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!"

			      *  *  *  *