“Yes. How else was I going to get you down here?” He looked over her shoulder. Her stomach sank as she realized the two Servants were standing behind her. From their minds she read his orders.
Surround her. She cannot fight you. As you have noticed, there is no magic here.
They hadn’t known of his plans, but recovered from their surprise quickly. She felt hands grasp her arms and tried to twist away, but both Servants were strong. Both were Servant-warriors, who prided themselves on their physical fitness as well as magical Skill.
“Let me go,” Auraya demanded.
They were amused by her order and had no intention of following it.
Nekaun was smiling broadly, enjoying the moment. As he stepped closer Auraya’s heart lurched. So is this how I’m going to die? she found herself wondering. Will Chaia take my soul? She searched for some sign that the gods were close but found none. Nekaun looked beyond her to the Servants.
“Behind the throne you will find chains.”
Chains? Auraya felt her heart swell with desperate hope. He doesn’t mean to kill me! Unless he means to kill me slowly. What will it be? Starvation? A slow poison? Or something worse?
Her mind shied away from that thought. She stared at Nekaun, wanting to say something to make him change his mind - a threat to frighten him, or an offer he would be tempted by. But her mind refused to think and she could not make herself speak. Her heart was pounding and she reflexively strained against the hands holding her, all the while uselessly reaching for magic. A Servant brought out the chains, which were firmly bolted to gaps in the arms of the chair.
“Put her back to the throne,” Nekaun instructed. “Lock her wrists in the shackles.”
The Servant woman held Auraya’s left arm outstretched, then her right, as the male Servant snapped the manacles around Auraya’s wrists. When they were done Nekaun waved them away. He reached out and grasped Auraya’s hand. She bit back a protest as he pulled off her priest ring.
But it doesn’t work in voids, anyway, she remembered.
He stepped back to regard her.
“That was much too easy,” he said, shaking his head. “Who would have thought a White - a former White - would be so easy to catch?”
She clenched her teeth. Did he want her to beg and plead? Make a bargain in exchange for her freedom?
So much for peace and alliances. So much for vows of safety.
“You swore by your gods that I would not be harmed while I stayed here,” she said in his language, so the Servants would understand. “How can you, their First Voice, break a vow in their names?”
His smile vanished, but his eyes still gleamed.
“I can,” he told her, his voice hard and serious. “But only at the orders of my gods. They told me to do this. Just as they told me to see if you could be persuaded to join us. Just as they told me your Siyee were coming to attack us.” He shrugged. “Just as I will kill you if they ask me to. You had best hope they do not.” Then his smile returned. “At last I can get back to some interesting work.”
Turning on his heel, he strode out of the hall, Turaan and the pair of Servants following.
It was a sad procession that made its way along the road to Chon. At the front the Pentadrians walked, flanked by warriors. Ella, Danjin, Yem, Gillen and Gret came next, riding in the covered platten. The villagers followed at the rear, surrounded by more warriors. A cart and arem had been found on one of the farms for small children, the old and the sick to ride on.
Those in the covered platten had talked little. Gillen had tried to strike up a conversation mere hours after the journey had begun, but the others had all but ignored him. Hurt, he had lapsed into a sullen, resigned silence.
Danjin looked at Yem. The young warrior was all quiet dignity now he was in the company of a clan leader. Gret seemed determined to sulk over the shame that one of his villages had welcomed Pentadrians, and the evidence was now being paraded through Dunway. Ella was as distant as she had been on the way to the village. Her attention was elsewhere. From time to time her expression changed subtly. She would frown, sigh or smile without obvious reason. He knew she was keeping an eye on the Pentadrians in case they tried to flee or attack the warriors. While the warriors were not lacking in Gifts, none were powerful sorcerers and would need assistance if their prisoners rebelled.
The door covers of the platten had been pinned back. Danjin would have appreciated the view if it wasn’t spoiled by glimpses of the villagers following them, pricking his conscience. Now, to make things worse, he heard a faint patter and realized it was raining. How long would it be before the rain-soaked villagers became sick?
“The Scalar warriors have reached the village ahead of us,” Ella said suddenly. “We will meet them there and stop to rest and gather food.”
All looked at her and nodded. Gret’s brows managed to knit even closer together. He turned away and glowered at the rain outside.
They passed a house, then another several minutes later. The platten slowly descended into a valley, following a road that ran beside a swift-flowing river. Then suddenly they were in the midst of houses, all huddled in a bend in the river. Locals stood on the road or in doorways, watching.
Ella looked at Gret. “Would you greet the Scalar for us?”
Gret’s scowl eased at that. She was giving him the opportunity to appear in control of the group. He nodded once, then climbed out of the platten, jumping to the ground while it was still moving. Danjin heard orders being barked.
The platten rolled to a halt a short while later. Ella climbed out. Following her, Danjin examined his surroundings. The Pentadrians had been herded into what looked like a stock sorting yard. Gret and several Dunwayan sorcerers were standing nearby. The arrested villagers were huddled under the broad veranda of a storage house. A subordinate of Gret’s hurried over to Ella, in the company of a broad-shouldered man with tufts of gray in his hair.
“This is the village leader, Wim,” the warrior said. “He says he has plenty of food and suggested we take some for the journey.”
The man made the sign of the circle. Ella nodded in reply. “We shall do so. Thank you.”
As the pair moved away, Ella walked over to greet the Scalar. The sorcerer warriors looked formidable in their blue clothes and radiating face tattoos. Gret introduced them to the leader, Wek.
After greetings had been exchanged, Ella turned to nod at the Pentadrian group.
“There are a few strongly Gifted ones,” she warned. “So far they have been little trouble.”
Wek nodded. “We have orders to execute them immediately.” He looked at her. “Can you confirm that every man and woman in that group is a Pentadrian?”
“They are,” she said, nodding once. “All but three of the women and one of the men are from Southern Ithania. The four Dunwayans consider themselves fully converted Pentadrians.”
Wek’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “And the villagers?”
“Some are guilty of helping the Pentadrians, some only of neglecting to report their presence. Some may be excused, as they were too young or addled by age to act for themselves.”
Wek nodded. When he did not ask any further questions, Danjin felt his stomach sink. He looked at Ella intently, but she did not meet his gaze. Instead, she turned to Gret. “I must talk to you privately.”
As she moved away, she paused and looked back at Danjin.
“You too, Danjin.” She almost seemed to smile, then her expression grew serious again as they drew out of the hearing of others. “I am to go to Chon as quickly as possible,” she told Gret. “Danjin, you are to go with me, but not the others. I must travel light for the sake of speed.” She paused. “I am to give you both the bad news that we are going to war. The gods called the White to the Altar a short while ago. They have decided we must do what we should have done all along - rid the world of these Pentadrian sorcerers.”
So that’s what she was doing while we were in the plat ten, Danjin found himself thi
nking. Linked to Juran or one of the other White, she was actually talking to the gods!
Gret’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and an eager light came into his eyes. Danjin could see how this turn of events worked in the man’s favor. He might have harbored Pentadrians unknowingly, but now he had the chance to redress the stain on his honor. And he wouldn’t have to endure the shame of accompanying the villagers to Chon.
“I will come with you, Ellareen of the White,” he said. “When will we leave?”
She smiled grimly. “As soon as we can find a platten and fresh horses.”
“Then allow me to hunt you down a set.”
He walked away, his back straight and his steps jaunty. Danjin shook his head.
“Warriors,” he muttered.
Ella chuckled. “Yes, they love a chance to show off their skills.”
He looked at her sideways. “A war, then? And this time we are the invaders.”
She nodded. “The gods’ patience at these attempts to subvert Circlians has been stretched too far this time. We have found Pentadrian Servants in all lands except Si. In Somrey they have been appallingly successful at attracting converts. In Toren we’ve discovered a secret group recruiting the poor and the homeless in exchange for teaching them to use magic to rob the rich. In Genria they pose as healers who specialize in fertility. And in Sennon... well, they’ve always been in Sennon, along with every other madman who follows dead gods or invents new ones.” She grimaced in disgust. “There’s a new cult there that worships the Maker, who apparently created the gods themselves. Strange how the gods aren’t aware of this.”
Danjin smiled. “Strange indeed.”
She sighed. “But they aren’t concerned about this Wise Man and his ideas. It is the Pentadrians we must worry about. We cannot kill their gods, but if we kill the Voices we may weaken them enough that they do not threaten us for a time.”
He nodded, but could not help thinking how closely matched the previous battle had been. Until Auraya had killed the enemy leader, the Circlians had been losing.
Ella smiled. “Yes, we have considered that, Danjin. But this time we have an advantage.”
“Auraya?”
She frowned. “No. We can’t rely upon her help, but the gods have assured us she will not hinder us. No, our advantage is not one individual but a nation: this time we have Sennon on our side.”
“So long as the emperor doesn’t change his mind at the last moment.”
“He won’t,” she assured him. “Not this time. We are going to take this battle to the Pentadrians, and he knows that means it will be fought on his land, at the Isthmus.”
Danjin looked at the arrested villagers. “What of these people? How will I-Portak know who is innocent if you are not there to read their minds?”
Ella shrugged. “Their system of justice has operated well enough without my assistance in the past, as I’m sure it will now.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asked.
She looked at him, then sighed. “I have to. What else can I do?”
“Write a list,” he suggested. “Noting which villagers are guilty of which crimes.”
She considered him, then nodded. “I can do that.”
“I don’t suppose I can persuade you to excuse the children and the sick from this march at the same time?”
Ella shook her head. “Who would look after them?”
“Surely someone would.”
“Even if someone did, would you like to be the one to take a child from their parent?”
He could not answer that. I’d want to spend as much time with my child as possible if I thought I did not have much time left, he found himself thinking.
She sighed and suddenly looked tired. “I must admit, it’s a relief to leave at last.”
Danjin felt a pang of sympathy. “Watching other lands deal out such harsh punishment is never an easy task.”
She gave him an odd look. “I meant to go to war. The gods kept changing their minds. They had us prepare for war, then stand down our armies, then rouse them again. I think it was because of Auraya. When she decided to stay in Glymma it spoiled the gods’ plans. Now perhaps she has left, and we are free to make our move.”
Danjin nodded. “So will she be joining us soon?”
“I don’t know.” Ella shrugged and turned to meet Gret, who was driving a platten pulled by two fresh arem.
36
Footsteps were like hammers in Teel’s head. He opened his eyes. Black-robed men were approaching. They crowded around. He felt hands under him, around him, gripping hard. Pain ripped through him. It crushed his thoughts.
Something cool touched his lips. Rousing again, he swallowed as water was poured down his throat. It tasted sour. He remembered a voice from earlier. A familiar voice.
“He has been poisoned.”
He spat out the water, but the hands and black robes crowded him. Cruel fingers pressed into his jaw. The foul water came again and he surrendered to it. The sooner he died, the sooner the pain would end. He would go to Huan. He was her favorite. She would take him in.
For a time he wallowed in blackness. The pain eased. He had no strength and he was very cold, but he felt better. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the high ceiling of the hall, and remembered his fellow Siyee flying carefully in the close quarters.
All gone, he thought. I’m alone here.
:No, Teel, you are not.
The voice in his mind startled him. It was not Huan. It had a maleness about it.
:I am Chaia.
Chaia!
:Yes. Look to your right, Teel.
He obeyed. The oversized throne loomed above him. He could remember being dragged there after the illness - poison - took hold. He also remembered being lifted and carried back.
A movement attracted his gaze and for a moment he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A woman stood before the throne. Chained.
Auraya!
:Yes. She has been betrayed.
Teel groaned.
:I’m never going to get out of here, am I?
:It is unlikely. I cannot free you. There is nobody here who will obey my orders.
Why doesn’t Auraya use magic to break the chains?
:She is in a place of no magic.
Auraya’s gaze was focused on some distant place. She looked dazed. Teel felt an unexpected sympathy for her. She was so used to being powerful and invulnerable. This must be hard to accept. And humiliating.
:I cannot reach her, Chaia repeated. So you must. Will you speak to her for me?
:Of course.
:Tell her this...
Teel listened carefully, then drew a breath and called out to her. It came out weaker than he’d intended, but her gaze sharpened and her eyes snapped to his.
“Teel!” She frowned in concern. “How are you feeling? The Servants gave you something. I hoped it was an antidote to the poison.”
Suddenly he knew who he had heard speak of poison.
“Oh. I thought they were...” he paused, suddenly breathless “... giving me more poison.” Talking was hard. It seemed to drain more energy from him.
She smiled faintly. “No, but it was a logical conclusion to make. I would have.”
He would have shrugged if he could bother moving. “Doesn’t matter. Chaia... gave me... a message for you.”
“Chaia?” Her eyes widened and he saw hope in them.
“Yes. He said... he will try to keep... talking to you... through me.” It was such an effort to talk. “If the enemy... takes me away... he’ll find... someone else. You’ll know... him from... a word... ‘shadow.’ ”
He stopped, his head spinning. Closing his eyes, he felt himself drifting away.
“Teel!”
Dragging his eyes open, he smiled at her.
“Stay awake, Teel,” she said. “Talk to me.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but it was too much effort. There was a rushing sound in his ears. The room brightened and grew
hazy at the same time. It was a cold light. He could not feel his hands. Or his feet. Breathing was such an effort.
Too much. He gave it up and the light rushed in to burn his thoughts away.
Reivan sighed as she climbed into bed. The summer heat was relentless. She found it hard to remember what the other seasons were like, but easy to imagine this one had no end.
It had been more than a month since Nekaun had visited her. Lately she had begun telling herself that he wouldn’t again. He’d seen all he’d wanted to see of her. His curiosity had been satisfied. He had moved on to more interesting challenges.
Like Auraya.
But Nekaun was no longer trying to charm Auraya. Imenja had told Reivan, with obvious satisfaction, that Nekaun had imprisoned Auraya.
How that was possible was still not clear to Reivan. Or why Nekaun hadn’t killed Auraya. When she had asked, Imenja had simply talked about something else.
The news had brought smiles to many Servants’ faces, and the relief of all was heard in the voices of those gossiping in the Baths and corridors. Reivan had been surprised at her own pleasure at the news. I should be worried about the advantage we are losing by not gaining Auraya’s alliance, but all I can think of is that Nekaun won’t be spending all his time with her now!
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She sighed. The news must have spread beyond the Sanctuary by now. Many of the people she dealt with on Imenja’s behalf would want confirmation.
Reaching the door, she opened it and froze in disbelief.
“Good evening, Reivan.”
I’m dreaming, she thought. I probably dreamed I got out of bed and in a moment I’ll wake up.
But she didn’t. Nekaun really was standing there. She didn’t know what to do. Or say.
Nekaun smiled. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Speechless, she stepped back. As he walked past her she caught his scent and felt a deep longing. Nekaun turned to regard her. “It is too long since we talked, Reivan.”
She nodded and closed the door. Moving to the table she poured water into two glasses and handed one to him.
Voice of the Gods aotft-3 Page 39