MacKinnie stared at the small party. The two leaders were both tall and dark, looking nothing like the locals MacKinnie had seen. Their guards, by contrast, were all obviously natives, probably hired swordsmen.

“Come aboard, please,” MacKinnie said. “May we make your guards comfortable with wine and something to eat?”

“Thank you.”

MacKinnie nodded to Todd, sending him scurrying below to find Hal and arrange for refreshments for the guards. The two star men were helped aboard and led to the owner’s cabin below. When they were seated and wine brought, they introduced themselves.

“I am Father Deluca, and this is His Lordship Auxiliary Bishop Laraine. We are representatives of His Eminence the Archbishop Casteliano, Missionary ruler of the Church on this forsaken planet. It is a miracle you have found us.”

“I do not understand, Your Reverence,” Nathan said. “Surely you have means to call the Navy whenever you wish?”

“No, my son,” Bishop Laraine said sadly. “The barbarians have destroyed our transmitter. Brother LeMoyne might have repaired it had they not been so thorough, but in fact we were fortunate to escape with our lives. Two other members of our mission, a brother and a priest, were not so favored, God rest their souls. We made our way to this city, and here we stay, besieged by barbarians, with little gold, no communicator, and afraid even to allow these heathen to know our true mission. They burn heretics here, and they believe us to be such. Not that martyrdom is so frightening, but it would hardly accomplish anything for the faith under the circumstances.”

“I would not contradict His Reverence,” Deluca said, “but in reality these are not heathen. They believe all of the doctrines of the Church except submission to the authority of New Rome. But they also believe they have a divine inspiration, holy relics, enclosed in that Temple of theirs, and that God speaks to them from their Temple. They even have records showing that their bishops have a direct continuity with the first bishops of Makassar. I believe New Rome might rule that they could be accepted in the Church without new ordinations would their hierarchy only submit to authority.”

The bishop shook his head sadly. “What Father Deluca says is true enough, but there is no way to dispel them of their illusions. They truly believe these artifacts of theirs contain Holy Writ, which no doubt they do, there being copies of the Bible in the library, I am sure, but they believe their Temple to be a source of continuing and everlasting revelation.”

“I see,” MacKinnie told them. He drained his glass while he pondered what to tell them. Nathan had no experience at lying to the clergy, his contacts with the priestly orders being limited to one or another of the many varieties of military chaplains who had served with him, and he was vaguely disturbed. He decided on a compromise. “I don’t like to tell you this, Your Reverence, but only part of your problems have been solved by our arrival. We have no transmitter either.” He used the unfamiliar word cautiously, but no one responded. “We do have gold and we can make your stay here more secure, but it will be some time before we can get you back to Jikar. The storm season is coming on, and my native shipmaster tells me there is no way to sail westward during that part of the year. We ran before one westerly gale coming in here, and the seas were dreadful. I am told they get worse.”

Laraine showed no emotion at the words, but Father Deluca half rose from his seat, only to strike his head on the low deck beams above him. He sat down with tears in his eyes, as much from disappointment as the blow. “Then we must stay here in this awful place for another year.” He sighed heavily.

“As God wills,” Laraine said sharply. “Your offer of money is generous, my lord. His Eminence will be pleased. Will you come with us to tell him?”

“They tell me I should wait until the Temple people come to inspect my cargo,” Nathan answered. “After that, I will be honored to meet His Eminence. What does the local priesthood think you are?”

“Merchants despoiled by the barbarians,” Deluca answered. “We thought of fleeing to the nomads and trying to win converts among them, but there are few of us, and the barbarians never listen before they kill. Even the Temple has ceased to send missionaries among them. His Eminence ordered us to remain with him until we were sure there was no chance to win over the Temple hierarchy before sacrificing ourselves.”

Nathan nodded and filled the wineglasses again. It was, he thought, as well that they had lost the device they used to communicate with the Navy. If they hadn’t, he would have had to destroy it himself. The Navy must not be reminded of the library at the same time they thought of Prince Samual’s World. But perhaps these Imperials would be useful. At least he might learn something from them. “You have had no success at convincing the Temple people that their holy relics are nothing more than leftovers from the Old Empire?” he asked.

Deluca shook his head. “We brought Brother LeMoyne, who is both a librarian and trained in physics, hoping to show them, but they will not let us near their sacred relics. No one but the priesthood can touch them. And we, the representatives of the True Church, are turned away like Philistines.”

The bishop smiled. “There is a certain, ah, humor, in the situation, my lord. That we are turned away from the center of this planet’s religion. Or what was once their center, because their authority is fast going. I think now it would have been better had we worked in Jikar first, but of course we couldn’t know that.”

Hal knocked at the doorway. “Sir, those deacon people are here to examine the cargo. They say they want to talk to the master of the ship, and also the owner. There’s fees to pay for using the harbor, and they want to buy all our food and wine.”

Nathan stood, stooping carefully to avoid the deck beams. He had learned that after several painful experiences during the voyage. “If you will excuse me, I will speak to the Temple representatives,” he told them. “Please feel free to enjoy any of the facilities or refreshments. Your Excellency,” he added, bowing.

“Drive a hard bargain with them,” the bishop growled. He waved dismissal.

There were three of the robed Temple deacons on deck. There were also two uniformed guard officers, while a rank of ten swordsmen stood at rigid attention on the pier below. The guard uniforms were blue and crimson with silver decorations, the officers’ hats plumed, and the sergeant of guards carried a gold-headed baton. The discipline of the men, and their weapons, made MacKinnie realize that the Temple commanded a trained fighting force. Or at least they could obey orders. He wondered why, with their discipline, they had not destroyed the barbarians. Too rigid in their tactics, he thought, remembering Vanjynk and the battle on the tide sands.

One of the officers stepped forward from the group around Captain MacLean and Loholo. “Are you the owner of this vessel?” he demanded.

MacKinnie nodded. The officer continued, “I present you to His Excellency, Sindabaya, Junior Archdeacon of the Temple of Truth.”

“Peace and greetings,” one of the gray-robed men said. “It is customary to bow to me when receiving blessings, Trader. Are you ignorant of the proper forms, or merely a heathen?”

“Your pardon, Excellency,” MacKinnie protested. “My thoughts were on the plight of our civilization, and not the more important things at hand.” He bowed, receiving another blessing for his trouble.

“It is well. We have not seen you in Batav before, Trader, and when we last saw your shipmaster he had his own ship. Why is this?”

“Pirates, Your Excellency. In all Jikar, there are few merchant ships remaining, and few merchants to buy them, because the army of Jikar takes all the goods for the great expedition. They intend to fight their way through the barbarians before sending the fleet to destroy the nests of pirates.”