"Even if you break it yourself."
"Even so. I'm not a saint, David."
"However much you try to be?"
Charles chuckled, a refreshingly and reassuringly human sound. "I only try to be because I know that whatever I do wrong will come back to haunt me tenfold. I don't like this situation any better than you do. If we took Tess away, we'd be quit of it."
David lifted his head off his hand. "Would you force her to go? Could you?"
"Of course I could. I control this planet, David. Would I?" He thought about it. The little room the priests had given him to sleep in mirrored him in many ways: simple, plain, without obvious character. But David knew that behind the plain whitewashed walls ran a complex network of filaments and power webs and ceramic tiling for strength and the Chapalii alone knew what other technological miracles and contrivances, hidden from sight but always present, there where they couldn't be seen. "I don't know. I haven't been forced to make that decision yet.''
"Goddess help them both when you do."
"Both?" asked Charles.
"Both Tess and Bakhtiian. And his people. And the countries in the path of his conquest. He's a madman. You could stop him."
"I could kill him physically. I could tell him, show him, the truth, which Tess believes would kill him spiritually. What's so strange about him, though? Earth has had such men in her past."
"Does that make it right? Knowing we could intervene?"
"I don't know. Is intervening right? Will it make any difference in the long run? Does this argument have anywhere to go except around in circles? He's better than most, David. He thinks, he's open-minded and curious, he cares about law and legal precedence, and I believe he cares enough about what Tess thinks of him that he'll temper brutality with mercy.''
"Like that man he executed for rape? He did it himself, and he didn't look one whit remorseful about the act to me."
"Who knows? Perhaps killing him on the spot like that was a merciful punishment, compared to what he might have received."
"Without a trial?" David demanded.
"He had a confession. But I can't help thinking about the actor. Three of them alone in hostile territory."
"And horse-stealers, too. That must be punishable by death, under nomad law."
"Do you think their deaths will be easy, or quick?" Charles asked.
"Don't forget, the actor has a weapon with him-one of our weapons. And other equipment. That gives him an advantage."
' 'And it breaks the interdiction in exactly the way I did not want it broken," Charles added.
"In fact, it might well be easier if the poor boy did die, and his companions with him."
"It might well. But then there'd be all that equipment out there to be recovered. Either way…" Charles shrugged.
David felt suddenly heartened. He chuckled. "You know, Charles, I don't envy you. I'm perfectly happy to be sitting here, and you sitting there."
Charles's pale blue gaze met David's brown one. His lips quirked up. "As well you might be. Now, I'm going to get some sleep."
David realized that that was as close to a confession of the burdens weighing on him as Charles was ever likely to give him, or to give anyone. Perhaps Charles could no longer afford to be vulnerable. Perhaps Charles regretted what he had lost but knew well enough that the loss was permanent, that there was nothing of his old self that could be recovered, even if he wanted to.
"Yes," said David on a sigh. "That's a good idea." He stood up and left Charles to his solitary state. Back in his own tiny room, he managed to nap on the hard bed for the few hours until dawn. He woke when the first light bled through the window, and he rose and dressed quickly and hurried downstairs to the eating hall in order to make it in time for breakfast. Maggie was there, although Charles wasn't. She signaled with one hand-"all okay, going as planned." That meant that the riders ought to come in mid-morning, escorting their "party from the coast." What would the jaran make of this Chapaliian visitation? Mother Avdotya had mentioned the khepelli priests who had visited four summers past. Their stay had been short and uneventful with a single exception: they had left with one fewer member of their party than they had come with. This mystery had never been solved, nor had any remains been found of the missing priest. The jaran knew of blood sacrifices, both human and animal, but as far as David could tell, they did not indulge in them except under the most pressing need. He had asked Nadine about it, but she seemed to think such an act shameful, although he could not tell whether that response came from her jaran upbringing or her Jedan education.
What would they think of a Chapalii coming in with Soerensen's escort? With his blessing? Under his authority? Nadine would be sure to be suspicious, and she would give a full report to her uncle. David did not for one instant doubt her loyalty to Bakhtiian, or doubt that she put her loyalty to him and to her people above all else, however much she did not follow their customs in other ways.
Well, it was hopeless. As Charles had said, the argument could run around in a circle and never get anywhere. He saw Nadine and went to sit beside her. She greeted him with a smile and he set to work on the food while discussing with her his plans for a survey of the north front.
"But tell me, David," she said after he had told her of his plans, "I see how you can use this method to measure accurately the dimensions of the shrine. Is there a way to measure greater distances, using the same methods? I can draw out a map with rough accuracy-Josef Raevsky taught me how to do that, and I learned more about maps at the university in Jeds, but still, there must be more accurate methods. Mostly, the jaran measure distances by how long it takes a rider, or a wagon, to get from one place to another. But that's not a good measure. How fast is the rider? Is it a jahar that's foraging as it goes? Is it a wagon train? Is it a messenger, who changes horses frequently and so can ride as far in one day as wagons cover in ten?''
"I'll show you some more about that today," replied David. "If you have two angles and one side, you can calculate the rest of the triangle. That's why I use a staff that's a set length; in my case two meters."
"Yes, I know about triangles. They're one of the gods' mysteries."
David chuckled. "Yes, there is a certain magic to them. Now, look." He took his knife and held it point down, perpendicular to the table. "If you know the height of your measuring staff-this knife-and you know the angle-"
"But I understand that," said Nadine impatiently. "I helped you survey the grounds of the shrine. But what about really long distances? Do you have to measure each stretch of ground you ride over? Add them together, perhaps? How can you reckon distances off to each side, as well? And bring them all together to make an accurate map?"
You put satellites into orbit. You use aerial photography. You use computer-driven navigational instruments and beacons and… "At sea you use a sextant and the altitudes of celestial bodies," said David instead. "On land maybe you don't really need a truly accurate map, because you can use landmarks to guide your travels."
"Yes, but what if you want one?" Nadine insisted. That was the trouble with her; she wasn't content with what just worked.