“Yes,” the warm voice spoke from that lam-bence.
Hanse had elected not to genuflect on meeting a prince of Ranke. Now, upon
meeting that god Who was god of gods, he was far too shaken to think of falling
to his knees.
Lord Ils proved that he was no mere king or emperor or religious leader, to
insist upon such displays. Neither egoism nor egotism marked gods. They had no
need of either. They were gods. Cudget’s face vanished and again Hanse was
forced to squint. Someone still sat at table’s end in that big dining hall, but
there was no face at all now. There was only light.
Eyes almost closed, Hanse was forced to look away from it-and discovered that
now he looked upon a goddess, all in deep warm pink bordered with silver and
sashed with scarlet. With jewels flashing in the deep indigo silk of her hair;
or perhaps they were stars.
The voice of warmth spoke.
“Yes,” it said again. “Cheated of strength in my own lands, but not drained,
Hanse Son of Shadow. The intensity of belief of one who had sneered at gods, and
his loyalty that is not automatic but learned, volunteered-it is you I speak of,
Hanse-these aided Me. For gods and mortals are mutually dependent, Hanse.
“My cousin Savankala’s son Vashanka has waxed here by the power of belief of one
variously called the Riddler, and Thales, and Tem-pus, as well as the Engineer,
and Sea-born. We need not concern you with who he really is. Vashanka wished his
freedom one night; wished it enough to bargain with Me. It required only the
efforts of Shalpa my son to cloud the skies that night. Because the climate of