In Legend Born (94 page)

Surely Josarian was doomed. How could he live much longer? And considering how Josarian had abused and endangered Elelar that day at Golnar, Zimran could not find it in his heart to be sorry that his cousin might die soon.

Elelar was finding it more and more difficult to get away from Zimran. Sex always pacified him upon her return home, but he was becoming increasingly sulky, quarrelsome, and demanding before each departure. She would glad turn him out of her household, except that her rift with Josarian had grown so wide that Zimran was now her only reliable connection to him.

Josarian might be half-mad since his leap into Darshon, but he was still no fool. He knew that Zimran told Elelar everything, so he said little to his cousin about the war, his plans, or his enmity with Kiloran. Nonetheless, careful questioning of Zimran after he saw his cousin always revealed more than Elelar could have learned without him, so she continued to let him stay with her. Luckily, in a doomed attempt to win Zimran away from her, Josarian had recently sent him off on some innocuous mission. Zimran resented the separation from Elelar, but—at her insistence—had accepted the assignment and proved his loyalty to his cousin by obeying orders. Not only did it serve to re-establish some of Josarian's waning faith in Zimran, but it freed Elelar for an important assignation with Searlon, one which would take her away for more days than Zimran would have tolerated without making a fuss.

She had met with Searlon once before, at the behest of the Alliance. Her associates were deeply concerned about the rift between Josarian and Kiloran. So far, it seemed that the Valdani knew nothing about it, which was a relief. Revelation of the crumbling rebel alliance would renew Valdani confidence just when they were finally losing it. Whichever side of the quarrel Silerians took, it was in everyone's best interest to ensure that the Valdani didn't find out about the unbreachable chasm of hatred which now separated the Firebringer and Sileria's most powerful waterlord.

Adalian and Liron had already fallen. Cavasar was in a state of constant turmoil and completely cut off from Valda. Moorlander warships now patrolled the waters off of Sileria's western coast, and the sea-born folk had controlled Cavasar's port ever since sacking it. One half of Sileria's land was under rebel control. The Silerians still living in Valdani-held lands were now openly loyal to the rebellion, preparing for their own liberation.

Indeed, at this point, the Valdani must be nervously wondering why the rebels had not yet made a move against Shaljir. At least the rebels' frustrating inability to take action at this time was having one useful effect: The delay was driving the Valdani mad with nervous anticipation.

Elelar knew from dispatches making their way through Liron and Adalian that the Emperor's two-front war was devastating the economy of Valdania. If the Imperial Council had thoughts of calling for peace with either the Kintish Kingdoms or the Moorlanders, it was too late now. They had gone too far, committed too much. Neither the free tribes of the Moorlands nor the Palace of Heaven would accept an offer of peace now. They would know it was merely a sign of weakness, an indication that they might now have an opportunity to carve up the distant reaches of the Empire for themselves.

The Silerian rebels, however, had no ambitions on the mainland. They wanted nothing from the Valdani except unconditional withdrawal from Sileria. So, after two hundred years, the Imperial Council had decided that Sileria was expendable.

The new Imperial Advisor in Sileria had been instructed to meet with the Alliance under a white flag of truce to negotiate an end to hostilities. Unable to risk proposing peace to their two mighty foes on the mainland, the Valdani were evidently ready to cut their losses in Sileria. It would relieve them of an increasingly costly problem, and they undoubtedly believed they could reclaim Sileria at some later date, after securing the victories they still anticipated in the Moorlands and in the Kintish Kingdoms.

The Valdani wouldn't believe the prophecy about the Firebringer, if they even knew it: The enemies he drove out would never return to Sileria. And Elelar had no intention of trying to win them over to Silerian mysticism. After all, they'd be more likely to leave now if they believed they could simply come back later.

Elelar's heart almost ached with hope as, escorted by Searlon, she made her way to the negotiations she had been instructed to attend. The meeting was so secret that she had been advised to tell no one about it. Not even Faradar knew where she was now. Would the Valdani really make an offer—and if they did, would it be sincere?

Will the war really end?

As Searlon guided her to the edge of rebel territory and beyond, Elelar saw plenty of evidence that it would be best for Sileria if the war did end this year—perhaps even by summer. The rebels were prepared to fight for much longer. Now that the Firebringer had come, they would fight forever, if need be. But this impoverished land was already suffering under the burden of fighting the world's wealthiest empire. It would be so much better for Sileria if the fighting could end before her land was too war-torn and her people too devastated to reap the benefits of victory.

Above all, Elelar longed to see an end to all the killing. She had heard about the terrible massacres occurring all along the borders of rebel territory, but none of the stories had prepared her for the horrors she now witnessed as she rode beside Searlon.

Village after village had been attacked. Many had already been burned, the tragedy so great that the survivors simply torched entire towns rather than trying to resurrect their lives amidst such devastation. In some villages, where survivors remained, Elelar heard such horrific stories of brutality, murder, torture, and slaughter that she felt physically sick. Even women, children, and dying old people were not safe from the Outlookers rampaging through the lowlands in a wave of violence so vicious that it eclipsed all memories of Myrell the Butcher.

The orders came from Commander Koroll, of course, and his name was on everyone's lips. Having failed to hold Sileria, he now sought to destroy her in his humiliation. It made Elelar think of what Borell had done to her in the guardhouse at the Lion's Gate. Now she saw that a man could try to do the same thing to a whole nation, that he could hate an entire people that bitterly.  

Koroll must be stopped.

Josarian knew it, of course. He was fighting to defend the helpless villages falling victim to Koroll's vengeful rage. However, the Outlookers had learned a thing or two from the rebels. These attacks on undefended, non-military targets always occurred by surprise and usually in the middle of the night. They were secret operations. Even if Elelar were still living in Shaljir, sleeping in Borell's bed, and privy to his discussions with Koroll, she'd probably be unable to learn about the planned attacks in time to save the victims.

Koroll must be stopped.

And the war must end soon. It might be different if Josarian and Kiloran were still allies, but now that they were enemies, time was running out. The rebellion was crumbling already, splitting up into warring factions in the wake of Kiloran's betrayal and Srijan's murder. The Alliance must negotiate for the Valdani to leave now, before they could take advantage of Sileria's internal weaknesses again.

It's only a matter of time...

Of course, Elelar knew she might be riding to her death even now. Kiloran apparently believed that she'd had nothing to do with Srijan's murder. She wouldn't put it past Searlon to toy with her before assassinating her, but he'd had many opportunities to kill her or lead her into a trap during these past few days, and he hadn't done so. So she believed he was indeed taking her to the Alliance's meeting with the Imperial Advisor now. On the other hand, she had even less reason to trust the Valdani than she did the Society, so she wasn't certain she would live through this.

Searlon said the invitation had come through an assassin the Valdani had captured and then released in the hope that he could, as he claimed, get a message to the Alliance. Elelar had resisted at first, assuming it was a trap laid by Koroll. The commander wanted them all, and he probably still wanted
her
more than anyone else. Indeed, Searlon himself had passed along the news that Koroll had imprisoned Ronall in the hopes of using him as some sort of bait or exchange hostage for her. Ronall! Evidently Koroll was too big a fool to realize just how unlikely Elelar was ever again to take two steps out of her way—let alone return to prison—for the sake of her husband. Anyhow, he was a Valdani aristocrat; surely keeping him in custody was the worst thing that Koroll would do to him.

She remained suspicious about this meeting, but the Alliance had asked her to be one of the four representatives who would attend. She assumed it was because, among her associates in the Alliance, she was the closest to Josarian—though none of them realized how much that had changed. Even Searlon, whom no one would ever describe as a trusting sort of man, seemed to believe today's meeting was genuine rather than a trap. So Elelar went, praying that she wouldn't find herself right back in Shaljir's prison as a result.

When they arrived at the crumbling ruins of a Moorlander fortress in Valdani-ruled land, Elelar saw the white flag of truce flying over a round tower that was decorated with the remnants of the demon-slaying stone creatures carved there many centuries ago by the Moorlanders. 

Someone emerged from behind the tumbling stone walls. Elelar felt relief when she recognized
Toren
Varian of Adalian. The old man, who had been an associate of Gaborian's for over forty years, was one of the chief authorities within the Alliance. His presence gave her hope that the meeting was indeed genuine. Searlon helped her dismount, then watched her follow Varian into the ruins. This meeting was for the Alliance only. The Imperial Council believed they could reason with aristocrats,
toreni
, and even wealthy merchants, but not with illiterate peasants, assassins, wizards, fire-eating mystics, and outlaws.

"War is the business of one kind of man," Varian advised her as he guided her into a large tent flying another white flag. "And peace is the business of another."

And the business of women is to make you all do the intelligent thing and let you believe it was your own idea all along.

She had failed at Golnar when Josarian killed Srijan. She had failed the night Tansen had murdered Armian. Both failures had cost Sileria dearly. She vowed that she would not leave this meeting without securing peace for her people.

Varian introduced her to Advisor Kaynall. He had obviously heard of her, and she found his gaze insultingly familiar as it traveled over her. He made some remark about envying Borell. She didn't comment, just returned his gaze coolly, hating him as she hated all Valdani. She ignored the seat he offered her, choosing another instead.

"Tell me,
torena
," he said. "Just out of curiosity... After all the effort your husband invested to procure your right to an imperial trial, why did you flee Shaljir?"

She stared at him. Realizing he meant the question seriously, she said, in the tone of one addressing the village idiot, "Because I preferred escape to death by slow torture."

"But death by slow torture was by no means a certainty, particularly considering—"

"I was being dragged to the cellar for that very purpose when Silerians rebels broke into the prison to rescue me. How much more certain do you think I needed to be?"

The Advisor frowned. "That's impossible. You had been granted a trial. And surely that's why Borell killed himself—because your testimony would ruin him."

Elelar shook her head. "No, Captain Myrell said that I had been denied a..." She stopped suddenly, realizing. "
Koroll.
"

Kaynall's eyes widened. She saw that he was quicker than Borell had been. "I... gather that your testimony could have damaged Commander Koroll as well as Advisor Borell?"

"Not as much, but it would have been damaging." She leaned forward, reconstructing the events as they must have occurred. "Borell got the dispatch granting me a trial and killed himself. Koroll somehow suppressed the news before anyone else knew about it, then worked out a scheme wherein he could get away with killing me before I could embarrass him at trial."

Following the conversation with his own quick mind, Varian guessed, "And he would have found a way to cast blame elsewhere."

"Onto Borell, probably," Elelar mused, "who couldn't defend himself once he was dead."

Varian smiled blandly at Kaynall. "Evidently life in Santorell Palace isn't all that different from the Palace of Heaven, which is notorious for such scheming and deception."

Kaynall was too experienced to reveal the fury he must be feeling over the High Commander's self-serving subterfuge, or the embarrassment he must feel at having it revealed to him by an enemy—and a woman.

The new Advisor merely returned the bland smile, then said to Elelar, "I'm afraid your husband and his family have suffered severely due to these misunderstandings. The Council honored you by granting the right of an imperial trial to a Silerian, and His Radiance considered your violent escape from prison a personal insult. It is small reparation, but I give you my personal guarantee that your husband will be released from custody the moment I return to Shaljir."