The Destroyer Goddess (2 page)

The last of the Valdani ships left Sileria... and finally abandoned Silerians to their own private bloodfeuds, to enmity  nurtured for centuries, to enduring hatred so fierce that no outsider could truly understand it. 

The Firebringer's loyalists declared war on the Honored Society which had betrayed him. The waterlords and assassins of the Society promised destruction to any Silerian who was not loyal to them, and they vowed to kill every last Guardian of the Otherworld. The
shallaheen
, Sileria's mountain peasants, chose one side or the other, then ferociously attacked anyone who chose differently. The
toreni
, Sileria's aristocrats, sought to protect their wealth in a land disintegrating into rampant chaos. The lowlanders and the city-dwellers were swept into the fiery whirlwind engulfing everyone in the country, while the sea-born folk tried to remain aloof from the quarrels of the landfolk. The
zanareen
, that religious sect of Dar-loving madmen, mourned the death of the Firebringer and wailed dark warnings about the suffering that Dar would now inflict on Sileria for having murdered Her chosen one.

And as Sileria spiraled into the inferno of civil war, Dar demanded Her due. She Called people from all over the nation to come and worship Her, praise Her, comfort Her, and offer Her their lives. They came from the thirst-maddened cities, the war-torn mountains, the withered fields of the lowlands, and the villages devastated by earthquakes. They came to dwell on Mount Darshon, the snow-capped volcanic mountain wherein the destroyer goddess dwelled. They came to die in explosive showers of burning rock, or to melt in the rivers of lava that streamed down the tormented slopes of the mountain. Vents opened in Darshon's ravaged skin to smother them with poisonous fumes, avalanches buried them alive, and the volcano threatened to consume them all in a massive eruption.

And still they came, drawn there by a summons they could not resist.

Strange colored clouds and dancing lights surrounded the summit of Darshon, visible from vantage points throughout much of Sileria. Meanwhile, in the night sky over Mount Dalishar, where perpetual fires burned without fuel in the sacred caves, pilgrims continued to see the now-famous visions there which warned of—or promised?—an imminent arrival. 

No one could say what the visions meant, nor could anyone bring solace to a nation so thirsty that it daily spilled and drank its own blood. 

A child of fire, a child of water, a child of sorrow...

Sleeping in a mountain Sanctuary of the Sisterhood, where she awaited her fate, Mirabar the Guardian awoke with a pounding heart. Gasping for air, she sat up and pressed a hand to her sweat-dampened brow.

Fire and water, water and fire...

She heard the silent voice of the Beckoner, the mysterious Otherworldly being who brought her visions to her. He'd made her a prophetess and valued advisor to the Firebringer. Now she was a hunted enemy of the Honored Society.

Welcome him... 

"Am I doing the right thing?" Mirabar asked aloud.

There was no answer.

"I failed Josarian, and he's dead," she said, her voice breaking. "Will I fail the new ruler I've foreseen in my visions? The Yahrdan? How can I protect him?"

Welcome him... Welcome your fate.
 

Chapter One

Love demands its martyrs 

and craves its sacrifices.

                              —Kintish Proverb

Elelar realized what Tansen had done as soon as she saw the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around his left hand. She had seen his protective affection for Zarien, the sea-born orphan who traveled with him. So it didn't take a
shallah
to guess that he'd recently cut his palm with a knife, in a ritual typical of Sileria's mountain peasants, to make the boy his bloodson.

"Are you sure that was wise?" she asked Tansen as soon as they were alone together in Santorell Palace. They were in the same room, in fact, where she had watched in horror as Searlon the assassin murdered Commander Cyrill to help Elelar convince Advisor Kaynall that he must publicly announce that the Valdani were surrendering Sileria to native rule.

"You're supposed to congratulate me," Tansen replied. "Becoming a father is—"

"Zarien is not like other boys," Elelar said. "Surely you see that."

"Dying and being given new life by a goddess has a tendency set someone apart," he agreed dryly. "However, since I saw my bloodbrother through a similar fate, who better than me—"

"This could be a very good thing for you," she interrupted again. "I see that. I understand that."

"Then why do you look as if I've taken a fever instead of a son?"

"Because men never think these things through practically."

"Don't start," Tansen warned her.

"He was sea-bound for the first fourteen years of his life," she persisted. "How well do you really know him? How well could you
possibly
—"

"Much better," he pointed out, "than many people know each other before they get married." He lifted one brow but didn't bother to cite an obvious example. He didn't need to.

Elelar sighed, recalling Tansen's insistence that she locate her husband. "I've had news from my estate. Ronall has been there recently."

"Is he still there?"

"No, he left again. Almost immediately. With no explanation about where he was going. And," she added with irritation, "he took my favorite horse with him again." She paused, then said in puzzlement, "He also brought my widowed cousin there for safety. Only..."

"Only?"

"I do not, as far as I know,
have
a widowed cousin," said Elelar.

"Perhaps she was widowed quite recently?" Tansen suggested.

"How would Ronall, of all people, know about it before I do?"

"Maybe he was visiting her and—"

"He wouldn't be welcome among any of my relations.
I
haven't been welcome among most of them ever since I married him."

Tansen shrugged off her family problems and said, "So you're no closer to locating him than you were before?"

"No. But I've been..." She couldn't help grimacing before she continued, "Talking about him here in Shaljir. In public. Saying... nice things about my... heroic husband." It made her want to kick someone.

As if sensing this, Tansen edged away from her. "Good."

She turned to another topic. "We've received bad news."

"What?"

"Baran is siding with Kiloran."

His expression became focused and very serious as the discussion turned to the Honored Society. "How do you know?"

"We've learned that they had a truce meeting."

"Ah. I knew there'd been one, but I didn't know if Baran attended."

"He did," she said. "And he and Kiloran made their peace there. Temporarily, of course."

"Of course."

"In front of quite a few witnesses from the Society, Baran agreed to oppose you and to help Kiloran bring the city of Shaljir under the Society's influence—by using the Idalar River, obviously." The river was the capital city's primary source of water, and Baran had spent recent years challenging Kiloran's sorcery for control of it.

Tansen's jaw worked for a moment as he considered the threat of those two powerful waterlords, usually at odds with each other, now unified to fight him. "Damn. That's discouraging." After a heavy pause, he added, "Still, maybe Mirabar can bring Baran around. He might still be—"

"Mirabar should stay away from him." When he looked sharply at her, Elelar explained, "Before they parted, Baran and Kiloran divided up their tasks. Kiloran is coming after you, and Baran will take charge of killing Mirabar." A moment later, she said to Tansen's retreating back, "Wait! Where are you going?"

"Home."

"What?" He had no home.

"I'm leaving Shaljir," he said, opening the door and pausing briefly. "I told Mirabar to do whatever she had to do to get Baran on our side. If she doesn't know about this truce meeting, she'll walk right into whatever trap he sets for her, especially if he baits it with promises of cooperation. I've got to stop her."

"Tan—" She closed her mouth. He was already gone.

A moment later, she heard him shouting for Zarien as he ascended the steps to gather his few belongings and set off for the mountains again.

Najdan left Mirabar in Sister Velikar's Sanctuary, where she would await Baran's return from Josarian's native village of Emeldar. Najdan had things to attend to while the
sirana
and his woman, Haydar, were temporarily safe in the little Sanctuary on Mount Dalishar's slopes. Besides, he had no desire to be anywhere nearby while Haydar explained certain things about marriage and men to Mirabar. Many subjects were best left strictly between women, and that was one of them.

Just when Najdan believed the world could get no stranger or more bewildering—it did.

Mirabar, the most famous Guardian in all of Sileria was going to marry Baran, a waterlord who was second only to Kiloran in power—and in the fear he had inspired for years. Perhaps Najdan, the Society assassin who now served Mirabar, shouldn't be shocked by the idea; but he was. 

When Mirabar broke the news to him, he forbade her to marry Baran, or even speak to that demented sorcerer again. Had Mirabar lost all her wits? Did she really intend to accompany Baran to the moldy ruins of Belitar where he could murder her at his leisure, in the comfort and privacy of his own home? When had any Guardian ever been able to trust a waterlord? And even if Mirabar
could
trust one, did she really want one as notoriously crazy as
Baran
for her husband? Najdan did not want to see so worthy a young woman bound to so repellent a man.

"Even if he
doesn't
kill you in some devious scheme or sudden fit of madness," Najdan had added, "he's too old for you!" Though Mirabar didn't know her exact age, she was certainly no more than twenty; whereas Baran must be close to forty by now. 
      There was a lot of shouting, since Mirabar was being completely unreasonable. Haydar had ventured into the Sanctuary and tried to make them both calm down, and Najdan yelled at his warm-hearted mistress for the first time in years. Seeing her stricken expression brought him to his senses, and that was when Mirabar also calmed down enough to explain herself.

And so it unfolded. 

A child of water. A child of fire.
 

Things Najdan didn't understand and would really rather not think about too much. Baran's words to the
sirana
echoed the promises in Mirabar's visions. So now she was convinced the waterlord would somehow help her fulfill the prophecies of the Beckoner. 

She was very confused, though. Well, that was understandable. Conversation with Baran would confuse
anyone.
Mirabar didn't know if she would be the mother of the new Yahrdan, but she seemed to think not. Somehow, though, the child she would bear would be integral to Sileria's future, and there were things at Belitar, Baran's home, which she must learn and understand.

If that was the way it had to be... Well, Najdan supposed he had already done stranger things in his life—such as betraying his former master, Kiloran, to protect and serve a Guardian.

Baran had offered a home to Najdan and Haydar at Belitar, too. Although the idea initially revolted Najdan, Haydar made him see that if Mirabar was indeed going to marry Baran—and she was, Najdan had eventually agreed upon that point after being confronted with the will of Dar and the Beckoner in this matter—then the assassin must join her at Belitar or abandon her altogether. And no one, Haydar reminded him, should be abandoned alone with Baran. 

Besides, Haydar was tired of living in Sanctuary and of sleeping without Najdan at her side. They could be together at Belitar. And as long as Baran didn't kill them all, Haydar added, where would Najdan's women be safer from Kiloran, in all of Sileria, than in Baran's lair?

As long as Baran doesn't kill us all.