were empowered with finding and even using lethal force on those who committed offense to Nehitimar. “Not exactly. I find those whose religious practices are a danger to our country. I do it for the government—not for any god.”
“If Dr. March is like most Gemmans,” said Jeremiah. “I’m guessing he has no god.”
“Correct,” said Justin, uncertain if that was a lie. If so, the ravens let it go.
This was clearly a radical concept to some of the younger people at the table, but the government officials were prepared for it. “Not a bad system, your servitors,” chuckled one of them, a presidential secretary named Matthias. “Anyone not worshipping Nehitimar is a danger. Now if you only had his teachings in your country, you’d be all set.”
“Now, now, that’s enough of that,” said Carl. He had his host’s smile on, but a tension in his eyes said he was well aware that they were straying from easy small talk. “Dr. March will hear much wiser words from the Grand Disciple than he will from any of us when they meet tomorrow.”
“Are we?” asked Justin, startled. The Arcadians’ highest religious authority hadn’t been listed on any itinerary. “I thought we were meeting the president tomorrow.”
“You are,” said Carl. “And then the rest of these gentlemen are going to tour some of our famous monuments in Divinia while you go to the temple and meet with the Grand Disciple.”
“It’s a great honor,” said Jeremiah gently. “Few are granted a personal audience with His Piousness. You alone have been asked from your party. No soldiers, I’m afraid. It’s forbidden for outside warriors to set foot in the temple. But you’ll be well-treated.”
Justin nodded, still a little stunned. “Thank you.”
“We’ve also made some arrangements for your women,” said another Arcadian. His name was Marlin, and he seemed to be particularly active in managing the Gemman itinerary outside of Carl’s home. “Naturally, they won’t come to the presidential luncheon tomorrow. They can stay here and help out Carl’s family. I’m sure his women will appreciate the extra help. But afterward, we can have them join you for the city tour if you think they’d like to see some of the sights.”
Sightseeing over household work back here? Yes, Justin was pretty sure they’d like that.
Atticus leaned forward, face thoughtful. “Will Justin’s concubine be able to go with him to the temple?” It was a surprising question until Justin realized that their diplomat was uncomfortable with Justin separating from the group to meet with the Arcadian head of religion. Atticus’s earlier expression when the visit had been brought up suggested that it wasn’t something he’d known about it either.
The Arcadian men looked astonished at the suggestion. “Whatever for?” asked Matthias.
Even clever Atticus hesitated over that. He certainly couldn’t say he wanted extra protection. Justin jumped forward as insight hit. “Sometimes she acts as my secretary. Takes notes when I’m in the field.
There’s a lot I’d love to learn from the Grand Disciple, and I’d hate to be distracted with menial work.”
Some of the Arcadian officials exchanged glances, and Justin waited to see if the ploy would work. Arcadian women rarely held professions, but Justin hoped use of the word “menial” would make what she did seem suitable for her gender. He also hoped none of them were savvy enough to the Gemman bios to ask why a so-called musician was fulfilling that function.
“Perhaps we could supply a secretary,” suggested Matthias.
“We’re aware of the differences in our customs,” said Marlin delicately. “And we are trying to accommodate some of yours. But you must understand that there are some things even we can’t change. Women naturally go to the temple, but it’s very irregular for a woman—any woman—to actually be in His Piousness’s presence. They are a distraction.”
“Of course,” said Lucian smoothly. “But I’m sure she could be unobtrusive.”
Marlin looked uncertain, but it was the Venerable Jeremiah who unexpectedly spoke up. “The Grand Disciple is very eager to speak with you, Dr. March, and he’s a very understanding and compassionate man. We certainly want you to be as comfortable as possible during your audience. Let me contact him tonight and see what arrangements can be made. There might be no problem at all if she goes Cloistered.”
“Which one is she?” asked Carl’s second oldest son. “Jasper,” snapped Carl. “It’s irrelevant.”
“I don’t know.” Jasper’s gaze drifted over to the women’s table across the room. “I’d keep them all Cloistered if they were mine.”
The mix of shock and discomfort on the Arcadians’ faces made Justin think they were dancing along a dangerous topic, but he had to ask the obvious question. “What does Cloistered mean?”
“If a woman continues to be a source of temptation and strife for men, Nehitimar decrees that she must be punished by going Cloistered. It refers to a head-to-foot veil that wraps around her, obscuring her body and features,” explained Matthias.
“And it’s a punishment?” asked Justin, seeking clarification. He chose his next words very carefully. “Is it brought on by willful actions on her part to cause, uh, temptation and strife? Or is she punished just for . . .” He nearly said “being attractive” but thought better of it. “. . . her presence?”
“Both,” said Jasper.
“Don’t think of it as a punishment in the case of the temple,” said Jeremiah. “Merely a precaution. Those who serve Nehitimar need to keep their minds on holy things, not the baser temptations of women.”
Incredible, Justin thought. They punish their women for what sounds like male weakness to me. But he couldn’t let us mind linger on that for too long, not when there was an opening at hand.
He put on what he hoped was an easygoing smile. “Do I need to dress up or wear anything special? I’ve seen pictures of the Grand Disciple, and he’s a pretty imposing figure, with the robes and that staff of his. There’s some kind of bird on it, right? An eagle?” Lucian looked up sharply, surprise lighting his features.
Jeremiah nodded gravely. “The eagle of Nehitimar. It’s one of the Grand Disciple’s most holy objects. He only brings out that staff on high feast days and holidays, when he addresses great crowds. The robes of state . . . well, it’s hard to say if he’ll be in full regalia or not. If so, you needn’t feel intimidated. What you’re wearing now is perfectly acceptable. The Grand Disciple is used to overshadowing us ordinary men.”
Silence fell at that, but Lucian was too good to let it last. “Well, I’m thrilled that Justin’s going to get to meet someone so exalted—it’s an honor for all of us, really—but I confess, I’m just as excited for myself to finally get to see some of the wonders of your country. What’s on the sightseeing schedule?”
Tourism was a safer topic than women or religion, and everyone gratefully transitioned. Justin listened with half an ear while his mind wandered. When Geraki had mentioned the golden eagle being a threat, Justin had assumed it was some sort of symbol. The picture he’d seen on Mae’s ego, with the Grand Disciple holding the staff, had furthered that idea. It made Justin think the golden eagle was symbolic of the Arcadian religion, which was so deeply tied to the Arcadian government and a threat in and of itself.
But now, Jeremiah’s words made Justin wonder if something more literal was happening. Is that eagle staff itself dangerous? he asked the ravens. Could that be what Odin was warning Geraki about?
Possibly, said Horatio. It could be some sort of divine artifact, which would be a rare and lucky find for the Grand Disciple—and give him and his god an edge in the battle going on.