Riverworld Day 43, Evening

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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.

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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.