Priestess of the White

“I believe he picked the lock of his cage again,” a male voice replied. Leiard strolled across the deck toward them. Auraya felt her heart leap at the sight of him. He had proved to be more useful in the role of adviser than she had hoped. It was so good to have his company on this journey. His presence gave her confidence.

“Cage bad,” the veez muttered.

“I heard the servants cursing him, and offered to bring him back,” Leiard told her.

“Thank you, Leiard.” She sighed. “I expect he’ll just do it again. He may as well stay with me.”

Leiard nodded. His gaze slid to Mairae, then his eyes dropped to the deck.

“Mairae of the White,” he said.

“Dreamweaver Leiard,” she replied.

He looked at Auraya again. “I will tell the servants he is with you.”

As he walked away, Mairae gave a small sigh. “I like tall men. He has nice eyes. Pity he’s a Dreamweaver.”

Auraya turned to stare at her fellow White in shock, as Mairae laughed. “Oh, Auraya. You are nearly as much a prude as Dyara. I don’t seriously want to bed him, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with admiring a man’s finer points any more than it’s wrong to admire a flower or a particularly well-bred reyer.”

Auraya shook her head reproachfully. “Nothing wrong at all, except I don’t want to be thinking of the men around me like that.”

“Why not?”

“I have to work with them. I don’t need the distraction of wondering what they’d be like in bed.”

Mairae chuckled. “One day you might, when you realize how many long, boring meetings you’re going to have to sit through in the future.”

Auraya could think of nothing to say to that.

A servant hurried out onto the stern and made the gesture of the circle. “Midday refreshments are ready,” she said. “Shall I bring them up here?”

“Yes, thank you,” Mairae replied. She rose and looked down at Auraya. “I guess we’re about to find out how well your adviser is dealing with sea travel.”

Auraya smiled and lifted the veez onto her shoulder. “I guess we will.”

10

There is a particular kind of tension that comes over people near the end of a journey. For the crew of the Herald it had to do with preparing for the subtler task of directing the ship into a port already crowded with vessels. For the passengers it was anticipation of leaving the discomfort of the seacraft behind, balanced by mingled hopes and doubts for what they might experience at their destination.

Leiard considered Auraya’s adviser, who was standing on the other side of the two seated White. Danjin Spear was intelligent and knowledgeable, and had been respectful toward Leiard, though occasional comments had betrayed his dislike of Dreamweavers in general.

He turned his attention to Mairae. Of all the White, apart from Auraya, she was the most friendly toward him. Her warmth appeared to be a natural part of her character rather than something practiced, but it was clear she preferred highborn company. While she sympathized with the poor and praised the hard-working merchants and artisans, she didn’t treat them the same way as she did the rich and powerful. He guessed she regarded Dreamweavers somewhere between the poor and artisans, and probably pitied rather than despised them.

Unlike Auraya, who neither pitied nor despised Dreamweavers. Leiard looked down at her and could not help feeling a little glow of pride. It was hard not to when he considered what she had achieved. The other White had accepted him and his advice, though some obviously did so begrudgingly.

They’re relying on me to make this alliance happen. Who would have guessed? The Gods’ Chosen relying on a Dreamweaver.

A gust of cold air swept over them, taking the ship ever closer to the city. Arbeem’s square whitestone houses were built on a slope that dropped steeply toward the water. They looked like a jumble of oversized staircases. Occasional patches of green broke the endless white. Somreyans loved gardens.

In the center of the port an enormous statue stood upon a massive column. The weathering it had suffered suggested immense age and rendered the face almost unrecognizable. A memory flashed into Leiard’s mind, jolting him with its strength. It was of the same statue, but less weathered. A name came with it.

Svarlen. God of the sea.

This had to be a link memory - and an ancient one. Leiard gazed up at the colossus as the ship passed it, allowing the old image of a newer statue to overlay the reality of it now. He heard a horn blowing and turned to face the city again.

A boat was moving forward to meet them, propelled by rowers. It was wide-berthed and spectacularly decorated, the emblem of the Council of Elders painted on its sail.

The captain of the Herald called an order. The sail was furled and the ship drifted to a halt. As the council boat pulled alongside, both crews threw ropes to the other vessel and secured the craft together.

Three important-looking individuals stood on board the boat, each wearing the gold sash of a member of the Council of Elders. To the left was a robust, gray-haired high priest. His name was Haleed, Leiard recalled. To the right was a middle-aged woman in a Dreamweaver vest. This would be Arleej, the Dreamweaver elder. The leader of his people.

He had been looking forward to meeting this woman. In the messages sent between the council and the White via priests in both lands, Leiard had seen hints of a sharp-minded, proud woman. Pride was not a characteristic Dreamweavers were encouraged to display, but neither was judging too quickly, he reminded himself. The leader of the Dreamweavers would need to be strong in this age.

The third man on the boat, standing between the others, was thin and elderly, but though he carried a walking staff his eyes were clear and alert. This, Leiard guessed, was the council’s Moderator, Meeran.

Rising from their seat, Auraya and Mairae thanked the captain of the Herald then crossed to the welcoming craft. Leiard and Danjin followed, the adviser carrying Mischief in his cage. A sulky muttering came from the veez. During the journey Auraya had taught her pet to endure imprisonment in exchange for generous rewards. Despite this, his tolerance for the cage lasted no longer than an hour.

As soon as the White were aboard, Meeran stepped forward.

“Welcome to Somrey, Chosen of the Gods.” He bowed slightly then made the formal sign of the circle. “I am Moderator Meeran. It is our pleasure to see you again, Mairae Gemshaper, and an honor to be the first foreign land to receive Auraya Dyer.”

Arleej’s eyes slid to Leiard’s. Her stare was intense and questioning, and he sensed doubt and suspicion. He inclined his head, and she dropped her chin once in reply.

“We are delighted to be visiting your fair islands, Moderator Meeran,” Mairae replied, “and I am pleased to be renewing my acquaintance with you and all the council members.” She looked at Haleed and Arleej. The pair inclined their heads and murmured a reply.

“I have been looking forward to meeting each of you,” Auraya said, smiling with enthusiasm. Arleej’s lips curled upward in response, but her smile did not extend to her eyes. “I have heard much about the beauty of your land, and hope to see some of your country,” Auraya added, “if I have time.”

In other words, if we settle this quickly, Leiard thought.

“Then we must arrange a tour for you.” Meeran’s smile was genuine. His gaze then shifted past Mairae to Danjin. “This must be Danjin Spear. I had the pleasure of trading with your father, in my younger days.”

Danjin chuckled. “Yes. He spoke both admiringly and scathingly of your bargaining skills many times.”

Meeran’s smile widened. “I imagine he did, but I like to think those skills are put to better use now, for the benefit of the people.” His gaze flickered to Auraya, and Leiard wondered if she had noted the subtle warning in the man’s words. Then Meeran’s attention turned to Leiard. “And you must be Dreamweaver Adviser Leiard.”

Leiard nodded.

“Have you visited Somrey before?”