"We expect you," Searlon said to the two Valdani, "to honor your treaty with us."
Cyrill said skeptically to Searlon, "You've never before mentioned this close association you have with Torena Elelar."
Searlon's expression suggested Cyrill was even stupider than he had supposed. "Apart from the master I serve, have I mentioned any of my associates to you, roshah?"
"Oh, for the love of Dar." Elelar sighed. "Who do you think escorted me to the meeting where we negotiated the secret treaty?"
Kaynall's gaze flashed to Searlon, who'd been her escort, and she saw that he remembered.
Cyrill sneered and said, "Ah. For a moment I had forgotten who we're dealing with: the most experienced whore in Sileria."
"Watch your tongue." Searlon's cold voice cut across Elelar's gasp of outrage.
"Does she warm your bed now that my uncle is dead?" Cyrill asked Searlon nastily. "Is she your wh—"
"She is a Silerian woman," Searlon replied in a chilly tone. "And therefore I cannot permit you to insult her in my presence."
"Permit?" Cyrill repeated.
"We're getting off the subject," Kaynall pointed out.
"Indeed," Searlon agreed.
The Advisor said, "If Kiloran's murder of Josarian was due to their quarrel, then—"
"Then it changes nothing," Searlon said. "Josarian is dead, as p—"
"Not having a corpse changes a great deal," said Kaynall.
"That is the fault of the Outlookers," Searlon insisted. "We are not to blame."
The Advisor shook his head. "Nevertheless—"
"My master has been in the Alliance since long before you came to Sileria," said Searlon. "Since long before I went to serve him, and even long before the torena was born. Kiloran was the first waterlord to join the Alliance."
Kaynall stared at him now, interested, perhaps even swayed. Elelar realized that he hadn't guessed this—had perhaps never even guessed that Kiloran was in the Alliance at all.
"The torena's grandfather, who founded the Alliance," Searlon continued, "broke centuries of tradition by extending his hand in friendship to a waterlord." He arched one brow and added, "This was, of course, after the Emperor swore to destroy the Society and the Outlookers began to make war on it. If not for that..." The assassin's scar elongated into a dimple as he said, "Well, Eminence, none of this might ever have happened."
Kaynall looked with interest from one Silerian to the other. After a long moment, he murmured, "So. I almost feel sorry for Josarian."
"That," Searlon said, "is because you never knew him, Eminence."
A cry came through the window: "Free Sileria!"
Kaynall glared at Elelar. "You arranged this, didn't you?"
"Her?" Cyrill asked stupidly. Then his eyes widened as he gazed at Elelar. "Of course!"
She took the plunge. "I strongly suggest, Eminence, that you announce the Valdani surrender to that crowd out there."
Cyrill snarled, "No Silerian whore tells us—"
"Be reasonable, torena," Kaynall said, giving Cyrill a warning glance. "To relinquish Sileria based on—"
"You've already lost Sileria," said Elelar. "Even as we speak, rebel groups are descending on the last of your scattered outposts in the countryside. You've lost everything but Shaljir, and how long can you possibly hold on here?"
"A lot longer than you seem to think," said Cyrill.
"Beyond the city walls," she said, "lies the power and the determination which fought for and seized all that you have lost here, from Liron to Cavasar. And it's all now fully concentrated on taking Shaljir."
"Oh? Really?" Kaynall said, "I understood that there was some division among the rebel forces."
"It has not prevented us from hating you more than we hate each other," Elelar replied. "Nor will it prevent us from staying unified long enough to destroy you all, if you make that necessary." She caught Cyrill's eye. "We sacrificed Josarian. We destroyed the mines of Alizar. We—"
"I thought they were merely flooded," said Cyrill.
"They can never be mined again," Searlon lied smoothly.
"We poisoned our own wells, killed our own traitors, and sent our own loved ones to certain death." Elelar leaned toward Kaynall. "So just imagine, Eminence, what we're willing to do you, the remaining Valdani, in order to free Sileria now."
"A bit of patience," Kaynall said, "is needed when—"
"We've run out of patience," Searlon said. "Surrender."
"Or what?" Cyrill prompted with open disdain.
"If you do not announce your surrender by sundown," Elelar lied, "our allies will make the secret treaty public in Valda."
Kaynall looked startled, then shook his head. "If they did that, they couldn't keep it from becoming public here, too. Do you really want all of Sileria to know that the Alliance betrayed the so-called Firebringer?"
The Valdani had, of course, always remained highly skeptical—even openly contemptuous—of Josarian's divine rebirth in the Fires of Dar. But no one in Sileria cared what they thought, least of all Elelar.
"No, we don't," she admitted. "But if you refuse to honor your treaty—now, today, before sundown—then you leave us no choice. There are very few of our names on that treaty, and we are willing to accept the consequences of exposure." Her gaze encompassed both Valdani men as she said, "Neither of you has been in Sileria very long, but it has perhaps been long enough for you to observe that we are not afraid to die."
"Long enough to observe that life is cheap here," Cyrill amended.
She ignored him as she continued, "The consequences to Sileria, if the treaty becomes public, will be minor. Five of us signed a dishonorable treaty in secret, and five of us will die for it. Tansen had no part of it and, as the dead Firebringer's brother—"
"His what?" Cyrill blurted.
"—he will be elevated to even greater heroic status than he already enjoys."
"They weren't brothers," Cyrill said uncertainly. The Outlookers had learned all they could, which wasn't much, about the rebel leaders.
"Nothing in writing connects Kiloran or the Honored Society with the treaty, either," Elelar pointed out. "Whereas it will look very bad, indeed, when the citizens of Valdania find out how you, acting on the orders of the Imperial Council, sacrificed Outlookers, cities, rural districts, Valdani-owned lands, and even High Commander Koroll's life, giving up the jewel of the Middle Sea piece by piece because you were too weak to hold it while you waged your costly wars on the mainland."
The crowd outside, in Santorell Square, was growing dangerously impatient. "Free Sileria!"
"Exposure will be more than a little awkward for you, Eminence," Searlon joined in. "And as for the Imperial Council's fate..." He shrugged gracefully. "Well, this is the sort of incident that foments riot, rebellion, and revolution, isn't it?"
"You know little of Valda," Cyrill said arrogantly.
Elelar said, "Our dispatches tell us that there is rioting in Valda over high taxes, food shortages, and enforced conscription into the Emperor's armies."
"How long has the current dynasty been in power?" Searlon asked. "Might not some ambitious Valdan with military and political power convince his supporters, in view of Emperor Jarell's shameful loss of Sileria, that it's time for new blood to seize the throne?"
"As for you..." Elelar shook her head. "Well, your fate, like that of the Imperial Councilors, is easy enough to guess should the treaty become public knowledge."
"Free Sileria! Free Sileria! Free Sileria!"
"Eminence," Cyrill said, looking doubtfully at Kaynall. "Surely you're not listening to—"
"Be quiet," Kaynall snapped. "This is a political matter, not a military one."
"Well, Eminence?" Searlon said.
"If you have indeed arranged to expose the treaty..." Kaynall said slowly.
"Yes?"
"If that is so... You must arrange for a postponement."
Elelar felt her heart sink with disappointment. "We cannot."
&nb
sp; "I don't believe you."
"It's true," she lied. There were, of course, no arrangements to expose the treaty; there hadn't been time. And Elelar knew that Tansen couldn't afford any delays. He was counting on her to secure Shaljir for him now. So she maintained her bluff.
"I cannot surrender Sileria without communicating with the Imperial Council," Kaynall argued. "That will take time."
"A ship to the mainland?" Elelar let some of her anger show. "Debates in the Council? Another ship back? Too much time, Eminence."
"Nonetheless—"
"And there should be no need," she said. "The treaty stipulates—"
"That you would produce a body!"
"And if we had produced a body, would you surrender now?" Searlon asked coldly. "Or would there still be this need for delay, for consultation with the Council, for—"
Cyrill said, "Well you haven't produced a body. So we'll never know, will we?"
"Did you ever intend to honor the treaty?" Elelar demanded.
"I have stated my terms," Kaynall said. "Postpone—"
"Enough of this," Searlon said.
He moved so fast that Elelar scarcely understood what was happening until it was over. There was a short, sharp cry of mingled surprise and pain from Cyrill as Searlon lunged forward and hit him in the face. Some drops of blood sprayed Kaynall when Cyrill's head snapped around. Kaynall jumped to his feet as Searlon seized Cyrill's head and made a violent twisting motion. Elelar heard a strange snap! and stared in confusion as Cyrill suddenly went limp and unresisting in Searlon's grasp.
Only when the body hit the floor with a dull thud did she realize what the assassin had done.
"Free Sileria! Free Sileria! Free Sileria!"
Kaynall was backing away, stumbling clumsily in his haste to escape Searlon. His mouth worked, but only a whispered, "Gu—gua—guar—" came out.
"Stop him," Searlon commanded.
Heart pounding with panic and horror, Elelar obeyed without conscious volition. She stretched out a slippered foot and shoved a chair behind Kaynall, obstructing his retreat. He backed into it, flailed briefly, and fell to the floor. Searlon was upon him before he'd even recovered his breath, let alone tried to get up.
As Searlon hauled the Advisor to his feet, Elelar choked out, "What are you doing?"
The assassin ignored her. "Time to make that announcement, Eminence."
"I... ah... ah..."
"Dar have mercy," Elelar said hoarsely, staring at Cyrill's corpse. "You've killed him!"
This was not part of the plan.
Searlon shook Kaynall. "Do we need to tell you what to say?"
Gasping for air, Kaynall shook his head.
Searlon hadn't used his shir, Elelar thought in a daze. No, of course not, she realized; the Valdani wouldn't let an armed assassin roam the halls of Santorell Palace. He was probably searched every time he entered Kaynall's presence. So he'd had to kill Cyrill with his bare hands.
This was not the plan!
Not the plan they'd made together, anyhow. Searlon was in charge now, moving events along according to his own plan, one that he hadn't confided to her.
"Then onto the balcony, Eminence." The assassin glanced at Elelar. "Would you mind opening the doors, torena?"
"Free Sileria! Free Sileria! Free Sileria!"
She gaped at Searlon in shocked silence for a moment, then numbly moved to do as he asked, opening the glass doors that led onto the balcony overlooking the immense crowd in Santorell Square. The thousands of people gathered below them abandoned their chant as the doors opened, and they began cheering wildly in expectation of the announcement.
Searlon shoved the trembling Imperial Advisor onto the balcony and warned him, "I'm right here, Eminence."
Kaynall nodded his understanding. He was sweating. Drops of Cyrill's blood stained his clothing. Elelar and Searlon stood on either side of him. Kaynall flashed Elelar a desperate, pleading glance.
"He'll do it, Eminence," she said with a coolness she was far from feeling. "The crowd will only cheer him on. And as for your guards..."
Fires of Dar, we've murdered a Valdan right in the heart of Santorell Palace! We'll never leave here alive.
Elelar shrugged. "Well, they can only arrest us once, after all, no matter how many people we kill."
"I suggest," Searlon said, raising his voice to be heard above the cheering crowd, "that you listen to Torena Elelar."
Lips trembling, Kaynall raised his arms to ask for the crowd's silence. It took more than a few moments, during which time Elelar kept listening for the sound of palace guards coming to arrest her. In the square below, the immense and gaudy Sign of the Three, erected here two hundred years ago, gleamed under the dazzling Silerian sunshine, making her eyes water a little as she stared at it with an unfocused gaze. As the noise of the crowd slowly faded, the pounding of Elelar's heart filled her ears. Finally, when he knew he could be heard, the Imperial Advisor addressed the long-conquered citizens of Shaljir.
"People of Sileria," he began. "After long and difficult negotiations with the rebel alliance..." He was obliged to pause as another cheer floated up from Santorell Square. "The Empire of Valdania has agreed to surrender Sileria to native rule."
The crowd went wild. The roar of victory made Elelar's head spin. For a moment, she forgot her horror, Searlon's reckless ploy, the Valdani corpse lying only a few paces behind her... For a moment, she forgot everything as she realized stunned amazement that it had happened.
The Valdani had surrendered.
The long years of sacrifice, the hard work, the bitter intrigues, the subterfuge that had ruled her life...
Done. Over. Finished.
Success.
The Valdani were leaving Sileria.
Pillars of fire rose from the crowd, startling her. She looked down and saw four Guardians—now openly revealing their identity, free of Valdani laws for the first time in two hundred years—with golden flames leaping skyward from their bare palms, faces jubilant as they celebrated.
Women threw their hand-painted scarves high into the air, creating a dance of floating color in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Men raised their children aloft, holding them high, making sure they could see Kaynall, the last Imperial Advisor in Sileria, at the moment the Valdani surrendered. The moment Sileria become free for the first time in a thousand years.
Free. We're free.
The thousands of deaths, the hundreds of funeral pyres, the lives cut short, the bloody battles, the razed villages, the burned crops... It had all been worth it. They had not been wrong. They had not fought, died, or sacrificed in vain.
She heard a new chant commencing in the square, a new creed for Sileria to live by.
"Native rule! Native rule! Native rule!"
From the sacred rainbow chalk cliffs of Liron to the exotic port city of Cavasar, from the snow-capped peak of Darshon to the crumbling Guardian temples of Adalian, from the golden beaches of the coasts to the merciless beauty of the mountains, Sileria belonged only to the Silerians now.
She felt tears streaming down her face and didn't bother to wipe them away. Her heart pounded with what she recognized as the only pure, uncomplicated moment of happiness she'd ever known.
She had been born to a humiliated race, a people whose faces had been forced into the dust centuries ago. And for the first time in a thousand years, they had lifted their heads and proven to a skeptical world that they could, once again, be the strongest, proudest, bravest people in the three corners of the world.
Overcome by emotion, she turned to Searlon, the only other Silerian within reach, and met his gaze. He looked solemn, with no trace of the sardonic light that was usually present in his dark eyes.
"We're free," she choked out. "We're free."
He nodded and smiled openly, for once without cynicism or irony. "We're free." She could barely hear his soft voice over the din of the joyous crowd below.
Their gazes held for a long moment of mutual underst
anding before Searlon's gaze flickered back to Kaynall. "But it never hurts to be sure." He leaned closer to the Advisor and said, "Tell them when you're leaving."
Kaynall flashed another panicked look at Elelar. "But we've made no plans, no—"
"Make your plans now," the assassin advised. "Quickly, Eminence."
Kaynall held up his hands again. It took even longer, this time, for the crowd to quiet down. "At sunrise tomorrow, we will commence preparations for evacuation of Sileria and the unconditional surrender of Shaljir!"
When the cheering finally died down enough for him to speak again, Kaynall continued, "I ask you now, as people who have shared this city with us for two hundred years..." Kaynall was obliged to raise his voice as his audience started shouting him down. "Let these final days which we spend together..." He paused in consternation at the derisive sounds coming from below. "... be peaceful ones!"
Distinctly uninterested in the wishes of the departing Valdani, the crowd became increasingly noisy. "And for those Valdani... who wish to leave Shaljir with..." Kaynall tried harder to be heard. "... with the departing imperial Outlookers... report... report to Santorell Palace—"
Searlon interrupted him. "I think you've made your point, Eminence."
Kaynall said coldly, "Then may I go inside?"
"Yes," Searlon said. "There is still the treaty to sign."
This, at least, was part of the plans the assassin had made with Elelar. While it was unlikely that Kaynall would deny such a public proclamation of surrender, it never hurt, as Searlon had noted, to be sure. Elelar had prepared a document for Kaynall's signature which would further bind the Imperial Advisor and his government to the promises he had just made on this balcony. She reached beneath the broad sash tied around the waist of her long silk tunic and produced the document now, a single sheet of parchment.
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