“I have a question,” Jayim said suddenly.
Well, it works most of the time, Leiard thought wryly.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been teaching me the same sorts of things you did back in Jarime—apart from the mind links. I’d have thought you’d concentrate on teaching me to heal with magic. After all, that’s what we’re here for.”
Leiard smiled. “Teaching magical healing always presents us with a dilemma. How can I teach you to heal when you have no injuries to practice on? We Dreamweavers do not harm others or ourselves in order to provide subjects to heal.”
The boy was silent. “So I won’t learn to heal until we get to the battlefield.”
“No.”
“I was expecting…I thought I’d be…well, ready by the time I got there.”
“Nobody is ever ready to face a battlefield for the first time.” Leiard looked at Jayim and chuckled. “You will learn a lot quickly when you do. Do not fear the learning. I will guide you.”
Jayim shook his head. “No point in worrying about something you can’t avoid; you’ll have enough worries when it happens.”
Leiard looked at Jayim in surprise. “That is an old saying.”
The boy shrugged. “My mother says it all the time.”
“Ah. I imagine you’ve given her many reasons to…”
The tarn before them slowed to a stop. As Jayim pulled on the reins, Leiard peered around the side of the vehicle before them. Another vehicle stood side-on to the lead tarn, blocking its path, and four Dreamweavers Leiard did not recognize stood beside it.
“Looks like our numbers have just grown a little,” Leiard said. “Stay here. I will greet the newcomers.”
He climbed down from the tarn and strode forward. As he drew closer to the strangers he saw that Arleej’s caravan had reached the end of the track. Three vehicles waited on the side of a wider road. Arleej was talking to one of the newcomers, a stocky male Dreamweaver with pale hair. She saw Leiard and beckoned him forward.
“This is Dreamweaver Leiard, former Dreamweaver adviser to the White,” she said. “Leiard, this is Dreamweaver Wil.”
The man was Dunwayan, Leiard noted. Wil’s eyebrows had risen when Arleej had mentioned Leiard’s former position.
“Adviser to the White,” he said. “I had heard something of this.” He paused, then snorted. “I had best tell you now that I have my doubts about the wisdom of it. These White are mind-readers. They could rob us of much of our knowledge.”
“Only that which is valuable and acceptable to them,” Arleej replied. “Which, when you remember that they consider our use of herbs quaint and our mind-linking skills taboo, is little.”
Wil shook his head. “Attitudes change.”
“And they have, to our benefit, for now.” She smiled. “You will find Auraya of the White surprising, Wil. She visits us every night. She and Leiard are old friends, since before her Choosing.”
Wil’s eyes widened slightly. He stared at Leiard for a moment, then shrugged. “I look forward to meeting her.”
“We had best return to our tarn,” Arleej said firmly. “We have much travelling to do before we draw close to the army again.”
Wil nodded, then headed toward the first of his group’s tarns. As Leiard turned away, Arleej spoke his name. He looked back. She gestured to her tarn.
“Join me for a while?”
He followed as she climbed up onto the seat. The newcomers waited while she urged her arem forward and took the lead along this new road. After several minutes Arleej looked at Leiard and smiled.
“The White have told Raeli that they have lifted the ban on people using our services for a day after the battle.”
“That is good news.”
“Yes. It appears some good has come from your friendship with Auraya.”
He nodded in reply.
“I expect she does not reveal any of the White’s plans for the army?”
Leiard shook his head. “Nothing we don’t already know.”
“Has she mentioned the new Dreamweaver adviser at all?”
“Once.” He grimaced. “She finds Raeli’s aloofness disappointing, but understands the reason for it. She hopes there will be time later, after the war, to befriend Raeli—or at least gain her respect.”
“I see. What else does she talk about?”
Nothing you could repeat now, Mirar muttered.
Quiet, Leiard thought sternly.
“Reminiscences.” He shrugged. “Stories of her visits to Si and Borra.”
Liar.
“Has she noticed this trouble you have with Mirar’s link memories taking on a personality in your mind?”
He frowned and looked away. “I’m not sure. She hasn’t mentioned it.”
Because you block me out too effectively when you’re with her, Mirar growled. Nothing like pure lust to make a man take full possession of his body.
Then she is the key to getting rid of you!
No. You can’t be with her all the time.
A feeling of threat came with the reply. Leiard felt his control slip and found himself looking at Arleej.
“I have a confession to make,” he found himself saying. “This fool of a Dreamweaver has been…”
No!
Leiard fought Mirar and managed to regain control. Arleej was frowning at him in puzzlement.
“What’s wrong?”
Leiard shook his head. He dared not speak for fear that the words that came out would not be ones he’d planned to utter.
“It’s Mirar, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
Her eyes widened in understanding, then she frowned again in concern.
“Jayim told me he thought things had been getting worse lately. He said it started after Auraya first visited you.”
Leiard looked at her in alarm.
“Don’t worry, he kept his promise. Though he could not hide his concern for you.”
Arleej took his hand and held it firmly when he tried to pull away.
“There’s more to this than you’re willing to tell. I would leave you your secrets, but I suspect they’re destroying you. Tell me, Leiard. Obviously Mirar wants you to.”
He shook his head.
“I am already avoiding the White so they do not learn you are keeping something from them. I may as well know the whole truth.”
He looked away. Arleej fell silent. Then she sighed.
“Mirar.”
The name was spoken like an order. A summons. He felt control melt away.
“At last.”
His own voice was different: higher and with an authority and arrogance he’d never possessed. He found himself straightening and turning to regard Arleej.
She stared at him and he saw a hint of fear in her face.
“Why are you doing this to Leiard?”
“For his own good. He cannot continue this affair with Auraya. It will destroy him, and my people.”
Her eyes widened. “Affair?”
“He loves her. She probably loves him, too. It’s pathe—sweet. But dangerous.”
“I see.” She looked away, her gaze intense as she considered what she had just learned. “I do not think Leiard would do anything to harm our people,” she said slowly. “He must believe there is no danger.”
“He is wrong.”
“How so? If this secret remains hidden there is no immediate—”
“Even if accident does not reveal it, you can be sure the gods know.”
She shuddered. “Obviously they don’t disapprove or they would have put a stop to it.”
“They will when it brings them the greatest advantage. You can be sure it will not be for our benefit. Never think that they don’t hate us. We contain memories of darker times, when they were not so benevolent. They do not want their followers to know what they are capable of.”
Arleej had turned a little pale. She grimaced, then shook her head. “Leiard, Leiard. What are you doing?”
Sudd
enly Leiard had control of himself again. He gasped and raised shaking hands to his face.
“You’re back!” Arleej exclaimed. “I did speak your name,” she added thoughtfully.
“If that is how it works then please don’t speak his name again,” Leiard choked out.
She patted his knee apologetically. “I won’t. I’m sorry.” She paused. “What are you doing, Leiard? The risks you’re taking—”
“Are small,” he finished, taking his hands from his face. “When this war is over, I will retreat to an isolated place. No one need ever know about us.”
“No one? Mirar is right. The gods must know. He may be right about them waiting for the right time to retaliate. You…you have a duty to protect your people. You should end this affair, Leiard.”
Leiard looked away. “I know. When I’m with her, I can’t even think of it.”
Slowly Arleej’s expression softened. She leaned back in her seat and sighed.
“Oh, that’s love all right.”
She stared ahead, her forehead deeply creased. Leiard watched her closely. What would she do? Would she tackle Auraya? Would she order him to stop seeing Auraya?
Would you obey her? Mirar asked.
Probably not, Leiard admitted. If she wants me to leave now, I will.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” Arleej said softly, without looking at him. “I must think on it for a while. From now on we will not camp as close to the army as we have in the past. I would rather it was a considerable inconvenience for the White to visit us. If Auraya comes…I will not interfere. I will do all I can to ensure this secret remains undiscovered.”
“Thank you,” Leiard murmured.
Her gaze shifted to his. “I will do this thinking better alone.”
He nodded, then, feeling like a chastised child, climbed down from the tarn and made his way back to Jayim.
38
Auraya fastened her circ and walked back to where Leiard was still rolled up in blankets on the floor. She smiled down at him. He smiled back and she felt his hand grab her ankle.
His thoughts were wistful. He wished that she could stay longer—that she would be here when he woke up in the morning. He knew they couldn’t risk that.
Everyone here believes these quick visits in the middle of the night are merely official business, she heard him think, undertaken late because she’s too busy or because we don’t want the new adviser knowing she’s still consulting me. He sighed and thought of Arleej. Everyone believes that but two.
Auraya frowned. His smile faded as he realized she’d read his mind. She felt him let go of her ankle.
“Arleej knows about us,” she said.
“Yes.”
Auraya chewed on her lip. This could prove awkward. Someone in such a high position in Somrey and among Dreamweavers was likely to meet one of the other White at some time. One stray thought from Arleej and their affair would be discovered.
“We can trust her not to say anything.”
Auraya looked at him closely. “You aren’t entirely sure of that.”
He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling from his bare shoulders.
“She is concerned about Mirar’s presence in my mind.”
“The link memories?” Auraya shrugged. “Why?”
He hesitated. “You haven’t noticed…” He looked away and frowned. “He remains silent when you are here.”
Auraya shook her head. Leiard wasn’t making much sense. “He?”
“Mirar, or the echo of his personality in my mind. He speaks to me sometimes. Occasionally he has…spoken through me.”
Looking closer, she began to understand. Sometimes this manifestation of Mirar’s memories had spoken using Leiard’s voice. He had found it disturbing, understandably. He was afraid she would be repelled by it.
“I have always managed to regain control,” he assured her.
“I see. I can understand why that would worry you, but why does it concern Arleej? I would have thought she’d be happy to have this link with your former leader.”
“It’s just that…” He paused. “It doesn’t bother you?” he asked hesitantly.
Auraya shrugged. “They’re only memories. They’ve been quite useful to me, actually. What you told me about the Siyee was invaluable.”
He looked away and she sensed he was still troubled.
“It bothers me,” he said. “He doesn’t like us together. He says we endanger my people.”
Auraya felt a small stab of hurt. A part of him didn’t want her. That’s not entirely true, she told herself. These memory links are from a man who hated and feared the gods and who was killed by Juran at the gods’ bidding. Of course I spark an echo of fear in his mind.
“I don’t agree with him,” Leiard said.
“So you argue with him?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Yes. But…not when you’re here.”
She smiled, relieved. “Then I am good for you.”
His lips curled up at the corners. “Yes.”
Yet she sensed a hesitation. She looked deeper and understood. To give in to this other personality would also bring peace. It was tempting, sometimes. She sat down and wound her arms around him.
“We’ll fight him together then. I’ll help you any way I can. When this war is over,” she added. “Can you wait that long?”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’d wait centuries for a moment with you.”
She grinned. “There you go, getting all romantic on me again. You’ll only have to wait a day, not centuries. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were warm. Pleasant memories rose. She wanted to touch him, but resisted. Instead she pulled away and stood up.
“You had better get dressed and see me out.”
He pouted, then grinned and threw off the blankets. Naked, he began to gather his clothes from the floor. She watched him dress. There was something both fascinating and sobering about this reclothing. As if he was putting on an identity at the same time. When he had finished, he ushered her to the entrance like a respectful and attentive host.
“It was pleasant meeting with you again, Auraya of the White,” he said formally.
She nodded. “As always, I hope. Give Dreamweaver Elder Arleej my assurances.”
“I will.”
He held open the tent flap and she stepped outside. Lamplight from within spilled out, illuminating the dark shapes of other tents. Then the flap closed and all was darkness.
She looked up at the sky, then concentrated on the world around her. It was so easy now. She drew magic and moved herself upward.
Cold wind ruffled her hair. A few strands, wet from a quick wash in a basin of water, chilled her neck. She dried them with magic. Rising higher, she saw lights in the distance. The army camp.
Were there more lights than usual, or was she imagining it?
Drawing more magic, she created a shield to protect her body from the wind and sent herself speeding toward the camp. It did not take long before her suspicions were confirmed. She could see lines of torches moving through the tents. At the point where the line fragmented, near the edge of the camp, she could make out tents being erected.
Newcomers. This must be the Toren army.
As she drew closer she saw four pale figures standing outside the war-council tent. Facing them was a small crowd, lamplight reflecting from an abundance of polished metal and shining cloth. Nobles and other important personages, she guessed. One figure stood a few steps in front of the rest.
Berro. The Toren king. Why didn’t Juran call me when they first arrived?
She hovered above the gathering. The sound of the king’s voice drifted up to her. Deciding it would be rude to interrupt, she sent Juran a quiet communication.
:Juran? Should I join you?
He made a small, surprised movement, then glanced upward.
:Yes, he replied. When I indicate.
She heard him say som
ething. Then he made a small beckoning gesture. She dropped down and landed beside Mairae.
The king turned to stare at her in astonishment. He looked up at the sky, as if expecting to find she had jumped from some structure, then at her again.
“Auraya,” Juran said. “I believe you met King Berro just after your Choosing?”
“Yes,” she said. “A pleasure to meet you again, your majesty.”
The king drew in a deep breath and appeared to gather his wits.
“It is an honor to see you again, Auraya of the White. You have settled into your new position with impressive speed and confidence. I had heard of your Gift of flight, but did not quite believe it until now.”
She smiled and made the sign of the circle. “The gods give us what we need in order to do their bidding.”
His gaze flickered, and she was pleased to see his thoughts turn to the Siyee. By pointing out that the gods had given her the Gift of flight, she had hinted they had done so in order that she might convince the Siyee to become the White’s allies. Hopefully he would think twice about contesting the removal of Toren settlers from Siyee lands. No monarch dared to defy the gods.
The king’s attention returned to Juran. “I have travelled at the fastest pace my troops could sustain in order to join you in time. We are, I believe, two days’ travel from the pass. Will there be time to rest?”
Juran frowned. “I can only give you a shorter day’s travel tomorrow. Your troops may have more time to rest once we reach the pass, however.”
“That will be sufficient.”
“You are also weary,” Juran stated. “It is late to be discussing war plans. If it is agreeable to you, I will travel with you tomorrow in order to relate to you all that has been discussed and decided.”
Berro smiled with relief. “That would be most agreeable. Thank you.”
Juran nodded and made the formal gesture of the circle. “I will speak to you in the morning then, your majesty.”
The king returned the gesture, then moved away, the crowd of nobles following. Auraya turned to regard her fellow White. Juran looked relieved, Dyara resigned. Rian and Mairae appeared to be pleased.
“At least they’re here,” Dyara murmured. “The Dunwayans are in the pass, setting traps. When they join us we will be quite a force.”
[Age of the Five 01] - Priestess of the White Page 48