Sanctuary

only homes and possessions. Many of those who initially left would turn back after the first few hardships. But there were a great many Tians and Altans, and Sanctuary until now had been very small. The population of Sanctuary was about to be increased from both sides of this conflict, and Kiron could easily see that there had better be something in place to rule over them and adjudicate the inevitable differences before the influx became too great.

Though why he should be involved—

Well, only one way to find out. He gave Avatre a final caress, and left her basking in the heat while he sought the building Kaleth called the “House of All Gods.”

There had been too few priests and too few resources when they first came to Sanctuary to have a temple for each god. Kaleth had simply solved the problem himself by setting up the same sort of temple that the Healers and the Winged Ones had, in a great building that had surely once been a temple itself, with small shrines to every God the Altans knew around the walls of the chief room. As more buildings were uncovered and explored, little statues turned up that more or less resembled different Altan deities. Whenever that happened, he or Heklatis modified them to suit and put them at the appropriate shrine. There were several small rooms—looking exactly like the rooms where priests lived in the temples that Kiron knew. Kaleth and Marit lived there now.

The door to the House of All Gods stood open, and the Tian acolytes were busying themselves with various tasks as Kiron approached. It appeared that Kaleth had taken in the Tian priests as his guests. This would probably serve, but—

But we’d better get another sandstorm soon, Kiron thought, as he entered the door, moved to one side out of the way of traffic, and surveyed the crowded central hall.

As they had last night, those most closely involved with what Kiron was beginning to decide was going to become the council were seated in a rough circle, with other interested parties behind them. Fewer now than last night, but still . . . there were a lot of them in this audience. Interesting; once again, it was a mix of Tians and Altans, but now, instead of being completely separated into two groups, the Tians and Altans were at least sitting close to one another and if not yet talking, were at least trading cautious glances.

Kaleth, who was seated next to Lord Khumun and beside the chief Tian priest, glanced over at the doorway from time to time. When he finally spotted Kiron, he lifted his head and gestured to him to come in. “Kiron!” Kaleth called, when he made no move to enter the room. “Come sit beside Ari. You are to speak for the Jousters.”

His own head came up; to say he was startled was an understatement. How could he possibly speak for the Jousters? “But Ari—” he began. “Ari is older than I and, besides, Ari is more experienced—”

“Not in the sort of things we will be asking you new, young Jousters to do,” Lord Khumun pointed out, as Kiron made his way through the crowd to sit uneasily next to Ari on a flat cushion that one of the Tian acolytes handed to him. “His expertise dates to the days before, when no one had a tame dragon but himself, and even he will have to learn what you already know. And besides that—we have another purpose for Ari.”

Ari stirred, looking a little apprehensive at that pronouncement. But before he could say anything, Lord Ya- tiren stood up, and any murmuring sank into silence.

Lord Ya-tiren had never been the sort to have any patience with ostentation in his dress, so the plain kilt he wore and the simple collar, sash, and wig with it, would not have been out of place among any gathering of moderately prosperous men. It was not his physique that commanded the room either; like most Altans, especially compared with Tians, he was slender, and although he was in excellent condition, his was the build of a scholar or scribe, not a warrior.

It was something else entirely that set him apart; the feeling of completely unconscious authority, as if, all his life, men had listened to him and obeyed when he gave an order.

Which, of course, they had.

“I make bold to call this meeting into order. We are here because things have come to the point that we need a council of peers to govern us,” he said, in such reasonable tones that there was nodding all the way around. “I think we are all agreed on that, even our new—allies. And we were fairly agreed some time ago on who should sit on this council. But after last night, it is clear to me, and perhaps it has always been clear to Kaleth, that Sanctuary is not going to be the retreat for Altans alone that we once thought. It will be bigger, holding far more people, and a council alone will not suffice to govern it.”

He paused, but there was no sound of disagreement. “We are used to being ruled by Kings and Queens, both Altans and Tians alike. I believe most folk will be uneasy without such rulers. Perhaps a council might have served if Sanctuary was only to be home to a handful of Jousters, a few renegade Great Houses, and a gaggle of priests. But it is not. The common people of the Two Lands will be coming here, and we need a single figure—or perhaps, I should say, a pair—to serve as leaders. Our peoples are used to bringing their troubles to a single source of remedy, not a council. And there should be one deciding voice to cut through dissent and say, ‘this shall be’ when there is no clear agreement.”

There was murmuring, but it was the murmur of agreement rather than dissent. No one was going to argue . . . yet.

“You, my lord,” Ari began, but Lord Ya-tiren shook his head.

“I will not be accepted by Tians,” he pointed out, before any of the Tian priests could even think to object. “I would not even truly be accepted by Altans. By our laws, the ruler must be out of the royal bloodlines. Kaleth and Marit are already out of the succession, by reason that he is claimed by the gods and she is claimed by him. So aside from them, there is only one person here who matches that requirement.”

And he looked across the circle to where Nofret was sitting beside Ari, on the side opposite to Kiron. She looked up at him, eyes as wide as a startled gazelle.

“But!” she began, “I do not—I am not—” but Lord Khumun and Lord Ya-tiren together shook their heads.

“You must,” said Lord Ya-tiren. “We are all—all!—taking duties we feel we are ill-suited to. This must be yours. Besides, Nofret, you and your sister were trained to sit on the Twin Thrones. You may not have the experience, but you have the knowledge of how to lead, and you certainly have the example before you of how not to lead.”

“But Tians will never accept an Altan leader,” began Baket-ke-aput, his brow clouding. “There have been only two Queens who ruled in all of our history, and even then they ruled as Regents for their infant sons!”

Kaleth held up his hand. “We did not say she was to rule alone. In Alta, that would be unthinkable anyway. We are no longer to be ruled by the Sacred Twins, I think, but—” And now he looked at Ari, “—there is a logical partner for Nofret who would be accepted by the Altans. And that is you, Ari.”

Ari started visibly. He had not been expecting this! But then, by the murmurs, neither had anyone else. “I cannot see why—” Ari began.

“Only because you are far too modest. If I recall correctly, it is you, Ari, who more often than most, has the best ideas.” Kaleth lifted his right shoulder in a kind of shrug. “Ask anyone, and they will tell you. It is you who is the likeliest to devise solutions to problems quickly. But most important of all, you are a peace-maker. It is you who most often can take people who are quarreling and bring them to work together.”

“Oh, no—” Ari objected, shaking his head. “It is you, Kaleth, who does all that and more!”

“But only when under the hand of the gods! When I am myself, I am no better at it than—than Gan!” Kaleth replied, causing those who knew Gan well to laugh. Then his expression darkened, and grew serious. “Besides, no man can serve at two tables. The gods demand my time, and our history tells ill tales about those who thought to hold power over men while the gods demanded their own kind of service.”

“It says worse of those who styled themselves as Priest-Kings,” Heklatis put in dryly. “Or those who claimed to rule in the name of the gods. The temptation is to say that what you want and what the gods want is one and the same, and it is difficult for ordinary folk to prove otherwise.”

“As always, your tongue delivers wisdom as well as stings, Healer,” Kaleth said, nodding. “To be brief, then: I will not deny the gods what they will of me.”

Marit placed a hand on his shoulder; she said nothing, but her expression spoke as loudly as any words. No more shall I.

“I,” said Lord Ya-tiren, “would not be accepted by Tians, nor, more importantly, by Nofret. And, most importantly of all, the First Lady of my house would strip my skin from my flesh with her words if I were to try so foolish a thing.”