Priestess of the White

“Hello, Auraya.”

Auraya entered the tent. “Has something happened?”

“Nothing new.” Mairae shrugged. Her smile became more forced. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to visit you. Seems like I never get a chance to talk to anyone. It’s always war and politics. Never just talk, between two people.”

It was more than that, Auraya guessed. Something was bothering Mairae. Auraya didn’t need to read the woman’s mind to know it. She moved to the chest that Danjin had packed for her. Opening it, she lifted out two goblets and a bottle of tintra.

“Drink?”

Mairae grinned. “Thank you.”

Auraya filled the goblets. Mairae took one and drank deeply.

“So where did you go tonight? Just flying about?”

Auraya shrugged. “Yes.”

“Juran seems eager to face the Pentadrians. Have you noticed?”

“I wouldn’t have said he was ‘eager.’ More like... if he has to do it, he’ll do it well. How do you feel?”

“I... I’m dreading it,” Mairae admitted with a grimace. “You?”

“Definitely not looking forward to it,” Auraya smiled wryly. “I have no doubts, though. We’ll win. The gods will make sure of it.”

Mairae sighed and took another gulp of tintra. “It’s not defeat that I’m worried about. I dread the killing... the bloodshed.”

Auraya nodded.

“You don’t seem worried, though,” Mairae commented.

“Oh, I am. When I find myself thinking about it, I think of something else. It’s going to be horrible. Of that we can be sure. There’s no point tormenting myself now by imagining how horrible. It’ll be bad enough when it happens.”

Mairae considered Auraya thoughtfully. “Is that why you spent the last few nights flying around? Are you distracting yourself?”

“I suppose I must be.”

One of Mairae’s eyebrows lifted suggestively. “Is this distraction a ‘he’?”

Auraya blinked in surprise, then laughed. “If only!” She topped up Mairae’s goblet, then leaned forward. “Do you think I could persuade Juran to revoke the law against using a Dreamweaver’s services?”

Mairae’s eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised you haven’t attempted it already.”

“If I hadn’t been in Si I would have.” Auraya met and held Mairae’s eyes. “Do you think he would revoke it?”

“Perhaps.” Mairae frowned as she considered. “If he’s reluctant to, suggest lifting the ban for a set time after the battle.”

“I will. I would rest a little easier if I knew those that survive the battle might survive their injuries.”

“I don’t think it would make me rest any easier,” Mairae said glumly.

Auraya smiled. “Sounds like you need to find yourself a distraction, Mairae. Surely, in the greatest army Northern Ithania has ever seen, there’s a man or two who has caught your eye.”

Mairae’s eyes brightened. “Yes, quite a few actually, but with so many of my former lovers here as well I have to be on my best behavior. It wouldn’t do if I was seen to favor one ally over another.” She paused, and a thoughtful look came over her face. “Though there is one race I haven’t tried...”

Auraya felt a stab of horror as she realized what Mairae was considering.

“No!”

Mairae grinned. “Why not? They might be small, but—”

“It’s forbidden,” Auraya told her firmly. “By Huan. Matings with landwalkers produce deformed children.”

“But I won’t conceive.”

“No, but if you seduce any of them into breaking one of their most serious laws, you’ll mar or even destroy this new friendship between Siyee and landwalker.”

Mairae sighed. “I wasn’t all that enchanted by the idea, anyway.” She lifted her goblet to her lips, then hesitated. “Do you think anyone will mind if I don’t choose from the nobility? There’s a good-looking war-platten driver in the Genrian army. A real champion, that one.”

Auraya smothered a sigh. The rest of the night was not going to pass quickly.

36

Not long after Danjin had drifted into sleep he was startled awake again by someone poking at his legs. He opened his eyes just as the sensation became a warm weight, and looked down to find Mischief curling up on his lap.

He sighed and shook his head. No matter how carefully he locked the veez’s cage, the creature always managed to escape. He ought to put Mischief back, but the cage was underneath the opposite seat, behind the legs of Lanren Songmaker. The military adviser was asleep and Danjin did not want to disturb the man.

The veez was a welcome extra source of warmth, anyway. Wouldn’t my father love to see me now? I was hired for my intelligence and knowledge of the world, but all I have been useful for so far is as a pet’s guardian.

He looked around the tarn. All of the other occupants were asleep, even the new Dreamweaver adviser, Raeli. Her face had lost much of its rigid wariness. She was not a beautiful woman, but without the constant frown of tension marking her forehead she was not unattractive either.

Last night, over dinner, Auraya had told him that Raeli’s aloofness stemmed from fear and suspicion. The woman was afraid of ill-treatment and of making mistakes that might harm her people. She hesitated to make friends lest they betray her. Auraya assured him that Raeli noted and appreciated every friendly gesture made toward her. She had pointed out that he would find it easier to befriend the Dreamweaver than she would, as one of the White. He had taken that as a hint that she wanted him to befriend Raeli for her.

It wouldn’t be easy. Raeli responded to most questions as briefly as possible. This morning, when he had entered the tarn with Mischief, a hint of warmth had entered Raeli’s gaze, and he began to consider whether the veez would provide common ground between himself and the Dreamweaver. She was Somreyan and keeping veez as pets was a Somreyan habit. Though he had no idea when he was supposed to find time to befriend her, when every moment of his day was taken up with war councils, attending to Auraya, or obeying the unspoken rule against chatter in the advisers’ tarn.

Danjin closed his eyes and sighed. It would be so much easier if Leiard hadn’t resigned. He hadn’t seen Leiard since the day he had visited the Dreamweaver in Jarime. Last night Auraya had mentioned speaking to Leiard the previous night. She told Danjin how, while flying about two nights ago, she had noticed an encampment of Dreamweavers in the distance. She had visited them, and found Leiard there.

That would have to have been after the war council. Doesn’t she need sleep?

He yawned. Perhaps not. But I do.

For a while his thoughts drifted. Weariness overcame the discomfort of sleeping upright and the jolting of the tarn as it trundled along the road. Then something kicked him in a way that made him grateful for the heavy leather vest protecting his groin. He started awake with a curse, and the first thing he saw was the veez slip under the flap covering the opening of the tarn and disappear. Next he realized he was the object of several reproachful stares. Throwing off the last vestiges of sleep, he leapt up and went in pursuit of the creature.

It was raining outside the tarn. The army was a long line of men, women, animals and vehicles. The column in front was more like a procession. The leaders of each nation had brought or been provided with spacious, decorated tarns and a regiment of elite troops. Ahead of all these was a large, covered tarn painted entirely white.