High above the harbor stood a chalk-white building, flying the banners of the Temple, great red and blue crosses on a field of black, with a stylized portrayal of the Temple itself at the fly. The old Imperial Library had been built of native granite, and had formed a part of the Vice-regal Palace. Gargoyles and cherubim were carved in stately rows around its cornice, while Corinthian columns held the four porticos at the cardinal compass points. MacKinnie had seen nothing like it on Prince Samual’s World, and found the massive strength of the building impressive despite its ugliness.

“That’s the Temple,” Brett said quietly. He was standing on the opposite corner of the quarterdeck from MacKinnie, with Kleinst and Longway eagerly asking him about the city. “God Himself built it before the Fall, when we were all star men here, and He put all wisdom and knowledge in it. But the men of Makassar were proud, and said that since they had all knowledge, they didn’t need God. In wrath, He struck at the Temple — see, you can see on the side there where part of it was rebuilt. But before He could destroy it, the priests reminded Him of His promises to our people, and He spared the Temple, but took from us the knowledge of how to use the great wisdom in the Temple. Only the priests know, and they don’t know how to translate the words of the angels when they can make them speak at all.”

Brett sniffed loudly. “That’s what the Temple priests will tell you. There was a time when they had believers in every city, and their deacons and acolytes controlled whole duchies and kingdoms. In most places, the true Christians like those in Jikar were a little band forced to hold meetings in secret. But now the Temple people don’t control much more than Batav, and it’s their followers in other cities who meet in secret and fear for their lives. All that happened in two men’s lives, or so I am told.”

“But what would have caused such a rapid transformation of the religious values of a whole society?” Longway asked with interest. “My observation has been that such changes take a long time unless they come with technological changes. We experienced a comparable collapse of the established church on Prince Samual’s World, but gunpowder and discipline and money were more at the root of it than anything else.”

“Star man, I don’t know,” Brett answered. “But strange things have happened to us for many years. The summers are shorter, and the winters colder, and the plainsmen move to the coasts and attack the cities because there is less and less to feed them and their herds in the plains. The people say that God has turned His face from Makassar.”

“Ah,” Kleinst said. Everyone turned to look at the thin-faced scholar, who appeared nearly normal for the first time since going aboard the ship. “Of course. The orbit of Makassar is highly eccentric, and its axial tilt is also high. The two have produced reasonable weather in the Southern Hemisphere for generations, but now they are getting slowly out of phase with each other. The winters will be worse and worse here, until it is the northern part which is inhabitable. Naturally the barbarians flock toward the equator.”

“And of course as they move into the more temperate areas, they destroy the civilizations there,” Longway added. “But this often produces an internal strengthening of the ruling church. Yet I have heard of cases where when there was already schism, the eroding of the civilization would cause many to turn away from the churches, or look to new ones for salvation. Yes.” They stood silently for a moment and watched the guard ship take convicts aboard.

Mary Graham brought wine and chickeest. One of the guardsmen carried the heavy tray for her. During the voyage she had developed amazing skill at producing hot meals, even when the ship was running before gales which MacLean estimated to be over sixty kilometers an hour in strength. She had trained several of the young Makassar guards to assist her, and quickly became absolute mistress of the commissary department of Subao.

“Is that the Temple?” she asked, pointing to the huge structure dominating the city.

“Yes, my lady,” Brett answered. “Five hundred priests and deacons, and two thousand guards are all quartered in the cells carved in that building. Not that their army has done them any good against the plainsmen.”

“But what can the barbarians do against Temple guards?” Mary asked. “You tell me they have no equipment, and the Temple must be wealthy if it has so many soldiers.”

“They will not fight the way the Temple wishes,” Brett answered. “The plainsmen run before the heavy-armored men, and when the Temple horses tire, the chiefs bring their clans back with ropes and many of them ride around the iron men, lacing them to their steeds, pulling them to the ground. Or the plainsmen move aside and let the iron chargers thunder past, then attack from behind.”

“Mobility against heavy cavalry,” MacKinnie muttered. “And the Temple guards are drawn away from the walls so they have no place to rest and re-form their troops.” He nodded. “But, Academician, I am concerned about the Temple. Can the priests hold this city and their relics against the enemy?”

“Not for long,” Longway answered. “If my experience on South Continent is useful, the people of the city will be weary of the fighting, now that their church is no longer thought to be the voice of God. The priests will never be able to rally enough men to hold those walls if the enemy stays at the gates.”

MacKinnie nodded. “I’ve seen the will to fight collapse before. They become concerned with their comforts and neglect their lives, and soon they will lose both. We may have arrived at a critical time.”

“But how dreadful,” Mary said. “All these people. What will happen to them?”

Brett drew a long breath before he answered. “The men will be killed. The prettier of the women will be carried off and if they are fortunate will find places in the herds of one of the warriors. The youngest boys may be taken in by a clan to be raised as plainsmen. The rest, those who would not fight when the walls were taken, will die to amuse the women of the tribes.”

Mary shuddered. “Trader, is there nothing we can do here?” she asked MacKinnie.

“I would not weep for all of the city people, my lady, Brett said. “You have not seen what they do when they find a small band of plainsmen. Life is hard out there, and men do what they have to do.”

They were interrupted by Stark and two guardsmen who had been posted at the end of the pier. “Company coming, sir,” Hal said. “Not what I expected, not those deacons you told me to look out for. Civilians, I’d say.” He pointed to the end of the pier, where two obvious magnates approached. They were guarded by half a dozen well-armed me. “Should I turn out the guard, sir?”

“No, but get as many men as you have ready at the hatches and keep these here on deck. Then come back up when you get the troops posted. Quietly; I don’t want to start trouble if there’s none coming.” MacKinnie watched the group move slowly down the stone pier.

The leader of the group was tall and thin, like a cadaver. He raised his hand, palm toward MacKinnie. “Greetings,” he said. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

MacKinnie frowned. He knew what the man was saying, but — suddenly he realized what he had heard. Thestranger was speaking the Imperial language. “Are there any here who understand me?” He switched quickly to a local dialect. “Peace and greetings.”

“Welcome aboard,” MacKinnie answered in what he hoped was the Imperial speech. “And what may I do for Your Honor?”

The man turned to his companion and said something quickly, then looked to MacKinnie in obvious relief. “Thank the Savior, the Navy has come to find us. Our prayers have been answered. When we heard there was a ship from Jikar, we hardly dared hope.”