Voice of the Gods

there is the long-term welfare of the people to consider. The Voices have to put up with each other for eternity. It is better they get along.

On a personal level it bothered her further. She liked Imenja. The Second Voice treated Reivan like a friend as well as a Companion. She also liked Nekaun, but in an entirely different way. He didn’t treat her like a friend, though he was friendly. Whenever he turned his natural, habitual charm on her she couldn’t help feeling a rush of hope and excitement.

Reivan had hoped a few months at sea would cure her of her attraction to Nekaun, but it hadn’t. Yet the journey had boosted her confidence and determination not to make a fool of herself. She could not do her job and avoid him, so she had decided she simply had to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and the distracting thoughts he stirred until she had been around him so much that he was ordinary and unexciting.

Reaching the beginning of the corridor that gave access to the long balcony on which the Voices liked to meet, Reivan paused to catch her breath. She smoothed her robes, wiped her face, cleared her mind and set forth again.

The sound of chatter drew her to the end. Several woven reed chairs had been arranged where the view over the city was best. All Voices and their Companions were sitting except for Nekaun. As always, he stood leaning against the railing, looking down at his fellow rulers and their advisers.

Reivan made the sign of the star over her chest and nodded respectfully to all the Voices. The Fifth Voice, Shar, was sipping flavored water. His pale skin and long pale hair was a stark contrast to Genza’s warm brown skin and cropped hair. Vervel, the stocky Third Voice, was heavier and older in appearance than his companions. As always, Genza had brought one of her trained birds, and a vorn lay by Shar’s feet. On Shar’s feet, Reivan noted. The beast panted in the heat of the day.

Avoiding Nekaun’s gaze, Reivan looked at Imenja, the Second Voice. Her mistress was slim and elegant, appearing to be in her late thirties. She smiled at Reivan and gestured to the empty chair beside her.

The conversation had stopped on Reivan’s arrival, but attention had not shifted to her. All were regarding Nekaun expectantly.

He smiled. “Now that we are all here, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Heshema Guide. He has just returned from Northern Ithania, where he has been researching a little recent history for me.”

Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Reivan saw that Imenja was frowning. Her expression of disapproval vanished as footsteps echoed in the corridor. Reivan turned to see a middle-aged man enter the balcony.

She had expected someone with such a typical Sennon name to have the distinctive thin build and sun- browned skin of that race, but Heshema was an unimpressive-looking man. If she’d been asked to describe him, she would have been hard put to think of a feature that might single him out among others. He is quite bland, she mused. But if he’s been gathering information for Nekaun in Northern Ithania, that makes him a spy, and a spy hardly wants to stand out or be memorable.

“An honor to meet you all,” Heshema said in a deep, melodious voice.

As the Voices murmured replies, Reivan smiled. His voice is his distinctive feature, she thought. Though I expect he has learned to adopt a less memorable one when needed.

“I have asked Heshema to tell you what he has learned,” Nekaun said. “Some of you will already know part of it, but you should all learn something new.”

As the First Voice looked at Heshema expectantly, the man nodded.

“I arrived in Jarime in late winter,” the spy began. “The cold there encourages the common people to meet at drinking houses to share the warmth of a fire and exchange gossip. Most of the talk was of Auraya the White’s resignation. The official explanation is that she left in order to devote herself to helping the Siyee, who were suffering great losses to a plague.

“Many admired her for sacrificing immortality and great magical power for such a noble cause, but some questioned the truth of the explanation, speculating that perhaps their gods had banished Auraya from the White for some crime or mistake. The error they considered most likely was her sympathy to the Dreamweavers. She had arranged for Circlian healers and Dreamweavers to work together treating the needy in a building in the poor quarter they called a ‘hospice’. It was an unpopular move, especially among the wealthy citizens.

“Other ideas circulating included an affair with a Dreamweaver, and that she had neglected her duties as a White in favor of helping the Siyee. There were even a few who thought she might have turned Pentadrian.”

The Voices chuckled and Heshema’s lips thinned into a smile.

“There was also speculation that Auraya hadn’t left the White at all,” he continued, “and this was some ruse to lure us into battle. The rash of promotions among Circlians suggested otherwise to me. Only high priests and priestesses are eligible to become a White. Their gods apparently make the final choice, but the White ensure there are plenty of candidates.”

His voice was curiously devoid of skepticism, Reivan noted.

“Did you see anything to make you wonder if their gods are real?” Imenja asked.

Heshema glanced at Nekaun. “Nothing to make me certain of it.”

“That is not what I sent Heshema to discover,” Nekaun interrupted.

“No?” Imenja turned to smile at Nekaun. “Of course not, but he might have noticed something.” She looked at the spy. “Go on with your tale, Heshema.”

The man inclined his head. “I doubted the White would take kindly to me questioning them, so I sought other sources of information. I posed as a Genrian trader in order to meet Auraya’s former adviser, Danjin Spear. He believed the official explanation to be the true one. According to him, the Siyee had stolen Auraya’s heart the moment she first met them. I am sure he was keeping some secret about his former mistress, however. Something personal. He spoke as if something she had done had disappointed him.”

“An affair?” Genza asked.

Heshema shrugged. “That is possible.”

“You said there were rumors of an affair with a Dreamweaver,” Vervel pointed out.

“Yes. I didn’t give them much credence until I questioned the Siyee. I heard that there were a handful of the winged people in Jarime, some acting as ambassadors and others there in training to become priests and priestesses. They have a remarkably low tolerance for intoxicating liquor, and the pair of initiates I spoke to were only too happy to tell me of the rumors in Si concerning Auraya’s last months there as a White.

“She returned to Si in response to your Servants landing there, but stayed due to the outbreak of a plague. When she arrived at the first village to succumb to the disease she found a Dreamweaver already there. She knew this Dreamweaver and those who observed the two of them together said it was clear there was a grudge between them, but they had settled their differences and were friendly by the time Auraya left the village.

“What happened afterward is a mystery that the Siyee would dearly like to solve. The Dreamweaver left Si without explanation and Auraya returned to Jarime and quit the White. They believe both events are connected, but don’t know how. When I suggested an affair, however, they were certain that couldn’t be the reason.”

“Sounds like an affair to me,” Genza said.

“Sounds like the sort of gossip that would naturally arise in that situation, so we shouldn’t assume it is true,” Imenja warned. “Did the Dreamweaver return to Si after Auraya quit the White?”

“The Siyee initiates did not know,” Heshema replied. “They were shocked by the hatred some Hanians felt toward the Dreamweavers. They might have decided to keep the return of the Dreamweaver a secret as a result.

“The Hanians’ dislike and fear of Dreamweavers appeared to be getting worse while I was there. Their paranoia had grown so strong that a rumor that the Dreamweaver leader, Mirar, isn’t dead and has returned to make mischief was circulating just before I left.”

Shar chuckled. “If only he had. We could recruit him.”

“Dreamweavers abhor violence,” Imenja reminded him. “But I expect a man of his Skills and experience could make a lot of trouble for the Circlians - if only he was alive.”

“These rumors are also circulating here,” Nekaun said. “A few of my friends have sought the source of them, and it appears the rumors have originated among the Dreamweavers themselves, all over Avven, Dekkar and Mur, at about the same time.”

“Interesting,” Vervel murmured.

“Yes.”