“It is in the nature of gods to be self-directed, what you call selfish.
Sometimes we forget your mortal attachments, unbroken by death. I thought you
would like the face of your mentor and late best friend and foster father, my
beloved friend and servant Hanse. My own visage is only Light; Lambence;
Candence. For I have not a thousand eyes you know, not really.”
“You… cannot be …”
“Hanse-take the crossed brown pot with you,” Cudget said in Mignureal’s voice,
and only she and Hanse knew that she had said those words to him one night of
evil. (Or did she?) And then Cudget was speaking on, in another voice that Hanse
did not at first recognize. Then he did-it was his own! He remembered the words,
from the night he had gone to Kurd’s and nearly died-no! He had not uttered
those words! He had but thought them, and only he could know them: “0 Ils, god
of my people and father of Shaipo my patron? It is true that Tempus Thaies
serves Vashanka Tenslayer. But help us, help us both, lord Ils, and I swear
to do all I can to destroy Vashanka Sister-wrfer or drive him hence, if only
You will show me the way!”
On hearing those words issue in his voice from the Being at the far end of the
long table, Hanse could only stare.
“Only two could know that prayer of yours, Hanse. Only two not just in all the
world, but in all the universe. You are one; the other is He who hears all words
directed to him, whether they are uttered by tongue or mind only.”
Pale, Hanse could only gasp forth shaky words: “Lord… God.”