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.

			      *  *  *  *