“Yes,” agreed Jutre.
* * *
Once Oppuk and the Dano were gone, Aille allowed his posture to reflect justified-wrath. The posture deepened as he contemplated the broken bau on the ground.
“That was dangerous,” said Yaut, though his tone had no reproof in it. “He could have demanded your life.”
“He would need a better reason than this,” Aille said softly. “I would have refused, and, if Oppuk was foolish enough to take the matter before the Naukra, they would sustain me. If the Naukra hesitated, the Bond of Ebezon would intervene on their own. Breaking a bau!”
He made a small gesture toward the pieces on the ground. Oppuk’s action had been a gross offense against custom. The giving of bau was a kochan matter. Oppuk could have refused the carving, to be sure. But he had no right to question Pluthrak’s giving of the bau, much less proffer outright insult. It was precisely to keep kochan antagonism from crossing such bounds that the Naukra existed in the first place—and had its fearsome military arm, the Bond of Ebezon, to enforce their authority. A military arm that had wide powers, moreover, which it was not reluctant to use. More than once in the past, the Bond’s Harriers had enforced custom directly, not even waiting for the Naukra to assemble and deliberate. And this was a clearcut issue, not ambiguous in the least. Narvo’s intemperate arrogance was obvious to all. Not even Dano would try to argue the matter.
Aille gazed toward the town. Even in the rain, the glow of burning Salem could be easily seen. “If I am to be of use, truly of use, then I must do as I feel necessary and deal with the consequences of my actions. Whatever else, I am Pluthrak—and Pluthrak is not to be bullied by Narvo. Certainly not such a specimen as Oppuk. It is a mystery to me, now that I have assessed the Governor, why Narvo ever sent him here.”
Kralik bent to pick up the pieces of the bau. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Aille stared at him. The jinau officer had done as Aille had directed, but Aille had given him no reasons. The human would have only the vaguest sense, if any at all, of what was involved.
“There is no reason to be,” Aille said. “You have done nothing dishonorable, Ed Kralik. The dishonor was Oppuk’s. I will have another bau made for you, one whose carvings reflect your victory at Salem. The Governor had no right to break this one. This is an old posture between Pluthrak and Narvo, begun long before any of us here today were born. In the end, it will play itself out.”
“Yes, sir,” Kralik said, but Aille could read worry in the human’s eyes.
Worry was appropriate, he thought. Oppuk was quite right, of course. Aille had defied him by subtly reinterpreting his orders, but he could not have acted otherwise. The needs of vithrik even more than the logic of advance-by-oscillation guided him here. The governing of humans required a light hand, if association was to proceed. Exactly how and in what way that was to be done, remained unclear. But to continue on in the old way would be against vithrik. Pluthrak’s understanding of vithrik, if not Narvo’s.
Looking back over the events that had occurred recently, much was now clear to Aille. Whether or not to hunt the whale was a minor issue; in and of itself, simply a flap about local custom and religious practice. Even humans could not agree about its propriety. Oppuk could easily have sought a different activity, or simply changed the locale, avoiding the entire confrontation altogether.
Instead the Governor had let himself be drawn into the squabble and made them all a target in the process. Punishing this entire town had only compounded the mistake. It would have been enough to demand the surrender of the rebels who had taken refuge there.
Instead, now they had a number of Jao casualties in addition to the human loss of life. Kralik was right—this had been a well-laid ambush. Those who prepared it had obviously done so with Oppuk’s not-sane temper in mind, knowing that he would strike here. Had Aille not withdrawn the Jao troops and let the jinau handle the matter, the Jao casualties would have been much worse. In the end, of course, they would have crushed the enemy—but Aille was quite sure the Resistance would have used their ferocious battle and the casualties they inflicted to rally further support among the native populace.