Riverworld Turn #1: A Mysterious Awakening
Day 30
The new resurrectees awoke slowly, sluggishly. As they returned
to consciousness, they sat up, and looked around.
They found themselves in a quiet glade of bamboo, nestled against the
hills of the valley. Surrounded on all sides by bamboo, only the
unmistakable sound of running water oriented them toward the River, to
the west.
First to awaken was a tall black man who looked around, confused,
before assuming a watchful crouch at the edge of the glade. Taking up
a towel, he fashioned it into a short cape which he secured around his neck.
A tall, willowy woman with red-brown hair and grey eyes slowly sat
up. As her eyes focused, she quietly fastened towels are herself and stood
up to appraise her surroundings, moving with grace, and turning her
head to observe her fellow lazari.
A muscular man with a thickening crop of reddish-brown on top of his skull
and a thatch of matted, curly reddish hair on his chest, legs, and arms, was
next to regain consciousness. He stood up quickly, grabbed a towel, and,
turning his back to the others, formed it into a kilt around his waist.
The olive-skinned woman blinked her eyes slowly several times, and her
lips curved into a smile. She closed her eyes again and stretched out in
the sun of the Rivervalley for few moments, extending her arms and legs,
grasping the grass above her head. Then she shifted into a sitting position,
keeping only her buttocks and the soles of her feet in contact with the
ground. She locked her arms in a circle about her knees, her right hand
holding her left wrist, and watched the people and the terrain with
hooded eyes while her bare toes curled and burrowed in the dirt beneath her.
Humming preceded the motion of the lanky man, who sat up and quickly
covered himself in towels. After covering his groin, he wrapped a towel
along each arm and across his palms, leaving his fingers free. He continued
to hum while he dressed.
With a languid stretch, the woman with the skin the color of cafe au lait
awakened. She rose with a noticeable grace and fluidity of motion, and lightly
ran her hands along her body. She too looked over the others, with a
gaze both calculating and frank, causing the lanky man to blush.
The short young woman, perhaps 19 or 20, woke with a start, and
hastily fastened a towel around herself, seeking to cover as much of
her nakedness as possible. Her wideset, dark eyes took in the actions
of her elders, and studied the place with something akin to horror
beginning in them.
A nondescript man at the edge of the glade also rose, and covered himself
quietly with a towel. Saying nothing, his eyes moved from one member of the
group to another.
The last one to awaken, a slender, pale-skinned woman, seemed to wake
at the sound of the man humming. She opened her hazel eyes, large and
doe-like, to reveal a distant, haunted look. Turning on her left side,
she looked at the humming man and smiled. She remained lying down for
some minutes, until, running her hand across the carpet of
chestnut-brown stubble atop her head, her lips down-turned into a
disconcerted pout. Then she stood and formed a skirt from a white
towel, and a shawl from a thinner, gauzier one. The energy and
vitality of her movement belied the impression of fragility given off
by her thin, pale frame.
As the group arose and attired themselves, a babble of languages
poured chaotically from the glade. After much confusion, the willowy
woman raised her hands in a gesture that the others recognized as a
call for silence, and spoke, repeating her message slowly and
confidently in many tongues.
Florence: "Greetings. My name is Miss Nightingale. Does anyone here
speak English? Parlez-vous francais? Parlate italiano?
Spreche sie Deutsch?"
George: "Yes, oui, si, ja, Miss Nightingale. I can see that we at least
can converse. I'm George."
Acting as interpreter, Florence translated their introductions to one
another.
The red-haired man responded to the German greeting using a language
that sounded like a much older form of German. "Yes Nightingale.
I be Charles. Christian."
The lanky man looked up at the sound of English. "Glenn here. Is that
Miss Florence Nightingale?"
Florence: "Yes, sir."
Glenn: "Well, I'll be."
The coffee-colored woman, and the woman with the haunted eyes also
responded to the English greeting, and introduced themselves in both
English and French.
Josephine: "Josephine. I'll have to remember to thank whomever brought us
here for giving me back my old body."
Josephine stretched languidly, eyeing the men in the group. Charles returned
her glance with an appraising look and a small smile.
Maria: "Maria. Enchanted, I'm sure." She curtseyed, lowering her
haunted eyes.
Jeanne: "Jeanne" The young woman became suddenly silent.
Everyone seemed to understand the woman except for the black man
and the olive-skinned woman. Florence repeated her introduction in
Latin and Greek with no further results. The woman looked Florence in
the eye, shrugged slightly, and turned toward the River, but the man
put his hand to his chest and named himself "Shaka" with evident
pride. The others stepped forward one at a time and spoke their
names, Charles again repeating "Christian" after his, in a voice of
surprisingly high pitch for a man of his size. Josephine's
introduction included another luxurious stretch and a sly look at
Shaka's body.
George opened his arms to indicate the glade around them and spoke.
George: "I wonder if you have noticed anything unusual about our
resurrection?"
The others turned to him inquiringly.
George: "Do you see anything missing from our little glade?"
Josephine: "Grailstone! There's no grailstone here. But resurrections always
take place beside the grailstones."
George: "This one, it appears, did not, though from the sounds by the River,
there seems to be the usual grailstone near the River."
Shaka noticed George speaking, and the others becoming excited as he
pointed around the glade. He seemed to be indicating something missing
to them, and Shaka assumed he was pointing out the unusual lack of a
grailstone, which Shaka had noticed from the moment he awoke. It did
not bode well for the perceptions of these light-skinned ones, he thought.
Shaka could hear the sounds of people in the direction of the River, and knew
that a grailstone could be found there.
Watching the movements of George and the others, the olive-skinned
woman also divined the unusual absence of the grailstone.
Throughout the morning, Jeanne had been growing gradually more and
more agitated. Finally, she threw herself to the ground, prostrating
himself, and began crying out loudly in French.
Jeanne: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far
from helping me, from the words of my groaning?"
Josephine rushed to the young woman, and held her comfortingly,
murmuring in French.
Josephine: "It's all right, dear, it'll be all right."
Jeanne: "Oh my God, I cry by day but thou dost not answer."
Josephine: "Hush now, it'll be all right."
Jeanne spent an hour wailing under, hoarse and exhausted, she
sank into Josephine's arms.
As the morning wore on and noon approached, finding a grailstone
became an important priority. Charles volunteered to lead the group to
the River, and, with the help of Florence's interpretation and some
signs to Shaka and the woman with the olive-colored skin, who Maria
suggested might be a Gypsy, they made their way out of the glade and
down to the bank of the River. Arriving at the River, the
olive-skinned woman knelt, dipped her fingers into the water, and
dabbed water on her breasts and foreheard. Glenn turned away at the
sight; Shaka leered.
They surprised a peaceful group of Chinese men and women, who were
willing to allow them use of their grailstone, a mushroom-shaped stone
structure about five feet high and 50 feet in diameter. The party
inserted their grails into one of the 700 hollow indentations that
riddled the top of the mushroom, and waited for noon, when the
grailstones on each side of the seemingly endless mile-wide River
would erupt in blue flame and deliver their lunch.
While they waited, some drank from the River; Charles bathed in it,
swimming contentedly. As he emerged, Florence ask him if he would
join her for a short walk, and motioned to Shaka as well. While the
others guarded the grail, the three walked upRiver, returning
just as the grailstones erupted. Glenn exchanged some words in English
with Florence as the group retrieved their grails.
Glenn: "How was your walk, Miss Nightingale?"
Florence: "Quiet and pleasant"
Glenn: "What's up that way?"
Florence: "The next civilization upRiver looks rather forbidding, I'm
afraid. There's a high bamboo fence making a sort of
walled city."
The Chinese folk took their grails and returned to their huts,
evidently preferring to avoid association with the strangers. Opening
their grails, the group found that the food was Asian as well, but the
noodles, rice, pork, and soup in their little cups were familiar
enough to the lazari that no explanations of the cuisine were needed.
Each of the men and women also received a small cup of yellow wine,
ten cigarettes, a cigar, a marijuana stick, a small comb, a lipstick,
a roll of toilet paper, a bar of soap, a small rubbery cube, and a
metal device.
The cube was dreamgum, the strange substance that, when chewed, could
produce vile nightmares or ecstatic visions, violent rage or
insatiable lust or deep tranquility. Though no member of the group
could recall the events of their past life on the Riverworld, each had
vague recollections of the spree of violence and rapine that followed
the First Night when humanity was introduced to dreamgum.
The metal device was a fire-lighter. Sliding it open revealed a
white-hot filament.
The group fell to eating hungrily. Charles, the first to remove his
grail from the grailstone, ate noisily, spitting the bones from the
pork into the River, and concluding his meal with a loud belch, at
which Josephine chuckled. She sat eating the pork and rice, disdaining
the noodles and the soup. Glenn ate his sparingly, muttering to
himself. Florence held her cup of wine out to the olive-skinned woman,
who accepted it as if it were hers already and drank it slowly.
After the meal, Charles lit up a cigar and began smoking with great
relish. He incurred a baleful stare from Glenn, who moved to put as
much space between himself and the smoke as possible. The others saved
their tobacco and other grail-products, except for Florence, who
offered hers to the group, which had divided them among themselves in
short measure.
Returning to the glade, Shaka seated himself at the edge of the bamboo
clearing. Uprooting the bamboo near him, he began creating
weapons. From the largest of the bamboo stalks, Shaka fashioned a
heavy staff which he carried like a ceremonial scepter. As he began
shaping several into spears by filing their ends down against a flat
rock, a task requiring no little strength, Charles approached
cautiously, and gestured toward Shaka and his spears. Shaka, nodding
wordlessly, motioned for Charles to sit at his feet, and continued his
spear-making at a slower pace. Charles instead took a position at
Shaka's side, and he and Shaka looked into one another's eyes for a
long moment. Finally, Shaka shrugged and returned to his work.
Charles constructed two spears for himself by nightfall. At the other
side of the glade, George also worked at fashioning a bamboo spear and
staff. Josephine observed the men's work but didn't seem overly
interested.
Maria surveyed the terrain around the glade, and returned with wide
strips of bark that resembled that of an English oak. She silently
sat, and began trying to write on the bark with the lipstick from her
grail. Quickly becoming frustrated, she swore angrily.
Maria: "Damn, damn, damn!"
Shaka paused in his speak-making and broke off a smaller piece
of bamboo. With his fire-lighter, he charred the tip of the bamboo,
and presented it to Maria, whose eyes widened with
understanding. Making signs of gratitude, she climbed up a hill to the
east of the glade, and sat contentedly, writing on bark with the
charcoal tip. Now and then, she puffed on one of her marijuana sticks,
and her eyes filled with a look of excitement and anticipation.
As the day turned to evening, they returned to the River to refill
their grails again. George built a fire in the center of the
clearing, and the group gathered around it. Again, Florence served
as interpreter for the group, while Shaka and the olive-skinned woman
ate in silence.
Florence: "Perhaps we should get to know each other better? I'll
begin. My name is Florence Nightingale, and I was a nurse,
in England. I served during wartime and peacetime, trying
to improve nursing in my country, which was in a sorry
state of neglect. I was born in 1820 and died in 1910."
Glenn: "History records that you were successful, Miss Nightingale.
My name's Gould, Glenn Gould. I was born in Canada in 1932,
and died in 1982. I play the piano, so I know who Miss
Baker is."
Glenn muttered to Florence, "Though I can't say I think much of her stuff."
Josephine smiled at Glenn, pleased at the recognition.
Josephine: "Yes, my name is Josephine Baker. I'm an entertainer, a
dancer and chanteuse. I was born in St. Louis at the turn
of the century, but lived the end of my life in Paris
until 1975."
Charles: "I am finding modern language still confused. I am only
Charles, Christian and protection of Christians, of
Aachen. I am unknowing in your calendar."
George: "From your German, I'd say you lived between the 6th and 10th
century. I'm something of a historian. Died in 1945. And I
also had the pleasure of seeing Josephine perform, in Paris."
Maria: "I am an Englishwoman, and, as you have probably perceived, a
writer. I lived from 1797 to 1851. While you all seem very
pleasant, I would quite like to rejoin my husband."
Jeanne, shrugging her head, said nothing.
Josephine looked at Shaka and spoke alluringly.
Josephine: "I don't know if I'll ever get over the joy of waking up
with a young body."
Shaka's eyes, however, rested on the olive-skinned woman who sat
slightly apart from the others. He popped his cube of dreamgum into
his mouth and began chewing, watching her. Jeanne fixed her gaze on
the black man, and consumed her dreamgum as well.
As Shaka chewed the gum, a feeling of deep warmth suffused his
body. His vision seemed clearer, sharper. He felt an overwhelming
desire to communicate, to boast, to tell tales of his prowess, and
impress the olive-skinned woman. The disappointment of knowing that
communication was impossible affected him but little.
From the moment Jeanne put the gum in her mouth, her felt herself
transported back to the fire at Rouen, hearing the voice of her
God urging her to be brave even as she screamed and pled in agony,
calling for God to protect her, save her. She was rooted to spot, and
somehow knew that while she felt her face contort in pain and shriek
to heaven, the others could see nothing of her invisible torment.
The group around the fire continued their conversation.
---------------------------------------------------------------
As the group gathered around the fire, each thought back on the
events of the late afternoon.
* * * *
As the day wore on, the olive-skinned woman had risen from where she had
spent most of the day and began to stroll around the area. Walking
slowly she stretched her arms, and shook the kinks from her legs. She
came upon one of Shaka's spears, picked it up, and examined it
carefully.
George had approached, and, pointing to himself, said "George". He
repeated his motions and speech again, and the woman echoed "George",
and placed her fingertips momentarily on his forehead, as if in
blessing. He retreated, looking somewhat bemused.
Florence motioned to the olive-skinned woman once George left,
and after several minutes sitting in silence, the woman spoke to
Florence in a low, clear tone, her eyes on the western horizon.
George, still lingering nearby, overheard the conversation, and was
surprised to find that he understood it.
Woman: "You speak many languages."
Florence nodded.
Florence: "I am fortunate to be able to. And I see that you can speak
Latin, at which I am very pleased. I am Florence. What are
you called?"
The woman ignored the question for several minutes, during which
Florence waited patiently in silence. Finally, she raised her chin a
tad and spoke.
Cleopatra: "I am, Cleopatra VII, Thea Philopater, daughter of Re."
Florence nodded again.
Florence: "I am pleased to meet you. Perhaps we should rejoin the
others. I will respect your silence until you ask me
to tell them your name."
After a day of watching the river, gathering her thoughts, and sampling
the marijuana stick, Maria had climbed down from the hill, invigorated
and flushed. Her reddish eyes and cheeks displayed little crinkles as
she smiled.
Glenn had spent the afternoon attempting to duplicate Shaka's creation
of a writing implement. Cutting a few different lengths of bamboo, he
applied his firelighter to their tips and soon had a number of
serviceable charcoal "pencils". Seeing Maria return from the hill, he
addressed her in English.
Glenn: "Ma'am, might I ask where you got the bark? I'd like to do
some writing myself. Without a real instrument here, it's the
best I can do."
Maria: "There's English oak or something like it in those
foothills."
Glenn: "Thank you, Ma'am."
Maria: "Maria." She smiles.
Glenn: "Maria." He returns her smile.
After his discussion with Maria, Glenn strode off into hills and
returned with strips of bark. He spent the remainder of the afternoon
jotting on the bark with his bamboo, humming continuously.
* * * *
Darkness began to fall in the glade, and the group clustered together
in a circle around the fire as they arrived. Charles, Shaka, Florence,
and the olive-skinned woman took up positions on the north, south, east,
and west of the fire, and others filled in the open spaces between them.
Glenn walked up to George as he was striding toward the fire, and
tried to strike up a conversation.
Glenn: "I'm embarrassed to say, sir, that I don't recognize you,
though we seem to be from the same time period."
George: "Nor I you. What a pity."
Josephine strode up to the two, smiling broadly.
Josephine: "But George did recognize me, I'm happy to say. And I'd
love to know more about you, Glenn, since you obviously
share my tender feelings for song. Though I preferred the
contemporary music of my time."
She spoke more loudly in French.
Josephine approached the two men and joined them, smiling broadly.
Speaking French quietly at first, she soon raised her voice.
Josephine: "Ahhh yes.. The '20's! Those were days the likes of which
the world will never see again. Touring the continent,
swarms of adoring fans, ah yes... I remember those days
well."
She half smiled and looked down at her body,
Josephine: "Perhaps it is the form that guides the memories"
She smiled wistfully.
Finally, the whole group sat around the fire in the waxing darkness of
the Riverworld. The stars shone brightly and the glow of the firelight
lit up the faces of the assembled resurrectees.
Shaka chewed his dreamgum, looking at those around him. His eyes
closed slightly and he began to breathe more deeply. Holding his
spear in one hand, he walked to the center of the group now assembled,
and stood facing the beautiful olive-skinned woman on the west side of
the fire.
Raising his arms above his head, holding the spear high above him, he
gave a yell of surprising volume. He then began speaking and
motioning and dancing in a way unfamiliar to the others. Despite
his unintelligible language, the subject of his message was clear,
as the words "Shaka" and "Zulu" seemed to be in every breath.
As the others watched, Shaka performed a bizarre combination
biography, pantomime, and language lesson all wrapped into one. His
motions seemed to indicate that his language was called Bantu, or
Zulu.
During Shaka's oratory, Maria's eyes lit with fire. Listening
attentively, she scribbled on her bark with the charcoal pen. Every
now and then, she brought the tip to the fire to darken the "ink". She
looked fascinated and moved by the oration, and Shaka, noticing her
concentration, seemed to nod approvingly for a moment.
The others strove to follow his story, and managed to make sense of
some of it. It seemed to deal a great deal with warfare and
self-praise. As the story wound down, it became less violent, and more
regal. His voice took on another tone, as though he were describing
that there were monsters all around him, then suddenly he cried out
loudly, and fell to his knees. He held his stomach and shook a fist
angrily at some unseen participant in his mysterious tale. Then he
fell to the ground, weeping openly.
After a moment, he stood, and recited what sounded like a solemn poem,
then gestured at the fireside circle and the Rivervalley with a look
of puzzlement, as if to say "And then I awoke here."
At then end of Shaka's performance, Charles opened his Grail and took
out five cigarettes. Looking at Shaka, Charles bowed low, from the
waist. He then sank to one knee and gently placed the cigarettes on
the ground in front of the nobleman from the dark land. Bowing once
more, he returned to his place by the fire.
During Shaka's enactment, the olive-skinned woman sat motionless at
the edge of the fire's light, her features sometimes obscured by the
dance of the flames. As his tale unfolded, her face became more and
more devoid of emotion. Her whitening lips and the clenching of her
fists during the last seconds of the warrior's tale, however, belied
her apparent nonchalance.
The tale complete, Shaka walked over to the olive-skinned woman, and
began talking to her and making motions both unusually suggestive and
surprisingly not vulgar. Her eyes rose to meet his as he
approached. She slowly uncurled and rose to her feet. Holding out her
hand, she led him out of the firelight into the surrounding darkness.
The sounds from beyond the glade rose, at first quietly, and then more
loudly.
Anxious to distract himself and the others, Charles stood, and stepped
forward into the circle. He turned around and looked at all of his
companions. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his towel-cloth, and
moved to stand at the highest point beside the fire.
He looked at Florence, who nodded and began to translate his words
for the others.
Charles: "I am Charles of Aachen. I am a Christian. When I was back
home.. before I died.... I was the Ruler of the great
Frankish empire. From what I have been told, I was born
around 732 Anno Domini. My father, Pippin, was a great
leader and taught me well. Upon his ascent to Heaven, he
named my brother and I to guard the land. My brother died
of Fever some few years later, and the rule of the whole
land fell to me. I did my best."
George smiled quietly to himself.
Charles bowed his head briefly before continuing.
Charles: "Most of my life, I spent trying to unify the diverse lands
and tribes of what I learn you call central Europe. The
wars were numerous and constant, but I and my people
persevered. My court at Aachen became reknown for its
schools, and literacy and art. I myself tried to learn as
much as I could from scholars and thinkers I help to
assemble."
Charles looked around, and then spoke more softly.
Charles: "You all remind me of some of the people of my court."
He fell silent for a moment or two, then continued.
Charles: "With the help and guidance of God and Holy Church in Rome, I
spent my life bringing Christianity to heathens, glorifying
God and the Church, to bring law, order and enlightenment to
most of the lands of Europe.
Jeanne listened to the stories with a growing sense of bewilderment
apparent on her face. She seemed more interested in Charles' tale than
Shaka's, as she chewed slowly on her dreamgum.
Charles looked around at the people before him, bowed formally, and
sat down. Florence smiled, and, speaking to him, voiced the feelings
of the entire group.
Florence: "Sir Charles, I know not why this group has been brought
here together, but as we have found ourselves here, it
would seem prudent to devise shelter in an appropriate
place, and to discuss how we might protect ourselves. Who
knows what dangers this life holds? I am afraid I have
little memory of my previous life here, and know not what
to expect in the days to come. It would benefit us to work
together in common purpose."
Glenn nodded, as if one of his private thoughts had become public.
Glenn: "So you as well have no memory of your last resurrection."
Maria looked at Glenn searchingly.
Maria: "I am searching for my husband, Percy, who died some years
before I. I am sure he is searching for me as well, for we
agreed that we would try to contact one another in the
afterlife. On earth, we would smoke opium before we wrote, and
I'd hoped to induce a similar trance with the marijuana so I
might contact his soul or summon his spectre. I have not tried
the dreamgum yet -- it appears to have strong powers."
Maria: "Your humming was the first thing I heard when I awoke. Music
too has spirit powers, and a musician might be more in touch
with them than I. What do you make of this predicament in
which we all partake? O have been trying to discern if all
this is merely a dream or if we really exist in the
flesh. Surely our earthly bodies have decomposed, eaten by
maggots, and our spirits have traveled to some ethereal
plane."
Glenn: "Why are we here? That's the question. After all, I somehow
doubt this has happened by chance. Not if it's so seldom none
of us have heard of it. Now, we have three differences, at
least, that I can see. First, we are a mixture, rather than
some orderly chord of humanity that normally ends up together.
Second, we needed to move from where we were, in order to find
sustenance. We needed to move, rather than remain in one
place. Thus, we have a combination: Different themes, and a
rhythm to drive them. Third, none of us are nobodies. By
rights, at least one of us should be. Thus, when there is not
one, not two, but three such strands, it's clear that this
isn't chance, but deliberation. Somewhere there's a fourth
voice to this fugue, that someone else is playing. The only
question is what?"
Suddenly, Jeanne stiffened, her eyes flying wide open. Scrambling back
from the campfire, she stumbled to her feet, and began tearing at the
towels which clothed her. With a piercing shriek she bolted from the
circle of firelight, and ran toward the River, plunging headlong into
it with a loud splash.
Almost instantly, Josephine had leapt to her feet, and chased after
the young French woman. A second splash signaled her dive into the
water after Jeanne.
Florence, too, followed Jeanne to the River, and stood on the bank,
watching Josephine anxiously.
Glenn: "Well, there's no use all of use going. Josephine is a fine
swimmer, and Miss Nightingale is a nurse."
George, Charles, and Maria nodded, and sat silently around the fire for
a while, waiting for the women to return. The rustling of the bamboo
was understandably attributed to Shaka and the olive-skinned woman,
and so the group was surprised to find themselves surrounded by men
with flint-tipped spears.
The strangers spoke in an unrecognizable language, but their
intentions were clear. While the other members of the group stood up,
watched warily by the intruders, George sprang from his fireside
position, brandishing a burning bamboo rod that he drew from the
center of the fire. Yelling incoherently, he swung his weapon toward
the nearest assailant, and knocked the man down. He had turned to face
the man next to him when an arrow pierced his throat. Maria gasped as
the bowmen, hidden in the bamboo, came into view, and, looking at
Glenn and Charles, trained their bows on Maria. Grimacing, the three
allowed themselves to be disarmed and have their hands bound behind
them with towels. The men led them through the inland darkness
upstream beyond the lands of their peaceful Chinese neighbors. They
passed through a high bamboo fence and entered an armed compound.
The men and women were separated by the guards, and taken away.
Shaka and the olive-skinned woman, though unable to speak one
another's language nonetheless managed to communicate quite
well. During their second prolonged conversation, the rustling sounds
of the grass in which they lay was joined by the rustling sounds of
bowmen and spearmen who surrounded them, chuckling and leering at the
woman, upon whom they trained their bows. Shaka reluctantly stood and
allowed his hands to be bound behind his back. He watched them bind
the woman's hands as well, and then a sharp blow to the head rendered
him unconscious.
The woman followed the intruders, her head held almost arrogantly, as they
picked up Shaka and, carrying him, led her upstream to a bamboo-walled
compound. Inside the compound, Shaka was carried off away from her and
she was taken to one of a number of bamboo cages. In the cell beyond
her was Maria.
Maria found herself in a bamboo cell, one of a number of cages erected
near the fortress wall. After a few minutes, the olive-skinned woman
was deposited in the neighboring cell.
Glenn and Charles were brought to a series of sturdy bamboo cells near
the middle of the compound, and thrown into separate cages. Men
with cruel faces half visible in the darkness guarded them, stepping
aside once to allow a troop of bowmen to throw the unconscious body of
Shaka into a cell near theirs. A sigh arose from a cell behind theirs,
and they turned to see a strong-looking man who spoke in English,
naming himself Tjar. He and Glenn spoke with one another, while Shaka
returned to consciousness.
Tjar: "I don't know if either of you can speak English, but I'm sorry
to meet you under these circumstances."
Glenn: "Yes, I can speak English. I'm Glenn. This is Charles, and the
man on the floor is Shaka. Where are we?"
Tjar: "The blissful realm of Temuchin, who seems intent on extending
it up and down the River. Welcome to grail-slavery."
Shaka awoke with a pounding headache, and frowned deeply at his
imprisonment. The sight of the bamboo cage did nothing for his temperment.
He exchanged nods with Glenn and Charles, imprisoned in neighboring
cells. Glenn was speaking with another prisoner, who pointed to
himself and said "Tjar".
As Maria and the olive-skinned woman looked at one another, a voice
from the cell beyond Maria spoke, greeting them in Latin and naming
herself Hypatia. She too, seemed to be recently captured by the men,
and confused about their status.
The guards barked out an order at the prisoners, who fell silent,
thinking their private thoughts until the sun rose.
Out on the river, Josephine's powerful dive into the water quickly
brought her close to Jeanne, who was thrashing about and clenching her
teeth. Josephine pulled her back to the bank of the River, and, with
Florence, wrapped her in a towel and spoke comfortingly. The women sat
holding Jeanne for some time until the wildness left her eyes and her
teeth unclenched. She wept silently.
Jeanne: "Pardonnez-moi. I am so sorry. I.."
Josephine: "There, there, honey. Nothing to worry about now."
Florence: "Though I think we'd better return to the fire. The others
must be worried about us by now."
They hiked back to their bamboo glade, and found George's body,
pierced through the throat by a flint-tipped arrow. Signs of a
struggle lay about him, but there was no sight of the others, or of
Shaka and the olive-skinned woman. A trail of flattened grass seemed
to lead upstream. The women looked at one another with concern as the
first fires of dawn burst over the mountains.
When Florence and Josephine returned from the River with Jeanne, it
still far from light, and as they tramped through the grasses back
toward the bamboo glade, the two older women comforted the younger.
When they returned and found the others missing, however, it was
Jeanne whose knowledge proved to be of much comfort to the others.
* * * *
Finding George dead was a shock to all three women. It was Florence
who first found words.
Florence: "Poor man. The tracks lead upstream, toward the walled city
that Charles, Shaka, and I saw during our walk."
Josephine shuddered and whispered a quiet prayer. Then, with quiet
determination, she looked up, her eyes seemingly years older in a
moment. When she spoke, her voice was low and grim.
Josephine: "Of course.... Why was I lulled into security by the fact
that there were men about? During the war it was the
women who had to support the men."
She smiled wryly, and sadly.
Josephine: "It seems that life on the river echoes life on earth."
Jeanne seemed to have recovered from her plunge into The River, and
began speaking excitedly.
Jeanne: "At last! Something to _do_!"
She stepped over to George's body and removed the arrow.
Apologetically, she explained.
Jeanne: "I do not mean to dishonor his body, but we have no
weapons. It is small, but it is better than nothing. We
should have made spears with the Moor. But its too late for
that now."
Together, the women moves George's body out of the glade, and erected
a cairn of leaves and dirt over the body, and Jeanne murmured
a prayer for the deliverance of George's soul.
Jeanne: "May St. Catherine, St. Margaret, and St. Michael guide you to
salvation. May the Lord grant you peace, and may the
Perpetual Light shine upon you."
The other women murmured "amen", and Jeanne crossed herself.
Jeanne: "Now...we must rescue our companions!"
Florence: "I think we'd better stay put until morning, when we'll be
better equipped to deal with whoever did this."
Jeanne turned to look at Josephine.
Josephine: "Well, I think we'd better stick together, and take
Florence's advice for now."
Jeanne nodded, with some reluctance.
Florence took a burning stick from the fire and the women searched in
a 100 yard circle around the glade. They moved slowly, looking for
clues and fearing to find other members of their group in George's
state. They found neither, but Jeanne recovered four spears that Shaka
and Charles had fashioned earlier that day, and the women armed
themselves with them. They also found George's firestarter in the
grass, but his grail, like those of the others, was nowhere to be seen.
They concluded their search just as the nightly thunderstorm began to
rain water upon them, and the three huddled about the fire, spreading
a towel over their heads to protect themselves and the fire from the
splatter of the precipitation. After an hour the rain stopped, and
Josephine squared her shoulders and turned to Jeanne.
Josephine: "It is clear to me that you have much experience with
weaponry. I'm afraid that I cannot claim the same. Though
perhaps you could share a bit of your knowledge?"
Jeanne nodded eagerly, and stood up to demonstrate.
Jeanne: "Throw, like so. Keep your elbow here, too far out and you
will lose your power. It will take some practice. Or use like
this, in close quarters."
She held the spear in both hands, jabbing as if with a polearm.
Jeanne: "Remember we only have these few spears, if you throw it, you
may not be able to retrieve it."
She held the spear in front of her, horizontally, her hands 18" apart.
Jeanne: "The bamboo may not be strong enough for this, but if you lose
your point you might also be able to use it as a staff."
She moved through the motions of an attack against an imagined foe.
Jeanne: "Cripple him and he will not be able to come after you, but he
could still throw his spear or arrow. Dying may mean nothing
to these people."
* * * *
Together they practiced with their spears until dawn. As she sparred
with them, Jeanne spoke under her breath incessantly. During a moment
of rest, Josephine asked her what she was saying.
Jeanne: "I give Glory to my God, for giving me renewed purpose. True,
I do not know these people we woke with, and owe them
nothing, but they are still children of God, even the Moor
who speaks no civilized language. We must do what we can to
help each other. Who knows, perhaps this is to be my Work in
this life. Perhaps the Moor will see the strength in me and
behold the mystery of God working through me, and he will
accept his salvation."
Josephine nodded thoughtfully.
During a later moment, when Jeanne had gone to relieve herself, and
Josephine was alone with Florence, she motioned silent toward Jeanne.
Josephine: "Florence...I think we're going to have to keep an eye on
her."
In the morning, the three women stood at the foot of the trail of
flattened grass, and Jeanne pointed upRiver with her spear, suggesting
that they seek after the others.
* * * *
Shaka awoke groggily and rubbed his head. He looked around and
frowned, but nodded at Glenn and Charles. As a guard walked by he
looked through the bars at the man with undisguised anger and
hatred. His face betrayed a desire to shatter the bamboo and kill the
man with his bare hands.
Charles, observing Shaka, made calming motions with his hands, and
Shaka sat back on his heels and watched the man. Charles addressed
Tjar in a number of languages, none of which he seemed to
understand. Tjar, who had been pacing his cell and pulling at the
bamboo bars, spoke English in return. Even to those who could not
understand him, it was clear that he was swearing.
Tjar: "I can't speak one of those tongues. I always had translators
for that sort of thing. Dammitall! Well, I shall try to learn
them from now on!"
Charles thought he recognized the language, however, and turned
to Glenn, who seemed to be gazing at the landscape and humming.
After a number of attempts to catch the man's attention, Glenn finally
responded to Charles' insistent German.
Charles: "My twentieth-century companion, why are you so unconcerned
about our plight?"
Glenn: "Because this is something I've always wanted...a chance to be
imprisoned, to not have to deal with all the tiresome
requirements of freedom...life would be better could I write
more things down...but I don't need to. I'm at work on a
fugue, actually...if you could leave me alone for another hour
or so?"
Charles gaped angrily for a moment.
Charles: "When I'm far away, I'll be happy to leave you here, but just
as you desire a life of prisonment, these men and I would
prefer our freedom. Can you understand this man?" He
pointed to Tjar.
Glenn sighed and nodded.
Glenn: "He said we're in the land of Temuchin, and we're to be
grail-slaves."
At Charles' continuing insistence, Glenn, sighing all the while, began
to translate for Charles and Tjar, while Shaka watched the
conversation.
Tjar: "Blast! These things have only been here a month... less! There must
be a flaw, and with effort, we can find it!"
Charles: "Perhaps, though they seem strong enough to me. My name is
Charles, by the way. These men are Glenn and Shaka."
Charles took hold of the bars of his cell, and pulled with all his
strength. When he failed to have any effect on them, he motioned to
Shaka, who tried but likewise proved unable to move them.
Waving his hands in frustration, Shaka pointed to a guard, and
silently indicated his confidence that he could overpower the
man. Pointing to himself, he mimed a howl; indicating the guard again,
he made attacking motions. Pointing to the other men, he indicated the
other guards and made a shaking motion with his hands. Finally, he
traced out a spear in the air, and pretending to hold it, lunged out
toward the other guards with a look of bloodlust. He repeated his
gestures several times before the guard's attention was once again on
the men.
Tjar watched Shaka with interest, head bobbing, and then turned to the
others and spoke.
Tjar: "I believe the savage is trying to say that he wants to try to
escape! I think that is a fine idea! And look at what a
splendid specimen he is! I'm certain he shall dispatch several
of these scoundrels just as he seems to be boasting!"
Tjar: "Let's map out a plan!"
Tjar made large, exaggerated motions toward Shaka, pointing to himself
and to Shaka, and nodding at the latter's gestures. Charles, however,
shook his head and held up a hand, palm forward. He pointed to the sky
in the direction the sun would rise and spoke again.
Charles: "We should wait until sunrise. We will know more then, about
our enemies and our own resources."
Tjar: "Blast it, man! What have we to lose? I for one will not remain
a prisoner of these Bashi-bazooks a moment more than necessary!
Are you with me?"
Charles: "I have no liking for slavery, and I will be with you when
the time comes, but the time is not yet. We should rest."
It seemed to Shaka that Charles and Tjar were arguing over when to
make an escape. Shaka's murderous rage battled with his feeling for
his newfound companion and comraderie won out.
Shaka nodded at Charles' words, and Tjar shrugged and continued to
pace his cell.
Charles lay down in the middle of his cell on the cleanest bit of
ground that he could find. He tucked his grail tightly under his arm,
and whispered softly in Latin. Murmuring "In nomine Patris, et Filii,
et Spiritus Sancti", he fell asleep.
As the sky brightened, the prisoners looked around at their jail and
their jailers. Each bamboo cage was perhaps four feet square, and the
five-and-a-half foot ceilings were uncomfortably low for Shaka. The
cells were arranged in two rows of eight cells each, and three men
besides Shaka, Tjar, Charles, and Glenn were also imprisoned:
Guard
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Guard
A double "wall" of bamboo separated each cell from the others, and
prisoners in adjoining cells could not touch fingers with each other.
A guard stood on each side of the jail structure, and another guard
walked around it in the clockwise direction. When the walking guard
reached a stationary guard, he relieved the man, who took up walking
around to the other side.
The guards appeared to be Chinese, and wore their towels tightly
around their legs and across their chests. Their expressions were
fierce, and each held a flint-tipped spear and had a dagger with a
wooden handle thrust into the waistband of their towel-trousers.
Charles, on awakening has called out to them in an imperial tone.
Charles: "Guards! -- Do you speak this language? I wish to petition
our release -- Summon your leader!"
His only response was a jab with the butt of a spear and the chuckles
of the guards. Amused, they point at Charles and spoke rapidly. Other
guards took the men's grails, and some minutes after they heard the
sounds of the grailstones erupting, they were each brought a piece of
hard bread and a cup of water. The prisoners caught the name
"Temuchin" spoken by the guards more than once, and Charles asked Tjar
about it.
Charles: "Who is this Temuchin? Glenn says you spoke of him."
Tjar: "I've just arrived as well, and a sorry state it is! This German
fellow, though, seems to have been long enough to know."
Tjar pointed to other prisoner in his row. Charles looked excited and
held a lengthy conversation with the man.
Charles: "You are a German? You speak German? What is your name?"
The man nodded, and spoke slowly.
Friend: "Austrian, to be precise. My name is Friend."
Charles: "We are Charles, Shaka, Glenn. What can you tell us about
this Temuchin? We will surely help you to escape as well!"
Friend: "I accept your offer, sir. Temuchin is the leader of this
people. He looks as the guards do and they follow his orders
with great loyalty. He is a tyrant and a megalomaniac;
moreover, he fears that all will seek to overthrow his and
without guards or weapons. He interviews each man he
captures, takes his grail, and puts him to work. In the week
I have been here, I have been forced to build huts and houses
for Temuchin's people. The fruits of my grail are taken from
me daily, and the bread and Riverwater are my only
sustenance. If I am correct, Temuchin now wishes to build a
palace for himself, a symbol of his superiority which will
mask his fears, and I fear you have been captured in order to
work on it."
Charles: "What of the ladies?"
Friend spoke sadly.
Friend: "Alas, like the best of the grails, they too will be divided
between Temuchin and his favored servants, until they tire of
them, and put them to work along us. Or simply kill them."
Even Glenn took notice of this, and Tjar turned quite red.
Charles: "Can we not ransom ourselves?"
Friend: "What can you give Temuchin that he can not get from you by
force? But now, I perceive, you will soon meet him for
yourself."
A troop of ten guards approached the cells. In their center was a man
who, if less imposing in stature, was far more imposing in
countenance. His scowling gaze moved among the new prisoners, and when
he spoke, it was in a loud voice. Seeing that none of the men could
understand his words, he held out his two hands before him, as if
weighing two bundles. Hefting the imagined bundle in his left hand, he
clapped the hand on the shoulder of one of his guards. Testing the
weight of the air in his right hand, he brought it up, palm forward,
and presented it to the men. The image of a man's head on a stake was
dyed into the palm of his hand. He made the weighing motion again and
then folded his arms and regarded the men expectantly.
* * * *
The olive-skinned woman stood proudly in her cell with her head held
high. Her face showed no trace of fear or dismay. Her hands had been
untied by the guards, and they lay serenely at her side as she turned
in a slow circle, her eyes darting here and there, noting the strength
of the bars, the roof construction, and finally resting on Maria for a
brief moment. The pale woman seemed too shocked by their capture to do
anything but look back, blankly.
The guards regarded the women with evident lechery, but made no move
to touch them or even speak, though they occasionally smirked or
leered as they stood watch.
Stretching catlike, the olive-skinned woman smothered a yawn, then
curled up against the back of the cage, near the wall adjoining
Maria's cell. After staring out at the night for a few minutes, and
trying to make sense of the darkness-muffled sounds, she turned her
eyes back towards Maria and Hypatia. Taking a marijuana stick from her
grail, she attempted to light it, but her firelighter brought on a
commotion from the guards, who confiscated it before she could bring
it to bear. Warily, the guards also took her grail, and Maria's as well.
Once the guards had resumed their posts, Maria sank into a deep
slumber and the woman who had named herself Hypatia leaned close to
the cage adjacent to hers and whispered to the other in Latin.
Hypatia: "I have yet to find a method of breaking through these reed
structures. Perhaps my skills are not up to it. If you
have a solution to offer, I would be gladdened to hear of
it. I have been here some days and fear for my companion."
Her face is a mask of concern and strength as she frowns in concentration at
the ground beneath her feet.
Olive-skinned woman: "Although I am a warrior, I fight with my thoughts."
She briefly touched her forehead.
Woman: "Right now my armies are in chaos, and badly in need of rest,
just as soldiers need to be resupplied, I need to sleep.
Tomorrow is time enough to fight, and tomorrow, perhaps, we
will know more of the enemy."
Hypatia continued to mumble.
Hypatia: "Lifting the bars up didn't work. Pushing them downward
didn't work. Pushing out didn't work. Pulling in? Did I try
pulling in? Well, pulling in doesn't work. Up and out?
No. Down and out? No. These reeds seem quite sturdy. Did I
tell you I'd tried lifting them up?"
Noticing that the other was no longer listening, Hypatia stopped.
Hypatia and the olive-skinned woman concluded their conversation.
The olive-skinned woman turned onto her side, and in minutes her
breathing deepened and her muscles relaxed in sleep. Hypatia too fell
into a fitful and uneasy sleep.
The olive-skinned woman woke with the rising sun, and after stretching
and shaking some of the accumulated grit of her skin, settled herself
near the front of her cage. Maria too awoke, and gazed about her.
Hypatia surveyed her surroundings, and, taking in the positions of the
guards with bored disinterest, she looked instead at the new arrivals.
The olive-skinned woman was undeniably attractive, and held herself
like one accustomed to power. The paler woman, Maria, seemed less
fragile than she had the night before.
Hypatia also considered what she had learned about the construction of
the cages. The bamboo bars were sunk about three inches into the
hard-packed earth, but some heavy weight on the roof of the cells
prevented lifting them or kicking them from their place.
As the sky brightened, the prisoners consider their situation.
Their cages were four feet square, and five-and-a-half feet high.
They were at the end of a row of eight cells which abutted the bamboo
fence that ringed the compound. The prisoners were separated from each
other by a double wall of bamboo bars that prevented contact, and a
guard stood at either end of the row of cages.
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The guard nearest them wore a towel like trousers about his legs and
another across his chest. A dagger thrust into his waistband and a
flint-tipped spear completed his uniform. He watched the woman stir
with interest.
Hypatia spoke again.
Hypatia: "I know from other women here what will happen to us. The
leader of this place, Temuchin, will visit tonight, and will
select one of us for his bed until she displeases him. Then
we will rejoin the men, laboring as slaves..if we are
lucky. But we should be safe until nightfall."
The women heard the sound of the grailstones firing, and about an hour
later were brought a rough meal of hard bread and Riverwater.
They ate thoughtfully.
* * * *
Again, Temuchin made the movements with his hands.
Charles looked around, fuming unnoticeably. After a moment of
thought, he bowed stiffly and formally at the waist to Temuchin.
While looking calmly at the small Chinese man, Charles spoke in
German.
Charles: "Now is not the time for a fight, but a fight will come, and
we will be free -- mark my words"
Shaka too spent a moment thinking, looking curiously at Temuchin's
gestures. Finally, he stood as tall as he was able in the low cage,
and, crouching, smiled and nodded at the man.
Tjar watched the others, and fixed Temuchin with a measuring stare.
He spoke to the man in English.
Tjar: "What is your plan for us, man?"
He looked at Temuchin, and the guards, for any sign of recognition
of the language. Finding none, he then looked to his companions, and
swore with fierce anger.
Tjar: "Blast!"
As Shaka, still smiling, began to flex his muscles for their captor,
Glenn began to sing a melody. The song began simply, but soon became
more intricate. As the others looked on, surprised, Friend's baritone
joined Glenn's tenor in the melody.
Tjar again exclaimed in English.
Tjar: "Well I'll be the savage's slipper!"
Shrugging, Tjar joined in the song, and Glenn's voice moved into
counterpoint with the two men.
Temuchin looked thoughtful for a moment, and then made lifted his
hand in a gesture which the men easily interpreted. They stopped their
singing, and Temuchin nodded approvingly. He signaled two of his men,
who brought over the men's grails, closed. Opening each cage in turn,
the guards returned each man's grail.
The men opened their grails to find them full of food, and ate
hungrily. When they had finished their meal, the guards took their
grails back, and led Shaka and Charles from the cages to stand before
Temuchin. Charles had saved a cup of yellow wine from his grail, and
held it before him, offering it to Temuchin. Temuchin took the cup and
passed it to one of his lieutenants, who drained it in one gulp.
Charles and Shaka were led off by the guards.
The singers who remained behind spoke quietly among themselves.
Glenn: "Hmm. I thought I had discovered our fourth voice: how they
opened our grails. But it appears they did not open them."
Tjar: "What's this about a fourth voice?"
When Glenn had explained his observations to Tjar, the man was both
surprised and curious.
Tjar: "Ox's blood, I've heard some strange tales, but that beats all.
For you all to appear together, away from a grailstone?"
Friend: "What strikes me as most significant is the memory loss. That
usually indicates some injury to the head, or else a trauma
that you can not bear to face. But so many people..."
Glenn shrugged.
Glenn: "At least they appreciate music. I'd better teach you both
another Baroque melody, so we'll have something for dinner."
Charles and Shaka were led by the guards to a bamboo hut where
they were outfitted with chest-towels like the other guards. Then they
were escorted to another hut, which, from the smell, served as the
latrine for the compound. Smiling, a guard handed each of them a towel
and pointed to the door and the floor beyond. The party of guards
watched the men work on their knees for a few minutes, and then,
leaving two guards behind to make sure they finished the job, went
elsewhere in the camp. The men faintly heard the sound of singing
throughout the afternoon.
* * * *
Josephine placed a hand on the small of her back and stretched for a long
moment, twisting slightly to loosen her muscles. Jeanne, already awake
and armed, pointed with her spear up the path.
Florence awoke at first light after only three hours of fitful sleep.
She too stretched, and smiled slightly.
Florence: "After half a century of pain, to wake up stiff on the grass
in this body is a pleasure indeed."
But she looked around and soon remembered the events of the previous
night. Her smile turned grim.
Florence spoke slowly, almost reluctantly:
Florence: "Perhaps Jeanne is right in that our best course of action
is to discover what happened to the others in our party.
We are alone in an obviously hostile environment, not
knowing where safety or harm lies. Surely we are poorly
equipped to bide alone."
Florence: "However, I do not want to rush off head-long."
Josephine smiled brightly and energetically, staying on the ground for
a while, stretching her muscles, using the spear she had become
familiar with as an impromptu cane, like the one she used to use in
her early performances on Broadway. She spoke casually, despite
Jeanne's obviously eager promptings to move on.
Josephine: "I'm curious. Why were our people taken and not us? Did the
aggressors not scout beforehand to know what our numbers
were? Did they not go to the river and take the Orientals'
there?"
Josephine: "Before we stumble into anything, perhaps we should find
out if the keepers of the grailstone have seen or heard
anything. Perhaps they know something we do not?"
Jeanne frowned deeply.
Jeanne: "What of our companions, who may even now be suffering?"
Josephine: "It would take but a moment of our time to ask as we fill
our grails if they are missing any people."
Florence: "I agree, we must have nourishment. I do not speak Chinese,
but we can try to communicate."
Jeanne: "Perhaps they are allies of the intruders, amis des diables.
Perhaps it was they who reported our presence. Should we let
them know about us, too?"
Josephine: "But should we not know about them, as well?"
Jeanne grudgingly agreed that scouting a potential enemy could be a
valuable activity and the three women walked back down to the
grailstone to eat breakfast.
Again they met the Chinese settlers, who nodded when they pointed to
the grailstone. Placing their grails in the stone, they sat with the
local inhabitants, and Florence began attempting to communicate,
repeating her words in four or five languages, while Josephine and
Jeanne pantomimed her meaning.
Florence: "Our party has disappeared in the night, apparently they
were captured. Do you know anything about this? It
appears as if they headed upRiver to the walled City. What
can you tell us about this city?
The Chinese looked confused and shook their heads, pointing to their
ears sadly until Florence tried one of her last tongues. Then a woman
stepped forward and babbled quickly in Chinese to the others, who
nodded and became more animated. They surrounded the women and pressed
them toward their dwellings.
Jeanne: "It is as I feared! Make ready to defend yourselves!"
Josephine: "They don't look angry."
They came before a small hut on the edge of the village, and the
people stopped and pointed toward it. Shrugging, the women entered the
domicile, Jeanne clutching her spear firmly, Josephine arching her
eyebrows, and Florence looking very curious.
The man in the center of the room seemed to be lightly dozing when
the women entered, but their steps seemed to awaken him, and he
listened briefly to the words of the Chinese woman before
motioning for the visitors to sit down, and the others to leave them
alone. He turned to a small fire behind him and poured four cups of a
grassy-smelling tea. His eyes gave the impression of great age which
belied the youthfulness of his body. He spoke, slowly, and
Florence translated for the others.
Florence: "He says he can speak some Latin. He learned from a priest.
His name is Li Erh."
Florence related the story of the preceding night, augmenting Latin
with mime when the man shook his head. At the end of her tale, he
sighed sadly and spoke again.
Florence: "He says the people upRiver are also Chinese, but from a
different time. They have left the village alone because
they are both Chinese, but he fears they will despoil it as
well, when they can no longer increase their power."
Jeanne: "This village is a buffer state?"
Josephine: "So it seems."
Florence: "He says that a...I'm not sure who he means...someone told
him that the king's name is Temuchin, and that he is very
cruel. He believes our friends, if they were taken, are now
servants."
Li Erh nodded sadly at her words and opened his arms wide.
Florence: "He also said that they honor kings above nature, which he
seems to think poorly of. And I think he's inviting us to
stay until night."
Josephine nodded, and looked at Jeanne, expecting an outburst. But the
young woman nodded sagaciously.
Jeanne: "It is good tactics to approach under cover of darkness. But I
will wait no longer than tonight!"
Florence: "Tonight it will be. But remember, we do not know our
friends were taken to this city, and we cannot afford to
alienate anyone in this strange place. If they have been
taken there, then we should rightly be cautious. Fools go
rushing in where angels fear to tread. We cannot help our
friends by dying in God's name in this place yet. If they
have already been welcomed into God's loving arms, then our
work must lie elsewhere."
Jeanne: "I am no fool, but God does not favor those who stand idly
by. His grace falls on those who stand up for his truth."
Josephine: "Until darkness falls on us, though, let's stay out of
sight."
The villagers brought the women their grails and they ate their lunch
in Li Erh's hut, spending the rest of the afternoon in relative silence.
* * * *
The olive-skinned woman tore small pieces off the slices of hard bread
given to her and then slowly, one by one, placed them delicately
between her lips, chewing each piece with a mouthful of water until
softened enough to swallow. Upon completing her meal, she rose to her
feet, and made an attempt to wipe off her clothing and her hands.
Looking towards Hypatia, and occasionally trying to meet Maria's eyes,
the olive-skinned woman began to speak, accompanying her words with
simple pantomimes for Maria's benefit.
Woman: "It surprises me that our grails were taken away from us. I
expected them to be returned to us shortly before the firings,
to have us gain their contents and 'donate' them to our
captors. I can't see how they can be of any use otherwise."
She paused briefly and musingly continued.
Woman: "Unless of course, they enjoy merely the fact that it means we
do without. A common tactic with prisoners I believe, destroy
all that is normal to them, and before long, you will destroy
the prisoner."
Hypatia: "Perhaps Temuchin likes his women thin. How will we escape
this place?"
The olive-skinned woman fell silent again for quite awhile. She stared
out at the compound before her, her eyes fixed on one spot and seldom
blinking. Looking up at Hypatia again, she wryly spoke.
Woman: "Escape is simple actually....Lazari never awaken near their
place of demise. Though our awakening was strange."
Maria nodded at the woman's gestures.
Hypatia looked curious, but the woman said no more. She sat quietly
near the rear of the cage, her eyes flickering toward any movement in
the compound. She scrutinized the guards with an unfeeling stare.
Hypatia: "Surely there must be some way out of here?"
Woman: "I, for one, am happy to just sit and watch for now. Don't let
fear of the unknown scare you into acting too soon."
With a slight lifting of her chin, and an unconscious arching of her back
she added, "One way or the other I doubt I'll be a prisoner for long."
Hypatia turned away.
Maria watched the motions of the two. The olive-skinned woman showed
surprise about the lack of the grails, and shrugged without looking
defeated. Hypatia's hands suggested that the women might become quite
slender and her eyes looked questioningly for a course of action The
other woman's next response seemed to suggest that they might kill
themselves in order to escape, but Maria considered the odd
circumstances of their last rebirth and wondered whether that plan was
really prudent. Nevertheless, she nodded at the gestures. The
olive-skinned woman seemed content to simply watch the compound and
the guards, and Hypatia had turned away, with a look that might have
been disgust.
Maria chewed the hard bread slowly and sipped at the water.
Gradually, a healthy blush replaced the gray pallor of her cheeks. The
vacuousness left her hazel eyes.
After a while, she began to pace the cell floor, testing each segment
of the walls, periodically looking in the direction of the guards. She
tested the strength of the grass-rope knots which bind the bamboo
walls, looking in vain for looser knots. Hypatia shook her head as if
to say she'd been over that ground before, but followed Maria's
attempts avidly. Eventually, Maria gave up, and sat quietly in a
corner of her cell.
The sounds from the center of the compound made the three women
instantly alert. Though quiet, they thought they could hear men's
voices raised in song. Maria's eyes widened and she turned to the
olive-skinned woman and said, "Glenn!"
When the song stopped, Maria's eyes traced the tracks she had made on
the dirt floor in her cell. She tightly clasped the cup of river water
in her hands. She seemed to be concentrating deeply, and after 30
minutes, Maria stood up, a calculating look on her face. In a lilting
and melodic voice, she began to sing in English.
Glenn and Tjar stared at one another in their cells as they heard a
woman's voice singing faintly.
Glenn: "I think it's Maria!"
Using the tune of a traditional 19th century English wassail, Maria
sang:
Maria: "One caged bird sings
'Tween two other birdlings.
Caged door 'twined,
Two hungry cats
Perched outside.
The bird's wings clipped,
Her talons gone.
Who is there
To hear her song?
Who is there
To hear her song?"
In his cage, Tjar nodded at Glenn.
Tjar: "And from the sound of it, she's not alone. Perhaps my ward is
with her. Hurrah for the ladies."
The guards began to pay them attention again, and they turned to
arranging pieces of Bach's Mass in B Minor for three voices.
The women listened to the voices of the men practicing other melodies
throughout the afternoon. And the guards pointed to Maria and nodded
amongst themselves with sneering grins.
The sky began to darken.
* * * *
As Maria's voice faded into silence, the olive-skinned woman murmured,
almost as if talking to herself.
Woman: "Although any other captives now know where the women are,
you've brought attention to us, and more specifically to
yourself, I hope you are prepared to deal with it..."
She turned to study Maria for a moment or two, then glancing coldly at
the sneering guards she shrugged and returned her attention to the
sounds coming from the men's compound.
Seeing the guards' expressions, Hypatia stifled a sigh and looked at the
now-silent woman in the cell adjoining hers.
Singing woman, she thought to herself. This singing woman brings too
much attention to herself.
Shaking her head, she lowered herself to the ground and leaned against
the back of her cage. The darkening sky was blistered with startling
oranges and crimsons which were quickly fading into velvet indigos. She
watched her new companions and the guards beyond them, listening to
the singing male voices and daydreaming of escape.
Her thoughts turned over the familiar ground: the weaknesses of the
cages of which there appeared to be none. Though she had seen only
the guards in this encampment, their outfitting suggested that flint
tools were not uncommon, and their bearing suggested that they
maintained some discipline, weak though it might be compared to the
soldiers of Alexandria. Tonight, she decided, she would turn her mind
to the thorny problem of Temuchin, he who had ordered her captivity.
Surely, she thought, there was some crack the mortar of his being which
might be exploited to all of their advantages. She had seen him but
briefly and now there was only one further way she might gain more
knowledge of him.
She snorted in disgust at the thought, thinking of the language
problem shared between them, and how little she might gain for such
excruciating effort. Her eyes moved to the cat-like woman beyond the
Singer. Arrogant, but intelligent and not unattractive to the other
sex, Hypatia noted to herself. But even she too, perhaps, suffered
from the language difficulties.
Hypatia lifted her head and spoke quietly, but loud enough to be heard in
the olive-skinned woman's cage.
Hypatia: "Fighter-with-Thoughts, is there a chance that you can speak
the tongue of our captors? I have some few ideas..."
Woman: "I do not speak their tongue."
Hypatia: "Perhaps we can nevertheless meld our thoughts together and
so strengthen them."
Woman: "Thoughts of escape? There is no way out from the situation we
are now in, to attempt it, or to even ponder it any more is
merely a waste of energy."
Hypatia shifted slightly on the ground and looked uncomfortable for a moment.
Hypatia: "I thought perhaps if you knew their language and were to
become the ... consort ... of our captor, you might learn
more of him, and we might better be able to plan an escape.
Or else, if he favors you, he might release us."
At Hypatia's words, the olive-skinned woman laughed throatily,
tilted her chin to point toward Maria, and then looked pointedly at
Hypatia.
Woman: "Why me? What about our lovely caged bird here?"
Woman: "Or yourself?"
Hypatia: "I can't speak their tongue."
Woman: "Nor can I. That does not disqualify you."
Hypatia looked disgusted by the idea and stammered:
Hypatia: "I will not. There is Work I must yet do."
The other woman nodded her head slightly, and spoke dryly.
Woman: "Ahh, of course."
Reaching her arms above and behind her head and bouncing on her toes
to stretch unused muscles, the olive-skinned woman turned her eyes
towards the center of the compound before speaking again.
Woman: "Perhaps this 'Temuchin' isn't the monster you think. Powerful
men can be tolerated with little effort..."
She ran a hand across the gentle rounding of her stomach, and met
Hypatia's eyes.
Woman: "If he shows interest in you and you value your life, you
should remember that."
Hypatia smiled faintly and turned her head as if measuring the
olive-skinned woman in the other cell. She touched her breastbone
with the long, delicate fingers of her right hand.
Hypatia: "This flesh-that-binds. A powerful man is nothing more than
one tied too tightly to his flesh. He will never let
his..."
She paused.
Hypatia: "His Nous, his Soul, is captured even as our flesh is."
Hypatia: "You are right, in your strange way. I will release my hold
on this flesh and seek the answers from the spirits
instead."
Hypatia closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths.
The olive-skinned woman motioned to Maria, pointed to the earth and
said "terra". Maria nodded excitedly and replied by making the same
motion and repeating the same word. The olive-skinned woman began
teaching Maria some simple words in Latin, and learning the same words
in Italian, which seemed very similar. Maria also taught them the
words for "person" and "food" in English. Both proved to be able
students and by the early evening, they could hold a simple
conversation.
Maria: "You know I am called Maria. I know she is called Hypatia. I do
not know what you are called."
The olive-skinned woman hesitated slightly, and looked over at Hypatia
before she spoke.
Cleopatra: "I am called Cleopatra."
Maria looked surprised. Hypatia, though surely conscious of the
activity around her, remained unresponsive.
Maria: "Hello, Cleopatra. I know you. My people all know you."
Cleopatra shrugged but did not seem inclined to respond to the woman's
comments.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the guards who brought the women
their grails. After some prodding by the guards, Hypatia opened her
grail, but made no move to eat. Maria approached the food hungrily,
and Cleopatra ate with an almost unnoticeable disdain. The
guards removed the cigarettes, marijuana, alcohol, and dreamgum from
the grails, and spirited them off somewhere else under the growing
darkness.
Hypatia, in a distant-sounding voice, commented on this, speaking
simply for Maria's benefit.
Hypatia: "Bad that they took the gum. It may have helped us."
Maria looked questioningly at her.
Hypatia: "We give the gum to the guards and run."
Cleopatra and Hypatia spoke more rapidly for a moment and then both
fell silent.
Cleopatra: "How does that help us?"
Hypatia: "They may become mercilessly violent and kill each other, or
they may become euphoric and let us free."
Cleopatra: "Or perhaps they'll become violent and attack us instead."
Hypatia: "I have not thought on this long. Let my dreams show me more
meaning to all this."
Cleopatra nodded at Hypatia, and Hypatia resumed her deep breathing,
falling once more into a heavy trance.
The beginning of the glimmering of twilight had fallen across the
encampment when a man approached their cells, surrounded by a troop of
ten guards. The man was quite small, shorter than many of his guards,
but carried himself with an imposing mien and a wild-eyed countenance.
The deference of all around him marked him as Temuchin, the leader of
village. The image of a disembodied head impaled by a stake was
somehow tatooed onto the palm of his left hand.
As the man neared the cells, he glanced at the women within, and then
moved to speak to the guards. They nodded respectfully, smiled, and
pointed to Maria. Temuchin nodded in return, and strode off with all
but two of his entourage. The soldiers who remained behind unlocked
Maria's cell, and motioned for her to come with them. One carried a
spear; the other, a dagger.
Maria's face grew pale with fright, and she hung her head resignedly.
When she raised it again, it was still pale, and her eyes held fear,
but a stoic determination had taken residence in the set of her lips.
She walked off between the two men as their guards began to light
torches against the coming of night.
* * * *
Florence spoke to Li Erh again, listening respectfully to his responses.
Florence: "If you are willing, I have many questions."
Li Erh: "I do not promise that I have many answers, but I am willing."
Florence: "What is this world we are in? This is like no afterlife
imagined by man! Why were we resurrected here? What is
our purpose?"
Li Erh: "I do not know what world this is. Nor do I know why we were
brought here or for what. It does not trouble me. On earth,
there was much suffering; many people strove against nature,
both the natural world and their own true natures. Great
kings imposed an artificial order on men and women, and
increased the suffering. Here we have an opportunity to once
again act according to our true natures, and so I am not
troubled."
Florence: "But there are kings here, though perhaps more petty than
great. How can our creator stand idly by whilst men such as
Temuchin enslave others as in our previous life? Sure that
is evidence that this is not heaven!"
Li Erh: "The priest who taught me your language had similar notions of
a Creator. I am afraid I do not believe there is a power
which acts on the lives of men and women. We are like fish in
a flowing stream. When we move against our natures, we know
nothing but trouble. When we move with our natures, we know
peace. And what is heaven if not peace?"
Jeanne frowned deeply at these words, and spoke to Florence in French.
Jeanne: "Are they all like him? A nation of heathens?"
Florence: "He may not believe what we do, but the people here clearly
value his wisdom, and given our circumstances, we should
not be ungrateful for his counsel."
Li Erh, watching the conversation, spoke up again.
Li Erh: "Even though I do not understand your words, young woman,
their tone is not unlike that of my Catholic friend. Perhaps
what I call true nature is what you call god. It would be a
pity, however, to spoil the afternoon with argument."
Jeanne pondered this for a time. She nodded, looking more content, and
murmured to herself in French.
Jeanne: "This place is like no heaven the holy men spoke of. Perhaps
it is a way-station; a place to atone for our sins before we
may be admitted into His Presence. After we have rescued our
companions I will return here to save these people from their
heresy."
Josephine had watched the conversation between Florence and Li Erh for
a time before becoming bored as they began to speak of heaven and the
afterlife. She stepped outside and watched the faces of the villagers
for a time, smiling warmly. She attempted to compliment a villager on
the construction of the huts, using hand movements and facial
expressions, and had some success. The pleased villager bowed to her
and smiled, pointing out some of the subtler features of their
construction.
Taking the spear she appropriated for herself, Josephine passed the
rest of the afternoon going over the movements she learned from Jeanne
throwing in a high kick and a twirl of the spear in her hand for her
own amusement. After a while, she broke into a full-blown dance
number, her body swaying as she sang along in her own accompaniment.
Many villagers grinned appreciatively, some even mimicing the
movements of her dance, and the sound drew Jeanne out. Together the
two busied themselves with spear practice while Florence remained in
the hut conversing with Li Erh.
At dinner time, the women filled their grails. Following Florence's
lead, they ate lightly and saved some food for travel. Jeanne offered
villagers the dreamgum from her grail in trade for two grass torches.
As the sun began to set, they prepared to move out.
Florence: "Let us approach unseen if possible. I doubt that force
will be on our side in this. Cunning is our only hope.
Josephine: "I have to agree that we three women, no matter how
enthusiastic we are, are no match for people who are
obviously stronger and have more people. I mean, they did
manage to capture large men, even armed ones such as
George and... Shaka, is that his name? Shaka?"
She looks thoughtful, resting her chin on her hand.
Josephine: "I remember back in the war, we would use surprise,
probably a good idea for now, eh? I think we should scout
the city as best we can. Perhaps finding a tree to climb
that would allow us a peek into the compound."
Jeanne agreed.
Jeanne: "Reconnaissance is proper when the enemy is unknown."
The women headed upRiver toward the walled city. Florence led the
group with a purposeful stride. Josephine followed, very light on her
feet, making almost no noise as her body moved flowingly. She
whispered to her companions.
Josephine: "I always knew sneaking out of the Prince Regent's suite in
Belgium would come in handy"
She smiled widely, clearly amused with herself.
Jeanne, the strongest fighter of the three, took up a rear guard
position where she could watch behind them and cover their tracks.
As they began the trek, she awkwardly turned to the other women
and spoke quietly.
Jeanne: "I... would like to thank you, I mean, I never did before and
don't want to seem ungrateful. There was no reason for you to
come after me, when I jumped in the River. But I appreciate
that you did."
Josephine: "You're very welcome, honey. Of course we couldn't leave
you there. We were put together for a reason, after all."
The three smiled briefly at one another and continued walking.
The terrain was relatively flat, becoming flatter so as it approached
the River, and more hilly inland. Moving carefully in the half-light,
the women veered away from the River to take advantage of the cover
provided by the trees. From a distance they could see the south wall
of the compound, made of tightly bound bamboo stakes, ten feet high,
with sharpened points. The wall stretched about 200 yards from the
River to the eastern wall, and had no point of entrance. The bamboo
shoots around the fortress were young; a great deal of mature bamboo
must have been cut down to build the walls.
They moved around to the east side of the compound, and climbed into a
low tree some distance from the walls. The eastern wall, another 200
yards of tall bamboo, was marked with a door in its center. Three
guards, holding torches and spears, were standing watch in the waning
twilight. Their vision was trained on the area before them, and they
did not look up toward the women.
Jeanne spoke in a low whisper.
Jeanne: "We do not know our companions are here; we might be better
off to approach peacefully and see what we can learn from the
inhabitants. But if what the heathen says is true, it is
likely this king will not help us, even if he does not hold
them. If we attempt to scale the wall and search the city
secretly, we may run afoul of a city guard, if they have
such. And we would be hard pressed to explain our presence in
that case."
Jeanne shrugged.
Jeanne: "The Lord will provide. I suggest we enter secretly and see if
we can find a friend among the city residents."
* * * *
Charles replayed the events of the walk from the cells to the latrine,
fixing the layout of the village in his mind. He thought he could
identify the way to the eastern exit from the compound, and while he
could not see the women, the singing came from the south side of the
fortress, exactly opposite from the direction he was escorted to begin
the first of his duties for Temuchin.
During the walk north from the cage to the latrine, Shaka's eyes took
in the movement of the people in the village. The guards seemed to be
fairly disciplined, and all the men he saw were armed. No women were
in evidence in the northern areas of the village.
Both men observed one hut which was considerably larger than the
others, and which they took to be Temuchin's.
The latrine was a small building with a dirt floor and bamboo walls.
Woven-grass baskets, clearly intended as receptacles for human
waste, were set about the floor, and the men, following the silent
instructions of the guards, emptied these into a larger basket, and
cleaned the smaller ones with water and their towels.
Charles went about the task diligently, if not thoroughly, and Shaka
devoted himself to the job with a mixture of resignation and disgust,
but their work seemed to satisfy the guards, who rapidly became bored
watching the two men, and stepped outside to talk away from the
stench. They looked inside occasionally, and nodded approvingly, but
spent most of their time telling jokes, to judge from their restrained
laughter.
Using a tone as conversational as possible, Shaka taught Charles the
rudiments of Bantu, starting with words like work, dirt, towel, then
moving to words like fight, war, weapon and kill. Charles, in turn,
taught Shaka the German equivalents, and added the words for women,
guards, and food.
Soon they were able to have a simple conversation. Charles, using
words and hand signals, suggested to Shaka that they wait and observe
before taking action. Shaka listened, and nodded, though the look on
his face showed that he was not in full agreement. He seemed ready to
suggest that they fight the guards, but Charles seemed set against
immediate action, mentioning the women. Charles did, however, point
out some 8-inch pointed bamboo slivers near one of the latrine walls,
and each man slipped two under their towels.
As the cleaning continued, however, Charles' face became increasingly
determined, and he stopped speaking, deep in thought. Finally, he
caught Shaka's eye, looked over at the door to the latrine, and
muttered the German word "guards". He looked down at the bamboo under
their towels and muttered the Bantu word "weapon". He looked back at
Shaka and nodded.
Suddenly, Charles dropped his cleaning towel, stood up, and moaned
loudly. Clutching his head, he fell back against the wall of the
latrine as the guards entered, surprised. He slid to the floor, his
eyes fluttering closed, and his hands dropped to his lap.
The guards approached, speaking loudly to Charles, and one shook him
roughly. Opening his eyes, Charles drew the bamboo splinter from
beneath his towel and thrust it through the chin of the guard, who
slumped forward immediately. Behind the man, Charles saw Shaka entomb
another splinter into the second guard's temple. The prisoners armed
themselves with the guards' flint-tipped spears and daggers.
They heard the sound of the grailstone firing, and carefully peered
out of the latrine, surprised at the lateness of the hour. Twilight
had fallen in the compound, and the men of different times and places
had surprisingly similar smiles on their faces. They smiled like
wolves.
* * * *
Shaka finished the guard off and threw his body to the ground.
Grasping the guard's weapons, he made efforts to conceal the the
bodies, motioning for Charles to keep watch for more guards. Shaka
stripped the bodies of their towel-uniforms, put one on, and handed
the other to Charles, who followed.
Smiling despite himself, Charles hefted his newly won spear. He
looked over the sprawled corpses of the two guards as Shaka hid them,
checking to be sure they were not breathing. With the door to the hut
still closed, Charles brandished his spear, spoke the Bantu word,
"Freedom", and grinned at Shaka.
Charles peered out the door of the hut and looked around.
He saw few people walking in the twilight; likely, they were gathered
around the grailstone.
Shaka took his spear in his right hand and makes several thrusts with
it. He shook his head at its length and weight, but did not discard
it. He stood next to Charles at the door of the hut, and nodded at
the word "Freedom", but gestured toward the cages. He made motions of
fighting and opening doors, and his hand signals suggested that his
concern was the other men, not the women.
Listening closely, Charles took a moment and scratched a diagram
on the dirt floor. He indicated their current position, and the
position of their cages. Shaka nodded, and pointed at the cages.
Charles drew in three men around the cages, and pointed to one of
them, saying "fight". He then pointed to Shaka and back to the man's
position. He traced the path of the other men, and as they approach
the first man, he repeated "fight." Shaka nodded, and the two stepped
out of the latrine.
Walking as they had seen the guards do, they retraced their steps
toward their once-prison.
Temuchin's Compound, from Shaka and Charles' experience
---------------------------------------\
|^^^^| /\ /\ /\ /\ |############|
|^^^^| \/ \/ \/ \/ LL |############|
\----/ /\ /\ /\ .LL |############|
\/ \/ \/ . \------------|
.... |
G |
--------- /\ /\ |
G|CCCCCCC| \/ \/ |
--------- /\ #|
G # \/ {
/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ #|
\/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ |
Legend:
#### = Flat-roofed building
^^^^ = 2-story, arched roof building
/\ = A hut
\/
{ = A gate
LL = Latrine
CC = Cage
G = Guard
. = Shaka and Charles' path
* * * *
Josephine walked without noise, her movements fluid. As the team circled
the encampment she flashed reassuring, warm smiles at Jeanne and Florence,
confident in her stealth. When they were sheltered from view by the
tree, she held up her hand for the group to stop, and spoke softly:
Josephine: "Whatever we do, we must do it with our whole hearts. There
will be no turning back. We are all agreed upon this, no?"
The two other women nodded resolutely.
Josephine climbed the tree, her form hugging its trunk, her dark skin
against the bark nearly invisible in the shadows and the darkness.
Her eyes moved over the region as she climbed. Reaching the top, she
looked into the bamboo-walled town.
Temuchin's Compound
~~~~~
~~~~~----------------------------------------------\
~~~~~ /\ |^^^^| /\ /\ /\ /\ |############|
~~~~~ \/ |^^^^| \/ \/ \/ \/ ## |############|
~~~~~ \----/ /\ /\ /\ ## |############|
~~~~~ \/ \/ \/ \------------|
~~~~~----\ |
~~~~~####| # |
~~~~~####| --------- /\ /\ |
~~~~~####| |#######| \/ \/ |
~~~~~####| --------- /\ #|
~~~~~####| # \/ {
~~~~~####| /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ #|
~~~~~####| \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ | T
~~~~~####| /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ |
~~~~~----/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ |
~~~~~ |
~~~~~ ## /\ _________ ## |
~~~~~ ## \/ # |#######| ## |
~~~~~----------------------------------------------/
~~~~~
Legend:
~~~~ = River
#### = Flat-roofed building
^^^^ = 2-story, arched roof building
/\ = A hut
\/
{ = A gate
T = Josephine's tree
Josephine lowered herself silently from the tree, and began describing
the city. As she spoke, Jeanne sketched a map for the others with the
butt of her spear.
Josephine: "It can be assumed that the two story building is the home
of someone of a higher rank than the rest. I don't believe
that our fellow lazari would be kept in single huts, as it
would be too much work for what may just be grail slaves."
She paused and closed her eyes, remembering the layout as she might have a
stage setting.
Josephine: "I would suggest we attempt to enter the compound from the
northern corner. As we would want to get as close as we
can to the flat roofed buildings that may be where our
friends are being held. By entering on the northern side,
we're out of view of the gates on the east side."
She looked over at the others.
Jeanne: "We are drastically overmatched, if all these houses are
occupied. We must lessen the chances of our discovery by
anyone, lest they call in others."
Jeanne considered the map for a time.
Jeanne: "If we are correct in assuming our friends are being held
here..."
She indicated the flat-roofed building in the northeast corner.
Jeanne: "Then we must draw people to the opposite side of the
compound."
She pointed to the southwest corner, near the River's edge.
Jeanne: "I will start a fire here, perhaps I can even get a sizable
blaze going before it is detected. It will take them some
time and much manpower to put it out, and there will be fewer
people watching the walls where you enter. I will try to slip
by in the confusion and join you, but if this is not possible
my recourse will be the River. If I am lucky I will meet up
with you later, downRiver."
Florence: "I agree that it is most likely our friends are held in the
flat-roofed building in the north-east corner of the
compound. However, I worry that our plan to set fire to
the compound is a bit premature. I suggest we circle to
the north, and attempt to approach the wall first. Perhaps
we can hear something through the walls that would lead us
to our friends."
Jeanne nodded thoughtfully.
Florence: "I suspect that if we can part the ropes binding the bamboo
in the wall at the top, we may be able to force a gap in
the wall that a slender person can slip through. We can
use our fire sticks to attempt to burn the ropes that hold
the wall together.
Florence: "I think Jeanne's plan should only be enacted if we have
located our friends and are certain that we can free them.
Otherwise, such an irreversible action as a fire would be
too impetuous. If we cannot ascertain that our friends are
in the flat-roofed building as we suspect, I suggest that
one of us quietly slip into the city and attempt to find
them."
This time, it was Josephine that nodded.
Florence: "And if we do start need to start a diversionary fire, I
volunteer. Jeanne, your skill with the spear may possibly
be critical in freeing our comrades. I, on the other hand,
have neither the experience nor talent with combat, and
would best serve this adventure by providing the
distraction. I suggest that I light the fire on the south
wall, and then try to distract those who respond to the
fire, drawing them away from the compound to the east. I
will head slightly upRiver for a while, then attempt to
circle back south to meet you outside the glade where we
first appeared."
Jeanne smiled humorlessly.
Jeanne: "I also likely have more experience with the Element than
you. But I take your point."
Josephine again led them through the hilly brush in a wide circle
until they approached the compound from the north. Florence examined
the sharpened bamboo shoots which made up the fortress walls, thick
shafts of bamboo set into the ground and tied together with fibers,
each to its neighbors, about a foot from the tops and bottoms of the
poles.
The others placed their ears against the bamboo and strained to hear
sounds from within the town. They heard faint snoring noises.
Florence whispered to the others.
Florence: "The walls look sturdy, but perhaps they can be breached
yet. We must gather more information. I suggest we
quietly move west along this north wall and see just how
the city 'meets' the River. It may be that a quiet means
of entrance may be found yet."
They slipped westwards, keeping close to wall in order to take
advantage of the shadow it afforded. The wall continued west to the
bank of the River, and the water lapped against its final bamboo
shoot.
Florence made a motion to enter the water, but Josephine put her hand
on the woman's shoulder, and waded in ahead of her, her head barely
above the surface of the water. Florence followed cautiously and
slowly, while Jeanne turned her back to the water to watch the
northern Riverbank.
The swimmers peered around the city's walls, and quickly returned.
Speaking in whispers to Jeanne, they described considerable activity
around a grailstone and a wooden structure which appeared to be a boat
landing. Many men, at least 30, and some women were eating their
evening meals. The men's features were difficult to discern, but many
were armed with spears and daggers, and wore a towel across their
chest and another around their legs.
* * * *
Glenn had spent the afternoon coaching Tjar and Friend at singing with
almost single-minded intensity. When the eventually tired of his
tyrannical conducting, he sat by himself, deep in thought.
Tjar paced around his cell, furiously working at the bamboo bars but
finding them without weakness. He looked about for loose shards, but
found little that was of use. Friend watched with some interest.
Tjar: "I don't know what measure of man you are, but if I break out of
here, are you with me? If so, then search by your cell to see
if I can let you out when I get free myself."
Glenn shrugged.
Glenn: "I'm not averse to escape, but I'm busy right now."
Tjar: "By god, man, busy?! What could be more important than
freedom. It's better to die on your feet than live on your
knees!"
He spoke louder, addressing the other prisoners.
Tjar: "Do any of you speak English?"
Friend shook his head.
Friend: "Only I. These other poor wretches do not share our tongue,
though they seem to understand our captors. I will go with
you when you leave."
Tjar: "Bully! Then make yourself a weapon! We shall be free men again
soon, I can smell it in the air!"
But Friend was watching two guards approach their cells from the
north. When Tjar, slightly frustrated, turned to see what had
distracted his audience of one, his eyes widened.
Charles and Shaka boldly approached the stationary guard on the north
side of the cages. Dressed as guards themselves, they were not
questioned until the reached the north guard, who looked at them
suspiciously for a moment before Shaka's spear pierced his chest and
he fell to the ground.
Tjar, watching, stifled a cheer as the two men slid the guard's body
closer to the cages where it would be less likely to be observed.
Shaka took the guard's place, while Charles searched the man for the
key to the bamboo cages.
The second guard made his way around to the north just as Charles
found the keys, and was as quickly dispatched by Shaka, who slipped
around the other side of the cage to tackle the final guard. Charles
opened the doors to Tjar and Glenn's cage, and, at a motion from Tjar,
sprung the other prisoners free as well. Friend joined the group.
The former prisoners armed themselves from the guards' bodies.
* * * *
The two imprisoned women spent their evening quietly. Hypatia remained
in her deep trance, and Cleopatra spent her time watching the guards.
Suddenly, a woman's impassioned wail broke the night's silence. All the
lazari who heard it recognized it instantly. It was Maria.
* * * *
Shaka freed the imprisoned men, gesturing to the spears and knives
lying atop the fallen guards. Glenn, Tjar, and Friend armed themselves
while Shaka stood guard, watchfully. The other prisoners cowered in
their cells, shaking their heads.
At Maria's scream, Shaka raised his spear, as though to strike. His
eyes narrowed as he gazed to the northwest. Charles inclined his head
in the same direction and spoke to Shaka in Bantu.
Charles: "Freedom, Women, fight."
Charles looked around at the other men, and switched to German.
Charles: "We have freed you, help us free the woman and escape these
barbarians."
Shaka gestured toward the two-story hut to the northwest and shook his
head. He pointed to the northwest and then down at a dead guard, and
gestured "many".
Tjar tested the weight of his spear and looked alertly toward the hut.
His eyes flared, and he spoke in a harsh whisper.
Tjar: "That could be Hypatia or some of the other lasses! We must save
them!"
Even to Shaka, his protest that they could not leave without the women
was evident.
Tjar: "I shall go alone if need be, but they shall not remain captives
of this brute Temuchin!"
Glenn and Friend shrugged. Charles looked first at Shaka and then at
Tjar. Shaka was shaking his head resolutely, and Tjar was just as
fervently motioning toward the northwest.
Of the two, Charles thought that Shaka would make the better
companion, and indeed, that Shaka's plan was probably more sensible.
But he did not want to leave without the women unless he had to.
Charles nodded and Tjar, and looked at Shaka for his reaction. Shaka
frowned, but nodded reluctantly. He stood before the Chinese prisoners
and motioned for them to arm themselves and come along. They shook
their heads and dropped to the ground. Shaka kicked one, prompting an
exclamation of protest from Tjar that was silenced by Charles.
Finally, Shaka fell in beside Charles. Together, the men led Glenn,
Tjar, and Friend to the northwest.
Charles walked confidently but warily, emulating the carriage of the
guards. The other men followed his example, and received a nod of
approval. They slipped between two rows of huts against the north wall
of the compound, and moved west toward the two-story structure,
preferring darkness and shadow where they could.
* * * *
Josephine turned to her two companions, a look of abject horror on her face.
Josephine: "This doesn't bode well. Perhaps we weren't as swift as we
should have been."
Jeanne: "Do you think that was one of our companions? I hope not."
She murmured a soft prayer, and joined Josephine. Together, the two
worked feverishly to find gaps in the bamboo while listening carefully
for further sounds.
Testing the strength of the bamboo of the spear, Josephine slipped one end
into the small gap between two poles about halfway between the binds at
the top and bottom.
Pausing in her work, she spoke in a very low whisper, her words rushed,
confirming the plans already set about.
Josephine: "Once our scout enters, we will maintain the escape hole
until a knock on the bamboo, at which point we will try to
observe with our ears and, if possible, our eyes, without
compromising the safety of any of us. If there is a double
knock on the wall, we will maintain the escape as our
scout rejoins us and we will assume our presence has been
detected and we will follow the plan already devised by
Florence for our escape."
She took a deep breath.
Josephine: "Does that cover all contingencies?"
Jeanne: "I think that if one of us is to go alone it ought to be me. I
might not be as graceful as Josephine or as learned as
Florence, but I'll be able to protect myself better than
either of you would if caught alone. You should stay together
to protect each other."
Florence: "Josephine, you would be better here to guard our
escape. Besides, Jeanne's skin will probably be less
noticeable than yours amid the villagers."
The two turned to Josephine, who looked Jeanne over.
Josephine considered the women's words, and as her glance passed over
Jeanne's body and her own, she decided that the smaller and more slender
Frenchwoman would pass through the bamboo more easily. Moreover, it
might take Josephine's considerable strength to wedge apart the bars.
After a moment, Josephine nodded at Jeanne. She motioned for Florence to
help her, and the two women strained to pull the bamboo apart using
the spear as a lever. They had little success in forming a sizable gap
until Florence singed the upper ropes with her firelighter. They
quickly formed a narrow gap between the fence poles, and Jeanne
wriggled into the fortress. Once she was completely within, Josephine
and Florence released the poles and looked at one another.
Staying close to the ground, Jeanne slipped behind a small hut to the west of
the two-story edifice. Flattening herself against its rear wall, she
eased her head around the corner to observe the compound.
The sound of the scream had brought the camp to life, and a dozen
guards were running toward the northwest corner of the compound. The
two-story building, a bamboo mansion of sorts, was the site of most of
the activity. Modeled after the villager's huts, but on a grander
scale and with considerable, if crude, ornamentation, the building had
a single entrance on the south side. From the entrance, a short man
with a pronounced scowl emerged into the collection of soldiers who
had formed up about the place.
The men recognized the man as Temuchin. They watched him quietly from
their post, seemingly unnoticed in the commotion.
The man spoke in a harsh growl and a rapid voice. He was clearly
angry, but not with the guards, to whom he nodded approvingly,
clapping each on the shoulder. He pointed to two of the guards and
directed them off to the south, and motioned another two to join him
as he re-entered the mansion. The remaining guards returned to the
covered dock against the River to the east, muttering.
After a moment, the two guards left the mansion again, carrying a
woman's limp body.
* * * *
When the sun had set, Cleopatra had paced catlike along the front of
her cage, reaching out every few paces to tug on one of the bamboo
bars as if to test its strength.
She glanced at the still dormant Hypatia, and spoke aloud to herself,
smothering a yawn.
Cleopatra: "I always thought being a captive would be a little more
exciting, it is almost worth the risk of using one of your
half-formed ideas of escape just to have something to do."
After a moment's thought she added sardonically: "The thought of
boring someone to death never occurred to me."
Her eyes peered into the gathering grayness at the sound of Maria's
scream.
Cleopatra: "Ahh, it would seem that our little bird is chirping
again...."
Shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head slightly she returned
to pacing. After a few laps along the front of the cage, she spoke
again.
Cleopatra: "At least it means MY turn at the Great Temuchin will be that much
sooner."
As if in answer to her words, two soldiers approached the women's cells,
and pointed to Cleopatra. The prison guard, leering, moved to unlock
her cell.
* * * *
Shaka gripped his spear tightly and looked at the men.
He considered his options. Escape from the compound was first in his
mind, but the soft-hearted people he had awakened with seemed set on
finding the women at whatever cost. On the other hand, he thought he
could probably take Temuchin in a fight, if the guards didn't get in
the way.
Tjar exchanged glances with Shaka, then turned to the English speakers,
and spoke in a quiet whisper.
Tjar: "Well, men, what shall it be? Who is with me?"
He gestured at the two-story shack. He looked at Shaka, and made an
inclusive gesture, pointing at the shack again.
Glenn shrugged, and nodded weakly. Friend also signaled his approval.
Charles looked carefully at the visages of Shaka and Tjar, and then
back at Glenn and Friend. After a moment's thought, Charles pantomimed
the walk of a guard, and pointed toward the building, looking
officious. As the others watched, he pointed to the west, toward the
River, and held up 8 fingers. He held up 2 fingers and pointed to the
south, back toward their prison, and also toward the mansion-building.
Finally, Charles held up his pinky, pointed toward the building, and
nodded approvingly at Shaka's spear, provoking a quiet chuckle from
the African and an obscure almost-giggle from Friend.
Charles smiled and nodded to each man, and then began to walk toward
the palace haughtily, in a reasonable impression of the guards.
Inside the mansion, the lower floor was laid out as a rough hall, lit
by torchlight and dominated by a large bamboo throne. Stairs in the
northeast corner of the room led up to the second floor. The pair of
guards at the foot of the stairs looked surprised to see the group,
and moved forward aggressively.
Charles murmured "Fight" in Bantu. Shaka nodded.
As the guards approached, Charles leapt at on and Shaka charged the
other. The guards were quickly, if noisily, overcome.
Tjar whispered "Bravo!" to the two men.
Charles: "As the Roman soldiers say, 'Never leave an Enemy behind you,
and never turn your back on an enemy who became your friend
at knifepoint -- an enemy is your enemy until either you or
they are dead.'
Charles motioned for Glenn and Friend to stay at the entrance.
Charles: "If there's trouble, yell."
Taking a torch from the wall and slinging his grail over his shoulder,
Charles led Shaka and Tjar up the staircase and out of sight.
Friend turned to Glenn.
Friend: "If there's trouble? I fear it's too late already."
And indeed it was, for the large group of guards waiting outside the
mansion door had them bound and gagged before Glenn could say
"staccato." They could only widen their eyes in greeting when another
guard escorted the olive-skinned woman, bound but regal in posture,
across the room and up the stairs.
Shaka, Tjar, and Charles reached the second story, another large room,
containing a bed, a table, and some chairs. On one of the chairs at
the other side of the room, Temuchin sat, peering at them in the glow
of the torches. In his hands was a scythe-like weapon with a metal
blade.
The group stared at Temuchin and his weapon, and he stared back at
them. Moments later, a guard led the olive-skinned woman, her hands
bound, up the stairs, and walked across the room to stand by his leader.
Temuchin spoke calmly, and a Chinese woman sitting at his feet stood
up.
* * * *
Jeanne took time for a hurried glance around the immediate area. She
had intended to follow the two guards carrying the woman's body, but
more activity in front of the mansion caught her eye. To her
surprise, she saw Shaka, Charles, Glenn, and a fourth man walking into
the mansion. They were dressed as guards, and moved as though they
were familiar with the path. Charles, leading them, had the same
haughty look Jeanne had noticed in the other guards.
When the guards carrying the woman's body entered the wooden dock
along the River, Jeanne had to decide which way to go. The woman
might be alive; it would take a closer look to tell. And yet, if she
were dead, following her might be a useless act, and would certainly
increase her chances of getting caught.
While she considered her options, a party of about 12 guards
approached the mansion. After lurking about outside for a few minutes,
they entered, and Jeanne thought she could hear the sounds of a
scuffle. She had just decided that the mansion was the more important
aim, when yet another guard approached the building and made her
choice inevitable. He was escorting the olive-skinned woman, whose
mien was as arrogant as Jeanne recalled, but whose hands were bound.
* * * *
Josephine's eyes went wide as she looked at Florence for a long moment
before placing one ear to the bamboo wall, attempting to listen for
sounds of trouble.
Josephine: "We will face away from each other and listen, no? It would
be a pity to have come this far to be captured from
behind."
She smiled brilliantly, but an sliver of fear, thin and sharp as a
needle, remained in her eyes.
Florence nodded quietly. Josephine pressed her body tightly against
the wall, and Florence took up a position next to her, back-to-back.
* * * *
Cleopatra's gaze shifted toward the prison guard. As he moved to unlock
her cell, she roses to her feet and stood to one side of the entrance.
Ignoring the lecherous grins, Cleopatra awaited her release as if the men
were part of an honor guard gathered to lead her to her throne.
The guard bound her hands, and led her out from the prison.
As she left her cell, she glanced at the still-entranced form of
Hypatia, and shook her head.
Cleopatra: "I hope you learn to face the world that surrounds you. At
times, thought is the best action, but one must never
forget that although the spirit can wander and seek
solutions, the body, the part of you that is always in the
here and now is also a tool, and is not to be ignored."
Hypatia slept on.
The guard closed the bamboo door behind Cleopatra, and led her to the
north. Cleopatra walked alongside the guard proudly, and the grins of
the others soon turned to hushed murmurs.
The guard took her to a two-story building in the northwest of the
camp, and led her within. The downstairs was a rough, torchlit hall
with a bamboo throne in the center. The guard led her past a dozen
guards who were gathered in the hall. Glenn and another man were with
the guards, but their bonds and gags prevented anything but wide eyes
as a gesture of greeting.
At the top of the stairs was an large room, furnished with a bed, a
table, and some chairs. On one side of the room stood Shaka, Charles,
and Tjar. On the other sat Temuchin, holding a scythe-like weapon with
a metal blade. Her guard walked across the room and stood by Temuchin.
At the leader's feet was a Chinese woman, who, at a word from
Temuchin, stood up.
Temuchin looked at the olive-skinned woman, who nodded her head in
greeting. He smiled approvingly, and spoke again. This time, the
Chinese woman repeated his words, in Latin. She directed them at the
men.
Woman: "The mighty Khan will permit you to honor your gods before you
die as traitors. By now, the Khan's men have killed your
friends below, and there is no retreat."
Charles frowned and pointed downstairs, toward the entrance. He drew
his hand across his throat.
Temuchin motioned to the olive-skinned woman. She looked from one
group to the other, and then walked slowly and majestically to stand
before Temuchin.
* * * *
Watching her former companions stream into the mansion, Jeanne
concluded that two events might explain their actions. Either the men
had despicably thrown in with the captors, or they had managed some
sort of ruse. No ruse the limp body of one woman and the bonds of the
other, though. Very well, then, she thought, if the men cannot be
trusted it falls to the women to protect their own. That in mind, she
surreptitiously made her way to the door of the mansion and peered
within.
Inside, she could see a party of about a dozen guards, standing over
the bound forms of Glenn and the fourth man she had seen entering with
the others. The room was fairly large, dominated primarily by a bamboo
throne at the north end.
Loud voices rang out from the second floor, followed by the sounds of
melee. Ten of the soldiers charged up the stairs in the northeast
corner of the room, leaving a pair to watch the helpless prisoners
below. Distracted by the commotion above, they proved a careless
guard.
Glenn's eyes widened as Jeanne slunk into the room with an agile
grace, and he touched the other prisoner's arm invisibly. Just as
Jeanne's grail brought one guard to the floor, Glenn threw himself
against the other. Jeanne placed her spear against the man's neck, and
unbound Glenn and the other man.
Glenn: "Merci, amie. This is Friend."
Friend: "Enchante. Thank you for the assistance." He spoke with an
accent that might have been German.
Jeanne motioned them to be silent, and, once the men were armed, the
three edged their way up the stairs. But not before Glenn had rapped
the fallen guard on the head with the butt of his newly-won spear.
* * * *
The olive-skinned woman stood before the man holding the metal blade.
Blatantly ignoring the guard, the Chinese woman, and the lazari, she
calmly looked into the depths of Temuchin's eyes for a few drawn-out
seconds then with great dignity, bowed her head and sunk to her knees
in front of him.
Temuchin nodded approvingly, and motioned for her to stand beside
him. She rose to her feet and moved to his side.
Tjar glared fiercely at Temuchin, and nodded resolutely to his
comrades, brandishing his spear. He cursed in English.
Tjar: "Get away from those women, you craven tyrant!"
Tjar's face took on a ruddy complexion as he stood at the ready,
muscles tensed.
Charles looked at the Chinese woman, and responded to her Latin.
Charles: "If you speak the tongue of Rome, then you should know of her
Church, and that my God, the one true God, knows the heart
and soul of all men at all times. I need not honor my God
in the house of the damned, I need not ask forgiveness,
though I repent before almighty God, the lives of those I
did not save tonight."
The olive-skinned women looked interested at the mention of Rome, but
furrowed her eyebrows at the talk of God. Her eyes were locked on
Charles as he continued speaking.
Charles: "This place, this land that I have been placed upon can only
be known as a test, a purgatory where I may further serve my
Lord. What I see before me is the Devil's own steward,
holding the scythe which cast him free from heaven and the
never ending peace he might have held."
Charles walked towards the bed, moving away from Shaka, but not moving
closer to Temuchin or the others in the room.
Charles: "The one who should honor God tonight is the master of this
barbarous keep. No greater blight on the soul is the
enslavement of other men."
Charles turned to look at Temuchin but continued speaking in Latin.
Charles: "You sir are a tyrant and a barbarian and you deserve this
hell you've created. Die now in it."
Charles barked out the next two words in Bantu.
Charles: "Fight now!"
Charles launched the torch he carried toward the ceiling with an
underhand swing. Temuchin looked faintly amused as he batted it aside
with his metal scythe. It landed on the bed and began to smolder.
Both the guard and the Chinese woman stepped between the ruler and the
charging figures of Charles, Tjar, and Shaka.
Charles faced off against the guard, the two jabbing with spears and
then closing to a fight with their daggers. They warily circled one
another, each seeking the advantage. The guard appeared swifter, but
Charles was the stronger, and after a few feints, shoved the man to
the ground and pierced him with his spear.
Tjar leapt at Temuchin with a surprising ferocity, but was met by the
Chinese woman. Moving too fast to change his course, his spear had
sunk itself into her belly before he could stop and regain his
balance. He shuddered and shook as he looked down upon the woman, and
the color drained from his face as her life's blood drained from her
wound.
Shaka glanced at Temuchin and the room around him. His eyes took in
the details of the surroundings, and he paused for only a moment
before lunging toward Temuchin. His thrust was turned aside by
Temuchin's scythe, but the Khan had to stand to parry the blow, and
the two men faced each other with grim smiles.
The sound of the fighting brought guards from below, ten in all, who
moved into the room with spears and daggers drawn, advanced toward the
backs of the men. The olive-skinned woman retreated into the corner
furthest from the stairwell.
Jeanne, Glenn, and Friend peeked into the second floor room onto a
scene of disarray. The ten guards who had ascended the staircase
before them were advancing, spears drawn, behind the male companions
in the room. Charles was removing his spear from a fallen man; Tjar
was standing pale over the body of a Chinese woman; Shaka was
exchanging blows with a short but powerful-looking man who wielded a
terrifying scythe-like weapon with a metal blade. In the general
confusion, it was difficult to tell if there was one group siding
against another or simply many individuals fighting for their lives.
As Jeanne, with Glenn and the man called Friend just behind her,
slipped up the staircase and looked into the far corner of the room,
they saw the olive-skinned woman watching the fight. She alone of
their fellow resurrectees saw the three ascend to the room, and she
did not acknowledge their appearance.
As if to signal the height of the night's chaos, the bed burst into
flames.
* * * *
Josephine frowned as time passed, a line appearing between her brows.
Showing obvious signs of impatience and worry she turned to Florence and
spoke.
Josephine: "This is not good. Definitely not good. How long has she
been in there?"
She abruptly stopped whispering and shifts from foot to foot while
listening at the bamboo. Then she stepped back and looked over the
wall.
Josephine: "The water. Let's go listen at the water."
She paused, thinking for a moment.
Josephine: "No, one of us has to stay here. Do you think you can pry
the bamboo apart if she were to return?"
Florence: "Quiet! Although I perhaps can manage the wall by myself,
you should stay here with me in case Jeanne needs you.
Bide a while longer."
Josephine: "I can't just stand around here. I have to do something."
Florence stifled a sigh.
Florence: "Very well. Let's open the wall slightly and see if we can
see anything."
Josephine quickly agreed and the two women pulled about the bamboo to
make a slit through which they peered into the camp. Little reached
their eyes in the dark night, but faint sounds of fighting could soon
be heard from above, from the top of the two-story building.
Florence: "Josephine, do you smell...smoke?"
Columns of smoke, rising into the sky from the building, and blacker
even than the night air made Josephine's answer unnecessary.
* * * *
Shaka bared his teeth and glared at Temuchin, preparing himself for
the test of the battle, the guards, and the fire. Grasping his spear
more fiercely and screaming a Zulu battle cry, Shaka braced himself
for the fight to come.
Cleopatra's eyes flickered in surprise at the melee. From her position at
the far side of the room she watched Tjar's spear bury itself in the
Chinese woman's body. Her gaze turned to Shaka as he attacked
Temuchin, and with a rather cool disinterest she took in the rapidly
expanding battle, sizing up the probable outcome.
Tjar cursed at the lifeless corpse of the Chinese woman as he wrenched
his spear free from her belly. He whirled around around to face the
guards, moving toward the fiery bed.
He speared a burning pillow made from Riverworld towels, and hurled it
toward the guards, shouting.
Tjar: "We are doomed unless we overcome these guards! Fight like
heros, my friends!"
Charles stepped away from the fallen corpse of the guard, and his eyes
darted between the now-burning bed, the sound of approaching feet
outside, and the circling figures of Temuchin and Shaka. He caught the
meaning of Tjar's shouts, ran toward the burning bed, and pushed it.
At first, he intended to block the staircase with the bed, but the
appearance of Jeanne, Glenn, and Friend, changed his mind, and, using
the bed, he corralled most of the guards into an empty corner of the
room, blocking them in with the burning bed. As Tjar defended his back
from the few guards who remained free, Charles menaced those behind
the bed with his spear when they attempted to free themselves. The
cornered guards must have preferred to face a fall over fire and
flint. They dove through a window and the sounds of hut roofs breaking
their falls rose above the crackling of the fire for a time.
With the arrival of guards, Cleopatra had sunk further back into the
shadows, but as she glimpsed Jeanne's form ascending the staircase,
her eyes darted back and forth between the lazari and the guards. With
the flight of the guards behind the bed, she seemed to make a
decision, and headed quickly across the room toward Jeanne and Glenn,
ducking beneath the swinging spears. She glanced past them down the
staircase, and then looked back into the room again.
Jeanne gestured curtly to the olive-skinned woman, motioning her
downstairs, and scanned the room quickly. Unable to determine if
there were several small battles or one concerted effort, she chose a
likely target, nearby. She whispered to Glenn and Friend behind her,
and scrambled into the room.
Jeanne: "Follow me!"
Raising her voice, she called to Shaka and Charles.
Jeanne: "Hssst! Behind you!"
She ran at the nearest of the guards, using her spear as a bayonet.
She flinched when the fight brought her closer to the burning bed, and
concentrated her attacks to stay clear of the flame, which had begun
to spread to the walls of the building itself.
While Jeanne and Tjar began fighting together against the remaining
guards, Charles turned to watch Shaka and Temuchin. More than one
wound had been exchanged between the men. Shaka's longer reach and
agility were well-matched by the shorter man's compact power and
dexterity. As the struggle continued, however, it was clear to
Charles' practiced eye that the metal blade gave Temuchin too great an
advantage. Each of the warlord's blows dealt Shaka a more grevious
slash than any the African prince could inflict.
But the flames that devoured his palace were distracting Temuchin as
well, and he saw only a flash of movement when Charles dove at his
feet and tackled him to the floor. The scythe sailed across the room
toward Jeanne, who recovered it, and ushered the others down the
staircase.
Shaka and Charles easily pinned the stunned Temuchin, and looked at
each other. Shaka's hand signs spoke of the value of Temuchin as a
hostage; Charles' growling Bantu suggested that the world might be
better rid of the man. Their debate, though only a moment, proved
academic. The building succumbed to the flame and collapsed around
them. As the others helped them from the wreckage, there was no sign
of Temuchin, who must have been buried beneath the rubble.
Outside, the scene was chaotic, as the men and women of the camp
fought to douse the fire before it could spread beyond their leader's
former palace. Some brought water from the River, while others ran
panicked amid the smoke. The few guards that menaced the lazari were
quickly distracted by the impinging flames.
Jeanne motioned excitedly toward the north wall of the compound and
her words were unmistakable.
Jeanne: "That way is out. Jo and Florence are waiting."
Charles, Friend, Glenn, Shaka, and the olive-skinned woman made to
follow her. Not a few disgusted or angry glances were directed at the
olive-skinned woman, who merely shrugged, murmuring. Charles
translated her Latin for the others.
Woman: "You fight with these."
She reached out with one long nail, and ran it over Glenn's bicep,
trailing it down his forearm until she lightly taps his dagger. She
then reached up and gently ran a hand over the curve of her left
breast and down over her stomach.
Woman: "My weapons are more subtle, yet just as powerful."
Before Jeanne could lead the others away, however, Tjar stopped them
and shook his head. "Hypatia", he said. Surprised, the olive-skinned
woman nodded, and took Tjar by the arm, leading him back toward the
center of the compound.
Jeanne: "I'll go back for them later. This way, the rest of you. We
must flee before the fire is either too well-constrained or
rages uncontained."
If the men who followed the young woman saw her shudder at the thought
of raging flames, they said nothing.
Together, Tjar and the olive-skinned woman made their way to the
women's prison on the south edge of the compound, where Hypatia sat
deeply entranced, oblivious to the noise and smoke. The guards were
gone, and Tjar's dagger wedged open the simple lock of the cell.
Entering within, he put his hand in Hypatia's and squoze it
reassuringly as her eyes opened. Nodding quietly at Tjar and
Cleopatra, she stood up and followed them through the chaotic camp,
noticing for the first time the smoke, fire, and confusion as they
sped toward the northern wall.
* * * *
Josephine took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. For a few
long moments she stood silently, her brown body a statue in the dark.
Opening her eyes, she made eye contact with Florence and nodded
simply. She turned to the wall and commenced trying to open the space
in the bamboo poles again. Her eyes searched about her methodically,
and her ears were pricked for the sounds of struggle or commotion.
A movement caught her eye, and she spoke excitedly to Florence.
Josephine: "I think Jeanne is returning..and not alone!"
Josephine and Florence held apart a section of the bamboo wall. First
through was Shaka, bleeding from numerous gashes and cuts. He was soon
followed by a man who introduced himself with an Austrian accent as
"Friend", and began looking at Shaka's wounds. Charles and Glenn
came through last, and Jeanne, standing within the compound called
through the opening.
Jeanne: "I'll be through in a minute. Tjar went to get Hypatia. I'll
come through when they get here. Take this."
She pushed the handle of a heavy scythe-like weapon through the slit
to Josephine, who took it and frowned at its metal blade.
Florence joined Friend and eyed him professionally. She spoke with him
in German.
Florence: "Doctor?"
Friend: "Ja, but not a surgeon. These cuts are clean, though."
Florence: "I'm an army nurse. Stand clear."
Friend stepped back as Florence looked over Shaka as well. Shaka
grunted disparagingly and shrugged at the medics. Florence smiled
slightly as she concurred with Friend's appraisal.
A few moments later, Tjar, Hypatia, and the olive-skinned woman
scrambled through the opening and the company was nearly reunited.
Jeanne's vault through the gap made their number complete and not a
moment too soon.
Jeanne: "They've got that fire under control, and they're very angry.
I think they dug up that leader of theirs. We'd better leave
this place."
The charge of two score of troops from around the east and west sides
of the wall emphasized Jeanne's summary. The resurrectees fled
northward, along the River, hoping to evade their pursuers before they
could orient on the company. At the River's edge, they saw a large
sailboat.
Shaw sat in his sailboat, anchored to the east Riverbank. He'd
traded two weeks supply of liquor and dreamgum for the boat, which
he'd christened "The Camel", and she'd proved a marvelous
acquisition. He was watching a fortress-like village that he had
passed in the night, sailing upRiver. It seemed to be burning.
He was surprised to see the group of ten men and women fleeing the
fire, and the company of troops from the village forming up behind
them.
The short, boyish-looking man in the boat was wearing a towel
wrapped about his head like a turban, and another about his waist. He
gave a start and turned his eyes from the fire in the compound to the
rapidly approaching group. Grinning broadly, he stood and began
raising the boat's bamboo anchor and unfurling its sail, motioning the
company forward with his arms.
As their Chinese pursuers were not far behind, the ten hesitated only
a moment before splashing their way into the River and onto the
boat. The stranger pointed to himself, said "Shaw", and then indicated
the wooden oars on the floor of the boat. All but the olive-skinned
woman and a dark-skinned woman holding a large scythe with a metal
blade began rowing heartily, and the boat sped upRiver, away from the
fortress-village. Looking back over their shoulders, the group saw the
stocky form of Temuchin shaking his fist in the air until they passed
through a narrower valley and lost sight of him. Resting from rowing,
they continued under sail.
Shaw grinned again. The sun rose.
* * * *
The boat's captain introduced himself as Tom Shaw, using a variety of
languages. He placidly guided the sailboat upRiver, his hand at the
tiller, and waited for the others to speak.
He recognized none of them, and they did not seem to recognize him.
Jeanne took Shaw's presence with equanimity bordering on arrogance, as
if such aid was her right and just reward. Her whole outlook had
taken a turn for the better with the success of the rescue mission.
Josephine looked around, eyes wide, taking in the people. Her eyes
lingered on the injured Shaka, Florence and Jeanne. Shaka seemed to be
watching the metal scythe in her hands.
She handed the weapon to Shaka and moved to sit next to Jeanne. She
spoke quietly to the other woman.
Josephine: "Our plan, did it work? We were so worried!"
Jeanne nodded, flushed with excitement.
Hypatia shivered distractedly as the chill Riverwater dripped from her
body. Although the dawn had a certain beauty, her mind was still
distracted by the shock of her recent rescue and reunion with her
strange companion, Tjar. She moved closer to him, reaching a hand out
to touch his arm quickly but with great solemnity. Her gratitude lent
dignity to her words as she spoke to him in a slightly hoarse voice.
When Florence, listening nearby, realized that they did not share a
common language, she left Shaka in Friend's care and resumed her
function as an interpreter for the others, curious about the newcomers.
Hypatia: "Thank you, my friend."
Hypatia was extremely uncomfortable with the strangers. There was a
palpable tension on the boat which was disquieting and it took some time
before she attributed it to the olive-skinned woman's presence. She
turned her thoughts from this new mystery and concentrated on her
strokes.
Above all else, she needed to find a basis for this strange existence
which she was living. Without a doubt, she would need to exercise some
powerful rite to discover the true nature of this place and her
relevance within it.
Gratefully, she could finally speak with Tjar. He must have been held
with the men she was sitting near now and might know more about who
these people were.
Tjar: "You're welcome, Ma'am, but no true man would have done
otherwise."
Hypatia: "Your companionship and guardianship these last weeks have
surely saved my life more than once. You are not injured, I
hope?"
Tjar: "No, I'm fine. Rough and ready."
Hypatia: "I'm glad. I thank you again."
Hypatia smiled a tired smile, and returned to her rowing.
Shaka grimaced as Friend tended to his wounds. He was quieter than
usual, even pensive. Pulling an oar along with the rest of the crew,
Shaka observed his new companions. The olive-skinned woman elicited
another angry and disgusted glance, and he fingered his knife.
Charles carefully laid his oar down. He glanced at Shaka and the
others who were being looked over by Friend before turning to face
Shaw. He inclined his head in a small bow, and spoke.
Charles "Captain, your timely arrival is most commendable, as is you
willingness to take us away from the barbarian Temuchin. We
are grateful and will help you where we can. The recovery of
our small group of voyagers is a sure sign that God is with
us, and guiding us through our travails."
Shaw: "I had heard of grail slavers holding up in a bamboo fort in
this part of the river. When I saw you fleeing I assumed that
you had run afoul of them and might need a hand."
Charles paused and pointed to himself.
Charles: "I am Charles of Aachen, otherwise known as Charlemagne. We awoke
together."
Charles points to Shaka, Jeanne, Florence, Josephine, the
olive-skinned woman, and Glenn.
Josephine's gaze swept to the unfamiliar faces in the group, and she
introduced herself. She smiled brightly at Shaw.
Josephine: "Hello. I am Josephine. I suppose I was best known for my
entertaining, though I also did other things."
The others Charles had indicated said nothing, by choice or from
fatigue.
Charles: "These others have fled the Grail Slaving Barbarian,
Temuchin."
Charles points to Friend, Tjar, and Hypatia.
Hypatia shook herself out of her reverie and turned an ear to the
conversation around her. With tiring arms, she made another stroke
and watched the dawn.
Hypatia: "I am Hypatia of Alexandria, a teacher and student of
mathematics."
Tjar: "Tjar here. Pleased to meet you all in peaceful circumstances."
Friend: "I have called myself Friend, but my name on Earth was
Freud. I was a doctor in Austria, and a student of the human
mind."
The twentieth-century resurrectees gave a small shock at the man's name.
Charles: "We all awoke together at a grailstone. This is seemingly
strange, though God must have a plan for us. He always
does."
Jeanne paid almost no attention to the passing terrain, concerned
instead with the occupants of the craft. Flush with excitement, she
spoke rapidly in French.
Jeanne: "We must stop this tyrant; his petty world will come to an
end, and his ungodliness will cease. We are a small band,
truly, but see what we could accomplish with even these few
hands? Was it not grand? Would not others join us if we told
them of our honorable quest? We must find others to band
together with us and make us strong."
Charles: "While I believe that part of God's plan must be to rid this
area of slavery, we must seek out food and shelter. Then
search for more allies, before we return."
Charles looked around, then sat down. He opened his grail, and shook
it upside down revealing.... nothing, inside.
Shaka gathered that Jeanne was suggesting a return to revenge
themselves on Temuchin, but Charles and the others were demurring.
Charles: "We need a Grailstone -- perhaps one a little safer than the
last we used."
Jeanne grudgingly agreed. "So long as we return one day."
Florence frowned.
Florence: "First, what's happened to Maria?"
Hypatia looked at Cleopatra, and then, in confusion, at the rest of
the group.
Hypatia: "Is that the singing woman?"
Glenn nodded.
Jeanne: "I saw...her body. There was no life in it."
The olive-skinned woman pursed her lips and tsked softly.
Hypatia turned to her and spoke sadly.
Hypatia: "Perhaps she should have heeded your words, Cleopatra. Or
perhaps she did."
Josephine sighed.
Florence: "After Josephine, Jeanne, and I returned from the river to
find you missing, we spent the night around the campfire.
We met with the Chinese people near the grailstone by the
river in the morning. They are a kindly folk, who provided
us with a little information about Temuchin and his city.
However, they could not risk any outward move against him.
Therefore we crept up to the village at dusk, and sent in
Jeanne under cover of darkness. Josephine and I waited
outside the walls the rest of the night until you escaped."
Josephine: "What did happen in there?"
The others gave a brief explanation in tired voices. The men and women
had been imprisoned in Temuchin's camp, in separate prisons. There,
they had met Tjar, Hypatia, and Freud, who were also imprisoned. The
leader of the village was a man named Temuchin ("Who you saw shaking
his fist on shore," Tjar added) who offered the men a chance to serve
him. Charles and Shaka agreed as a ruse, and later overpowered the
other guards and stole into Temuchin's mansion, the two-story
building. They saw Maria's body carried from the mansion, evidently
victim of Temuchin's notorious practice of taking a captive woman each
night. After freeing the other men, they followed a group of guards
who were leading Cleopatra into the mansion. Glenn and Freud were
captured, but Shaka, Charles, and Tjar faced Temuchin.
Tjar looked over at Cleopatra. She sat at the side of the boat,
trailing her fingers in the water, her eyes fixed upon the depths. As
her companions had rowed the boat further away from the smoke filled
sky, her eyes had lifted in time to see the figure of Temuchin. She
shivered slightly despite the warm air.
Tjar: "What happened within is too long a story to be told without
food. We set the place ablaze, and with Jeanne's help, escaped
with our lives to where you met us."
Shaw looked long and hard at the metal blade, and spoke in a
questioning voice, and held out his hand, slowly.
Shaw: "Another mystery. How could those savages have acquired a metal
blade? the highest technology I've seen has been stone
tools... May I see it?"
Shaka held the weapon possessively, and shook his head. Shaw nodded,
and withdrew his hand.
The olive-skinned woman listened to those speaking and introducing
themselves, yet continued watching the passing shore and made no move
to introduce herself, help with rowing, or care for the injured.
When Charles and Jeanne spoke of returning to the fortress, Cleopatra
had found herself staring at them in disbelief. She shook her head
slightly before studying the land again. When she noticed a grailstone
on the west side of the River, she tapped Tjar on the arm, and pointed
her chin in the direction of the stone. Florence spoke first.
Florence: "It looks deserted. Let's fill our grails and rest there."
Shaw nodded, and the boat put in at the grailstone. The group filled
their grails at the noon firing, and began to eat. They regarded one
another warily, even tensely.
For Josephine, being on the River was another chance to shine. While
on earth, she had never regretted anything in her life. When her
manager stole her money and her friends expected her to be bitter she
surprised them all and smiled with grace and flair.
Josephine knew she was the best kind of friend a person on the River
could have: loyal, kind, and she would give the shirt off of her back
to anyone in need. This group, moreover, had become a sort of
surrogate family to her.
The men, of course, were particularly interesting. Only Cleopatra
seemed to share her interests, and she was a woman to be watched.
* * * *
* * * *
Josephine stretched, arching her back. Out of the corner of her eye,
she noticed some of the men eyeing her dark form.
She looked at Jeanne and smiled, speaking in French.
Josephine: "You are, indeed, very brave. It was wise for us to have
sent you into the walled city."
She nodded knowingly to Florence, her pleasure obvious.
Jeanne sat between the two women, her spirits high as she grinned at
them and chattering in French.
Jeanne: "Well, ladies, our first raid was quite successful. It went
better than expected, no? It seems that several of our
companions recognize the new fellow, can you tell me who he
is?"
Smiling, she introduced herself to Friend, Tjar, Hypatia, and the
boat's captain by tapping her chest with a forefinger and saying
"Jeanne la Pucelle".
Charles had relaxed visibly when they arrived at the grailstone. When
he removed his grail after the noon firing, he heartily dug into the
meal of bratwurst, sauerkraut, and thick black bread that it produced.
Eschewing the cup of beer, he lit up a cigar. Freud appeared overjoyed
by the meal.
Shaw sat quietly as he ate, listening to the conversations around him,
but offering few words of his own. His eyes passed over each member of
the group in turn.
When the others' attention was elsewhere, he carefully extracted the
dreamgum and tobacco from his grail, intending to stash it aboard his
boat.
Jeanne ate sparingly from her grail, and finally held up some of her
food to the others.
Jeanne: "There are others who may need this more than I; please take
it. We are bonded now by more than just the mere coincidence
of waking beside each other. We are a band, and must think of
the good of the whole above our individual desires."
Charles: "Good Lady Florence, would you please do me the honor of
translating the words of our fellow travelers, into the
language of Rome, for me? I would be most grateful."
At Charles' request, Florence agreed to translate between Latin,
French, and English for the party, shrugging apologetically at Shaka.
With the butt of her spear Jeanne drew in the sand a schematic of
Temuchin's compound as Josephine had described it from her arboreal
perch. Charles and the others added details from their memory.
Jeanne: "He will, of course, be wary now. It will be harder to assail his
stronghold."
She turned to the others who were within the walls.
Jeanne: "What are his forces like? Can you estimate a number?"
Glenn shrugged, uninterested.
Jeanne looked at the metal-bladed scythe in Shaka's hands, and pointed
to it.
Jeanne: "Are there others like that in the compound?"
Her eyes on Charles, Florence spoke, first in Latin, and later in the
other languages of the group.
Florence: "My companions, it is not by chance that we all have been
brought together in this place. While some may argue
whether this is heaven or simply the Roman Catholic
purgatory, it is clear that we have been brought together
by the Lord's design, and there is much work to be done
here.
As she spoke, Freud looked vaguely uncomfortable.
Florence: "As our dear Jeanne has so fervently spoken, we cannot stand
idly by whilst monsters such as this Temuchin degrade and
enslave others in defiance of God's will. We are living
testament that perseverance and faith in God will shine
over evil.
Florence: "However, our small group is not enough to carry the day.
We must seek out others who share our vision, and are
willing to march as soldiers of the Lord against the dark
forces."
She turned to Tom beseechingly.
Florence: "Good Captain, we thank you yet again for your intervention
in our time of need. Do you know of any goodly peoples on
this part of the river who would be willing help help us in
our mission to carry out the work of the Lord to stop the
persecution of others and help those in need? We beseech
you to carry us yet further in this quest."
Shaw: "You'll need allies, yes. Alas, it's been some time since I put
in and got to know the natives of either bank. Did you not
speak of a helpful village south of the compound?"
Florence seemed to consider that a moment, and shook her head.
Florence: "We need to seek out a settlement of others who share our
beliefs, who are willing to stand up for the rights of
others, and are willing to march against those who do not.
For this, we need the services of this good Captain and his
vessel, or we must fashion our own transport. I suggest we
rest well today and tonight, and head out upRiver on the
morrow."
The others seemed inclined to stay put, and after lunch, each set
about to rest and recuperation. Charles excused himself and sat by the
river, collecting his thoughts. Freud and Glenn chatted quietly, as
did Hypatia and Tjar.
Shaka took the scythe to the other side of the grailstone, out of
sight of the others, and began to heft it in his hands, testing its
balance. He tried a clumsy swing, and then spun around to look at
Jeanne, who stood watching him.
Nodding at him, she put down her spear and held out her hands for the
scythe. Shaka considered her carefully.
Resurrection had come hard to Shaka. He had awakened on Riverworld a
man of rage. His last living memory was his own murder by his
step-brother, following a year of woes which had pressed heavily on
his mental health. Growing paranoia had culminated in the treacherous
blow, killing him and leaving many things undone.
But the paranoia had nearly left him, and though the barriers of
language and culture made communication difficult, he was freeing
himself from the rigid societal norms of his culture. On Earth, the
gestures that he made were for others to interpret, be they great
feats on the battlefield, or the choosing of wives. Here, he was
starting to realize, he could do things solely because he wanted to.
He remember nothing of any earlier resurrections; that mystery
remained still unsolved. Then this new group, mostly short whites,
except the black woman, so unlike the women of his time. He liked the
group, because he was so different from them. The man Charles was a
great warrior, and perhaps this new man, Tjar, but Shaka knew himself
to be greater than either. As he could not speak their language, he
could not lead them yet. But he could learn from them, beginning with
the woman warrior whose bravery he could acknowledge and understand.
He nodded in return, and handed her the scythe.
Gingerly, Jeanne took the scythe and swung it in the motions she'd
learned on her parents' farm in France, cutting the blades of
grass. After one great swing level with Shaka's chest, she returned
the weapon to the African.
Shaka nodded again, and began to practice swinging the scythe, first
haltingly, and then with greater and greater dexterity and power.
Grinning widely, he sparred for a time with Jeanne, and the two
concluded laughing with battle-joy.
Charles came around the grailstone, looking for Shaka. He found Shaka
and Jeanne practicing with their weapons against one another.
At the end of the bout, Jeanne knelt on the ground, and motioned for
Shaka to join her. He watched as she passed her hand downward from her
mouth to her midriff, and then across her chest from right to
left. She pointed skyward, and said "God." He nodded, and replied,
"Unkulunkulu", when Charles approached, and spoke in Bantu.
Charles: "Hello, friend and great warrior."
Shaka: "Hello, warrior-friend. No fight here. Good rest."
Charles pointed at the scythe. "Good weapon."
Shaka nodded.
Charles: "Brave group, good weapon. Return there and fight."
Shaka shook his head and muttered in Bantu before indicating
the land around them.
Shaka: "Unkulunkulu"
Shaka: "Unkulunkulu good here. Danger there. Stay."
He shook his head again, and walked off to explore the land around the
grailstone. Jeanne and Charles looked at one another, and Jeanne
crossed herself again. She didn't notice whether Charles did as well.
The group gathered together again for dinner, and their grails
produced veal parmigian, spaghetti, garlic bread, and chianti, a new
experience for many of the lazari, but not an unwelcome one.
The unfiltered Italian cigarettes garnered less enthusiasm.
They lit a fire, and reclined lazily.
Josephine ate without interest, mainly sipping the red wine, and
growing sleepier. When she and Shaka began considering the dreamgum
the grails had produced, Charles stood up and spoke.
Charles: "Before we retire, we must choose guards who will watch the
camp, and stoke our small fire. I for one, will not be
caught with my britches down a second time. I suggest 2
guards, each watch, and perhaps 3 or 4 watches for the
night. We will all get less sleep, but we will awaken in
the same spot. The women should not be asked to guard, but
we are short people, so I can only ask from among all of us,
for volunteers to be guards."
He looked over to Shaka and spoke a few words of Bantu, "guard camp
night." Then he held up two fingers together, three times. He drew a
picture of the moon between two suns, and divided the space between
the suns into three segments. Pointing to the last, he pointed to
Shaka. "You guard best, you guard last."
Shaka nodded expressionlessly.
Florence: "My Lord, we all are capable of watch, and I am willing to
take the first."
Jeanne: "And I the last, with Shaka."
Florence pointed to the first segment, and Jeanne to the last.
Tjar volunteered to join Florence, and Shaw and Charles took the
middle watch.
Florence and Tjar armed themselves while the others bedded down for
the night.
Tjar: "A fine night after a fine rescue. How wonderful it is to breath
the fresh air of freedom after the stink of captivity!"
Florence nodded patiently.
Tjar: "That Jeanne, a fine woman, courageous. And Charles, a damn fine
man. Even Shaka...barbaric, but a lion, a lion. Did you hear
how he faced that bastard Temuchin?"
It was a long watch for Florence, and she slept heavily when it was
over, and Shaw and Charles stood at guard.
Standing the second watch, Shaw and Charles spoke quietly in Greek.
Shaw: "The group seems to respect you. Were you a king?"
Charles: "I was Charles of Aachen. I ruled the Holy Roman Empire."
Shaw: "You were well-known in my time. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Charles: "And you? You dress like the Moors, but have fair skin."
Shaw: "I spent much time among the Arabs, and learned many of their
ways."
Charles expressed interest, and the two men spent their late night
hours conversing about the history of Northern Africa. Shaw learned
much about Charles' time, and Charles relished the opportunity to
learn what had happened after his death.
Near the end of their watch, however, Charles changed the topic of
conversation.
Charles: "Shaw, have you...died here yet?"
Shaw: "No, I've managed to avoid that, though I hear that you can
attend your own funeral if you're very lucky. Why?"
Charles: "When I woke up, two days ago, with these others...
I have no memory of the resurrection before. It's all a
blank, and yet I have skills and knowledge from a month by
the River."
Shaw: "That is strange. Did the others report the same thing?"
Charles: "No one else has said anything. But we've been busy."
Shaw: "I'll say."
They woke the last watch and went to sleep.
Awakened, Jeanne and Shaka stood guard over the camp. They spent most
of their time teaching one another words for common objects in Bantu
and French. Jeanne pantomimed a French fable about a drunkard, and
Shaka gave his impression of the other members of their party. The two
stifled their laughter as the sun rose again.
The group woke again. As Josephine stretched langorously, Jeanne
burst out laughing. Glancing quickly at Shaka, and blushing furiously,
she apologized.
Jeanne: "I'm sorry. It's...just such a beautiful morning."
Josephine chased the younger woman to the River where they bathed and
splashed. They were followed by Hypatia and Florence; later the men
too availed themselves of the water before they sat together over the
grail's breakfast, and Tjar stood and opened his arms expansively to
take in the group and the land around them.
Tjar: "My friends, we have the core here of a new nation, based on the
ancient and time-honored principles of democracy and
fairness. It is our solemn duty to try to establish a new
nation... a new America.. on the shores of this great river. By
our endeavors we can make a nation ten times as strong as that
of this brute Temuchin... and, once strong, can begin to
liberate those who suffer under tyranny such as that. Who here
is with me?"
* * * *
While the group waited for Florence to join them and translate Tjar's
words, they spoke quietly to one another.
Charles ate heartily of his breakfast, and smiled at Shaw.
He thought fondly of the talk they had had about history and empires.
He spoke with the captain in Greek.
Charles: "Good Morrow, Shaw! Thank you for the discussion last night,
It was most enlightening."
Shaw: "Yes. That lack of memory you described...This man Freud may be
able to help you. In my time he was known as the foremost
doctor of the mind. If you are willing I would be happy to
translate for you if you do not share a common language."
Josephine was sitting slightly apart from the others, and her usual
exuberance was not in evidence. Jeanne took a seat by her and spoke in
whispers.
Jeanne: "I am sorry if my laughter offended you. It was not my intent to be
cruel."
Josephine replied with a flat gaze and an unemotional voice.
Josephine: "And what was your intent? Friendship? Politeness? Whatever
you do, don't lie and say you didn't intend insult. Give
me at least honesty."
Florence joined them, and Tjar's speech was translated for all but
Shaka. Josephine frowned and shook her head.
Josephine: "What? We recreate the very place I fled from? There are
many things about America that were good, but those few
were outweighed by the many negatives. The lack of
compassion and understanding of different people, the lack
of respect for all forms of humanity, of the arts."
She paused thoughtfully and shook her head again.
Josephine: "I do not know if I would wish to take part in building
such a society. I am truly sorry."
Jeanne: "What is this 'time honored principle of democracy?' he speaks
of? This..America?"
She stumbled a bit over the unfamiliar words, and looked at
Josephine. The older woman, however, did not deign to respond to her
question. Tjar looked back at Josephine for a moment, a stern look on
his face.
Tjar: "Well, Miss. I don't know quite what to say to you."
He paused and looked around, making sure he had the attention of the
others.
Tjar: "In any event, for those you who don't know what I talk about
when I speak of America, disregard the label. What I speak of
is the idea that we must band together and build ourselves up
strong, or else we will not be able to fight that."
He gestured with his right arm in the general direction of Temuchin's
camp.
Tjar: "Mark my words... power like that will expand unless it is met
with more power."
He paused, and looked around again.
Tjar knew that his words would have to be good to carry the day with
the others. And if he could establish his government, his new America,
he knew that others would find them and join them. It was his best
hope to be reunited with his beloved daughter, whose death during his
last year of life had broken his heart, as well as the rest of his
family.
At his awakening he had begun to search, without realizing the
enormity of the task of finding an individual amid the billions who
populated the Rivervalley. Once again, he had a purpose, something
worth living for. He found another when he rescued Hypatia:
philanthropy.
The group's most recent adventures had further revitalized Tjar, and
reawakened the political progressive within him. Only with leadership
and organization could tyrants be defeated, and kept from preying on
the innocents. The group was a mixed bunch, some members far better
men and women than others, but they were what he had to work with. He
steeled himself and continued his exhortation.
Tjar: "Before we go on, let me introduce myself more formally. My name
is Theodore. Theodore Roosevelt. I am from New York City, in
the great state of New York, United States of America. My time
was that glorious era as we bid farewell to the 19th Century
and said hello to the new world of the 20th Century."
Tjar: "What I propose is that we, as a group, create the fundaments of
a government. A provisional government for now. At present we
need do little more than set forth a Declaration of Intent, and
create a 'War Council.' Once a chain of command is established,
we can set out in building up our strength, and attracting
newcomers into our ranks. Once the most fundamental needs are
established, namely security, shelter and sustenance, then we
can establish a more permanent form of government, one resting
on democratic principles."
As Tjar kept speaking, Josephine continued shaking her head, a
half-smile on her lips.
Tjar: "My friends, we are like the ancient Athenians... caught in a
primitive world, surrounded by barbarians. It is our solemn
duty to create a society which will serve as a beacon to others
around us. In our Declaration of Intent, which I volunteer to
draft, we should therefore set forth basic principles which
will serve as the cornerstones of our society. Namely,
individual freedoms, representative governance, and an
executive, checked by the rest of us, who can speak with a
single voice for us, and provide for a common defense."
Tjar: "If you are with me, then I believe our course of action is
this. We must agree to the general concept: that our primary
goal is to establish security, shelter, and sustenance, and
that, once that is accomplished, we will act to establish a
government based on the principles I have set forth. Until we
are able to establish a more permanent government, I propose
the appointment of a war council of five me...persons. And of
that five, one will be chosen as the Commander in Chief. The
Commander will lead with the advice of council. The Council in
turn will seek counsel from the citizenry. Our citizenry will
grow, no doubt, swelled by the ranks of the unfortunate fleeing
tyrants upriver and down."
Tjar: "So, without further ado, who is with me? At least, who is on
the same boat with me? We can refine the course, but I must
know who is aboard."
Tjar rubbed his eyes, a slight sweat running down his face. Despite
the passionate and solemn tenor of his speech, he appeared quite
nervous, and his eyes moved from face to face, awaiting the response.
Jeanne was the first to speak, and spoke forcefully.
Jeanne: "Did you enjoy slavery so much that you would build a home
nearby this Temuchin as he is called? Invite him for supper,
perhaps? I tell you that we must take war to him before he
brings it to us."
Charles stood up and addressed the group.
Charles: "We have journeyed much in life, and now God has seen fit to
assemble us here in this place, so that we may commute our
sins and transgressions, before entering the Kingdom of
Heaven. "
Charles: "I do not know God's plan, but I will say that by showing us
the Barbarian Temuchin, He has opened my eyes to a problem
that needs to be solved. I am not a stupid man. I know
better than returning to the den of an angry lion. God does
NOT waste his servants in this way. It is my honest belief
that God intends us to right all wrongs which we come
across."
He paused.
Charles: "This means both the wrongs which we see around us and the
wrongs that are within our soul. We must take time to
reflect on what in life we have done incorrectly and what we
would change now that we have a second chance."
Charles: "I spent part of last night in prayer, and only understood
that I was among friends, and that I must continue to create
goodness and light around me. I agree with Tjar, here, in
that we should establish a place of refuge and a place of
power from which to challenge the likes of Temuchin and
others like him."
Charles: "I think we should concentrate our efforts for now, on
building a small community and gathering support and
supplies for our mission."
Charles: "This grail spot seems empty and should serve as a base. I
take it as a sign from God that Shaw was present to deliver
us from Temuchin and ferry us to this spot."
Charles: "I think that all of us should spend the day gathering
bamboo, and materials so that we may build a shelter of
sorts to live in."
Charles turned to Shaka, and spoke haltingly in Bantu.
Charles: "Friend Shaka. I desire we stay here, build shelters, and
form a tribe. I lead tribe, but you fight best - you lead
warriors."
Jeanne's face flushed a bit at Charles's words, but she remained
silent as Charles resumed his seat. Shaka, sitting on the ground,
knees raised high, his scythe gripped in his hands, simply nodded his
head. He continued to listen attentively to the speakers.
But with the danger passed, Shaka had begun to feel homesick for his own
people. He contemplated moving on.
Josephine favored the two men with narrowed eyes and a look of
undisguised animosity. Tjar looked concerned, and spoke hurriedly.
Tjar: "We are in agreement on the first premise: that we are in need
of organization in order to make ourselves and others safe. The
precise form of that government can be determined with
deliberation. However, especially given the differences between
us, I do not believe rule by a Prince would survive."
Tjar: "Let us form a provisional government with a Commander and a war
council. When we are relatively safe from marauding harm, then
we can discuss the future."
Josephine stood up and shrugged.
Josephine: "I don't care what empires you want to build, what mighty
kingdoms you want to establish, I only want a chance to
live a peaceful life in pursuit of artistic goals. Maybe
have a family. I have no desire to wear a crown or kill
for the glory of someone who doesn't seem to even exist.
This certainly isn't my idea of heaven."
Tjar almost leapt up when she had finished speaking.
Tjar: "You must clearly see that there is no peace here that we do not
buy ourselves. Not everyone in our endeavor must be a warrior,
but we can bear no slackers. If you aren't willing to pitch in
and help, then I will wish you good luck and good bye, but let
me suggest that this band right here, working together, is the
best hope for not only our future, but the future of others, as
well.
The boat captain spoke, his voice low and soft.
Shaw: "Friends, arguing among ourselves will do nothing other than to
further the cause of our enemy. Let's not fall into the same
trap we fell into so many times on earth. We have a second
chance. Let us do it right this time."
Charles nodded to Shaw, but spoke to Tjar.
Charles: "Tjar, or Tee-O-Door Rose-Avelt, You have many new words that I
don't rightfully understand, but the tenor of your words, and
the emotion behind them I feel is correct. I was a King in my
day, and I made my Kingdom a place of freedom and learning. I
brought many of what you call 'Gover-ments' together, and under
one leadership. I ruled, but was advised by a council, though
not always a council of war. There were many peaceful years
under my rule."
Charles: "I do not propose that I become King here, or 'prince' -- If the
Lord God intended me to be a King, I would be back in Aachen
still. I merely offer to lead in the absence of any other
leaders, so that God's work is done, the Righteous prosper and
the Evil works of Satan are banished to Hell."
Charles: "I merely say this. We must look out for the basic needs of
life right now. Decisions on 'government' and leadership can
be decided later."
Charles paused for a moment, his eyes moving over each of the lazari,
lingering a bit longer on Glenn, Hypatia, Cleopatra, and Freud.
Charles: "I for one, wish to hear what each of my companions has to say
about their current feelings and what they wish to do with life
and future here on this forever river of life."
* * * *
At Charles' words, Tjar nodded and looks at each of the others.
His voice echoed his agreement. Florence too seemed to favor the
idea.
Tjar: "I agree, let's hear the thoughts of everyone else on this
matter, before we make any decisions."
When Jeanne spoke, she seemed puzzled.
Jeanne: "The prospect of founding a community here holds little appeal
for me. Certainly I could settle down and farm as my parents
did, but I do not believe that this is what God has intended
for His servant."
She gestured at Charles and Tjar.
Jeanne: "You wish to rule, perhaps that is your place in His plan. My
place is not to rule, and I have no ambitions in that
direction so you need not fear that I will oppose you."
Her face turned down slightly.
Jeanne: "But I am done with King-making, unless He commands me -- then
I will obey His will for me, as is right. Until that time, I
have decided that I will not put myself forward, but I will
be His humble servant, and not yours. You may build your city
if you wish, but I will not stay. I leave on the morrow, on a
pilgrimage of sorts. For if it is true that people from all
times and all lands are brought together as we are, it is
also possible that people from other times and other lands
are deposited elsewhere along the River. So I go to seek the
holy men and saints that listened to my prayers and
interceded on my behalf. If nothing else I owe them gratitude
and homage for the good they did me in life. Perhaps they
will even have words of guidance for me in this life, and
teach me their path."
Jeanne looked around at the others in the group, and pointed out
toward the River, and then held open her hands inclusively as she
spoke of leaving the group.
Jeanne: "I would be happy to have any of you as traveling companions.
I will leave in the morning, after filling my grail."
Tjar, listening, bit his lip silently as Jeanne turned to Shaka and
spoke slowly in clumsy Bantu.
Jeanne: "Sun comes up. I go. Not stay here, build hut."
Shaka said little, and seemed to listen only distractedly. He
scratched out the map of a small village with guard posts in the
dirt. Shaw seemed interested in Shaka's drawings. Glenn and Cleopatra
said nothing, and the two seemed to be sharing a reticence the others
might have found almost morose in nature were it not for the utter
lack of expression by either.
Freud cleared his throat and took his turn before the others. He
addressed his words first to Jeanne and then to rest of the group.
Freud: "Frau Jeanne, I make no secret: your quest for the holy men,
and you yourself are of great interest to me. It is a drive I
would witness, and to discuss your undertaking would be a
great pleasure to me."
Freud: "I regret having to leave the rest of you for this; you have
been fascinating companions, and there is more about you than
meets the eye. But I also fear that your efforts to build a
new civilization will be difficult, for you will have to
contend with far more than the cruelty or scorn of other men.
You will have to face your own fears, wider than the River,
your conscience, sharper than any spear, your imprisoned
wills, and your secret passions."
Freud fell silent, amid strange looks from the others. Florence,
shrugging, spoke next, nodding at Charles and Tjar.
Florence: "There is little that I can add to what Charles and Tjar
have said, except to say that I stand with them. We must
keep the future of civilization in mind."
Josephine's attention wandered, and she seemed less and less inclined
to continue the discussion. Finally, she spoke.
Josephine: "I grow weary of this speech-making. If we are going to do
something as a group, let us commence. If we aren't, let
us split."
Lowering an exaggeratedly bland look at Tjar she mumbled derisively.
Josephine: "Build a nation, fight a war, make a committee. Blah."
To Shaw, however, who sat listening and sharpening his bamboo spear,
she smiled as she addressed him.
Josephine: "I'll bet you've seen many things on your boat here.
Anything to share with a girl who's far from home?"
Shaw smiled back.
Shaw: "Not as much as you would think, this is by far the most
interesting stop I have had. I'd like to hear about your home,
though."
Josephine nodded and her smile broadened. Tjar glowered and bristled,
remaining quiet only with some effort. Hypatia gave him a strange
look before speaking in soft, measured tones.
Hypatia: "I must agree. There are necessities of life in _this_ world
which we may not ignore. Chiefest among these are
sustenance and shelter."
She favored Tjar with a kind, if wry, smile and continued.
Hypatia: "Security is rightfully a third, but cannot be pursued until
we have given to ourselves the first two."
Her hand rested on her breast lightly as she pointed to herself.
Hypatia: "And once we have established those three, the fourth pillar
and most important pillar is that of Truth. I await eagerly
the time when we may all turn our thoughts to this pursuit."
After listening carefully to the others, Charles addressed the group again.
Charles: "Jeanne, your search for Holy men is most noble. I bless you
and hope that God makes your journey a swift and successful
one. Perhaps you would think of yourself as an Envoy of
God. If you can Find Holy Men, persuade them to come to our
fledgling city and grant us the wisdom of their sage ways --
we are all willing, I believe, to listen to advice from a
Holy source. If the Holy men have a purpose and destination
different from ours, and you wish to return to us, Jeanne,
any wisdom they would bestow upon us, would be a great
boon."
Charles: "Tjar (as you will always be known to me), Our views on
government have much to learn from each other - -the first
lesson, though is in survival. It is perhaps best if I lead
for the time being. Know you, that I am not taking control
of a group such as this -- so full of free spirits, and so
small in number, and so directed of purpose. I merely have a
lifetime of experience in making a town, and organized
people where once only stood grass and stones."
Charles: "Know all of you, that at the slightest question of our
purpose, I will bow down and yield authority to a higher
cause. Be it this 'Demon-cracy' that Tjar proposes, or
something more fundamental."
Charles: "I submit, that foremost and first, we build a shelter and
weapons to arm ourselves. Second, in the coming days, we
scout the surrounding land and learn of both friends and
foes that exist here in this region. Those that are friends
can be recruited, if they are willing, and those that are
foe, will need to be watched and dealt with as necessary."
Charles: "Shaw, Friend and collaborator, We offer you a place of
refuge amongst us, or a port in time of landing. It would
be most valuable to have a man of your skills and with your
water craft, with our number -- It would honor us for you to
join."
Charles: "Hypatia -- Truth is the grandest goal of all, and yet the
hardest to achieve. I beg your patience in the search for
truth -- However, I give you my world as Lord Charlemagne,
that I will speak the truth on all occasions, so that my
intentions be known to all."
Charles: "Josephine....Your direction to future events is focused and
direct -- I honor you and accept your challenge to commit
and finish the tasks that we 'talk' about."
Charles: "Let us continue to discuss the nature of our life here, and
our duty to ourselves and God -- While we struggle for
survival. Let us prepare defense and offense so that we may
surmount any challenge that meets our purpose. Those that
stay here shall work and prepare, those that leave, we beg
only that you carry the message of the work that we do here,
the message of Freedom, and perhaps truth, and a place of
refuge for all that escape barbarism and tyranny. -- Tell the
tale of a great City forming."
After his lengthy speech, Charles spoke more briefly to Shaka.
Charles: "Shaka - Good Defense, Build Weapons, Build Now -- take Men,
Take Bamboo, all will help."
Shaka: "Yes, Charles-friend. Warriors to protect dwellings."
By unspoken consensus the group moved apart, each occupied with their
own thoughts, some in quiet conversation, as they refilled their
grails for dinner and settled in for the night. Charles assigned Shaka
and Jeanne to stand watch first, followed by Shaw and Charles, and
finally Tjar and Florence. He sat down and began to pray quietly.
* * * *
After dinner, Shaw returned to his boat and checked it over.
Josephine, pacing restless by the River, found him there, and the two
began an lively discussion about the Roaring '20's. The others heard
snippets of conversation from time to time.
Josephine: "...Those were the days. I was a dancer then, and an
actress. I loved to make people smile, ever since I was a
child..."
Shaw: "...I served as a pilot, flying planes and sailing boats..."
Josephine: "That's fascinating..."
Shaw: "Do you have memories of your first days here on the River? Or
are yours lost as well?"
Josephine: "Lost, but probably no loss. I can guess what happened."
Josephine wrinkled her nose.
Josephine: "But let me tell you about when I was staying with the
Prince of Monaco..."
Jeanne, meanwhile, sought out Freud. With a deprecating smile, she
addressed him in French.
Jeanne: "I confess, sir, that I do know you, though it seemed that many of our
band recognized your name when you spoke it."
She indicated a number of the 20th century resurrectees.
Jeanne: "Would you tell me of yourself? I am true to my word that I
will accept any as my travelling companion, though I confess
curiosity as to your desire to do so. You wish also to go on
a holy quest?"
Freud: "Not for myself, my dear lady, but to see how you fare on your
quest."
Jeanne: "Why are you so interested in my quest?"
Freud: "In my time, I was a doctor, a doctor who studied the human
mind, to learn how it works. I believe that there is a deeper
part of the mind that people do not experience, but that is
the source of much of our inspirations, our fears, perhaps
even our connection with the divine. Your desire to quest for
the holy fits well with my searching for the source of the
mind's connection to things of the spirit."
Jeanne nodded pensively.
Charles, too, strode to the River and looked up and down its length in
the dying sun, thoughfully.
As night drew down upon the group, they slept by the grailstone. Shaka
and Jeanne stood the first watch, uneventful hours with each seemingly
lost in thought about the morrow. Shaw and Charles spent their watch
in conversation about Northern Africa; Tjar and Florence discussed how
a new civilization might be built on the River.
The morning brought surprises, however, and two different sorts of
unpleasantness.
Upon awakening, Charles announced his plans to organize groups to
build shelters and scout the area. First, however, he turned to Jeanne
and Freud and offered them spears and some of his breakfast to aid
them on their journey. He was stopped by Shaka, who used the metal
scythe to draw a line in the dirt between himself and Jeanne. Pointing
first to Freud, and then to his side of the line, Shaka made his
intentions clear. Freud spoke entreatingly.
Freud: "It's obvious that he doesn't want me to go for some reason,
and doesn't intend to let me. Much as I would love to journey
with Jeanne, I am not ready to face death again quite yet."
Freud looked helplessly at Jeanne and Charles. Jeanne glowered at
Shaka angrily. The tension was only heightened when Tjar lept up and
spoke excitedly, waving his hands around.
Tjar: "Wait, what's happened to Cleopatra and Glenn? They wandered off
hours ago, and I haven't heard or seen them since."
* * * *
Josephine had been thinking about how much she was enjoying her
discussions with Shaw and Florence. She had grown animated and
friendly as she shared stories with Shaw. Her instincts from her
years as a Paris socialite had returned as she spoke with the man, and
she was happy to find her face and body animated perfectly for the
situation. The loud words between Shaka and the others jarred her from
her reverie.
Charles held up his hand and spoke to Shaka in Bantu.
Charles: "Shaka, Friend no warrior. Let go. Bring back other warriors.
No warrior, no good warrior."
Josephine listened avidly, keeping her eyes on Shaw, and speaking
quietly. Shaw translated her words to a group quickly becoming aware
of how much they had depended on Florence's linguistic skill.
Josephine: "A reluctant soldier is probably not the best one, no? If
his heart is not in it, he'd just be a burden rather than
a help. It would almost be..."
She half-smiled wryly.
Josephine: "a version of military rape no? You get the person where
you want them, but if they don't want it, it's no good for
either and often more trouble than it's worth."
Freud: "Perhaps you could tell him that, fraulein?"
Josephine: "Even with my skills of oration, I don't think I could get
through to the likes of him"
She shrugged smoothly and smiled a bit ruefully, trying to inject a bit of
levity in the tense situation.
Charles walked to stand before Freud, and gingerly took his
spear. He held up Freud's smooth hands, showing them to Shaka, and
indicated the muscles of Freud's arms, shaking his head.
Charles: "Temuchin -- Friend was no help then, no help now. But
protect Jeanne."
Jeanne's voice was tinged with bitterness as she turned away, and
directed her words pointedly at Tjar.
Jeanne: "This is your beloved democracy? I now understand what that
word means; I am glad to be learn this new name for something
old. How clever of you to disguise it so."
Tjar: "Blast! You see this splintering! This is what happens when you
act without a plan!"
As Tjar began pacing back and forth rapidly, Shaka looked angrily at
Freud and then at Charles. Gripping the scythe in his hand and
stepping back a little, he glared down at Charles defiantly. He spoke
in Bantu, but his gestures made his words clear.
Shaka: "No. All men are soldiers. We make kingdom."
Shaka: "You say I am General, I say he is soldier."
Shaka moved to stand between Freud and Jeanne, and held up the scythe
in a defensive posture.
Tjar continued to pace about, fuming. Finally, he turned to Charles.
Tjar: "You must not assume you are leader until all have so agreed!
This is the result of not securing consensus."
Tjar: "Either we all agree on a plan, or we agree to split apart. I
will not, for one, tolerate a dictatorship, and I will not
tolerate a group not one in spirit. Savage or not standing in
my way, I will move on if I do not think all who stay are of
one mind as to our plans!"
Tjar: "So, for those who are here, I call a vote. Either we agree,
now, to a plan, or I join those who have left, with any who
care to go with me."
As Tjar's frantic hand motions indicated the sleeping places of the
vanished companions, Jeanne, less heatedly, took up the thread of
conversation.
Jeanne: "Did anyone see which direction they had gone off? Perhaps we should
search?"
* * * *
Shaka listened to Charles' arguments, but shakes his head firmly,
speaking in Bantu.
Shaka: "No. All men fight."
As Shaw began to walk toward his boat, Shaka drew himself to his full
height. Moving toward the River, brandishing his metal scythe
threateningly, he interposed himself. Shaw stopped and sighed.
Shaw: "As for Glenn and Cleopatra, they could very well have been
taken by those slavers while we were busy arguing among our
selves."
Jeanne waved her hands impatiently.
Jeanne: "We must find them! What if they have been taken as slaves?"
Josephine shrugged.
Josephine: "We find them, then what? This... Shaka forces them to
stay? I don't think our friend there seems to understand
the idea of free will."
She smiled brilliantly at the rest of the group, unconcerned.
Josephine: "As long as I have food, shelter, and..."
She smiled winningly at Shaw.
Josephine: "good company, I'm happy enough."
Shaw tightened his grip on his spears.
Since his rebirth he had been caught up in the mystery of the
Riverworld. True to his nature, he had to know how the resurrection
worked, and who or what was behind it. Too many were ready to blindly
accept the "miracle", and to credit it to their own religions and
gods. But this wasn't heaven. Swords weren't beaten into plowshares;
in fact, Shaka's metal scythe was the most potent weapon he'd seen,
clearly not meant for farming. The grail slavers weren't angels
either.
He had thought the group he had fallen in with were nearly ideal for
his purposes. He knew the River would be a unique opportunity to meet
people he had only known through histories. But he craved action more
than talk, particularly talk of states and leaders. He hoped he would
be able to learn more about his companions before he decided to leave
them and continue alone. He steeled his nerve for what he feared was
an inevitably confrontation.
Shaka paused, seeming to think for a moment.
Shaka gestured around at the land around them... and then back up the
river toward Temuchin's domain. He pointed to the muscles of his
arms, and back toward Temuchin's fort. He counted the members of the
group, and then made the same motions toward the other side of the
River, counting higher. Then he returned to defiant waiting.
Tjar looked around the group.
Tjar: "If we do not take a vote now, I will assume that we have
decided to splinter. Once again, any who choose to go with me,
can do so."
Shaw: "I'll stay for now...if we're to find the others."
Turning to Shaka, Shaw pointed to himself and toward the group, and
then toward Temuchin's encampment. He indicated the missing couple,
and nodded at Jeanne. Finally, he pointed to his boat, and himself,
and stood very straight.
Shaw walked to stand by Tjar. Jeanne followed, her gaze fierce and
slightly accusatory, excepting only Josephine, Florence and Shaw. Her
tone was harsh.
Jeanne: "We came to your aid when Temuchin had captured you, we can do
no less for our missing companions. This would not have
happened had we attacked him immediately as I suggested!"
Charles spoke in Bantu.
Charles: "All will find man and woman. All will fight."
Shaka nodded approvingly, and as Jeanne took up her spear and headed
off in the direction in which the missing pair were last seen, he and
Charles joined the group.
The trail did not lead the group far. Glenn's tracks stopped abruptly
not far to the south of their camp. In the grass by the side of the
trail, Hypatia found Glenn's grail. Cleopatra's path continued
further, turned east, and led directly into the River. Puzzled, the
group began to trek back upRiver for their evening meal.
Walking with obviously pent up energy along the river, Josephine sped
up her pace until she was almost jogging. She added a few leaps and
turns, stretching her stride and body as she moved. She wore her
usual deprecating smile.
Josephine: "I guess some things from my past life still hold true."
She grinned.
Josephine: "But having more energy than I can use is a little more
frustrating here than in Paris, I'm afraid."
Shaw: "I had heard of you on earth, I also lived during that time. You
have probably heard of me also. I born T. E. Lawrence, but had
to change my name to avoid all the effects of those awful
cinema adaptations of my life."
Josephine: "You must tell me about it. We've got all night."
The evening repast was another quiet one, tense with the events of the
morning. With the exception of Josephine and Shaw, who regaled one
another with whispered tales, the company wore frowns that lengthened
as the night waxed. The heavy stew and dark bread that they found in
their grails seemed to linger like stones in their stomachs. Few
refused even the cup of sour fermented corn mash.
But then Josephine's eyes widened, and her body shook, as all her muscles
tensed. Shaw cried out in alarm as she rolled her head, and the others
snapped out of their torpor and came to her. Florence held her steady,
murmuring as Freud looked into her dilated eyes.
Florence: "Seizure?"
Freud shook his head at her and turned to Shaw.
Freud: "Did she chew the gum?"
Shaw nodded.
Shaw: "I think so, yes."
Freud: "I have seen this before, but usually only on those who have
been able to chew it and chew it...many times daily. It may be
an allergic reaction, but it doesn't seem to happen every
time."
Freud looked into Josephine's eyes, and whispered to her very quietly.
Freud: "Wake up my dear, all will be well. Wake it, it's all right."
After a few moments, Josephine's muscles relaxed at once, and she
seemed to collapse in on herself, panting. A half-sob escaped her lips
as she struggled to straighten up. She slurred as she spoke, in a
tired voice.
Josephine: "I saw strange beasts, with claws. They were on our
backs. And I saw Glenn, and shadows in a bright white
light, touching the beast on his back. And I remembered
... something from before, men and death."
She sank down into a deep slumber.
Freud held up the piece of dreamgum he had found in his grail, and
then tossed it into the grass, frowning.
Freud: "These drugs, they are very dangerous. I wonder why they are
given to us."
* * * *
Jeanne seemed quite stricken by Josephine's seizure. She shook her
head when Freud held up the dreamgum, and stepped away from the group
for a few minutes. They could hear her murmured prayers. It was
obvious that little more could be done that night, and, exhausted, the
lazari slept, save their guards and Jeanne, who seemed intent on a
vigil for most of the night.
Shaka had watched the turmoil caused by the dreamgum but stayed
apart. On his watch, he silently shifted his sharp gaze about,
watching for invaders or deserters in the lonely dark.
The Rivervalley glowed in the dawning of the morning sun, but even
that golden light did not make clear the plight of the missing
companions or the fate of the group itself.
Josephine seemed more introspective than usual, and studiously avoided
the alcohol and dream gum remaining in her grail, her face still pale.
Looking a little uneasy at first, Josephine spoke to the group, her
voice gradually growing steadier.
Josephine: "I... I don't know what happened. I apologize to all of you."
She looked at the ground for a long moment before continuing.
Josephine: "I don't know what my...dreams? visions? mean, but..."
A pained look crossed her face and she rested her hand lightly on her
chest, over her heart.
Josephine: "I feel that whatever happened to Glenn is... bad, to say
the least. We must find him."
She half-smiled her deprecating smile and added a little less vehemently,
Josephine: "And... I need to stay away from that dream gum."
Jeanne addressed the others next.
Jeanne: "Well. We have little trail to follow to find our friends,
what shall we do next? It would seem we are back to the
question of who will stay and who will leave. If any are
allowed to."
Jeanne: "I have spent much time thinking and praying over this
question, and it seems that I have my answer. While I wish to
make my pilgrimage, now is not the time for that."
She grinned wryly.
Jeanne: "But someone will have to show me how to build a hut if that
is what we are here to do."
Tjar stood steadfastly, a hard look on his face.
Tjar: "First we must agree among ourselves. Let us vote now, and
decide what our course shall be and who shall direct it!"
Charles: "I will agree to a vote, I said so before. I do not change
my mind on such matters. If you all vote (or some majority)
to follow Tjar, so be it. We should find Glenn, for if he
has disappeared than an enemy is close at hand or among us."
Charles: "Building weapons and shelter is next, but again, perhaps
this 'vote' is the next step. I care not."
Josephine: "We need to stick together, build a home, and get Glenn and
the other woman back. Now, I don't know about starting a
government or running one, for that matter, but we need to
build shelter and make a safe place... a haven, if you
will."
Hypatia took a stick and made markings on the ground with it.
Hypatia: "Here, I mark each of our names, in Greek"
She pointed to each word, and to each person, for Shaka's benefit.
Hypatia: "Let us all turn around, and each take the stick and make a
mark beneath the name of the leader we would have."
The others agreed, and one by one they scratched marks in the
dirt. When the last had finished, they all turned around. Beneath
Florence's name was a single mark; two appeared by Tjar's. The other
six clustered below Charles's symbol.
Charles nodded at the group.
Charles: "Very well."
He turned to Tjar.
Charles: "This is an acceptable vote?"
Tjar grudgingly agreed.
Charles: "Then let us plan a course of action."
Shaw: "Well, it would look as if Glenn is either dead or as good as
dead with out his grail. Cleopatra however looks to have either
swam off or been takes aboard a boat, unless she was swallowed up
by some sort of sea monster..."
He laughed.
Shaw: "or river monster as the case may be"
Shaw: "Either way, we know to little about where we are now..I propose
a scouting expedition, by boat, a few hours up river and a few
river down river. We could be back by evening, and it would pay
to know who our neighbors are. Perhaps my self and one or two
others could go, and the rest stay and look for more clues."
Josephine: "I will scout with Shaw."
Charles nodded.
Charles: "Let us split ourselves into groups of 2 or 3 people and
spread out in the shape of a fan, one going inland and one
group along the river, while Shaw and Josephine do the same
by boat."
Charles: "We should return here before the midday Grail has fired, and
compare what we have learned...Then we can build shelter."
Charles: "I was sure that God had placed us together for a plan, but I
was presumptuous to assume I would know God's Plan... I am
chastised. While we search for Glenn, we should all search
our hearts and minds as well, and decide what paths we
should follow."
Charles spoke to Shaka in Bantu.
Charles: "Split up. Find Glenn. maybe Fight Enemy. Eat Food. Build hut."
Charles, and Shaka formed one party, and began to head inland,
perpendicular to the River. Florence, Hypatia, and Tjar made up
another, and walked north, paralleling the water's course. Shaw and
Josephine decided to sail downRiver first, and soon passed Jeanne and
Freud, the third group, who took the southern path.
In this section of the River, the water, though dark, flowed gently
between the widely-spaced shores. Shaw and Josephine watched the banks
as they sailed southward, keeping close to the west bank to avoid the
ever larger cluster of ships docked at Temuchin's village on the east
bank. The light winds were running astern, providing the sleek boat
with extra speed.
While they sailed, Shaw showed Josephine how to handle the boat's
lines, as he called the ropes, and she told him more about her days in
Paris. Neither spoke of Josephine's visions of the night before. As
the midday meal approached, they sighted a village on the west bank,
centered, as most were, about the grailstone. They put in and found
themselves among a group of English-speakers who invited them to fill
their grails and rest.
The two disembarked warily, and inserted their grails into the
stone. When the fire blazed, they joined the villagers for their
meal. A woman, who introduced herself as Lila, asked them from where
they came.
The three groups returned to the grailstone in the late morning; Shaw
and Josephine remained on the River, not due to return until
nightfall. They acquainted one another with their similar lack of
findings. No trace of Glenn or Cleopatra had been found, and their
walks had not taken them far enough to observe other civilizations on
this side of the River. Jeanne observed, frowning, that the cluster of
boats seemed thicker at Temuchin's docks, on the other Riverbank.
The group put their grails into the grailstone and waited for the
fiery eruption that signaled that the miracle of manna would be
repeated again. They found themselves privileged to witness the miracle
of rebirth as well.
A pile of towels sat next to the naked bodies of each of the new
arrivals. There were three men in all. One was a blonde-haired,
blue-eyed man of perhaps five-and-a-half feet, with well-proportioned
features and European complexion. Another was a short Asian man, lanky
of frame and heavy of brow, looking terribly pale. The last was rather
a rather non-descript Caucasian of average height.
As each of the new resurrectees began to stir, they found themselves
faced with an assorted group of three women and four men. With the
exception of a tall, powerful black man who carried a scythe with a
metal blade, all were light-skinned. A muscular man with reddish-brown
hair seemed to be the leader of the group.
The group watched them warily as they awoke, and bid them welcome in
French and English.
* * * *
The Japanese man was the first to awaken. He scanned his surroundings
as he slowly sat up. His eyes lingered on the black man's scythe, but
he remained expressionless. As he sat, he looked over his own body,
and struggled futilely to maintain his composure. He quickly stood
and, saying nothing, moved away from the group, where he sat down
heavily and began to weep.
The Caucasian man woke somewhat suddenly, took in his surroundings,
jumped to his feet, and grinned broadly. As he gathered towels and
wrapped them around waist and chest, he spoke in English with glee and
an almost childlike excitement.
Benjamin: "Incredible! I could scarce have credited it."
Finally, the handsomest of the new lazari sat up and slowly studied his
surroundings and the people before him. Tresses of his hair fell on
his shoulders as he calmly regarded his nakedness, stood, and wrapped
a towel around his waist.
Florence gave the weeping man as brief sympathetic look before she
addressed the other two men.
Florence: "I bid you welcome to our little community. My name is
Florence. We will not harm you."
The Caucasian's eyes scanned quickly over his newfound
companions, pausing somewhat longer on the females present, before he
spoke again, also in both French and English, grinning all the
while.
Benjamin: "Greetings and felicitations, my fellow immortal Souls. My
name is Benjamin Franklin, a Printer from Philadelphia.
Some of you may have heard of me, if your Origin postdates
my own. If so, I would delight to learn more of my Future.
I have already heard much during my Days in this Place,
especially about Science and Politics, but there is ever
more to learn, especially as there seem to be no Books
here! I would be glad to make your Acquaintances and
perhaps accompany you as I am not familiar with these
Surroundings and would take it as a great Kindness if you
could assist me. I would do all within my Powers to assist
you in your Endeavors in recompense, of course."
A wide-eyed woman answered.
Jeanne: "Bonjour, monsieur Benjamin. You speak French quite well,
though I suspect it is not your first tongue, oui?
Nevertheless, it trips happily enough from your tongue, and
you do it less harm than some might. I bid you welcome in the
name of the Almighty."
Benjamin: "You are quite right, my dear, in that English is not my
first Tongue. I learned that most beautiful of Languages
towards the middle of my Life, but only came to use it much
upon moving to Paris, where I lived out most of the end of
my Days."
Benjamin: "Now then, I have introduced myself, but there is no one to
properly introduce you to me, so would you be so kind as to
introduce yourself?"
When the woman introduced herself as Jeanne la Pucelle, both the handsome
European man and the Japanese man, though still apart from the group,
gave a start at her name.
Upon hearing French and English the handsome man replied, switching
back and forth between the two languages.
Louis: "Hello, my name is Louis-Antoine-Leon de Saint-Just. It is a
pleasure to meet you under these...strange circumstances. How
did we come to be here?"
Freud looked at Louis strangely.
Freud: "My name is Sigmund Freud. You say you do not know how you came
to be here? You do not recognize this valley? And you say you
are Louis de Saint-Just? The Angel of Death of the French
Revolution?"
Louis: "I was a politician and militia commander for the Republic of
France. I believe that law should yield nothing to opinion and
everything to ethics, and I have always acted on my beliefs,
Monsieur Freud."
During Louis's answer, the Japanese man returned, reasonably composed,
and introduced himself, in Japanese.
Mishima: "What is this? What brings me here?"
The others shook their heads sadly, but brightened when he continued
in English.
Mishima: "I am sorry. But what is this place? The last I . . ."
He trailed off.
Mishima: "What brings me here . . . like this?"
As he spoke he gestured at his body, then seemed to abruptly realize his
nakedness and quickly covered himself with the towels, like the
others.
Mishima: "I am, or was, Yukio Mishima. A . . . "
He paused and drew himself up.
Mishima: "A man of Japan."
Florence: "Are you all right?"
Mishima: "It was nothing to be concerned about. Just . . . shock."
Mishima turned to Louis, and a small smile crossed his face.
Mishima: "I think I've heard of you."
Louis: "Oh? Perhaps you remember the Republic more fondly than
Monsieur Freud does?"
Mishima: "To me, you are a part of history. You had some interesting
ideas, and I will not argue with your opinions about
law. But I am not sure that this is the best time to pursue
them."
Mishima grinned weakly.
Mishima: "Then again, we may have plenty of time."
Louis: "But how did we come here?"
Jeanne: "Many of us awoke together, beside such a grailstone."
She indicated the remaining original group.
Jeanne: "Others were rescued from a slaver's compound, and another was
a freeman who joined us on the River. How is it that you have
come to be born here? Now? We come from different times, and
different lands, though all but one of us can share language
thanks to Florence, who interprets for us."
Benjamin: "I can perhaps be of Assistance, as I speak English, French,
Spanish, Italian, and Latin, to varying Degrees."
Benjamin continued with a mischievous grin.
Benjamin: "People commonly speak of Ten Commandments. I have been
taught that there are twelve. The first was, 'Increase
and multiply and replenish the Earth'. The twelfth is, 'A
new Commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another'.
It seems to me that they are a little misplac'd, and that
the last should have been the first. However, I never made
any Difficulty about that, but was always willing to obey
them both whenever I had an Opportunity. I was abed,
obeying these First and Twelfth Commandments, though it
must be admitted, disobeying the Eighth and Eleventh, when
that Neighbor whose Wife it was I coveted found me there,
and disobeyed the Seventh, and now I am here. Ah, it is good
to be young again!"
Shaka looked the newcomers over with a practiced eye, and nodded
briefly. He used his scythe to point to the the group's spears and to
the trees near their grailstone, and spoke in Bantu. The man who
seemed to be the group's leader translated.
Charles: "Welcome. I am Charles of Aachen, leader of this group by
consent. This man, Shaka, suggests we build shelter and
weapons. He will instruct those who are not proficient in
the use of spears."
Mishima's gaze followed the Shaka man and his scythe, but he remained
silent.
Tjar turned to Charles, a stern look on his face.
Tjar: "All right, then, your role as provisional leader is legitimate,
and I will respect that, despite my grave misgivings. I'm ready
for training and building."
As the day wore on and the group ate their mid-day meal of provencal
cuisine, the new lazari heard about Shaw and Josephine, who were on a
scouting mission by boat. Jeanne drank the full-bodied red wine, but
kept the dreamgum and cigarettes in her grail.
She remembered her conversation with Freud during their scouting hike
the day before.
Jeanne: "I saw before that you threw away the drug that caused
Josephine's seizure."
"Yes," Freud had said.
Jeanne: "It is dangerous stuff, I know, but you must not discard it so
casually. It has proved useful in the past as a commodity to
barter. We may find a people to exchange goods with and the
gum is valuable due to its limited, and consumable nature. I
myself tried it once; I did not have the reaction that
Josephine did, but it was unpleasant enough. I had hoped --
there were those in my time that used such things to prompt
spiritual visions. I thought, perhaps, in this strange land
that it would help me regain my visions... but it appears
they are lost to me forever."
Freud: "I have had much experience with these drugs which affect the
mind. They may bring you visions, but visions are not always
truths. And once the visions are tasted, one may easily come
to rely upon them, to need them."
Jeanne had decided to keep her own counsel, but to stay clear of
the dreamgum for a time.
After lunch, Benjamin took a swim, and Jeanne spoke with Louis.
Jeanne: "Enchante', monsieur. My name is Jeanne la Pucelle, from
Domremy. I am unsure what you mean by 'The Republic of
France', but I welcome you in God's name to our little band."
Louis: "Thank you, Mademoiselle. Great things happened in France of my
day. I will tell you of them later."
Tjar and a woman, Hypatia, began building simple lean-to shelters.
Jeanne soon joined them, working on a wattle hut with a thatched
bamboo roof. The others followed, and encouraged the newcomers to
build as well. Benjamin threw himself into the project with vigor, and
even Shaka admired the sturdy construction of his hut.
By the evening grailstone firing, the huts were complete.
* * * *
Josephine smiled widely, but stood close to Shaw.
Josephine scanned the faces of the people near the grailstone for the
familiar faces of Glenn and Cleopatra and, almost in a secondary
manner, any of her friends from Earth. She saw neither. Shaw also
watched for the missing pair, and for the spectre of grail slavery,
but was likewise disappointed.
During the meal she ate little, saving most of her food and quickly
handing her dreamgum to Shaw, loathe to touch it for longer than
absolutely necessary. He nodded and tucked it away.
Looking over the woman, she nodded and smiled in a friendly way.
Tilting her head to one side, Josephine rested one hand on a hip and
gestured with the other as she spoke.
With a slow smile and voice as warm and smooth as honey she introduced
herself.
Josephine: "Josephine Baker, formerly of Paris."
She flashed a smile at Shaw and added:
Josephine: "Early to mid 1900's."
Shaw: "I'm Tom Shaw, same period."
Josephine: "And you are?"
The two passed a pleasant meal with Lila and a few of the others. The
village seemed to be small, but growing, and seemed to operate on a
principle of sharing labor and the fruits thereof. The people did not
seem to eat from their individual grails, but surrendered their
products to a communal hut, and chose their meals from there. Shaw saw
little danger, and the two left in the afternoon.
As they sailed back past Temuchin's camp toward their own encampment,
they noticed agitated activity around the docks.
* * * *
Hypatia was the first to sight Shaw's boat, and hailed it. The boat
pulled in to the Riverbank, and Shaw and Josephine came ashore, just
in time for the evening meal. They noticed the newly-built huts, and
were introduced to the three newcomers, Louis de Saint-Just, Benjamin
Franklin, and Yukio Mishima, who, Jeanne explained, had been reborn at
their grailstone that morning.
The group sat about the fire and regarded one another over
batter-covered meat which Mishima delighted informed them was
"tempura". Charles asked Shaw and Josephine what they had seen in
their mission to the south.
* * * *
Shaka began chewing on a piece of dreamgum. Josephine shivered.
The gum left Shaka with a flat, empty feeling. As Shaw began to speak,
however, Shaka was amazed to discover that he was hearing all the
voices in Swahili, and could understand them all perfectly.
Shaw: "Not much to the south. A fairly friendly community. They share
food and labor. But Temuchin's camp is becoming very active at
the docks. Where did all the huts come from?"
The others explained that they'd spent the day building the small
huts. Benjamin seemed particularly excited by the work, and sketched
out plans for sewage systems and roads in the dirt by the fire.
Benjamin: "After all, we are small now, but so were Boston, and
Philadelphia, and Manhattan, and Charlestown. The future
holds both more and less than we dream it may. I've learned
such amazing things in the last month."
His eye fell on Josephine, and he grinned, murmuring.
Benjamin: "Whose little girl are you?"
Josephine offered a slow smile as her gaze takes in Benjamin's form.
With the delicate arching of an eyebrow she spoke in a smooth,
well-modulated voice though her tone was a bit dry.
Josephine: "You assume I belong to someone other than myself?"
After a few moments of silence, he broke out into a hearty guffaw.
Benjamin: "But of course not, my dear, why would I think that? You
are quite clearly all grown up! Enchante. Benjamin
Franklin."
He kissed her hand.
She half-smiled and took the time to thoroughly peruse the other
lazari. If her steady gaze elicited the shadow of a blush or squirm
from any of the men, they hid it well.
Benjamin looked amused. In response to her glance, he posed,
alternately putting one hand on his hip, then the other, upwards with
elbow bent.
Louis was speaking to himself, incredulously.
Louis: "A part of history...a part of history."
His eyes flitted about, leaping from one person to another, an intense
look of concentration on his face.
Louis: "What has happened to me?"
He addressed Jeanne in French.
Louis: "Mademoiselle. Louis de Saint-Just, Decize, France. I...I do
not know how to ask you this, but, you are Jeanne d'Arc, burnt
at the stake in 14...30 or so? ... my feeble mind cannot grasp
what is happening -- happened -- to me."
Louis points to Mishima.
Louis: "The Japanese man says that I am a part of history, just as you
are a part of history to me. How can this be so? I am
dead--guillotined in Paris, 1794."
Before she could answer, he had turned to Benjamin.
Louis: "Monsieur...you died just a few years before I did. 1790, I
believe. How can you know this place?"
Benjamin replied with a bewildered look.
Benjamin: "Yes, Louis, I did die a few years before you, but we were
reborn at the same time here -- as is everyone here. 35
days ago, by my Reckoning. Do you not remember the last
month? You must have been reborn with us all, then died
again to be reborn again this day."
His eyes returned to linger on Josephine.
Charles took careful note of the conversation. How could Franklin
remember his past lives here on this River of purgatory. None of the
others in the group had indicated that they could remember anything
but their life on earth. What purpose might such memory serve in God's
plan?
Louis seemed not to hear and addressed them all again.
Louis: "Why are you making spears? Are we not all dead?"
He grabbed his own arm, squoze firmly.
Louis: "This is not an ethereal body. Some how I -- we -- have been
reborn. Who are we at conflict with?"
Benjamin: "You are an immortal Soul, but here in this Land of immortal
Souls, you have a Body. In your past life, your Body had a
Soul, so why not in this life, your Soul a Body?"
Benjamin: "And must we always be in Conflict with someone, man?"
Louis: "Oh! But for the volume of questions I have!"
Jeanne: "Sir, there are many things here we do not understand. I beg
you to calm yourself, and place your trust in God, whose ways
are not our ways, and whose reasons are not our reasons. All
will be revealed, in time. For now, we must be as children,
accepting that which our Father gives us, and questioning it
not."
Mishima stood and slapped a hut with his hand, hard enough that a
bruise began to form almost immediately.
Mishima: "This, Louis! This is how we know we are real. We can
work, we can change our world, we can feel pain. How, I
don't know. You were guillotined nearly 200 years ago, for
doing what you believed right for your people. The last I
knew, I died, killed myself, in the name and cause of Japan
and the emperor. I remember the pain, the blood, that
clumsy fool Morita unable to do his simple part, it was real
-- but here we are. I know I died, but I cannot believe
that this is an afterlife. I cannot have died a warrior and
be doomed to an eternity in this body -- that would be too
cruel a jest. And here, we see Benjamin Franklin, who says
he's died again. What does that mean? Can we not die? Do
we exist forever here? I woke up with you, but I know what
this grail on my arm is."
Mishima pointed to Freud.
Mishima: "Him! He died when I was a child, and remembers you."
His arm moved to Jeanne, and he paused, then cries.
Mishima: "Her! You know she lived and died before you! Yet we are
here and young."
Mishima turned to Benjamin, and grew suddenly calm.
Mishima: "You. You ask about conflict. Didn't you learn that in your
lifetime? Yes, we are in conflict with someone. Louis
knows that. We just don't know with whom."
Indicating Shaka, Mishima added quietly:
Mishima: "He might know. I'm not sure anyone else is trying to find
out."
He sank back down to the ground, spent.
Louis looked at Freud.
Louis: "You speak as if you know me, with contempt carried clearly in
your voice. Speak of what grave actions I have done -- I wish
to have this argument settled."
Louis: "Who else wishes to judge me?"
Charles stood and addressed Benjamin, Mishima, and Louis.
Charles: "You are welcome here in our group. We ask that you share in
common duties of guarding, building and group defense if
necessary. If this is not acceptable, you are free to leave
and seek your fortune elsewhere."
Charles: "I accepted the position of temporary leader by a vote. The
vote was not my idea. I will work for the benefit of all."
Charles: "For now, before nightfall, we should complete the work on
the huts. It would be best for each to have their own place,
or place for couples to have privacy. But let us build one
common hut as well. For security and defense."
He spoke to Shaka in Bantu.
Charles: "Shaka, 1 central hut - Defense. Other huts - Private. New
people help if stay. Else they leave and go away."
T.R. shook his head vigorously while Charles spoke. He started to
blurt something out, but then caught himself himself and waited his
turn.
T.R.: "And how would such a hut be defended? I respectfully suggest
such a hut would be a potential prison and grave, rather than a
benefit. Far better to build a bully wall!"
Charles: "That might come next."
Charles turned his attention back to the group.
Charles: "We have lost two friends this day past, but have gained
three new ones. We must continue to look for Glenn and
Cleopatra, but after this much time, I fear that they will
not be among us. Cleopatra seems to have left on her own,
since her steps do not indicate that she was dragged or
forced, nor accompanied by other steps of men. Glenn has
lost his grail, his link to food, and may perish in its
absence."
Charles sipped the cold rice wine from his grail.
Charles: "We should construct the common hut, then spend time tomorrow
searching more of this area around us. We must learn more of
the land we are building homes in."
Shaw nodded. He had finished his mean and was concentrating on
crafting bamboo hooks and attaching them to a thread from his towel.
Shaw: "I'm prepared to sail upRiver tonight, and to return by
breakfast. My hut can wait until tomorrow."
Freud: "If it's to be a common hut, we should build it in common."
Charles nodded.
Charles: "Better to scout in the daylight."
Together, the lazari soon erected a larger communal hut, sufficient for
perhaps 20 people to meet in conference. Shaw and Benjamin each proved
to be fertile sources of architectural suggestions to strengthen the
structure.
When the hut was complete, Shaw built himself a lean-to near the
others' huts. Only Josephine was without a hut. Florence offered to
share hers for the night.
As the moon rose, Charles knelt to pray, and Shaw tried his hand at
fishing by the Riverbank without success. Jeanne had collected some
bamboo pieces and lashed two larger pieces together at right angles
with woven grass. Charing another piece in the first, she began to
draw upon one of the other bamboo pieces. After a few moments, she
retired to her hut, frustrated.
* * * *
* * * *
Mishima seemed to be consciously trying to form impressions
of his fellow lazari. He obviously approved of Shaka's warrior
stature and Louis' history and dedication. He didn't seem to think
much of Benjamin or Jeanne, but watched them as he did the others.
Just before bedtime, Charles and Shaw held a whispered conversation,
and Charles called the group together.
Charles: "We must set watches for the night. How about Shaw and Louis
first, then Benjamin and I, then Florence and T.R.?"
Louis acknowledged silently with a nodded of his head and the others
gave their agreement. They retired to their huts for the night, Shaw
and Louis taking up position outside the communal hut. Josephine
flashed a smile at Benjamin's offer to share lodging, but nonetheless
settled herself in Florence's hut.
Returning to her hut, Jeanne hung the bare cross on one wall, over the
head of her 'bed' of grass spread to one side. She prayed, facing the
cross.
Jeanne: "... But God will break you down for ever;
he will snatch and tear you from your tent;
He will uproot your from the land of the living...."
At the second watch, Benjamin and Charles conversed with one another
in Latin.
Benjamin: "This is truly fascinating. In all my Travels in this
World, one Fact which has been always true was that all
People were born at the same time, no matter when they
died. But mayhap that was merely the place I was. And the
rest of you: how many days since you awoke to the River?
Have any but I died here?"
Charles: "I can not speak for all the others. I, however, awoke some 5
days ago, with no memory of any previous life on the
River. And yet, I knew immediately what the grails were, and
their function. I knew how to life here; but not what had
come before."
Benjamin: "Amazing."
The two spent the rest of their watch happily reviewing for one
another their respective times and ages.
The night seemed to proceed uneventfully.
Rising early in the morning, Jeanne prayed again before emerging from her hut.
Jeanne: "Have mercy on me, O God,
according to thy steadfast love;
according to they abundant mercy
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!..."
After an hour of prayers, she emerged from her hut as the first fires
of dawn had begun to light the River. Her step sure, she bathed in the
River, and then, picking up two pieces of bamboo, she returned to the
common hut to await the others.
The group slowly filed into the common hut. Jeanne, already there, was
attaching two pieces of bamboo at right angles.
Mishima entered, his manner relaxed, almost jovial -- with neither the
quiet brooding nor the explosive anxiety he previously displayed. He
glanced at Jeanne's work.
Jeanne tilted the piece she was working on, the larger bamboo, on
which she was again attempting to paint a face. She spoke French with
a vaguely self-mocking tone.
Jeanne: "Wretched, is it not? You aren't, by chance, an artist?"
Mishima shook his head at her French, just as Shaw strode in and interceded.
Shaw: "She's asking if you were an artist."
Mishima: "Not a painter."
Louis, Benjamin, and Freud entered together, Louis talking.
Louis: "... not what I expected upon my death. Benjamin says I am
reborn. So be it. I am reborn. I know nothing of this
place, of that I give you my word."
Freud nodded and rubbed his bare chin with his hand. Shaw responded.
Shaw: "I have not yet had the misfortune to die yet here, but I have
heard that one's death is not permanent, as Benjamin here
says. I also remember waking on the shore of this river the
same time as he does, and as far as I have been able to tell
that is how it is elsewhere. But, the River is long and I have
only seen a small part of it, perhaps it is different
elsewhere. I do find it strange though that our memories of it
differ...but then, what is life with out mystery ..very dull
indeed wouldn't you say?"
Josephine smiled at Shaw's statement as she walked in.
Josephine: "Oh, indeed."
Benjamin grinned and bowed to Josephine, winking from his left eye.
Charles and Shaka arrived, and Shaw addressed his next statement to
them.
Shaw: "I'd planned to head upRiver for a ways after breakfast and be
back by lunch."
Louis: "I should like to go with Shaw. I am experienced in warfare,
and am knowledgeable of reconnaissance."
Josephine also volunteered to travel again with Shaw, arguing
that she had experience with the boat.
Shaw: "I'll take you both, then."
Shaw: "For those new here, you may wonder what we are doing, seemingly
preparing for war. Well, we are preparing for war. For that is
what is will eventually come to, unless we leave now and not
look back, something which, at the moment I am not planning on
doing. You see, there is a encampment of slavers a ways
downRiver, and they attempted to enslave a number of the group
here. In the process of escaping they caused quite a bit of
damage and managed to relieve their chief of that metal scythe
that Shaka over there is holding. So you see, they are bound to
come after us as soon as they learn we are here, unless we go
after them first."
Mishima, Louis, and Benjamin nodded their understanding.
Shaka spoke up, and between Charles and Shaw, the others could
converse with him.
Shaka: "Must go north. See the people there. Must gather them too
us. We too small. I lead, no fight. Need two men. Stuffed
chest one and yellow one. Where is stuffed chest one?"
Seeing himself indicated, Mishima nodded to Shaka, approvingly. They
all looked up as Hypatia walked in. The look on her face made them
shiver. As she spoke, Shaw translated her Greek.
Hypatia: "I had a dream...There were five people. Three men, one
red-haired, one like Mishima but with old, old eyes, one
like Shaka. Two women, one with yellow hair and one with no
hair at all. They wore robes and necklaces with a little
snake biting its tail. The bald woman said, 'I fear they are
growing together, rather than apart. Something must be
done.' The Asian man said, 'Temuchin should be ready
tonight.' The black man replied that he did not like to rely
on such crude flesh, and the blonde woman said, 'If not from
without, from within.' They all turned to the red-haired
one, but he stayed silent, and I awoke in fear."
As Shaw stopped translating for the others, Charles looked around
curiously, and Shaka repeated his earlier question.
Shaka: "Where is stuffed chest one?"
Charles: "Has anyone seen Florence and T.R.?"
The group left the hut, a sinking sensation filling their hearts.
A single set of tracks led away from the communal hut toward
the western hills, but stopped 50 meters from the encampment.
Florence and T.R. had vanished without a trace.
* * * *
* * * *
Charles appeared agitated for the first time.
Charles: "We now have lost two more of our group and we know not the
source. We must move aggressively and quickly -- but without
chaos."
Charles: "Florence and Tjar are very important people, as were Glenn
and perhaps Cleopatra. We must find out where they have been
taken, and who is responsible."
Charles: "From the dream that Hypatia has reported to us, if dreams be
true, and here we must consider that there are more players
than just ourselves, That we are amidst some version of a
Greek Tragedy and we are merely players in this place. I
for one, will not submit my Will to any other than God's own
design, and this affair does not ring of God's Plan."
Shaw: "Dreams? Well..perhaps. Its no stranger than finding oneself
young and healthy again after dying. Perhaps Dr. Freud would
have insight into this matter?"
Freud spoke up hesitantly.
Freud: "While your spirit is commendable, my experience suggests that
dreams say more about the dreamer than that which is dreamt."
Mishima tentatively questioned the group.
Mishima: "Some of you look like you know this 'Temuchin' from
Hypatia's dream. Who is he? Is he an enemy?"
Hypatia explained.
Hypatia: "He's a slaver. He takes men for their grails and their
backs, and women for other purposes. T.R. and I were his
captives until we were freed by the others, some also
captive, and others working from without his fortress on the
far side of the River."
Charles: "They killed George in their first raid, and captured many of us."
Jeanne: "And Maria never returned. I saw her body."
Benjamin: "Could Temuchin be somehow responsible for these
Disappearances? Those who vanish without leaving
Footprints might disappear by being... killed, and their
Bodies being sent to another Place to awaken, as mine was.
Would Temuchin and his men be willing to do such a thing?"
Louis's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched into tight balls, and his
back straightened into a iron bar. He hissed through clenched teeth.
Louis: "Slavers! Death would be too good for them. No man holds
another in bondage."
His face gradually composed itself into a look of resolute purpose,
a grim but satisfied smile spreading across his lips.
Louis: "We must go and see if the slavers have captured T.R. and
Florence. We should commence reconnaissance on their
encampment as soon as it is possible. We have no hope of
winning any conflict without intelligence."
His eyes aflame, Louis looked at the group.
Louis: "We cannot leave our comrades to live on their knees!"
Mishima: "Louis is right. We must assume our enemies are responsible
for the disappearance."
Shaw murmured to himself thoughtfully.
Shaw: "Always at night...why does it come at night? Does it fear us or
merely wish to stay unseen...or perhaps it seeks to cause fear
and dissension..."
Shaw: "What ever the matter, we have one enemy we know, and we know
where he is. I say we take the fight to him. I'm sure this is
the last thing they would expect, surprise would be on our
side, and perhaps we could get the people on the opposite bank
to aid us.We can not simply sit here and wait as our number are
slowly reduced until there are none of us left."
Benjamin: "Might there be a diplomatic Resolution?"
Louis: "There is only one negotiation to be had with slavers: the
speed of their death."
The others seemed to be of a mood with Louis, and Benjamin nodded.
Jeanne: "It is possible Temuchin would take them.. but why only two?
Last time he and his men took all that remained at the
fireside. Had he wished to, he and his men could have swooped
us all up. I think it unlikely that he would merely kill
them, as has been suggested. A dead slave is no good to him."
A line appeared between Josephine's eyebrows and she frowned thoughtfully.
Josephine: "Perhaps our two friends wanted to spend some... time
alone? We assume they have been abducted yet there are no
signs of struggling? Are they both not intelligent enough
to dig in a heel or break a branch or... drop a towel or
something to let us know they whatever happened was
against their will?"
Josephine: "I agree that if they have indeed been captured by Temuchin
we must rescue our friends, however, we have no reason to
believe they aren't just off together by their own free
will, do we?"
Jeanne pointed to where the footprints stopped and shook her head.
Jeanne: "The tracks disappear. Not into some thicket, or behind a
stand of bamboo. Just disappear."
Charles: "I too feel that something deeper is at work here."
Josephine: "If we truly believe they have been taken, I offer to go
take a man with me and scout the camp again. I know what
the camp looks like from the outside, but not from the
inside. If one of those who were in the camp will come, I
think we might be able to find out if our friends have,
indeed been captured."
Charles: "We must band together. All of Us. Today. And search the land
for signs of intruder. We must watch each other, for if
Hypatia is correct in her dream, then we may be divided from
within. From now on, we will all stay in groups of Three or
four, where possible -- not just 2. It is too easy to
suborn us. We must have one group on guard at all
times. Day and Night."
Charles: "It is time that we take the power and the offense and face
our enemy, whomever they may be -- face to face."
Charles conveyed his words to Shaka in a mixture of broken Bantu and
gestures.
Shaka, however, had come to understand the tongues of the others
better than they knew. He nodded as Charles suggested that the lazari
stay in groups of 3 or 4 and keep watch at all times. His eyes
narrowed at the suggestion that the enemy might be one of the lazari
themselves as well as a force from without.
Mishima paused and looked at Shaka for a moment, as if waiting for
approval, before continuing.
Mishima: "I will follow our leaders in whatever action is necessary."
Benjamin: "Is anything known of the Scythe? For unless it was given
by a Grailstone, it implies the development of Industry,
suitable for the Manufacture of Arms. If we could trace
its Origin, we might find a Resource of inestimable Value
to our Cause. If we know nothing of the Scythe, we should
endeavour to find out. Might I be permitted to investigate
it more closely?"
Jeanne: "It's a bit big to have been found in someone's grail, don't
you think?"
Without hesitation, Shaka nodded, and held the scythe out for
Benjamin's inspection, somewhat to Jeanne's surprise. Benjamin
examined the blade carefully for some time before pronouncing his
conclusions.
Benjamin: "It's well-made, but it is nevertheless an Artifact of
Manufacture, not a product of the Grail. We might do well
to seek out the Manufacturer. Whoever could produce such a
Work in such little time must possess great Skill or
Advantage."
Shaka took back his scythe and his face contorted with anger.
He shook his fist angrily and shouted in an unfamiliar language.
Gesturing to everyone present, he seemed to be saying that this is all
due to some one thing, but not what the thing is.
Calming down, he suggested by means of hand signals that he, Mishima,
and Shaw scout the River to the north during the night. Jeanne
retrieved her spears and stood beside Shaka, ignoring his glower at
her presumption.
Charles: "It's not night yet. Until then, let us prepare our weapons,
make ready our defense, and gird our courage. We can perhaps
make three bands; one to scout to the north, one to spy on
Temuchin's encampment, and one to guard our village."
The group broke up, each careful to stay with at least two others as
they sharpened their spears to prepare for the coming night. With and
excess of energy, Charles prowled around the camp staring with
hawk-like eyes, watching and observing all that occurs. He reminded
the others of nothing so much as a predator on the hunt.
At the noon firing of the grail, they met in the common hut. Jeanne
hung her makeshift crucifix on the hut's wall, and asked God to bless
the hut, murmuring.
Jeanne: "'Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there
am I.' How blessed are they who are called to the banquet of
the Lord."
Charles crossed himself as well.
Benjamin opened the conversation by asking each group member how they
came to be in Riverworld: whether they had died on the River, and what
memories they had of their time before reawakening. He soon learned
that of the lazari, only he, Mishima, and Hypatia could remember the
events from Resurrection Day; Hypatia said that she and Tjar had not
died on the River, while Benjamin and Mishima had. All of the others,
except Louis, could remember nothing of their first days on the River
except that they had indeed been on the River. When they were reborn
a month after Resurrection Day, they remembered the Grails, the
towels, the River, but none of the specific events of their past
month. Louis, even more oddly, had no memory of the River before his
resurrection, and maintained that he had never been reborn before.
Benjamin spoke with amazement.
Benjamin: "In the area where I lived on Riverworld before now,
everyone lived and died and lived in the same Manner, and
no man nor woman knew of any other Manner. Here, I find
that everyone has a different Experience. I wonder, why
this should be? Am I unusual to be born here, but under
the Rules of another part of Riverworld? Or are you
unusual for living under different Rules? I cannot think
but there must be some logical Reason, that the Mind of Man
can find, in the fullness of Time. Even here in this Life
after Life, the process of Philosophy must be able to
determine the Ways of Nature. Ah, well, what would
Immortality be without Mystery?"
Hypatia: "Have you not also noted that when a group is reborn at once,
they are often of the same time and place. Yet these
friends, so I am told, were born together without regard for
this convention. Another variable in perhaps the same
equivalence."
Benjamin nodded respectfully.
Benjamin: "But whatever the Cause, I see no Reason to believe, as
Charles does, that this is Purgatory. Rather, given the
Immortality of our Bodies, this must be Heaven itself."
Jeanne: "You, sir, dare to claim entrance into heaven? I find this
most unlikely! You who admits, nay brags! that he died
*while breaking* Our Lord's commandments? Surely your
mistress could not give you absolution in that last moment,
and you died unshriven! How can you think you have any right
to be clasped to the bosom of Abraham!"
Jeanne fairly shook with indignation at Benjamin.
Jeanne: "I do not know what this place is, but is surely not Heaven."
Benjamin seemed mildly amused, but clearly not at all offended, by
Jeanne's outburst. When she finished, he spoke, conversationally at
first but with gradually increasing passion:
Benjamin: "Madame Eminence, you mistake my Tale. My first Death was a
peaceful, if painful one. My Life was prolonged by a Score
of Years because my mission, ensuring Peace and the Birth
of a Nation, was not yet completed. Though my Wife had
died much earlier, I was ever true to her unto my Deathbed,
tempted though I often was."
Benjamin: "It was my second Death, here in this Riverworld, that
ended in what you call Sin. And shall you call it Sin,
when Jesus did say, 'For in the Resurrection, they will
neither marry nor are given in Marriage, but are as the
Angels of God in Heaven'?"
Benjamin's voice, which had risen to a level which betrayed emotional
engagement, suddenly dropped back to his gentle, amused tone.
Benjamin: "In any case, though the Holy Roman Church made you a Saint
and not I, it is not your Place to judge, or to
second-guess the Will of God. With all due respect, your
Eminence, and apologies for the inappropriateness of the
Title, but as far as I am given to know, there is no proper
Title for addressing a deceased Saint."
* * * *
* * * *
Charles looked astonished. He looked from Jeanne to Benjamin, and then
back at Jeanne with a deep searching gaze.
Charles: "Are you truly a Saint? Jeanne -- were you, are you?"
Jeanne seemed no less astonished than Charles, her initial shock at
Benjamin's words robbing her, albeit temporarily, of speech. In rapid
succession a series of emotions raced across the planes of her face:
surprise, bewilderment, fear and finally anger. It was the last which
loosened her tongue.
Jeanne: "So! You would add lies and perfidy to the list of sins you
gleefully commit! I do not know why I am surprised, but yet I
am. Is nothing sacred to you? You would jest even about
beatification?"
Benjamin: "I assure you, your Eminence, I do not jest. Your
Condemnation was annulled in 1456. I confess I cannot
remember the date of your elevation to Sainthood, as it
happened after my Death, but rest assured, dear Lady, you
are quite the Legend in Latter Times. Teresa, the
Professor of History of whom I spoke earlier, thought very
highly of you, and had done much Research into your Life."
Benjamin looked at Freud.
Benjamin: "Sir, your Death is from much later than mine, do you not
know of the famous Jeanne d'Arc? Can you not confirm for
her that she was made a Saint, in your own Century I
believe? She will not believe me."
Freud spoke with a voice that belied some concern for Jeanne.
Freud: "Yes, Fraulein. You were canonized in 1920."
Benjamin turned to Hypatia.
Benjamin: "Alas, good Lady, the Church offered you no such Honor,
deserving though you were. But..."
He drew himself up as if to make a pronouncement of grand importance.
Benjamin: "Those who would get only what they deserve, probably will."
He seemed quite pleased with himself.
Charles fell to his knees before Jeanne, prostrating himself.
Charles: "Bless us, Saint Jeanne, and the holy mission upon which we
must embark. For myself, I swear to protect you as God's
emissary, that you may guide us all to his Light."
Louis jumped up from where he sat, and spoke sharply.
Louis: "On your feet, man! It is clear the woman does not wish to be
worshiped. Leave her be."
Jeanne stared at Benjamin and Freud, suspicions playing about her
face. She too reacted to Charles with anger.
Jeanne: "Rise, Charles of Aachen. You shall worship none but the Lord
your God in Heaven."
Charles rose immediately, with a serious nod.
Louis sighed deeply and muttered.
Louis: "Religion. Feh."
Jeanne scowled at Benjamin.
Jeanne: "You tongue is facile, to turn a Scripture passage to your own
desires. But like the Sadducees you fail to comprehend what
you have read, and so are wrong. Men are part of this age by
the fact of physical birth, but in the next they will be as
angels, having neither marriage nor this sinful flesh. The
Lord's ways may not be our ways, but this is not His heaven."
Charles nodded.
Charles: "Heaven is supposed to be a place of everlasting peace. I
still maintain that this is an interim spot between our
lives, and our final resting place. And by that definition,
according to my views and beliefs, makes this place
purgatory."
Shaw whispered to Josephine, and both suppressed a smile.
Shaw: "If this truly is the afterlife, why don't we wait and ask God
when he decides to show himself?"
Benjamin: "I suppose these Questions will have to wait for a greater
Mind than mine. Please, your Eminence, let us not waste
more of the Time we have been given on such Discussions;
there are Friends who need our Help."
Charles addressed the group and his voice took on its familiar tone of
confidence.
Charles: "You all have some belief in God, even if you call him by a
different name. We must save our discussions of theology
for times when we can sit and talk in peace. In order to
find that peace, we must make secure our land and our
people."
Charles: "Since all these "Stealing of Peoples" has occurred at night,
we must take the initiative and strike at night."
Shaw: "I agree with Charles, the time to go is this night. We have
waited too long as it is. We should also send out a diplomatic
mission to the village that Josephine and I found the other
day, we shall need allies, and they may very well know much
about the slavers that we do not."
Louis: "Yes, we should take the initiative and strike! It would be
best to attack or enter their camp while they sleep most
heavy--before the dawn, not in the middle of the night. They
sleep lightly then and shall be awakened most easily. Even
posted guards tend to be groggy an hour or so before the
sunrise."
Louis turned to the group.
Louis: "Whether they went forth to be alone as Josephine has offered
as a possibility or they were taken against their will, the
fact remains that there are no footprints! And I am no
believer in magic. A group of slavers did not descend from
the night's sky and carry them away. I believe, and believe
firmly, that they must have been taken against their will, and
the tracks covered over. There is no other plausible
explanation.
Charles: "Shaka will take a small group -- Mishima, Shaw, and Jeanne
-- and scout upRiver, to learn what they can about the lay
of the land and its people."
Mishima nodded his assent: "At last!"
Charles began to translate his words into Bantu, but Shaka nodded with
understanding before he could begin.
Charles: "Josephine, take Freud and Benjamin and scout Temuchin's
camp. Count the enemy, look for forges for weapons. Look
for our friends and report back. Don't try to get them out
yourselves. We will do that in number."
Charles: "Hypatia, Louis and I will stay here and guard the camp. If
anyone sees anything out of the ordinary, return and tell us
immediately.
Hearing that she's to be separated from Shaw in the next set of
missions, Josephine shrugged and offered him a slightly apologetic smile, her
eyes tinged with regret. She whispered to him.
Josephine: "It appears that we aren't to travel together again. A
little sad, if I say so myself."
Shaw returned her look with a smile, and whispered back.
Shaw: "True, but it will only be for a short time, and I'm sure that we
will be able to travel together again soon."
Josephine, still smiling, ran her eyes over Shaw's form, and murmured.
Josephine: "In case one or both of us don't return from our journeys."
Charles: "Until Nightfall, let us prepare for the tasks at hand."
Benjamin nodded, accepting his assignment gladly.
Mishima was the first to pick up a spear and begin to practice with
it, favoring sword-like swings over stabs and jabs. He called out to
Louis.
Mishima: "Louis! I am not much experienced with these weapons. Would
you practice with me?"
Louis nodded gladly, and the two began to spar with their spears,
wielding them as swords or quarterstaves. Shaw came to join them and
commented that while each moved his weapon in a different style, the
two seemed generally well-matched.
Louis nodded.
Louis: "I am experienced with epee, rapier, and sabre. This bamboo is
less effective than a blade would be for me. Mishima seems
much more adept at parrying with it than I, perhaps because of
his two-handed grip."
Mishima: "The movements are called kendo, and derive from the
warriors of my people. They are usually practiced
with bamboo swords called shinai, made by binding four
lengths of bamboo together."
Shaw: "Perhaps the grasses or the fiber from a towel could be used to
make one."
Shaka nodded approvingly to the others as he approached them,
interested in the sparring. He demonstrated a more traditional
approach to spear combat, feinting and stabbing with the point. He
worked to help the others improve their spearwork, and soon everyone
in the camp had joined in the practice. While Josephine thrust her
spear in a dance-like fashion, Charles, occasionally glancing
over for a cautious stare at Jeanne, discussed group tactics.
Resting before dinner, Shaka led an impromptu class in the basics of
Bantu. To the rapt attention of Benjamin, Mishima, and Shaw, he taught
them basic nouns for spear, hut, camp, and fire, as well as words to
signal danger, success, and failure.
The evening Grailstone firing produced roast pheasant and asparagus.
At Charles's urging, the group ate lightly, and avoided the wine and
dreamgum they found in the grails. After the quiet meal, during which
each spent more time in thought than speech, the company formed into
its parties.
Shaw gave his boat a brief glance, and hoped that Josephine's training
would be sufficient to return the boat safely.
Josephine took a moment to wish each of the lazari well on their
mission, and they moved off into the waxing darkness.
* * * *
Jeanne, Mishima, and Shaw, with Shaka in the lead, began to trek
northward, taking advantage of the deepening shadows of the
Rivervalley. Shaka carried the precious scythe with the metal blade.
During the beginning of the march, Shaw asked Jeanne about her life on
Earth.
Jeanne: "What would you like to know of me, sir? My life was fairly
ordinary, for the most part, and happy. Was there something
specific you were curious about?"
Shaw: "Oh, anything you wish to speak of really. You see, I was
something of a historian in my last life, and often the lives
of the common people are left out of the great histories. What
ever the reason we were sent here, it is an excellent chance to
find out what was left out of the books, wouldn't you say?"
Shaka motioned the two to silence before Jeanne had time to do much
more than nod in agreement. Before long, they came upon the next
Grailstone, and, near it, another group of people around a fire.
The people were short, and their skin was tawny-colored. Their eyes
were painted with a dark pigment of some kind, and the fashion of
their towels bared the right breast of each. They stood in a circle,
each carrying what appeared to be a sharpened stone, and chanted in
low voices.
They reminded Shaka of Cleopatra.
As the companions watched silently from their hiding place amid the
bamboo to the west of the group, a woman among the singers pointed
across the circle at a man. He dropped his stone as the others ran to
him, grabbed him, and threw him to the ground. It took no more than a
moment for their sharp stones to pierce his heart, and he made no
sound as his life drained quickly from his body. The others returned
to the circle and resumed chanting, though the tone of the chant had
changed.
* * * *
At Josephine's instruction, Freud and Benjamin smeared dirt from the
Riverbank on their towels and spears to darken them. They boarded
Shaw's boat and took to the oars, paddling quietly across the dark
and rippled River. Josephine taught the others hand signals that could
be given by pressing them into the palm of the hand, and instructed
them to keep watch.
Little could be seen on the opposite shore. Temuchin's camp emitted
little light and little sound, but the masts of the many boats docked
at his pier provided a landmark they could use to direct their rowing.
Signaling with her hands, Josephine directed them to the north of the
docks, where they might hope to land unnoticed.
Almost shivering from the eerie silence of the fortress, they managed
to bring the boat to shore unseen. They crept quietly to the tall
bamboo fence which bordered Temuchin's encampment to the north, east,
and south. While Freud pressed his ear against the bamboo, Josephine
climbed up a nearby tree and Benjamin drew nearer to the dock to
examine the boats.
Freud shook his head when the other two returned. He whispered into
their ears.
Freud: "I can hear nothing."
Josephine: "I don't think there's much to hear. I saw only a few men
moving about, and sleepily. Perhaps we can get inside and
find out if our friends are within."
Benjamin: "Was there a Shipwright here?"
Josephine looked at Benjamin strangely.
Josephine: "What do you mean?"
Benjamin: "Unless my eyes mistake me, these Craft are not seaworthy.
Some seem to be mere Shells or Images of ships."
* * * *
Charles, Hypatia, and Louis sat together near the fire, clutching
their spears. They soon realized that while Charles and Hypatia both
spoke Latin and Greek, Louis did not. Theirs, accordingly, was a
silent vigil.
After an hour, Hypatia stood and motioned to the bamboo forest behind
the hut, indicating that she needed to relieve herself. Charles
stationed himself near the huts, within her shouting distance, leaving
Louis by the Grailstone to watch the River. When she did not return
for some time, Charles called out for Louis to join him, and together
they called into the forest.
They were answered by the appearance of a company of perhaps 50 men
with spears, daggers, and primitive bows and arrows, each trained on
Charles and Louis. From the back of the troop strode two men: one
short, Asian, and fierce-looking, the other sallow and smiling.
Pointing with his eyebrows toward the shorter man, Charles hissed
quietly at Louis, whose eyes widened.
Charles: "Temuchin."
The pale man, still smiling, spoke to Louis in French, and repeated
his words in Latin for Charles.
Joseph: "And Joseph. And if you cry out, or resist, you will die, as
will your friends."
* * * *
Benjamin pondered the false ship hulls a moment, then spoke.
Benjamin: "Clearly, this Temuchin wishes us to believe he has not
moved his Fortress, when he has. This might be an Ambush.
Friends, I advise we return at once, to ensure the others
learn of this. Moreover, some of them might have found the
real Fortress and may need our Assistance."
He held his spear in a defensive posture.
Josephine frowned thoughtfully. She pulled the two men very close and
spoke in a soft whisper.
Josephine: "These fakes may just be here to deter any ships that are
passing. Behind the false Armada may be the same soldiers
and warriors as before. I suggest that I swim over and
make sure this isn't just a facade, as you suggested."
Josephine: "If I am detected, I will submerge and swim to the north.
You sail to the south and across the river to the village
Shaw and I spoke of after our last exploration. I will
attempt to circle across the River and meet you there
later."
Freud and Benjamin nodded in quiet agreement, and Josephine slipped
into the River. She silently, making only small ripples, her dark skin
blending in with the darkness of the water. When she returned, her
report confirmed Benjamin's suspicions. Aside from the lazy motions of
a few token guards, the fortress seemed to be empty.
Freud: "I think we should heed Benjamin's concerns, Fraulein, and
return."
Josephine agreed, and they returned to the boat to cross the River
again.
* * * *
Shaka remained calm as he watched the score of tawny-skinned people
kill the man with their stone implements. Turning to each of his
fellow scouts in turn, he motioned them to remain silent. He had to
restrain Jeanne from rising to her feet and striding into the circle.
Mishima, on the other hand, grinned slightly and looked thoughtful.
After another hour of observation, the chanting stopped and the people
returned to their huts in the darkness. The group withdrew to a point
about 30 minutes from their camp and stopped. Comparing their
impressions, they judged that there were about 20 of the people,
living in grass huts beyond the grailstone. No one saw any weapons
besides the sharp stones. Shaw reported that he'd seen a few small
dugout boats, and judging from the heiroglyphs on their sides, he
believed the people were ancient Egyptians.
Shaw: "These folk do not appear to be good allies, and will more likely
than not prove themselves to be enemies. I say we return to
camp at once and see how the others have managed."
Mishima spoke excitedly.
Mishima: "These people have no fear of death! If we could recruit
them against the slavers they would be bold warriors."
Mishima tried to communicate this to Shaka by gesture and minimal
Bantu, and Shaka merely nodded in acknowledgment.
Jeanne: "This is not battle, there was no chance for him to defend
himself. His death was arbitrary, meaningless.
Mishima: "He didn't struggle, he didn't defend himself. It wasn't
battle, it was a sacrifice. I'm sure it wasn't meaningless
to him."
Mishima added dryly in English: "You should know about that."
Shaw chose not to translate the comment.
Mishima: "It does not matter what they were doing, as long as we don't
let them do it to us. I would guess that they're trying to
spread their force around Riverworld, hoping their members
will be reborn in other groups and be able to come to
influence them. It's good that that we know about this,
should any appear near our stone. For now, perhaps we can
try to use their beliefs to stir them to our cause."
Shaw: "Hm, Possibly they are not the savages they appear to be."
Jeanne: "How can you say it does not matter what they do? How do you
know they won't do it to us, given the chance?"
Mishima: "Because we won't give them the chance. All we need to know
about them is if and how we can use them, or if they're more
of a threat than a tool. The only way to find that out is
to approach them."
Mishima: "But there's enough of them that I agree we should wait until
day to approach them. This has the look of ritual; they may
be violent if disturbed. And the very fearlessness we need
might lead them to attack us."
Shaw: "Perhaps Jeanne should stay behind in case they do not prove to
be as friendly as we hope they may be. That way word can reach
the others if things do not... go well."
Shaka made the hand signal to return to camp.
* * * *
Charles lowered his spear but did not drop it. He looked over at
Louis, and around at the group of men. Hypatia was nowhere in sight.
Louis scowled and grits his teeth.
He wondered how the pale man could know enough to address him in
French and Charles in Latin. Cursing under his breath, he longed again
for his favored rapier.
He gripped his spear tightly, his knuckles whitening. He returned
Charles's glance, and noted that Charles had not relinquished his
weapon. The expression on Louis' face said he would be glad to die if
he could take the pale man with him.
Charles: "What is it you want, Temuchin? And who are you? I do not
recognize you, 'Joseph'."
Temuchin ignored Charles and signaled his men. A score of them spread
through the camp, poking into the huts and searching around the
Grailstone and the woods immediately behind the camp.
Charles: "Once again, Temuchin, you try to take what is not yours.
You use strange tactics, to bring an army of men within our
village without a sound. For indeed, I heard no sound from
any man, and I would have heard this many. Perhaps you are
Satan himself, or you work for him. Either way, I'll have no
dealings with you."
Charles's voice was loud enough to alert Shaka's party as they skulked
toward their camp from the north. Hiding in the dark woods, they
watched a large group of soldiers move in and out of their huts, and
around the camp. Jeanne signaled furiously, pointing out Temuchin
standing beside a pale, cruel-looking man.
Josephine, Benjamin, and Freud approached the camp from downRiver,
paddling as quietly as they could. Light from unfamiliar torches gave
them warning, and they pulled up their oars and let the boat drift in
the darkness as they watched the scene unfolding in the camp. They
could make the two important-looking men, and many soldiers. Freud
gasped almost inaudibly at one the taller of the two men, and his
voice was the barest whisper in the night.
Freud: "Herr Stalin..."
Charles: "Where is the woman, Hypatia. She was here before you
arrived -- Have you taken her as well?"
Temuchin leered evilly at Charles. Charles paused and looked around,
smiling slightly, and shaking his head at Temuchin.
Charles: "And what of the others of our group. Those that surround
you now, do you know where they are? Do you realize that we
too can move silently and swiftly in the night?"
Temuchin's leer vanished and his eyes darted about. Some of the
warriors, perhaps sensing their chief's disquiet, began to shift
nervously.
Charles: "You are not the only one who can use power from beyond your
time, Temuchin. I too can make pacts with great powers. I
choose to make mine with Good Powers, while you trade souls
with Lucifer."
Charles: "Go back now. Disappear the way you arrived. Silently and
quickly. If you do not leave, the army that surrounds you,
as you surround us, will descend and destroy you."
Charles: "I have little to risk. I have no empire, I have no iron
forges to protect, I have only a small following. If I am
slain now in battle, I will be brought back by God, to fight
again. Be it you, or other tyrants like you. It is my
mission."
Charles: "Go now. I am tired of you. Begone Lucifer. Begone Temuchin."
He spoke to Louis in Bantu: "Follow me."
Joseph began clapping his hands and laughed.
Joseph: "A most inspiring performance. Please stop backing away or my
bowmen will be forced to kill you. I am not concerned about
being surrounded by your imaginary friends."
He gestured to two of the soldiers, who drew 3-foot long bows and
aimed their arrows at the men. Charles and Louis halted their retreat
toward the River.
Charles realized with a start that the archers were not of the same
race as Temuchin's people. Indeed, about 20 of the men seemed to be
pale, like Joseph, despite being clothed like Temuchin's warriors.
Joseph: "Do not be in a rush to die. We have many questions to ask
you, and perhaps, if your answers are sufficient, you may be
allowed to live. Death is not always temporary, you know."
He smiled a cat's smile.
* * * *
* * * *
Josephine tensed as she watched the exchange on the riverbank.
Benjamin whispered to her.
Benjamin: "Clearly we must save them, but mayhap it would be wise to
allow Herr Stalin to ask his Questions first? We may learn
more about him and his plans from the Questions than he
will learn of us and ours; and we may be able to follow
them and discover the true Locale of their Camp and their
Forges. Furthermore, it's clear we are too few to save
them without some Device to make them believe we are many.
Given our Circumstances I can think of no such Device which
will not greatly endanger Louis and Charles."
Motioning for everyone to remain silent and still, Josephine pressed
the signs into their hands to show that she was going to swim and
observe.
Freud frowned, but didn't interfere as she slipped into the water on
the far side of the boat. She glided around the boat and disappeared
into the darkness with barely a ripple.
Freud turned to Benjamin.
Freud: "We must do something...When I give the signal, we both shout
'Fraer' at Joseph."
Benjamin: "What's that?"
Freud chuckled grimly.
Freud: "It'll get his attention."
Benjamin nodded.
From Joseph's demeanor, Louis assumed that Charles' bluff, whatever
it was, had been unsuccessful. Louis lowered his spear, but did
not relinquish it.
Louis turned to Joseph and spoke boldly. His tone began defiant, but
gradually became less strident.
Louis: "What makes you think you can force our--my--cooperation? We
died once, knowing nothing of this place. I will not be
interrogated at your whim. Go ahead--fire. I might just be
able to run you through."
Louis: "One usually is able to garner more information through
diplomacy than terrorism. I might even find your endeavor to
be of interest and voluntarily assist you. We can discuss it
over our grail."
Joseph turned to Charles, and spoke in Latin.
Joseph: "I'm happy to see that at least one of you seems to be reasonable."
Charles planted the butt of his spear into the ground at his feet and
frowned before he spoke.
Charles: "Joseph, I seek no war here. I will answer what questions I
can. I ask for freedom for my people, and perhaps myself,
though I will stay hostage if you have needs of such."
Charles: "I seek answers too, Answers to why our friends vanish in the
night, leaving no track, or trail. Answers to our lack of
memory of lives previous to this one, here on this great
river. Some remember other lives, I do not. I would also
know what your purpose is here, and what purpose I am being
asked to serve. Know you this, I won't consent to Evil. My
soul is tainted enough already, and this is my purgatory."
Joseph laughed. He spoke in both French and Latin.
Joseph: "It is not your place to demand answers, Charlemagne. But I am
pleased that you both seem willing to give them."
Joseph: "Let us begin simply, then. Where are your companions now?
Which of them can remember their past lives? What dreams or
visions have they had?"
In the trees, Shaw paused in his whispered translation of the
interrogation. Mishima looked at the others.
Mishima: "We must move for this quickly. With the slavers here,
Franklin's group has almost certainly been captured by now.
We must assume we are the only ones still free."
Shaka held up his hand to his party.
Watching the conversation, Shaka, while unsure of all that was being
talked about, understood the situation clearly, and decided
that it was time to act. Better to inspire others to fight bravely
and in doing so dying than to live as a coward, he thought.
Signaling the others, Shaka indicated that Jeanne and Mishima should
surprise and kill a bowman each, and that Shaw should take Joseph.
Shaka's eyes were afire at the prospect of finishing his fight with
Temuchin, this time in control of the deadly metal scythe.
Mishima nodded his acceptance.
Shaw whispered to Mishima and Jeanne.
Shaw: "The archers are the most dangerous, you must keep them from
regrouping"
Jeanne muttered hurriedly to her companions, and gestured at Shaka.
Four fingers, pointed at her and her companions, then a double handful
of fingers, and touched her ear.
Jeanne: "Charles says we are an army, let us sound like one. Make
noise but stay out of sight or they'll know we're less than
we sound."
The others nodded, and they crept forth into positions around the camp.
The soldiers jumped as the sound of a war cry, unheard by any save the
Zulu before, echoed across the companion's camp, followed by a mixture
of Arabic and French orders to advance. Shaka sprang from the bushes
like a dark shadow, charging Temuchin. As the bowmen turned to face
the enraged warrior, Jeanne and Mishima dived at them from the bushes,
and fouled their bows. In moments, a general melee had ensued.
Shaw approached Joseph warily, as Louis and Charles prepared to begin
their own sortie. Joseph, however, fell back and ordered Temuchin's
men into battle with the three.
Jeanne rapped her spear against the heads of the bowmen and took
possession of their bows. Mishima fought like a man insane, swinging
his bamboo and knocking soldiers to the ground. He fought his way to
Louis, and the two stood shoulder to shoulder, hacking and stabbing
their way through a mass of soldiers.
Shaka and Temuchin were again locked in a battle to the death. This
time, however, Shaka held the metal blade and the advantage. Temuchin
was not prepared to suffer defeat easily, however, and even as Shaka
backed him toward the common hut, his dagger nicked the Zulu's arm.
Nearly frothing with rage, Shaka swung the scythe in a wide arc, and
tumbled Temuchin's unbelieving head from his body. He turned to face
the soldiers behind him and had just begun to engage them when
Joseph's dagger entered his back. Still yelling Zulu cries, he fell.
Joseph began to run from the camp, when two voices from the River
shouted "Fraer! Joseph! Stand, fraer Stalin!" At the sound of Russian,
Joseph paused a moment in his flight, and was simultaneously tackled
by Shaw and a dripping Josephine who had emerged from the River
minutes before. The two grinned at one another and exchanged a few
words.
Shaw: "Welcome back."
Josephine: "I knew you'd be a good one in a tumble."
With Temuchin dead and Joseph captured, the few soldiers still living
after Jeanne, Mishima, Louis, and Charles' onslaught fled, many
diving into the river where they encountered the bamboo oars that
Benjamin and Freud were using to paddle Shaw's boat back to the
Grailstone.
Shaka felt a icy hand grip his back, and the cold moved quickly
through his body. He savored his battle-lust and his revenge on
Temuchin as he slowly sank into darkness.
A look at Shaka's wounds convinced Freud that he was dead.
Freud: "Florence might have been able to help him, but I could not."
As the exhilaration of the battle left them, a few shed tears, and
others glared angrily at Joseph, groaning and prone on the ground with
Shaw and Josephine standing over him. Mishima shook with rage.
* * * *
* * * *
Jeanne knelt and prayed over Shaka's body. She sobbed quietly.
Jeanne: "I did not try hard enough to save him; and now he is damned
for all time."
As the dust settled, Charles breathed deeply, and regained his calm and
composure.
Charles: "I am glad, that my Bluff was no bluff. You are excellent
compatriots, and better friends."
Charles looked over at the body of Shaka.
Charles: "Here lies a great Warrior. He died avenging his honor, and
aiding our cause. No man can ask for more. He will be a
difficult man to replace."
Charles bent to pick up the metal scythe from near the fallen corpse.
Charles: "Let this be therefore, a symbol of virtue and office. To
whomever leads the guard, and drives back the enemy -- let
him Carry this weapon as a symbol of Shaka's bravery and
skill"
Charles planted the haft of the weapon into soft ground, so that it stood
upright like a flag of sorts.
Mishima glanced at the scythe and looked over each of the men in the
camp.
Shaw stood from Shaka's lifeless body and shook his head. He opened
his mouth as if to speak, but instead walked away silently, looking
among the dead, but remaining close enough to heed the words of the
others. Benjamin collected weapons from the corpses. Jeanne held on to
the bows she had taken from the fallen archers.
Charles approached the bound form of Joseph.
Charles: "I do believe that I asked you some questions before, Joseph.
I am not a person accustomed to be being denied. I expect
answers, and truthful ones."
Joseph remained silent.
Charles paused and looked at the others.
Benjamin: "Herr Stalin thought the most important Question to ask us
was which of us remembered our past Lives, and about our
Visions and Dreams. This makes me think that the Mystery
of our Memories and the Mystery of the Disappearances are
related, or are one. We must learn what he already knows
of these Matters."
Benjamin: "Also, if he knows from whence came the Scythe, and how it
was manufactured, we should know."
With fire in his eyes, Mishima eyed Joseph and the scythe.
Charles: "I need answers. and I will get them. There are many ways to
get information, and there are many ways to prolong the
agony before death. If you know me as Charlemagne, you know
that I am experienced in such matters. You can believe,
that I consider your soul already lost. You information is
what matters to my path and to God's. I will extract what I
need from you, one small bone. muscle. eye. ear. tongue.
genital. and bit of skin. at. a. time."
Joseph: "I will tell you nothing."
Charles paused for a moment and then gripped Joseph's right hand and
began to press the tip of his dagger beneath the thumb nail.
Jeanne began to plead with Joseph to speak and save himself from
needless suffering. She turned to Charles and the others.
Jeanne: "This is not right. If he has indeed made a pact with the
devil, he must be cleansed so that his soul might be
saved. We must deal with him as the sorcerer he is: purify
him."
Freud: "Perhaps there is an alternative? I could hypnotize the man,
and we could learn much that he might not otherwise tell us,
and without torture."
Joseph glared at Freud.
Jeanne: "Ensorcellment? It is just as much witchcraft to enchant a
witch as a mortal!"
Freud: "No enchantment, just a drawing out of the unconscious..."
Jeanne frowned and shook her head.
Louis: "Peut-etre I can assist."
He turned to Joseph.
Joseph: "You will learn nothing from me. Soon I will be reborn
elsewhere, where I can forge new weapons."
Louis: "Joseph, we have learned enough from you already. You are a
man, like me, and yet you have done things I could not. You
must have aid from somewhere else, someone else. And perhaps
they will not be pleased with your failure."
Joseph paled momentarily, but returned Louis gaze firmly.
Louis: "Let us hold him, for now, without food or water. Perhaps in
the morning he will have gained enough curiosity about the
source of our aid to speak."
Joseph looked startled as Mishima led him away to one of the ravaged
huts, and stayed to guard him.
Shaw: "We must go to the slavers camp and take it before any other
do. It is better fortified than we are here, and we can free
any slaves that they may have had. We can also find out the
secret of this metal scythe. I say we leave at once."
Charles: "I think we are all too tired to cross the River tonight."
Josephine nodded.
Josephine: "There's a token force there, and it gives the outward
appearance of being manned. We should be able to take them
in the morning."
The group returned, exhausted, to the their huts. Watches were set but
this night was far less eventful than the one before.
* * * *
Shaka felt the darkness around him lighten almost imperceptibly. His
body seemed to be floating, but there was no sensation of water. He
struggled to move his arms and legs, but found them frozen in
place. Defenseless, and yet unconcerned, he saw the shadowy figure of
a man with a lion's head approach him. The man stopped before him, and
a scythe with a metal blade appeared in his hand, a twin of the one
which Shaka had won from Temuchin. The lion-headed man pointed first
to the scythe and then with the scythe; Shaka somehow felt he was
pointing to the north. The man opened his lions' mouth in a great
yawn, exhaling his breath on Shaka, who fell into unconsciousness
again.
* * * *
As morning broke on the encampment, the companions approached the
grailstone, their prisoner in tow. Each inserted their grail into the
stone, except Joseph, who had not brought his to the invasion. As the
grailstone fired, Josephine nearly jumped as the figure of a
dark-skinned man materialized beside the grail with the requisite pile
of towels. And they all stood in gape-mouthed shock when the figure
proved to be Shaka!
The final surprise came when Shaka, arising, greeted the others in
fluent English.
As the group crowded around to speak to Shaka, Joseph began gibbering
in confusion and horror, pointing to the newly-resurrected man.
Joseph: "It...can't be! They wouldn't allow it!"
* * * *
* * * *
Benjamin's surprise at seeing Shaka vanished, and he turned quickly to
Joseph.
Benjamin: "Why not? Why wouldn't they allow this, Joseph? Do you
really know as much as you think you do?"
Joseph stammered, "I know that it shouldn't have happened..." He
paled, but stopped talking, his face angry.
Shaka blinked his eyes, then opened them again. At first he appeared
astonished, then he just shook his head and smiled. As his companions
gathered around him, he spoke, in perfect, though accented, English.
Shaka: "Greetings my friends, my strange strange friends. How I have
longed to speak to you in Bantu or Zulu, but instead, the gods
have given me the power to speak your strange tongue instead.
So many words... and yet, it will do."
He looked from companion to companion, and spoke each of their names
carefully. Jeanne stared at him, her face pale and her eyes wide.
Shaka: "How is it you understand what to call each other? Some of you
have two names, some only one. With some the second name is
just another name, in others, it is a title. It is very
confusing. I understand that Charles is from a land called
Aachen now, but Josephine does not strike me as a baker - more
as a dancer."
Josephine grinned a half-smile at the mention of her name by the Zulu.
Josephine: "Oh, you could say I was a dancer... A dancer, a singer, an
actress... You can call me any number of things."
Shaka shrugged and smiled. Opening his grail, he fell to eating
voraciously. The others formed a circle by the grailstone and joined
him. Joseph sat bound between Mishima and Charles. He did not ask for
food.
Shaka: "As you know, I am Shaka. To use your second names, I suppose
I would be called Shaka Zulu, or Shaka of Zulu, as I was in my
first life, king of the Zulus, the mightiest warriors on
earth. I was born in disgrace, the bastard son of a princess,
but I spent my life training, improving, learning. In time, I
became a mighty general for my adopted tribe, winning many
great battles for them."
Shaka: "In time, when the fullness of my manhood was reached, the
leader of my real tribe, the Zulus, died, and I returned to
reclaim my throne. The Zulus were a small tribe, but their
warriors were strong and listened to my words. We organized,
we trained, and we fought as an army, not as a loose band.
Marching together and not wasting our spears and shields with
stupid throwing matches, we conquered tribe after tribe."
Shaka: "Though I was always a man of war, I also knew the only way to
peace was through acceptance, and so every conquered tribe
became Zulu, and our numbers grew until there were no more
tribes between the mighty rivers but us. If not for those
jealous of my greatness, I am sure that the Zulus would have
ruled the entire world."
Shaka: "I returned home, and my half brothers grew jealous of my
power. Everywhere there were plots against me, and though I
was a wise and good leader, I was murdered over petty wants --
stabbed in the back. A death I would come to know again."
Shaka: "And then, I awoke here... in my young man's body, with my hair
scraped away. I had thought that this was paradise, but it
was not the paradise I had been promised. Everywhere I looked
were smaller, whiter people, and no one but me spoke my
tongue."
Benjamin: "Shaka, do you remember your previous Adventures with
myself, and those before my Arrival, with these Others? Do
you remember your Life since your very first Arrival on
this World?"
Shaka: "I remember you. I remember my life on Earth. The time between
my Earth-death and my waking with you is still blank."
Shaka: "I was alone, without followers, and we were cast into slavery.
Together with Charles, we freed ourselves and I captured the
mighty sword of Temuchin, the demon of this afterlife hell."
Shaka: "Still, life was strange and incomplete. Again and again we
seemed to fight. And then finally, I saw my chance to truly
die and live in paradise. Temuchin returned, but this time
without his sword."
Shaka: "Knowing that the way to heaven was in my grasp, we charged,
and I take it from the surroundings here, and the friends I
see, we were victorious."
Shaka pointed to Joseph.
Shaka: "Although I was stabbed in the back by that coward there, I
lived long enough to kill the demon Temuchin, and so I slipped
from life knowing I had earned my rewards."
Shaka: "Still though, paradise escaped me... though this time, I
beheld a god. As I lay dreaming after death, a god appeared
to me, in the aspect of a man-lion. He carried the Sword of
Temuchin, or one like it. He cast a spell on me with his
breath, and sent me back here. The spell must be what has
given me the ability to speak with you."
Jeanne's countenance grew even more pallid at Shaka's words. She
muttered, barely audible, "The Lion?"
Louis stood by himself, unmoved by Shaka's reappearance.
Louis: "This, somehow, does not surprise me. Do not misunderstand. I
am glad for the return of our comrade, but I have no faith in
an afterlife or of issues of rebirth. To me, there are no
rules in this place."
Shaw: "No rules? Oh, there are rules, only the players in this game
have not seen fit to let the pawns in on them."
He jammed his spear into the ground angrily.
Shaw: "And I for one am tired of being a pawn."
Shaka: "The god did not speak to me, but he made it clear to me that
the sword of Temuchin came to us from the north, and somehow I
felt I should go there. Perhaps that will do something to
explain why we are in this strange place, and not in
paradise."
Josephine leaned over and whispered to Shaw.
Josephine: "My, that one sure has a lot to say"
Shaka sat up, and his expression changed. He flexed his fingers, the
muscles on his arms writhing, as he turned to face Joseph.
Shaka: "And now, do not think I have forgotten you, coward. You fancy
yourself a warrior? Let us see how well you fight with no
treachery to aid you. The King of the Zulus seeks to avenge
his own death. Defend yourself coward, as I crush the life
from you with my bare hands!"
Shaka smiled a grim smile and moved toward Joseph, confidence on his
face and death in his heart.
Louis too addressed Joseph.
Louis: "I wish there was a final death in this accursed place. I
would like, very much, to see you executed after you tell us
what you and yours are about."
Louis sighed. "But I fear it is all for naught. If he dies, will he not come
back to haunt us once again? This begins to appear futile to me."
He turned to Shaka.
Louis: "Kill him in vengeance for your own death, yes. But do you not
think that he might be able to reveal something of the design
we find ourselves in?"
Louis: "You state that you appeared before a God. Might not he have
been a man in a costume? I do not proclaim to have knowledge
as to how a rebirth happens, but if it does, why does this
person have to be a God? And I know what you who are
believers are going to say...who else but a God could do this?
I am not concerned with providing an answer. Suffice it to
say, I would like to confront this lion-man and see for
myself."
Mishima: "The being that returned Shaka to us, now able to speak with
us, is no enemy of ours."
Louis shifted his spear from hand to hand. "I would like to remain a part
of your group, but I feel a pressing need to ascertain for myself who is at
fault. If I die, I will be reborn to pursue this goal. If not, I have
died once before, and I remain unconcerned."
Louis: "I will strike out north at daybreak."
Charles stood and spoke in Latin. Benjamin translated his words to
Shaka and the others.
Charles: "Shaka, you are truly a noble lord from a foreign land. You
agreed once, to follow my lead. Do you still?"
Shaka paused for a moment, and nodded in a regal fashion, as of one
king regarding another.
Charles stood near Shaka and Joseph, and placed his hand on haft of the
metal scythe.
Charles: "Shaka, this tool bought your revenge, and granted us our freedom."
Charles: "If you kill Joseph now, perhaps this "God" you saw (Though
he cannot be the true God of our lives), will give him power
again, to create Evil here in this land...."
Charles: "We must learn to Live with the evil that is among us. We
must control it. It is God's way that we deal with our own
affairs in this way of common sense. "
Charles: "I decree that this man shall live among us and learn from
us. If he causes a threat, I shall deal with that
separately. He shall not walk free to harm the innocent.
He will remain bound. He will be fed minimally from his own
grail to keep him alive. We will teach him and learn from
him what he knows. "
Mishima spoke up thoughtfully. "So...there is control to this place after
all."
He pointed to Joseph with his thumb.
Mishima: "The more reason for Shaka to kill this offal, here, now. If
he does not return near us, so be it. This being Shaka saw
does not interfere with every rebirth. I have died here
without such an encounter; so have some of you. If it does
intervene, it must be to guide the happenings. If Stalin
has further part to play in our fate, then we must let it
happen."
Mishima turned to Charles.
Mishima: "You are right on one point: we must control the evil among
us. But you say it falls to us to teach him. I wonder if
you would feel the same about your own murderer. Does
keeping such among us seem to be the 'common sense' your God
demands?"
Charles: "Shaka, Take this scythe, this mark of honor and office, and
carry it well. If you revenge on Joseph, you forfeit this
badge of office. Remember your learning of Peace."
Shaka reached out casually and took the scythe.
Shaka: "It is mine to take...perhaps more than yours to give."
He held the scythe to Joseph's throat, and the pale captive tensed
himself for the blow that never came. Shaka lowered the blade and
instead kicked the man in his stomach. He spat on the Joseph's
curled-up, retching form.
Shaka: "Keep this dog bound and away from me if you think you can learn
something from him. My vengeance will wait...for a time."
Shaw: "Before we go follow Shaka's dream we have to take the slavers'
camp, we may find more answers there. At the very least we can
outfit ourselves better with what we find there. But we must
get there before anyone else has a chance to seize control."
Josephine smiled at Shaw.
Shaw: "How else will we travel? On foot? You would be dead with in a
week, or slaves. And does anyone have any idea of just how far
north we will be going? I for one think it would be much more
efficient, and safer, to go by boat. My boat was not built to
hold a dozen. Oh, for short distances it would be ok, but for a
voyage of undetermined length? For that we will need a larger
boat. We can get one from the slavers' camp."
* * * *
Jeanne, pale and shaken by the recent turn of events, focused on
Shaw's question about the boats as a drowning man clutches a
life-preserver.
Jeanne: "Did you build your boat yourself? Could you show us how to
build a larger one to hold us all? Or, barring that, a second
craft like your own?"
Josephine, who had been observing the others carefully, noted the
quiver in Jeanne's voice, and the woman's anxious state.
Jeanne feared she was being driven mad. How could Shaka have been
reborn? Only one man had ever risen from the dead, and Shaka did not
resemble the Nazarene. The signs of the second coming had not come to
pass, and yet here was a man she had seen die and return to life!
Perhaps she had fallen into Satan's clutches, she thought. Her voices
had given her no guidance. Her musings were interrupted by Louis.
Louis: "I am an outsider here, it would seem. I have witnessed
Shaka's death and then rebirth. This only further frustrates
any attempt at understanding this place."
Louis: "You all seem to remember additional lives after your death on
earth. I do not. The last thing I remember was the sound of
Madame Guillotine sliding down the wooden rails to kiss the
back of my neck."
Louis laughed.
Louis: "When they came for us, Robespierre struggled so...it was a
pathetic, an ignoble end."
He grew silent for a moment, lost in thought. "Well, at least we gave
them the Declaration." Louis sighed.
Louis: "I apologize for my digression. As to traveling north...I
have no love for slavers. In fact, I abhor them. It would be
both fitting and proper for us to take a boat from them. And
in a way, I hope they resist."
A faint smile creased his face as he hefted his spear. Shaw grinned evilly.
Returning to the group, he pointed at Louis.
Shaka: "I agree with this one. We should go to Temuchin's camp and
take what we will need on our trek north. With Temuchin gone,
and the worm our prisoner, they will be in the throes of panic
and discord and easily dominated."
Shaka looked down at Joseph's writhing and smiled cruelly.
Shaka: "I think we should be prepared to make our first reconnaissance
when the grailstone nearest the camp is spitting its fire.
This should give us an indication of their numbers and their
new leader."
Shaw nodded. "Once we take the camp and its boats, we can head north."
Josephine spoke up in her clear voice.
Josephine: "During our recent trip to the old camp of Temuchin to the
south, we did, indeed, see sailing ships used as a
facade. I do not know how seaworthy these crafts are as I
have only the experiences with Shaw's craft gained in
this... other world."
She flashed a smile at Shaw and let her gaze travel around the group a
bit to see their reaction before continuing.
Josephine: "While I am not as adamant about using the River for our
transportation as my friend here, I do think this to be
the wisest plan as my travels on the River so far have
proven to be speedy and safe. If Shaw or another friend
with much knowledge about sailing were to look over some
of the vessels at the old Temuchin camp, perhaps we could
find one to suit our needs?"
She shrugged lightly and offered an encouraging and friendly smile to
Shaw, who nodded at her words.
With Benjamin's help, Charles addressed the others.
Charles: "It is best that we move towards Temuchin's camp as soon as
possible. It would be best that we split up again, and
approach by river and by land. Shaka, will you lead a group
by land? if so, choose whom you will, and Shaw will ferry
you across the River to the south of the camp and
return. Then the rest will go with Shaw and I on his boat to
land at the dock. Joseph will come with me, and remain on
the boat. Bound to the boat."
Charles: "Who here can pilot a boat?"
Benjamin: "Josephine has some Experience, and I wager I could manage
Navigation in a pinch."
Charles: "Then you should come with Shaw and I, to pilot any boats we
can take from the slavers."
Charles: "Those who approach on land, will free those still help
captive, and defeat any of Temuchin's troops that remain to
fight. Those that run away are not to be pursued - we are
too small in number. Collect Grails, weapons, and any other
provisions, baskets, containers for water, anything you can
find, that we can take on the river with us. "
Charles: "We can then depart on the boats, or arrange to meet back
here at this camp."
Charles turns to Stalin.
Charles: "Joseph? Is there anything you can add, or wish to add about
Temuchin's camp? He is gone. We are here. You are
here. Speak if you will."
Joseph's voice contained a mixture of hatred and fear. "I have never
been to Temuchin's camp."
The others agreed to Charles's suggestion and they formed into the two
groups. Benjamin, Shaw, Charles, Jeanne, and Josephine made up the
River approach. Louis and Mishima voted to join Shaka in the overland
assault. After spending the day in individual and group pursuits, they
gathered together as night fell. Shaw ferried the smaller party to a
position to the south of Temuchin's village, and returned for the
others.
The two groups met at Temuchin's docks. The compound had proven to be
deserted; not a single slaver was found. Bodies of the slaves, their
throats cut, lay in their cages.
Shaw inspected the boats. All proved to be floating shells of ships,
clearly designed as a ruse, except one, a sturdy-looking 8-meter
sailboat with a square sail and a jib. A circle was painted around its
pointed prow, but unlike the false boats, no words were written on its
hull.
Shaw: "This boat looks good. It's large enough to hold 12 comfortably,
and 16 in a pinch."
* * * *
* * * *
Charles and Jeanne walked around through Temuchin's camp - Jeanne as
if in a daze, Charles viewing places that were, for a few days, his
prison too. They spent much time among the corpses, looking at their
faces for signs of the lost companions, but finding only unfortunate
strangers. Jeanne's relief was evident. Charles only sighed, placing
his hand over his eyes and rubbing them. He spoke quietly to himself.
Charles: "Even if I am the only one to define this place so, it is
Purgatory for me. Here too, my friends die through my
decisions, and through fate. It is not always the evil who
perish, and the just who survive. Perhaps if we, or any man
ever attains heaven, there that creed will hold true."
Mishima: "Were any of these your friends?"
Jeanne: "No, thankfully."
Freud: "I don't know whether you should be thankful for that. We still
do not know what has become of them, and death here seems to
be impermanent at best."
Jeanne shot a sidelong glance at Shaka.
Charles turned to the others.
Charles: "These people died in captivity, let them find freedom in
death. We have no tools with which to bury them, if that
was their custom. Let us instead consign them to the
freedom of this great river."
Charles: "Shaw, are those boats with false facades capable of floating?"
Shaw nodded, and Mishima roused himself.
Mishima: "Yes; consigning them to the river is a fitting disposal in
this place. Let them find more to their next lives here.
The river will carry them to their fates."
Together, the group carried the bodies to the false boats. Their
expressions varied from Shaka's look of distaste to Jeanne's almost
reverent posture as she murmured over each corpse.
Jeanne took Charles aside for a quiet word.
Jeanne: "It is not right for them to have died so, unshriven and
alone. I know you are a man of God, will you not say
something over them to speed them on their way to their
reward in Heaven?"
Charles nodded.
When the bodies were gathered and placed on the makeshift craft,
Charles stood.
Charles: "It is our sad but honorable duty to shrive these fallen men
and women, so that when they reach the afterlife, the True
afterlife - not this purgatory -- they will arrive with
clean souls."
Charles: "By the power that was vested in me by the Holy Church of
Rome, I absolve these souls from all sin, and commend their
spirits into the hands of our Holy Father. Amen."
While Charles paused, looking about, Jeanne crossed herself and
whispered "Amen."
charles: "If these people were not Christian, then I beseech our Lord
to give them haven and succor in heaven before they return
to their own place of rest."
Charles: "If these people do not attain Heaven, let it not be for the
sins they have committed here, and let the next life they are
brought into, be more peaceful and prosperous than this."
Charles: "Go now and Journey on this river to the better life which
awaits you."
As Mishima, Louis, and Charles began to push the boats out onto the
River, Josephine and Benjamin ran between them and used their
firelighters to set each boat ablaze. They burned quickly and
brightly, the flames licking up the weak masts as the craft drifted
out into the current. Charles spoke to Jeanne in a reverie.
Charles: "It is strange... In my First life, I would never had thought
of what might become of a soldier or fallen friend, when
death came. I thought always of striving for heaven. I
never thought of being born again. I know that God guides
our way, and my faith is strong. In time, I hope to see the
wisdom of his plan."
When all the boats were launched, he turned to the others again.
Charles: "Let's search the camp. We must take anything that the
slavers left for us. I would like to hold a council tonight
to share our thoughts and ideas on where and how we should
proceed. I would that Tjar could see me now -- perhaps this
is something of his 'democracy' "
He grinned wryly and set to work rummaging through the camp with
Mishima and the others.
Josephine: "Perhaps while the others discuss you could show me what
makes one boat more seaworthy than another?"
She half smiles and glances between the 'acceptable' craft and one of the
others, looking back at him she arches an eyebrow.
Shaw nodded and smiled, and they examined the single seaworthy vessel
from top to bottom, Shaw, at Josephine's encouragement, going into
great detail about its careful construction and the rigging of its
sails. Josephine listened raptly, smiling prettily all the while.
Benjamin approached the two at the ship's bow, and pointed to the
circle painted around the prow.
Benjamin: "Shaw, do you know what that Circle signifies?"
Shaw: "Hm, circles stand for many different things in many different
cultures, it is hard to say what this stands for with out
knowing more about who build this ship."
Benjamin: "Joseph?"
Joseph shook his head.
Jeanne: "Perhaps it did not belong to Temuchin's people at all, but to
a third party who arrived in this camp while Temuchin was
stalking ours. It may be that person who killed the slaves,
for surely Temuchin would not do so himself."
Louis: "Why slaughter the slaves? If Temuchin or his followers knew
we were coming, why not ambush us? Why leave and kill their
workers? This makes no sense."
Louis: "I have had no dealings with Temuchin, or for that matter
anyone else in this place. Can someone explain who Temuchin
is and how he is involved with Joseph, if at all?"
Louis addresses Joseph.
Louis: "Is this your work? Are you involved, indirectly or otherwise,
in this wanton slaughter?"
Joseph: "I had nothing to do with this. Temuchin met me, with his men,
at the appointed place outside your camp. I do not butcher
men without cause."
Shaw stepped off the boat and joined the others searching the camp.
He found no signs of what he was seeking, however...evidence of metal
or its forging.
Mishima shrugged to himself as he searched the huts. He wondered why
he was involved in this matter of the slavers; it did not seem to him
to be part of his story, though perhaps his was a supporting role for
Shaka. He was about to give up on his search when he found a bamboo
box hidden in a corner of one of the larger huts.
Mishima called out to the others. "I've found something!" The
something turned out to be a cleverly crafted bamboo box. Inside were
20 cigars and a passable drawing of the face of a woman. Showing it to
the others brought a gasp of recognition. It was an image of
Cleopatra. Mishima brought it to the grailstone where they gathered
to await the evening meal.
Charles: "I would like your council tonight -- We must decide our
course of action, and our traveling companions. We should
choose our next goal, how we will provide food and water for
ourselves, What we should do with Joseph of Stalin, and
perhaps attempt to reason out what is in store for us, and
if we have any say in our destiny here on this great river."
Shaw: "We should not leave right away, we should take at least a day
to familiarize our selves with this craft, and learn how she
handles. I can also teach every one the basics of ship
handling"
Shaka: "Why expose ourselves to the risks of travel by water? A man
walking can run, can fight. We need no boats."
Jeanne's eyes moved across the group, lingering on Shaka's face as she
passed it.
Each time she saw him, she could not help but shudder slightly. It
simply could not be that he was Jesus reborn; this must be a test of
her faith. She would eventually find a crack in his facade, and
perhaps she could even find a way to make this creature of Satan
reveal his true nature.
Finally, she nodded at Shaw.
Jeanne: "I too prefer to travel on the River."
Mishima: "And I agree with Shaka."
Before the others could continue, the grailstone spouted its
fire. As they retrieved their grails from the stone, Freud jerked back
in surprise.
"There are two new bodies here!"
That was the first thing they heard as they awoke, the two men lying
naked next to one another under a grailstone. Oddly, it was not
morning, when the lazari were usually resurrected, but evening, and
standing around them were a group of people, men and women of a
variety of heights and complexions. The man who had spoken, in
accented English, was light-skinned. Behind him they could see a tall
muscled black-skinned man, a dark-skinned woman, a Japanese man, and
two other light-skinned men and a woman. A man sat on the ground, his
arms and legs bound, with another man watching over him.
The new resurrectees opened their eyes and fastened the ubiquitous
towels beside them into simple garments. Both were fair-skinned. The
taller of the two had dark hair and dark eyes; the shorter also had
dark hair, but his eyes were a piercing blue in color.
* * * *
* * * *
The darkening sky draped the group in shadows as they regarded the new
lazari, the first they had seen reborn in the evening rather than the
morning.
The man with the blue eyes looked around at the others. "What am I
doing here?" he said, surprised. "This isn't where I was yesterday.
Or I don't think so. Or maybe I died a second time, there was that
commotion in the night. Yes, that seems likely, since I woke up under
the stones, just like those couple of people who showed up the same
way."
Benjamin smiled good-naturedly. "Greetings. My name is Benjamin.
Welcome to our Company. Perhaps you could tell us of your previous
Lives, especially in this World? How many Days in this Place have you
been? Do you remember them?" He spoke first in English, which the
blue-eyed man seemed to recognize, and then in French, to which both
of the new resurrectees responded. The conversation continued in
French, with a man called "Shaw" translating for the others in the
group.
The blue-eyed man looked his new neighbors over and smiled. "You can
call me Ehrich," he replied. "I'm from Wisconsin. Dabbled a bit in
odd jobs, mostly had some carny acts in side shows, but I've done some
aviation too. Ruptured something and died in 26. Then I ended up
here, a unexpected sort of spirit world. Folks made do, and although
we heard stories about bandit kingdoms and czars elsewhere on the
river, we made out ok with only spots of mobs, gangs, and the
occasional politician."
Mandragola got to his feet somewhat warily, surveying the others with
an intrigued look in his eyes. After listening to the exchange between
Ehrich and Benjamin for a while, he spoke up. "You will call me
Mandragola. All you need to know of my days on earth is that I was a
writer and politician. On this world, I found myself with bandits and
criminals. All were loathsome villains, but although forced to watch
my back, I found myself living well. How I died a second time I do not
know."
All the time, Mandragola will stay slightly apart from the group, observing
both them and his surrounding with a keen eye. He will not be openly
hostile, but neither will he be very friendly.
The dark-skinned woman stood a little on the periphery of the group,
looking over the newcomers, her gaze keen. She seemed disappointed to
see that neither of the men recognized her, and introduced herself as
Josephine.
She was disappointed to see that neither of the men recognized her.
She looked more closely at the new man, Ehrich, and he returned her
gaze. His face seemed familiar, and after a moment she placed it.
He had died when she was 20, but she remembered his face from the
posters. Harry Houdini.
She fell back and whispered to Shaw. Benjamin gave them a sidelong
glance and a short sigh.
"Shaw, that man Ehrich," she spoke quietly into his ear, "I recognize
him. He's Houdini."
Shaw nodded quietly at the information. "Perhaps he has a reason to
use a new name."
The tall black man who Benjamin named "Shaka" shifted the large
iron-bladed scythe he carried. He paused to look at the new
resurrectees and a hint of disappointment flickered past his eyes as
he saw them. He turned to Josephine as if to say something, then
shook his head and seemed to change his mind. Instead, a short,
powerful-looking man greeted them in Latin. With Shaw's help, he named
himself Charles of Aachen.
Speaking through Shaw, the short pale woman who had been watching
Shaka introduced herself as well. "I bid you welcome, in the name of
our Lord Jesus Christ. My name is Jeanne. You have questions for us, I
am sure? I will be happy to answer them when you are ready."
The Asian man greeted them next, in English. "I am Yukio Mishima,
from Japan after your time, I believe. Welcome. I, too, have recently
been brought to this group, led more or less by those two," he
indicated Charles and Shaka, "able warriors, both."
"We seem to be being brought together for a mission here; you will
know more of it in council this evening."
Benjamin smiled. "For now, let us dine. If your Grails were not
resurrected with Food therein, I will be pleased to share mine." No
such sacrifice was necessary, however. The newcomers' grails, like
those of the others, proved to be well-provisioned with balls of fried
grains, a rice-like pasta Shaw called "couscous", olives, and a
chick-pea dip. Some were displeased by the lack of meat in their meal,
but the excellent red wine ameliorated some of their annoyance.
Cigarettes, marijuana sticks, dreamgum, a razor, and lipstick rounded
out the grails' offerings. Jeanne and Shaw, as well as some of the
others, reserved their tobacco and dreamgum in the bottom of their
grail.
When they had eaten their fill, the council began. Benjamin explained
to the newcomers that Shaka had received a dream suggesting that they
head north to discover the source of the iron that had produced
Shaka's scythe, the only metal weapon any of them had seen on the
River. But they could travel either by foot or by boat.
Shaka began the discussion, speaking in English. "I say there is no
other way to go but on foot. When the lion god spoke to me, he did
not indicate we should take to the water. It is far too dangerous
that way anyway. One is defenseless on the water, and cannot hide.
To go that way is surely folly.
Shaw spoke up quickly. "True, your lion god did not say to go by
water, but did he say to go by land? If we walk we would spend all
our time fighting others, and never make it to where out enemy is. On
water we would be able to sail past anyone who we do not need to
fight, and, if this ship truly did belong to our unknown foe, we could
use it to our advantage in the future. Besides, walking would take to
long. I want to find out what is going on and I want to find out
soon."
Mishima spoke up eagerly. "We go north at the command of one of the
powers of this place. We know not how far. For such a journey, by
foot would seem the most fitting means." He turned to Shaw. "Shaw, how
can you want to travel by river? How would we know where to stop, how
to react? How would we know even if we passed our goal?
"If for no other reason, consider that this quest was laid to Shaka;
he plans to walk, and thus so do I."
"We should move soon," Jeanne said forcefully. "If there is a chance
Cleopatra lives..." She gestured to the box of cigars. "Then the
longer we delay the smaller that chance becomes. Let us depart before
the next firing of the grails."
Mishima laughed. "Cleopatra was among you? If she waits for us to
the North, then let us be on our way." He turned more serious and
looked at Jeanne. "But I do not see why you should expect this to be
so. A picture made of a beautiful woman is its own explanation." His
voice turned unusually gentle as he added, "I understand that your
friend disappeared, and if she waits to the North so much the better,
but contain your hopes."
Shaw looked very interested in the cigar box Jeanne had found, and in
the drawing of a woman that lay within it. "May I see that?" he
asked. When Jeanne passed it to him, he examined it closely. "Some
sort of wanted poster, with the payment included? I wonder if there is
one of these for each of us. I for one hope my head is worth more than
20 cigars." He chuckled.
"I agree that Time may be essential now," Benjamin said. "We should
depart northward as soon as possible by Land or by River. It is clear
that our Disposition will not be improved in this Place either."
"Perhaps those who wish to travel by water might scout ahead, then,"
Jeanne suggested, "and those who wish to travel on foot can do so. We
might say we will meet in a certain number of days, unless we come to
trouble, or find a settlement to contact before then."
Charles nodded. "While I do not relish separating our company again,
it would be wise to scout ahead, and it is better to be two groups
working together than two separate. Tomorrow some will travel with
Shaw, and others with Shaka."
Shaka nodded. "And this one," he turned and pointed to Joseph, the
man who sit bound beside Charles, "will be nothing but a liability. I
say we kill him now. Temuchin was not among the reborn, so I say this
one will not be either. He is doing nothing useful for us in any
case, and he has a debt to be paid -- to me."
Shaka ran his thumb along the blade with menace in his eyes. He
address Joseph directly. "I will be swift and merciful, jackal, have
no fear."
"No, Shaka," the man called Louis interjected. "Do not kill him. I
wish to continue to question him. I know you desire your revenge, but
he still may prove useful--a use that might outweigh and outlast what
you wish at this ephemeral moment. Think past your anger...."
Shaw glanced at Joseph. "Shaka and Louis are right, it is high time
that we found a use for him. Dr. Freud," Shaw said to a mild-looking
man who had been silent most of the evening, "you mentioned hypnotism
earlier?"
Freud nodded. "I have found it to be effective."
Shaw looked over at Charles and Louis "And if that does not work I'm
sure there are other ways to encourage him to talk."
Jeanne frowned at the suggestions and when Shaka grudgingly acceded
to allow Freud to work with Joseph, she excused herself and retired to
a hut in the encampment for the night. The others could hear her
praying quietly.
Before she slept, Jeanne cautiously chewed a stick of dreamgum, but
unlike her first bout with the hallucinogen, she saw no visions and
simply drifted into sleep.
Freud brought himself level with Joseph, and raised his
finger. "Joseph," he said in a soothing voice, "this will be painless
and possibly even to your benefit as well. Don't resist." He began
moving his finger before Joseph's eyes, back and forth. "Watch my
finger, and listen to my voice. Your eyelids are getting heavier."
Ehrich watched with considerable interest as Freud droned on,
"heavier...you are drifting...into a peaceful state...peaceful..."
Joseph's eyes dropped shut. "What is your name?" Freud asked.
"Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili," Joseph replied.
"When were you born?"
"December 9, 1879"
Freud nodded at the others. "Ask your questions slowly." Louis took
the lead, proceeding carefully.
"When did you meet Temuchin, the slaver with whom you mounted your
attack on us?"
"The night of the attack. He met me at the predetermined place."
"You didn't know him before that?"
"No."
"How was the place determined?"
"I don't know."
"By whom was the place determined?"
"I don't know. They promised me that Temuchin would be there and that
I would be rewarded for defeating you. But they were wrong - I killed
Shaka and he came back to life! They were wrong..."
Charles interrupted. "How did you manage to attack us without our
hearing you?"
"I found myself in position, with Temuchin, at the appointed time.
How do men's bodies reappear after their deaths?"
Freud spoke again, his words still gentle but clearly chosen with
care.
"When did They talk to you?"
"At night."
"Were you awake or dreaming?"
"I was dreaming."
"What did you dream about?"
"Men and women. Talking to me, everything was so clear and I knew that
I must join them. They were different somehow. They had no souls. They
promised power. They said you would be weakened...from...from..."
He began to shake, first slightly, and then convulsively. Freud waved
the others back and began to speak in his comforting drone again, but
the shaking did not cease, until, final, Joseph's eyelids shot open,
and he slumped down, his eyes wide but unseeing. Freud, shaken, held
his hand to the man's neck but found no pulse there.
Shaka muttered angrily. "He was mine." The others broke up and went to
sleep around the grailstone or in the burned-down huts of what had
once been Temuchin's encampment.
* * * *
The morning dawned over the River, clear and bright. Before the
firing of the grailstone, Josephine moved to the edge of the river and
slipped in, swimming at first quickly, then in sporadic bursts of fast
and slow. Shaw grinned and joined her, swimming energetically and
speaking to her in Latin. "The immersion method," she laughed, as she
splashed him. After a half hour, they left the water and placed their
grails with the others on the grailstone. Josephine made no move to
dress or dry herself.
The others acquainted Jeanne with Joseph's fate. Freud seemed unhappy
with the events of the night before, and restlessly awaited the firing
of the grail. If he hoped to find Joseph or another newly reborn body
beside they grailstone, he was disappointed. Only breakfast was
forthcoming, and after they ate, they stood in a group and made their
plans.
Benjamin was pleased because there were so many things to be pleased
about. Last night's dinner, a new experience for him, had been
delightful; while eating, Benjamin had made small talk with anyone who
seemed familiar with the food, talking about how it was made and from
what. He had given his cigarettes, marijuana, and dreamgum to Shaw, idly
thinking that the whole hemp plant would have been so much more useful
than only the narcotic leaves, the least useful part of the plant.
He and the others had found the razor puzzling, since none of them had
grown facial hair since their rebirth on the River. Moreover, it was
what Josephine called a safety razor, which many of them were
unacquainted with.
Benjamin had been especially glad to see Shaw joking during the
council the night before. Perhaps the group's mood was beginning to
lighten, he thought. Sometimes, they were as bad as Congress. Maybe
Adams was right.
In the morning, Benjamin had watched Josephine swim, considering
joining her. He couldn't help but watch Josephine air-dry herself.
When Josephine and Shaw had left the water, Benjamin went to bathe
himself, swim, and ponder.
Louis had nearly recovered from his anger at Joseph's...escape? No,
that wasn't quite the proper word. Theft was more like it. Someone had
stolen Joseph's life, and thereby his information, from the group.
At breakfast, Benjamin strode purposefully to Shaka. "May I examine
again your Scythe, Shaka?" he asked. When Shaka acceded, Benjamin sat
down with it and examined it thoroughly. Returning it to Shaka, he
noted to the group that it appeared to have been smelted and forged
with ordinary iron-working technology, using a hotter fire than would
be likely with wood or bamboo, and rapidly cooled, probably in the
River.
Ehrich, who had been lost in thought that morning, sat beside Benjamin.
"It seems I've fallen in with a somewhat unusual circle," he said to
the other man. "Not only do you possess the only metal I've seen in
this place, the revelations from the one called Joseph make it seems
as though there are those of power interested in this group as well.
And since I wouldn't be disappointed to discover the secrets behind
this nether world, I'll follow along with your clique."
Benjamin smiled in response.
Mandragola continued to sit apart from the group, but appeared
slightly more relaxed. He listened intently to Benjamin, but
contributed little to the conversation.
Louis, who had spent most of the morning to himself as well, spoke to
the new lazari, introducing himself. "I am Louis St-Just. I died
1794, Paris, France." He ate breakfast with relish, making small-talk
with other members of the group.
Josephine and Shaw sat together at breakfast. Josephine ate sparingly,
smiling and talking with the others over their meal. Noticing the cube
in her grail, she held it out to Shaw. He reached in and removed
it. "Dreams," he said softly, "why is it always dreams?" He stowed
her dreamgum in the bottom of his grail.
Finally, the discussion turned to the group's travel north. Shaka
finished his breakfast and stood with his arms crossed, his scythe
tucked into one of the towels around his waist. "There has been too
much talking over this matter," he complained. "I am proceeding to the
north by land. It is the only sensible way. Now that this 'Iosif' is
dead, we may proceed without hindrance. Those that would come with
me, come with me now. I can lead you safely past anything in our
path."
He continued, "Any of you who wish to come and learn the truth of this
place are welcome to, though I hesitate making the offer to the
newcomers. No offense meant to either of you, but you have not proven
yourself to us. Come with us if you will, but your loyalty must be
proven." He looked over the Ehrich and Mandragola. "To me."
"I am neither a sailor nor a soldier," Mandragola replied, "but I
would much rather venture forth on foot than by water. On the river
there is nowhere to hide, and I suggest that all those considering the
option should think twice. But if Shaw is determined to travel by
boat, then it would appear that you are short of a translator. I am
fluent in many languages and would happily lend my services. I am also
a skilled diplomat, which may come in useful should we encounter any
'unfriendly elements' along the river"
Shaka nodded and motioned for Mandragola to stand beside him. Mishima
stood and joined the two silently.
"I see no reason to traverse the land if we can sail past our
aggressors," Josephine said casually, smiling fondly. "I do recall
taking to the underground pipes to bypass the Germans."
Shaw stood across the circle from those favoring travel by foot and
smiled. "Perhaps going in two groups can work out well," he
agreed. "We can scout ahead in the boat, then meet up at some point
and exchange information."
Josephine shrugged. "We should think about sailing during the evening
hours, though." She grinned and moved her shoulders up and down a
little. "May as well take advantage of the color of my skin, eh?"
With a wink, she snapped her grail closed and stood, stretching and
brushing debris from her body. She walked over to Shaw's side.
"Since my choice of sailing is obvious," she winked, "I'm not letting
you out of my sight, anyways."
Benjamin came to join the sailors, and Ehrich followed him. Louis
stood with Shaka and his group, while Jeanne and Charles took
their places with the boaters.
Freud sighed. "I fear I'm not much use to either group. But if you'll
have me, I'll travel by water." He glanced sidelong at Jeanne as he
spoke.
"We should establish Signals that we might better act in Harmony,"
Benjamin ventured. "I believe a shrill Whistle will carry well over
the Water."
Shaw replied, "I doubt whistles would work over any distance, maybe
some sort of smoke signals?"
"But smoke is difficult to control," Mishima noted. "Perhaps either
smoke or a whistle as a signal for help, and other whistles for other
signals?"
Jeanne offered another possibility. "Perhaps we might also arrange
some signals, if, for example, the land party wishes to warn us not to
come to shore, or we wish to warn them of danger we have seen at a
particular landing? A standard of some sort, painted with these red
sticks on a towel?" She indicated the tube of lipstick from her
grail. "We might make a pair of crossed lines for danger, and a
circle for safe passage. These two should be easily distinguishable
from a distance."
Benjamin agreed. "There is Wisdom in having different Modes of
Signaling." He suggested several short whistle signals: "meet",
"flee", "danger", "attack", and "attention"; Shaka, Ehrich, Josephine,
and Mandragola proved most adept at whistling loudly, but everyone
managed to learn the patterns.
Finally, Charles turned to Shaka, Mishima, Louis, and Mandragola. "A
man can walk between grailstones in a day, but exploration and careful
approach will require more time. We should meet at the third
grailstone to the north, 5 days from now.
"We will use Shaw's guidance and courage to explore the river and
lands to the north, and then meet with you in 5 days time and share
what knowledge each group has learned."
Jeanne nodded. "But the boat people may end up waiting some time for
the land party. Is this acceptable to all?"
When no one dissented, Charles continued. "Let us now say our good
wishes to each other and start on our separate but similar journeys."
Closing his grail and hefting his spear, he approached Shaka. "Go
with speed and stealth - Warrior King Shaka." Turning to each of the
others, he spoke similar words of encouragement. The groups exchanged
farewells, and the sailors headed to the boat with the circle on its
prow.
Shaw unloaded his boat and loaded the new craft with its contents, and
as many towels, weapons, and tools as could be salvaged from the
slaver's camp. Jeanne stowed the bows she had taken from their
attackers. Shaw glanced at the circle and the otherwise unmarked
bow. "It's got no name," he said. "Perhaps one will come to us during
our voyage."
They launched the boat, waving at the four who remained on the shore.
* * * *
In a few moments, they were afloat on the River. Shaw unfurled the
mainsail and the jib, while Josephine instructed the others in hand
signals to be used when silence was required, and inquired about their
swimming and sailing experience. All could swim well enough, and
Benjamin knew much about the principles of sailing despite limited
personal experience. As Shaw demonstrated the action of the sails and
the rudder, Jeanne watched attentively. With plenty of time before
their meeting at the third grailstone, they spent most of the day
practicing sailing maneuvers, tacking up and down the River, with and
against the current which flowed relatively slowly.
On the shore, Shaka addressed the others. "We may travel through
dangerous territory, and we must act with speed and decisiveness. When
I speak, you obey. Mishima," he turned to the Asian man, "is my
subchief. Louis has proved his worth; Mandragola, you have not, but
will surely have the opportunity. Together we can travel safely,
without fear. Take up your weapons and grails, and let us set out."
The men gathered their spears and moved through the Rivervalley,
leaving Temuchin's encampment behind them to the south. They soon lost
sight of the boat, and concentrated on the terrain ahead of them. It
was initially unpopulated; the slavers had evidently driven away or
enslaved their immediate neighbors. As evening approached, they neared
the next grailstone, and crouched in a stand of bamboo.
The huts by the grailstones were not unlike those which the group had
built on the other side of the River before they were invaded. At
dusk, the inhabitants left their dwellings to place their grails in
the grailstone and wait. They resembled Shaka: tall, black-skinned,
and bare-chested, even the women. They were armed with spears. Some
had markings on their faces or chests.
The markings filled Shaka with delight; though not his own tribe, the
people were clearly Zulu.
* * * *
As evening approached, the River-travelers put in on the opposite
side of the river, where they had once been ambushed by Joseph and
Temuchin, and place their grails in the stone. Shaw and Jeanne warned
the others of the people to the north on this side of the River. "We
saw them kill a man," Jeanne said. Shaw added that the killing
appeared to be some form of ritual, but agreed that they should rest
in the early evening and continue on at night, when he could direct
them in nocturnal navigation. The others accepted his plan, and
after dinner, they slept on the boat, tied to the grailstone with a
rope which Shaw had taken from his boat.
When he was sure the others were not looking, Shaw took out the cube
of dreamgum he had taken from Josephine earlier, and put it in his
mouth, curious about its effects. He was not disappointed. After a few
minutes of chewing, the gum took on an unpleasantly acidic flavor and
he fell into a heavy stupor. Images flashed before his eyes: the
people to the north, the sacrifice, a group of men and women watching
them from above, and arguing. One of the women, wearing a shirt with a
huge lion on the chest, turned as if to look at him, staring into his
eyes and making him sleepier. All returned to the darkness of sleep,
and when he awoke, the darkness of night.
* * * *
The River-travelers awakened as the sun had set over the Rivervalley.
Ehrich removed his razor from his grail and examined it carefully. He
tried turning the handle, shaking it, and prying the top off, all to
no avail. Brandishing it like a sword, he laughed,. "Not much good
for defense either. It must be good for something though." Pulling
out a stick of bamboo from the folds his towels, he carefully scored
the end of the stick with the razor and proceeded to peel off a thin
strip of bamboo. Then stray splinters were trimmed off with the razor
edge and the rough backside smoothed down. What resulted was a thin
strip about a foot long, but not as wide as a finger. He put this in
his grail, and proceeded to make two more just like it. Finally, he
pulled at the edge of a towel he was wearing and examined it closely,
frowning at the results. He tried cutting the edge of it with the
razor, and succeeded in extracting a long thread.
He also noticed Charles and Shaw watching him from the back of the boat.
Watching Ehrich, Charles and Shaw conferred briefly. "I do not know
yet if we can trust Ehrich," Charles whispered. "If we stand watches,
Ehrich must stand watch with one of us. He may be what he says, but
he may not. Try to question him, and draw him out on his history. "
"This Ehrich," Shaw replied. "Josephine and I believe we recognize him
as a man from our time, an entertainer. He was well known all over the
world. I do not believe he is an enemy. Still," he agreed, "it can not
hurt to be cautious."
Charles pondered the River around him, as he had often before.
Purgatory, he knew, was a place for those who were not yet prepared
for heaven. He rued the blood he had spilled in the wars to unite his
kingdoms, and vowed to avoid taking up arms again if he could help
it. But to unify his followers, he must provide them each with a
reason to exist. In Aachen, he had built a forward-thinking court by
surrounding himself with intelligent and motivated people; perhaps he
could do the same here.
When the group held a whispered conference as Shaw untied the still
nameless boat from the grailstone, Charles bore himself sadly as he
addressed each in turn. His first words were for Freud.
"Freud, what do you think you learned from Joseph's few words before
death?" Charles asked. "And for that matter, what is your opinion of
this place we find ourselves in?"
Freud shook his head. "He might have been deluded or taking dreamgum
when he heard his voices and had his dreams. Hypatia had similar
dreams, and Shaka has seen visions, but we have all been together; it
could be no more than suggestion. This place -- we have not yet
fathomed it, but it must obey some laws, some science." He rubbed
his chin, and then stopped, startled. "I think my beard may be growing
back."
The other men felt their faces, but they were as smooth as they had
been the day before. Charles turned to Jeanne, and continued, "Jeanne,
I would ask you to discuss religion with me, while we travel. I will
help to keep my knowledge sharp, and it is something that we share in
common. If that would not trouble you -- I would like to learn what
your life was like, back before this river... Would you share that
with me, If I shared my story with you?" Jeanne nodded silently in
response.
"Josephine, Your body and soul are truly beautiful," Charles
continued. "I am grateful you are with us, as, I suppose, is
Shaw.... Can I ask that aside from teaching, you also help to maintain
the morale of the group -- your humor and light are a beacon in
darkness."
Josephine made a face and replied with a laugh in her voice. "I
suppose I'll just be me. I can't be a.. a... cruise director!"
Charles turned to Benjamin. Can you tell me more about the making of
metal weapons -- how we might gather the materials to forge our own?
Also, I would know what you remember from others, in your previous
life, here in the river. What is known of this place -- I wish to
make you my chronicler -- Can you memorize and recite, as well as
speak many languages? Would you want such a task, or would you prefer
something else?"
"To be sure, sir," Benjamin began, "I can memorize, I can write, and
while it may be a long time before we can build a proper Press, or
even Parchment and Ink, I will gladly write for you a Brief Chronicle
of our Cause and our Labors when that Time comes. My Memory is not
what it once was, of course, but I will recite as well as I can until
we have proper Instruments of recording.
"Ink is unlikely," Jeanne responded, "but we have found that if you
char a stick of bamboo in a fire, it can be used as a drawing
tool. Perhaps you might write your notes on something with that. One
of the towels, maybe, or a larger piece of bamboo, if you didn't mind
the curved surface. Maria used to write on bark, God rest her soul."
"Ink is relatively easy for us to procure; it can be manufactured from
any number of Flora and Fauna. Admittedly, not good ink, not without
Implements and Industry, but we must make do. Quills might also be
improvised. However, one of these Towels will hardly be enough to
write the Chronicles of our Cause and Labors on! No, there is nothing
for it but Parchment. Perhaps when we have time to settle in one
Location long enough, we could build a Mill. That is easily within
our Industry, with a bit of Ingenuity and Work. From there to
Parchment is but a small Step.... (ahem) He who makes what he needs,
will never need what he cannot make."
"Forging metal Weapons," Benjamin continued, nodding at Jeanne's
remarks, "or metal Implements of any sort, is not something easily
done, Charles, and this is why I am so greatly puzzled that the
Slavers could do it. Ore must be mined, usually with Picks, Axes, and
other Implements themselves metallic. The ore must be heated to a
fierce Heat, hotter than any burning Wood... Coal is a possibility,
but the Scythe was not made in such a Furnace, it lacks the Patterns.
One must have a Furnace itself capable of withstanding the same heat,
usually made of Ceramic or Metal. And an Anvil and Hammer for
shaping, also of metal; and a source of cold Water nearby. It is no
small Undertaking to build up the Industry to do this without some
Implements to start with. I should think it would take years to
achieve it from nothing. So I do not see how the Slavers could have
done it. This Mystery has weighed heavily on my Mind, in fact.
Perhaps the Scythe came through a Grailstone, though it seems hard to
credit."
"Benjamin is right," Shaw agreed, nodding. "The slavers could never
made that weapon. The didn't have the time or the materials. Maybe we
will find out where this scythe came from when we find what ever
Shaka's lion god sent us to find.
"I was a mechanic back on earth, helped design aeroplanes. Quite a lot
can be made with what we seem to have to work with here. In time we
could build buildings, weapons, all the comforts of home..given time I
think I could even throw together a working glider."
Shaw leaned against the side of the boat and tapped his grail with his
foot. "Still, I doubt we could make anything like this, or any of the
goodies that appear inside it."
Charles turned next to the newest member of the group. "Ehrich, I did
not welcome you properly when you arrived. I am Charles of Aachen --
known in your time as Charlemagne. I am the leader of this group, by
consensus vote -- something called 'democracy' I believe. Since you
were not among us -- you owe no allegiance or honor to that pledge.
Know that you are free to choose your own path, though welcome to join
ours."
Ehrich smiled. "Charlemagne, huh? And Ben Franklin. Interesting.
You don't appear that old. Last place I was at, everyone died about
the same time and were from the same place. I hadn't realized there
might be people here who died so long ago. But if we're all here at
the same time, what time is it in the physical world, that is, the
world of the living?"
Josephine chuckled. "I died in 1975, so it's at least that."
After a pause, Ehrich continued. "Say Charles," he said, "Has anyone
ever contacted you from the living world? You know, speaking with the
dead, that sort of thing? I've run across several folk who claim to
have done so, but they all turned out to be frauds. People want to
talk to their dead great aunt, or some great historical figure, but
never to a historical nobody."
Charles shook his head, surprised.
"Well," Ehrich concluded, "I don't know how great a builder I am. I'd
love to have a knife, then things would be simple. I suppose I can
cobble together odds and ends, but I'm used to actually having tools
around."
"This Ritual of Death of which you spoke," Benjamin murmured softly to
Jeanne, "What Manner of Man was it that was killed? What Manner of
Men performed the Ritual, and how did they do so?"
"Their skin was darker than mine," she replied, "but not as dark as
Shaka's, and they painted their eyes round with something darker. They
stood in a circle, singing or chanting, until one woman raised her
hand to point at some hapless fellow -- I don't know how or why she
chose him. The others grabbed him and held him down while stabbing at
him with stone knives. It was horrible, meaningless." She shuddered.
"None of them made a sound while he died, all you could hear was the
sound of the stones hitting..." She fell silent.
"Yes," Shaw took up the tale. "They spoke a language I did not
understand. They are probably ancient Egyptians, although I can not be
sure. I saw no than 20. The only weapons I saw were pointed stones. I
wouldn't even go so far as to call them daggers. They had a small fire
but did not seem to have the means to make one hot enough to forge
metal. They killed that man in cold blood. Pierced his heart, and let
his blood drain out of his body. I would suggest caution if we stop to
talk." Jeanne shuddered again.
Charles looked at Shaw. "The boat is yours to captain. However, I
would like to sail close to the grail north of here, on this river. I
would like to see what 'neighbors' we have. How far north can we sail,
and still be back to the third grail, by the fifth day -- I would like
to reconnoiter as far as possible."
"If the wind is favorable," Shaw replied, "we should be able to
achieve two grails a day northward, and three a day when we turn back
to sail with the current. We could travel as far as 6 grails north of
here in three days and meet the others after another day of sailing
back, leaving us a day's worth of exploration. Or, if we wish to sail
only at night, we can sail 4 grails north in three nights and then
return in less than a night.
"But as for tonight, we'd better get started."
Before they cast off, Ehrich removed a cube of dreamgum from his grail
and dipped it into the water, softening it with his fingers until it
was a gooey mass, which he rolled into a ball and returned to his
grail, removing some of the bamboo he had stored there. Ehrich
scraped at the bamboo with his razor, creating a small pile of
shavings and dust which he placed in one of his grail containers.
"There, that should be good enough to start a fire or create smoke
quickly," he said.
Shaw began shouting orders, and the group managed to raise the
mainsail and the jib on the boat. They took turns with Shaw and
Josephine at the rudder, learning to steer the boat upRiver. A fair
wind filled the mainsail from the stern, and Josephine hummed to
herself as they sailed, standing up and stretching now and then.
"We need to find a common language," Shaw suggested. "If there is an
emergency we will not have the time to translate. I believe most of us
speak English and French. Perhaps on of those could serve."
"We all speak French but Charles," Josephine suggested. "At least I
think I heard Freud speak some once. And Charles speaks Latin. Maybe
you could teach me more Latin, and I could help Charles with French."
She smiled. "If I can't dance, at least I can exercise my mind."
Further forward on the boat, Benjamin and Charles conversed in Latin.
Benjamin gladly filled Charles in on his life on Earth, from his days
as a printer's apprentice in Boston and then in Philadelphia, his time
trying to reconcile England and the Colonies, his eventual change of
disposition to supporting Independency and his work making it happen,
his studies into Philosophy including his work on Electricity and
Magnetism, his other inventions, his diplomatic missions to France and
other parts of Europe, and of course his long association with
printing and publishing. The story was sprinkled with aphorisms and
words of wisdom, discussion of the virtues of Frugality and Common
Sense, and lots of humor, self-effacing and otherwise. The story of
his time on Riverworld was mostly hum-drum, centering on his meeting a
woman who lived in the early 1960s, a history professor, who taught
him much of history after his death, and who eventually led to his
next death when a jealous lover found him with her. "And you already
know the Remainder, sir," he concluded.
"It is well that we have an engineer aboard!" Charles smiled after
hearing Benjamin's story. "We must soon begin to remake a
civilization, to build things, to make things, to rise up from the
fringes of existence, and make use of tools once again."
Privately, Shaw disagreed. The rebirth of civilization could be left
to the millions of others in the Riverworld. He felt that the group
had a higher purpose, and personally felt that his time would be
better spent ferreting out the mysteries of the new world.
The dreamgum experiment had been promising, he thought; he would try
again later if the water was calm and Josephine could steer the boat.
Jeanne, Freud, and Ehrich joined Benjamin and Charles. Jeanne turned
to Charles and took up her own tale.
"My life was unremarkable," she began, "save that I answered when the
Lord called me, instead of huddling afraid in the dark like Jeremiah.
Perhaps I had better begin at the beginning." She settled herself more
comfortably in her seat. "The dukes of France were divided, Burgundy
siding with the King of England whose claim to the throne of France
was being pressed upon the French people. The Dauphin had his
followers as well, but they lacked hope. The Lord saw fit to use me as
a vessel, I brought them His message, that the Dauphin would be
crowned King of France if he followed His instructions."
Her expression eased, as she lost herself in the memory of that happy
time. Slowly her lips curved in a beatific smile. "They did not
believe me at first; and who can blame them? But my voices did not
abandon me and I was able to convince the Dauphin and his priests of
my sincerity. The Lord instructed me to lead them to Orleans, and so I
did. In under ten days time we lifted the siege of the city, but the
voices would not let me rest. We moved on, battling our way to Reims,
where what the Lord had promised me did come to pass: the Dauphin was
crowned King Charles VII."
Her smile faded somewhat as she continued. "Then the voices fell
silent; I thought we should continue to Paris, but the King had forged
a deal with the English. In my pride I thought to take Paris without
His guidance; I failed."
Jeanne fell silent, her expression dark.
Shaw stood up. "I did not have as much opportunity to rest
earlier. Josephine can handle the boat for a time while I sleep. Wake
me when we approach the next grailstone." The others nodded and
continued talking as he crept under the small covered hold near the
front of the boat.
In the darkness, Josephine thought she could see him take something
from his grail as he nestled into the corner and went to sleep.
Sheltered by the darkness of the hold, Shaw chewed on another piece of
dreamgum. His body felt warm as he again saw visions of men, women,
firelight, a lion's mane, a bicycle. The scenes were cloudy, but
becoming sharper, and he seemed to be moving toward a truth, a
realization, but did not quite reach it when he dropped into a
peaceful sleep.
Before long they came upon the next grailstone. A small fire could be
seen blazing beside it, and a group of people were gathered about the
fire, humming together. Charles woke Shaw, and the group considered
what they should do.
* * * *
Breaking off a piece of bamboo of around 14 inches, Mandragola
sharpened it into a dagger with his razor, and then proceeded to do
the same with a longer piece. A hollow length became a blow-pipe; some
small shards, darts.
Louis spoke first. "I suggest we wait and watch the people of this
village. Surveillance might reveal weaknesses is they should prove
hostile. I think we can afford to miss a meal. The strategic value
might prove more worth than sustenance."
"No," Mandragola replied. "I doubt strongly whether spending any more
time watching these people will improve our position. We must decide
what to do now, and act now. Let us not forget that that we have
agreed to meet Shaw further down river. To leave him and the others
waiting would not be...gentlemanly." To the surprise of the others,
he giggled girlishly.
Mishima looked at Shaka, expressionless.
He knew Shaka would want to be heard first. Shaka's return disturbed
the Japanese man, and made him irritable for reasons he did not yet
fathom.
Shaka's eyes were alight as he watched the dark-skinned people. At
first he seemed prepared to stride out from his hiding place, but the
words of Louis and Mandragola stayed him momentarily. "I understand
the value of caution," he said, "but understand me now, these people
are Zulu -- My people! On Earth, I was their King, their first true
king. Until I led them, the Zulu were a borderline tribe, but under
me we conquered most of what I understand you called Africa."
He continued. "These people will revere me as their King and follow me
without question! We could not be safer anyplace on the river!"
He parted the bamboo and walked into the open, holding his scythe
above his head. He spoke Zulu in a clear voice.
"Greetings," he cried, "my people, my children. It is I, Shaka Zulu,
and I have come, sent by the gods of this place, to lead you again!"
The people looked up with a start, and formed ranks, pointing their
spears toward Shaka. They replied in the same language.
"You speak our tongue, though you do not wear the markings of the
tribe upon your body," one replied. "We know of no Shaka Zulu; I,
Pala, lead here by virtue of my birthright and my strength in the ways
of the Zulu."
"Behold," Shaka said, "I have a scythe of steel, unknown on this
world. I took it from the devil himself, and survived death and hell
to return to lead you. I was directed here by the lion god of this
world, and we will go together to a place where there is more metal
like this. We will build many weapons, annex many new peoples, and
rule again!"
Pala looked unconvinced.
* * * *
Still hiding in the bamboo, Louis tensed, ready to spring forth should
the tribe prove hostile. His only sound was a whisper to Mandragola
and Mishima. "We should let Shaka attempt to convince them." he
hissed. "However, we should protect him if they move to attack."
Mishima nodded silently in return.
Mandragola eyed the Zulu, looking for a woman he might take hostage
for their safety, should it come to a fight.
Briefly eyeing the bamboo, Shaka faced the man who had come forward
from the Zulu and scowled. Again he spoke in Zulu.
"You, who name yourself Pala." he challenged the other. "You say you
do not know me, and this puzzles me. You speak the language of the
people, but you have not heard of Shaka? King of the Zulu? I do not
know much about the nature of this place, but I think I understand
what has happened here. All the spirits of the people of mother earth
come here when they die, even people from strange lands the Zulu have
never heard of. Here they are born young again, with their bodies
hairless and circumcised strangely. And when they die, they are born
again, next to this river."
Shaka paused and pointed to the river before continuing.
"I know the name of all the Zulu chieftains before I took the tribe
and turned it into a nation. You were not one of them. And yet you
say you do not know of me, and yet I have spoken to people who were
born in strange lands long after I died who knew of me. Surely my own
people would know me."
As Shaka raised his scythe in a combat stance, the three in the bamboo
prepared to attack, but waited for the conversation to end. To their
surprise, Shaka continued speaking, unobstructed, and the other
responded.
"I have not the shield of our people," Shaka concluded, "nor the spear
I taught them to use. I hold the scythe of the devil, and I will use
it to bring the this land under one rule. The Zulu warrior will be
the tip of my spear, if you truly are what you claim to be. Pala, I
challenge your leadership of these people."
"I was no king," Pala responded, "and no chief, but a headman. Yet of
these people, I have most claim to chieftainship and they have chosen
me to lead them. I am a man of the Zulu clan of the Nguni, a keeper of
fields and herds. If you would prove yourself King, you must do that
which only the a King could do -- call on the ancestors, perform a
sorcery, bring rain."
The other Zulu murmured at their leader's words, and looked
expectantly at Shaka.
* * * *
In the silent darkness, peering out toward the grailstone, the fire,
and the people seated in a circle about it, the lazari each fell into
reveries, mesmerized by the flicking light.
* * * *
Before dinner, Charles had spoken with Shaw. "I did not mean to
exclude you as a translator, your help has been invaluable to our
group. Please accept my apologies."
Shaw chuckled and wave his hand.
"Do you know," Charles continued, "how we might catch fish or
creatures in this this river, if there be an fish or creatures in
here? I have no knowledge of my previous time here, and do not know
if fish exist. They would be a fine change to the diet, and would
provide us with skin for parchment and bone for tools.
"However, I am not adept at catching fish. Would you teach me so that
we might catch them together?"
"I am not much of a fisherman myself," Shaw replied, "but there are
many fish in this river and I have seen people catch them. It should
not be to hard to catch something I suppose. We'll see what we can do
at daylight. But for now," he yawned, "I think I'll rest."
After Shaw had left, Jeanne sought Charles out and the two spoke
quietly for some time.
"I have left my crosses behind," she began. "They were too large to
bear away from the settlement; as time permits I will perhaps make a
smaller one to carry on my person. Would you wish one, also?"
Charles smiled at Jeanne and nodded. "Your devotion does you
credit. We must never forget His Love."
A hopeful look crossed Jeanne's face. "Are you, by chance, a priest?
I have not been shriven, nor received Eucharist once since waking in
this place and I feel directionless..." She lowered her voice even
further.
"My guiding voices have left me, and He does not speak to me here. My
days are dark and I know not what He wishes of His humble servant,"
she finished.
* * * *
"I'm sure there must be some rules and laws behind this place," Ehrich
had said to Freud, "Someone behind a curtain that we don't see. But
not everything is necessarily subject to science, something may sit
outside of science and so not be concerned with rules or laws. I have
never found such a thing, but if I ever will, I'm sure it will be in
this place."
Freud sighed softly. "Even science may concern itself too much with
rules, or not enough with laws."
Josephine had a curious look on her face as she watched Shaw sleeping.
Frowning slightly, she contemplated the River and how to best steer
the boat, half-listening to the conversations of the others. Smiling a
brilliant smile, she invited Ehrich to join her, and asked him eagerly
about his life on earth.
"Did you, perhaps," she queried, "get to visit Paris? I, myself,
lived there during the roaring '20's. Quite a wild time, if I do say
so myself. I have to admit, I managed to raise a few eyebrows from
time to time."
She winked and sort of hummed to herself, her eyes encouraging
responses.
Ehrich shook off the stunned look he had had around Josephine since
learning when she had died, and nodded. "Yes, I was in Paris, London,
Berlin, and several other cities several times in the early twenties.
I must say though, I don't recall you, so maybe you raised eyebrows
after my time, or I didn't put in enough effort keeping track of what
was happening around me. Although Paris at that time, I'm sure, would
have paid a beautiful black woman a lot of attention."
Josephine arched her eyebrows and smiled at Ehrich. "Why, thank
you. Perhaps you're worthy of attention yourself."
Ehrich began to busy himself with calisthenics. Josephine flashed him
another smile and joined in to the extent that she was able while
steering the ship. Her movements included more isometric and
stretching exercises.
* * * *
Breaking out of their memories, the group again looked out at the
firelit gathering by the grailstone. Jeanne told the others that they
appeared to be the people she had witnessed performing a human sacrifice.
Charles shuddered. "I do not think it wise to put our boat in at this
grailstone. We are on a mission of reconnaissance, not of engagement.
It is night, and we would need to sleep or stay awake all night.
There are a score of them, and less than half that many of us. The
grailstone will not give food until morning. I think if we push on
north, we will be at the next Grailstone by morning by the time it
fires."
"I would rather tighten my belt and lose a meal, then have my belly
filled with sharp rocks." Charles grins. Freud shivered and nodded.
Benjamin's tone also signified approval. "Or we might sail to the
stone across the River."
"Should we not speak with them?" Ehrich suggested. "Need we distrust
them?"
"Perhaps if one of us who has seen the ritual were to swim closer to
the River's edge and observe, we could make a more intelligent
decision?" Josephine suggested.
A low-voiced chanting began from the circle, and Shaw shook his
head. "It's them all right."
* * * *
At the sound of the chanting, Benjamin started. "Does that Chant mean
they are about to sacrifice another Man? Should we not come to his
Aid?"
On saying this, Benjamin gets very worked up and is anxious to act
quickly and decisively, leaving it to Charles to work out a strategy
to rescue the man, but itching to play his part in it.
"I think it would be a bad idea if we were to interrupt their ritual,"
Shaw replied, "and I don't see any point in rescuing someone who will
be alive again anyhow. If we are going to approach them I suggest we
do so in the morning. We could take a look at who is on the other side
of the river until then."
Benjamin's face darkened for a second, then brightened to a cheery
countenance. "Incredible! Yes, Shaw, of course you're right, I was
foolish to not have seen it."
"We can see what inhabitants are like on the other side," Ehrich
agreed, "and if we should return to here later, the sacrifice will be
over, and the inhabitants will likely be less hostile when disturbed."
Charles shook his head. "I think it is best that we move along to the
next grail on this side of the river. If we move across the river,
we will surely run into Shaka and his people, and we are not to meet
them for another 4 days. "Let us learn all that we can of the nearby
areas, before we stop to investigate too closely."
Josephine's eyes caught the motion first and she pointed toward the
grailstone. The group of chanters, perhaps a dozen in all, had been
joined by another half-dozen, who carried a struggling figure, pulling
him roughly toward the woman dancing in the middle of the circle. A
new sound rose over the chanting; the figure's masculine voice
screaming in some sort of accented English. "Get the bloody f*ck off
of me, you bloody bastards!"
* * * *
Mandragola watched Shaka restlessly, wishing he could add his superior
diplomatic skills to the situation, but finding no opportunity.
Louis relaxed slightly at the Zulu conversing with Shaka. They might
be deferring to him, he thought, better not to interfere. He turned to
the other two.
"It appears for the moment," Louis whispered to Mandragola and
Mishima, "that Shaka has this under his power as leader of the Zulus,
as he has stated. Let him summon us before we reveal ourselves. Who
knows if the color of our skin shall prove offensive...."
Fire blazed in Shaka's eyes as he stood before the group's leader and
spoke proudly.
"If it is a rain-making you want, it is a rain-making you will
receive, for I am Shaka, your rightful king." He moved to the fire and
gestured to the other villagers to make it brighter. He looked at the
dark sky.
"I will begin the magic making," he continued, "and you will have rain
before the sun rises again. This is the way, and I am your leader.
Once this is done, let there be no doubt any longer."
Shaka pointed to the bushes and spoke words in both Zulu and English.
"There are my companions." he proclaimed. "They shall stand by my side
as I perform the rite, and none shall hinder them, though they are
strange to behold. They are named Louis, the dubious, and Mandragola,
the newcomer. They speak none of our tongue, but they shall serve me
as I perform the magic."
Louis and Mandragola stepped quickly from the bushes before the
villagers could approach and discover Mishima, who remained hidden.
The village leader gave Shaka a sly look and spoke again. Shaka
explained that his name was Pala and translated his words for the
others.
"It is known to us that it rains each night in this demon-world." Pala
said. "Wait with us as guests until the morning and then perform your
magic by the light of day. Bring rain and we are yours forever; fail
and learn what true Zulu do to false kings."
* * * *
Charles reacted at the sound of the voice, and whispered to Shaw,
"stay with the boat and repel boarders."
Benjamin stood transfixed, watching the curious dance of the woman and
the rest of the circle. When the voice from the clearing rang out,
Benjamin turned back to the others as if to speak, clearly edgy, but
only got as far as opening his mouth before closing it again. He
turned to watch again. Once more, he turned as if to speak, thought
better of it, and turned back.
Finally, without saying a word, Benjamin suddenly dove off the side of
the boat and began swimming, quickly and quietly with strong strokes,
towards the beach just upRiver from the dance. Ehrich and Josephine
followed him into the water with but a moment's hesitation.
"Well so much for planning," Charles muttered. "Can we move the boat
closer for a rescue attempt?" he asked Shaw. "I think that voice
belongs to Tjar, Theodore Roosevelt... We should make for shore, then
attempt a rapid rescue. Charge in, grab him and run like the devil is
behind us, back here to the boat. Agreed?"
Jeanne nodded. "It is our obligation to protect the weak." She look
askance as the wakes of the swimmers.
She knew that only witches and warlocks could float in water.
"Damn bunch of fools," Shaw scoffed disgustedly. "I can bring us right
up to the shore, Jeanne could stay and provide cover with her
bow."
The others agreed, and Jeanne nocked a bamboo arrow to one of the
bows, passing the other to Shaw. Freud took up a spear and crouched in
the boat, as Shaw brought it closer to shore, downRiver of the
encampment. Freud followed Charles onto their beachhead, approaching
the campfire from the opposite direction as the swimmers, who had
reached the upRiver bank. Only Josephine remained in the water.
As the flickering firelight cast grotesque shadows on the faces of the
chanting men and women, the woman in the center of the circle held her
sharpened stone high over her head and cried out in an unintelligible
tongue. The men dragged the swearing Englishman before her, and bent
him backward, his chest thrust toward the woman. His eyes were wide.
"Damn you bleeding cocksuckers!"
From the water, Josephine's voice sang out:
"Allons, enfants de la patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrive!
Contre nous, de la tyrannie,
L'etendard sanglant est leve;
l'etendard sanglant est leve!
Entendez vous dans les campagnes,
Mugir ces feroces soldats?
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras
Egorger nos fils, nos compagnes!"
Few among the lazari recognized the words of the Marseillaise, and
none among the chanters, but the song had its desired effect. The
chanting broke, and all eyes turned to the dark water. At that moment,
Charles and Freud charged the campfire from the south, Benjamin and
Ehrich from the north. Caught between the two and the hissing of
bamboo arrows which seemed to appear from darkness, the tan-skinned
chanters fled, leaving behind their captive, who dropped to the
ground, exhausted. As Charles and Freud dragged the man back to the
boat, they were joined by Benjamin, Ehrich, and finally Josephine,
grinning and murmuring quietly,
"Aux armes, citoyens!
Formez vos bataillons!
Marchons ! Marchons!
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons!"
Shaw brought the boat back into the River itself. He spoke with
obvious displeasure. "Well, I for one am glad to see that they did not
have three extra sacrifices this night."
* * * *
Louis whispered to Shaka from the side of his mouth. "I mean you no
offense, but do you have a plan, other than fighting for our lives, if
it does not rain when you say it will?"
Mandragola, scowling menacingly, added, "If these people look like
they might fight, it may be wise to tell them that their village is
surrounded. After all, Louis and I emerged from the trees. They will
have no idea if anyone still remains there."
Shaka's eyes flared and he turned again to Pala.
"Who are you to decide when the rain is called?" he said
contemptuously. "You, Pala, are a fool, and trifle with Kings and Gods!
If it is rain you want, then it shall rain, but I am not a clown here
to amuse you. You asked for rain, and you will receive rain... but I
will not make it rain at a certain hour, in a certain direction or in
a certain colour!"
Shaka drew his scythe and held it at the ready.
"I have entertained your whims until now," he concluded, "but I am
your King, and you are a little man. Either I call the rain now, or
you and I will undergo a contest of battle, either armed or unarmed, I
fear you neither way!"
Pala appraised Shaka again. "You speak like a King. Call the rain now,
and when the water touches my lips, I will offer you fealty and beg
you to remember that a headman must see to his people before all
else."
Turning back to Mandragola and Louis, Shaka smiled slightly. "He
agrees. Watch my back."
Shaka began a chant and danced about the fire, tracing mystical signs
in the air with his hands. After nearly an hour of tireless dancing,
he stopped and stood stock-still, his eyes closed.
The rain fell to the ground; the Zulu to their knees. Pala placed his
spear's point against his chest and offered the haft to Shaka.
* * * *
Benjamin spoke hesitatingly to Charles. "My sincere Apologies for
acting as I did. Though I was not one of those who elected you into
Leadership, I do not contest that Leadership. I acted in defiance of
that Authority without sufficient Cause, and am prepared to accept the
Consequences."
Ehrich mumbled apologetically. "Well, just before I hit the water, I
started to think we should have some planning first. Oh well."
"Now is not the time to discuss it, Benjamin Franklin," Charles
responded. "Another time we shall talk more about this. All of us
shall."
Benjamin stepped out of sight to wring out his clothes before
returning to his usual position on deck.
"Shaw," Charles suggested, "we should sail on, before the frightened
and stunned villagers come swimming after us."
The newcomer looked over his rescuers through heavy-lidded eyes, then
turned to look to see where his captors fled. Grimacing, he spoke in a
slow, deep voice with a thick, working class British accent. "Bloody
'ell. Those guys were arseholes."
He looks from person to person. "What the 'ell have I gotten meself
into now?" he asked out loud. He eyed the group warily, and brushed
himself off, shaking the water out of his short hair. He nodded at the
men and leered at Josephine. "Roit. Not so bad, maybe." Catching his
breath, he continued, "Roit then. Name's Sly. Who're you bloody
bastards?"
Charles, a short but powerful-looking man began. "Sly, as you call
yourself, I am Charles of Aachen. These are my friends and
companions. By the rules of battle and war, your life belongs to us
now - If we were home."
He paused. "We are in a strange land with strange rules. You are
welcome to stay with us, if you join us in spirit and deed. We are
exploring the areas around this part of the river and making our way
northward. If you stay, you must help with defense, and work - and
participate in our group. If you cannot, or will not - you must
leave, in safety, when next we land."
Sly looked Charles over, his eyes slightly glazed. After a moment's
silence and another glance at Josephine, he replied. "Lemme get this
stroit. You get in fights, I help out. You do other stuff, I help
out."
Charles nodded.
"Roit then," Sly concluded. "I'll hang out a bit."
A pale man introduced himself as Sigmund Freud. He was followed by
Ehrich, who continued, "So tell us of yourself, and how you came to be
in captivity to those people?"
"Dunno," Sly said. "Bloody bastards couldn't take a joke I guess. No
sense of 'umor." He smiled a sneering smile.
The short woman with dark hair and pale skin, a considerable contrast
to the tall dark-skinned figure of Josephine, came forward next. "I
am Jeanne d'Arc," she said. "We bid we you welcome, in the name of
God."
Sly smiled his twisted smile and half-nodded in response.
Jeanne's private thoughts raced with questions as she looked over the
newcomer. Would he be, like the others, an envoy of the Dark or a
follower of the Light? His body, unmarked like all those reborn on the
River, offered no obvious signs, but his twisted visage and the
crudity of his language, evident even in translation, did not bode
well, she thought. She cast surreptitious glances at those in their
company that swam, but they did not seem to be pained by God's name.
Jeanne agreed that they should move on to the next grailstone before
putting in to shore again. She counted the remaining arrows and gave
half to Shaw, motioning for him to keep the other bow. "Use them
wisely; this is all we have. I will make more while we wait for our
land-roving companions."
Shaw introduced himself to Sly as Tom Shaw, from the early 20th
century, and thanked Jeanne for the bow. "Maybe at our next stop we
could collect or trade for the raw materials to make more arrows and
bows." He yawned.
"I shall take my turn steering this craft," Charles told Shaw.. "Rest
now, I shall wake you when we have traveled some distance, or when the
need arises. Who shall stay awake and speak with me?" Jeanne agreed,
but apart from a few quiet lessons in French, the two spent most of
their time with their own thoughts.
Though displeased with the group's lack of discipline, Charles found
the situation agreeable. The quality of the group and the intelligence
of its members reminded him of his court at Aachen. Without Shaka
around, and with some of the less moody or warlike people, Charles
felt he would be quite content to sail on this river for a long time,
sharing stories of past, learning new languages and knowledge, and
stopping and learning of new groups and new civilizations.
Shaw went below deck to sleep and Ehrich and Josephine began a quiet
chat at the stern of the boat.
Shaw slept restlessly, hoping to have a "special" dream like the one
the dreamgum had brought. After tossing about in vain for a time, he
considered asking Freud to hypnotize him. Perhaps he could learn to
interpret or control these dreams. He could not quite remember the
vividness of his prior visions, and longed for them. Almost without
thinking about it, he found a cube of dreamgum and began chewing.
He was immediately favored with same heaviness he remembered and again
saw the scene of the sacrifice. He heard voices arguing again, but
this time the woman in the lion shirt smiled at him and the bow in his
hand glowed with a pearly luminescence. The face faded and he saw a
ring of twelve stones, which fell upon him, smothering him as if they
were alive. He fought with them and finally ground them into
dust. Standing atop the dust of the conquered stones, he felt his body
infused with power and drifted into dreamless sleep until he was
awakened.
"Well," Ehrich murmured to Josephine, "I was paid quite a bit of
attention, and I thought myself quite worthy of it at the time. After
showing up on the river, I started to realize that my ephemeral
accomplishments mean little in the long run. I was just one out of
thousands of burlesque entertainers, although one that became more
famous than most. Yes, I was famous, that should come as no surprise
that on this vessel of luminaries. But that meant little when I awoke
on the riverbank, I was just another face, no more superior than the
next naked and nameless person.
"But I was soon recognized, being surrounded by others of my same era
and country, which led some to mock and challenge me. 'Let's see if
Houdini can escape from the river' they would shout. Luckily, when
things became more orderly and civilized, such taunts lessened. Yet
always there were those wishing to see me perform miracles, which
never seemed to quite match their expectations whenever I relented.
Somehow it seemed, there should be more to death than playing a jester
on the banks of the Styx. Most of the time however, I was lucky to be
just plain Ehrich Weiss from Wisconsin, building huts with the rest of
the damned.
"And somewhere out there on this river, I have a wife, a mother, and a
brother; so it's good to be moving. It has more purpose and destiny
to it."
Listening to Ehrich, Josephine offered a sympathetic half-smile and
nodded. Placing a comforting hand on his forearm, she replied, "Oh,
yes. I _am_ sure you must want a holiday from your fame. Rest
assured, I have only told Shaw of you identity, as far as I know it."
She patted his arm and nodded.
Ehrich laughed. "Not to worry, you and Shaw are the only ones I think
who would even know of me."
The group arrived abreast of the next grailstone to the north about an
hour before the morning firing. On the bank, a smiling group of a
dozen men and women waved at the boat, and motioned for them to come
ashore.
* * * *
Louis shook his head, unbelieving, a slight laugh escaping his lips.
"Incredible! Well, Mandragola, it looks like we have a new ally
group."
Mandragola nodded absently, his watchful eyes moving from Shaka to the
Zulu and back.
Shaka hung his head for a moment, savoring the rain, then looked up
and smiled, first at Louis and Mandragola, then Pala, when his smile
faded. "And so now you see the truth," he intoned. "I have been sent
to you to lead you to the place of the Lion God's choosing. You
behaved correctly as leader of this band, but your insolence will be
remembered. For 5 days and nights, you shall be my manservant. After
that, you will again be called headman and one of my counselors."
Pala nodded his head abjectly.
Raising his hands above his head, Shaka gave a Zulu war whoop and
spoke to the Zulu in a loud voice.
"My people!" he proclaimed. "My heart is filled with joy to be among
you. Soon, we shall take our place as the rulers of this world, but
first -- we will celebrate the return of your King!"
He turned to his companions and continued in English. "It is all
better now, we are safe. And even better, we are among stout, sturdy
people. Nothing will stand in our way now. Mandragola, fetch Mishima
from his hiding place. I miss his counsel."
As Louis moved toward the bushes, Shaka turned back to the crowd and
his voice rang out again. "My people! Tonight let us begin with a
fire and a telling of life tales. None of you know me as you should,
and I don't know my people as a leader must! After the tales we shall
feast from our grails, and then dance through the day! The single men
are released from their chastity this night, and may take pleasure
with any single woman who will have them! This is a night we shall
long remember!"
Louis called back in alarm. "Mishima's gone!"
* * * *
Louis scrambled into the brush, shouting in French. "No! Not Mishima
too!" Running at full speed, he searched frantically for any signs of
the man's whereabouts. He returned to the others dejected, his search
fruitless - no tracks, no trace.
Louis pounded his fists against a nearby tree. "Damn this infernal place!"
Mandragola turned to Shaka in surprise. "What does he mean, 'too?'
Has this kind of disappearance occurred before?"
Secretly, he suspected that the Zulu may have played a part in
Mishima's fate, but he said nothing, watching them carefully.
Shaka too appeared shocked, and turned to speak to the other Zulu.
"I had a companion with me," he said, "that remained in the reeds when
I appeared before you. His name is Mishima, and he was a small man
with yellow skin. He was a friend of your King, and his return shall
be rewarded."
When the Zulu shook their heads and shrugged in dismay, Shaka directed
Pala to begin a larger search. Some of the Zulu frowned and murmured,
and seemed to be almost avoiding Shaka, though they followed Pala to
begin combing the terrain.
Shaka answered Mandragola next. "This is not the first of the
disappearances among those that Louis and I have traveled with. Many
of our companions have disappeared without a trace. Until now I had
thought it was grail slavers, but now I am unsure. We shall find
Mishima though.
"We must signal Charles and the river party to tell them of our good
fortune in finding this tribe. In the morning, Louis, you shall take
Mandragola and two warriors to the river and make the appropriate
signal. Charles and the others will surely agree that the best way is
on land now that we can travel as a force to be reckoned with!"
When dawn came, bright and clear, the tribe ate from their
grails. Louis, Mandragola, and the two warriors lit a fire and began
the smoke signal to the others.
* * * *
Josephine looked askance at Shaw, a small furrow between her brow.
Her comment was a little wry as is the half-smile on her lips, "If I
died willingly to save that man, it is better than his unwilling
death."
Shaw returned Josephine's look with a similar half smile.
"Personally, I would prefer that no one died, except for them of
course."
She leaned towards him a little intently, her gaze meeting his, "I had
a choice."
He turned serious. "We always have a choice, all I ask is that next
time we try and choose some planing rather than everyone rushing off
on there own. We got lucky this time, what do you think would have
happened if they had guards posted?"
His face relaxed into a smile again. "Still, all in all I would say
that we all did quite well."
"I'm not sorry I acted the way I did." she said to Charles, in a
sincere voice and her best Latin. "I am sorry I didn't have the time
to inform you of my intentions first, however."
Giving Shaw one last look, she turned her attention to the newcomer,
looking over him with care, but offering no information about herself.
Flashing a serene smile around the boat, her voice filled with humor.
"Well, I guess I've had my swim for the day. What about these people?
Are they familiar to any of you?"
The others shook their heads. "Dunno these blokes," Sly put
in. "Don't think dey're the same tossers what near strung me up back
'dere. Can't see 'em much from here tho."
"There seems to be no danger here," Charles said to the others, "and
we should put in and eat. Let Shaw and Jeanne disembark last, so they
can cover us with their bows." Jeanne agreed immediately.
The others in the group readily acceded and soon they were all
ashore, and confronted the people of the region. Charles addressed
them, saying, "Greetings. I am Charles of Aachen. These people are
my friends and traveling mates. We are journeying to visit the area
around which we found ourselves. We wish to stop here, replenish our
food, and rest for a while. We will not disturb you, or bring harm to
you. May we stay?"
One of the locals, a dark-skinned man, grinned widely, almost
maniacally, and nodded. "Welcome to." he said, and motioned for the
group to put their grails in the grailstone.
Breakfast was pleasant, and included a hearty omelette, baked beans,
bread, fruit, and juice. Each lazarus also found a small hard mirror
in their grail. Sly in particular, ate hungrily, eyeing the food of
the others until Josephine offered him some of hers, which he quickly
devoured. He finished his meal by eagerly chewing the dreamgum in his
grail.
The locals ate but said little; many seemed to be in a dream-like
state or simply uninterested. There were twelve of them, six men and
six women, dressed in the typical fashion.
After the meal, Jeanne set out to make more arrows for the bows, using
short lengths of bamboo, by firing their tips and grinding them into
points. Taking up two smaller bamboo pieces, she lashed them together
with threads from her towel and formed a small cross, which she hung
around her neck from another thread.
Shaw spent a half hour in a quiet conversation with Freud.
"After hearing of the..what would you call them, special dreams that
some of the others have been having," Shaw began, "I have been
experimenting with dream gum, hoping to make my dreams more vivid, you
see?" Freud nodded. "Last night," Shaw continued, "was the third time
I tried this and each time I have had similar dreams. I wonder if you
could help me get a better grasp on them, maybe learn to control
them. I was also thinking that you could perhaps hypnotize me, so that
I could recall all the details, and so they could be shared with the
rest of the group."
Freud nodded. "Hypnotism might bring out more from your dreams and I
could try to divine their meanings. The gum is an unknown - it seems
to be dangerous to some, but to provoke visions in others. Perhaps you
are one of the lucky ones. I certainly hope so."
Shaw decided to discuss the matter with the others when the time
seemed right.
Benjamin wandered into the woods and collected his own bits of
wood. As he returned and took up his knife to begin carving them, he
looked across the river and called to the others. "It's a smoke
signal; Shaka's group is signaling us to join them!"
At the same time, Sly's eyes, which kept returning to the face of the
man who had first greeted them, widened. "F*ck me!" he exclaimed in a
voice only slightly slurring, "You're Jimi Hendrix!"
The black man grinned his grin again and nodded pacificly. "And who
the f*ck are you?"
* * * *
Jeanne kept to herself, avoiding Sly, Jimi, and the others. She spent
her time making arrows and then fashioned a quiver from a towel she
found beside the grailstone, by cleverly applying its magnetic tabs.
She made a second for Shaw, and offered it to him. "You showed some
skill with the bow," she said, but he merely smiled, accepting the
gift with silent grace.
Watching Sly chew his dream gum, Josephine attempted to suppress a
shudder, paling slightly. Carrying her grail over to Shaw, she
wordlessly held it out to him, open, and he took the offending dream
gum from it and placed it in his own.
Turning her gaze to the new set of people, she looked over them in a
practiced manner. She spoke with them easily, and found them largely
lethargic and easygoing. The one named Jimi eyed her and ran his
tongue across his lips. She smiled slightly, and then joined Benjamin
in his search for bits of wood.
"Ideally, the white pieces would be Wood and the black Stone, but I
cannot see how I shall shape Stone well enough for the Player to
swiftly and readily recognize his Position," Benjamin offered.
"Why not use grail items instead," Josephine replied, half-joking, "At
least there's a ready supply."
Benjamin looked at her in surprise. "Capital! The Black Pieces shall
be all Grail items. This Razor will make a King, if I can make it
stand on end."
He thought the dreamgum would make good pawns, but had noticed
Josephine's reaction to the stuff, and decided to keep this idea to
himself.
"Chess?" Shaw asked. "What a wonderful idea, would you like a hand
with those?"
Benjamin smiled in return.
By the grailstone, Sly looked Hendrix over. "Ewe woodent know who I am
man... I wuz just a lil' bloke when you died. Ewe can call me 'Sly'."
Jimi nodded fluidly. Sly turned back and points at his group,
speaking in a dreamlike haze. "I'm hanging out with these stiffs for
now. Anyone else here? Morrison? Buddy Holly? Hey, man, you got a
band going here? I play bass."
Jimi grinned. "I dig, man. Got me 'n' C.B. 'n' a fella name Merle
here. We got plans an' plans for ban's and ban's, 'round here, but no
axes, and no juice. An' no skins. Jes' like back home, fifty
axeslingers, no skinbeaters."
The smoke signal surprised the group. "Collect your weapons and
grails, and make for the boat," Charles called out to the others. "We
go now to answer the call of Shaka, and help him with whatever he
needs."
Jeanne quickly aided Shaw in untying the boat, as Benjamin hurriedly
packed up his newly-collected bits of wood and began to help the
others break camp. When he finished, he gave a clear loud whistle to
acknowledge the signal before boarding the boat.
Charles turned to Sly. "Sly, you are welcome to stay here, you seem
to have found friends from your previous life. We are leaving now to
help a friend and are probably headed towards a fight. Make your
decision now, the boat leaves soon." He bowed briefly to Jimi. "Our
thanks to you, for your hospitality -- It will not be forgotten.
Perhaps we will be back soon, and can talk and learn more of each
other. We must take our leave, to honor a promise to our other
friends. Please know that it was nothing other than this promise that
drove us from your camp so quickly. Thank you, once more."
Sly nodded and looked torn. Eventually, he heeded Charles's call.
Once in the boat, Charles helped Shaw maneuver the craft as quickly as
possible, towards the location of the smoke signal. "Make ready your
weapons, friends, we may have need of them." He said grimly.
On deck, Ehrich showed Benjamin and Shaw the mirror from the grail.
"These could be useful signaling devices. Quicker to use than smoke
signals, and less likely to be noticed by others. In my time, there
was a code people used called Morse, but I never learned it well. I
also know that ships used similar codes with lights. Shaw, you are
well traveled, do you know any of these codes, we could learn them,
or at least the basics. If not, I'm sure Ben could invent something,
and I've invented signaling codes before myself."
Shaw nodded. "Yes, I am familiar with Morse code, actually, its quite
simple, I could teach it to the rest of us by the time we reach
Shaka's group." He glanced at Sly. "Well, maybe most of us..."
Benjamin chuckled and began working on carving bits of wood
again. Shaw left the tiller in Charles's hands and helped for a time.
"I expect this to take much Time to do well," Benjamin said
gratefully, "or even poorly, but Time is currently one of our most
plentiful Resources."
With a half hour of sailing to go, Josephine motioned for Shaw to join
her below decks. Sly watched the two descend with a wry look.
Sitting down in the boat's little cabin, Josephine spoke in a clear,
calm voice.
"Shaw." She hesitated slightly. "What do you think of me?" She turned
to look in his eyes and added, "As a person?"
Before he could respond, she continued. "We've spent a lot of time
together, as friends. You've taught me a lot, but you've never..."
She shrugged her shoulders, "made any sort of move to take it
further than that."
Shaw looked slightly uncomfortable. "I..ah.."
With a slight frown she looked at him, "Is there a reason or do you
just not see me in that manner? I'll be frank, in my years on earth,
I'd never gone for long without some sort of companion, so this is
something new for me and I don't know if I'm going about it
correctly."
She watched Shaw's face, especially his eyes, intently, finally
allowing him to speak. He glanced off to the side for a second.
"I suppose I should have seen this coming," he stammered. "But I guess
I was avoiding the subject. Nothing personal, though." he added
quickly.
"Its just that, ah...Well, you see...You know that on earth I was
known as the great Lawrence of Arabia." He said the last bit with a
half-smile which Josephine returned. "There were rumors of
certain.. tastes that I supposedly had, well, as with much of what was
said about me this was not true."
"To be completely honest," he continued, "Back on earth I had neither
the desire or the time for any sort of relationship further than
friendship with anyone...I don't know if you remember that very first
night on the river, something of a night madness. It was the dream gum
I think...ah, I suppose you would rather I not go into much detail
with that...suffice to say that, for what ever reasons, either the gum
or something to do with being resurrected I...well, ever since then I
have had what one could call normal..ahh..."
He paused for a moment. "Oh hell, what I'm getting to is...I'm
willing if you are." With a laugh, he added. "Hm, that wasn't very
romantic sounding I guess."
Josephine grinned. "I've heard worse. But I think we'll have to
continue this later," she added as Charles called from above.
Josephine and Shaw emerged from the ship's cabin hand in hand as they
neared the east bank of the River where the smoke was rising.
* * * *
Shaka watched his companions and their escort move to the river, then
turned back to the Zulus and called Pala to his side.
"Pala," he instructed, "we must have the tribe ready to move by
tomorrow. We will travel armed, and stealthily. We go to the site of
the Riverworld God's steel. I want every man armed with spear and
thrusting shield by morning. Today we will drill in mobile combat."
"It shall be as you command, Shaka," Pala replied.
Shaka thought for a moment before adding, "My companions have gone to
the river to find the rest of the party that is supposed to travel to
the steel with me. They are all white skinned except for one woman
who has a white man's mind. They may try to stand in our way. We
shall not let them, shall we Pala?"
In answer, Pala grinned his hard grin, and began arming the men, whose
apparent initial reluctance was broken down by Pala's firm words.
When Louis and Mandragola returned to the camp, the Zulu were armed
with spears and heavy wooden shields and were sparring with one
another.
Louis turned to Mandragola and raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you
think of our fine world?" He forced irony into his voice. "All kinds
of 'mysterious' happenings, no? Aren't you just anxiously awaiting
the next development?" He rolled his eyes in disgust. "I would but
quit this place, if I knew how. Oh! where are they? I wish to get
this over with!" He looked up and down the river for signs from
Shaw's group.
At first, Mandragola did not answer, but instead idly watched the
smoke winging its way into the sky, unsure of his
response. Eventually, he spoke. "I understand your grief - you have
lost a good friend and that is always difficult. But we must try to
put the past behind us and look to the future. Only then will we be
able to complete the task entrusted to us - though by whom I do not
know."
He pondered for another long period. "I notice that people seem to be
immortal in this land. I have yet to decide whether this is a blessing
or a curse."
"It's a curse...most assuredly a curse," Louis replied with
finality. He regarded the other man for a moment and then continued,
"Others have lived before here. I have not. I remember my death in
France, but no other. Some of our party have mysteriously vanished,
with no sign to indicate by what design it occurred. I am a man of
reason, and this greatly disturbs me. I would but get my hands around
the necks of those who perpetrate this madness...if it could only be
so."
A distant whistle-pattern floated across the River. "That's the signal
for a meeting," Louis said with more excitement in his voice. "They're
coming." His prediction was not proved wrong.
As the boat approached the Riverbank, Louis and Mandragola shouted to
the others. Soon they had tied the boat to the grailstone and found
themselves in a village where Shaka stood among a score or more armed
men whose resemblance to the Zulu went beyond skin color.
Shaka grinned.
* * * *
Jeanne kept her bow at the ready, trained on the group of Zulu until
she decided their was no danger and trained nothing more than venomous
glances at them. Her hands clutched at the makeshift cross about her
neck.
Shaw and Josephine emerged from the boat, holding hands. Josephine
cast a curious glance at Shaka's jubilance, then allowed her gaze to
move around, a smile forming then widening as she saw the group of
warriors. She stepped up to Shaka and nodded her head slightly,
speaking in a voice that carried. "Your people, I assume?
Congratulations." With that, she leaned forward and placed a quick
kiss on his cheek before stepping back, allowing the others to find
out what's going on.
Mandragola's eyes lit on Benjamin, whose hands were busy carving
pieces of bamboo. Recognizing the familiar shapes, he grinned.
"Chess! What a fantastic idea! I was quite a good player myself back
in Italy. I hope we can have a game at some point."
Shaw, also whittling, chuckled, and smiled back. "I wonder if we
could carve these to look like us," he said, obviously quite pleased
with himself.
Once the boat was tied, Charles disembarked and came ashore, facing
Shaka and his people calmly. With Benjamin's help, he asked, "You
Signal need of our help, Shaka, How can we help you, or has the need
passed?"
Shaka, scythe in hand, nodded and replied. "There is no emergency,
only that it is time we rejoined. As you can see, the Gods have
wanted us to travel by land, because here we found this band of
faithful warriors. Now we will be able to travel to the place of the
scythe metal without fear of attack. We shall be protected by the
greatest warriors on earth."
He turned to his men, smiling and raising his hands above his head as
he spoke loudly in Zulu.
"These people will be joining us," he intoned. "They are strange, but
they are wise in strange things, though helpless in others. None
speak their language but me, so you may speak freely. If you have any
disputes with them, see your King."
Josephine, in her position near the edge of the River, half-listened
to the voices before opening her grail and sorting through the items
therein, setting aside anything frivolous or useless. Shaw moved to
stand by her.
"Strange, isn't it?" she mused, "One day we're running for out lives
and the next we find a safe haven in perhaps the least likely place,
yet... Through everything the river flows in the same place, the same
direction, day after day after day... I have to wonder, does the river
flow in this direction for a reason?"
She shrugged and offers a smile. "Certainly something to think about."
Shaw thought for a moment, a slightly disturbed look crossing his
face. He shook his head, muttering. "I wonder if there is a reason.."
Then he shook his head again. "As if we didn't have enough to think
about as it is."
Shaw felt tired now that they had left the River, and displaced. He
had the distinct feeling that he should chew dreamgum; a prickling at
the back of his head seemed to convey the idea that he had nearly
achieved an important insight into the Mystery, as he had come to
think of it.
Shaka turned back to Charles. "Now, it is time. Leave this boat behind.
There is much to be done before we continue our journey."
Ehrich points towards the boat. "The boat has proven too useful to
merely abandon. We should stow it, and hide it, so that it is ready
should we come this way again."
Louis spoke up. "Mishima was taken from us--plucked from the very air
around me. I hope we can travel as a band to the north and locate our
abducted companions, if they are still alive."
"When did this happen?" Shaw inquired grimly. "Did anyone see
anything? Where was this, can someone take me there?" The River-goers
joined Shaw on a cursory inspection of the stand of brush from which
Mishima vanished, finding only evidence of the past searches for the
man.
Shaw turned to Shaka, frowning. "No emergency!? Have there been so
many disappearances that one more is not an emergency?" Murmurs arose
from the warriors, and Shaw lowered his voice slightly. "Still, thank
you for letting us know of the loss of our companion. We should never
let out guard down, and we should never, never be alone. We must see
to it that this is the last time that this occurs."
"As the original agreement was to meet again in 5 days," he continued,
"and 5 days have not yet gone by I say we go by the original agreement
and meet at the designated spot at the agreed upon time."
"Surely you must see what this means?" Jeanne hissed. "You are a man
of God, this I know. Can you not see how you have imperiled your
eternal soul? Consorting with these witches and warlocks, and those
heathens there. We must leave these godless people before our
damnation is sealed."
Charles' reply was quiet but firm. "Jeanne it is my intent that we
stay here no longer. Shaka has found his people, and we must continue
our quest. Until I know more about them, I won't call them damned."
He turned back to speak aloud.
Charles tightened his jaw, his face an iron mask. "Shaka, if you have
not found the source of the Scythe metal, then the time for rejoining
is not at hand. We agreed to meet after 5 days. Will your warriors
not be around in 5 days time? We have responded to your signal and
found it lacking. I am glad that you have your warriors and your
people now. Those who travel with Shaw on his boat... Those that
travel with me shall return to the boat and continue our search for
the maker of the scythe, and perhaps learn our meaning of existence
here. We will meet at the appointed time."
Charles turned to leave, then paused, looking back at Louis and
Mandragola. "Any who wish to join us on the river are welcome to
come."
Motioning for Freud to join her, Jeanne returned to the boat. The pale
man followed her and they descended below the decks and spoke privately.
The gangly man who accompanied the River party and who they introduced
to the others as "Sly" had been watching the ongoing discussion
quietly, and finally spoke in his gutter English, pointing to Shaka.
"I'm gonna hang with this guy a while."
A calm of sorts had fallen over Jeanne, though her eyes were still
overly bright, as if fevered or burning with religious fervor.
"Excuse me, sir," she began, "but I would speak with you. You have
shown yourself a man of keen insight, and some compassion, and I wish
no harm upon you. We must away from these devils, before they imperil
our very souls. It may be too late already, I should have spoken
sooner, but I was blinded by my own pride. I thought I could save
them, but the truth has been shown me now. We are surrounded by
Satan's minions, and if you value your eternal soul you will heed my
words and flee their influence."
Freud frowned at Jeanne. "What makes you believe these men are Satan's
minions?"
* * * *
Louis glared at Shaw. "Watch your tongue, in either reprimand or
casual comment, when you have not seen the events yourself. I did not
let this happen to Mishima.
"Let me assure you that no precautions could have prevented friend
Mishima from being taken by these black hearted schemers! He was no
more than a few paces from me, when he _vanished._ Do you understand
me? He was plucked from the earth by..."
He trailed off momentarily, casting a brief glance at Shaka and then
continuing with renewed fervor. "Maybe it was his Lion God, I don't
know. But if it was one man or a score, they and I would most
assuredly be dead had they abducted Mishima openly. I would gladly
relinquish my life, whether it be a temporary inconvenience or a final
rest, to take some of these insidious cowards to their end."
"Were I to reprimand you sir," Shaw replied in an evenly civil tone,
"there would be no doubt in your mind of my intentions. Perhaps you do
not recall, but Mishima's loss takes the total number of disappearances
to six. Each when alone, so when I say to be careful it is for the
good of all, not an attack against any one person.
"Perhaps if you were to spend less time arguing with your comrades and
more time trying to discover the meaning to all this you would feel
less guilt over something of which you had no control." With that,
Shaw turned and stood beside Charles again.
Shaka sets his jaw tightly and spoke; Benjamin translated his words to
the others. "I have called you ashore because it is pointless to
continue on these separate paths now that we have my people. Your
bickering about whether this is an emergency or not is pointless,
things have changed and it is time we were rejoined."
"This thing," he pointed to the boat, "is too weak and vulnerable, too
easily cornered and captured, no matter the skill of its pilot. With
my people, we will be traveling in force, with superior scouts, and
faster than any superior force could coordinate to confront us. This
is the only smart way."
"Yes, you have a fine army," Ehrich responded. "However, they travel
only at walking speeds, and only on one side of the river. The boat
will be useful for scouting ahead, as it can travel quickly, and it
can scout both sides of the river. It will prove to be a military
advantage. We need only a few people on the boat, so it will not
hinder your warriors if it is used or not. In any event, it is too
strategic to abandon."
He narrowed his eyes sternly. "If you choose to go on that vessel,
then so be it, but I will not change my plans anymore for anyone who
does. If you leave on the boat, our time of traveling together is
over unless we meet through chance. Expect no aid from me or my
fellows if you are beset."
With that, Shaka turned, walked several paces away and waited.
Charles approached, but remained a respectful distance from Shaka.
"Shaka," he asked, "where are you going, and how do you know that the
forge of the scythe is where you are heading? Have your warriors seen
this place? Have you had a vision? Do you know this path or this
place. Give me some reason to follow you, as I have given you reason
in the past to follow me."
Shaka replied simply, "I will follow my vision north and I will not
leave my people."
Charles shook his head and motioned the others back to the boat. "We
will meet you at the appointed time and place." Louis and Mandragola
remained with Shaka. Josephine, glancing between the two groups,
pulled Shaw aside and spoke to him in hushed tones.
"Do you _want_ me on the boat with you?" she asked. "I would like to
be on the boat, but if you aren't comfortable with that, I'll stay."
"Yes," Shaw replied. "I do want you on the boat with me. I need
someone I can trust with me, and not only because of this experiment."
After the whispered conversation, Josephine joined the others on the
boat.
Sly, his arms folded, watched the exchanges with glazed
eyes which betrayed little understanding. Shrugging, he walked to
stand beside Louis. Mandragola nodded in farewell, but on the whole
the parting was quiet and chilly. The boat set out into the River
again.
Aboard, Jeanne looked curiously at Benjamin's work.
"I plan to use Items from our Grails to make the black Pieces,"
Benjamin smiled, "and carve the white Pieces. Necessarily the Pieces
will be somewhat crude in Form and Making, but I am hopeful we will be
able to improve on them, so that the Game may not be altered to the
Detriment of whichever Player is most uncomfortable with the unusual
Shapes. But we must devise a Means to make the Grail Items stand and
be recognizable. For instance, I will attempt to carve a Base for
this Razor, into which I can insert the nether end so that this
crossward Bar is at the top, but I fear the Base will not be secure
enough. And we must also contrive a Board somehow..."
He trailed off in thought until he saw Josephine, and then addressed
her. "I overheard your musings about the River flowing in one
direction. Perhaps it flows a full Circle, ma'am, and joins back up
with itself, the Serpent swallowing its own Tail? If so, a suitable
Symbol for our Existence in this Place."
Josephine smiled. Benjamin's next words were for Charles. "Charles, I
do not disagree with your Judgement and will follow it, but have you
considered that the Vision that prompts us to travel north to find the
Scythe Makers, came from Shaka? Mayhap his Insistence on traveling
by Land is part of that same Vision? If we have trusted it thus far,
to abandon the Homes we built..."
Shaw was quick to reply. "If the powers that be wish us to travel by
land I would just as soon spite them and go by water."
After a moment of thought, Charles chimed in. "It is true, Shaka did
visit the lair of the beings holding us here. Perhaps he does have a
better idea how to return to them. But perhaps still, he is now one
of them. Perhaps this is not the Shaka we knew a few days ago."
Another thought struck him. "It sounded like you and Louis were having
words."
Shaw looked somewhat surprised. "Oh, that? We were discussing
Mishima's disappearance, there was a small misunderstanding, Louis
thought I was accusing him of being lax. I explained to him that I was
only trying be sure that everyone stayed on there guard. We have lost
too many people as it is."
He looked thoughtful for a second. "You know, this makes me think. We
should try and teach everyone a common language. As most of us here
speak English that would be the easiest I think. And Morse code, as
well. But first, if you and Benjamin could take the helm, I would like
to rest before the evening." He followed Freud below, and motioned for
Josephine to join them.
Before she arrived, he nodded to Freud. "I am going to try again
now," Shaw said in a reverent tone. "I feel as if I am getting close
to unlocking some secret of this place. If it is all right with you I
will find you as soon as I wake after one of these dreams and perhaps
with your help we can make some sense of it all."
"Josephine..." Shaw began, awkwardly.
"I will be trying something which you may find...disturbing. It
seems that dreams are more than just dreams in this place. With
Dr. Freud's help I'm attempting to make some sense of them, and I
believe that I am getting close to unlocking some secret. To do this I
have been experimenting with dream gum."
Josephine's eyes widened in shock, her facial expression one of horror
before being replaced with a noncommittal one as she just stared at
Shaw. "I don't know what to say. Part of me wants to shake some
sense into you, another wants to turn my back and walk away. I know
that neither response is the right one, however, so I guess I will
just remind you of the horrors that can come of this and allow you to
make your own decisions."
"I understand that there is a great risk involved," Shaw replied. "I
do not like the thought of my mind being influenced by an unknown
substance, that is why I have asked Dr. Freud to help. I hope to have
your help as well, especially if it looks like I need someone to shake
some sense into me as you said. It's just that without some risk we
will never understand what is going on here. I will be needed tonight,
so I thought I might try now."
Josephine nodded and clenched her teeth as she watched Shaw chew the
small grey cube she had come to loath. His eyes defocused almost
immediately and he sank to the bed in a pleasant-looking trance. Freud
shot Josephine a look and shrugged.
Shaw felt a comfortable lassitude settle upon him, and then he found
himself seated on a horse and looking across an enormous field painted
with blank and white squares like a chess board. Arrayed on the field
were all the lazari; even the mysterious vanished members of the
company were there. And there were other he did not recognize. The
field shifted strangely, so that the farther he looked, the less he
could see exactly where the others were standing, who the others were,
or what color their square were, though he could see that his was
black. Then a chill came over him as he saw an enormous hand reach
down and move a man-sized pawn two squares forward.
It was an hour later that Shaw awoke, shivering.
Suddenly his suggestion that Benjamin carve the pieces into the
company's likenesses seemed far more serious. And he felt sure that it
was very very important to tell the others of his dream.
* * * *
* * * *
Shaw awakened with a start, sat up, closed his eyes, and shivered. He
took a deep breath before talking. "It gets more real every time...I
must tell the rest about this. Dr. Freud, would you be willing to
hypnotize me to help bring out anything I may have missed when I tell
the rest?"
Freud nodded, and helped the man up. Shaw smiled at Josephine. "Thank
you for staying. I have a feeling that this will only get worse before
it gets better. Hopefuly you won't need to shake some sense into me,
but I'm glad to know that I can count on you to do so if need be."
Freud, Shaw, and Josephine emerged from the cabin to the watchful
glance of Benjamin, standing next to Jeanne who was silently minding
the helm.
"Well, learning Morse code seems useless now," Ehrich observed. He was
absentmindedly spinning his mirror on the back of his fingers, causing
it to disappear and reappear again. "As there's no one on shore to
communicate with. Do you think this Shaka will will relent, or has he
abandoned us for good? Or did we abandon him? Somehow, I thought
people were supposed to act differently in the afterlife. What is our
destination now?"
Jeanne followed the man's motions with the mirror with deep
reservations. The man did not even hide his witchery!
Josephine murmured almost idly, "I do hope that wasn't the last we see
of them."
Charles said little, but remained on deck brooding. When he finally
stood up, he spoke as if just awakened.
"I have erred," he began. "The metal scythe was given to Shaka as a
medal of honor. I should have maintained control of him better. He
is now, not in my control. The error was mine.
"Shaw -- let us sail north as quickly as possible -- we will skip the
first grail, and stop at the second, only for food. After that we will
try to see where Shaka is heading.
"It will serve two purposes. If he is now an enemy, perhaps we can take
the metal forge first and thwart his plan. If not, it will help me to
regain control of this volatile man.
"I'm not sure that I wish control. He has his warriors, and I ..."
Charles paced up and down the deck, his eyes pointed downward. "Let
us all sit and talk - save the steerman, who shall remain at the helm
and listen and comment.
"We have to look at our lot, and the facts. Those that stay near
Shaka disappear. Since our group split into two. One more has been
taken from their group, but none from ours. That means that either
Shaka is responsible, or that his direction provides the most threat
to the Kings of this land.
"We must decide as a group, whether we must seek out these leaders, or
do we take our departure, and seek to build a new civilization here,
based on the good concepts that we bring from our previous lives.
Perhaps living better here, will lead us to Heaven, eventually.
"I request comments from you all regarding this. And I tentatively
suggest that we cautiously shaddow Shaka, or even attempt to arrive
before him, at the next few grails."
"Shaka could be neither enemy nor ally," Ehrich disagreed. "The world
does not always have to be divided into two groups. But trying to
take control of him would most assuredly force him to become an
adversary. He is like this river, and will overrun what is in his
way. But a river can be navigated and diverted if done with care, and
then it becomes a friend.
"I do agree that we should meet him again. I would wish to meet the
leaders of this world, following Shaka's dream is the best clue we
have."
Benjamin, waiting his turn, had been busy examining the boat's
manufacture. He had reassured himself that while it was more seaworthy
than some other he had seen on the River, its construction would not
require metal tools.
"I do not know if we should seek the Creatures of Shaka's Vision,"
Benjamin said. "But I do believe that the Mystery of the Scythe must
be solved. Whether we then continue to seek the Vision, or return to
the Homes we built, we will need the Forge. We rely on Industry and
it will take Years to build it ourselves from nothing.
Josephine simply added, "I will find my friends who have disappeared."
Shaw spoke next. "I for one will continue to seek out who or whatever
is behind this. All the building of civilizations will be for naught
if we can be toyed with and manipulated at their will. I personally
have no ill will towards Shaka and wish him well in his search. I just
feel that travel by water is more efficient than by land, and who
knows, maybe it will cause our unseen foe to divide his attention
between us. Still, we shall see in the end who is right, maybe both,
maybe neither.
"But first, I need to talk to you all about dreams," he began. "I
assume that you all have noticed that a number of people in this group
have had a number of what you could call prophetic dreams. Hypatia,
Josephine, Shaka, and now myself. Even Stalin claimed to have had one
before he suddenly died.
"To be honest, I never believed in prophecy, or ESP or anything like
that. But on the same hand I never believed that I would wake up on
the shore of a endless river after being in a fatal motorcycle
accident either, so I suppose that anything is possible.
"I still didn't put much faith into these dreams until Shaka's return
from the dead with a story abot a lion god and a surprising command of
English. I thought that, since Josephine's and possibly Hypatia's
dream or vision or what ever you want to call it was brought on by
dream gum, that the use of dream gum would be a useful way of trying
to bring on one of these dreams."
Josephine looked apprehensive, and rested her hand on Shaw's shoulder.
"So far I have had four visions," Shaw continued. "The first involved
a group of men and women watching from above and arguing about
something. One of the women, who was wearing a shirt with a huge lion
on it, by the way, seemed to notice me, stared into my eyes and put me
to sleep. The second one involved visions of men, women, firelight, a
lion's mane and a bicycle, of all things. The third time it involved
the same group of people arguing over something. The woman in the lion
shirt noticed me again, but this time only smiled. Then I saw a ring
of twelve stones that fell on me, makeing it hard to breath. I managed
to fight my way out from under them and felt full of power. The
fourth, and latest vision was also the most vivid. It involved a giant
chess board, with all of us, even the ones who have vanished lined up
as pieces. I was'nt able to see what anyone else was, but I was a
knight on a black square. I awoke after seeing a giant hand reach down
and move a pawn forward.
"Dr. Freud has agreed to help make sense of these dreams. I have asked
him to hypnotise me to try and remember more details."
Shaw smiled proudly. "It might be wise for all of us to be
hypnotized, in fact," he concluded.
Privately, Shaw wondered if the lack of memory of some of the
lazari could be revealed.
As the sun set and Jeanne kept the boat on a steady heading in the
center of the River, the others looked at Shaw in amazement.
* * * *
Mandragola, otherwise lost in thought, acknowledged Sly with a nod. He
snapped out of his trance when Louis spoke to Shaka. "Absolutely," he
agreed. "There is nothing to be gained in standing around cursing Shaw
for his narrow minded views." He turned to Shaka. "I suggest you ask
your people if they have their own weapons."
The Zulu were indeed well-equipped with spears and shields fashioned
by stretching towels across bamboo frames, and at a word from Shaka
readily armed Mandragola and Louis.
Shaka raised his grail and spoke aloud in Zulu and English. "My
people," he began. "Today we prepare for the greatest endeavour the
Zulu people have ever undergone. Once, long ago, I united the Bantu
tribes under the Zulu shield, and we conquered the world. Now, on
this new, strange world, we will do so again! But first, we must
travel to the place where this metal, precious here in this strange
land, is found.
"Pala will organize scouts, who will lead the way. We travel north!
To the home of the Lion God! After we have metal weapons, we shall
take all the land and all the grails there are!
"When the grails fire today, keep half your food as supplies. We
travel light, as we always do. If need be, we shall take grails as
we travel. The scouts will leave at dusk. The rest of us shall leave
at dawn. Until then, we shall prepare!"
Louis grinned. "Charles and Shaw annoy me--they are concerned only
with their own agenda. I wish to confront this 'Lion God'." He
turned to Sly. "My name is Louis Saint-Just. This is Shaka," Louis
said, pointing to each, "and this is Mandragola. We have just lost
one of our comrades, Mishima. . . . He will be missed."
Shaka scrutinized the newcomer. "And who are you?" he asked,
suspiciously. "I know not your name. Are you a spy sent by Charles?"
Sly began to laugh, slowly, almost slurred. "What's that mate? Me,
spy for that Charles bloke? On the same noit that John 'olmes buggers
the Queen, mate! E's got a pole up his arse a mile hoi!" He thumbed
his chest. "Name's Sid."
He laughed a while longer before continuing. "You don't need to worry
'bout me, mate. Just keep the gum comin', and don't get me bored!"
As night fell, the group gathered around the grail, eating lightly and
conserving half their food. Pala, with six warriors in tow, bowed to
Shaka and disappeared north into the forests of the Rivervalley.
Another warrior turned to Shaka and spoke in Zulu. Shaka translated
for the others. "He asks if you have stories of victories in battle
to tell."
* * * *
* * * *
Charles nodded affirmatively. "You are all right. Shaka is not the
Enemy. He is Shaka. We shall continue with all speed to the north,
to complete this quest for the leaders. We will join with him, and
give what aid we can in pursuit."
He turned to Shaw. "Shaw," he said, "your dreams speak volumes -- I
wish to know more about all this. Freud, I will let you hypnotize me
if you think you can learn more of why we are here. I think it will
help. While I do wish to learn of this game called 'Chess', I think
it was best done without me as one of the pieces."
Josephine gave Freud with a long look, assessing him. "I will go
first," she volunteered. She smiled a bit wryly and said in a soft
voice, "As long as nobody asks about a certain Prince of Monaco..."
She let her voice trail off and winked. Jeanne looked blankly back at
her.
Shaw laughed almost to himself. "The Prince of Monaco? I knew him in
passing. What a small world we live in."
Jeanne looked mildly puzzled, and asked, "What is 'hypnotized'? And
how can it help you make sense of dreams and visions? Does it help you
determine if such things are the work of the Fallen One or True
Sendings from the Lord?"
"It is a way of relaxing the mind and helping you remember things you
may have forgotten," Freud replied. "It is not dangerous or
unpleasant. In fact, I suggest that it might be beneficial if I
hypnotize everyone at once, both to save time and to more easily fit
together the puzzle pieces you have each encountered. I can quickly
wake everyone up if any danger presents itself."
Benjamin nodded silently.
Jeanne looked suspiciously at Freud. "Wake us up? It is a spell that
puts us to sleep and then lets us talk to each other while we
slumber?" She shook her head. "You may cast your spell on the
others. I will steer the boat." She concluded in a mutter, "I needed
no such witchery to understand my visions."
"All at once?" Josephine asked, surprised. "But then only those not
hypnotized may analyze the responses, no?"
"This should be interesting," Ehrich said. "I'm for it."
Shaw frowned. "I'll be hypnotized by myself, but not as part of a
group. You may hypnotize the others together, if they agree, but not
me."
"Perhaps it was not a good idea," Freud conceded. "I withdraw the
suggestion. I will wait below where it is quiet. Choose the order in
which you would like to be hypnotized and come below. If you require
another observer, he may come down as well, but no more than one. It
would be disruptive."
Shaka smiled and nodded to the people around him. "We will all tell
tales of our prowess. I will translate for the warriors, then we will
all dance in celebration of our victories."
When none of the others spoke up, Shaka began. "My mother was a
princess, of the Langeni clan. The Langeni were not Zulus, but were
of the tribe, the Bantu. Because my father was also Langeni, the
marriage was considered taboo, as royalty must marry outside their
clan. All my life, I was treated as a ... bastard child. My
childhood was not easy, but I was a strong warrior, and soon grew to
be a general under the leader Dingiswayo of the Mtetwa. When I was
fully grown and bloodied in battle, Dingiswayo sent me to lead a clan
called the Zulu, who were but a small band at the time, but with
strong warriors.
"When I assumed control, the Zulus fought as the other Bantu did, with
large skin shields and long, flimsy throwing spears. Most battles
between the clans were silly affairs, mostly of shouting and spear
throwing from a distance. I taught the men to use one of these."
Shaka cast about for a spear and suddenly noticed that the warriors
had not crafted the stronger spears of his reign, but the
older throwing spears.
Shaka raised his own spear. "This, is an assegai. It isn't for
throwing, but for thrusting. Thrusting right through a man's shield,
or past a sword, or armor. When I had taught the men to use the
assegai and trained them into workable units, I led them into war with
the Langeni."
Shaka stopped, then smiled. "The Langeni were crushed, though they
outnumbered us. Those who had caused my mother pain, or had
humiliated me now ran before us like frightened cows. I had their
leaders impaled and left to die in the sun. After that there were no
more Langeni, only the Zulu. The survivors were integrated into my
clan and served me. It was the beginning of the way that would become
my life. Crushing my enemies and uniting them under the Zulu name.
By the time I was murdered, we conquered all of the lands we knew."
The warriors gave a shout as Shaka reached the end of his tale. Sly
spoke next.
"Roit, I gotta story 'bout a fight," he began. Shaka strained to
translate the man's thickly accented words. "'appened in '76, in
London... 'at's where it started at least. Bloody arsehole by the
name Barry Lincoln, long'aird bastard... though 'e could play
guitar... 'e flipped some shit moi way at a gig in some shit'ole doiv,
forget the noim."
Sly chuckled throatily, scratched his crotch, and continued. "Oi wuz
in a good mood that noit, so alls I did was grab 'is chick and take
'er wit' me, make 'er moin, know what I mean, mates?" He looked
knowingly at the 'manlier' men in the group, and gave a big, long
wink. The Zulu murmured.
"Anyway, 'e wuz so drunk 'e didn't know what 'appened, but later on,
'e found out. Coupla' days later 'e came back wit' friends, and made a
buncha noise all threw da bloody gig. Anyway, me buddy Steve, another
arsehole, but 'e owed me, 'n' I, same toim, yanked plugs outta our
stringers and jumped down, swingin'"
Shaka had considerable difficultly with the last phrase. Sly explained
that he had played a heavy musical instrument attached to a sort of
rope. He made an exaggerated jumping motion, followed by a double-
handed swing, as if bringing a sledgehammer to bear on a log-splitter.
"Roit, jus' like that. 'fore dey knew wha'appened, we'd smashed two
uvver bloodly 'eads open, and were goin' ta town on d'others. By then,
though, the crowd had jumped in. We sucked 'dat noit, so as many of
'em were smashin' us as Barry... anyway.. lost a coupla teeth 'dat
noit, but smashed up a hellva lot more, mates. Guess 'dat bastard's
'ere somewhere, hope he's gettin' da sh*t pounded outa him 'ere too."
Sly grinned, obviously quite proud of himself, and looked on pompously
as others told their warrior stories.
"I'll go after Josephine," Ehrich volunteered. "I'd like to observe
too. I've dealt with mesmerists before, but only performers."
Shaw looked questioningly at Freud. "Why not do it in the open where
we can all hear?" he asked. "You were able to hypnotize Stalin in a
crowd after all, and we will not be fighting you as I'm sure he
did. The reason I brought this idea up in the first place was so we
could all hear this together."
Charles nodded. "I too, think it would be best done here - in view of
everyone. Take no offense Friend, but too much has happened around
here, when groups are divided. I say that we stay together. If you
can hypnotize us each or in groups of two or three at a time - Here on
the deck of this boat, then do so. Otherwise, we will have to ponder
our dreams with the waking mind."
Freud nodded, slowly. "When I hypnotized Stalin," he replied to Shaw,
"I wasn't on a boat. It would have been easier for me to work below,
but I can adapt. What shall the order be, then?"
"Perhaps we should begin with those who have not had any dreams yet?"
Charles suggested. "Or perhaps the reverse of that -- I leave that up
to the group to decide. I'll be happy to go first."
"So then," Freud said, "Charles, Josephine, Ehrich, and Shaw? Jeanne
seems opposed to being hypnotized. Very well. Before we begin, would
you like to decide upon a standard set of questions for me to ask each
person? You all know more about each other than I do, and Shaw in
particular may have an idea about what would be revealing to know."
* * * *
Louis smiled briefly, and his thoughts drifted from the accursed River
back to France.
"I was, in my short life, mainly a politician," he began.
"Robespierre's chief deputy. But I did wage personal battles and even
commanded a field of men. My greatest moment in combat was after that
witch, Corday, murdered Marat in his bath. She was captured by Agents
of the Committee, but Robespierre knew she had a sponsor and it was my
task to bring the vermin to Madame Guillotine.
"My agents and I trailed him through many false names and eventually
discovered him, fleeing through the Bois de Boulogne, a large forest,
outside the Champs-Elysees district. He surrendered, groveling upon
his knees. I threw my sword to him and demanded that he rise and die
like a man. An agent lent me his blade and we had at each other for
thirty minutes.
"What a battle! The man had courage after all! He drew a fine slice
across my arm, but it was as this moment that I struck! and ran him
through.
"Needless to say," he concluded, "Robespierre was angry with me, as he
wanted a public execution, but I never liked Marat and thought the man
deserved to die better."
Louis laughed whole-heartedly. "And needless to say, I died in a
public execution...but Madame Guillotine was quick, and I got to watch
Robespierre go first!"
Eyes turned to Mandragola, sitting on the edge of the group and
looking slightly uncomfortable. Eventually, he spoke. "I hate to
disappoint you all, but I always lived by the motto of, 'The pen is
mightier than the sword,' so I'm afraid I don't have any tales with
which to regale you."
He gazed off into the distance before suddenly remembering. "I did
once train and command a militia unit, though. A fine body of men
indeed." He trailed off into silence again.
* * * *
Benjamin, who had been quiet, piped in when Freud listed people to be
hypnotized. "And me, sir."
Freud looked embarrassed. "Of course, Herr Franklin. I apologize. Now,
what shall we ask ourselves?"
"Surely the only Questions to be asked are 'What Dreams have you had
here?' and 'What do you think they mean?', are they not?" Benjamin
replied, somewhat mollified. "Have I misunderstood the Purpose of
these Mesmerisms?"
Shaw nodded in agreement, and added "We should also try and find out
about the lack of memory that some of our group seems to have."
Jeanne was intrigued by the prospect of seeing the others hypnotized,
for all that she disapproved of it. She could not decide if her
feelings were fascination with the forbidden or simple human
curiosity, and she murmured soft admonitions to herself to remember
the fate of Lot's wife.
Jeanne added, "Because we all come from different societies, perhaps
some simple questions first, to establish the boundaries that person's
mind works within? My point being that things which seem out of the
ordinary to me might be commonplace to Josephine, and thus
overlooked. Or vice versa.
"There may be something in these differences that would explain
why dreams are given to some, and not to others. Or why some
remember and others do not, if the dreams are sent to all.
"Easy questions, something the others might know or have heard
of? Name, region of birth, mother's name? Christian or no? Something
that will help us interpret what they say later."
Charles summarized the group's intentions. "Friend, We are interested
in knowing many things. Firstly, Why do some of us have memory of
previous lives here on this River, and others do not -- Is something
blocking their and my memory of previous times here in purgatory?
"Secondly, The dreams that Shaw have had, and that which Shaka related
to us, all share a common thread -- perhaps your skill with dreams
will help us to answer puzzles that they do not see.
"Thirdly, Let us proceed with much caution, for if memory serves me
correct, when you tried to get such answers from Stalin, he succumbed
to a death from within. We must be prepared to break off questioning,
and remove your 'Hypnosis' if something occurs like that.
"I, for one, wish to know of my previous times here on this world, and
why, perhaps I do not dream..."
Josephine took a moment to look around at the lazari, trying to gauge
their reactions to the hypnosis herself, concluding with Shaw, next to
her. While Charles enumerated his questions, she pulled him aside and
spoke softly to him.
"Whatever this session reveals," she said quietly, "let us make a
point to spend some time together afterwards, OK?"
Shaw nodded silently.
"Oh, and if I become too agitated or try to hurt someone, please
restrain me. I trust you to see that I don't cause harm to myself or
another." She smiled at Shaw and touched his cheek briefly before
returning her attention to the group.
After her brief conversation with Shaw, she spoke to the others. "My
offer to go first still stands, but if Charles prefers he go first,
that is acceptable." She smiled and moved off to the side, out of the
way but so that she can still see and hear everything.
Jeanne paled slightly. "What happened to Joseph... Has this happened
to others while you mesmerized them? Is there some danger beyond the
metaphysical one associated with such sorceries?"
"I don't know what happened with Joseph," Freud replied, shaking his
head. "It may be that he was so strongly resistant to answering that
he chose to take his own life. A more sinister possibility is that his
life was somehow taken from him. For us, there may be a danger, but
perhaps not so great. I shall certainly take more care with my friends
than I did with Joseph.
"Let us begin then, for it is already dark, and may well be dawn
before we're through."
Charles came forward and sat on one side of the boat. Freud began
speaking in the soothing monotone that some of the others recalled
from his hypnotism of Joseph, and Charles was soon entranced, his eyes
closed and his voice responding calmly to Freud's questions.
remember and others do not, if the dreams are sent to all.
"What is your name?" Freud began.
"Charles of Aachen."
"Where were you born?"
"Aachen, in the Carolingian Empire."
"What is your religion?"
"Christian. The Holy Roman Church."
Freud nodded, and began the more serious questioning. He pointed to
Josephine. "When did you meet this woman?"
"Twelve days ago."
"How did you meet?"
"We both woke up together in the hills."
"In the hills?" Freud looked surprised. "Not by a grailstone?"
"Not by a grailstone."
"Now, I want you to imagine that you have just woken up. What was the
first thing you said?"
"Yes Nightingale. I be Charles. Christian."
"Now, I want you to go back a little farther in time, to the day
before you woke up. Where are you?"
"I...don't know."
"What do you see or hear?"
"Nothing."
"It is dark?"
"No...not dark. But nothing."
"What is your name?"
"I don't know."
"Can you remember anything?"
"I...no. Nothing."
"Very well, Charles. I want you to return to the present time. I want
to ask you about your dreams. Have you had any dreams?"
"Yes."
"Did you have a dream last night?"
"Yes."
"What happened in your dream?"
"I was naked, and kneeling before a woman, also naked. I was very
excited by her breasts."
"Did you recognize the woman?"
"Yes."
"Who was the woman?"
"Jeanne."
Jeanne blushed furiously at the response. Josephine successfully hid a
smirk.
"Er, yes." Freud continued. "Can you remember any other dreams, dreams
that seemed somehow different or coming from a source outside
yourself?"
"No."
"Are there any images that you have seen in many dreams?"
"I have dreamt that I was an Emperor again many times. I order my
soldiers into battle. I do not learn their fate."
"Very well, Charles. I want you to awaken now, and remember everything
you have said, when I count to three. One. Two. Three."
Charles' eyes snapped open. Looking over the group, his gaze fell on
Jeanne, her cheeks still flushed. Charles reddened in turn and looked
down. "I apologize, Jeanne. I do not remember my dreams, much less
direct them."
"Few do," Freud agreed. "And we have learned but a little from
Charles. His memory for the first 30 days is not buried, but
completely erased! He can recall nothing. This is beyond the
psychology of my day. I do not know if Charles' dreams have any
significance."
"I suppose I'm next," Josephine said.
* * * *
"What is your name?"
"Josephine Baker"
"Where were you born?"
"St. Louis, Missouri"
"You have heard Charles describe his lack of memory for the period
before you met. Do you remember anything from that period?"
"Yes." She shuddered.
"You will remain calm. Nothing will hurt you. What do you remember?"
"Only blurs. Men running and men dead...all around."
"Yes. You mentioned this when you chewed dream gum before. You had a
bad reaction, a seizure, and a dream. What did you dream?"
"I saw strange beasts, with claws. They glowed and were blurry. They
were on our backs. And I saw Glenn, and shadows in a bright white
light, touching the beast on his back, and it vanished. And then I
remembered from before."
"She didn't mention the blurry glow or that Glenn's beast vanished
when she told us about the dream before," Freud noted.
* * * *
"What is your name?"
"Erik Weisz"
"Where were you born?
"Hungary"
"Do you remember when you first awoke on the River?"
"Yes. I was the First Day; everyone was confused, angry, hopeful."
"How did you feel?"
"I was hopeful. I thought I might be able to communicate with the
living world, breach the gap from this side."
"When did you meet these others?"
"Four days ago. I was reborn in the evening and they were there."
"Before that time, did you have any unusual dreams?"
"No."
"After that time?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Last night."
"What did you dream?"
"I heard a man's voice tell me to pay attention and remember. I saw our
group. In a line, Shaw, Benjamin, Charles, a woman I did not
recognize, Josephine, and Jeanne. You and I were standing in front of
them, facing the same direction. You walked forward and stopped, and
then turned to face me. Then I heard another voice, a woman's voice,
tell me to forget, and the dream faded."
* * * *
"What is your name?"
"Thomas Edward Lawrence"
"Where were you born?"
"Wales."
"Why do you name yourself Shaw?"
"I used that name later in life, in the R.A.F."
"You have been experiencing significant visions when chewing
dreamgum. Have you ever had a vision without dreamgum?"
"No."
"What was your last vision?"
"I was a knight, mounted on a horse, on a chess board. The others were
there too, and all those who have vanished. And others who I do not
recognize. A general, a brown-haired woman, a slender man with long
fingers..."
"Those last two might be Maria and Glenn," Josephine whispered. Freud
put his fingers to his lips and asked Shaw to continue.
"The farther I looked, the less I could see the others; the field
shifted strangely, and I could not see what colors the people stood
on. Then I saw a hand reach down and move a man-sized pawn two squares
forward. I was afraid of the hand."
"Did you recognize the pawn?"
"It was a man...pale...I think...I think it was you."
Freud raised an eyebrow. "What color was your horse?"
"White."
"And what color was your square?"
"Black."
"If I remember my chess correctly, that might make you the white
king's knight. Was there anything else?"
"Yes. A strong feeling that I was close to a revelation."
* * * *
"What is your name?"
"Benjamin Franklin."
"Where were you born?"
"Boston, Massachusetts."
"Have you had any strange visions or dreams that you did not remember?"
"Yes."
"What did you dream?"
"A Man came to me. His face was masked behind one of the Masks that
was so popular in Paris when I was a young man. He told me that he was
Unimportant, and could be forgotten, but that I should Contribute to
the Riverworld Civilization by reintroducing the Noble Game of Chess."
"When did this happen?"
"Three nights ago."
"And you began your chess set the next day?"
"Yes."
* * * *
All awakened, the group faced one another as the sun rose.
"Now," Freud asked, "what do you make of these revelations? And what
should we do now?"
* * * *
After the stories ended, Shaka sat alone, thinking and meditating for
some time, then stretched out and fell asleep. The others quickly
followed. Shaka awoke at early down and roused the camp.
"Arise, all of you, today we march." he announced. "Remember, only eat
half of what the grailstone gives, for we may be without before long.
We travel north, to the home of the gods of this place."
As if in celebration of their leave-taking, the grails provided an
unusually bountiful breakfast, and the group did not find it difficult
to save half of the fare. As they ate, Shaka organized the remaining
Zulu males into the units that he invented, the horns, the chest, and
the loins. The youngest and swiftest men were put in the horns, the
fleet-footed fighters who would encircle their enemy and guard the
flanks. The strongest went in the chest, the phalanx that was the
main unit of group. The loins were the reserves, and consisted of the
women of the group and the non-Zulu.
While they ate, Sly moved from person to person, asking for their
spare food or other grail items. Louis offered Sly his dream gum or
tobacco, and Sly happily accepted the former.
When the others weren't watching, Sly looked around for items he might
take without being noticed, but the camp was too vigilant.
After the meal, Shaka pointed to the north. "Come, the scouts will
have left signs and will send us messages. Let us move forward to our
new destiny."
Mandragola, taking his place in the loins of the army, was secretly
pleased. Here at least, he would not have to take part in the kind of
melee that did not suit him.
As they lined up, Mandragola pulled Louis to one side, and said,
almost to himself, "What do you think of the one named 'Sly?' He is a
strange one, no? His dialect appears to be a rather primitive version
of the English language, but he speaks of objects and people that did
not exist during my time on Earth. Very strange."
Louis broke away from his riposte practice, and, with an elated
expression, asked Mandragola if he spoke French. When the latter
smiled, Louis continued in French.
"Sly seems to have no direction...nothing to guide him." the Frenchman
observed. "I think he comes from a time after us, just like Freud and
Mishima. I think Freud was an Austrian, and Mishima was from Japan.
Sly's argot reminds me of the way the Sans-culotte spoke; very base.
I think he is English, but one can be certain of nothing on this
accursed River."
Sly approached Shaka as he was setting up the formations. "'ey man, I
wanna be inna horn, mate, or mebbe a scout. What say, eh bloke? You
heard me story didn't ya? Oi can foit like a bloody rugger if need
be."
"There will be ample time to prove your skill." Shaka replied. "For
now, it is best that you stay with the others who speak English." He
gave Sly a short spear, and left him muttering to himself with Louis
and Mandragola.
When the formations were complete, Shaka took his place at the head of
the group and gave the order to march north.
After an hour's trek, Shaka and the Zulu horns stopped and looked for
signs of the scouts he had sent ahead with Pala. They found nothing,
which occasioned increased murmurs among some of the Zulu. Shaka
ordered them to press on, and by mid-morning they had reached the next
grailstone.
Clustered about the grailstone were a small group of people whose
appearance reminded the others of Mishima. They sat stiffly upright in
neat rows, looking straight ahead, and seemingly did not notice the
army's approach.
* * * *
Riverworld, Day 43, Morning
Sly had moved along in the rear, but at the very front. Trying to blend
in with the end of the 'chest', he had spent a lot of time playing with
the short spear Shaka had given him. Two or three times, he had thrown.
the spear off to the side then scurried after it to retrieve it.
Just out of sight of the grailstone the group now approached, he had
begun to chew two pieces of dreamgum, unbeknownst to the others. He
watched with a glazed look as they came upon the ramrod straight backs
of the sitting group.
Louis turned to Shaka and asked, "It's mid-morning, before the grail
firing...could they be waiting for food? I don't think any of us spoke
Mishima's native tongue. We should tread lightly here."
(If the group or Louis approaches, Louis will lower his sword and at first
meeting not appear openly hostile. If attacked, he will defend himself.
If not, he will attempt to communicate with them in either English or
French, with the purpose of finding out who they are, and what their
purpose is.)
Shaka regarded the seated orientals with caution, then gave orders
for the horns to move out into a flanking position and for the chest
to remain where it was. Signaling Mandragola and Louis to come with
him, he began approaching the small group. Sly, staggering a little,
tagged along.
"These others remind me of Mishima," Shaka said. "Perhaps he is with
them, or they know where he is."
Mandragola studied them with a keen eye. "These are definitely people
from the east. It is hard to tell whether they are warriors or
pacifists, though. The way they sit is disturbing, and most
unusual. Perhaps the army should circle around them, for safety."
Shaka nodded, motioning for the horns to do so. With Mandragola,
Louis, and Sly at his heels, he stepped up to the inhabitants, raising
his scythe and saying in a loud voice, "Hail, we come to you seeking
the lion god of this world. Let us use your grailstone, and we will
speak of the gods of this place and our quest."
The people continued to sit, unmoving.
As Sly watched them, his heart began to race. They seemed to be giving
off an inner light, a glow which at once warmed him and seemed alien.
They had a peace he had never known and he felt an uncontrollable
longing to join them and learn of their ways.
* * * *
"What is it about chess, is it some sort of clue?" Shaw asked. "There
do appear to be at least two sides at work here. We have Shaka's lion
god, the woman whom Eric and my self dreamed of, assuming that it was
the same woman. We should also not forget that Stalin mentioned a
'they' before he died." He sank into thought.
"We are, once again, stymied by the Power responsible for the
Circumstances in which those who have lost those Memories find
themselves." Benjamin said. "But is this Erasure meant simply to
conceal some dark Secret, or is it meant to move them to achieve some
Purpose, itself hidden? I think to find how such a hiding can be
expected to serve some Purpose, but other than the Inquiries we are
making now, I can see no Purpose that the Power could rely on them
achieving thereby. Thus, the concealment of some Secret, and we are
no nearer to knowing it than we ever have been. If this is the same
Power as directed Shaka's Vision, mayhap we cannot trust it, or that
vision."
"And yet, as sure as I speak of the Inscrutability of a Truth does
that Truth mock me by revealing parts of itself! Josephine, when you
said that you remembered from before, do you mean that the Beasts, and
the blurry Glow, are from before, the memory of Men running and dead
all around?"
"Now, Erik's dream...in a line, like Chessmen? Hmm... if the Rooks
are missing, that makes Charles the King, true enough, and myself a
Bishop... chuckle which is as close to a Sage as Chessman get, I'll
grant that... Josephine as a Bishop, and Jeanne and Shaw as Knights,
but are Erik and Freud then Pawns, or the two missing Rooks? Who is
Charles' Queen, someone we have not yet met, or someone who has
vanished before Erik met us? Perhaps Cleopatra, she fits the bill."
He smiled. "But why are those of us without the Erasures among the
Chessmen? And who are the Voices?"
Josephine chuckled. "Me, a bishop? I don't know about being a sage or
religious person...." In a musing voice she added, "I _have_,
however, heard certain entreaties to the heavens...." She let her
voice trail off and smiled a somewhat wicked smile before continuing.
"If the Queen is gone, is the match... game... tournament or whatever
basically over?" Josephine asked. "I don't want to believe that
whatever we are doing is futile. There must be someone," she looked up
to the sky, "up there who wants us to know what is happening, else why
the dreams?"
"The King is the Game, not the Queen," Benjamin continued, "and I
still feel that Pieces are missing. I wonder what, if anything, it
Signifies that the black Chessman are to be Grail-made, and the white
ones made by our Sweat and Labor? And where in this Chessboard is
Shaka, and Mishima, and our other Friends separated now by a half a
width of River and some mismatched Purposes, but not, it has so far
seemed, by the Gulf of open Opposition?
"Mayhap the male and female Voices of Erik's dream are the Players in
this great Game. But which is the lion of Shaka's Vision? Which
erased the Memories of Charles and the others? Which plays White?
And do we, when we play Chess ourselves, thus affect the Fate of
others on Riverworld? Or did we, in our past Lives? Or..."
Benjamin trailed off, swamped by possibilities and combinations and
unanswered, unanswerable questions, and waited for someone else to
contribute to this line of reasoning.
"I know little of this game of chess," Jeanne confessed, "other than
it is a stylized war. But if Charles is the white king, could Shaka be
his opposite? Our party is separated into two groups, hardly armies,
but certainly camps. Charles leads one, Shaka the other. And now he
does have an army of his countrymen to lead."
Shaw looked up at the others with a wry smile. "I wonder if it would
be possible to talk Shaka into being hypnotized once we see him
again. Even if we couldn't persuade him it would be interesting to
watch, assuming no one got killed," he added, laughing. Another
thought struck him. "Hmm, Dr. Freud, is it possible for you to
hypnotize yourself and let us question you?"
"Certainly I would be willing to try," Freud replied.
Jeanne studied Freud, clearly warring with something within her mind.
"You are sure these are truths? The answers they gave?" She looked
around at the group and hastily added, "I do not imply that they
lie. But if Charles memory could be erased completely, could not other
answers have been writ in those empty spaces?"
"A telling point." Freud agreed. "The erasure of memory was beyond my
abilities to break through. Surely that casts doubt on the memories I
could bring forward."
"What do we know for sure?" Shaw asked, but continued without waiting
for an answer. "We know we died. We know we have been reborn on this
river. We know Charles has had a month worth of memories erased
somehow, and Josephine seems to have some hidden memories of the same
time. We also know that somewhere there is the means to forge
metal. We also know that Shaka was killed and reborn at the same spot
he died."
"Unfortunately," Freud replied, "we know no such things. If we, like a
Cartesian, really set out to doubt everything and thus learn what can
not be doubted, we can find little that stands up to our
scrutiny. Perhaps, as Descartes wondered, we are simply dreaming,
hypnotized, or being deceived. Perhaps we only think we are
ourselves."
Josephine frowned and shook her head, looking puzzled for a moment
before restoring a pleasant smile to her face. "I don't see that
we're going to come to any conclusions before breakfast, so please,
excuse me until then."
She bowed her head to the group and raised an eyebrow to Shaw. He
followed here as she walked to the other end of the boat.
Freud chuckled. "It is good to see that libido was resurrected along
with thanatos."
"What shall we do about breakfast?" Charles asked. "Perhaps we should
put in an replenish our supplies. This afternoon Freud can hypnotize
himself...if we still feel it can be trusted," he added, with a glance
at Jeanne.
"Well, now does look like a good time a good time to spend some time
together." Shaw said with a smile as he and Josephine leaned against
the bow rail. "Was there anything specific you had in mind?"
"Had in mind?" she echoed. "I thought perhaps we could swim and talk a
little more... Get to know one another better. Would this be
agreeable to you?"
Shaw leaned back against the rail, stretched and said with a smile,
"That would be great. Even knights and bishops should get to relax
once in a while."
Soon, the couple dove into the water, and swam together alongside the
boat.
* * * *
Riverworld, Day 43, Morning
* * * *
Swimming next to Shaw, Josephine remarked, "Ah, now this swim is much
more relaxing than all that talk about being controlled by an unknown
force, you must agree?"
"I don't know that I expected Charles to have such... erotic dreams
about our own Jeanne," she continued. "And from the look on her face,
neither did she. Though _I_ have had my own share of such dreams, I
must admit..."
"Well," Shaw replied, "I have read a few of Dr. Freud's books and he
did say that such dreams are quite common, although I doubt that would
mean little to either one of them. Other than those dreams from the
dream gum I have never put much faith in dreams, I have always found
reality to be much more fascinating."
While Josephine and Shaw swam, Charles pondered, silent and pensive
during the course of the morning. After some time he seemed to have
put his embarrassment behind him.
Jeanne directed the boat toward the nearest grailstone, which appeared
to be abandoned. Shaw and Josephine swam ashore, joining the
others. Their grails yielded a soupy porridge which Josephine told
them was made of hominy and called "grits", along with melon, bread,
and a pat of butter.
During breakfast, Benjamin addressed Freud. "Freud, I see nothing to
make me think that these Powers have changed our Memories, or our
Perceptions, rather than simply erasing them. It is amusing to ponder
Metaphysics, but we must return to the practical, even in this World.
We must assume that our Perceptions at least approximate Reality, that
we are truly here.
"I do not know much about Mesmerism," he continued, "but if this
Erasure is beyond even your Skill, we cannot know if it is possible to
plant a false Memory inside an Erasure. However, do we imagine that
whatever Power did this intended for you to perform this Mesmerism so
that the hidden false Memory might be released? If not, we can assume
that..."
Benjamin trailed off, then caught his own error. "Hmmmm... a Power
that can make me start building Chessmen and think I chose that
myself, can make you decide to use your Mesmerism and think you chose
it yourself. Hmmph."
Ehrich laughed. "That's nothing mysterious. The most important rule
in mentalism is to let the subject think they did the choosing
themselves. Also important is that if the subject doesn't choose what
you want, to make them think it's what you wanted all along. This
chess motif is likely your own idea, since as an avid fan, surely this
would be visible in your thoughts. The people that control our dreams
borrowed this idea to present you with symbolism you could understand.
They certainly did not give you the desire to create chess pieces,
that came from your love of chess which you had even before you died,
and you would probably have tried building these pieces even without
your unremembered dreams. The chess pieces are a coincidence, and not
even an unusual coincidence...Except however, that causing dreams and
erasing memories are beyond the realms of trickery as far as I know."
"But I am no great Aficionado of Chess." Benjamin replied. "No more
than other men are, probably less than most... in fact, I have always
preferred to swim."
"Here's another question," Ehrich added. "If we're all supposed to be
chess pieces, then what is the game itself, and what are the stakes?
Are we moving of our own will, or is there a hand that nudges us
along?"
Jeanne, more animated than earlier in the morning, spoke up.
"Whatever creatures you say you saw in your dreams, who are we that
they would take such a special interest in us? In my day, such things
were not uncommon! They were dark times and the Devil's hand was
always upon the populace. His demons often possessed innocent persons
and caused them to do all manner of strange things. The demons could
be cast out by a proper exorcism."
"There can never be wrong in trying many Approaches, fair lady."
Benjamin agreed. "If we come across someone who you feel is qualified
to perform an Exorcism, I will render whatever Assistance I can. I
confess I am less than comfortable with the Powers which intrude into
my very Thoughts."
"Finding a priest might prove difficult, but surely one has been
raised somewhere along this River. And there is also precedent for
such quests: seeking a holy man is a time-honored pilgrimage. 'Ask and
it shall be given ye; seek and ye shall find.' Shaka found his
countrymen, will the Lord do less for his handmaiden?"
Benjamin smiled at her. "Perhaps then we should pray for Guidance.
That is, if you will consent to share a Prayer with me."
"This game of chess before us -- it is intriguing." Charles said. "It
is inherently a game of Kings, and it symbolizes war and strategy.
Pieces are sacrificed for the greater good of the King controlling the
board. On one level, we might assume that since I was once a King,
and so was Shaka, that we represent the kings on the board. That may
be, but perhaps we need to look deeper into what we have seen before
us. Rather than assigning us ranks, I think perchance we are ALL
pawns to be sacrificed, while some 'King' or 'Queen' whom we can't see
controls the game board. I find this place to be a game board of
sorts. Perhaps each of these Grailstones is a square, and each side
of the river represent white or black in some fashion.
"Or perhaps as Benjamin and Shaw have kindly summarized, Shaw is the
Knight, Benjamin a Bishop, myself a King, my mysterious Queen is present
but unknown, Josephine as the other bishop, Jeanne as the other knight.
Both rooks are missing, and Freud and Erik are 2 of the 8 pawns; the
others missing. Perhaps the mysterious Queen, is the woman that has
appeared in many dreams. The queen is most mobile and powerful piece on
the board. It perhaps makes sense.
"I think perhaps we are close to an answer, yet even when you have all the
shard of a urn, what remains is putting the urn back together."
"I don't think we should think of Shaka and the others as our
opponents," Shaw replied, "or even Stalin and Temuchin for that
matter. Whom ever is playing this game is our true foe. I for one
would like to see that the pieces come out on top in this game."
As the sun rose, Freud called the others to him. "I suppose now would
be as good a time as any for me to try to hypnotize myself. Once I'm
under, ask your questions. Any of you should be able to awaken me." He
looked at Benjamin.
He turned his eyes toward the River, and watched the water flow
downstream until his lids fell shut and breathing deepened.
* * * *
Shaka nodded to Louis. "This is a good idea. They seem ill-prepared
to stop us from using their grailstone in any case." Mandragola
nodded in agreement. Shaka made hand signals, ordering his group to
surround the grailstone. While the men kept a defensive stance, the
women began to insert the group's grails into the slots. There were
enough slots to fit all of the Zulu's grails, as well as those of the
strange people sitting in rows.
Louis watched the men sitting around the grailstone and wondered what
they could be doing. It somewhat looked to him like prayer. Eastern
prayer, perhaps. It was quite pleasant, he thought, so unlike the
constant babbling of the Christian church.
"They give no indication either they have heard us or care to
respond." he said. "Quite inscrutable. Let us have our lunch.
Perhaps this will force the issue along."
"These people..." Sly replied, "They've found something..."
Mandragola, with a curious look, walked to the back of the group, and
prodded a slender man with the butt of his spear. Immediately, the man
sprang up, and angry look on his face.
"What did you do that for? I was so close, and you had to come and
ruin it! We didn't bother you..."
He was interrupted as a woman sitting in the middle of the group
silently raised her hand above her head. With a glance both resentful
and reproachful, the man returned to his sitting position, struggling
to ignore the lazari.
Sly erupted. "You fewkin' idiot! Can't you see them glowing?" He
grabbed his spear and moved menacingly toward Mandragola, his eyes
shining with an almost fanatical light.
Riverworld, Day 43, Noon
* * * *
Louis looked at Sly as if he were insane, something it occurred to
Louis as being quite a distinct possibility. He stepped in front of
Mandragola and addressed the maddened man. "Calm yourself, Sly. Do
not be so hasty to turn on your comrade. I do not see this glow
either. Perhaps you have had too much dreamgum. Jeanne's use of it
certainly seemed to plague her."
He glanced at Mandragola, and spoke in French.
"Do not turn your back on him for very long," Louis warned. "He either
borders on insanity or is too prone to folly."
"Shaka," Louis continued, again speaking in English, "I think they
were trying to communicate with their god. Maybe we should obtain our
grail and move on, for the sake of expediency."
Mandragola watched Sly's antics with a mixture of amusement and
puzzlement. To Louis and Shaka, he said, "What is he babbling about? I
see no glow coming from these people, and I suspect maybe Sly has
overdone the dreamgum. I really doubt it has anything to do with the
ceremony these people are holding, and I would be most suprised if any
God would reveal himself in this way to a barbarian like Sly." He
paused briefly before adding with a chuckle, "No self-respecting God,
at least!"
Sly shouted at Louis and Mandragola. "Bloody 'ell, they're glowin'!!
Stay back oi tells ya!"
He turned and looked at the 'glowing people'. Shouting at them now, he
cried, "Ain't gonna blast us wit' yer glowin' powers!" He took his
spear and hurled it at them, then crouched down low, yelling, "Watch
out, 'ey moit blow up!!"
The explosion was like nothing Sly had imagined. As his spear
hit the glowing man, the glow increased to an almost blinding level,
and the spear bounced off the man with a pyrotechnic flash.
Louis and Mandragola watched Sly's spear glance off one of the seated
group, doing them no harm. Sly, however, appeared even more excited.
* * * *
Charles steps forward quietly, "Freud, do you know who I am?"
Freud replied in a monotone. "You are Charles of Aachen."
"Where are you now, Freud?"
"The River-place"
"Do you remember your first words when you first met me?"
"I said, 'I have called myself Friend, but my name on Earth was
Freud. I was a doctor in Austria, and a student of the human
mind.'"
"What are you first memories of this world?"
"I awakened in a place with a grailstone and people began
killing one another. I fled."
"Do you have any dreams of Chess boards and platers?
"No. I have not had any dreams since I woke here."
"If this were a game of chess are you a Pawn or a King?"
"I do not know. I do not feel like a King."
"Do you recognize the Lion man or the mysterious woman?"
"No."
"Do any of us have beasts on our backs now?"
"I do not know."
After hearing Charles' questions and Freud's answers, Benjamin asked
one more question: "Freud, have you any Memories that are hidden
from yourself or us, of things you have seen or felt or thought or
experienced in the River-place?"
Freud stammered his response. "I...yes...but I don't...I can't..."
The others looked noticeably surprised. "Do you know who or what told
you not to remember these things?" Shaw inquired.
"No one told me not to remember. I just...can't."
"How long do your memories of being on this river go back?"
"Forty-three days."
Charles looks confused and whispered to the Shaw and Benjamin. "I
thought we, I mean you, had only been here 30 days?? Is this longer
than you have memory of?? Could Freud have been 'resurrected' before
any of the rest of us? If so, fo what purpose?"
Finally, Ehrich raised his voice. Gently, he asked, "Can you hear me
clearly?"
"Yes. I can hear you clearly," Freud replied.
"There are things you do not remember. Someone does not wish you to
remember these things, because you might accidentally tell them to an
enemy. Does this feel reasonable to you?"
"Yes."
"We are your friends, and we trust each other. You have been through
many trials with some of us. If we make a pledge not to reveal what
you say to an enemy, are there any among us you trust enough to tell
your hidden memories to?"
Freud glanced around the group, his eyes lingering on Benjamin and
Charles.
"I trust you...but...I...can't. It won't come."
"Are you afraid of these memories, or are they just not there?
Do you think these memories are permanently erased leaving only a hole
in your mind, or are they just locked away from you."
"I don't know. I am not afraid."
"I would like you to dream tonight. And you will remember this dream
when you awaken and have full recall of it. In this dream, you will
try to paint these hidden memories indirectly with symbols. This way
you will not be actually recalling your memories and will not be
divulging them to others. Any fears or restraints will be bypassed
because you will not look at your memories directly. You will be
viewing Medusa through a darkened mirror. Will you try and do this?"
"Yes."
Jeanne, who seemed to have overcome her fear of the 'witchery' of
hypnosis, watched the proceedings with as much interest as the
others. "Perhaps if we could find a Pattern. The Lord works in
mysterious ways, but the devil is predictable, once you see his
patterns." Finally, she voiced a question. "Have you discerned any
pattern to the selection of the lazari? Any recurrent themes from our
lives -- for you seem familiar with most of our histories -- that
would indicate why these beings have taken such an interest in us?"
Freud mutely shook his head.
At Ehrich's direction, Freud awakened. He seemed to remember the
questioning, and was pleased that he had been helpful. "And we shall
see if I dream tonight," he added.
"And I," Shaw agreed, hopefully.
"Charles," Benjamin said, "I believe perhaps there is yet one piece of
the Urn we have not. While these Events are fascinating, I believe we
must return to our Search for the source of the Scythe. I am far less
sure that Shaka's Vision of the Lion-god leading us north to find it
was honest, but north is as good as south to us now."
Charles nodded, and with Shaw at the helm, the boat resumed its
northward journey.
Shaw wondered if he might not be better occupied seeking his visions;
despite Benjamin's doubts, he felt as strongly as ever that they held
the key to the mysteries of the Riverworld.
Jeanne, Charles, and Benjamin shared the prayer that the latter
suggested, and Jeanne again expressed her concerns about finding a
priest. "Can we even be certain there is one along the River? And if
so, I do not know how we would go about searching for him. It seems
almost hopeless."
But hope proved to be with them, for as the afternoon waned on the
River, they came to the fourth grailstone on the west side, and found
there a large steepled building with a bamboo cross attached to the
top.
Riverworld, Day 43, Afternoon
* * * *
On seeing the church, Benjamin began to speak, but then stopped
himself, deferring to Jeanne. But it was Charles, awe-struck, who knelt
on the deck of the boat and murmured in Latin.
"Heavenly Father, Divine Leader, you take this time to answer our needy
prayer and show us this sign of your love and power. With great thanks
and supplication, I entreat thee, and promise thee that I will stay the
true course and see your will done in this."
He stood again. "It is a true sign and blessing that the very element
of our prayer and search is put before us. We must take this as both
a sign to stop here, and a sign that God himself, guides our hand in
these matters.
"Any symbol of the crucifix, is a good sign. Be these people of a more
modern religion, or of great Rome itself, they can provide us with
some blessing and guidance in our search. Rarely has the Church ever
turned away those seeking knowledge, and never has the church sought
to hide itself from Evil. How I wish that the Great Pope Leo, were
living here, but that is too much to hope for. Even in his blindness
was his judgment fair and even, and his love of God and his people
the strongest of all the Popes. I would hope for a Roman Catholic
Church, but We will take the sign for what it gives to us.
"If it please you all, let us put in here."
"Yes!" agreed Jeanne.
Charles turned and spoke quietly to her, placing his hand gently
on her shoulder.
"Jeanne, I must hope that this reinforces your faith, and shows you
that perhaps, even if your voices have faded, that God is still with
you and listening to your prayers."
"La, sir," she replied. "I do not take credit for this occurrence;
surely it was your prayers that the Lord heard. For you have proven
yourself a man of God, and he hears the voices of the righteous."
Shaw brought the boat toward the shore again. "As we don't know just
what kind of reception we will be receiving," he said, "I suggest that
we keep our identities to ourselves for the time being, especially the
two of you." He nodded at Charles and Jeanne. "At least until we
know who our hosts are. After all, they could be English."
Jeanne's palpable enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Yes, of course you are
correct. In my eagerness, I was blinded."
Benjamin chuckled at Shaw. "When I left behind my prior Life, the
English were none too happy with me, either."
"Oh?" Jeanne asked, "Did they wish to burn you alive, as well?"
"Oh, nothing so serious, burning alive was more or less eliminated by
my part of History." Benjamin replied. "But neither did anyone
canonize me." He grinned widely. Jeanne looks slightly uncomfortable.
"I've been in English jails often," Ehrich added, smiling, "and
they've tried to drown me several times. But they were very nice and
polite about it the whole time."
Josephine grinned and winked at Ehrich, speaking with a slight drawl.
"I don't think I've ever aroused the enmity of the English,
personally."
Shaw laughed out loud. "Well, its a good thing that we don't hold
grudges for more than a century or so, I for one have no problem with
either of you."
"Whomever they are, they are still people of God." Jeanne said. "And
lying is still a sin most foul. I will not offer more than a name to
them, but if they ask I will not deny my self or my God."
Charles looked confused. "Who are these Englush? Where did they come
from, Where did they live and how did they get to be feeling so
superior?
"We were known as Britons in your time," Shaw answered him. "Had quite
a large empire some seven or eight centuries after your death,
although by my time it had begun to decline." He smiled and added,
"As to our feelings of superiority, well, I suppose that comes to all
great empire builders."
"You must also remember those back on Earth who used the name of the
Lord for evil," Josephine added wryly. "A cross in and of itself is
only as holy as the ones erecting it." She moved to stand near Shaw.
The boat put in to shore near the church, and the group disembarked.
From the outside, the building was a simple cabin-like structure made
from wood and bamboo, which stood near the grailstone by the River.
Its steeple was almost completely bamboo, but the cross affixed to the
steeple was carved wood.
Seeing no one about, the group came to the door of the building and
knocked anxiously. It opened to reveal a man of medium height, with
unkempt hair and towels arranged to suggest a monk's robes. His eyes
flashed brilliantly as he looked over the group.
"I knew you would arrive today!" he exclaimed in a voice with a trace
of a Slavic or Russian accent. "I am Father Gregory. Welcome! Welcome
to the New Orthodox Church of the River!"
* * * *
Louis stood shocked, staring at the Asian men by the grailstone.
If he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would have surely
discounted it as the ramblings of a mad man. The spear was poorly
thrown, and yet, even Sly should be capable of damaging a still
target.
"More insanity! Do the laws of Reason and Sense not function here?!
Our comrades vanish with nary a trace, food materializes from large
stones . . . I feel I am lost in a world of delusion."
Louis slumped against a nearby tree and watches the Asian men.
"Someone or something does not wish these men to be molested. Is it
of their doing or did they beseech their God for his protection?"
He sighed, spent more mentally then physically. "I am a man of
reason. I do not believe in miracles, divine power . . . and yet,
there it is."
"I am babbling as but a boy might!" he shouted in disgust, angry with
himself, and walked to the shore of the River to stare into the clear
flowing water.
Sly looked up from his crouch at the reaction to his spear. He
immediately stood and turned to his companions. "'at's roit mateys,
what'd oi tell you eh? Lissen ta' me, don't be tellin' Sid Vicious
whatta do again, if ya know what's good fer ya!"
He gave a long, smug, ugly smile to his companions, and watched their
reactions closely.
Shaka looked at Sly with anger in his eyes. "Silence! Or I will
silence you permanently. Show some discipline, you... strange
person."
He looked at the meditating people, puzzled. Then he turned to the
rest of the group. "I see no glowing, I see no lights. Yet clearly
they act strangely. I believe you are correct, Louis, we should not
dally here. Come! Let us take the stone, refill our grails and
be gone, we have more important things than this to worry about."
Repeating the order for his Zulus, Shaka set about surrounding the
grailstone.
Sly began to feel very strange. Looking at the holy people he watched
their glow shimmer and then fade. When it was all but gone, he was
struck with the worst headache of a life characterized by worst
headaches.
Once the grails were refilled, Shaka signaled for the others to
continue their march northward. Mandragola shot a glance at Sly,
uncertain if the man would follow Shaka's order, but Sly, rubbing his
head and almost staggering, joined them at the back of the army.
As night began to fall, they came upon one of the scouts who had gone
ahead, waiting for them in their path. He looked up at Shaka, and
bowed, barely concealing a smile. "My King, we have found what may be
the source of the metal, one grailstone forward. It is guarded,
however, by fierce-looking men with blue faces. Pala and the others
wait for you to join."
Riverworld Day 43, Evening
* * * *
Shaw shrugged. "Well, he's certainly not English."
Upon hearing Father Gregory's greeting, Jeanne began to weep. Bereft
of speech, she fell to her knees and kissed the hem of his
garment. Benjamin observed the proceedings with guarded interest.
When at last she was able to speak again, she asked him to hear her
confession, and whether he might be induced to even say a mass. "For
we have been here in this strange land for lo these many days without
His Word," she pleaded.
"But of course, my child," he said, favoring her with his twinkling
eyes. "Come in, come in."
Josephine, who had been standing apart and observing, smiled
slightly. She looked briefly startled, and touched Shaw's arm,
whispering to him. Father Gregory walked into the church, followed by
Jeanne, Benjamin, Charles, and Freud. Ehrich, Shaw, and Josephine
remained outside.
Inside, the building was as simple as its exterior, a large room with
rough benches hewn from small trees. The dominant feature of the room
was a raised altar of unworked stone, and a large cross suspended from
the ceiling above the altar.
"We have no confessional," he said apologetically, "but perhaps my
vestry will serve?" He indicated a bamboo door to the side of the
altar. Jeanne followed him beyond.
The vestry, Jeanne discovered, also served as Father Gregory's living
quarters. A bamboo cot and two simple stools were the only
furnishings. For twenty minutes, Jeanne poured out her heart to the
priest, who nodded compassionately.
"My child, do not doubt that your faith is being tested. Keep strong,
and fear the Lord, and you will triumph. As for your sins, you have
wronged your companions in your heart, by suspecting them of
witchcraft and consorting with the devil because you did not
understand their ways. As penance, you must pray for understanding,
and seek in the future to learn more from your fellows."
Jeanne nodded, her chest quivering.
"Ego te absolvo, my child."
Jeanne and the priest returned to the main room after about half an
hour, and Father Gregory conducted a mass in Latin. Though some of the
language was different than the Roman Catholic mass to which Charles
and Jeanne were accustomed, Charles managed to join in by chanting the
hymns he found familiar.
For his homily, he chose the subject of passion, and spoke at some
length.
"What is passion?" he concluded. "The bible speaks of the passion of our
Lord, and by this we know that some passion is divine and holy. Yet it
also speaks of the mortal sin of Lust, by which we know that passion
can also be a perverse and corrupting influence.
"Here in this new land, which our Lord has graciously seen fit to give
us, we must see to it that we honor our holiness, and not our
lust. Far too many have gone the way of licentiousness; instead, we
must seek a state of lustlessness. When the profane passions are
quieted, the divine Passion may once again make itself felt. Amen."
When the mass was over, they returned outside, Father Gregory in tow,
to find the others.
Ehrich, Shaw, and Josephine, meanwhile, had surveyed the area around
the church. The building itself, they noted, seemed too much work for
a single man to have built, "however divinely inspired," Josephine
added. Behind it, almost hidden among the trees at the base of the
foothills, they found a small village of a dozen rude huts.
Their approach did not seem to concern the villagers, and Josephine
tried to speak with the inhabitants, approaching first children and
men, and finally women. While the villagers smiled at her obvious
warmth, they seemed unable to understand her; Shaw and Ehrich faired
no better with their language.
Resorting to signs, the villagers managed to convey that they had
built the church. They seemed to revere Father Gregory. Shaw noticed
that they had some simple stone tools, but not much else. The group
returned to the church after about an hour, in time to join the others
at the end of the mass, who were speaking amiably to the priest.
Jeanne seemed very pleased to have found the church and to have had a
confession. She encouraged the others to similarly lighten their
burdens by offering them up to God, before addressing Father Gregory.
"Are there others here with you? A monastery, perhaps? Did you build
the church alone? Have you seen other holy men along the River?"
"Not alone," he replied. "There is a village nearby. The villagers
built me the church. Perhaps one day it will be a monastery, but I
have met few along the River who value the monastic life as I do."
"How did you know we would come today?" Benjamin asked.
"I was troubled last week, and I prayed for guidance. I heard a voice
tell me that soon I would be visited by a group of people, an eclectic
band who would reveal great things to me. You are the only group to
fit that description." He smiled.
"A Voice, you say?" Benjamin asked, "How did the Voice sound?"
"I can not describe it," the priest replied. "Until you have heard it,
you can not understand."
Charles spoke, "Father, we prayed to find a priest, and it seems our
prayers were answered. We are seeking spiritual guidance, on a quest.
I am ..... a Christian, and supporter of the Popes."
Father Gregory nodded, frowning slightly, murmuring, "Of the holy
Patriarchs, I hope, and not the worldly ones."
"I am always struggling to understand the mysteries of God's plan."
Charles continued. "Perhaps you could guide us, or offer opinion?"
"I will be happy to provide whatever guidance I can to you, my
children. And I hope that you will tell my of your quest, that I might
learn from you as well. But it is dark. Fill your grails and rest
tonight in my church."
The group agreed, and after a hearty dinner, gathered in the main room
of the church to spend the night, each ruminating upon the meaning of
their meeting.
* * * *
The scout soon led them to Pala's group, who squatted in a copse of
ironwood trees.
Louis turned to Shaka. "Finally!" he said, a smile crossing his face,
as the tension eased from his shoulders. He briefly regarded the
scout, then continued, "Blue faces, you say? The Celts painted their
faces blue; perhaps they are a band of Irishmen.... No matter. We
should surround them and observe. Maybe we can discern the operation
of the source of metal. It would not do us any good to go charging in
to battle with them only to find out we cannot operate whatever it is
that produces the metal."
He glared at Sly. "And you, you need gain control of yourself. If
you continue to act like a fool, you will prove to be a liability.
And that my friend, is a very tenuous position."
Sly looked at Shaka, and then Louis, with a sneer on his face. He
spat on the ground, and said passionately, "Fook the both of ya! I
showed ya that the bloody folks was glowin' and you sit there squawkin'
at me! They're glowin'! Did you see what happen'd ta the spear?
Bollocks!" He seethed, tense with anger.
"Silence for once," Mandragola snapped, "lest we be forced to silence
you permanently. Can't you see that we have reached a critical point
in our quest? We have better things to do than to exchange hollow
threats with a deranged caveman."
He turned to Louis and Shaka. "This man is proving to be a danger to
us all. It seems that he is able only to provoke others, which is not
an attribute which we..."
Suddenly Mandragola broke off, his face lighting up and a smile
playing on his lips. "I have thought of a use for Sly! We should use
him as bait, to lure the blue-faced warriors from their resting
place. Then, we can fall on them in ambush." He clapped his hands
together to illustrate the point, then looked to his companions for
their opinions of the plan.
Shaka's reaction was likewise swift. "I care not what you think," he
growled at Sly. "I owe nothing to you. Silence, lest your garbage
talk jeopardize us.
"We shall surround this group on three sides, and then attempt to
parlay with these strange ones. We shall stand ready though, they are
obviously wearing battle paint."
To Mandragola, he added quietly, "And if the opportunity arises, we
shall see."
Shaka gave Pala the orders, and the Zulu moved slowly and silently to
carry them out. The meticulous approach would take at least 30
minutes, leaving the lazari time to ponder as they excitedly neared
what might be their goal.
* * * *
Louis crouched down and watched as the scouts disappeared,
reconnoitering the terrain. Their furtive movements reminded him of
scouts of his own . . . what now seemed like a hundred years ago.
The paradox did not escape him. Only days had passed, yet the void
was so huge between then and now.
Then, as now, there was a struggle. Ideals, "righting a history of
wrongs," as he was so fond of saying, all those things seemed so trite
in this place, by this River. He began to feel contempt of sorts, and
just as rapidly it passed.
There was still a need for ideals; Something To Fight For.
Yes, he thought, as he watched the last of the scouts vanish, there is
the mystery of this River that vexes him so. Lion Gods and
grailstones. Dreamgum and scythes.
The Afterlife or no . . . the answers would be his!
* * * *
"Bunch of big blue bollocks," Sly thought, as the visuals and sounds
swirled past him, filtered through a dreamgum haze.
"Big bastard treatin' me like a sack a' sh*t, bunch a boy buggerin'
blokes behind 'im." Inward scream, outward sneer. "It's bloody Malcolm
all over again. Fookin' bastards, all of 'em. 'ey'll get theirs soon
enough though matey, roit there."
Blind fury masked by the sneer, always the sneer, kept in line only by
a sly sense of survival, would let loose someday... someday soon.
"'at's roit matey, jus' make sure you take some of the buggers wit' ya
before the big guy takes you out."
* * * *
If one were not devout, one might almost be disappointed. Is this
really what all one's suffering was for? Ah, but that is a selfish
thought. Sweet reward is not why one did what one did; one was not
thinking of oneself. Still, it seems ... dare I say it? Is God
listening? He is always listening. It seems unfair. There. I said
it. Are you listening, God? Sometimes I don't think You are. I listen
so hard for Your voice, but I cannot hear it. Not here. Even Saint
Margaret has abandoned me, and she was the most devoted of the three
voices. I have no one to guide me, tell me where to step next. I am
afraid. Afraid like I have never been in my life because until now I
have never felt that You were not with me. Perhaps I had shut You out,
when I was alone and imprisoned, but even then I knew You were with me
if only I would turn to You. But this place... it is not like the
Earth You created. And these people are so unlike my people. They are
even stranger than the English! I almost think that some of them are
proud of their sinfulness!
Father Gregory says I should not judge them so harshly. "They are
different" he says. "And that is not the same as saying they are
evil." But he did not SEE! They jumped into the water, and did not
sink! What's more, they actually moved through it as if borne up by
the devil's own hand and propelled forward. Still. I must trust that
the good Father understands these things better than I. He is a kind
man, this Father, to impose such a light penance for my sins. Perhaps
he is not as strict as he might be, but his heart is good. And in
truth, I am much relieved to have made my confession. Even if God is
not listening to me, His lowly handmaiden, surely He will listen to
His priest's intercession on my behalf. I do hope we might prevail
upon Father Gregory to join our party. I am sure I do not merit a
personal confessor, but perhaps Charles does. I am sure Charles would
not mind if I also availed myself of the good Father in that case.
Surely Charles understands the ecstatic joy of the confessional,
having all ones sins lifted from one's heart, being cleansed and made
worthy once again to serve the Lord? Perhaps now I will be able to
hear my voices again? Please, Lord? I am ready to do your bidding?
Lord?
* * * *
Well, life has certainly been more interesting here than with the town
I was at. More dangerous and unstable. But this attracts me. Was I
so unsuited to the bucolic life that the powers in this place uprooted
me and tossed me amongst these adventurers? Not a common man among
them it seems. I always wanted to contact the dead, but who'd have
thought it'd be like this! I wish we could be contacted by the
living, I'd peer out their crystal balls and tell those fakers how it
really is.
And just who are these powers who brought me here anyway? If this is
a supernatural place, are they gods? But this hasn't the feel of the
supernatural about it, we travail and eat and sleep, all as if we are
still alive. If this is a scientific place, are these powers mere
men? I should have read Jules Verne, he may have imagined something
like this; but I thought he was just a cheap purveyor of thrills for
the gullible. Hmm, that's exactly what I was though.
Maybe I'm entertaining still, and those in power are watching us on
our riverboat stage? That would be the cosmic laugh. Ladies and
Gentlemen, the Eight Wonder of the World, in his first appearance on
the River Styx, the incomparable Houdini! That's not such a strange
thought though. Every one of us would be a big attraction by
ourselves, but as a group we'd be the biggest draw ever. Hmmph, if
that's all this turns out to be, I'll give them a piece of my mind.
* * * *
Taking a moment, Shaka pressed his hands to his forehead and thought,
looking around.
For a moment, it was as if he was looking at everything around him in a
new light. Looking at the strangers before him, he thought longer
about this new place.
"Everywhere I look, I see strangeness. Who would have thought the
world so large, with so many kinds of people in them. I only ever saw
a handful of whites when I was alive, but here... they are everywhere!
And the yellow skinned ones like Temuchin and Mishima... and the dusky
ones like the woman I coupled with... so many different people."
Shaka shook his head.
"So twice it is now that I have died, and twice I have awakened here.
This is the afterlife... and yet it is not as my people foresaw.
And yet, I am not the only one here. Pala and the others are here,
though they know me not.
"Why oh why is this place not the paradise we proclaimed? That would
have been so simple. Here, I am surrounded by people who speak
strange tongues, given a pail that gives me strange food, and forced
to wear this strange cloth clothes... it makes no sense."
The thoughts made him uncomfortable, and he started getting that
feeling again, the out of control feeling. He fought back, thinking:
"Ahhh, but these people are not chosen by the Lion god of this place.
Surely by getting to the place where my scythe was formed, I will be
taken to paradise, or be made king of this place.
"Or if not... with the metal I shall win, I shall place myself at the
head of an army so mighty, I shall not stop until all the world is
united and Zulu!"
Shaka smiled.
"Ahhh, yes. That is the way. But as before... there are those who
challenge me. And they must be... silenced. The new one, Sly... he
is too unruly, and must be made example of. Louis is useful, but
thinks too openly. Mandragola can be trusted... for now. Charles on
the other hand. Charles I must deal with as soon as I see him. He is
strong, and will try to keep me from my rightful place. Did he see
the Lion God? Did he best Temuchin? No! And I think it is time he
felt the scythe he thought to keep from me. He is a warrior, and
well-muscled, but puny compared to me, and I have the scythe of the
Lion God!"
Shaka's eyes glazed over somewhat as he thought on this some more.
"And then, I shall make the black woman my queen, and the small white
one shall be my handmaid, and all the men shall serve me as my army...
and we shall be victorious!"
Shaka's smile was interrupted as he heard someone sneaking up on him.
He jumped and spun to face the attacker, but there was nobody there.
Puzzled, he turned to face where he was before, wondering what he was
thinking about. Unable to remember, he concentrated on the task at
hand.
* * * *
Shaw dove into the water and swam out towards the center of the river
with swift strong strokes, then turned and swam back to shore. Then
with a smile and a wave at those who he saw there he turned and swam
back out again. He stopped and floated for a short time then swam down
until he could still just make out the sun's light at the surface,
then still holding his breath he slowly let himself drift to the
surface.
"Is this what it was like? Peace, quiet, no memories because there was
nothing to remember? Finally free of all burdens and cares. Still, it
would get quite dull after a time," he thought as he broke the surface
and started the swim back to shore " and who knows, maybe I will be
able to find Frank and Will again, that would be nice after all these
years. Ha, not likely if everyone who ever lived is here, why, there
are over 1000 years of history in this little group of ours alone.
Charlemagne and Joan of Arc, who would have thought? That is if they
are who they say they are. It's hard to tell what is real here and
what is a dream, still, as dreams go this one is lasting awfully
long. Maybe I'll be waking up in a hospital bed any time now..'My,
Mr. Lawrence, you gave us quite a scare for a moment there but you
pulled through quite well. ' 'Excuse me Dr. but my name is Shaw now,
but thank you for keeping me in one piece all the same.'...Now there
is one good thing about this river, no more reporters following me
about trying to find out what the great Lawrence is going to be doing
next."
Shaw was giggling as he walked out of the river and began to dry
himself off. "Yes, I suppose that makes all this worth it. I never
knew that one had to go to such great lengths to be free of the press
though."
Shaw's mood sobered as he looked up at the church. "Now then, this is
where things get interesting. Is this God's plan for the after life,
they ask, Why aren't things like they were supposed to be? As if
anyone really knew. I wonder if Father Gregory has any ideas on
this. Hm, I wonder if he is who I think he is..and what is his purpose
here. If I'm right then I don't think he would be content to sit in
his little church for the rest of eternity. I'll have to find out
tomorrow, maybe after breakfast.
Shaw glanced over at the nearby grail stone as he had this thought.
"Grailstones. Why on earth, or heaven for that matter, would God use
such a bizarre contraption? No, this isn't Gods work, I'm sure of
that, as sure as I have ever been sure of anything..and I am getting a
little tired of who or what ever is behind all this playing with me as
if I was some sort of tool for their enjoyment. Why can't I ever be
left in peace? Not even in death am I truly free of it all. Maybe once
we find whatever it is we are looking for I will have a better idea of
what is truly going on here, and then we can put stop these game s and
manipulations, and then...and then..what?"
* * * *
river river River winding like a snake too phallic not appropriate
after all it's a river valley river surrounded by grasses no
definitely not phallic despite its windings like the Norse world-river
and ouroboros its tail caught in its mouth where is the mouth of this
River river?
this place this river this world this game ja das Weltspiel the world
game we must play here dreams and hypnosis reveal what? the mind of
the dreamer or the sender bender of the dreams or is that just a
neurotic thought perhaps we are alone here even if Gott did not bring
us back why should whoever did care what happens now perhaps they like
god left their creations recreations alone
but not alone companions friends strange as any other is always
strange certainly troubled megalomania hysteria paranoia neuroses
castration anxiety even I am not immune seeing symbols everywhere
enough to make my head hurt I wonder if Jung is here what he would
make of it Jung young again a gain loss cross how the christians cling
to their churches despite all
even here the unconscious still taunts deep below the surface
perhaps it too has caught its tail.
* * * *
Sitting alone, still in the pre-dawn chill, Josephine stared out over
the River. She shivered, wrapped her arms around herself and sunk
deeper into her own thoughts.
Watching the flow of the River, Josephine mused about the time since
the resurrection. The people she had met, who had disappeared. Always
one to make friends easily, the strange mixture of people and
circumstance had shaken the heretofore unwavering self-esteem of a
professional performer. Recalling her recent past actions, Josephine
nodded to herself, approving of her pro-active stance in the attack on
Temuchin's village, of learning to sail a boat and to speak a
smattering of Latin from Shaw.
She smiled softly and shook her head, murmuring to herself, "Almost 2
months and no sex. If my friends could see me now they'd think I were
a different person altogether." A frown marred her smooth brow as she
recalled her friends from her previous life. Indulging herself, she
allowed her thoughts to roam unbidden. A kaleidoscope of faces, people
held dear, loved and cherished swam before her eyes. Lovers, friends,
adopted children.... all pictured as clearly as the day she died on
earth.
In the background she could hear the villagers stirring. Rising with a
dancer's grace she brushed the debris from her body, sparing a smile
and firming her resolve to find out if her sexual prowess from earth
had lasted into this life....
* * * *
Following dinner, Charles wandered around the small church. In his
mind's eye he saw images of stone walls and other churches from days
before... days before this life?
Was this truly the afterlife? This was not what what he had envisioned
Heaven to be, certainly not. But this was not what he had learned
purgatory to be, either. Thinking to himself, "Perhaps God needs me
here. This group has come together for some greater purpose, and it
appears that they have chosen me to be their leader. For once again,
in God's plan and in service to him, it is my humble task to lead the
people around me. These good people have conscience, and give
straight council. They serve to guide me and all of us on this
quest... This quest? What is this quest?"
Charles walked slowly outside of the church looking at the new land
around him, still thinking to himself. "We have seen things that are
beyond our ken. People disappearing, people returning from the dead,
large stones shooting fire and creating food and drink. A metal scythe
forged with new technique. All of this place is passing strange, but
strangest of all, is that we have little control over our actions. We
are pieces on a board of the Chess game. The leaders of this place,
be they human or demon, pull the strings of us, as if we were puppets.
At the highest level then, our quest should be to regain control of
our actions. For it is free will that God granted man and woman, in
the garden of paradise. If man chooses to follow the will of God,
that is a choice. we must regain that choice. Along the way, we
should right the wrongs that we see occurring, and try to use what we
have learned from the past life, to make this a better one.
Civilization will bring order from this chaos. Perhaps that too, is
part of our quest.
* * * *
...surely there must be some reason for all that happens, and knowing
that reason, all that has happened will make sense. The Lord would hardly
make His heaven less subject to reason than His earth was, at least not if
men like me are to be in it. Or is this purgatory after all, is Charles
right? Would there be churches with bamboo crosses in heaven? Or in
purgatory, for that matter? Yet what else could it be?
Set that aside; it matters not. If reason fails me, I have nothing else,
so I must assume reason will not fail. If The Lord intended for us to act
differently, by different rules, in this place, He would surely have told
us so. So we must live here as we would in previous lives, and use our
reason to puzzle out the nature of this place. He could hardly expect us
to act otherwise without some direction.
How might we find that puzzle's answer? If we set ourselves to search for
it, we will almost certainly never find it. For everything else we have
ever set ourselves to find in this world, we have never found, but instead
we have found other things for which we have not sought. No, that's not
true; we found this church, and Father Gregory. I only hope that he will
heal Jeanne's spirit; if not, perhaps even this will not be what we sought.
Or maybe we go about our search for the metalworkers wrongly; rather than
marching and sailing and searching for smoke and trees, should we simply be
praying for it? There seems no harm in trying, especially here in God's
house. Must remember to pray for guidance in finding it, before I sleep
this night.
If we all are infested with demonic possession, or if the powers that
manipulate us are evil and must be exorcised, as Jeanne fears, then do we
know that Father Gregory is not also a tool of the same powers? No, I must
not say this aloud. The peace she had in her heart after confession is
already starting to wear thin, and I must not strain it. She deserves a
little peace. For her sake more than anyone else's, I wish this were
heaven, or if not, that we might find the way to it. Deborah, forgive
me... you would love her too, she is so like you in some ways, unwavering,
strong, yet she still searches for the inner balance that came so naturally
to you. Perhaps you could share a bit of it with her, from wherever you
rest.
Or are you here too?
Riverworld, Day 43, Night
* * * *
Benjamin sat down to think, his mind perhaps cleared and able to focus
better, here in the safety of a warm building, a church, the house of
God. But his thoughts were no less troubling and when he rose, it was
with a surprised and somewhat pained look which he struggled to
quickly cover with his usual affability.
Moving awkwardly to stand next to Jeanne, and waiting for her
attention to rise from the depths of her thoughts, Benjamin spoke,
quietly, but not so quietly that others could not overhear.
"Jeanne, it occurs to me that we have never found what we have sought
on the River before now. We seek the Forge and Industry that made the
Scythe of Temuchin but we grow no closer and are only confounded with
more Mysteries. We seek the Answers to those Questions and find only
more Questions. But this day, we have finally found exactly what we
sought -- after we prayed, together, for it."
"The Lord has always seemed more distant and removed from everyday
Affairs for me than He was for you in your earthly life. Perhaps that
was because you were called, perhaps it was because I simply didn't
see His Hands in my life. Either way, here in this Place He takes an
active role; he guided us to this Church, or this Church to us.
Perhaps you and I should pray again for guidance, to the Answers, or
to the Forge, or both? What say you?"
Jeanne roused herself from her troubled thoughts as Benjamin
approached her. She eyed him warily as he went through his preamble,
and found herself surprised by his request.
Perhaps, she thought, Father Gregory is right and I have judged him
too harshly.
Clearing her surprise from her face quickly, Jeanne agreed. "I will
pray with you, Benjamin." She even offered a smile, adding, "I am
glad to see that you have felt the touch of God in your life here,
even if you did not in your life Before. Prayer can be a powerful
force. Come, let us gather the others."
Jeanne sought out Charles first. "It does seem a miracle that we
found this place, does it not? I hope you find it as cleansing and
uplifting as I have. Even Benjamin has turned to God in this place. He
has offered to lead us in a prayer for guidance; will you join your
voice to ours?"
Charles agreed gladly. Josephine, however, frowned at the others,
and, with Shaw, wandered about the area. Freud also declined
apologetically. Benjamin found Father Gregory, and the small group of
Christians bowed their head in an impromptu service.
"I'll be honest," Josephine said to Shaw as they hiked back to the
village near the hills. "I don't see any reason to remain here any
longer."
She paused for a few seconds, then added, "And I'll be honest, I'm
getting bored."
"I agree," Shaw said, "Other than the origin of voice that told
Gregory of our arrival I cant see any reason for staying any longer."
Together they approached the villagers, but again they could find no
one with whom they could communicate.
When Josephine and Shaw returned, it was dark, and the prayers had
finished.
Josephine smiled too-brightly and asked too-loudly, "OK. Great. I'm
glad you've been saved but can we go?"
Realizing how rude she sounded, she offered a more genuine smile and
said in a semi-apologetic voice, "I'm sorry, but while you are finding
some kind of religious fulfillment I'm growing more than a little
bored. Can we _please_ do something besides pray to a god that may
not even exist?"
Shaw smiled and quietly murmured, "Try leading a army of devout
Muslims one day, they pray five times a day you know.."
"It's dark already," Father Gregory said. "Perhaps you should
spend the night here, and then travel in the morning? And I have yet
to hear of the quest which brings you to my humble church.""
While the group considered his words, Shaw asked Father Gregory, "So
you were a Priest on Earth as well?"
Father Gregory smiled. "Yes, my son."
"Father," Benjamin began, "We were seeking a Church for a very
specific Purpose, and I wonder if you could help us. It has become
known to us that some of our very Thoughts are not our own; that
mysterious Powers unknown to us have guided us, making us believe we
ourselves made Plans and Decisions, when in truth those thoughts were
given to us in hidden Dreams. We have no way to know if these Powers
are of good or evil; Jeanne fears that we may be under the Influence
of Evil, and we have no way to gainsay that fear. Can you tell if we
may be possessed, and exorcise us if so?"
The priest looked surprised. "I have never known the possessed to ask
to be exorcised. None of you seem evil to me, however irreligious," he
added, with a friendly glance at Josephine.
"It is impossible not to question how we came to be here, through
whose actions." Father Gregory continued. "Some of the travelers who
pass this way believe it to be the work of God, some the Devil. Still
others have suggested to me that this is a work of an advanced
science, far beyond that of my day or theirs. Since this is not the
world that God promised, and since I can not know what science may
have learned to do, I hold the latter belief to be most probable."
Benjamin nodded in understanding. "We are also seeking the Forge or
Industry that created the metal Scythe borne once by Temuchin the
Slaver, and now, by our former companion, Shaka of the Zulu. It is my
Belief that this Scythe was made here, on the River, and was not a
product of the Grailstone; yet the Industry to work iron into such a
Weapon is not something we have seen anywhere in our Journeys. In
truth, I can scarcely credit that anyone could have built up such
Industry in the... ummm.... forty-three Days that we all seem to have
been here. Have you heard of any similar tales of Industry, or do you
have any other Knowledge that may assist us in finding the Source of
this Scythe?"
Father Gregory's face was filled with surprise again. "Truly, no. Your
story is unique, and fascinating."
"The question remains," Charles said, "Do we sail at night, or stay
here until morning?"
It was clear that Josephine and Shaw were ready to depart, and that
Jeanne seemed to prefer to stay.
* * * *
Shaka shook his head to clear it, then again looked at the group of
blue-faced men that his men were surrounding. Waiting until his men
are in position, he paused, then said to those with him, first in
Zulu, then in English, "I will approach them, and tell them who I am
sent by. If they know anything of the whereabouts of the metal, we
shall speak further, if not, be ready to attack."
Shaka stepped forward into the midst of the men. On closer inspection,
he could see that the blue faces were painted on. "I am Shaka Zulu,"
he announced, "and I come to you as an emissary of the gods of this
place! I bear a scythe made of metal, and I am well and truly its
master. I have to rule over the source of this metal. Are you its
guardians?"
The people turned to face Shaka, apparently unsurprised by his sudden
experience. One of them, a man with a short but stocky build, came
forward and spoke.
"Speak little English," the man said, "Understand you see God, want
metal. Will show."
The man ushered Shaka and the Zulu party behind him toward a dark
hole, about 3 feet across, in the ground near the foot of the
hills. He pointed into the hole. "Iron mine."
Louis and Sly looked on, shocked, as Pala grabbed the scythe and four
of the Zulu behind Shaka took his arms and flung him into the hole.
Shaka found himself at the bottom of a ten-foot deep pit.
Louis turned, and discovered the blue men surrounding him and Sly,
their own spears pointing toward the lazaris' bellies. Mandragola
lashed out with his spear, and one of the men stabbed him. Louis knelt
down to examine Mandragola, but soon stood again, his face white with
rage. The man was dead.
Riverworld, Day 43, Night
* * * *
Benjamin almost spoke when Jeanne commented about feeling the touch of
God in his life, but didn't interrupt, and thought better of it by the
time he had a chance. So, too, did he hold his tongue when Jeanne
announced to Charles that he had 'turned to God' and 'offered to lead
us in a prayer', but privately, he rolled his eyes a bit and winced.
And winced all the more at Josephine's reaction. But he had struggled
to do the best job he could at leading a prayer, uncomfortable as he
was with the task.
Josephine's sarcastic comment after the prayer only left Benjamin even
more uncomfortable. Still, he had worked to regain his composure
enough to ask his questions of Father Gregory. After the entirely
unsatisfactory and unilluminating series of answers, he was heard to
mutter wryly under his breath, out of Father Gregory's hearing, "I
spoke too soon; we have not found what we sought here at all."
Finally, Benjamin looked back and forth between Jeanne and the door of
the church a few times, then said, "Methinks we should press on. Time
flows northward along with the River and so must we."
Jeanne, unsurprisingly, did not wish to press on that night. "Will
this Industry you seek disappear overnight?"
"Perhaps." Benjamin replied. "It may already have disappeared. More
likely, Shaka, or his Lion God, may have already reached it."
Jeanne continued as if she had not heard him. "What harm would it be
to stay one night in a place of refuge before continuing our journey?
Very little harm, for I believe 'dying of boredom' is simply an
expression and not an actual malady." She cast a pointed look at
Josephine. "But it might do our souls good to stay even one night in
the Lord's house."
She reached out and touched Josephine's arm, murmuring to the other
woman.
"Truly, there is nothing to fear here. God loves all His children,
saint and sinner alike."
Ehrich nodded. "A change of pace will do us good. Some of us may
find spiritual rest as well. Whether or not we all can make use of
such rest, some of us will. And having one's companions fit is of
benefit to all. It will not hurt to spend the night here rather than
on a boat, and we can be off in the morning."
Charles looked about at his companions. "I think it is safe to stay
here, over the night. We still have yet to learn much from the
villagers here. We should question them about the lands around here.
Father Gregory seems to be tied to his abbey, and to travel little.
News travels slowest to the stationary."
"The villagers don't speak any language I can recognize," Shaw
reported. "We've gotten precious little from them."
"I think it best that we stay here tonight," Charles continued, "and
set off in the morning, after the Grailstone has discharged the meal.
We should find the fifth Grailstone to meet with Shaka and his people
tomorrow."
"You must know that Religion was an important part of my .. umm ,
previous life. It is ... Comforting,.... to slip into this mode. It
fulfills part of my needs..." He smiled and returned to the church
for a short evening Prayer.
With a sigh, Josephine shook her head slightly, muttering softly to Shaw.
"The crutch of religion has managed to find it's way here, too, I see."
Shaw shrugged in return. "Leave now or in the morning, it really
makes no difference and long as we get moving soon."
Taking a moment to look at each person, Josephine spoke in a melodic
voice. "I think we each need to look at what is really happening. Is
this really just a convenience of sleeping here or it is perhaps a
fear of facing what is to come? If religion fortifies your soul and
allows you to move ahead with your goals, more power to it. If it
encourages you to retreat from the world and hide from tomorrow...."
She looks pointedly at those who argue to stay for more than comfort's
sake. She shrugs slightly, her meaning apparent in her tone of voice.
Pausing semi-dramatically for a long moment, she then adds, "I'm
sleeping on the boat tonight. Whether you all are with me or not."
She gave a long look to Shaw and turned to the Riverbank. While the
others made themselves comfortable in the Church, she and Shaw boarded
the boat.
Despite the well-regulated sameness of some aspects of the Riverworld,
morning in the Valley was as variable as the inhabitants. Some
mornings began slowly, stretching sullenly into noon. Others seemed
to pass almost too quickly, the sun rapidly rising to its zenith. That
morning fell somewhere in between; neither creeping nor bounding, the
sun emerged in an ordered and stately fashion.
As the grailstones fired, the group gathered for breakfast with Father
Gregory.
"So," Shaw began, addressing the priest, "what of this voice you
mentioned, the one that told you we were coming, did it tell you
anything else?"
Father Gregory nodded. "The voice said that I should await your
coming, and then take leave of my church and travel with you until..."
He stopped, and smiled apologetically. "I can not reveal some of the
details. Until...it is time for me to stop traveling with you," he
concluded.
Jeanne looked very pleased. "It would ease my mind greatly to have
you near. We have been without guidance too long, Father."
"Do you think this voice was belonged to god," Shaw asked, "or
possibly something else?"
"I do not know; God has never spoken to me directly before. He has
only manifested through his actions in the world."
"Very interesting," Shaw agreed.
Josephine looked skeptical, but the group boarded the boat and
launched it into the water, setting course for what would be the fifth
grailstone on the opposite side of the River. As noon neared and they
approached, two boats moved heavily in the water from the other bank
to intercept them. The men in the boats, their faces painted blue,
shouted angrily at them, warning them away from the grailstone. Shaw
suggested that they might be Celts. "Fierce fighters," he added.
* * * *
Louis' eyes narrowed as he fought to control the violence that threatened
to come raging out of him.
"What is the meaning of this Pala?" he shouted. "Your treachery will
accomplish you nothing!"
Pala shook his head, not comprehending the Frenchman's speech. He
pointed to Shaka and made a fierce-looking face, then lifted up a
twig. He used the twig to indicate Shaka, and then held up four
branches. One he pointed at Louis, one at Sly, one at
Mandragola's body, and, holding the last, he pulled back the skin at
the corners of his eye. Then he dropped the last stick, and shook his
head, and made the fierce face again.
Pala signaled the Zulu who encircled the two. They opened up their
circle into a pair of lines, one end open at the pit, the other away
from it. Pala pointed with the scythe in each direction, and waited
for the Louis and Sly to decide.
Louis shook his head with disgust. "You honorless coward," he hissed.
He turned to Sly. "Do not do anything stupid or brash."
Sly seemed to be aroused out of his haze slightly as he watched the
events with bemusement; this turned into shock as he was addressed by
Louis. He turned to Louis and spat his dreamgum in his direction.
"F*** you, bugger!"
He bolted and ran towards the hole, swinging his fists wildly. With a
loud, mad shout, he leapt into the 'iron mine' after Shaka. Louis
sighed and, more carefully, joined the two in the pit.
* * * *
The pit, 3 feet across, was an uncomfortable fit for the three men. It
was only about 15 feet deep, but the movement of the shadows overhead
suggested that they were being watched, and escape would be
difficult.
By the time the morning grailstone had fired and the sun was high in
the sky, each man had had ample opportunity to memorize the oaths of
the others.
Riverworld, Day 44, Noon
* * * *
"I wonder if Shaka's Fellowship can reach the Grailstone from land?"
Benjamin mused aloud. "I wonder if they already have?"
After a look at the men and the shore convinced him that Shaka was not
to be seen, he suggested to Charles that the boat land at the next
grailstone upRiver in hopes of meeting Shaka farther on.
"I think we should keep near the far side of the river," Ehrich
suggested, "and make land just opposite these Celts. Then we can
observe them and see what happens."
Charles shook his head. "I don't think it necessary to stop and
observe these barbarians. Let us press on in our Holy Quest. We'll
land one stone upRiver."
Raising his voice, he added, "Prepare to defend ourselves as best
possible. Two people should help ready arrows for the archers, the
rest prepare for boarding. I'd rather sail around them, but we must
be ready for a fight. Shaw, is there anything else we can do to avoid
these heathens?"
Shaw flung his bow at the others and ran to man the sails, shouting,
"Someone find a way to get some fires going, we can throw it at them
if they get close enough to board."
Jeanne observed the oddly painted men with trepidation. "They seem
very horrible" she conceded. She took up her bow and arrow, and
positioned herself to defend the boat if necessary. She muttered in
passing to Josephine, "I do hope you're no longer bored." The other
woman scowled. At Jeanne's motion, Father Gregory knelt beside her,
readying her arrows. Josephine, with Shaw's bow, and Freud, looking
rather more grim than usual, formed the second archery team.
But as Shaw tacked away from the blue-faced men, they seemed content
to allow him to sail upRiver, so long as the boat did not approach their
grailstone. They reached the next grailstone in time for the noon
firing, and considered their options over lunch. Shaka was due to
meet them at the Celts' grailstone today, but the warriors might make
any reunion more difficult.
They were not long discussing when two Zulu warriors emerged from the
hills. Charles surprised them with his rudimentary Zulu and they
managed a brief conversation.
"Shaka led us against blue men; big fight, many died - Shaka, the
white men dead. Shaka tell us hide, wait for you, give message.
Birthplace-of-hard-weapon is 10 stones north."
* * * *
Shaka lay at the bottom of the pit, shocked and unable to move. For
a long moment he was very still, then his fingers clenched and his
arms began to shake. As he stood he screamed in Zulu.
"Pala! Pala! You traitorous son of a dog! What is going on here?
How can you dare to this! I am your king, or you are no Zulu!"
Shaka stopped, and seemed to begin to gain control of his emotions,
and then just as soon as the control started, he lost it again. With
a loud cry he grasped some dirt in his fists and hurled it upward with
all his might and shouted again.
"You will release me now! Or your torment shall know no end! The
children of this world shall forever know your name as that of a
traitor who lived in eternal torment for his betrayal!"
Realizing that Pala was gone, he sat back down, and mumbled under his
breath.
Sly looked at the walls of the pit and cut loose a string of curses
that would make a sailor blush. Eventually the volley tapered off, and
he said, "Bloody hell! What koind of moin is this? Ain't no exits! In
all the funny pictures, they'se a little train car to roid away in!"
Louis rubbed his sides, where Sly's elbow had managed to jab him as he
had fallen into the pit, probably deliberately. He laughed. He threw
his head back and really cut loose with a mirthful, deep laugh. When
he recovered, he looked at Shaka, then at Sly, who was seething at
him. "Sly, your rage is misplaced. I am not your enemy."
He turned to Shaka. "Do you know what the meaning of this is, Shaka?
If this some Zulu tradition or custom? And people say the French are
bizarre...." Louis chuckled some more and looked up at the top of the
hole, then at the sides of this narrow pit.
Shaka stopped cursing. "There is no other way," he said. "I must take
the path of the Lion God again. Louis, Sly, I want you to kill me. I
shall again defy death, and awaken nearby. I will then kill Pala with
my bare hands and make him pay for this treachery."
Shaka knelt before them. "Do it now that I may return swiftly and
free you."
"You're a bleedin' crazy bugger," Sly said.
Louis turned and studied Sly for a moment, then stood behind Shaka and
asked him to relax his neck. With a sudden application of strength, he
snapped Shaka's spinal cord.
"Good luck my friend," Louis says, sotto voce before turning warily to
regard Sly.
* * * *
To Shaka's surprise, he awoke at the noon grailstone firing without
another contact with his Lion God. He blinked his eyes at the sun, and
sat up. Around him was a medium-sized village, which was populated by
bronze-skinned men and women who wore their towels as pants, dresses,
and turbans. Many of the women had wooden spheres somehow pinned to
their left nostrils, and others had a red dot in the center of their
foreheads. A group of the men, wearing knives at their belts, came to
see who he was. They seemed cautious, but not unfriendly, though they
did not speak English or the tongue of his homeland.
Riverworld, Day 44, Afternoon
* * * *
Louis laid Shaka's body out as best he could in the cramped space of
the "iron mine." He slumped against the wall, and slid to the floor,
dirt scraping its way up his spine. It hurt but it felt good,
comforting. He sighed, exasperated.
What a terrible, odd existence this is, Louis mused. If I believed in
Hell, this place would surely fit the mold.
Sly sneered at Louis. "Stuck in here with you eh mate? No wonder 'e
checked out. I'm next 'en."
He began slamming his head into the wall of the pit. Louis grabbed him
to stop him, but Sly flung himself harder, and dropped to the ground,
unconscious. Louis felt the man's pulse. Still alive.
The commotion attracted the Zulu above, and soon Pala's face frowned
down upon them. When he saw the bodies of Shaka and Sly, he smiled and
nodded approvingly. He pointed to Louis and spoke for a while. He
brought over another Zulu, to whom he gave a spear. The other Zulu
saluted Pala with the spear, and knelt before him. Then Pala held out
the spear toward Louis in the same fashion, and looked at him
inquiringly.
* * * *
Benjamin was only dumbfounded for a moment. "Shaka dead? But who
will be the Black King?"
"Shaka can still be the chess king," Ehrich replied. "He's just going
to wake up naked next to a grailstone somewhere. For all we know, we
may see him first thing tomorrow morning. After all, weren't a big
lot of you resurrected all together in an unusual location? If so,
those pulling our puppet strings may deem it amusing to keep Shaka in
the game and control what grailstone he wakes up at."
Benjamin nodded. "Yes, of course. After four and eighty Years in
which Death overshadowed everything by its Permanence, I fear it will
take me more than four and forty Days to learn that it no longer does,
or is."
"However," Freud said, "there seem to be puppeteers arrayed against us
as well as with us."
Benjamin turned to Charles. "Are they sure all of Shaka's Companions
are dead as well? Perhaps some are merely wounded, or captured, and
in need of our Assistance. Ask them if they know how Shaka learned of
the location of the Forge, if you would."
Slightly frustrated at having to rely on someone else for translation,
Benjamin determined to learn some Zulu as well at the next
opportunity.
"Yes," Shaw added, "and we should also find out what has happened to
the scythe, and take it back if possible. We should send one or two
people to spy on these Celts and see what kind of opposition we would
face once we have learned all we can from these two." He indicated the
Zulu.
Josephine signaled Shaw with her eyes, and pulled him aside to
whisper.
"If Shaka knew where the Scythe was made, would he have sent so many
men to await us? I think perhaps we should be wary."
She reached out and touched Shaw's arm softly, smiling at him.
Charles faced the Zulu and spoke a few words of Zulu and made some
motions with his hands. They replied quickly, and Charles asked them
to repeat themselves, which they did, with growing frustration.
"They say that all are dead but them, and they plan to return to fight
and die against the Celts now that they've given us the message. Shaka
apparently learned of the forge from spies and dreams. They do not
know what became of the scythe, but it's reasonable to assume that the
Celts have captured it."
"How did Shaka die?" Jeanne asked Charles to ask the Zulus. "And did our
other sometime companions meet the same fate?"
"All in battle, it seems," Charles replied after briefly conferring
with the Zulu.
"Our band originally had twice this number," Jeanne explained to
Father Gregory. "Half chose to travel on foot, and half by water. We
had prearranged to meet again, though it seems now that this is
impossible."
She frowned, and continued, "Shaka did die once before, however. And
rose the next day. It may be that he will be risen up yet again."
She looked vaguely disturbed at the prospect.
"What bothers me most" Charles said, "is that a man such as Shaka was
only afraid of one thing in life, and that was the end of it. Now,
here, even that possibility is gone, and Shaka has nothing to fear.
That fact alone can make a man mad."
Turning to Shaw, Charles said, "I'm not sure if we need to spy on
these 'Celts', They are many and control this stone. If all our
friends are gone on to another life, then it will do us no good to
examine the Celts' force.
"I am concerned about this information. In a tactical sense, it seems
that we are being led away from where we want to be. I seek some evidence
that the metal forging place is 10 stones up river, before wasting the
time chasing like a fool. If we trust the Zulu, however, we might be
able to convince them to join us instead of waste themselves against
the Celts."
"True, perhaps Shaka is trying to lead us away from here." Shaw
replied, smiling. "You are probably right about spying, assuming that
what we are hearing is true, but I would rather trust my own eyes,
than the dying words of a man who may or may not still be our friend."
Riverworld, Day 44, Evening
* * * *
"Yes, it is possible Shaka lied to misdirect us," Ehrich said. "But
from the limited time I knew him, he does not seem to be the type to
use such misdirection. To me he seems more like the type to relish a
direct confrontation. You have known him much more than the single
day that I have, am I wrong?"
Josephine stood back from the rest of the group discussing the news
delivered by the Zulu, watching with interest. Her eyes scanned over
her traveling companions contemplatively, lingering for a long moment
on Shaw before returning to the Zulu. Her trained eyes focused on
their body language, but saw no sign of uncertainty or potential
violence.
Smiling sweetly, she tapped Shaw's arm and pulled him aside, turning
her back on the Zulus and speaking very softly, her lips nearly
motionless.
"If the Zulu could understand English, isn't all of this discussion
depicting a group of uncertain, disjointed people?"
Shaw locked eyes with Josephine for a moment and gives her a barely
perceptible nod.
While Charles spoke on the possibility that Shaka might intentionally
mislead the group, Benjamin's eyes had scanned the horizon downRiver
for signs of smoke, for stands of trees cut down, for debris in the
River flushed from refining or mining, or other signs that the forge
might be here, not ten grails upRiver. He saw nothing out of the
ordinary, if anything on Riverworld could be counted as ordinary.
"I do not see any Need for spying," he said to Charles. "especially
not if it might put us into Conflict with these fell Warriors. Why
would Shaka send us on a Fool's Errand upRiver? Perhaps to keep us
from finding something here, but there are no signs of the Forge here,
and I know not what else might be of enough interest. And I see no
quicker way to achieve Confirmation than to sail upRiver; we can be
there within three or four Days at most, possibly less."
"Yes, three or four days sounds about right," Shaw responded slowly,
"but what about the scythe? Are we going to just leave it here?"
Ehrich nodded. "Yes, leaving behind the scythe could be a mistake. It
undoubtedly could be used as a symbol just by itself, perhaps
encouraging these Celts to war. Or someone might follow the same path
we are on and search for the source of the metal. Perhaps even the
scythe itself was responsible for Shaka's dreams, which seem much more
clear in intent than any of our dreams."
"You are right, Ehrich," Charles said. "Shaka is not a person who
would use subterfuge and deceit to mislead us. Unless he is being
controlled by another person. I agree with you all, let us set out to
10 stones upriver, in search of the forge of metal."
He looked over at Shaw. "Shaw, I think we should first examine the
grailstones. If Shaka was killed by these barbarians Downriver of us,
then we would lose many in a battle. I think we should find the
source of metal to the north, and if not, we can return here, and
decide our next plan."
He addressed the warriors in Zulu. "Shaka great warrior, you great
warriors. Find honor in battle. Seek glory. If Find great Metal
blade. Meet us Here in 10 days, or Come north 10 Stones. Go now in
honor. I honor you." Charles bowed a little toward the Zulu, and
turned back to his friends as the Zulu left the camp, returning to the
hills as the sun set.
"Let us gather our things and be gone -- we have a quest to follow,"
Charles concluded. He hefted his grail and other possessions and walked
back towards the boat.
They boarded the boat, and Shaw saw them safely into the River and
headed north into the looming darkness. He whispered to Josephine
before turning the tiller over to her.
"I think you were quite close to the truth back there," Shaw said
quietly. "I nearly burst trying to keep a straight face."
He went down to the cabin of the boat, leaving Josephine at the helm.
Finally, Shaw thought, I have a chance to consult my visions again. He
took out one of his cubes of dreamgum and chewed furiously until he
fell into a stupor.
The boat sailed upRiver through the night, and the morning, the
travelers relying on their stores of dried fish and non-perishable
grail food. Before the noon grail firing, they had traveled eight
grailstones north, and found themselves faced with civilizations on
either bank. To the west, a group of muscular Caucasian men and women
had built a harbor and sailboats; to the east, a leaner group of
Asians had constructed piers and sampans. Most unusually, each small
town seemed to be engaged in building pedal-powered go-carts from the
ubiquitous bamboo and the less common wood.
Before the group had time to make sense of the behavior, or to decide
at which bank to put in to refill their grails, Freud called out from
the cabin. "Get down here and help me with Shaw!"
The others pressed into the small space. Josephine, fleetest of foot
and most worried, was at Freud's side first. Freud was shaking
Shaw. "I can't seem to wake him up," Freud said.
"Try this," Josephine replied, pouring a cup of water onto Shaw's
face. Shaw awoke, spluttering. "It's okay," he explained, looking over
at their faces. "I've always been a deep sleeper, and now and then I
have trouble waking up."
Shaw kept his private thoughts to himself, however. He could not
remember the dreamgum visions, but he knew that they had been true,
and important -- and that someone was interfering with them, someone
on the boat. As his eyes passed over the others, his mind furiously
cataloged them. Charles had not seemed concerned over his condition;
Freud's shaking or Josephine's water might have disturbed the visions;
Jeanne had been friendly, but both she was in Father Gregory's sway;
Ehrich was mysterious, almost a nonentity, but could be hiding
something. Shaw knew that the time was coming when he would have to
act to protect his visions, so his visions would protect him.
* * * *
Louis looked up at Pala, at the spear, and allowed the smallest of smiles
to arch his lips. He held up his right hand, and grasped the
spear. Pala, his muscles straining, pulled Louis up from the pit.
Pala directed him toward the hut of another Zulu man, Moz, where there
was an extra pile of grass which served as a bed. Louis slept
fitfully, but awakened feeling refreshed.
He learned the routine of the camp the next day. The morning before
the firing of the grailstone was spent practicing with spear and
body shield. After breakfast, while others worked on building a wall
to protect the village, Moz began to give him lessons in Zulu, showing
him the words for simple objects and actions.
"Pala not hate you," Moz explained slowly, "but Shaka bad
ruti. Shaka's friends, like yellow man, go away. Bad ruti."
In the afternoon, Zulus and Celts streamed in and out of a larger hut
at the center of the encampment, but Moz didn't take Louis
in. Otherwise, the two peoples seemed to keep to themselves, Louis
noticed.
* * * *
Shaka shook his head in puzzlement at the people confronting him.
Again and again he tried speaking to them in every language he knew.
"I look for Pala, of the Zulu. He has betrayed me and must pay!"
Unable to make himself understood, Shaka growled in frustration. The
people seemed to understand his annoyance, and, after showing him to
their grail, sat before him and ate their noon meal while Shaka began
a pantomime.
Shaka drew in the dirt, making pictures of his metal scythe, using the
metal of the grails to bring his point home. Then he drew the men
with blue faces using the blue of a towel to indicate the color of
their faces. The villagers were confused, but one, seeing the blue
faces, nodded and indicated for Shaka to stay and wait until the
morning.