The Hunt

[Jay Carpenter]

Daryen

Behind his smile, Daryen watched the reactions of his subjects as the tsunami of realization washed over them like so many grains of sand molded by his outstretched hand. And just like sand those expressions were quickly smoothed over by the following wave of political considerations. Heads turned back to his face, and even though most hid their expectations he could feel their desire for an explanation thickening the air. Daryen greeted their weighing gazes like the pressure of a lover's body, and he met them with an expression of gentle reassurance. Their trust in him was based in the time he had taken to know them, to let them know he was one of them, and was built upon by his record of a solid, prosperous rule. They had trusted him when he raised taxes and had been rewarded with new roads and assistance with repairing the damage left by the Seanchan. They had trusted him when he invited in more channelers - Asha'man and Aes Sedai both - and been rewarded with not only greater commerce but also an increase in available technology and art. He could see in the way his smile soothed them now that they would be willing to trust him again, but for how long? Hate was a far more natural emotion than trust, making his position that much more precarious. Any reason to doubt him was an opening for their hate of the Seanchan to take precedence over their trust in the King. Lucky for Daryen it was an old hate, dulled by time and good fortune. They were willing to let their faith in him overshadow an old wound, for now.

Most of them, anyway.

Upon the dais, the High Lord faced the crowd with the confidence of a seasoned warrior, accustomed to facing hostile attention but not seeking it. His Voice stood a step behind him to his side, visible but commanding no attention other than what her strangeness attracted naturally. His speech was unnerving, if only for the way it originated in his companion's clear, strong voice. Her eyes sought nothing in the crowd, while his searched the faces as surely as though it was he whose mouth formed the words. Through her, he expressed his pleasure at the opportunity to mend their broken relations in a few sentences that were gracias, if not by any means humbling.

Afterwards the High Lord Sivrikaya took his seat of honor at the base of the dais, his Voice taking her place standing at the back corner of his chair. Daryen released the crowd to their mingling, though he remained on the dais this time, taking the seat next to Jai that Trista had vacated. The unfamiliar intensity in her eyes made it clear she had no desire to relax, if you could even call it that.

Daryen waited as his serving girl Juna proferred another tray of the tiny, crystalline glasses. He plucked one up for himself and glanced at Jai, blue diamonds sparkling with his usual mischief. As the girl departed he stared into the clear liquid for a long moment, finally downing it in a single swallow.

"That went better than I expected."