“It was, but I wanted to make sure,” Gar said. “Do you suppose ghosts would be willing to pass such a message from one to another over miles of land?”
“There would likely be many willing,” Ranulf’s voice said, “if for nothing but to pass the time—and of course, if the message had strong emotions toning it, they’d be all the more willing.”
“Exactly what are you trying to invent here?” Alea asked. “A ghost-to-ghost hookup,” Gar answered.
“It bothers me.” Blaize did look agitated. “This is too much manipulation of spirits; it seems more like the way most of the ghost leaders go about controlling the specters—by blackmail and bribery, not by the sort of persuasion my master Arnogle used.”
“We heard of Arnogle,” Ranulf said. “There were more spirits willing to help him than any other ghost leader, simply because his projects were exciting, which meant they were willing to protect him, too, so that the projects could go on.”
“Little good it did him!” Blaize said mournfully.
“Some mortals become so excited that they won’t listen to advice,” Ranulf sighed. “Remember that, young fellow. When you do make friends of a ghost, pay attention to what it tells you.”
“I shall,” Blaize said fervently. “But is binding phantoms to service as messengers a way of making friends?”
“I would not be binding them,” Gar objected, “only asking them to join in if it pleased them.”
“But so many ghosts all at once, all on one errand! Surely that is greedy!”
“Rather selfish of us, you mean?” Alea asked. “Well, I suppose it is, if the message were only for our benefit, but I know Gar well enough to say that he would have the good of all the serfs in mind.”
“Communications can be very important when you’re resisting a tyrant,” Gar agreed, “but we’re not simply saying that the ends justify the means.”
Blaize frowned. “What?”
“That it’s all right for us to hurt people or exploit them, as long as it’s going to end by making all the serfs happier, for instance,” Alea explained.
Mira leaned backward, eyeing Alea as if at the end of a long pole. “I would be very wary of such an idea!”
“Many people fall into it,” Gar said. “Alea and I try to resist it, though.”
Alea nodded. “But we don’t think there’s anything wrong with the means in this case. Any ghosts helping with Gar’s message chain would be doing so of their own free will—we’re not planning to threaten or blackmail anybody.”
“Neither living nor dead,” Gar agreed.
Blaize wondered why Mira was looking at him in so strange a way. “So you’re not trying to gain power and wealth for yourselves, and you’re not enslaving anybody or forcing them to work for you.”
Gar nodded.
“I can see no wickedness in that. I can’t say that of very many other magicians, though.”
“Are you planning to be like those other magicians?” Alea challenged.
“No!” Blaize declared. “Anything but that!”
“Well said.” Conn’s voice was approving. “If you ever gain power, boy, remember what you’ve said here.”
“If you don’t,” Ranulf’s voice promised, “we’ll remind you.” Blaize couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of the form their “reminding” could take. “I’ll remember!” Then his shoulders slumped. “But I’m not likely to gain much power. So much for my dreams of being a good master!”
“Perhaps it would be better to work to eliminate all masters,” Gar suggested.
“As though we could!” Alea scoffed. “You saw yourself how well that worked on Brigante! All they had done was change masters!”
“Well, yes,” Gar agreed, “but the Scarlet Company was certainly the mildest lord I’ve ever seen.”
“If it was, why were the people so frightened at the thought of going against its orders?”
“I don’t want people to be frightened of me,” Blaize said glumly.
Conn’s voice heaved a weary sigh. “If you have any power at all, lad, people will be afraid when they stop to think what you can do—and if you don’t have power, you can’t do good.”
“But I can’t do evil, either!”
“Which will it be, then?” Ranulf’s voice challenged. “Too weak to do any good, or keeping a close watch on yourself to make sure you don’t do any harm?”
Blaize lowered his gaze, scowling.
“You have to decide, lad,” Conn said. “You can’t do the one without doing the other.”
“Well—if I must I’ll choose to do good,” Blaize said, “and trust you to tell me if I’m doing harm.” Then he looked up, astounded. “What am I saying? I’m not likely to have the power to do either!”
“Oh, yes, you are,” Conn said, “for you’re a magician, albeit one who still has a lot to learn.”
“You’re a ghost leader,” Ranulf reminded him, “and you’ve won two ghosts most thoroughly to your side.”
“Won? No! It was Gar who won you over.”
“No, lad,” Conn’s voice said kindly. “It was your own agonizing about trying to make sure you used your power wisely and well.”
“If you really mean to help the serfs, though,” Ranulf said, “you might start paying attention to them. There are two crouching behind that yew, and three more watching from the rock pile against the cliff face.”
Surprised, Blaize started to turn toward the yew, but Alea said softly, “Don’t look.”
Blaize froze—and found himself staring at Mira, who had been turning to look at the rock pile, too. For a moment, all he could see was her face, her eyes …
Then Gar’s voice broke the spell. “You have to be careful if you try to do the head carpenter’s job.”
“Yes,” said Alea. “You might cut your thumb.”
Gar nodded. “So telling a man to do the master carpenter’s job is like asking a turtle to dinner.”
“Not a good idea,” Alea returned, “if they’re serving turtle soup.”
Blaize stared in consternation, then leaned over toward Mira and asked out of the corner of his mouth, “What are they talking about?”
“Riddles of the Way,” she answered, low-voiced. “We’ve both heard them go on like this, but they always explained them before.”
“You mean they’re actually trying to confuse the serfs?”
“Confuse them, or make them curious,” Mira answered. Blaize nodded slowly. “They’re succeeding. They’ve certainly confused me, and I’m curious as to what they mean.”
“Probably nothing,” Mira opined.
“The highest virtue is low as a valley,” Gar said.
“Yes,” Alea agreed, “and the purest seems to be soiled.”
“Vast virtue never seems to be enough,” Gar lamented. “The virtue of strength seems weak,” Alea said.
“When you get right down to it,” Gar sighed, “reality is simple, but it keeps seeming to change.”
“All virtues are gathered in the Way,” Alea answered.
“Of course,” Gar said, “since the Way includes everything that exists.”
“Including people,” Alea said. “The uncarved block of wood is best.”
“Yes,” Gar said, “but somebody cut it into a block.”
They went on and on. Eventually Blaize, confused by conundrums and bored by hearing what he’d heard before disguised as riddles, rose and went to chop some wood of his own. Mira apparently decided it was a good idea, for she came to her feet, went to fetch water, and set a kettle on to boil—without any turtles.
Finally, dazed and inspired, the serfs slipped away. Alea and Gar kept on until they were well out of sight; then Alea said, “I think we impressed them.”
Gar’s eyes lost focus for a moment. Then he smiled at her. “We did. They’ll be back tomorrow, even though they haven’t the faintest idea what we were talking about.”