A ten-year-old snapped his gaze around to her. "Wh-what, sister?"

"Thou didst whisper to Harl!"

"Nay, sister! I-1 but glanced at him!"

"And he glanced at thee, and thou didst set up a whole dialogue of grimaces and leers! 'Tis as bad as whispering, or worse, since thou dost seek to make others laugh and ignore the Word of God! Thou shalt stay when all others have gone, and scrub the boards of the schoolhouse floor!" She turned back to the blackboard, visibly striving to calm herself. "Now-let us discuss the ways of charity." She took the rod and pointed to the larger circle. "Let this stand for God the Father." She drew rays coming out of the larger circle, making it look like the sun. "And this is the Holy Ghost, which is the emanation of God's feelings toward us."

She whirled around. "Theobald! Why dost thou frown?" The boy's look of puzzlement was instantly replaced by one of fright. "Why ... Why, sister-is not the Holy Ghost a separate being from God?"

"Nay, silly fool! How could God's Spirit be separate from God? The Holy Ghost is to God as my love for thee is to me!" The boy couldn't quite prevent the skeptical look that crossed his features, but you could tell he was trying, so the nun ignored it and turned back to the blackboard.

Magnus nodded; these people's beliefs were like their church service-whatever kind of Christians they thought they were, they weren't Catholic. Roman Catholics believed that the Holy Trinity consisted of one God in three separate persons, as separate from one another as the leaves of a shamrock, but even more unified than the plant as a whole. This nun, though, was saying that the Holy Spirit didn't really exist. And her next words made it even more clear.

"This Holy Ghost, as God's yearning for a son, did embrace the Virgin Mary, and enkindled in her the babe, born at Christmas, and named Jesus, the Christ. He was therefore the son of God-but do not commit the error of mistaking Jesus for God! He was a man, and only a man-a saint, and more than a saint; a perfect man, to be sure-but only a man withal."

The children sat attentively, as though they were listening closely-but several eyes had glazed over. They had heard this before.

So had Magnus-it was called the Arian heresy.

"So God filled Mary with His Love, which we call the Holy Spirit," the nun summarized, "and Christ was born.... Hermann! Keep thine hands to thyself!" She descended on the luckless boy, whose hand had twitched toward the pigtails of the girl in front of him, and whacked him sharply over the knuckles with her ruler. As he squalled, she turned toward the elder nun with a sigh. "What ails these children this day? Have we been lax in our vigilance? Hath the Devil crept amongst them whiles we taught? Wherefore? And by what means?"

"Not the Devil." The older nun gazed across the heads of the class toward Magnus. "Yet there is a stranger present, who doth watch. 'Tis thy presence, young man, that doth encourage these children to disruption!"

Magnus turned very thoughtful. She might be right, he realized, though not for the reason she thought.

"I must ask thee to leave," the elder nun said, striding toward Magnus. "An thou dost wish to discuss the Faith with us, we will welcome thy questions-but after the school day is done." Her steps faltered as she came closer to Magnus, for he had turned a hard, brittle smile on her, and his eyes were glittering in a way that caused her to come to a halt ten feet from him. As soon as she had stopped, he bowed politely. "I would not be a burden on thee, Sister. Assuredly, I shall leave." He turned and stepped into the forest-with relief, if the truth must be known; even gladly.

After a dozen steps through the underbrush, Magnus turned to the side and broke through to the track. He looked back toward the schoolroom, expecting to see Rod standing there shadowing him. Instead, he saw only the class and the teachers. He frowned, puzzled, then glanced back into the forest-but no, his father wasn't following him there, either. Well ... Maybe he had trusted the young man not to get himself into trouble. Magnus smiled, and turned back toward the village.

He found his father in the village common, handing a skillet back to a housewife and chatting. Magnus remembered that Rod had disguised himself as a tinker before, and smiled at the old-well, older-man's slyness. He waited till the conversation was done and Rod had gathered up his tools and was turning away, then stepped up to him. "Ingratiating thyself with the housewives again, my father?"

"Huh?" Rod looked up, startled, then smiled. "Oh. Yes, son. How else am I going to learn anything? How about you?"

"I took a more direct path to the knowledge I sought. I went to school."

"Yeah, I followed you and watched for about five minutes. That was about all I could take."

Magnus nodded. "Thou hast ever had an aversion to child brutality."

"Yes, except when I lose my temper." A shadow darkened Rod's face, and the glance he gave Magnus was furtive. "I'm not too keen on psychological abuse, either."

"I ken the feeling, my father. For myself, though, I had a bit more trouble with the hypocrisy."

"Well, yes, there is that." Rod fell into step beside his son, noting that Magnus had changed direction to accompany him. "But I'm old and jaded, Magnus. I almost expect hypocrisy, these days."

Magnus frowned. "I would not say there is any great deal of it in yourself, or Mother-or the Elven King, Brom O'Berin, or Their Majesties."

Rod shrugged. "All that means is that you associate with good people-who keep their hypocrisy down to a minimum. But some of it is unavoidable, son. Anyone who believes in two conflicting values is going to be a hypocrite, and there's nothing he can do about it. You caught me in it once-remember?"

Magnus lifted his head, gazing off into space, searching his memory. After a few minutes, he nodded. "I noted that thou didst denounce those who try to force their own system of government onto others, the whiles thou dost labor lifelong to woo the folk of Gramarye toward democracy."

Rod nodded. "And I could only reply that I'm wooing, but they're forcing. Of course, I'm not sure that distinction would hold up terribly well."

Magnus quirked a smile. "Less well than it might, when I consider that thou hast spoke of self-determination with religious fervor."

"Right. But I'm just helping them determine the form that I know they'll choose anyway-aren't I?"

"Yet it would seem that thine enemies, the future anarchists, know that the people, left to themselves, would choose to carve up Gramarye into separate, warring villages. Thine other enemies, the future totalitarians, know that they would choose a dictatorship."

"Not quite. They know those are the forms of government they could bludegeon the people into accepting."

"Whereas thou dost know the people of Gramarye truly choose democracy?"

Rod lifted an eyebrow. "Do I detect a note of skepticism there?"

Magnus broke into a grin. "Thou hast it; I have accused thee of hypocrisy."

"Rightly, too. But if I honestly believe in selfdetermination, but also honestly believe democracy is best for them, what choice do I have?"

"Why, only to manipulate them into growing a democracy of their own." Magnus nodded. "Yes, I see-the hypocrisy is unavoidable. For if thou wert to withold thine action for democracy in the name of self-determination, thou wouldst be equally a hypocrite, wouldst thou not? Yes, I see." He turned to Rod with a sudden frown. "What hypocrisy do I enact, then?"

Rod shook his head. "Too soon to say. Whatever your life's work is, I can't tell-you may not even have begun it yet. And you haven't exactly been outspoken about your personal beliefs."

"I would not kindle anger betwixt us," Magnus murmured.