The Destroyer Goddess (37 page)

"Why would you want me to?"

Tansen's gaze was dark and hard. "You evidently don't realize how dangerous it is for her to be there."

"You mean because of the chaos there?" Kariman had taken control of that district upon Ferolen's death, and so it was now part of the extremely messy bloodfeud going on between him and Gulstan.

"Partially," Tansen acknowledged. "But mostly because Kiloran—or any of his assassins—can probably still reach her there, despite the chaos. She's not their primary concern these days, but they do want her dead. So they'll see to it if they realize she's there."

Ronall frowned. "But she betrayed Josarian to Kiloran, so why would Kiloran now—" He stopped speaking when Zarien gasped and made a jerky movement that caused Tansen to flinch and pull his burned leg away from the boy.

Zarien said in obvious astonishment, "
Torena
Elelar helped the White Dragon kill—"

"No," Tansen replied. "She didn't know about the White Dragon."

Ronall's heart was pounding as he stared at the
shatai
. "You know what she did, don't you?" He almost laughed as he realized, "Of course, you do! After all, you killed Zimran, who was sleeping with Elelar. And if you know my wife, then you know that she can convince a man to do almost anything."

Tansen's expression had gone quite blank—which probably meant that he did indeed know what Ronall knew, and probably much more. "How do you know this?" he asked evenly.

"I know
her
." Ronall sighed.

Tansen's face changed, and Ronall thought that he almost looked... guilty. "Yes, I suppose so."

"If you know what she did," Ronall asked, suddenly curious, "why haven't you killed her?"

A
sharp
look of guilt now. Unmistakable. Ah, yes. That was the
shallah
in him. He hadn't avenged his bloodbrother's murder, and the stain on his honor was dark and heavy.

Tansen replied quietly, "I don't kill women." 

Ronall nodded, understanding that, at least. Silerian women, though their lives were hard, held a rather exalted status in the eyes of Silerian men. And Elelar... Ronall suddenly wondered with almost wild curiosity if she had the effect on Tansen—even on this ruthlessly disciplined
shatai
—that she'd had on so many other men.

"
Torena
Elelar betrayed Josarian," Zarien murmured, looking strangely at Tansen. "She, not the Valdani, convinced Zimran to lead Josarian into the trap you saved him from."

Before Tansen could reply, Ronall said, "Yes."

"And you knew that," Zarien said, his voice dark as he addressed Tansen. "But you kept it a secret. You let Josarian's loyalists blame Zimran alone, while the
torena
was admired. You told
me
she was a great heroine of the rebellion."

"She was," Tansen said, meeting his son's gaze. "She sacrificed—"

"She sacrificed the Firebringer!" Zarien sounded hurt. "Maybe even the sea king!"

"The who?" Ronall asked.

Tansen shook his head. "She didn't sacrifice the sea king, Zarien."

The boy's eyes were wide with dismay. Perhaps even  disillusionment. "You don't know that. Maybe it's not you. Maybe I was wrong."

Tansen made an obvious attempt to get control of the conversation. "I'll never forgive what Elelar did, Zarien, but she was still needed. I couldn't kill her for—"

"
Kill
her?" Zarien's voice was suddenly harsh and angry, making Tansen blink. "Why is
that
always the only answer for you? I asked you not to kill her in Shaljir, and I'd ask you again if she walked into camp right now!"

"Then—"

"Don't you
ever
think there's a way of punishing someone besides killing them?" Zarien cried, his shrill voice attracting the attention of others in the camp.

Tansen rose to his feet. Zarien leaped back as if afraid Tansen would strike him. Tansen saw this and froze.

Ronall wondered how Elelar managed to do this to men even when she was nowhere in the vicinity.

"Calm down," Tansen said to Zarien.

"
Me?
" Zarien's voice was rich with a scathing contempt which Elelar herself might have envied. "
I
am not the one who unsheathes my swords every time something goes wrong." He turned his back and stormed away from his father.

"Zarien!" Tansen called, his voice filled with the authority which had commenced a rebellion and led a civil war. "
Zarien!"

The boy ignored him and disappeared into the woods.

"I told him not to go anywhere alone," Tansen muttered, starting to pursue him.

"There are sentries everywhere," Ronall pointed out. "And if I might suggest—he needs some time alone now."

Tansen stopped in his tracks. The expression of uncertainty on his face was so unfamiliar that it almost made him look like a stranger. He wrestled with the decision for a moment before admitting, "You're right."

It was hard to remember the last time someone had said that to Ronall; and that it should now be Tansen, of all men... However, all the time Ronall had lately spent with Tansen and Zarien had certainly revealed to him just how humbling fatherhood was.

Ever since meeting Tansen, Ronall had seen how he—even
he
—struggled with raising a son, albeit under very unusual circumstances. Watching Tansen now, Ronall was again filled with fear and dread—the two primary emotions which clouded his mind every time he thought about Jalilar's pregnancy. Not that he supposed Emelen would ever let him near Jalilar's baby. Not that Tansen, Mirabar, and the Guardians were likely to let a drunken Valdan influence the childhood of their prophesied Yahrdan.

Ronall didn't believe for one moment that
his
child, gotten so carelessly on a woman whose face he was already forgetting, was the one chosen by Dar Herself to rule Sileria in the Firebringer's wake.

Trying to distract his thoughts, yet again, from that whole bizarre, frightening, and bewildering situation, he now said to Tansen, "I guess fatherhood is a challenge even to the most capable of men."

"Dar knows it challenged
my
father," Tansen muttered.

"They say he died when you were very young."

Tansen went very still. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"So when you were Zarien's age, did you—"

Tansen snapped, "I don't want to talk about when I Zarien's age." 

Ronall nearly flinched. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"I'm sorry,
toren
," Tansen said, recovering his self-control. "I didn't mean to be rude."

Relieved, Ronall replied, "I think you can call me Ronall."

"Yes," Tansen agreed dryly. "Considering that you've more or less been my hostage ever since we met, perhaps I needn't be so formal."

"I would probably be dead if I weren't your hostage," Ronall admitted.

"Which is why I don't think I can agree to let you go east on your own."

"I'm a burden to you here," Ronall said. "And I—"

"You've done some good here," Tansen argued. The mildness of his tone made the comment seem sincere.

But Ronall knew better. "
You've
done the good. For the Silerian-born Valdani, I mean. The people in Britar, in Adalian, elsewhere—they listened to you, not to me. You didn't need me. People do what you want them to do because of who you are, not because you display me to them."

Tansen studied him with a serious, considering expression. "Do you think that, on your own, you can make people listen? Can you stop the killing?" He seemed as if he genuinely wanted to know, even hoped it was a possibility.

"It worked once before." Ronall thought of
Torena
Chasimar. Then he thought of Porsall, whose dying scream still haunted him. "Well, partly, anyhow," he amended. "I don't know. I just know that I need to try." He smiled wryly. "Perhaps being forced to live among a bunch of self-sacrificing warriors and fire-eating mystics has destroyed the last of my reason. Or maybe you just don't have enough liquor here to keep me calm. I just know that... I have no home but Sileria, and neither do the rest of my kind. If I'm going to die violently, and soon, it might as well be because I was trying to help my people, instead of just because I finally ran out of places to hide." When Tansen didn't say anything, Ronall added, "I want to help. I want to..." Oh, how Elelar would laugh right now. "Do the right thing." He took a breath, "I want to die doing something worthy, instead of knowing, when they kill me at last, that I wasted everything I was born with, everything that was given to me, and every chance I ever had of becoming a man."

Tansen stared at him in silence for a long moment. Ronall wondered what he was thinking, since his face was again living up to its reputation for inscrutability.

What the
shatai
finally said stunned him: "You would have liked Josarian."

"The same Josarian who killed so many Valdani?" Ronall asked doubtfully.

"He had a very generous heart and... would probably have been moved to embrace you for such a brave decision."

"Brave?" Ronall repeated faintly.

Tansen lifted one brow. "Surely even the Valdani teach their children that courage isn't the absence of fear, but the ability to carry on despite it?"

"I'll need a lot of fire brandy to do this," Ronall warned him, not wanting Tansen to expect more of him than he could give.

"Sometimes even Josarian needed it," Tansen assured him with the hint of a smile. "And I... I have been very, very thirsty for it on occasion, Ronall."

"So you'll let me go?" Ronall asked, confused and pleased and afraid.

"
Tansen!"

They both turned as a runner came stumbling into camp. Ronall recognized him as someone Tansen trusted, though he didn't know the
shallah
's name.

"Tansen!" the man shouted, looking so wild-eyed, sweat-drenched, and exhausted that Ronall's belly roiled with fear.

"Here!" Tansen stalked toward him, his posture tense.

Ronall followed, already knowing that this runner was bringing bad news.

"Tansen!" The man's face crumpled horribly when he saw Tansen, and he fell to his knees.

Tansen crouched beside him, heedless of the burned leg which must make that painful. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Something terrible has happened," the
shallah
reported between heaving breaths. "So terrible!"

Ronall watched with dread as the man—a tough, battle-hardened mountain peasant—started to weep like a child.

"Dar have mercy on us all!" the
shallah
cried. "It's over. We're finished. Kiloran has won."

Tansen took him by the shoulders. "What are you talking about?" 

"Jalilar is dead!"

"What?" Tansen shot to his feet, dragging the
shallah
with him. "
What?
"

"Jalilar is dead," the runner repeated.

"How?"

"Kiloran has had her assassinated. Her, her unborn child, Emelen, all the sentries..."

Ronall stared in blank-minded shock, unable to form words.

"How did Kiloran lure them out of Sanctuary?" Tansen demanded.

The
shallah
's tear-streaked eyes were dazed with horror. "He didn't."

Tansen shook his head frowning. "No, they were in Sanctuary. Jalilar knew not to... not to..." A look of shocked disbelief washed across that hawk-like face. He shook his head. "
No
."

"Yes," the
shallah
wept.

Tansen took a step back. "No. Not even Kiloran would..."

"He violated Sanctuary!" the
shallah
screamed. "He violated Sanctuary and murdered Jalilar and her unborn child!"

Tansen just stood there, his face twisted by grief and shock. "Even Kil... Even..." He lowered his head. "
Jalilar
."

"Dead with a single thrust of Searlon's
shir
," the
shallah
  reported, his weeping starting to fade into hollow grief.

"How do you know that?" Tansen asked without looking up.

"Sister Basimar saw the whole thing. She came to our encampment for help after it happened. She was done crying by then, and she was very clear about what happened."

"They spared her?" Tansen asked dully.

"No. Searlon... maybe he didn't know she was already in residence to tend Jalilar, because he didn't even look for her. Basimar was returning from gathering herbs in the woods when she... heard the screams."

Many Guardians and
shallaheen
were now gathered around Tansen and the runner, all listening in horrified, wide-eyed silence.

"The sentries were all dead by the time Basimar got close enough to see anything. Some of their bodies were lying inside Sanctuary grounds, where the assassins had killed them. Basimar thinks there were six assassins, but she's not sure about that. Everything happened so fast."

The Sister living in this camp came forward and silently offered water to the runner. He shook his head and continued, "The sentries were dead, and then Emelen..." His voice broke again. No one said anything, no one moved, while he composed himself enough to go on. "Emelen was shouting that this was Sanctuary, they couldn't do this. When they tried get past him, to go inside and... and kill Jalilar, he fought them. He shouted for her to run, and he fought them, trying to give her time. Trying to stop them... to..." He gasped, and tears started streaming down his face again.

"
Emelen
." It was Tansen's voice, raw with grief.

"They killed him. Searlon caught Jalilar while she was trying to escape." More harsh, panting breaths. Then he concluded, "And he killed her."

No one said anything. Ronall had never heard such a silence. Then again, probably no one in all of Sileria had ever heard anything as shocking as this tale.

The Sister finally said what everyone else was thinking. "I've never heard of anyone violating Sanctuary. Not any Silerian. Not ever. Not even..." She shook her head. "Not ever."