“I, therefore, wish to propose a new Patron Goddess to the people of . . . to the people of the Heias Precinct and to its nearest neighbors,” she allowed, stopping herself from saying the kingdom’s old name. She tipped her head respectfully toward the dozen or so Guild Masters summoned from cities within a few hours’ travel of Heias. “The sooner we can unite ourselves behind a common faith which we can all agree upon, the sooner we can claim Patronage, and the sooner we can re-create ourselves formally as a new kingdom and not a lawless land ripe for anyone to harvest.
“So. Will you hear the details of my proposal?” she asked, lifting her gaze to the others in the hall.
Conversations broke out all over the room. Since they were neither loud nor heated, the head of the local Consulate allowed them to continue for a minute or so before tapping his gavel. Rexei remained on her feet as the crowd of men and women fell quiet again. “Your words of warning have merit, though I doubt we will come to a vote within a single evening, young Master Longshanks. But we will hear your petition . . . and any others that may come along.”
“There really is only one choice, Grandmaster,” Rexei stated earnestly. On this ground, she felt secure and calm, not nervous. Turning to face the crowd on the pews and benches, she addressed them. “I ask all of you, what is our true strength in this land? Is it our weapons? No, for magic can and has thwarted them. They have kept us from losing more than an inch of our kingdom in decades, but neither have we gained more than an inch. Is it our militia? No, for the same reasons, having gained or lost nothing. Was it our engineering skills, our grasp of construction and machinery?
“No . . . and it should not be such things, because these things are nothing without the framework that has kept us strong and kept us safe in spite of Mekha’s accursed hunger. What kept all of us safe was not even the rule of law,” she added, looking down the table to the midpoint, where the formidable Precinct captain sat. Somewhere out in the audience was his leftenant, Alonnen’s brother, but she didn’t look toward Rogen. “It was the system that enforced those laws. The guilds kept all of us safe.
“The guilds have organized our crafts, proposed and ratified laws, even tended to the sick and the injured. Each guild is not just an organization that teaches certain skills; each guild is a family, bound by ties of expectation and regulation, not by mere blood. So I propose that we consider turning our thoughts and our faith and our strength as a system of guilds into worshipping a force I have come to call Guildra, the Patron Goddess of Guilds.”
“A Goddess?” The question came from one of the men seated near her. She didn’t know his face or his name, but from the oval medallion he wore, he was the Guild Master of Clockworks. “Why a Goddess? Why not a God?”
“Forgive my bluntness, Guild Master,” Rexei apologized, “but the women of this kingdom are sick and tired of being forced into lesser status and rank under the thumb of a male God run by a male priesthood. We are all tired of the False God, and we need something completely different from everything that Mekha was and everything that He stood for. Which includes everything that His priesthood stood for—everything you saw for yourself when they arrogantly tried to come in here and claim their old right to force their will upon us. Do you really want to follow in their footsteps by forcing women to continue to take a subservient role, or would you rather women stand as an equal at your side, something they would not have put up with?”
The head of Clockworks shook his head, lowering his gaze.
“The Goddess I envision welcomes both genders equally into Her service,” Rexei explained. “More than that, Her priesthood should not be ranked higher than any other guild, but instead should be considered to be in the service of other guilds rather than be served by them. I propose that Her priesthood be drawn from women and men alike, so that everyone is represented equally. I propose that this new priesthood should also be like unto the Gearmen, in that anyone wishing to join should serve as an apprentice in at least three different guilds, so that Her priesthood understands the differences and the similarities in each and every guild.
“I do not propose that the Gearmen should become the new priesthood,” she added quickly, catching sight of Toric’s chest rising. She didn’t want him to interrupt. “Members of the Gearmen’s Guild may be welcome to join—and they will certainly qualify—but no one should be forced to join. More importantly, the Gearmen already hold an important position, as adjudicators and arbiters of the law. That should not be changed.
“Instead, I propose that those who would become members of the new . . . the new Holy Guild, to label it as distinct and different from the old Priests Guild,” she added, since she hadn’t been able to come up with any better name for it, “those who wish to join should be required to step down from participation in the Consulate system, because while Gearmen have a proud tradition of serving more than one guild, priests should not have the right to rule over gatherings such as this.
“We have all had it up to here,” she added, hand rising to smack the back of her fingers into the bottom of her chin, “with Mekha’s priesthood making the laws. The Holy Guild should be no more important than the Actors Guild, or the Tillers, or the Cobblers and Cordwainers, who repair and make shoes—they should have a vote in a meeting like this but not the deciding vote. So I propose that the Holy Guild, and our Goddess, be very different from all that we used to know. We all deserve something completely different!”
Her words were having an impact, for more than one head bobbed in an agreeing nod. Many did, so she increased the fervor of her proposal, her argument.
“Our Goddess should be a gentle deity whose focus is the gathering of supplies, the drafting of designs, and the crafting of the things we need to live in peace and cooperation. We shouldn’t give up the pursuit of mechanical understanding, but we should turn our weapons of war into tools for construction,” Rexei stated fervently, putting into words more than what she had put onto paper. She put her belief, sprouted and nurtured over the eleven-plus years during which she had run from all the evil that Mekha and His priesthood had inflicted upon her people. “Serving as an apprentice and a journeyman in numerous guilds, I have given the true nature of our culture many years of thought. I have even done my best to spread a symbol for this Goddess we need, so that we should have something to look forward to one day. And while I never thought to see this chance happen in my lifetime, this opportunity is upon us now.
“I’m sure you have all seen the symbol by now: The paintbrush, through which we design all that is best in our lives,” she recited, looking up often from her notes to make sure she caught the eyes of a woman here, a man there. “The hammer, with which we craft all that is useful. The scythe, through which we feed and supply ourselves. Each of these forms the spokes for a gearwheel. Even the gearwheel of our engineering achievements should be accepted and welcomed, for it is by the clockworks and the engines and the pistons and the whatevers that we have improved our magicless lives. Guildra shall be a Goddess of creation, not destruction. Guildra is a Goddess of cooperation, not deceit.