Voice of the Gods

uncross his arms and knew the game was about to begin again.

“I thought we might explore the city today,” he said lightly. “I would like to introduce you to my people.”

His people, she mused. As if he is the sole ruler of this continent. I wonder how the other Voices feel about that.

“That would be interesting,” she replied. “I’m sure I have seen everything and met everyone in the Sanctuary by now - except the other Voices, of course.”

“They are eager to meet you,” he told her.

She smiled thinly. “I doubt that.”

He chuckled. “You must remember that, unlike myself, they once faced you across a battlefield. They may be quite intimidated by you.”

Intimidated? She frowned. More likely he’s worried that they’ll attack me and break his promise that I won’t be harmed.

He gestured toward the stairs. “Shall we move on?”

She followed him into the building then through the Sanctuary. Turaan came after them silently. Servants paused to stare at her briefly before hurrying away. From their minds she read a now familiar mixture of curiosity and dislike for her. The Pentadrians knew her only from the battle. She was an enemy who had killed their former leader. They accepted Nekaun’s judgment, however, and concluded that if he was treating her politely, they would do the same.

Their regard for Nekaun was high, but not quite the same as the affection they felt for the other Voices. She also picked up thoughts in which he was compared to his predecessor, and from these she guessed that while Nekaun was liked and respected, Kuar had been adored.

Nekaun wants that adoration, she guessed. What will he do to earn it? She shivered. Invade Northern Ithania again? Yet by introducing her to his people and showing her their ways he was making a small step toward encouraging understanding between Circlians and Pentadrians. Perhaps he hoped that avoiding a war would raise him in the eyes of his people.

They had arrived at the large hall that was the entrance to the Sanctuary. It was as busy with Servants and non-Servants as it had been when Nekaun had first shown it to her. They paused to watch as Nekaun led her to the arched facade at the front of the building. He stepped out and began descending the wide staircase.

At the edge of the road below, several muscular, bare-chested men and a Servant stood beside a litter. Looking closer, Auraya picked up thoughts of boredom and resentment as well as resignation. These were the first slaves she had seen. Nekaun had told her of the tradition of enslaving criminals. It was a novel idea - perhaps more merciful than execution - though only useful to the Servants since the system would work only if slave masters were Gifted enough to suppress rebellion.

Nekaun ushered her onto the litter, where she sat opposite him and his Companion. The Servant barked orders and the slaves bent to pick up the litter. It was a disconcerting sensation being lifted by the men. Though the worst they could do to her was drop the litter she could not help feeling uneasy.

At Nekaun’s order they set off down the wide main street of the city. Her host began talking, and Turaan translated. He spoke about the houses that had been removed long ago to make this parade, and other changes that had been made a hundred years ago. Auraya barely heard. Her attention was being drawn away by the thoughts of the people around her.

As they noticed the litter they stopped to stare. Initially it was Nekaun that attracted their interest, as the sight of the First Voice was something that excited them. She caught glimpses of plans to boast to friends and family about sighting him.

But the excitement was short-lived. All around her, interest was changing to shock and anger, and she was the cause. Those that didn’t recognize her from the war were informed by those who did. Rumors had circulated that she was in the Sanctuary. Few favored her presence, but now they were outraged that she might show herself so openly to the kin of those she and her allies had killed.

Never mind that this was Nekaun’s idea, she thought wryly.

As the anger of the crowd increased, Auraya’s skin prickled with warning. She drew a little magic and surrounded herself with a light, invisible barrier. Nekaun’s chatter had slowed. A slight crease appeared between his brows, but he kept talking. Auraya endeavored to look unconcerned, hoping that if they kept moving the crowd would not have the chance to gather and confront them.

Not that I have anything to fear from them, she told herself. But it would be embarrassing to Nekaun, and that’s never good for a man in his position.

People had begun to follow the litter. She felt her heartbeat quicken. As the crowd grew, the slaves noticed and began glancing around with worried expressions. Turaan was pale, but he kept translating doggedly. Nekaun ordered the litter into a side street.

They had travelled only a short way along this when people began to emerge from narrow streets on either side. A noisy crowd formed around the litter, forcing it to stop.

“Murderer!” someone shouted.

“Go home. You’re not welcome here!”

Those and following shouts were spoken in the local tongue, but Auraya knew she could pretend she guessed their meaning from their tone. She looked around at the people. One man met her eyes, scowled, then spat at her face. The spittle splattered against her shield and dropped to the ground.

She realized her heart was racing. Though she did not fear these people, she could not help reacting to their threatening behavior. Nekaun ordered the litter lowered. As it met the ground he stood up. The crowd drew back a few steps and quietened.

“People of Glymma, do not shame me,” he implored. “I understand your anger. Here before you sits a sorceress who was once our enemy, and you see no reason to gain her favor. But there is a reason. A very good reason. She does not know or understand you. If she did, she would love you as I do. Like me, she would not bear to see you or your families harmed. I know you are honorable and loyal. Let her see that, not this pointless hatred.”

The people were not entirely convinced, but Nekaun’s words had subdued them into a dissatisfied and begrudging obedience. They drew back, muttering. Nekaun sat down and nodded to the Servant controlling the slaves. The litter rose again, and the crowd parted to allow it to continue.

Though Nekaun appeared relaxed, there was a stiffness to the way he braced himself against the swaying of the litter. He did not meet her eyes. It was obvious he had miscalculated his people badly.

Her heart was still beating quickly, yet she felt only sadness. They hate me, she thought. They hate me and I understand why. I represent their enemy. Nekaun will have a hard time convincing them to ally with Northern Ithania in the future. In fact, it may be impossible.

As soon as the litter had turned down the next street Nekaun ordered the men to return to the Sanctuary. Auraya looked at him questioningly.

“We will return and change to a covered platten,” he told her. “Not for your safety,” he assured her. “You are in no danger, but it will be more convenient and prevent delays. I am sorry you had to see that.”

“Are you? Or was this to show me the effect of my apparent crimes?”

“No. I did not expect it,” he said. “I forget sometimes that most people are less forgiving than I.”

“You were not in the war, then?”

“I was.” He turned back to meet her regard, all signs of weakness gone.

“Then surely you understand their anger,” she said. “It is never easy to forgive the killing of family and friends, and they have no choice but to believe the invasion of Northern Ithania was justified or else they would lose faith in their gods and leaders. So they blame the people they invaded.”

“Your people are not innocent of that crime now,” he reminded her. “It is amusing to hear you admonish us when you accompanied those who invaded us.”

“The Siyee attack on the birds?” She shook her head. “That was no invasion, but a foolish act of vengeance for the actions of your people in Jarime.” Arranged by Huan, she added silently.

“Interesting that you think so,” he said.

“What else would it be? Your defenses must be weak indeed if thirty or so Siyee could have threatened