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Back Priestess of the White
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. TRUDI CANAVAN
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. PART TWO
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. PART THREE
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. EPILOGUE
  58. GLOSSARY
  59. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  60. About the Author
  61. Other Books by Trudi Canavan
  62. About the Publisher

The room was crowded with Siyee. All had looked up at Sirri when she entered, and were now regarding him with interest. The priestess was present, looking larger than ever in the close room. She met his eyes and smiled, and he felt blood rush to his face.

Sirri moved to an unoccupied stool. As she sat down, Tryss glanced around the room. There were no other stools. He sat on the floor, where he could see Sirri between two of the Speakers.

“Last night every tribe considered again the White’s proposal for an alliance,” Sirri said. “Last night all tribes made a decision, and all decided the same. We, the Siyee, will make this pact with the White. We will become allies of the Circlians.

“We debated long into the night the exact words of this commitment between us.” She looked at Auraya. “This morning Auraya of the White has scribed these words onto parchment in the languages of both Si and Hania. These two scrolls have been inspected by all.”

The White priestess held up two scrolls. Tryss noted that the wooden rods attached to the parchment were carved with Siyee patterns.

“All that remains is for each of us to sign it on behalf of our tribe,” Sirri finished.

She reached behind her stool and lifted a flat board into view. A small container of black paint sat within a recess of the board and a brush lay in another. Sirri placed the board across her knees.

The White priestess held the scrolls before her. She closed her eyes.

“Chaia, Huan, Lore, Yranna, Saru. Today your wish to see Northern Ithania united in peace comes a step closer to realization. Know that the people Huan created, the Siyee, have chosen to ally with the people you chose to represent you in this world, the White. We do so with joy and great hopes for the future.”

Tryss felt his skin prickle. He had no time to wonder at this as Auraya opened her eyes and handed Sirri one of the scrolls. The Speaker unrolled the parchment, picked up the brush and loaded it with paint.

As the brush-tip moved across the scroll, the bower was utterly silent. A shiver ran down his spine. He watched Sirri paint her name sign and tribe sign on the second scroll, then pass the board to the next Speaker.

Tryss realized this was no ritual refined by centuries of repetition. The Siyee didn’t have a ceremony for an event like this: they had never signed an alliance before. This was a new ritual, begun today.

The silence continued as the scroll passed from Speaker to Speaker. The White priestess watched all patiently. Tryss noticed that her gaze occasionally grew distant, as if she was listening to something beyond his hearing. Once she smiled faintly, but he saw nothing in the room to explain her amusement.