She shrugged. “Very good, actually. King Berro has been remarkably well-behaved recently. King Guire is as sensible as ever. They’re being gracious, acknowledging each other’s part in the war and exchanging praise for the skills of their fighters.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for all this male strutting about to turn into bickering again.”
Juran chuckled and turned to Auraya. “How are the Siyee?”
She grimaced. “I have not heard from them since they left the battlefield.” She paused. “It would be much easier to communicate with them if we had priests there. I did promise them that we would send some, as healers and teachers.”
Juran frowned. “It is a difficult journey.”
“Yes,” Auraya agreed. “I’m sure we will find some young priests willing to make the effort for the chance to live in a place few landwalkers see. We could hire that explorer who delivered our first proposal of alliance as a guide.”
“Yes. Arrange it, Auraya. And ask if any of the Si are interested in coming here to join the priesthood.” He turned to Rian. “What of the Dunwayans?”
“A happy lot at the moment,” he said. “Nothing pleases a warrior culture more than the chance to participate in such a grand battle. They’re almost disappointed it’s over.”
Juran smiled crookedly. “What of the traps in the pass?”
“They’re still in the process of removing them.”
“How much longer will it take?”
“A few more weeks.”
Mairae smiled as Juran turned to her.
“No complaints from the Somreyans. They left a week ago, as you know, and should reach Arbeem today or tomorrow.”
Juran nodded. “Then that leaves the Sennons.” To Auraya’s surprise, he looked at Dyara. The woman was taking care of matters relating to two countries already, Toren and Genria. Surely she would not be taking on a third - especially when that country had sided with the Pentadrians and was likely to be difficult and time-consuming to work with.
“The emperor himself has sent messages proposing a ’new era of friendship,‘ ” Dyara said, her disapproving expression telling them what she thought of this. “Rumor says he has torn up the alliance he signed with the Pentadrians.”
“Good,” Juran replied with satisfaction. “Encourage him, but don’t be too eager.” He looked at Rian and Mairae. “Since Somrey and Dunway aren’t causing you much trouble, I want you to work with Dyara on this one. I doubt we will persuade the emperor to ally with us any time soon. He knows doing so would make his country the Pentadrians’ first target if they declare war on us again. See how much you can get from him while he’s feeling guilty about siding against us.”
Dyara, Rian and Mairae working together on Sennon, Auraya thought. What about me? The Siyee are no trouble... But of course. There is another country that we seek alliance with.
Juran turned to her. She smiled.
“The Elai?”
“No,” he replied. “I have another task for you, but we will deal with that later. Let us discuss matters beyond our shores. What should we do to avoid a Pentadrian attack in the future?”
The others exchanged glances.
“What can we do?” Rian asked. “We let them return to their home, where they are strongest.”
“Indeed we did,” Juran replied. “So what choices do we have now? We can do nothing and hope they will not regain their strength and attack us again, or we can work toward preventing it.”
Dyara frowned. “Are you suggesting an alliance? They would never agree to it. They believe us heathens.”
“In that they are wrong, and that is a weakness we can exploit.” Juran interlocked his fingers. “Our gods are real. Perhaps the Pentadrians would abandon their false gods if they knew this.”
“How would we convince them?” Rian asked. “Would the gods demonstrate their power if we asked it of them?”
“So long as we didn’t keep asking them to make an appearance every time we met a Pentadrian,” Juran replied.
Dyara made a small noise of disagreement. “Would the Pentadrians believe it, or conclude that we had conjured an illusion?”
Auraya chuckled. “Just as you and Juran have concluded that the Pentadrian god I saw was an illusion?” she asked lightly.
Dyara frowned, but Juran looked thoughtful. “Perhaps we would have been convinced, if we had been there.”
“If their gods are real we will have to convince them ours are better,” Mairae said.
Juran nodded. “Yes. For now we must make the Pentadrians change their mind about us. We must not only convince them that our gods are real, but that we are better befriended than invaded. Everything they dislike about us must be shown to be false. They think us heathens; we prove them wrong. They think us intolerant of other religions;” his eyes flickered to Auraya, “we prove them wrong.”
Auraya blinked in surprise, but Juran did not pause to explain himself. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “I want you all to think about this carefully.” He looked at them each in turn. “Find out what they loathe about us. Make befriending us beneficial to them. We do not want another invasion, and the last thing I fancy doing is conquering the southern continent and having the trouble of trying to rule it.”
“If it is information we need, we should boost our network of spies,” Rian said.
“Yes,” Juran agreed. “Do it.”
He turned to Auraya. “Now for your task.”
She sat up straighter. “Yes?”
“The Pentadrians believe we are intolerant of other religions. I want you to continue your work with Dreamweavers. I was impressed with their healing efforts after the battle. Many of the healer priests and priestesses expressed admiration for their skills. They said they learned much just from watching the Dreamweavers. People in this city could benefit from Dreamweaver and Circlian cooperation. I want you to set up a place in which Dreamweaver and healer priests and priestesses can work together.”
Auraya stared at him, wondering if he knew that this was exactly what she had thought of doing herself. Were his motives as noble as his words suggested? Did he realize the impact this might have on the Dreamweavers?
The Dreamweavers’ continued existence relied on their unique healing abilities. People sought their help, despite distrust and intolerance, because Dreamweavers were better healers than Circlian healer priests. Most people who chose to become Dreamweavers did so in order to preserve that healing knowledge.
In doing so, they forfeited their souls. The gods would not take the souls of the dead who had not worshipped them in life. If Circlians knew as much about healing as Dreamweavers, fewer people would want to become Dreamweavers and fewer souls would be lost.
The cost was to weaken, perhaps even destroy, a people she admired. Yet, that cost didn’t seem so high now. Saving souls was more important than preserving a heathen cult. And the living would benefit, too. There were more Circlian priests and priestesses than Dreamweavers. They could save more lives.
For Juran to suggest she encourage Circlians and Dreamweavers to work together was extraordinary. He had, after all, killed Mirar at the gods’ bidding. How far would his acceptance of their skills go?
“Do you mean to limit the kind of skills these healers learn from Dreamweavers?” she asked. “What of the whole range of mind-healing skills - of mind links and dream links?”
Juran frowned, obviously not comfortable with the idea. “Begin with the practical, physical information. If these dream-related skills prove themselves useful, we will consider taking them on.”
She nodded. “I will begin making the arrangements tomorrow.”
Juran looked at her, his expression thoughtful, then straightened and drew in a deep breath.