“Discussion of work over dinner,” Narcissa said a short time later, seating herself with her usual elegant grace, “is normally strictly forbidden. However, since I think it's quite possible you have questions that Evander or I couldn't answer at the time, I'm willing to suspend that rule for the moment.”

That chair, in the corner of Narcissa's private sitting room on the second floor, was as beautifully-made as the rest of the things Narcissa surrounded herself with, and yet clearly well-used, the arms worn to a high polish and the leaf-brocaded green cushions uneven in shape and shiny in spots. The matching footstool showed similar wear. On a low table at her side was a basket of scrolls, and a shelf just above provided a place for a lamp to read by.

Lighting she no longer needed: her nights would now be clearly visible, tinted with violet.

Likewise, they really didn't need as much food as the two teenaged maids had delivered, but it wasn't the first time they'd eaten anyway, in the interests of blending in.

A second chair and footstool, in multiple shades of yellow and amber, golden and ochre, with a sort of scaled brocade pattern, was equally clearly Evander's own, positioned near Narcissa's at an angle and under another ledge for a light, with a second table and basket of scrolls.

The other furnishings in the room were less personalized, but comfortable nonetheless: graceful hourglass chairs, with shaped and carved seats and backrests and well-stuffed cushions. Small ornate tables dotted the room, and a single larger table held dinner in a collection of painted pottery dishes. Each diner had a smallish plate with a sturdy rim around the edge, and one simply refilled it at will. It was a little more elaborate than breakfast or lunch, with a cooked dish of several green vegetables, a bowl each of broth-based soup, and slices of poultry cooked in honey and some sort of tangy fruit, along with the standard bread and cheese. The bread was quite good, dipped in the soup.

“I'm more curious about what rules we're breaking right now,” Mirren said. “I wouldn’t be surprised by some mixed feelings about Madoc and Tyrel, but I caught a few winces when you invited us to this room.”

“My vow not to marry puts me in a special category,” Narcissa said. “I'm not truly a priest, but I'm not really a part of the normal order. In a sense, I'm considered to have no gender. The tradition of having an entirely female household is an old one with complex reasons, and I've been quite comfortable with it, but my safety and that of my household take precedence. In a more conventional household, this room would be for the woman of the house to spend her day in, along with small children and any girls and women in the household, and to entertain her close female friends. The one downstairs would be for the man of the house to conduct business and entertain male friends and business acquaintances.” She smiled. “I have used it as such, and expect to do so again, since my role includes aspects that are more traditionally performed by a man. But I've always liked having the option of a more intimate space as well.”

Coming from the one woman in the room who was wearing a proper long dress, that was interesting.

Kaveri considered asking why she and Evander hadn't simply divided it between them in a conventional way, since they clearly were accustomed to working as a team, but discarded the idea. There could be any number of reasons, from Narcissa's higher status, through different sets of skills, to preferences and personality.

“Is giving a speech in the morning actually going to help?” Tyrel asked, sceptically.

“I doubt it,” Evander said with a sigh. “You heard them. They aren't listening to anything but rumour. They're paying no attention to Neaira's High Priest or to the Oracle.”

“I have to try,” Narcissa said. “A crowd is not a rational beast, but the emotions of a crowd can be manipulated. I intend to point out that Neaira and Oreios are unlikely to work together and even less likely to hire an archer or arrange an attack that could put Neaira's own High Priest in Phleion at risk, and that their respective divine messengers could be expected to be harder to kill or thwart. I expect the demands to speak to me about it to increase over the next several days, and we could spend the next several days doing nothing save repeating ourselves over and over to concerned representatives and delegations with no better chance of success. Since several have heard rumours about one of my rescuers being badly injured, I'll give them the story you suggested, that one of you died protecting me and the rest of you, to honour his memory, are continuing to do so. No one questions the beliefs of foreigners.”

“It's dangerous,” Evander said.

“If I'm hurt, I only need to survive until Lirit rises,” Narcissa said, looking to Kaveri for confirmation, and she nodded. “It might be safer if you were not right beside me, however. I'm less concerned about my life than I am about a second incident. I will not be used as a means of frightening our people, or of denying them a service that they need badly, or of promoting intolerance and prejudice.” While there was no fear in her tone, there was also no equivocation.

“Unless they have another bear and another eagle,” Tyrel said, “they can't repeat that trick again. Because the ones from yesterday are quite dead. Since they had no reason to expect their last attack to fail, I doubt they can come up with something new this quickly anyway. Danger should be minimal, as long as we stay alert. I wish one of us had a flying form so we could watch for the archer, but we’ll take a bit of time tonight after moonrise to scout for places an archer could hide. Also, I doubt those bloody gastrophete things are easy to come by, and he lost his.”

“How does this encourage intolerance?” Mirren asked, puzzled.

Evander winced, barely enough for Kaveri to spot it at all.

Narcissa's forehead furrowed. “How to explain a great deal of social history and theology briefly... That was not precisely the eagle species typically associated with Oreios, but it was near enough that I think few people would notice the difference under the circumstances. Oreios oversees social obligation, propriety, and some aspects of family, including marriage. Some of it has great value, but some of it is impractical and causes unnecessary suffering. His teachings idealize, in fact require, lifelong monogamy between a man and a woman only, and rigidly define roles for men and women in household and society, and they advocate merciless consequences for anything else.”

“Oh. One of that sort,” Tyrel muttered.

“Most of Enodia accepted some time ago that a social system without exceptions and variations is an impossibility and perhaps undesirable as well. There have always been and will always be people who cannot conform, no matter how you define roles and no matter how you try to pretend otherwise or punish them for straying. Those people can have a great deal to offer—some of our most brilliant artists, engineers, philosophers, among others. Similarly, we welcome foreigners, because they have so often enriched Enodia with new ideas and new skills. The irrationality of being more accepting of foreign custom than of the natures of our own people has been pointed out. The majority of Enodia has come to believe that, in effect, one's private life should remain private, as long as everyone involved can and does consent, and has no bearing on one's public life. Several laws regarding illegal acts have been removed. Some of Oreios' most devout would like them restored, and for one's private life to be once again public property, as though who or how one loves or how one dresses can have any bearing on one's ability to do a job or keep the terms of a contract. Or whether one deserves courtesy and equality. Oreios' teachings are, in some respects, in direct conflict with those of several other, equally prominent gods.”

Narcissa, Kaveri thought privately in both respect and amusement, was so accustomed to public speaking that it showed in her speech even within a small group. When giving explanations, at least. She couldn't really complain: at least Narcissa was covering a great deal of information fairly concisely.

“That's what the eagle represents,” Mirren said. “And how it connects to intolerance. But why would anyone think it attacking you has significance? Because you won't marry? I'm sorry if I'm being rude, I'm trying to understand this situation.”

“My personal vow has a great deal of precedent and even Oreios' most devout haven't challenged it. That I have very strong feelings on the subject of freedom is common knowledge. We recently had a situation in Orthia with a physician who made a few 'mistakes' too many and was investigated. Every one of those so-called mistakes involved someone who in one way or another violates the values of Oreios. There were some unpleasant incidents around the trial, including violence against a few unconventional individuals and a vocal minority claiming the physician had been guided by Oreios for the good of Enodia. The physician can no longer practice and is being watched in his new menial job as he labours against the very large fine levied against him: repaying the fees of surviving patients and those charged to families of those who died, and paying off any additional expenses they incurred including funeral costs and legal fees. Evander and I were deeply involved. Though the majority considered the verdict fair, we made some outspoken enemies.”

“Neither the first nor the last,” Evander muttered. “But we thought they were all human. Cissa's feelings for that particular issue are mainly my fault, since it affects me directly.”

Narcissa laid a hand over his. It could have just looked like affection, something they'd already witnessed repeatedly between this pair, but Kaveri saw her fingers flex as she gave his hand a squeeze.

“How?” Kaveri asked. “Trust me, we've encountered any number of things while we've been travelling, we're not easily shocked. We're more or less on our way to visit someone we really like who was born with a female body, but the earthborn he’s sworn to recognizes him as having a male soul and accepts him in an all-male order. And who is considered an appropriate sexual partner or not, and what are seen as natural acts, and what gender or marriage even mean seem to vary everywhere.”

Evander relaxed somewhat, though he did reverse his hand in Narcissa's to hold it. “I was born male. I'm quite certain I should not have been.”

Well, that accounted neatly for a number of small mysteries.

“To what degree is this common knowledge?” Tyrel asked.

“If you are born in a royal family,” Narcissa sighed, “it is all but impossible to grow up without being watched at all times by scores, if not hundreds, of people. Nannies and tutors, palace servants, court functionaries, the aristocracy collectively, your own extended family which includes kin by marriage and their kin, and it goes on. When we were very small, we considered ourselves sisters. As we grew older, it became clear to everyone that my cousin is different.”

“Not everything is public knowledge,” Evander said. “People speculate. They always do, even if there's nothing to base it on. Most, I think, simply assume that I prefer men in my bed. While our family is some protection, there is a very delicate balance. I have reasons for not trying to pretend to fit in. I also have reasons for not going farther. Enough is believed or assumed or known that no one questions the propriety of my presence in Narcissa's household.”

“Our household,” Narcissa added, “are aware of all this and accepting and are careful not to gossip. We do have friends who know, but they are no more fond of Oreios and understand the need for discretion.”

“Understood,” Madoc said. “Most people know enough to be certain you're a viable target for a god with extremely narrow ideas, without knowing precisely in what way. Have a bear kill Narcissa and it removes the founder of the hospitals and creates a powerful reason to inhibit anyone from carrying on or allowing anyone to carry on in her memory. Have an eagle kill Evander and it stirs up fear of retribution in those who are outside one god's restrictive notions of decency, and justifies prejudice and violence against them. Can't help but notice that unless I missed it, his priest hasn't been trying to deny involvement, and oh, how we just love gods and priests like that. From the little we know about the other children of the moons, they like to recruit people who are vulnerable. That would have created a lovely hunting ground for them.”

“Which you thwarted quite effectively,” Narcissa said. “And I can't begin to tell you how glad I am you happened to be here.”

“Are there any animals sacred to other particularly relevant gods?” Madoc asked. “Ones they'll probably try to bring in if they have them available?”

“The wolf is sacred to Briseis,” Evander said. “She guards the wilderness but also Enodia's borders, which ironically enough means she's a patron of fences and boundaries as well. She's the personal guardian of the Diamantian line. There's an old story that she adopted a human child and raised him as her own, and that he's an ancestor some way back. That could work either for us, by the implication that Briseis is guarding Enodia from threats, or against us, that she's protecting Diamantians even from other gods who might have justifiable grievances. But to twist to their purposes? Enodia has so many gods, each with their own sacred animals and attributes and teachings, that one can find a god to fit nearly any situation. Of the Twelve and One? The Great Mother has no animal, or all of them. Makarios is the other healer, the one who oversees public sanitation and surgery and the more technology-based aspects of medicine, but a goose isn't terribly impressive as an assassin.”

Not impressive, but even a single belligerent goose wasn’t an opponent Kaveri would willingly face empty-handed. Fragile though their bones were, that was a lot of startlingly intense aggression backed by very powerful muscle. She agreed it was unlikely as a public spectacle, though, if they even had someone who changed into a goose, and that seemed even less probable.

“Which gods are Oreios' teachings in conflict with?” Tyrel asked.

Somewhere downstairs, the repeated thudding of someone pounding on the sturdy street door echoed dully, with the violent clanging of the normally mellow door chimes barely audible in the intervals.

“Both of our most prominent gods of healing say to offer healing impartially,” Narcissa said, ignoring the noise. “Aithre is the handmaiden of the Great Mother, she was the First Dancer who made the Great Mother laugh with joy. She brought us mead and wine, and she is god of religious ecstasy and prophecy and of things and people that exist on and across boundaries and borders. Her teachings encourage us to embrace the infinite diversity of the world as beautiful. She is the only major god who has a specific sacred role for those who do not fit ordinary categories but there are minor gods who do as well. Scyron, god of justice, civic duty, and contract law, states that everyone must be treated as equals, regardless of wealth or sex or other extraneous detail, and that for any act to be a crime, there must be material harm done. Disapproval by itself is expressly excluded. That's how the old laws were removed, in fact. I suppose an attack by his mule might be twisted into disapproval of our part in the trials in Orthia.”

“Specifically used in support of Oreios,” Evander said, “Tectamos, the god of engineering and craftsmanship, teaches that all things have their proper place and function and that this includes people, who should not rebel against it. It's rather ambiguous how one interprets that, but many claim it to be in agreement with Oreios, and he hasn't clarified it. He's associated with several birds and insects that build structures and use tools, but generally small ones. Rhetia is the god of history and tradition and of the hearth around which stories are traditionally shared, and while she isn't among the Twelve and One, she is highly respected. She is, in general, opposed to change of any sort. Her dog might be a danger. Again, there are any number of minor gods who fall on either side.”

“Oh well,” Madoc said philosophically. “It was worth a try. Once we get the net installed over the courtyard, I'll be a lot happier.”

“The workmen will be here tomorrow to construct the frame.”

“We can do more weaving tonight on the net to put across it.”

“We need to discuss tomorrow evening,” Narcissa said, though she had to raise her voice to be heard.

Evander twisted to look at her, eyes wide. “It's too risky, going out!”

“And the consequences of not doing so? The message it will send?”

“Depending on where,” Madoc said, and now he had to speak more loudly as well, “it's not necessarily all that dangerous, with us... what the hell is with all the pounding?”

“Someone's persistent,” Tyrel agreed, setting down his plate and rising.

All six went downstairs. Hermia was arguing with a deep-voiced man through a grilled window in the front door, though she looked like she'd have preferred to simply close it and ignore him. Melanippe, her hair wet and loose, her slate-blue tunic clinging damply to her body and her feet bare but her knife belt in place, waited alertly nearby.

“A problem, Hermia?” Evander asked.

Hermia turned enough to see them, without her gaze entirely leaving the window. “A persistent visitor, Your Serenity, who is not willing to wait until tomorrow. He insists that Her Gracious Serenity admit him immediately and begin to close the hospitals tonight.”

Kaveri laid a hand on Narcissa's arm, and a finger over her lips; Narcissa nodded. The window was, probably by design, too small to allow any view of the interior.

“Her Gracious Serenity,” Evander said coolly, “is not accepting visitors of any kind or on any errand currently. Today and yesterday have been, to say the least, trying. She will be speaking tomorrow in front of the hospital on the subject of yesterday's attempt on her life and the fraudulent attempt to blame it on two of the Twelve and One. If you do not leave immediately, the city patrol will be summoned and you will face several charges. Harassment and trespass, at least, and possibly disturbing the peace.”

“I want to talk to the princess!” the man outside bellowed. “Not you, you little deviant! Oreios' eagle should've killed you even if the bear missed her!”

Evander didn't so much as twitch, but Narcissa's face hardened, and Hermia scowled.

“You can add threats to the list of charges,” Evander said, his tone not changing. “Hermia, close it, please.”

Hermia nodded, and closed the small window, which had a latch.

“The watch know you. Could you please ask them to take care of this?”

“I'm not certain I'm comfortable leaving you, even with Melanippe still here,” Hermia said.

The pounding started again within heartbeats.

“He certainly isn't getting through that door,” Narcissa said. “But I'm not willing to let this slide. There are no circumstances in which this kind of behaviour is acceptable.”

“He isn't at the back door himself,” Madoc said, “but it's possible he has a friend or two lurking there. Suppose Kaveri and I come along, at least out the door, just in case? Dealing with something like that would only slow you down. And Kaveri's good at disabling without killing.”

Hermia regarded him measuringly, then nodded abruptly. “It's a good thought, and thank you. Melanippe, come watch the door?”

Kaveri untied and unwound her belt. In both hands, it gave her two flexible clubs, plus she'd learned a variety of interesting tricks over the years that she could do with a densely-braided rope with a chain core and a substantial lead weight on either end—and there always seemed to be more. Madoc unfastened his clawed glove, pulling it on as they followed Hermia deeper into the house. “Back soon,” he said cheerfully.

“Madoc's becoming civilized,” Mirren murmured. “He didn't suggest we open the front door and thump this pest.”

“I heard that, Mirren!” Madoc called back. She just grinned.

Kaveri personally wasn't sure whether it was sharing a moon that created the kind of bonds she saw, or something to do with whatever a given moon’s criteria were for choosing them. Either way, she wondered about herself and Narcissa a decade from now.

“If they get here before he leaves,” Narcissa began grimly, to be interrupted, the last thing Kaveri heard before they were out of range, by Evander's mild, “I've been called worse, Cissa.”

The cook, Acantha, and one of the maids, tall lean Oenone, came out of the kitchen to the back door, concerned. Hermia shooed them away while Melanippe quietly drew back the well-oiled bolts at the top and bottom.

“Us first,” Madoc murmured. “Don't hang around, just go. Close the door as soon as we're out, just in case, but we won't let anyone past. We'll use the knock pattern I taught you earlier, don't open it otherwise.” Kaveri shifted her grip on her weighted belt to two-handed while he drew his sica.

Hermia nodded, and looked at Melanippe, who pulled the door open.

Not two steps out, two men jumped them.

Madoc lashed out cat-quick with his gloved hand, eliciting a splatter of red blood and an unfamiliar curse, and Kaveri ducked, swinging both weighted ends at the same target from different angles. One thudded home solidly, but the other struck only glancingly.

It didn't take long. These weren't really fighters, just troublemakers with some brawling skills. Kaveri tangled her opponent's short cudgel and yanked it from his hand. Madoc simply got in close and wrapped his gloved hand around the attacker's wrist, demonstrating how the fingertip claws could bite into flesh when Madoc chose to curl them. Only a moment later, they had both subdued. Kaveri stayed to watch them, swinging the ends of her belt idly, while Madoc went back inside for rope to bind them.

The patrol showed up promptly with Hermia, were duly deferential to Narcissa and polite to all members of her household, efficiently collected accounts of the disturbance, and departed with the slightly-injured pair from the back door and the noisy man from the front.

“That was pointless and annoying,” Narcissa sighed, as Evander bolted the front door behind the last of the patrol. “Do people really think that shouting and intruding on my home and calling my beloved cousin names will make me at all inclined to do anything they wish? I thought I had made it sufficiently clear by now that I will not be bullied or provoked into going against my best judgement.”

“It's possible,” Evander said slowly, “they were hoping to get inside and finish what they believe, or would like to believe, or could try to excuse as, what Neaira and Oreios began.”

“It might have worked,” Hermia said, “had I opened the back door alone.”

“Murdered in our own house,” Narcissa said with a shudder. “This is mad. And it has to stop.”

“Come on,” Mirren said, her voice pitched to the sort of calm reassurance Kaveri remembered her using in Galimont on traumatized victims—it had worked then, and had worked often since. “Let's go back upstairs and have a cup of wine, and we'll talk about your speech tomorrow and what you want to do tomorrow night. And about lessons in emergency self-defence that can buy enough time for us to reach you.”