"It'll mean cutting your leave short, I'm afraid. I'd like you to have the Hermnaen ready for takeoff tomorrow morning, with just the ship crew, no combat troops. You'll be carrying the human prisoners instead, plus the Supreme, the First Speaker, my sponsor Hovan, and myself."
"You, Lord?" Arjen knew he shouldn't question a god, but why would one want to travel by ship?
Tarlac understood Arjen's question. "I could transfer myself—or all of us, for that matter—but humans aren't as ready for open divine intervention as Traiti. I'd rather let things seem as normal as possible. Can you arrange for the ship?"
"Of course, Lord. We will be ready at daybreak."
"Thanks." Tarlac returned fully to his mortal body at the Ch'kara clanhome. Arjen's pride in the assignment pleased him; it would ease the Fleet-Captain's lingering discomfort at having violated the body-return signal, even by the First Speaker's—the Lords'—orders. Many in D'gameh shared his uneasiness, and calling Arjen by name would repair the reserve Tarlac had sensed toward him there.
Ch'kara's gathering hall was beginning to empty, his n'ruhar responding to his desire for normality. Finally only a small group remained at the base of the dais: the First Speaker and Supreme; the two physicians, Channath and Jason; and Daria, Hovan, and Yarra.
Jason, the only human, was also the only one who couldn't quite seem to accept the human Ranger's new status. Tarlac appreciated the irony and was amused by it, but it didn't really matter. "Doctor," he said, "I need your professional opinion. Are the prisoners fit to travel?"
The doctor was a professional; his expression hardened. "No, sir, though I can only speak for those held in the same camp with me—"
"That is all of them," the Supreme broke in.
"Okay. Go on, Doctor."