The man was a kinsman of Suleiman's, and he was dull. He was so dull, and he had been talking for so long, that Xena thought she might fall asleep--or throw the chakram into his throat. Either way, he was immensely dull, and he would not shut up.

Xena shifted uncomfortably in her seat, carefully so as not to wake Eve who was sleeping happily in her carrysack against her mother's back. The child seemed able to sleep anywhere, at any time, at a moment's notice. Xena envied her thoroughly. She fidgeted again--at least Nebula had allowed her to sit on a bench by the throne rather than stand beside it as was customary--and tried to look interested. She knew it wasn't working. This wasn't a debate, it was a monologue.

Suleiman's kinsman changed the subject of his drone from fishing rights to road conditions between two obscure villages without missing a beat or bothering to provide even the slightest justification for the change in subject. He'd done this several times in the past couple of hours, and each time he somehow managed to change to a topic even more boring than the previous one. That's it, Xena thought, chakram time, and she was almost serious, but then Nebula held up her right hand in a ritual gesture. "Enough," she said and the man fell obediently silent in the middle of a sentence. "We must leave now to prepare for Our audience," she said. "Court is dismissed."

The men rose to their feet and shuffled out of the Great Hall, mumbling among themselves. Xena idly wondered if any of them would fall on the orator and thrash him soundly, because that's what sensible people would do. But the Sumerian nobility was not composed of sensible people, apparently, as the man left the hall with all the others without incident. Nebula dismissed the other guards with an imperious wave, and did not speak until she and Xena were alone. "That did not please Us," she said in the imperious tone, not bothering to hide the half-mockery she always underlied it with. "If it was not for the fact that the gentleman was a member of Our friend's family, We would have told him to shut the fuck up hours ago."

"Just what the hell was that all about?" Xena asked.

"It's called a filibuster."

They both jumped at the voice, muffled as it was. Xena looked up into the spectators' gallery and saw Joxer leaning over the rail, looking down at them. "It's a technique where somebody just keeps talking in order to keep the opposition from saying anything else. They don't use it in Athens any more because it pisses the Assembly off so much that they'll cast an ostracism on anybody who tries it."

Xena swore to herself. How could she have missed anyone up there? Especially Joxer, to whom she was almost as attuned as she was to Gabrielle. She studied the gallery carefully. Yes, the dark heavy draperies were meant to muffle noise, but she still should have been aware of the movement. "Evie, honey," she muttered, "Mummy's getting soft."

"What?" Joxer leaned over the rail, dangerously far for a man of his lack of balance.

"For pity's sake," Xena snapped, irritated, "get down here where we can hear you." Joxer nodded obediently and backed off from his precarious position, disappearing into the darkness at the back of the gallery. It would probably take him two or three minutes of flailing around just to find an exit through the curtains, and then he had to make his way to the front staircase and into the hall. Xena suppressed another exasperated curse. She wanted to feed and change Eve and then go lie down, now, and the extra few minutes stretched before her like empty hours. It was amazing how annoying Joxer could still be when he wasn't even trying.

"Cast an ostracism on them," Nebula mused. "Pretty good idea. An ostracism, or maybe just a very large rock."

"I'm for the rock myself."

"I don't want to rule like that," Nebula said seriously. "That's exactly the kind of attitude I'm trying to change. I could easily go with tradition, just give the commands, expect them to be followed, and..." she snapped her fingers... "they would be."

"I remember when I could do that," Xena said and glared in the general direction of the staircase. In the old days she could pin Joxer to the wall at forty feet with one of those glares. He was getting way too full of himself these days.

Or had been, anyway. After what happened--Xena pulled her mind away from the subject once again, like a stupid young horse. The mind is a wild horse, Lao Ma had said, and you must treat it with patience and forbearance. She had to treat Joxer the same way. If she let herself be soft around him, he'd never get back on his own two feet. He had to face this and get over it himself. Warriors usually did. Usually.

Eve made a small complaining noise. "Don't talk back," Xena told her absently. No, the glare hadn't worked at all. Joxer came trotting up to her, trying to look respectfully submissive and failing miserably, so obviously pleased with himself that he'd put one over on her she was going to have to set him straight...later. Yes, he would get over it. Joxer wasn't very deep. "Okay," she said. "What did you hear?"

"Only the end of it," he admitted. "I went to give Gabrielle your message and I just got back."

"What did you think?" Nebula asked him. She sounded like she seriously wanted to know; Xena looked at her, surprised.

"Well, whatever it is you wanted to talk about, they didn't want to let you. That's what the filibuster is supposed to do, keep the opposition from getting a word in edgewise."

"It works," Xena said dryly.

"Which is why they banned it. Athenians don't like it when people won't let them talk."

"Neither do I," said Nebula.

"They're giving you a hard time is what it is."

"Trying to," Nebula said cheerfully. "But I never let 'em see me sweat. It drives them crazy."

"You could ban the filibuster. Or you could turn it against them, if you have someone to do it for you."

"How about you?"

"Me?"

"Him?" Xena said almost at the same time.

"It's a thought. I couldn't annoy them with any particular topic of a talk--but allowing a foreigner, and an ex-slave at that, to lecture them would thoroughly piss them off. As well as reiterating just exactly who's in charge here."

And just who was that, anyway? Xena unconsciously drummed her fingertips against the chakram at her side. She'd seen Nebula asking Joxer for input at the public audiences, but Nebula often asked Suleiman or Gabrielle or Xena herself the same kinds of questions. This was different--serious political matters, and not only asking Joxer for advice but involving him directly? Again things were happening right before her eyes without her realizing it, and she didn't like it. Not at all.

Eve began to fidget, mewling querulously. "Aw," said Joxer. "Is she all right?"

"Of course she's all right, Joxer, don't be ridiculous."

"She just usually doesn't fuss is all."

She didn't. Xena shifted the carrysack around off her shoulders and took Eve into her arms. The baby hiccuped and looked at her mother, her tiny brow furrowed as if she was worried over something. "She just needs to eat," Xena said.

"As do we all." Nebula clapped Joxer on the shoulder. "Come on, studmuffin, let's grab a bite before I have to get into that damned getup and go sit on the steps for three hours. Xena, do you want to come with us?"

"No. I'm going to take Eve back to my room and put her down for a little nap before the audience. Might take one myself."

"Okay. See you then." Nebula walked off with Joxer, and the two of them fell to talking animatedly about the Court almost instantly, Xena forgotten.

Xena watched them go. No, she didn't like this. Not at all. She cradled her daughter close to her chest, and Eve's tiny frown mimicked her own.