To the right of the Tower lay the Five Houses, a large hexagonal building that housed the priesthood. Danjin had never entered it and probably never would. While he respected the gods and their followers, he had no desire to become a priest. At fifty-one years of age he was too old to be giving up some of his bad habits. And his wife would never have approved.

Then again, she might like the idea. He smiled to himself. She’s always complaining I mess up her house and plans when I’m home.

A generous spread of open land surrounded the Temple buildings. Paved paths and garden beds had been laid out in patterns of circles within circles. The circle was the sacred symbol of the Circle of Gods, and some of the ways it had been incorporated into the Temple made Danjin wonder if the original designers and architects had been demented fanatics. Did they need to decorate the communal toilets with circular designs, for instance?

The platten rolled ever closer to the Tower. Danjin’s heart was beating a little too fast now. White-clad priests and priestesses strode back and forth, a few noting his arrival and nodding politely, as they probably did to anyone as richly dressed as he. The platten came to a halt beside the Tower and Danjin climbed out. He thanked the driver, who nodded once before urging the arem into motion again.

Taking a deep breath, Danjin turned to face the Tower entrance. Heavy columns supported a wide arch. He moved inside. Magical lights within revealed the entire ground floor of the Tower to be a densely columned hall. Here, gatherings were held and important visitors entertained. Since the White were the rulers of Hania, as well as heads of the Circlian religion, the Temple was as much palace as religious center. Rulers of other lands, their ambassadors and other significant personages congregated here on important occasions, or visited to negotiate political matters. This was a unique situation; in all other lands the priesthood was secondary to the ruling power.

The hall was filled with people and buzzed with voices. Priests and priestesses hurried about or mingled with men and women dressed in tunics made of luxurious fabrics, covered in generous tawls despite the heat, and glittering with jewelry. Danjin gazed around at the faces, feeling something akin to awe. Nearly every ruler, every famous, wealthy and influential man and woman of Northern Ithania was here.

I can’t believe I’m seeing this.

What had brought them to the Temple of Hania was a desire to witness the gods choose the fifth and final White. Now that the ceremony had taken place, they all wanted to meet the new member of the Gods’ Chosen.