right! This is an evil—"
"No, not necessarily," Tashinar said.
"How can you say that? They are our enemies! They always have been. Worse than the Conquerors! Worse than the Valdani! How can I have visions of a warrior who will free us, whom I must help, if he's Harlon's son?"
"No, they say that—"
"Who says?"
"The shallaheen . They say that Armian is the Firebringer."
Mirabar was so surprised, she nearly keeled over. "The Firebringer ?"
"Yes." Tashinar added, "Sit down. You look like you're going to be sick."
"Well, wouldn't you?" Mirabar exclaimed. "Harlon's son?" She sank gracelessly to the ground. "Do the zanareen believe it?"
"Only if he passes the test."
"The Firebringer... I thought it was just a myth," Mirabar murmured. "Do you really think I'm waiting for the Firebringer?"
"I don't know. I've always thought..." Tashinar shrugged. "I've always thought the zanareen were mad."
"So does any sane person." Mirabar paused and then asked in confusion, "Is Armian one of them?"
"No, he's not even in Sileria. The shallaheen say that he was spirited away after Harlon's death. Just a helpless child at the time, he was taken across the Middle Sea to live in hiding somewhere, to keep him safe from the Valdani.
"Taken to the Kintish Kingdoms?"
"So they say, but who knows for sure?"
"Someone in the Society must know."
"If they do, they're not likely to tell us," Tashinar pointed out.
"How did he go from being Harlon's son to being the Firebringer?" Mirabar wondered.
"Oh, you know the sort of tales the shallaheen tell."
"I know how they worship the assassins," Mirabar said with disgust. "I know how they cower before the waterlords."
"Harlon was a hero to them, fighting the Valdani the way he did."
"Never mind that thousands of them died because of Harlon."
"The Valdani wanted Harlon's child. They wanted him badly. I remember it well. Many people must have risked their lives to get him safely out of Sileria and out of the Emperor's reach." Tashinar shrugged. "You know how stories spin out over the years. Armian was probably still a mere boy when people began telling tales of his great skill and courage as a warrior."
Mirabar scowled. "Even I could kill a man with an enchanted blade—especially an unarmed man." She had seen Society assassins at work and knew their ways.
"Still, Silerians have always preferred a homegrown killer to a foreign one," Tashinar said dryly.
"So people embroidered the story," Mirabar guessed, "and said Armian was destined to return to Sileria to fight the Valdani?"
"Yes. And with that, it was not surprising that some even began to say he was the Firebringer, the long-prophesied hero who would lead us again to the glory we once knew."
"Uh-huh. But first he has to please the zanareen by flinging himself into the volcano and surviving." Mirabar rolled her eyes. "In which case, we'll never be free."
"You speak of freedom so often now," Tashinar said quietly. "It's been a thousand years since we were free. Do you really think we will be again?"
Mirabar looked again at the strange symbol she had drawn in the dirt. Was the warrior coming from Kintish lands? Would he really free them?
He will succeed, and he will fail.
"I don't know, sirana ," she said at last. "I don't know."
Chapter Five
Josarian circled the tiny, isolated Sanctuary of the Sisterhood several times before finally concluding that it wasn't being watched. The Valdani were tightening their net, and it paid to be careful. Zimran had not been at their appointed meeting place, an old lightning-struck tree that was about three hours' walk from here. Josarian had arrived there to find a woven, knotted cord hanging from one of its branches; the message advised him to come here today after dark.
His brief life as an outlaw had already taught him to take nothing at face value, and it occurred to him that this might be a trap. The mysterious stranger who was searching the mountains for him knew their ways and
"No, not necessarily," Tashinar said.
"How can you say that? They are our enemies! They always have been. Worse than the Conquerors! Worse than the Valdani! How can I have visions of a warrior who will free us, whom I must help, if he's Harlon's son?"
"No, they say that—"
"Who says?"
"The shallaheen . They say that Armian is the Firebringer."
Mirabar was so surprised, she nearly keeled over. "The Firebringer ?"
"Yes." Tashinar added, "Sit down. You look like you're going to be sick."
"Well, wouldn't you?" Mirabar exclaimed. "Harlon's son?" She sank gracelessly to the ground. "Do the zanareen believe it?"
"Only if he passes the test."
"The Firebringer... I thought it was just a myth," Mirabar murmured. "Do you really think I'm waiting for the Firebringer?"
"I don't know. I've always thought..." Tashinar shrugged. "I've always thought the zanareen were mad."
"So does any sane person." Mirabar paused and then asked in confusion, "Is Armian one of them?"
"No, he's not even in Sileria. The shallaheen say that he was spirited away after Harlon's death. Just a helpless child at the time, he was taken across the Middle Sea to live in hiding somewhere, to keep him safe from the Valdani.
"Taken to the Kintish Kingdoms?"
"So they say, but who knows for sure?"
"Someone in the Society must know."
"If they do, they're not likely to tell us," Tashinar pointed out.
"How did he go from being Harlon's son to being the Firebringer?" Mirabar wondered.
"Oh, you know the sort of tales the shallaheen tell."
"I know how they worship the assassins," Mirabar said with disgust. "I know how they cower before the waterlords."
"Harlon was a hero to them, fighting the Valdani the way he did."
"Never mind that thousands of them died because of Harlon."
"The Valdani wanted Harlon's child. They wanted him badly. I remember it well. Many people must have risked their lives to get him safely out of Sileria and out of the Emperor's reach." Tashinar shrugged. "You know how stories spin out over the years. Armian was probably still a mere boy when people began telling tales of his great skill and courage as a warrior."
Mirabar scowled. "Even I could kill a man with an enchanted blade—especially an unarmed man." She had seen Society assassins at work and knew their ways.
"Still, Silerians have always preferred a homegrown killer to a foreign one," Tashinar said dryly.
"So people embroidered the story," Mirabar guessed, "and said Armian was destined to return to Sileria to fight the Valdani?"
"Yes. And with that, it was not surprising that some even began to say he was the Firebringer, the long-prophesied hero who would lead us again to the glory we once knew."
"Uh-huh. But first he has to please the zanareen by flinging himself into the volcano and surviving." Mirabar rolled her eyes. "In which case, we'll never be free."
"You speak of freedom so often now," Tashinar said quietly. "It's been a thousand years since we were free. Do you really think we will be again?"
Mirabar looked again at the strange symbol she had drawn in the dirt. Was the warrior coming from Kintish lands? Would he really free them?
He will succeed, and he will fail.
"I don't know, sirana ," she said at last. "I don't know."
Chapter Five
Josarian circled the tiny, isolated Sanctuary of the Sisterhood several times before finally concluding that it wasn't being watched. The Valdani were tightening their net, and it paid to be careful. Zimran had not been at their appointed meeting place, an old lightning-struck tree that was about three hours' walk from here. Josarian had arrived there to find a woven, knotted cord hanging from one of its branches; the message advised him to come here today after dark.
His brief life as an outlaw had already taught him to take nothing at face value, and it occurred to him that this might be a trap. The mysterious stranger who was searching the mountains for him knew their ways and
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