But the women were retreating. One or two, then the rest. Their bootsteps sounded in the courtyard. Whispered voices. The dull hiss of leather and armor, the clink of chain mail.

An affront to Zezili’s possessions was an affront to Zezili. They no longer had a near-cousin to stand behind.

Anavha watched the blood leave Tanasai’s body. It pooled about his naked feet.

He pulled himself away from her. She spat blood at him.

“They’ll kill you… for this. You’re… Rhea’s now,” Tanasai said. She made a hissing, gurgling sound, like a cough or a sigh.

Then she was still.

It took Anavha some time to move. He crawled toward Daolyn’s crumpled body. She was breathing but not conscious. An ugly black bruise was forming on the right side of her face. He went to Zezili’s room where the big tub was and ran some water. He washed his hands and face. His hands were trembling.

He had done violence. He had done violence against a woman. She had died. Would those women call the enforcers? Or the priests? Karosia Soafin had already been called in once because of something he might have done. This… this was much worse. Zezili was away. She could not protect him from Karosia, or the enforcers.

But he could go to her.

Once he made the decision, it seemed so easy, so obvious. He would go to her. She wasn’t far, if her letter to Daolyn about visiting Lake Morta was true. The lake was just a three- or four-day journey away, southeast. He had been there before during high summer with Zezili. The dog Zezili let him use was still in the kennels. The dajians would put on the tack. He would pack food. He would… But he would be a man traveling alone. Someone would stop him, ask for his papers, his chaperone. He might be able to pass as a woman, though, if he wore a coat and hood, left the girdle behind…

Zezili would understand.

He walked to Zezili’s wardrobe. Her clothes were too big for him, but he managed to tie on women’s straight-legged trousers and an under-tunic. He found a dark coat with a hood. He would have to wear his own boots. Bring gloves. It would be cold at the lake. Daolyn kept a little petty money in a box in the high cupboard in the kitchen for everyday things. He retrieved this, pocketed it, and went back to where Daolyn lay. He put a pillow from his bed beneath her head and draped her with his own quilt. The dajians had gathered in the doorway to the kitchen and stared at him as he moved about. He did not speak to them until he was dressed and walking to the door.

“Care for Daolyn,” he said. “Tell her I’m coming back with Syre Zezili.”