Yorin, still in charge at Dalishar, had grown so used to the visions which appeared in the night sky there that he sometimes slept through them now. Then one night, an assassin who had come to Dalishar in disguise murdered Yorin in his sleep.
Tansen sent Pyron to take over Yorin's post—after giving him strict instructions to improve security at the sacred site. According to Pyron's somewhat hysterical first report after that, the battle for Alizar had been a more peaceful experience than dealing with the thirsty, frightened, and confused throng that daily flooded Mount Dalishar.
The city of Adalian became increasingly desperate for relief. Funeral pyres of the dead burned every day and, with too little water left to keep all the city-dwellers alive, many of them began escaping into the war-torn countryside. Tansen's attack on Gulstan had failed, and his victory against Ferolen had been short-lived, since Kariman soon thereafter assumed control of the dead waterlord's territory. If Tansen couldn't find a way to break the Society's power in the south soon, Adalian was doomed.
"If only Kiloran hadn't managed to regain Gulstan's friendship," Tansen said pensively one day as Zarien bandaged another minor battle wound for him. "If only he'd found it necessary to kill Gulstan the way he killed Dulien."
"I don't understand how Kiloran found out Dulien was betraying him," Zarien said as he expertly dressed the wound. "No one knew about Dulien besides you, Baran, and—"
"I told Kiloran."
"You
what?
"
Tansen made a dismissive gesture. "I mean, I made sure Kiloran found out. He doesn't know the information came from me, of course."
Zarien froze. "Why did you do that?"
"So Kiloran would kill him for us, of course." When the boy remained motionless, Tansen prodded, "Finish the job, would you? I have work to do."
"But Dulien... sought your friendship. And you agreed."
Tansen replied, "Dulien sought the best way to keep everything he had, and to get whatever else he could with no risk to himself—or so he thought."
Staring in dark wonder, Zarien said, "You betrayed him?"
Tansen looked at him in surprise. "He was a
waterlord
, Zarien."
"But don't you... Doesn't..."
"They all have to die," Tansen said. "Or be driven out of Sileria. We can't leave
part
of the Society alive and functioning after the war, son. Nothing would change. Within a few years, things would be just as bad as if we had fought no war at all. And thousands of lives would have been lost for no reason."
Moving slowly, his face dark with thought, Zarien returned to bandaging the wound. "Will you betray Baran, too?"
"No."
"Because he has served your cause?"
"Because betraying him would endanger Mirabar."
"And if it wouldn't?" the boy prodded.
"Baran may be demented, but he's much smarter than the rest of them. As smart as Kiloran, I think, but hot-headed and sometimes reckless." Tansen shook his head. "Anyhow, I doubt Baran would ever put himself in a position where he needed to trust me, as Dulien did. He's certainly too smart for that."
There was a long, deafening silence between them. Realizing he had shattered some of the Zarien's ideals—particularly the ones the boy cherished about
him
—he said, "What are you thinking?"
"Nothing," Zarien replied.
"If there's some—"
"I'm done." The boy finished dressing the wound, then turned away, vanishing into the general bustle of the encampment.
Tansen repressed a sigh and decided to let the subject rest for now. He had too many other things to accomplish today.
Kiloran's grip on his own territories was so secure that nothing had so far succeeded in disturbing it; and Tansen knew he could only vanquish the old waterlord by first eliminating Kiloran's additional support—the rest of the Society.
The ultimate fate of Zilar and the Shaljir river was still uncertain. Kiloran and Meriten both understood how destructive it would be to the Society if the Firebringer's loyalists achieved all-out victory there, so they still fought bitterly for it. In the east, Verlon and a few of the lesser waterlords still defended their territories more ruthlessly than the Valdani themselves had during the rebellion.
This deep into the dry season, there was no relief for the water-starved nation. The long rains were still some time away... if they came. If this was one of the occasional years in which the rains were late, sparse, or simply never arrived, then Tansen knew Sileria could not hold out against what the waterlords were doing to the land and its people.
He needed victory. Sileria needed it. Tansen knew this, and the knowledge had led him to attack Gulstan... which he now saw, with bitter regret and self-condemnation, had been a mistake. What did Kiloran always say? Mistakes were so easily made.
Too easily. Much too easily.
Tansen knew he couldn't afford any more.
He had been thinking like a
shallah
when he led the Firebringer's loyalists into battle against Gulstan, one of the Society's most powerful and ruthless waterlords—and certainly the fattest. Tansen's plan to sow dissension between Gulstan and Kiloran had failed, and he had fallen back on the simple Silerian solution of all-out violence.
Mistake.
It was time to think like a
shatai
. It was time to remember the training and education drilled into him by his
kaj
. The teachings of great Kintish swordmasters and philosophers had been distilled, over the centuries, into pure, poetic, simple lessons taught to the finest warrior caste in the three corners of the world, that they might always be the best, wherever they went, whatever challenges they faced.
It was time—past time—to be the best, as he had been taught to be.
Tansen's
kaj
had always said he was too quick to choose violence, too ready to fight. That trait, Kaja said, was the Silerian in him, the bloodthirsty
shallah
.
"A
shatai
should always win a fight," Tansen murmured, remembering what Kaja had tried to make him understand even after putting two deadly swords into his hands, "but to win
without
fighting is the pinnacle of skill."
To this wisdom, Tansen now mentally added the gift which had rarely failed him over the years:
Make them see what you want them to see
.
He needed a plan.
And he thought he had one.
If it didn't work...
Focus on the task at hand.
But if it didn't work...
I am prepared to die today. Are you?
Zarien would be orphaned again.
Tansen sighed heavily, filled with a tremendous guilt he had never before known upon risking his own life. A terrible, devouring fear crept through his blood when he thought of Zarien alone in the world, without him.
He wondered now if Armian, who had seemed so powerful, so reckless and invincible, had felt this way, too.
He wondered now, with a sudden shaft of piercing sorrow, if Armian had loved him even as Tansen murdered him.
"I can't get near Tansen, so I can't get access to the boy," Searlon reported to Kiloran as they met in Kiloran's underwater palace at Lake Kandahar. "So I'm working on a plan."
"To separate him from the boy?" Kiloran asked.
"I've come to believe that, under current circumstances, he will not leave the boy somewhere—at least, not long enough for me to locate him. Tansen is, based on what I can learn, very protective of Zarien and much attached to him."
Kiloran's blood felt cold with memory. "Is he indeed?" It wouldn't matter. Not in the end. Not with Tansen.
"However," Searlon continued, "if I can distract Tansen with an unexpected problem, perhaps I'll have a better chance of getting close to the boy."
"No matter what," Kiloran began, "the boy is very valuable and—"
"Must not be harmed. I understand,
siran
." Searlon added, "Baran still shows no interest in Zarien. He has made no effort to communicate with the boy, let alone to get him away from Tansen."
Kiloran murmured, "So Baran really doesn't know."
"As far as I can ascertain,
siran
, no one else—not even Zarien himself—knows what you, I, and a few of the surviving Lascari know about him."
"Even so, secrets are like children," Kiloran said. "No one can guard them day and night forever, and no one can predict what they will become."
"I'll find the boy," Searlon promised.
"Tell me about your plan."
"Ah!" Searlon smiled. "It comes as part of a bundle of good news I bring today, and it's a plan which should also solve certain problems in the east."
"Verlon?" The old waterlord, although still part of the Society, was quite clear by now about his uncompromising enmity for Kiloran.
Searlon shook his head. "The Lironi and their allies."
"The Lironi?" Kiloran considered this with interest. Despite his problems with Verlon, destroying the Firebringer's loyalists everywhere was indeed still his primary concern. "So your plan will leave Verlon unchallenged in the east?"
Searlon shook his head. "Not quite,
siran
. I have discovered that Verlon has a burden we didn't even know about, one which I wouldn't wish on anyone." When Kiloran gave him a quizzical look, Searlon grinned, the scar on his cheek flowing into a dimple. "Verlon," he said, "has an ambitious heir."
Kiloran laughed and realized how much he had missed Searlon.
"The news gets even better,
siran
."
"Oh?"
The assassin helped himself to a modest quantity of Kintish fire brandy as he continued, "I've finally found someone who's willing to betray Mirabar. Someone ready to offer us friendship."
Kiloran accepted the brandy which Searlon offered him, too, and said, "In truth, it's probably worth almost any price at this point, but I feel obliged to ask, nonetheless: What will this friendship cost us?"
"Nothing we can't afford,
siran
," Searlon assured him. "And our investment in it should reap many profits."
Emperor Jarell sent warnings to the temporary government in Shaljir: The killing of Silerian-born Valdani must cease, or there would be reprisals from the mainland.
The imperial warnings inspired horrified alarm among the leaders of the Alliance, who sent appeasing replies back to the mainland. However, no one knew how to protect the Valdani, in particular, while an inferno of murderous violence and centuries-old enmity was consuming Sileria in all its explosive fury. There was no longer any such thing as order—let alone safety—anywhere in the mountains, and the lowlands were awash with fighting, refugees, pilgrims, ambushes, deadly water magic, and raging wildfires. While Adalian grew weaker and more desperate under Kariman's onslaught, the food shortages in Shaljir led to riots and violent factionalism even though the Idalar River—now very low and sluggish—still flowed into the city.
Everyone knew that Baran had sided with Tansen by marrying Mirabar—but what if that madman changed his mind? Or what if Kiloran killed him and gained full control of the Idalar? What would happen if Tansen died? If the Lironi lost their war in the east? If more earthquakes destroyed Shaljir beyond repair? If Mirabar's visions were false and never came to pass? Or if Kiloran killed her prophesied Yahrdan the way he had killed the Firebringer?
Others insisted that now was the time to be strong. Baran and Mirabar working together could keep the capital city from falling under Kiloran's influence. The Society, despite months of trying, had yet to regain control of the Shaljir River or the town of Zilar. Now was the time to support the Firebringer's dream of freedom for Sileria, not turn away from it in spineless terror of what
might
happen.
Now was the time for fire or water to gain ascendancy forever in Sileria, and there could be no turning back.