The Eagle And The Nightingales

Be sensible. She said nothing about a lover. And why would she meet a lover in a Church building?

He followed her, noting with relief that it was much cooler inside the building than it was in the street. She seized his hand as they entered the sanctuary itself, gestured that he should be silent, and pulled him into a secluded nook at the rear of the sanctuary. They stood beneath the statue of a kind-faced, grieving man, out of the way, where his wings would be lost among the shadows.

The Chapel was relatively full for a mid-afternoon service, and the first thing that T'fyrr noticed was that not all of the people here were human. There were at least two Mintaks, and he noted a Felis, a Caniden, an entire family of Caprins_heads too oddly shaped to ever pass as human poked up among the caps, hoods and uncovered hair of the human attendees.

Nor did the humans seem to care!

He quickly turned his attention to the Priest presiding from the pulpit_for the Priest of such a congregation must be as remarkable as the congregation itself.

He was a middle-aged man, if T'fyrr was any judge. The hair of his head had thick strands of grey in it, and the hair of his beard boasted the same. He was neither short nor tall, and his build was not particularly memorable. His square face had the same kindly look to it as that of the statue they sheltered under, and his voice, though soft, was powerful, with pleasant resonances.

But it was his words that caught and held T'fyrr, just as they held everyone else here.

Perhaps not the words themselves, for it was evident that the Priest was no writer of superb speeches as Bishop Padrik had been. But the content of the sermon was something that T'fyrr had never expected to hear from the lips of a human Priest.

For this Priest, standing before humans, in a Chapel built by humans, was preaching the brotherhood of all beings, and citing examples of the 'humanity' of nonhumans to prove his point.

T'fyrr's beak gaped open again, and not because he was overheated.

The more the Priest spoke, the more confused T'fyrr became. Bishop Padrik had used his Church's Holy Book to prove that any creature not wearing human form was evil. This Priest used the same Book_almost the same words!_to prove the very opposite.

He was sincere; T'fyrr could not doubt it. He was devout; there was no doubt of that, either. But he was saying, and clearly believed, the very opposite of what the High Bishop of Gradford swore was true.

How could this be?

He was still gaping in surprise when the Priest finished the service, and the congregation happily filed out, leaving the Chapel empty but for the Priest himself and the two of them. The Priest turned to the altar, putting away the implements of the service and cleaning it for the next service. Tanager remained where she was, and T'fyrr stayed with her.

'You can come out, now, Tanager,' said the Priest over his shoulder as he folded and put away a spotless white altarcloth. 'And your friend, too. I'm glad you came.'

Tanager laughed_her laugh had a different sound than Nightingale's laugh; it was lighter, and somehow seemed to belong to a younger person. T'fyrr could only marvel at her ability to assume or discard a persona with a change of the costume.

'I persuaded my friend to come here to meet you, but he didn't know he was coming to a Church service, Father Ruthvere,' she said banteringly. 'I haven't had a chance to ask him if he was bored or not.'

The Priest put the last of the implements away and turned, stepping off the dais and descending into the main body of the Chapel. 'I hope he wasn't, my dear child,' Father Ruthvere said, chuckling, 'but I make no claims for my ability as a speaker. I never won any prizes in rhetoric.'

As he moved forward, so did they; and as T'fyrr came out of the shadows, Father Ruthvere's eyes widened and then narrowed with speculation.

'There can't be more than one bird-man in this city,' he began with hesitation in his voice. 'But I have to wonder what this gentleman is doing here, rather than on the Palace grounds.'

T'fyrr glanced down at Tanager, who nodded encouragingly.

'I am the only Haspur in all of this kingdom that I know of, sir,' he replied gravely. 'I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Father Ruthvere. I can assure you, you did not bore me.'

'Coming from the High King's newly appointed Personal Musician, that is quite more praise than I deserve,' Father Ruthvere responded just as gravely. 'I hope you know that I meant every word, and I am not the only Priest in this city who feels this way.' He held out his hand, and T'fyrr took it awkwardly. 'I should be very pleased if you