"He won't," said Mirabar.
This appearance of loyalty to her husband annoyed him. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know him very well now."
"Are you saying he's not insane and treacherous, that he just pretends?" Tansen asked skeptically.
"No, he's even more dangerous than I realized when I married him. All the same, I trust him in this."
"Why?" he demanded.
"I understand him now, and I know what he wants."
Tansen stared at her profile, noticing how she avoided looking at him. A terrible trembling started deep inside of him, making it a strain to keep his voice even as he said, "It's more than that, isn't it? You've become... fond of him." He would not—could not—use a word like love. Not for her and another man.
"'Fond' might be an exaggeration." When he made no effort to fill the tense silence, she continued awkwardly, "I have feelings which... I mean, he's a man who..." She concluded quietly, "I couldn't turn on him, Tansen."
"I'm not asking you to." He heard how cold his voice sounded, but he couldn't help it.
"The ironic thing is that, given the right incentive, he could turn on me. Even kill me." Mirabar made a little sound and placed a hand over her belly, looking down to contemplate the child that rested therein. Baran's child.
Her child, too, Tansen reminded himself, trying to keep his wits. It will be hers, too.
"Well, no," she amended. "He couldn't turn on me. Not anymore. He wants this child, and he wants me to raise her."
"And before you were pregnant? You lived with him believing he might kill you, and you stayed there?" His voice was far from cold now. Anger, fear, and desperate jealousy heated it. "You stayed with that madman, slept in his bed, let him frighten and threaten you? And you never sent for me?"
His attack didn't make her angry. She just shook her head, her expression contemplative. "It's so complicated at Belitar. You can't imagine how... different things seem when you're there."
"I've been there. I can imagine."
"No, Baran is far more... And then there are..." Mirabar seemed to reach a sudden decision. "There are things you need to know. If he and I don't live, you've got to protect them."
"Who?"
"The Beyah-Olvari."
"Fires of Dar! You didn't tell him about—"
"No! He told me."
Tansen frowned. "How does he know about them?"
As she explained, her warm voice soft and melodious in the volcano-glowing night, so many things became clear to him, from the origin of Marjan's power over water a thousand years ago to the Olvar's insistence in Shaljir that, somewhere else in Sileria, other Beyah-Olvari had survived.
"They want to meet the others," she concluded.
"Yes," he said, feeling dazed. "I mean, so does the clan in Shaljir."
"We can't arrange it without exposing them, can we?"
"Probably not," he agreed. "And we can't risk exposing them..." He made a vague gesture. "Until our own problems are resolved."
"But someday..."
He nodded. "If we kill all the waterlords—"
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean, we have to break the Society, now and forever. That's what this war is really about. But Baran is right—"
"Do we have to keep talking about him?" Tansen didn't care that he sounded petulant. He couldn't stand the other man's constant presence between them.
"There will always be water magic in Sileria. No one can change that. Not you, not anyone. No one should change that."
"It's harmless among the Beyah-Olvari, Mira, but—"
"Tansen, I can't let you change that."
"You're asking me not to kill Baran."
"No, I'm telling you I will never let you kill my daughter."
He was stunned. "I would never hurt your child! Any child! I would never hurt you or anything you love. I couldn't. How could you even—" He stopped abruptly. "How do you know it's a girl?"
"The Olvara told me."
"And what makes you think that I would ever..." He drew in a breath so sharp it almost hurt. "Dar have mercy. Baran's daughter." He wondered stupidly why this had never occurred to him before. "A child of water... Sired by one of the greatest waterlords who's ever lived... A child Baran wanted enough to betray the Society... Of course."
"My daughter—"
"Will be one of them."
"No!" Mirabar's fierceness forced his galloping thoughts to focus on her words. "She will have the power they do, but she'll better than they are. Better than you, or me, or any of us. She'll help Elelar's child make a new Sileria where no one will ever again starve us for water or kill us for failing to pay tribute for it. She'll respect Dar, as they never have, and she'll learn from the Beyah-Olvari, and from me."
"And from her father, too?" he prodded. "Dar alone knows how many people that demented husband of yours has killed—"
"How many have you killed?"
"You know what I mean!"
"Baran will not be there!" she snapped.
Tansen waited in fuming silence for an explanation of this statement, but didn't expect the one which he got.
"Baran is ill and very near death."
"What?" he blurted.
"I'm not even sure he can last until our child is born."
He didn't know what to say for a moment. "You've kept that secret very successfully."
"Outside of Belitar, you may be the only person who knows."
"May be?"
"We believe Kiloran suspects."
"Dar give me patience!" Tansen said in exasperation. "You didn't think this news was worth sharing with me?"
"Baran wouldn't let me," she said. "It was his secret, and he wanted it kept. I've told no one until now."
"Not even Cheylan?" he prodded.
"No."
A new thought occurred to him. "Did you tell Cheylan about the Beyah-Olvari?"
"No, he doesn't know about them. That, too, is Baran's secret, not mine." Her eyes asked him to appreciate that for him, and him alone, she was violating her husband's confidences.
Tansen didn't even know what to think, with these eruptions she had suddenly set off inside of him one after another tonight. She was carrying a child who would be a water sorceress, and she was urging him to accept that there would always be such power in Sileria, that they mustn't try to eliminate it completely from their land. She would be a widow within the year, free of that madman she had married... and to whom she had become... Attached? Devoted? Darfire, it was obscene! Meanwhile, Kiloran might know that Baran, their most important ally against him, was dying, and all the old waterlord had to do was wait for that happy event.
"Can we win the war without Baran?" Mirabar asked.
"It doesn't matter, does it?" Tansen said sourly. "If the answer's no, it's not as if we can force him to live longer." He eyed her suspiciously, wondering what other strange surprises she might have in store for him. "Or is it?"
"Sister Velikar does her best, and Baran's will to live is strong. He doesn't want to die without destroying Kiloran. He doesn't want our daughter to face Kiloran someday."
The words our daughter cut through Tansen fiercely, linking Mirabar to Baran in a way which excluded him.
"In that case, why hasn't Baran done it yet?" Tansen snapped. "Why is Kiloran's power still secure?"
"Because it's far from easy."
"So you're defending that madman and his inabil—"
"You're being unreasonable."
"I'm not..." Actually, yes, he supposed he was. "There's no..." Oh, why bother? "It's hard for me," he admitted, "to listen to you talk about him as you do while you sit there with his child in your body."
"Then perhaps you can finally understand," she said quietly, "how hard it is for me to know that you still care for Elelar. That you always will."
"I always understood, Mirabar," he said wearily. "It wasn't what I wanted, but it was something I could never change. I still
can't, not even now. Anymore than I can change... how I feel about you."
"Yes." Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper. "That's what I finally understand."
He watched the faint shifting light play over her sculpted cheekbones and waited for her fire-blessed eyes to meet his. When they did, she said, "I didn't want to care for a half-mad waterlord who has already hurt far more people than Elelar will hurt in the whole of her life. I don't love him. I often despise him. I sometimes fear him. But I care for him. And whether that's right or wrong, I can't change it."
Tansen thought she might as well cut out his heart with one of his swords, because it would hurt less than hearing her express such feelings for the man whose bed she shared. "I'm sorry," he said at last, his throat a little raw. "I don't think I really understood, after all, how it's always made you feel that I can't just... kill her, or hate her, or even be indifferent to her."
"No, I really didn't think you did." A moment later she added softly, "Until now."
"And since neither of us knows what will happen now, or who'll live and who'll die, I want you to know..." He reached out and took her hand. "You're the one I love."
Her mouth trembled in the flickering light. "I know." She reached out to touch his face, and he closed his eyes, letting himself pretend it was only the beginning. "And loving a man who isn't my husband isn't something I can stop or change, either."
"Does he know?" Tansen whispered.
"Ever since the moment he found you trying to talk me out of marrying him."
His eyes flew open. "What did he—Has he ever—"
"Oh, he's not jealous or angry about it." Mirabar shook her head. "Depending on his mood, he either thinks it's funny or else pities me."
"I have never understood him," Tansen muttered.
"But I do," she said. "And learning to understand him saved me from becoming like him. Knowing Baran has taught me that someone gifted with as much power as he has—as I have—can't afford such bitter, obsessive hatred."
He'd rather dwell on Baran's death than on his character flaws. Fresh hope sent Tansen's heart soaring, making him feel strong and optimistic again, despite everything else falling apart all around him. This was his opportunity to claim the woman he loved, after believing she was lost to him. He boldly kissed Mirabar's hand and then held it against his cheek. "If Baran's dying, then soon you'll be free to—"
"It doesn't seem right to talk about it," she said, her palm warm against his skin. "I mean..."
"To talk about what we'll do when he's dead?"
"It feels... disloyal."
Part of him was appalled by this sentiment, but the rest of him was still shallah enough to understand that he shouldn't dishonor her by forcing his point. So he nodded, stood up, and helped her rise, too.
"In that case," he said, "I think it's time for me to return you to Faradar."
She nodded, too, accepting that they had moved too far forward to retreat easily back into safe territory tonight. "When will your men start returning to report on whether or not Cheylan has been seen?"
"A few days, I would think." He turned and let his gaze survey the many men camped in these ruins. "Hopefully Jagodan will have arrived by then, we'll have ended the bloodfeud, and we can devote our full attention to hunting Cheylan as soon as we get news of him."
"May Dar make it so," she prayed, because she was still on speaking terms with the destroyer goddess.
Chapter Twenty
Wine is sweet, but the
blood of men is sweeter.
—Jagodan shah Lironi
The brassy sunshine of the late dry season was heavily dimmed by the smoke and ash filling the sky. The volcano had been menacingly active throughout the past two days and nights, with showering explosions of lava spewing straight up out of the caldera to mingle with the dancing lights and colored clouds which surrounded the mountain's peak. Loud explosions coming from Darshon woke Mirabar on those rare occasions when her nerves even allowed her to fall asleep. Towering columns of dark smoke billowed out of the caldera more and more frequently. Shimmering ash had fallen on Gamalan throughout most of the day, and it was now ankle-deep in some places. Mirabar tried to shake some of it off her expensive boots as she crossed what had once been the village's main square and looked for Tansen.
She knew he wasn't happy about her choice to leave certain things unsaid between them, but he respected her wishes. She suspected Baran would be amused if he knew about her scruples, but it nonetheless felt wrong to plot with the man she loved about what they'd do once her dying husband was safely on the funeral pyre. Meanwhile, there was real understanding between her and Tansen, perhaps for the first time, and that was not a gift either of them took for granted. However, the feelings between them were also stronger than ever now, so they had avoided speaking privately again after her first night here, three days ago; the temptation to violate her wedding vows was unbearable, and she could tell that Tansen knew it and didn't enjoy the struggle any more than she did.
The tension among everyone gathered in Gamalan was also unbearable. Jagodan's continued absence inspired some of the men here to claim that he didn't intend to come, and to insist they were wasting their time here; they should go hunt down all the Lironi and slaughter them like the beasts they were. In addition, the persistent thunder and roar of the volcano scared them all; and since shallaheen didn't like to admit fear, they let it come out as quarrelsome bad temper. And even if they didn't all die here in an eruption, an earthquake, or an avalanche, they foresaw a terrible harvest if the volcano didn't stop these rages soon: Everyone here knew what would happen when the sky became too dark for the remaining drought-withered crops to survive.
"Not that it will matter," one of them said, "what happens to the sky if the rains don't come—and soon."
"The rains will come. They must come."
"But if they don't come this year, we're all as good as dead."
"Why worry? The volcano will kill us before we can leave this miserable, haunted place to starve to death somewhere else."
Feeling depressed by such comments, Mirabar finally found Tansen talking with a very dusty-looking man. When Tansen saw her, he dismissed the other man and said, "It's good news, Mira. Cheylan and a woman were seen riding away from a toren's hunting lodge a few days after Elelar left her estate with him."
"Then they are here!" It was the first real confirmation she'd had that she wasn't looking in the wrong part of Sileria.
"And they were heading toward Darshon."
"Can we go after them?" When Tansen started to shake his head, she said, "I know you have to wait for Jagodan, but I can—"
"I don't want you going after Cheylan alone."
"Then send men with me."
"I meant, alone without me. And I definitely don't want you wandering the countryside without me. Verlon's assassins are everywhere, and he may have already heard that you're in the district."
"But I can't just—"
"Mirabar, all we've done so far is confirm that you're right, Cheylan's in the district and probably close to Darshon. You believed that already, and this information doesn't give us a better idea of where to look for him."
"But—"
"Give the men a few more days to find something else, something more specific. Cheylan was seen once, so it's likely he'll be seen again."
She bit her lip, folded her hands together, and nodded her head. Tansen was thinking more clearly than she was, and he was right.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, changing the subject.
She unfolded her hands and smoothed them over her stomach. "Not bad. Just tired."
"Yes, I don't think anyone here has gotten much sleep these past two nights."
She sighed. "And it's making them..."
Mirabar stopped speaking as a terrible rumbling swept through her and filled the air around her. There was a fierce explosion, followed by the sound of crashing rock. The ground started shaking—subtly at first, and then wit
h sudden, violent heaves that knocked her off her feet. Somehow Tansen's arms were around her and he cushioned her fall. Then he rolled on top of her, shielding her with his body as he pressed her face into his shoulder.
Mirabar clutched at him and ground her teeth together, praying for the earthquake to stop. She heard an ear-splitting crack, then a horrifying shower of rocks thundering down the mountainside. Pebbles rattled against the ground all around them, and a sharp one struck her calf, making her grunt. She heard men screaming, then there was an inhuman spine-chilling screech that sounded as if the mountains themselves were screaming.
Then, gradually, she heard something else in the midst of the terrible cacophony... She finally recognized it as the frantic pounding of her own heart—or maybe Tansen's heart. His chest was pressed so hard against hers that she could scarcely breathe. But she must be breathing, because she could hear herself panting. Or was that him?
Both of us...
Heartbeat. Breathing. Yes, she could hear these things now, and she realized that the thundering of the ground was already drifting into a dying rumble.
Mirabar was shaking hard when Tansen finally helped her to her feet. His hands held her shoulders as he looked her over, his dark gaze intent. "Are you hurt?" he asked.
She shook her head, still not ready to speak, then raised a hand to the gash on his cheek and showed him her bloody fingertips so he'd realize that he was hurt.
He barely acknowledged the sight before pressing his palm over the slight bulge of her belly. "You're not... I mean, nothing's hurt? You're sure?"
She placed her hand over his. "I..." She coughed. "I feel fine. Just... you know."
Tansen nodded and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her fiercely. She hugged him back.
His heartbeat, his warmth, the strength of his arms, the brush of his lips on her hair...
Then he made a strangled sound, pushed her away, and whirled around, gazing east. It took her only a moment to realize why he seemed to be staring into thin air.
"You're thinking of Zarien," she said. "At sea." Due east of here.
"Yes. I didn't think this would happen here. Not while he was at sea."
The Destroyer Goddess Page 36