In Legend Born (97 page)

He hangs onto life, even when this world uses all its might to push him into the Other one.

The rebels traveling with Tansen knew that the journey might well kill him; but they thought that remaining in Valdani territory was even more likely to cause his death—as well as all of theirs. They had done their best to stop the bleeding, then tied him into his horse's saddle and returned to safe territory as fast as they could. Their destination was this Valdani ruin, the first landmark on this side of the invisible border between two warring peoples.

A runner had found Josarian soon afterwards. With Mirabar at his side, he came immediately to his brother's sickbed, traveling all night to reach him. A Sister was already in attendance, but it had taken Mirabar less than a day to decide to send for Basimar. Despite the many demands placed upon him these days, Josarian had refused to leave until he was certain Tansen would recover.

The
shatai
was getting better every day now—as his increasingly bad temper confirmed. A man like that did not react well to being confined to bed and ordered around by two women. Eight men, including Lann, were staying here, too, to guard Tansen. Although she would like to leave now that Tansen was better (and now that Basimar was making her do all manner of disgusting chores), Mirabar must remain, too. If Kiloran's assassins learned where Tansen was—and how weak he still was—she would be his best protection.

When he was well, Tansen would be much harder to kill than Srijan had been, and Kiloran knew it. He'd lost assassins trying to fulfill a bloodvow against Tansen before the war. How long ago that now seemed... The disastrous feud between Kiloran and Josarian had cost the waterlord his son, so it seemed likely that he would relish the chance to deprive Josarian of his bloodbrother if he learned that Tansen was lying wounded and helpless in a poorly protected area at the edge of rebel territory. In a few more days, when Tansen was well enough to be moved, they would take him to safer ground. Some place where Kiloran couldn't reach him.

Must it always be this way here?

So far, the war against the Valdani continued despite the internal chaos of the rebellion. Everyone still wanted the Valdani out of Sileria, even Josarian's enemies. Consequently, everyone still fought them. But there was no more mutual cooperation between the rebellion's quarreling factions. However, assassins and
shallaheen
loyal to Kiloran had recently seized four villages in the west, slaughtered many Outlookers, and sent the survivors fleeing back to Cavasar. Rumors suggested that Kiloran would move against Cavasar itself before long. Meanwhile, Josarian expanded his territory a little farther every few days. Yes, the war against the Valdani continued.

Mirabar, like many others, was increasingly worried about how long a divided Sileria could continue to fight Valdania. She had witnessed the miraculous events at Darshon, and she believed it was the will of the goddess that Sileria should finally be free of foreign rulers. Prophecy and visions had united to bring about these events, and surely Dar and the Otherworld were more powerful than Kiloran and the Society.

Nonetheless, destiny did not simply
happen.
It required effort, commitment, sacrifice. Mirabar wished she knew what she could do to influence events now, but the Beckoner continued to ignore her pleas for guidance. Unless he relented and came to her again, it must be someone else's role to ensure victory now. But who? Josarian? Tansen?

Tansen...
She had seen his swords breaking her people's shackles in her visions, time after time. Yet it was Josarian who had become their leader, who had embraced the goddess and become the Firebringer. Once, that first night at Kandahar, she thought she knew how all the pieces fit together, what all the portents and symbols meant. Now she was confused again. Had Tansen already fulfilled his role in Sileria, or was his destiny only beginning?

Well, until I'm sure of his destiny, I suppose I'd better keep him alive.

This practical attitude enabled her to endure another morning of mind-numbing boredom as she prepared bandages and boiled broth. She didn't even snap or snarl when Basimar reminded her that it was time to change Tansen's bedding.

He didn't snap or snarl, either, when she entered the garish shrine and announced her intentions. He looked defeated, like a man who'd endured all he could.

"Please, don't," he begged. "Let's just both
tell
the Sister you did."

She regarded him with wide-eyed innocence. "You mean...
lie?
"

"Surely it won't be the first time,
sirana
."

"I don't see why you're whining about it.
You
just have to lie there, while
I
do all the work."

"
I
just have to put up with you poking, prodding, and shoving me all over this lumpy pallet while I try to preserve what precious little is left of my modesty." Basimar kept him naked beneath the sheets.

Mirabar sighed. "Shall I get Lann to help you outside for some air while—"

"No, don't," he pleaded. "If I have to listen to him tell one more story about his New Year's victories, I'll wish I
had
died."

She laughed. "All right. I will spare you. No change of linen and no boring stories."

He stopped her when she would have left. "Don't go yet. She'll know you're lying if you try to pretend you changed the bedding so quickly." Using his good arm, the one that wasn't bandaged and healing from a deep
shir
cut, he took her hand and gently pulled her down to sit beside him.

"You're looking better," she commented.

He had lost the ghastly pallor of those first few delirious days when they had all been certain he would die. He needed to get back into the sun, and he looked too thin, having swallowed nothing lately besides broth and Basimar's noxious tisanes. But he was indeed starting to look more like himself again.

"You're looking better, too," he said.

"Me?"

"The first time I opened my eyes, you looked like—"

"A demon?" She wanted to say it herself rather than hear it on his lips.

He squeezed her hand, surprising her. "No, a hag."

"Oh. And here I thought you were going to say something unkind."

"There were circles under your eyes, your face was dirty, you were pale, and your hair was so tangled it looked like you hadn't combed it in days."

"I hadn't. I had more important things to do."

"Like bullying that poor Sister."

"I didn't bully..." She pursed her lips when he smiled knowingly at her. "Well... I may have been a little sharp with her."

"Only a little," he assured her with patent insincerity.

She shrugged. "It's my duty to keep you alive."

"I see."

His voice was soft, his expression... soft, too. The silence lengthened as their gazes held. His eyes were liquid brown and his mood unfamiliar to her. Feeling self-conscious, she lowered her eyes, remembering all the times he had avoided her flame-gold stare. She was afraid of seeing him do so again even now, when he showed no inclination to look away.

The elaborate scar on his naked chest stood out boldly, only partially covered by the strips of cloth Basimar had wrapped around him to hold the fresh bandage in place over the terrible wound in his side. Mirabar had seen that exotic Kintish symbol blazing through her visions so many times before learning what it meant, before finally seeing it carved on a man's warm, living flesh.

"Here." Tansen's voice was husky. He guided her hand to his torso, tugging a little when she resisted. "Go on," he murmured. "You can touch it if you want to."

She did want to, she realized, so she let him drag her palm over his hard chest. She shivered a little when he flattened his hand over hers, letting it rest there, light as a feather, filling her with warmth. With heat.

She swallowed and traced the ridges of flesh on his chest, the scars he had earned with hard work and pain.

"Did it hurt much?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered.

"The fires of initiation hurt, too," she told him.

His gaze shifted to the body hidden beneath her clothes. "Did it leave scars, too?"

"Not usually." A
lot
of heat. "Not on me."

"The scar... honors a
shatai
."

Mirabar nodded. She understood. She was a Guardian, after all. "The mark of your endurance," she murmured.

"Yes." His hand started sliding up her forearm.

"Your... courage."

"Hmmm." His fingers slid under the loose hem of her sleeve.

"Your..." The heat was spreading fast now. "... skill?"

He inhaled, his breath light and shallow, but didn't answer her. His hand slid above her elbow, to the tender flesh which was suddenly more sensitive than she had ever realized. Exerting subtle pressure there, he started urging her closer. Their eyes locked. She suddenly wanted to weep and couldn't imagine why. He saw the sorrow in her eyes and froze. His hand slid away from her arm and rose to trace a dangling curl of lava-red hair.

"Mira?" he said gently. "What's wr—"

"
Riders!
"

They both flinched when they heard the cry outside. Mirabar practically tumbled over backwards trying to get to the door. Tansen pushed himself into a sitting position, then fell back down.

"My swords," he rasped, sweat breaking out on his brow at the pain caused by his sudden movement.

She picked up the leather harness and tossed it in his direction. Sister Basimar burst through the elaborately-painted doorway, bumping into her.

"Mirabar, the sentries have—"

"Yes, we heard," she said. "Stay with him!"

She ran outside, preparing to meet their enemies. By the time she reached Lann's side, though, she could see it was a false alarm. He was grinning as he peered down into the narrow road leading to the shrine.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Zimran!" He paused and added, "And the
torena
."

"Elelar?"

"Yes. With an escort."

"What's
she
doing here?"

Lann shrugged. "I'm sure she'll tell us."

"Oh, you're sure, are you?" Mirabar said sourly. Did anyone ever really know what Elelar was up to?

The
torena
came bearing food, fresh bandages, almond milk, dried figs, and the best of last year's strawberry wine. A little too beautifully groomed to be convincing as a fugitive in a war-torn country, she pressed Tansen for details about the ambush in which he had nearly died. Above all, she expressed concern about his safety, insisting that he should be moved sooner than Basimar thought was reasonable.

"How long do you think you can keep his presence here a secret?" Elelar argued when Mirabar supported Basimar's position—merely because it was in opposition to Elelar's position. "How well do you think you can protect him from Kiloran here with only eight men?"

"I'm well enough to travel," Tansen asserted, eyeing all three women with an uneasy expression.

Mirabar glared at him. "So you were just
pretending
when you nearly fainted a little while ago?"

"Is he that bad still?" Elelar asked.

"Yes," Basimar said. "And I think it's too soon to move him."

"But what if he—"

Tansen said, "Would you all stop talking about me as if I wasn't—"

"Isn't it rather late in life for
you
to worry about what Kiloran might do to him,
torena
?" Mirabar snapped.

Elelar treated Mirabar to a chilling stare. Tansen sighed. Basimar suggested all they discuss this later.

"No, I can't stay," Elelar said.

Tansen looked up quickly.
Too
quickly. "You can't?"

"I only came to see how you were and to—"

"
Kadriah
?"

They all turned at the sound of Zimran's voice when he came through the doorway. He greeted them all briefly, then relayed some information to Elelar about a horse that had gone lame, suggesting she exchange it with one of the horses here if no one was going anywhere for a few more days.

"Ah." Mirabar said to Elelar, "First you urge us to leave, now you want to strand us."

"Mirabar." Tansen's voice held a warning note that she didn't like. He had no business trying to govern how she talked to Elelar—or anyone else.

She took a deep breath, trying to cool her temper. "If you're well enough to travel," she said to him, "then we will leave at first light. Therefore," she said to Zimran, "we'll need all our horses." She disliked the creatures, but they were useful here in the lowlands. "So your lame mount will simply have to remain your problem,
torena
."

Having concluded the conversation to her satisfaction, Mirabar turned and left the shrine.

It was a relief to her when Elelar and her escort departed. Tansen was in a withdrawn mood afterwards, brooding and brusque.

He will never be free of her.

If it pained Mirabar to realize this, it positively tormented Basimar to know that Zimran had become so devoted to the
torena
. Mirabar found the Sister weeping in private that evening when she should have been preparing for tomorrow's journey, one which they all knew Tansen was unwise to make so soon. Feeling desolate and rejected, Basimar poured her heart out to Mirabar, telling her far more than she wanted to know about her former relationship with Josarian's cousin.

"But now he's in love with a
torena
," Basimar sobbed. "Beautiful, elegant, rich... younger than me..."

"She has..." Mirabar fumbled for words. "Men see something in her which... That is to say..." She gave up in the end and just let Basimar cry.

Darfire, sometimes she genuinely hated Elelar.

If Tansen still wanted the
torena
, then he was a fool who deserved the unhappiness she would surely cause him. And Mirabar would not demean herself by dwelling on those strange, exciting moments she had shared with him before Elelar's arrival. She would, instead, recall moments shared with the man who had never shown revulsion when looking at her, who had never backed away from her or avoided her eyes.