragon. Each splash was like the touch of a
shir.
Tears streamed down his face from the pain.

"Josarian!" he howled, attacking the creature again.

An enormous claw came down and struck him. It was like being hit by a galloping horse. He flew backwards. The waters of the Zilar closed over his head as he fell. He lunged to the surface, still hanging onto his swords. The great dragon-like head lowered, following him, the hungry jaws snapping and seeking him. He swung a sword with an arm that felt heavy and numb. His blade scraped along the
shir
-like fangs. The cold breath of the beast froze his wet flesh.
 

"Tansen!" Josarian screamed.

"Josarian!" Tansen sat bolt upright, shouting his brother's name.

"What? What!
What?
" Zarien howled, flinging himself around in the dark, his voice high with panic.

Heart pounding, breath coming hard, Tansen quickly said, "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm sorry."

"What!" Zarien repeated, his voice loud enough to wake shades of the dead. "What's happening?"

Tansen heard the clatter of wood and guessed the boy was fumbling for his
stahra
in the dark chamber they shared here in Sister Shannibar's Sanctuary.

"Nothing," Tansen repeated. "Nothing. It's all right."

"It's not all right!" Zarien cried. "I... I'm..." There was a long, dark silence, punctuated only by the sound of their racing breath. "It was m..." Zarien gulped air. Tansen heard him sink to the floor. "It was more of those dreams of yours, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Don't you ever just...
sleep?
Like other people?"

"Not lately," he muttered. "Not often."

"Did you ever?" Zarien asked plaintively.

"A long time ago. When I was..." He sighed gustily. "When I was your age."

"A
long
time ago," Zarien agreed.

"Sorry I woke you."

"What do you dream about?"

Mostly about the night I murdered my bloodfather
.

No, perhaps he wouldn't share that with the child. "Things."

"That's it?" He heard outrage in the youthful voice. "That's all you're going to tell me, after scaring me half to d—"

"Josarian," he snapped.

"What?"

He sighed again. "I was dreaming about Josarian. About the night he died."

He heard Zarien draw a sharp breath. "The night Kiloran killed him."

"Yes."

"Tell me," said Zarien.

"What?"

"About the night Josarian died. About the White Dragon."

"No," Tansen said firmly. "That's not a good story for the dark." No point in
both
of them having nightmares.

"Then tell me about Josarian," Zarien persisted. "What was the Firebringer like?"

Oh, this boy could pierce the heart with such accuracy.

Tansen drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, grateful that the dark hid his expression. He made a fist with his hand, then opened it again. The
shir
wound there, gotten during the ambush he'd survived on the way to Dalishar, had started troubling him again after the attack on Abidan and Liadon. Sister Norimar had tended it for him this evening—weeping copiously the whole time over Galian's death. Tansen hadn't realized there'd been a spark between those two. Now they'd never know if there could have been flames.

So much is lost with every death. So much
.

"Tell me about Josarian," Zarien repeated. "You knew the Firebringer better than anyone, they say."

Josarian.

Think about something besides the night he died. Think about something good.

"He..." Tansen breathed away the tension, the horror of the nightmare, the pain of the memory. He closed his eyes and remembered the man whom he had taken as his brother. "He had the biggest, most generous heart of anyone I've ever known. He was... all that's good about Sileria, about the
shallaheen.
He was very brave and loyal, strong and practical, shrewd and honorable. But he was also compassionate and fair, which are not virtues taught to everyone in the mountains," Tansen admitted wryly. "Josarian treated everyone with respect, and anyone who met him responded with respect, from the poorest
shallah
to the loftiest
toren
. He..." Tansen hesitated, but then told the boy with honesty, "Perhaps he loved too much, when he loved. He couldn't get over his wife's death, and he probably never would have, if he had lived. He couldn't see the flaws in his cousin, Zimran, who betrayed him. Josarian was very wise in some ways, but terribly innocent in others."

"How did you become bloodbrothers?"

"It's late," Tansen pointed out.

"My heart has jumped out of my chest and is even now halfway to sea," Zarien replied. "I'm not going back to sleep soon."

Tansen smiled. "I'll light a candle."

"And perhaps there's some food left?"

Tansen laughed softly. "Yes, we can look."

"Good!"

So they brought light into the dark night, found something to keep Zarien from starving to death before morning, and talked. Tansen answered the boy's questions about how, after being arrested by Outlookers in Cavasar, he had first met Josarian by tracking down the mountain bandit on the pretense of killing him for the Valdani—but really, in fact, to join Josarian in harassing them.

"We became bloodbrothers the night before we attacked the Outlooker fortress at Britar, where we freed Josarian's imprisoned friends and relatives."

"I've heard that story!"

"Good, then I don't have to tell it now."

"Yes, you must!" the boy insisted. "You were
there.
"