"Self-determination. Did you teach him that, Fess?"

"Yes, Rod, as per your instructions."

"Which I learned from your curriculum in the first place." Rod managed a sardonic smile. "Kind of ironic, when you think about it-a bunch of aristocrats, all diehard liberals, and all totally convinced the people should rule themselves. Maybe that's because there weren't any `people.' "

"Aye-thou hast said thy home, Maxima, had naught but aristocrats."

"Well, that's what they called themselves. After five hundred years, I suppose they had the right to-but when there's nobody there to rule, the term kind of loses meaning."

"They were, at least, noble."

"I'd have to agree," Rod said judiciously, "or that their ancestors were. Of course, they chose their own form of government-and it was, at least functionally, a democracy."

"The House of Lords, ruling none but lords?" Magnus smiled, without mirth. "Yet an thy folk could choose their own form of government, wherefore ought not these peasants?"

"They do have that right. Enforcing it is another matter. And remember-their right of self-determination is limited by their interaction with their neighbors. If the next village chooses a different form of government, and the two systems clash and disrupt one another, both have to remember the other's rights."

"They would have to agree together." Magnus frowned. "And where we must think of one village, we must think of a dozen."

Rod nodded. "Or a hundred, or a thousand-or the whole Isle of Gramarye."

"Why not say `the whole of the Terran Sphere'?"

"Because they don't have much contact with the other planets yet-and what little they do have, they're not aware of."

"But when the day comes that they do, what then?"

"By then, if all goes as I'm planning, they should have a functioning democracy, in place and well oiled by at least a hundred years of experience. They'll be ready to become part of the larger democracy that governs the Terran Sphere."

"The Decentralized Democratic Tribunal." Magnus frowned. "Thy life's work-preparing them for their place in it. For my countrymen could wreak havoc untold on the rest of the human worlds, could they not?"

"Oh, yes," Rod said softly. "The only collection of espers in the known galaxy? You bet they could."

"And who art thou to tell us we must not gain dominion where we may?"

Rod turned to stare at his son. How had Magnus worked it around so he and his father were on opposite sides? "I'm the one who seems to remember the concept of individual rights. Or do you think Gramarye's right to rule should wipe out the rest of humanity's right to self-determination?"

"Nay." Magnus frowned, wondering in his turn how his father had turned the argument back on him. "Yet by seeking to foster democracy among us, thou dost impose thy will. The folk of Gramarye should be free to choose what form of government they may."

"True. Do you honestly think those people back there would really choose anything other than an effective democracy?"

Magnus turned thoughtful, running over possibilities. "It may be," he said slowly. "The history books Fess gave me to read told of a case or two of folk wishing to be ruled by another."

"Biblical Israel shifting from judges to monarchy." Rod nodded. "Any of the other cases, though, are just stagedressing for a power grab-like the Roman proletariat offering a crown to Julius Caesar."

"Naetheless, thou wilt not deny 'tis possible!"

Rod shrugged. "Anything is possible. That doesn't mean it's good. I'm just naturally wary of any form of government that doesn't guarantee the basic human rights."

"I could subscribe to that," Magnus said slowly.

"Then you'll find you're supporting a democracy of some kind, son, though it may work differently from the ones you've studied. Asserting the rights of the individual always leads to self-government of one sort or another."

"I can think of other forms."

"Yeah, but will they really be democracies hiding under another name? If they're not, are they really enforcing human rights, or just claiming to? Either way, you also have to ask how they're affecting their neighbors. You may have a local tyranny that's really part of a larger democracy, and it's the bigger government that's really guaranteeing those rights."

Magnus thought that over, frowning. "Dost thou say no government, no society, can exist in isolation from others?"

"Well, it's possible," Rod admitted, "though interstellar travel and FTL communication have made sure that even the separate planets are affecting each other all the time, and very deeply, though that isn't always apparent. If it can happen anywhere, son, it'll be right here in the Forest Gellorn." Magnus looked up in surprise. "Why, how dost thou mean? Even that little village has a lord!"

"Yes, but it was right near the edge of the wildwood. As we go deeper in, I think we'll find villages set up by escaped peasants, outlaws, malcontents-or even just people who became lost. There'll be some traffic between them, but not a lot--this is a very big, thick forest, with lots of wild animals. . . ."

"Some of which may be quite strange," Magnus grunted, "due to witch-moss, and the projective esper who knoweth not what she-or he-may be."

"Or what effects he's having. But isn't that true of all of us? Anyway," Rod rushed on, "if there's any place on Gramarye where a pocket society can exist free of outside government, it'll be here. Shall we take a little detour to see what kinds of government we may find?"

"This whole excursion is a detour," Magnus pointed out, "and one government that the people welcome, but is not a democracy, will be enough to prove my case."

"So my holiday from marital obligations and daily routine becomes a quest. Why not? But for now, I'm tired, and we're far enough from that village so that I don't think they'll find us. Let's pitch camp, son. I could use some sleep."

They slept the clock around, woke at dawn, and broke their fasts. Feeling largely restored, they broke camp, drowned and buried the fire, and rode off into the morning. A few hours later they heard a bell tolling.

Rod frowned. "Kind of jarring, considering what a bright and peaceful morning it is."

"And somewhat late for Mass," Magnus agreed. "Of course, 'tis naught of our affair."

"Exactly. So we're going to go look, right?"

"Certes." Magnus smiled. "For what else have we come?" They rode down the path that led through the trees, since it seemed to be going in the right direction. Sure enough, the bell's tones became louder-then the forest ended abruptly, and they came out into a large cleared area, a square mile or so of land so flat they could see the thin dark line of trees on the other side. Strips of farmland lay all about in a crazyquilt pattern, divided by hedges. People had hewn themselves farms out of the midst of the forest.

A hill rose at the eastern side of the clearing, and a village of wattle-and-daub houses clustered around it. Up near the top stood a fieldstone church-square and blocky, but with a recognizable steeple-and all about it, the grass was dotted with tombstones.

But the procession that threaded its way through the fields wasn't winding up toward that churchyard-it was coming toward Rod and Magnus, and a newly dug grave a hundred yards off to their left. The mourners didn't seem to see them-for mourners they were, peasant folk dressed in dark clothing, the first six bearing a coffin on their shoulders, following a man in a black robe, wearing a bishop's mitre-a high, bulbous, pointed hat-and carrying a crozier, the ornate shepherd's crook. But he wasn't wearing a priest's chasuble, or even a cassock--only a long robe, like a memory of a baron's leisure clothing. Certainly the huge cross that adorned a priest's chasuble was missing.