Paks thought about that. "But Canna—"

"Was your friend, and you mourn her. That is good. But as a yeoman of Gird, she risked and gave her life to save others—or that's what it sounds like you're saying."

"It's true."

"Now—about those innocents who are not Girdsmen, and are killed. This is why the Fellowship of Gird trains every yeoman—to prevent just that. But in many lands we are few—our influence is small—"

"But why can't Gird do it himself, if he's—"

"Paksenarrion, you might as well ask why it snows in winter. I did not make the world, or men, or elves, or the sounds the harp makes when you pluck the strings. All I know is that the High Lord expects all his creatures to choose good over evil; he has given us heroes to show the way, and Gird is one of these. Gird has shown men how to fight and work for justice in the face of oppression: that was his genius. It is not the only genius, nor dare I say it is the best; only the High Lord can judge rightly. But as followers of Gird, we try to act as he did. Sometimes we receive additional aid. Why it comes one time and not another, or why it comes to one Marshal and not another, I cannot say. Nor can you. Nor will you ever know, Paksenarrion, until you pass beyond death to the High Lord's table, if that happens." He gave her a long look. "And I think that you blame Gird because you are still blaming yourself for these deaths. Is that not so?"

Paks looked down. She could still hear Canna's voice, that last yell: "Run, Paks!" And she had run. She could still hear the others. "It might be," she said finally.

"Paksenarrion, Gird does not kill the helpless—someone alive, with a sword or club or stone, does that. If you still think, after the time you have been here, that the followers of Gird act that way—"

"No, sir!"

"—then you should leave at once. But if you see us trying to teach men and women how to live justly together, and defend their friends and families against the misuse of force, then consider if that is not your aim as well. Gird may ask your life, someday, but Gird will never ask you to betray a friend, or injure a helpless child. Consider the acts of your Girdish friend, and not her death, and ask yourself if these were good or bad."

"Good," said Paks at once. "Canna was always generous."

"And so you are rejecting Gird because he has not acted as you would—is that it?"

Paks had not thought that clearly about it. Put that way it seemed arrogant, to say the least. "Well—I suppose I was."

"You are not rejecting his principles, it seems, but the fact that they aren't carried out?"

Paks nodded slowly, still thinking.