The Last of the Wilds

to wait like everyone else, she thought, smiling to herself. So much for being Imenja’s favored pet.

They followed the Voices out of the room. Two domestics approaching the door with trays of food paused and bowed their heads as the small parade of importance passed. Looking back, Reivan saw them exchange meaningful looks, then hurry away.

Soon she was noting other domestics and .a few Servants peering around corners or doors at them. She caught excited whispers and running footsteps. A feeling of growing expectation began to fill the Sanctuary. Distant shouts and calls could be heard, muffled behind walls or doors. A bell rang somewhere, then others. The Voices left the intimate passages of the Upper Sanctuary and started down the main corridor of the Middle Sanctuary. Reivan could see Servants ahead hurrying to join those waiting to hear the announcement. Others formed a small crowd that followed at a discreet distance.

The corridor of the Middle Sanctuary ended at a large courtyard. Imenja and the other Voices strode across this, the Companions following, and entered an airy hall. A crowd of black robes filled the room. Reivan recognized the faces of many Dedicated Servants. She wondered how long they had been waiting here.

The sound of chatter died and all heads turned toward the Voices, but the Pentadrian leaders did not stop. They crossed the hall and emerged at the top of the Main Stairs. As they appeared a roar of voices greeted them. The people of Glymma, and those who had travelled here to witness the election of the new First Voice, formed a great mass of upturned faces and waving arms.

The four Voices formed a line. Standing behind them, Reivan could not see their expressions. She closed her eyes and let the great sound of the cheering crowd wash over her.

“Fellow Pentadrians,” Imenja called, her voice rising above the noise.

The cheering dwindled reluctantly. Looking past Imenja, Reivan saw many overly bright eyes in the crowd, and bottles and mugs clutched in several hands. She chuckled quietly to herself.

It was a long wait. I guess they had to entertain themselves somehow.

“Fellow Pentadrians,” Imenja repeated. “We have gathered the votes of Servants from all over the world. The day has been long, but this was too important a task to be hurried. The tally has been counted.” She held up the impressively long roll of parchment. “We have a new First Voice!”

The crowd cheered again.

“Come forward, Dedicated Servants of the Gods!”

From the hall behind, men and women filed down the stairs. They began to form a long line across the bottom, turning to look up at the Voices.

One of these people has convinced most of the Servants of the Gods that he or she will be a good leader, Reivan thought. She considered all the histories she’d read, of philosophical discussions on the qualities of a good leader. Do any of these candidates have the right qualities? What if none of them have? Would the gods intervene? She frowned. That would be quite a slap in the face. It would imply that most Servants didn’t know how to choose a good leader.

Perhaps they don’t. She suddenly felt uneasy. How would they have chosen? She considered what she would have done, if she had been a Servant living far from Glymma. I guess I’d have dismissed anyone who’s caused trouble or made big mistakes. It would help if one of these people had proven his or herself capable of leading and making good decisions already. I think I’d prefer someone who’d fought in the war to one who hadn’t, but ultimately

I’d have to take a gamble, based on the information I had. I wouldn’t choose anyone I didn’t like. Nobody’s going to vote for someone they dislike.

The last of the Dedicated Servants joined the line. Imenja held up the roll of parchment. She waited until all was silent - or as quiet as a half-drunk crowd could manage. Then she let the parchment unroll.

“The Servants of the Gods have chosen Dedicated Servant Nekaun as the new First Voice. Come forward, Nekaun.”

As the crowd erupted in cheering again, Reivan felt her heart lift. She thought back to the man who had offered both congratulations and advice at her ordination, and smiled.

Oh, good, she thought.

Peering past Imenja’s shoulder, she watched Nekaun step forward. He looked composed and calm, but his eyes burned with excitement. I would have chosen him, she thought. He’s never made any great mistakes, has run the Temple of Hrun for a few years as well as fought in the war. He’s likeable and kind. And to top it off, he’s good-looking. That’s got to be an advantage in a leader.‘ What more could the gods want? She watched in admiration as he stopped a few steps before Imenja and made the sign of the star.

Imenja handed the parchment to Genza, who began to slowly roll it up again. From within her robe Imenja produced a star pendant. She held it up. The crowd slowly quietened.

“Accept this symbol of the gods,” she said, “and you accept an eternity of servitude to them and to their people. You will become the Voice with which they speak to mortals. You will become the Hand that toils for our benefit, and strikes down our enemies.”

He slowly reached out to take the chain, then bowed his head.

“I accept the burden and the responsibility,” he said.

He closed his eyes and draped the chain around his neck. Reivan saw him stiffen and an expression of wonder crossed his face. He straightened, looked up at Imenja and smiled.

“And the gods have accepted me.”

“Then take your place among us,” Imenja finished.

Still smiling, he stepped up beside her and turned to face the crowd. Imenja gestured toward him, while regarding the crowd.

“People of Glymma and beyond. Do you welcome Nekaun, First Voice of the Gods?”

The crowd responded with a roar of approval. Imenja turned her head to regard him. “Will you address the people?”

“I will.” He paused and waited until all was quiet. “My people. As I stand here before you I feel both joy and sadness. Joy that I have been gifted with the greatest opportunity to serve the gods that a man or woman may be given. Sadness that I take the place of a man I admired.

“I willingly take on the same responsibilities that he bore, because our aims are the same. We must rid the world of the heathen Circlians. But do not fear that I will lead you into another war. That has been tried, and through ill chance or the will of the gods it failed.

“I see another way to achieve our goal. We must show them their mistake and lead them to the true gods. We must draw them to our side gently, through persuasion and reason. For I believe truth and understanding are powerful forces, and they are forces we have in our favor. Using them, we cannot fail.” He raised his arms. “With them, we will conquer Northern Ithania!”

It’s not the torch to the oil of glorious war that Kuar’s kill-and-take speech was, Reivan mused. The crowd roared anyway, fired up by the excitement of this momentous event, as well as drink and perhaps relief that there would not be another war for now.

As Imenja addressed the crowd again, Reivan considered Nekaun’s goal. So he wants to convert the Circlians, she thought. I wonder how he plans to do that? Will he send Servants into Northern Ithania to woo the people there? I can’t imagine they’ll be given a warm welcome.

Imenja finished. Nekaun glanced at her, then began to lead the Voices back to the hall. Reivan and the Companions followed. As they moved indoors, Servants crowded around, offering congratulations to their new leader. Reivan wondered how many of them had realized what Nekaun’s plan might mean for them. Travelling into Northern Ithania to convert Circlians might prove to be more dangerous than marching to war.

I don’t envy them that task, she thought. Abruptly she realized she was not disqualified from it. But shouldn’t I want to go? Shouldn’t I be willing to do anything for the gods?

I’m unskilled and only a Servant-novice. I’m of more use here, serving Imenja.

Yet she might not have any choice in the matter. What if Nekaun asked her to go? What if she ended up in a situation where he wanted her out of the way? She could see no reason for that now, but this was the world of