“And here is First Elder Varon,” Kunnandi drawled. “Such a tedious title. I think I’ll call you Varon.”
When the unfortunate man managed a weak nod Kunnandi continued. “It seems you’re suffering a crisis of faith, my good fellow. It took considerable effort for us to aid Dayamar in bringing this young woman to Dayamaria. Yet here you are, casting aspersions upon our choice.” He pursed his lips and tapped the side of his nose, and then clasped both hands behind his back and strode away, apparently deep in thought.
Varon visibly sagged with relief… which was short-lived, because Kunnandi promptly swiveled on his heel and advanced until he stood nose to nose with Varon. “Are you suggesting we’re incompetent, and don’t know what we’re doing?” the god asked.
Varon’s eyes bulged. His mouth worked but he couldn’t get any words out.
Kunnandi considered him, eyebrows cocked. “We support her elevation to Second Sehan, and we personally assure you of her proficiency. Is that sufficient for you?” He waited until Varon nodded.
“Very good. And now to a vote. All in favor?” Kunnandi raised his own hand, before craning his neck to survey the elders.
The vote was unanimous but for one notable abstention. First Elder Varon was shaking so hard he could barely manage to stand upright. Raising one arm appeared beyond him.
Kunnandi wrinkled his nose. As if pulled by an invisible string, Varon’s right arm flew into the air. His hand flapped around as though it had a mind of its own.
“Kunnandi,” Blayne heard Wisa murmur.
Varon’s arm flopped back to his side.
“It’s unanimous,” Kunnandi said. “Excellent! Hope is now officially Second Sehan.” He waved his hand and the shimmering forms of the second and third settlement elders vanished.
Blayne’s gaze shot to Hope, who was rubbing her left temple. He wondered what his Promised would say when she realized what Kunnandi had done. And with any luck, she wouldn’t have sensed the elders from the other two settlements—or if she had, she wouldn’t understand their significance. Dayamar had advised keeping the existence of the Second and Third Settlements from her, citing the need to protect her from added stress. Blayne hated having secrets from the woman he loved, but he had to agree she had more than enough to cope with at present.
Varon swayed on his feet. Taran grabbed his arm to steady him. “All a bit too much, eh, First Elder?”
Varon’s only response was a moan.
“Now, Shikari,” Kunnandi continued. “Didn’t you have something to say to everyone? Might as well do it now, rather than sending everyone a dream. Dreams are such a trite way to communicate, don’t you think?”
Shikari scowled. “Yes, I have something to say,” the big god rumbled. “As you have Seen, the man you knew as Lyam was not killed by wolves. His death was an accident—a tragic one, but an accident all the same. It is time to return to the old ways. Slaughtering animals for sport will not be tolerated. And to remind you of my visit, henceforth, white wolves are protected by me.”
Taran chose that moment to try to melt back into the crowd.
“Not so fast, Master Tracker,” Shikari said. “I thank you for your defense of this young woman. Your support of her, and your desire to have the truth known, does you credit. And I commend your young apprentice, also. He is fortunate to have you as a mentor.”
To Taran’s obvious consternation, all three gods inclined their heads to him. Red-faced, he nodded tersely, allowed Hope to kiss him on the cheek, and retreated to the safe anonymity of the crowd.
At a nod from Shikari, Dayamar took the floor again. “As most of you are aware by now, Hope is not Dayamari. But she wishes to become one of us. She is our Second Sehan and as we have seen this evening, she has already proved worthy of that title. As First Sehan and Spiritual Leader, I officially sponsor her request.”
This was Blayne’s cue to speak. “As Panakeya of the Dayamari, I second this request.”
“What proof do you have of her worthiness, Panakeya?” Dayamar asked.
“The Dayamari owe her two lives. I call on Healer Johan to verify my claim.”
Johan stepped forward. “I, Healer Johan, personally bear witness to this woman’s worth. Despite all my knowledge and efforts, Treya was dying.”
As a healer, Blayne took it personally if a patient under his care sickened or died. Johan was no exception. His voice shook with the emotion he strove to suppress. “Without… without the intervention of Sehan Hope, Treya would have died in childbirth and her son Hopian would never have been born. Sehan Hope holds the life-bonds of two Dayamari in her hands. She is worthy.”
“We have the obligatory sponsors.” Dayamar paused to cast his gaze about the hall. “I now open the floor to objections.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd and everyone gazed expectantly at First Elder Varon. But Varon didn’t say a thing. Nor did anyone else. Dayamar’s logic was impeccable. As bizarre as it might seem for an outsider to hold such a high-status position, no one could deny Hope possessed the necessary skills to eventually replace Dayamar. And it was painfully obvious there was no one else who could replace him. Considering the power she commanded, it was far better she become one of them.
Dayamar turned to Hope and took both her hands. “I, Dayamar, First Sehan and Spiritual Leader, do officially adopt this woman, Hope Delamore, as Dayamari from this day forth. Hope, will you ask your adopted family to step forward?”
“I name Dayamar as my father,” she said.
The crowd reacted with startled murmurs as they watched the old Sehan comply with tradition and move to stand at Hope’s right side. Over the years Dayamar had distanced himself from personal relationships. He’d lived alone for as long as anyone could remember. That he would choose to adopt a daughter at this late stage of his life spoke volumes for Hope’s influence.
“I name Cayl as my brother. I name Varaya and Maya as sisters. I name Willem as my cousin.” All those named stepped forward and stood to her left.
Dayamar opened his mouth to continue the adoption ceremony but Wisa’s smooth rich voice interjected. “Wait. A girl must have a mother. I put myself forward as Hope’s adoptive mother—if she will have me.”
Hope embraced the goddess, her face wreathed with genuine delight. “Of course, Wisa. It would mean so much to me. Thank you.” And Blayne saw the goddess swiping a silvery tear from her cheek as she went to stand with Dayamar.
“Now why didn’t think of that?” Kunnandi whispered for Blayne’s ears only. “Just think of all the hugs I could have gotten from her if I was named her brother.” The cheeky god grinned when he grimaced.
“Do all those named accept this woman from this day forth into their family?” Dayamar asked.
Cayl stepped forward. “I accept this woman as sister.”
Dayamar produced a small knife and pricked first Cayl’s thumb, and then Hope’s. As the tiny cuts welled with droplets of blood, Dayamar blotted them both with a small square of soft white hide, taking care to ensure that the bloodstains of one blended with the other. “As these drops mingle, so you are brother and sister by blood.” He handed the bloodstained square of hide to Hope.
Cayl embraced her and stepped back.
The ritual was repeated with Maya and Varaya. And then Willem stepped forward. He had declined Hope’s original offer to become her blood-brother because he didn’t want to complicate a possible future Joining with Varaya. Some might frown on a brother/sister relationship, even if it was only a ceremonial one. As her cousin, he would still benefit from an increase in status, without any complications if he did Join with Varaya.
Hope smiled as the blood-ritual was performed. She’d told Blayne that Willem had been overwhelmed by her generosity but it was pure selfishness on her part. Willem needed the added a boost to his self-worth, while she wanted him and Varaya to be happy. She’d called it a “win-win” situation.
Dayamar pierced his own thumb and performed the ritual on himself. As he embrac
ed Hope, he whispered something in her ear and she smiled. Blayne was surprised to note the old Sehan’s eyes shone with tears.
Lastly it was Wisa’s turn. “Allow me, Dayamar,” she said. The knife rose from Dayamar’s hand to pierce the end of Wisa’s outstretched thumb. It hung in the air for a moment before returning to Dayamar’s grasp. Reverently, the old Sehan wiped the blade and sheathed the knife.
Hope squeezed her thumb and Wisa blotted the welling bead of blood with a piece of hide. She handed the hide to Hope and hugged her warmly. “Well, my dear, how does it feel to belong to a family again?”
“Wonderful.” She stowed the six small pieces of hide in the pouch hanging from a thong at her waist. And then she beamed so widely at the crowd they clapped and cheered and stamped their boots in approval.
Blayne spied the mischievous god slanting a sly look in Hope’s direction. What was he up to now?
Kunnandi snapped his fingers. “Hope, my dearest. We have a surprise for you. Panakeya Blayne, you, too. Come stand next to Hope. There’s a good fellow.”
Blayne realized what was about to happen and slanted the god a black scowl. Kunnandi had commandeered his carefully laid plans and, god or not, he wasn’t happy about it.
Kunnandi deftly steered him to one side. “Forgive me, Panakeya. I hope you aren’t harboring thoughts of braining me with a hunk of stone like the last time we met.”
Gods’ grief. That snake had been Kunnandi?
The god chortled. “Yes, Panakeya. It was me. Sorry to steal your thunder but I couldn’t resist being present for this particular ceremony in person. I mean to say, first I get to scare the living daylights out of that stuffy old First Elder, and now I get to spring a surprise as well. My goblet runneth over! And I do have some making up for lost time to do. It’s difficult to fully appreciate a beautiful human female when you’re a snake.” He eyed Blayne speculatively. “And Hope is a very beautiful female, is she not?”
He couldn’t help laughing at Kunnandi’s sly humor. “Please continue, Kunnandi. Don’t let me spoil your fun.”
“That’s the spirit.” Kunnandi clapped him on the back.
Blayne took Hope’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I like your new tattoo,” he murmured.
“What tattoo?”
“This one.” He outlined the stylized eye symbol at her temple with his forefinger. “It won’t be coming off,” he said when she rubbed the spot. “He’s made sure of that.”
“Kunnandi’s teeth!”
Kunnandi ran his tongue over his teeth. His brows drew together in a disgruntled frown. “Why are you people always commenting about my teeth? Are they horribly crooked or something?”
“Kunnandi, go stand there, next to Shikari. Now.” Wisa’s glower cut off whatever her sibling had been about to say next. “Stop interfering and let Dayamar speak.”
The god pouted but did as he was bid and stalked over to Shikari and the seated elders. “She’s such a spoilsport,” Blayne heard him mutter.
Hope clenched her teeth against a yawn. She hoped the “surprise” Kunnandi had mentioned would be over quickly so she could head home and put her feet up. Performing for crowds was tiring.
“It is our custom,” Dayamar said, “when two people fall in love for a formal Promise of intent to be made. Blayne, I understand you have something you wish to say?”
“Yes. It’s important to me you all know my feelings for this woman, and that she knows I have no shame in making them public.”
Her head spun. He didn’t need to do this. Words said in the privacy of his sleeping quarters were more than enough. “Blayne—”
“Please let me finish.” When he took her hand she realized he had knelt before her. “Hope, I love you. I want to formally make a Promise of commitment to you—if you will have me.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know. We’re already Promised in our hearts but I want to make our Promise formal. So…?”
“Yes! Yes, I accept your Promise.” She tugged the man she loved to his feet and he swept her into a hug and kissed her soundly, heedless of those watching.
The crowd exploded with cheers of congratulations and the inevitable mildly ribald comments.
“Now we will move on to the formal Promising Ceremony,” Dayamar announced.
“But… but… I’m not dressed for a Promising Ceremony. Don’t I need to be wearing red?”
Crows of delighted laughter drifted up from the crowd, who were thoroughly entertained by this spectacle.
She rounded on Blayne. “Why is everyone laughing? Isn’t it customary to wear red for a Promising?”
“Yes, it is. Which is why you are—a red dress and boots.”
Comprehension dawned. She pulled from Blayne to advance on Dayamar. “You sneaky old man!” she spluttered. “You knew this was the plan all along, didn’t you?”
“Is that any way to speak to your father, young woman?” His voice took on a mournful tone. “Is it any surprise I’ve left it this long to claim a daughter? They are such troublesome creatures.”
“How could you do this to me?” Her voice had risen to a wail but she didn’t care.
“Can’t a father give his daughter a fine dress for her Promising?” Dayamar said, playing to his audience. Who of course roared their approval.
“And look at that. I seem to have a rather stunning kuruvinda necklace and a piece of jewelry Blayne informs me is a ruby ring. I do believe they might suffice as official Promising gifts.”
The reason Dayamar had insisted she not wear her necklace for this ceremony became clear. She gave in. She was outclassed and outnumbered. She suffered him to plant a smacking kiss on her cheek. “If you—and everyone else who was in on this little surprise—are very lucky, one day I might forgive you for putting me through this.”
Dayamar hugged her. “I love you, too, my dear.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kunnandi elbowed Shikari in the side. “Who would’ve thought the old man had it in him?”
“Or that she would have let him get away with it.”
“She’s a feisty one. I think Blayne’s in for a hard time tonight.” Kunnandi smirked. “I’m sure our Panakeya is more than equal to whatever she throws at him. And no doubt it will all be resolved to their mutual satisfaction.”
Shikari harrumphed at the unsubtle innuendo.
Kunnandi spotted the woman known as Maya slipping through the crowd thronging about the Promised couple. Her quiet word with Wisa resulted in the goddess looking more startled than a goddess should be after a conversation with a human.
Interesting.
And then she made a beeline for Kunnandi and his brother. He grinned as he eyed the buxom blonde. The grin wavered as he noted her determined expression. He turned to Shikari to suggest they both make themselves scarce and—
“Not so fast, Exalted Ones. You all had a hand in uprooting that poor girl from her home and ‘blessing’ her with a Sehan’s powers, did you not?” Hands on hips, Maya stared them down until Shikari nodded and Kunnandi shifted restlessly.
“And no doubt you’re pleased she’s Promised to Blayne, and pregnant even though she was supposed to be barren. Less chance she’ll want to leave Dayamaria anytime soon, right? And I suppose you’re happy that everything’s going to plan.” Her voice dripped irony.
Kunnandi opened his mouth to defend himself but Shikari’s nudge made him think twice. He nodded instead.
“Because you’re gods and therefore all-seeing and all-knowing blah, blah, blah, I won’t bore you by telling you exactly how I feel about this whole business.”
Shikari cleared his throat. Kunnandi discovered an intriguing mark on the floor.
“I may not be able to save poor Hope from whatever you’ve got planned for her, but I can do something. You will help me turn this impromptu Promising into a proper occasion. I’m aware Blayne didn’t want a fuss but right now I don’t much care what he wants. This is a celebration for Hope—of her Prom
ising, her acceptance as Second Sehan, and having a family of her own again. I’ve already spoken to Wisa and she agrees with me.”
“Not that she had much of a choice I bet,” Kunnandi muttered.
“So here’s what you two are going to do.” After delivering her instructions Maya sashayed off, well satisfied with her arrangements.
Kunnandi mopped his brow and turned to his slack-jawed sibling. “I’d hate to think what tone she’d have used with us if we weren’t her gods, and she didn’t have the utmost reverence for us. Who’s her life-partner again?”
“The one with the red hair. His name is Cayl.”
“I must go and talk to him,” Kunnandi said. “I really want to know how he’s managed paired with a woman as determined to get her own way as that one. He might have some hints about how I can get around Wisa.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
~~~
As small groups of people left the hall they found themselves at the gathering place. Remaining invisible, Kunnandi basked in their gawps and exclamations as he lit strategically placed torches to illuminate the area. He clicked his fingers. With small explosive sounds, trestle tables appeared along one side. “So, who’s got a favorite food then?” he said. “Come on people, speak up. Our guests of honor will be here soon.”
“Um, hotcakes and syrup?” one brave soul called out.
“Excellent choice.” He conjured platters of hotcakes dripping with syrup and arranged them on the tables. Stunned silence greeted their arrival. The silence lasted for all of seconds more before people began yelling their favorite dishes. Cheers accompanied each new dish that popped into view. Soon the tables were brimming with all manner of food and drink.
“Enough!” Shikari conjured dishes, utensils and mugs. “What else are we missing?” A snap of his fingers, and various instruments appeared in mid air, snaking their way toward the area set aside for the musicians, some chased by anxious owners.
Kunnandi snickered, vastly amused by their antics. He sent Shikari a mental message and they both appeared in the flesh. “Right everyone,” he said. “Let’s get ready to yell ‘Surprise!’ On my count of three. One… two… three….”
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