Priestess of the White

  No. He’s hiding from Juran.

  She started flying toward the closest of the camps she could remember encountering last night. As she did she forced her mind away from unpleasant possibilities. I trust him. He went there to hide from Juran, not me.

  He was not in the first of the camps, nor the next two. She remembered the direction of Jayim’s backward glance and flew farther southeast. A half-day’s ride from the army she found another. Searching the minds of those below, she glimpsed Leiard’s face in one of the whores’ thoughts.

  And reeled from the thought that accompanied it…. at those buttocks. And I thought him scrawny last night. Definitely not scrawny. If I had my way, I’d give him this night for free. Who’d have thought a Dreamweaver would be so good at…

  Auraya tore her mind away. Hovering above the brothel, she stared down at the tents in disbelief.

  I must be mistaken. The girl must have been thinking of another Dreamweaver. One who looks like Leiard.

  She looked into the thoughts of those below her again. This time she skimmed over the feminine minds, searching for a masculine one. When she found Leiard, it took her a moment to recognize him.

  His thoughts were not those of a man exiled from his love. They were those of a man relishing unexpected freedom.

  It isn’t that I don’t think Auraya’s attractive or smart or good-natured, he told himself. She’s just not worth all this trouble. Better we slip away with no explanation.

  Gone was the affection and respect she had always seen in his mind. There was not even the slightest ember of love left within him. Instead he regarded her with a mild regret.

  She gasped and recoiled, but there was no avoiding the pain that ripped through her. So this is how it feels to have your heart broken, she thought. Like someone has stabbed you and twisted the knife. No, like someone has gutted you and left you to die.

  Tears sprang into her eyes, but she fought them. He had loved her. She knew that. Now he didn’t. Just a few words from Juran had killed it.

  How can that be? How can something that was so strong be killed so easily? I don’t understand. She wanted to look again, to search for an explanation, but couldn’t bring herself to. Instead she began to ascend slowly. She caught the thoughts of the whore again. Leiard had just shaved his beard away completely. The girl thought he looked much younger and more handsome. She told him so, and that he was welcome in her tent any time. Would he be returning tonight? No. Perhaps if he visited Porin in the future…

  Figures emerged from the tents below. Auraya moved herself higher, aware that anyone looking up might notice her. She continued ascending until the camp was a tiny mark on the landscape below. When she reached the clouds the world disappeared behind a wet, cold blanket of white.

  41

  Emerahl lifted the repaired flap of the tarn cover and peered outside. According to the customer she’d attended to last night, the army was a few hours’ ride ahead of them. He’d shaken his head when she’d expressed a hope that they’d catch up. The army was travelling fast, he told her. It would reach the pass before them. It was safer for them to remain at a distance anyway. Who knew what dangers lurked in the mountains?

  He had then set about comforting and reassuring her. She’d realized that he was the kind of man who needed a woman to be weak in order to feel strong and manly. He was not one who felt comfortable around capable women so it was easy to get rid of him in the morning by striding about her tent assertively and making clever conversation. She pitied his wife. Men who needed women to be weak and stupid could be unpleasant to be around when they felt the natural order of things was being upset.

  “What can you see, Jade?”

  She looked at Star, then shrugged. “Rocks. And trees. And more rocks. Oh look, there’s another tree,” she added dryly.

  The girls smiled. Rozea had declared Star well enough to travel with the others last night, though Emerahl was sure the decision had more to do with avoiding another day of incessant chatter. Emerahl had insisted on riding with Star in case sitting up for hours proved too much for her. This gave her an opportunity, at last, to talk to Brand and Tide.

  All of the girls appeared to have forgiven her for becoming the favorite. This might be because they had realized that their grudge was ridiculous, but Emerahl doubted that. She suspected it was her healing of Star that had brought her back into their favor.

  “I had the most amazing night last night,” Charity said.

  Brand, Tide and Bird groaned. “Do we have to go through all that again?” Brand complained.

  Charity gestured at Star. “She hasn’t heard yet.”

  Brand sighed. “Go on, then.”

  Charity’s eyes were bright as she leaned toward Star. “Last night a Dreamweaver came by. It was late and not many of the girls saw him. He wasn’t bad-looking, so I was rather pleased when he chose me.” She paused and grinned widely. “If that’s what all Dreamweavers are like in bed, I’ll take one any time.”

  Star’s eyebrows rose. “He was that good?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Star grinned. “Tell me anyway.”

  Intrigued, Emerahl found herself searching Charity’s mind for any hint of deception. She could detect nothing more than wistfulness, gratitude and, most of all, smugness.

  It was rare, but not unheard of, for a customer to make more than a token effort to pleasure a whore in return. As Charity talked, Emerahl felt a pang of sadness. This night of pleasure reminded her of a few she had experienced herself, long ago, with another Dreamweaver. The Dreamweaver. She smiled as she imagined what the girls would say if she told them of that liaison.

  “Any time he wants to sneak into my tent he can have the night for free,” Charity told them.

  “They don’t call her Charity for nothing,” Brand said, rolling her eyes.

  “What did he look like?” Star asked.

  “Tall. Skinny. I thought he was a bit scrawny at first. Very pale blond hair. Almost white. He had a beard, but he shaved it off the next day. Looked much better without it, too.”

  Emerahl turned her mind from the girls’ chatter. Thinking of Mirar brought her back to her plans to find the source of the tower dream. It seemed a fanciful thing to do, hunting down a dreamer for no real reason other than curiosity. Although what else was there to occupy her? After a hundred years Northern Ithania had filled up with priests and priestesses. That restricted what she could do to almost nothing.

  She was growing more and more convinced that the dreamer was on the other side of the mountains. The closer she got to the range, the stronger and more vivid the dream became. If that meant he or she was among the Pentadrians, so be it.

  “You were right about the secret compartments,” Tide whispered into Emerahl’s ear, making her jump.

  She turned to regard the young woman. “Compartments?”

  “Under the seats,” Tide said, gently tapping her heel against the underside of her seat. “I saw Rozea putting things in here a week or so ago. She does it in the morning, when we’re all still asleep. I woke up and watched her through a hole in our tent.”

  Emerahl smiled. “Aren’t you a clever thing?”

  Tide grinned. “Not that I’m stupid enough to take anything.”

  “No, that would be foolish,” Emerahl agreed.

  Foolish for anyone who needed to stay in the brothel or couldn’t fend for themselves outside of it, she amended. In just a few days the Circlians would clash with the Pentadrians. She would wait and watch, and when the right moment came she would take her money and head for the pass.

  And she would leave whoring, priests and Northern Ithania behind her.

  As the final strut sprang into place, Tryss stood up and gave the bower one last critical examination.

  “It’s fine,” Drilli said. She rose from her crouch and handed him a leg of roasted gowt. “So who did these new soldiers turn out to be?”

  He looked at her in surprise. I
t was easy to forget that information did not always filter through to everyone. They had been flying together when the soldiers had been spotted marching down from the pass. Sirri had told him to fly back and inform the White, and though he had returned hours ago he had only just rejoined Drilli.

  “Dunwayans,” he told her. “They live on the other side of the mountains, but farther north. The men who came down to meet us are tribe leaders, war planners and priests. Most of their army is in the pass, waiting for us to join them.”

  She nodded and chewed slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Have you seen Auraya?”

  He shook his head. “Songmaker says she practices magical fighting techniques with Dyara for most of the day.”

  “She always spends some time each day with us, too, though. Nobody’s seen her at all since yesterday.”

  Tryss took a bite of roasted gowt. It was interesting but not surprising that information about the Dunwayans didn’t spread quickly among the Siyee, yet they noticed Auraya’s every movement.

  “I’m sure she’s occupied with something important. I might find out what it is tonight.”

  Drilli made a small noise of protest. “Another war council? Am I ever going to have you all to myself for an entire night—without you sleeping through it all?”

  He grinned. “Soon.”

  “You always say that.”

  “I thought you were tired.”

  “Yes. I am.” She sighed and crouched beside the fire. “Exhausted. It makes me cranky.” The firelight bathed her skin with a warm orange glow, highlighting her cheekbones and the lean angles of her body.

  She’s so beautiful, he thought. I’m the luckiest Siyee alive.

  “Father still won’t talk to me,” she said gloomily.

  He moved to her side and rubbed her shoulders. “You tried again?”

  “Yes. I know it’s too soon, but I can’t help trying. I wish Mother was here. She would talk to me.”

  “She might not. Then you’d feel doubly worse.”

  “No,” she disagreed with conviction. “She would talk to me. She knows things can be more important than…than…”

  “What things?” he asked absently.

  “Just…things. Here’s Sirri.”

  He looked around to see Speaker Sirri land on an outcrop above their camping place. She smiled.

  “Hello, Drilli. That smells delicious.”

  Drilli rose. “Hello, Sirri. You’re not skipping meals again, are you?”

  Sirri laughed. “I ate something before.”

  “Here.” Drilli stood up and tossed something in Sirri’s direction.

  The Speaker caught it neatly. “A spice cake. Thank you.”

  “She makes them hot,” Tryss warned.

  Sirri took a bite, chewed, then winced. “They certainly are. Well, we’d best fly or the meeting will start without us.”

  Tryss nodded. He rose as Sirri leapt into the air, but paused as he felt Drilli’s arms wind around his middle. He turned to face her. Her kiss was warm and lingering and he pulled away reluctantly.

  “Soon,” he promised.

  “Go on, then.” She patted his rear. “Before she comes back looking for you.”

  He grinned, then turned and leapt into the air.

  They had camped on a small ledge overlooking the road. Most of the Siyee had set up their bowers on ledges and outcrops, whereas the only accessible space for the landwalkers to camp on was the road itself. From the air the landwalkers’ many lamps and fires looked like giant, looping glitterworm larvae.

  Tryss caught sight of Sirri and flapped hard to catch up. She glanced back at him as he neared. “How are your meetings with Songmaker going?”

  “I’m learning faster than he is. He has a big disadvantage, you see. Our spoken language is similar to his, but our whistling words are all new.”

  “How close are you to understanding landwalkers?”

  He shook his head. “A long way off. I sometimes recognize a few words. That tells me what they’re talking about at least.”

  “That could be useful.”

  The white tent appeared around a curve of the road. They both descended toward it. The crowd they usually found waiting outside wasn’t there. As they landed, they heard voices inside.

  “Well, better late than not at all,” Sirri murmured.

  He followed as she strode forward. The discussion halted as they entered.

  “Please forgive us our late arrival,” Sirri said.

  “Don’t apologize,” Juran replied. “We were just making introductions.” He gestured to the four Dunwayans Tryss had seen only briefly before. They were small for landwalkers, but their bulging muscles gave the impression of formidable strength and the patterns drawn on their faces added to their fierceness. As Juran introduced them, Tryss found himself thinking it was probably fortunate that Dunway wasn’t a neighbor of Si. If these people ever decided they wanted more land he doubted even poisoned darts and arrows would stop them.

  When the introductions finished, Sirri moved to her usual chair. Tryss took his place beside her and looked around the room. All of the White were present except Auraya. As Juran returned to a landwalker tongue, Dyara moved between Tryss’s and Sirri’s chairs and began to translate in a murmur.

  “Mil, Talm of Larrik, has reported that the Dunwayan force has settled in the pass at a place well suited to defense,” Juran said. “Hundreds of traps have been set along the road in order to slow and weaken the enemy. Scouts report that the Pentadrians have not yet reached the first of them. It appears the enemy has fallen far behind.” Juran paused. “Unexpectedly far.” He turned to regard Mil. “Any news?”

  Mil glanced at a priest standing nearby, who was clearly of the same race. The man shook his head.

  “Our scouts have seen no sign of them.”

  “There have been no sightings to indicate that the army has diverted to the north either,” Mil added.

  To the north? Tryss frowned, then understanding came in a rush. The Dunwayans were afraid the Pentadrians would turn north to attack them. Their forces were, after all, waiting in the pass rather than at home ready to defend their land.

  “There is no sign of the army at all,” the priest added. “The Siyee were the last to have seen them.”

  There was a pause, and many of the people present were frowning.

  “Surely they’re not still in the mines,” Guire said.

  “Waiting, perhaps,” the Somreyan leader muttered. “But for what?” He looked at Juran. “Are you sure they can’t be tunnelling through the mountains?”

  Juran smiled and nodded. “Very sure.”

  Mil nodded. “I am more concerned that the Pentadrians are taking a different route over the mountains.”

  Juran frowned. “Is there one?”

  “There is no road,” Mil replied. “The mountains are full of gowt-herder paths, however. It would be a slow and difficult journey crossing by these paths, but not impossible.”

  “We must know what they are doing,” Juran said firmly. “If the Pentadrians emerge on the plains while we are in the pass we will end up chasing them across Hania, and beyond.”

  “If they are crossing the mountains, my people will find them,” Sirri said.

  Juran turned to regard her. “That would be dangerous—more dangerous than before.”

  She shrugged. “We know about the black birds now. We will be careful. I will call for volunteers—and this time they will be armed.”

  Juran hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you.”

  Sirri smiled. “They will leave at first light. Do you want one of them to carry a link ring?”

  Juran exchanged a quick glance with Dyara. “Yes. One will be brought to the leader of your volunteers before he or she leaves.” He paused, then looked around the room. “Is there anything else that needs to be discussed?”

  The settling of the matter felt a little abrupt to Tryss, but perhaps he only imagined it. He watched the four White closely, particula
rly Mairae and Rian. Tonight Rian looked…well…unhappy. He occasionally stared out of the tent and scowled. Not an angry scowl, but it was clear something was annoying him. Or perhaps he was disappointed about something.

  He’d noted before that Mairae was more inclined to give away hints of her feelings. As he watched, her gaze became distant and she frowned. He chewed his lip. Perhaps all they were anxious about was the coming battle, and the apparent disappearance of the Pentadrian army. He could not help wondering about Auraya’s absence, though. It was odd that nobody had mentioned where she was.

  Then, suddenly, the answer came to him.

  Of course! Auraya is missing because she’s already out looking for the Pentadrian army! Mairae was worried about her. Rian was annoyed because…perhaps he’d wanted to go instead. Or perhaps he’d thought it too dangerous.

  Either way, it made sense that this was why she was missing. His pleasure at having worked this out faded quickly, however, and was replaced by the realization of the risk she was taking. If she stumbled upon these Pentadrian sorcerers on her own she would be outnumbered. What if she were killed? What would the Siyee do without her? No other landwalker understood them like she did.

  Be careful, Auraya, he thought. We need you.

  42

  The servant dismantling Auraya’s tent untied the ropes at each corner one by one. As the structure slumped to the ground, Danjin sighed heavily.

  She’s been gone two days, he thought. It’s all my fault. He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the gloom that had come over him. I can’t be sure of that. She might have disappeared for a good reason.

  Yet he didn’t believe so. The White were behaving as if there was nothing untoward about Auraya’s absence. They’d given no reason for it, and if anyone had suspicions they hadn’t dared to voice them. However, Danjin knew the White well enough to notice the small mannerisms that betrayed worry and anger.

  Which was why he had been trying to talk to them. Danjin thought it wise not to approach Juran, since the White leader was the one giving away hints of anger at the mention of Auraya. Dyara’s response to his questions had been to find him something to do. Rian just shrugged and said it was not a convenient time to discuss it.