Priestess of the White

“The war council is about to begin,” she called. “I want you to come with me.”

“Me?” he exclaimed.

“Yes. I can probably take a few companions, but I doubt I could get away with bringing all fourteen Speakers with me. I’d rather not choose between them, so I’ll take someone else instead.”

His heart was racing. “I don’t know anything about planning a war!”

She laughed. “Neither do I! I know one thing though. You’re clever. You think differently to me. There’s no point bringing someone who thinks like me, because they’ll probably only see the same problems and have the same ideas that I will. I need a companion who’ll understand what I don’t understand.”

“I might not understand anything.”

“I doubt that. So, are you coming?”

He grinned. “Yes!”

“Good!”

She swooped downward and he followed. They glided toward the white tent, where a small crowd of landwalkers had gathered. Only one of the group glanced upward and saw Tryss and Sirri approaching. As they landed the rest exclaimed in surprise and turned to stare at them. The one who had noticed them stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest.

“Lanren Songmaker,” he said. Opening his hand, he gestured to Sirri. “Hed Speekr Seerree?”

Sirri nodded. She looked at Tryss and spoke his name. The landwalker’s eyebrows rose. He waved a finger across his chest, then mimed shooting an arrow. Sirri nodded again. The landwalker pointed to his head and made a signal with his thumb that looked vaguely silly, but seemed to imply approval.

Tryss smiled and nodded to indicate he understood. Being praised so publicly ought to have embarrassed him, but instead he felt a growing dismay. These landwalkers didn’t know the Siyee language, and he didn’t know theirs. How was he going to help Sirri if he couldn’t understand a word spoken at the war council?

The man named Songmaker turned and introduced the others. He managed to make himself clear, despite the language difficulties. By saying “Hed Speekr” and pointing to one of the others, he told them that the person was a leader. Pointing to his head and mouth and then another person told them that the man or woman was present to provide thoughts and words to the leaders.

Advisers, Tryss thought. Like me.

A quiet woman in a multicolored vest smiled faintly as she was introduced. Sirri murmured to Tryss that this was one of the legendary Dreamweavers. Songmaker made the head and mouth gesture. Another adviser, Tryss concluded.

Songmaker then pointed at himself, patted the scabbard at his hip, then tapped his head.

So he is a warrior and adviser. A good man to befriends with during a war... if only there wasn’t this language problem. I wonder how long it would take to learn their tongue. The Siyee language had evolved from a landwalker one, so it might not be that difficult. Some words might be the same, or at least similar.

The attention of the landwalkers had shifted now. Tryss could not see past them to the source of their distraction, however. Then leaders and advisers alike stepped back and the White appeared.

They were impressive figures. Five handsome men and women, all dressed in white. The man who began to address the crowd - Juran - greeted the group in sober but warm tones. Auraya caught Tryss’s eye and smiled.

Juran turned to Sirri. “Welcome, Speaker Sirri - and this is Tryss the inventor, isn’t it?” he said in the Siyee language.

Tryss felt his face warm. He wasn’t sure what to say to this powerful, formidable man. Auraya chuckled.

“Yes, this is Hunter Tryss.” She said something else in the landwalker tongue, and Tryss realized she was translating. He sighed with relief when he knew his fears were unfounded. If Juran or Auraya translated everything, the war council would not be incomprehensible.

He watched as the White ushered the leaders and their advisers into the tent. The man named Moderator Meeran paused just before the entrance. Auraya beckoned to Sirri. Tryss followed as Sirri stepped forward to join the landwalker as he entered. Tryss guessed there was some significance in this. He would ask Auraya about it later, if he had the opportunity.

Inside the tent was a large table too high for Tryss to see what was on top. All but the White moved to chairs arranged in a circle around the walls of the tent. Two of these chairs were empty. Tryss frowned as Auraya gestured to them. They were landwalker-sized chairs. The seats were as high as Tryss’s chest.

They could have brought some smaller chairs for us, he grumbled. It seems a bit rude...

Sirri didn’t complain, however. She moved to one and sprang easily up onto the seat. Tryss was conscious of the many eyes on him as he leapt up onto the second chair. He turned to face the room and saw that he could now see the top of the table.

Ah, that’s the reason they didn’t.

A large sheet of thin material lay on the table. On it had been painted a colorful shape surrounded by blue. Looking closer, Tryss felt a thrill of amazement. This was a map - and he had never seen a map of such detail or scope. It was a map of the entire continent of Northern Ithania.

He stared at it, trying to work out where Si was. Eventually he realized the lines of scribbly upside-down “v” shapes were mountain ranges. The great mass of v’s near the bottom must be Si - it was the most mountainous part of Northern Ithania. He could not make sense of the placement of the individual mountains, however. Since no landwalker had ever charted Si, as far as he knew, the mapmaker had probably guessed their placement.

The White’s leader, Juran, began to speak. As he did, Auraya moved away from the table and slipped between Sirri’s and Tryss’s chairs.

“He says that we will begin by discussing how the Siyee can assist us before and during the battle,” she murmured. “Since he’ll be mainly talking to you, he’ll speak your language as best he can, and Dyara will translate to the others.”

Sirri nodded. Juran turned to face her.

“Welcome to the war Gathering, Head Speaker Sirri,” he said, forming the words slowly and carefully. The woman, Dyara, translated for the others in a murmur.

“Thank you, Juran, leader of the White,” Sirri replied. “I am eager to help in any way I can.”

He smiled. “How you may help us is what we will discuss tonight. What do you wish your people’s role to be?”

Sirri paused. “As archers of the air,” she said. “As eyes in the sky.”

“Indeed, that is how I imagine they would be best employed,” Juran agreed. “I do not think it wise to send you out to randomly attack our enemy during the battle. That would be risky and a waste of your potential. We should use every opportunity to surprise the enemy and work together on land and in the air to our best advantage.”

“How might that be done?” Sirri asked.

“Our war adviser, Lanren Songmaker, has many suggestions on this matter.”

Sirri looked at the man who had greeted them. “I am eager to hear them.”

“Then he will describe them now. Lanren?”

The friendly landwalker rose from his seat. At a nod from Juran he began to speak. Auraya translated. Tryss listened in fascination as possible encounters with the enemy were described, and how they might be resolved with the Siyee’s help. He had imagined the two armies clashing in one great confrontation, not in these carefully planned complex stages and layers of attack.

The man’s understanding of the Siyee’s limitations in flight was surprisingly good. It seemed Tryss had not been the only person watching and assessing the strengths and weaknesses of his allies. Then the man made a blunder, an assumption that the wind conditions in the mountains would be the same as on the plains. Tryss found himself interrupting. Too late, he realized what he had done and fell silent, his face burning.

“Don’t stop, Tryss,” Auraya murmured. “Speak up. This is what we are here for: to correct each other’s mistakes. Better now, than after they have caused deaths on the battlefield.”