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From: [e-mail] (Alan Schwartz)
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives
Subject: STORY: Riverworld, Chapter 3: Outside and Inside
Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc
Date: 13 Oct 1995 10:52:21 -0400
Organization: University of California, Berkeley
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For more information, see:
    http://mellers1.psych.berkeley.edu/~alansz/rw-pbem/

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Riverworld Turn #3: Outside and Inside
Day 31


When Florence and Josephine returned from the River with Jeanne, it
still far from light, and as they tramped through the grasses back
toward the bamboo glade, the two older women comforted the younger.
When they returned and found the others missing, however, it was
Jeanne whose knowledge proved to be of much comfort to the others.

            *  *  *  *

Finding George dead was a shock to all three women. It was Florence
who first found words.

Florence: "Poor man. The tracks lead upstream, toward the walled city
       that Charles, Shaka, and I saw during our walk."

Josephine shuddered and whispered a quiet prayer. Then, with quiet
determination, she looked up, her eyes seemingly years older in a
moment. When she spoke, her voice was low and grim.

Josephine: "Of course.... Why was I lulled into security by the fact
        that there were men about?  During the war it was the
        women who had to support the men."

She smiled wryly, and sadly.

Josephine: "It seems that life on the river echoes life on earth."

Jeanne seemed to have recovered from her plunge into The River, and
began speaking excitedly.

Jeanne: "At last! Something to _do_!"

She stepped over to George's body and removed the arrow.
Apologetically, she explained.

Jeanne: "I do not mean to dishonor his body, but we have no
         weapons. It is small, but it is better than nothing. We
         should have made spears with the Moor. But its too late for
         that now."

Together, the women moves George's body out of the glade, and erected
a cairn of leaves and dirt over the body, and Jeanne murmured
a prayer for the deliverance of George's soul.

Jeanne: "May St. Catherine, St. Margaret, and St. Michael guide you to
         salvation. May the Lord grant you peace, and may the
         Perpetual Light shine upon you."

The other women murmured "amen", and Jeanne crossed herself.

Jeanne: "Now...we must rescue our companions!"

Florence: "I think we'd better stay put until morning, when we'll be
       better equipped to deal with whoever did this."

Jeanne turned to look at Josephine.

Josephine: "Well, I think we'd better stick together, and take
        Florence's advice for now."

Jeanne nodded, with some reluctance.

Florence took a burning stick from the fire and the women searched in
a 100 yard circle around the glade. They moved slowly, looking for
clues and fearing to find other members of their group in George's
state. They found neither, but Jeanne recovered four spears that Shaka
and Charles had fashioned earlier that day, and the women armed
themselves with them. They also found George's firestarter in the
grass, but his grail, like those of the others, was nowhere to be seen.

They concluded their search just as the nightly thunderstorm began to
rain water upon them, and the three huddled about the fire, spreading
a towel over their heads to protect themselves and the fire from the
splatter of the precipitation. After an hour the rain stopped, and
Josephine squared her shoulders and turned to Jeanne.

Josephine: "It is clear to me that you have much experience with
        weaponry.  I'm afraid that I cannot claim the same. Though
        perhaps you could share a bit of your knowledge?"

Jeanne nodded eagerly, and stood up to demonstrate.

Jeanne: "Throw, like so. Keep your elbow here, too far out and you
         will lose your power. It will take some practice. Or use like
         this, in close quarters."

She held the spear in both hands, jabbing as if with a polearm.

Jeanne: "Remember we only have these few spears, if you throw it, you
     may not be able to retrieve it."

She held the spear in front of her, horizontally, her hands 18" apart.

Jeanne: "The bamboo may not be strong enough for this, but if you lose
         your point you might also be able to use it as a staff."

She moved through the motions of an attack against an imagined foe.

Jeanne: "Cripple him and he will not be able to come after you, but he
     could still throw his spear or arrow. Dying may mean nothing
     to these people."

               *  *  *  *

Together they practiced with their spears until dawn. As she sparred
with them, Jeanne spoke under her breath incessantly. During a moment
of rest, Josephine asked her what she was saying.

Jeanne: "I give Glory to my God, for giving me renewed purpose. True,
     I do not know these people we woke with, and owe them
     nothing, but they are still children of God, even the Moor
     who speaks no civilized language. We must do what we can to
     help each other.  Who knows, perhaps this is to be my Work in
     this life. Perhaps the Moor will see the strength in me and
     behold the mystery of God working through me, and he will
     accept his salvation."

Josephine nodded thoughtfully.

During a later moment, when Jeanne had gone to relieve herself, and
Josephine was alone with Florence, she motioned silent toward Jeanne.

Josephine: "Florence...I think we're going to have to keep an eye on
        her."

In the morning, the three women stood at the foot of the trail of
flattened grass, and Jeanne pointed upRiver with her spear, suggesting
that they seek after the others.

                *  *  *  *

Shaka awoke groggily and rubbed his head.  He looked around and
frowned, but nodded at Glenn and Charles.  As a guard walked by he
looked through the bars at the man with undisguised anger and
hatred. His face betrayed a desire to shatter the bamboo and kill the
man with his bare hands.

Charles, observing Shaka, made calming motions with his hands, and
Shaka sat back on his heels and watched the man. Charles addressed
Tjar in a number of languages, none of which he seemed to
understand. Tjar, who had been pacing his cell and pulling at the
bamboo bars, spoke English in return. Even to those who could not
understand him, it was clear that he was swearing.

Tjar: "I can't speak one of those tongues. I always had translators
       for that sort of thing. Dammitall! Well, I shall try to learn
       them from now on!"

Charles thought he recognized the language, however, and turned
to Glenn, who seemed to be gazing at the landscape and humming.
After a number of attempts to catch the man's attention, Glenn finally
responded to Charles' insistent German.

Charles: "My twentieth-century companion, why are you so unconcerned
      about our plight?"

Glenn: "Because this is something I've always wanted...a chance to be
        imprisoned, to not have to deal with all the tiresome
        requirements of freedom...life would be better could I write
        more things down...but I don't need to. I'm at work on a
        fugue, actually...if you could leave me alone for another hour
        or so?"

Charles gaped angrily for a moment.

Charles: "When I'm far away, I'll be happy to leave you here, but just
      as you desire a life of prisonment, these men and I would
      prefer our freedom.  Can you understand this man?" He
      pointed to Tjar.

Glenn sighed and nodded.

Glenn: "He said we're in the land of Temuchin, and we're to be
        grail-slaves."

At Charles' continuing insistence, Glenn, sighing all the while, began
to translate for Charles and Tjar, while Shaka watched the
conversation.

Tjar: "Blast! These things have only been here a month... less! There must
       be a flaw, and with effort, we can find it!"

Charles: "Perhaps, though they seem strong enough to me. My name is
      Charles, by the way. These men are Glenn and Shaka."

Charles took hold of the bars of his cell, and pulled with all his
strength.  When he failed to have any effect on them, he motioned to
Shaka, who tried but likewise proved unable to move them.

Waving his hands in frustration, Shaka pointed to a guard, and
silently indicated his confidence that he could overpower the
man. Pointing to himself, he mimed a howl; indicating the guard again,
he made attacking motions. Pointing to the other men, he indicated the
other guards and made a shaking motion with his hands. Finally, he
traced out a spear in the air, and pretending to hold it, lunged out
toward the other guards with a look of bloodlust.  He repeated his
gestures several times before the guard's attention was once again on
the men.

Tjar watched Shaka with interest, head bobbing, and then turned to the
others and spoke.

Tjar: "I believe the savage is trying to say that he wants to try to
       escape!  I think that is a fine idea! And look at what a
       splendid specimen he is!  I'm certain he shall dispatch several
       of these scoundrels just as he seems to be boasting!"

Tjar: "Let's map out a plan!"

Tjar made large, exaggerated motions toward Shaka, pointing to himself
and to Shaka, and nodding at the latter's gestures. Charles, however,
shook his head and held up a hand, palm forward. He pointed to the sky
in the direction the sun would rise and spoke again.

Charles: "We should wait until sunrise. We will know more then, about
      our enemies and our own resources."

Tjar: "Blast it, man! What have we to lose? I for one will not remain
       a prisoner of these Bashi-bazooks a moment more than necessary!
       Are you with me?"

Charles: "I have no liking for slavery, and I will be with you when
      the time comes, but the time is not yet. We should rest."

It seemed to Shaka that Charles and Tjar were arguing over when to
make an escape. Shaka's murderous rage battled with his feeling for
his newfound companion and comraderie won out.

Shaka nodded at Charles' words, and Tjar shrugged and continued to
pace his cell.

Charles lay down in the middle of his cell on the cleanest bit of
ground that he could find. He tucked his grail tightly under his arm,
and whispered softly in Latin. Murmuring "In nomine Patris, et Filii,
et Spiritus Sancti", he fell asleep.

As the sky brightened, the prisoners looked around at their jail and
their jailers. Each bamboo cage was perhaps four feet square, and the
five-and-a-half foot ceilings were uncomfortably low for Shaka.  The
cells were arranged in two rows of eight cells each, and three men
besides Shaka, Tjar, Charles, and Glenn were also imprisoned:

    Guard

*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*
|   || C || G || S ||   || P || P ||   |
*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*
*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*
|   ||   || T ||   || P ||   ||   ||   |
*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*

    Guard

A double "wall" of bamboo separated each cell from the others, and
prisoners in adjoining cells could not touch fingers with each other.
A guard stood on each side of the jail structure, and another guard
walked around it in the clockwise direction. When the walking guard
reached a stationary guard, he relieved the man, who took up walking
around to the other side.

The guards appeared to be Chinese, and wore their towels tightly
around their legs and across their chests. Their expressions were
fierce, and each held a flint-tipped spear and had a dagger with a
wooden handle thrust into the waistband of their towel-trousers.

Charles, on awakening has called out to them in an imperial tone.

Charles: "Guards! -- Do you speak this language? I wish to petition
     our release -- Summon your leader!"

His only response was a jab with the butt of a spear and the chuckles
of the guards. Amused, they point at Charles and spoke rapidly. Other
guards took the men's grails, and some minutes after they heard the
sounds of the grailstones erupting, they were each brought a piece of
hard bread and a cup of water. The prisoners caught the name
"Temuchin" spoken by the guards more than once, and Charles asked Tjar
about it.

Charles: "Who is this Temuchin? Glenn says you spoke of him."

Tjar: "I've just arrived as well, and a sorry state it is! This German
       fellow, though, seems to have been long enough to know."

Tjar pointed to other prisoner in his row. Charles looked excited and
held a lengthy conversation with the man.

Charles: "You are a German? You speak German? What is your name?"

The man nodded, and spoke slowly.

Friend: "Austrian, to be precise. My name is Friend."

Charles: "We are Charles, Shaka, Glenn. What can you tell us about
      this Temuchin? We will surely help you to escape as well!"

Friend: "I accept your offer, sir. Temuchin is the leader of this
     people. He looks as the guards do and they follow his orders
     with great loyalty.  He is a tyrant and a megalomaniac;
     moreover, he fears that all will seek to overthrow his and
     without guards or weapons. He interviews each man he
     captures, takes his grail, and puts him to work.  In the week
     I have been here, I have been forced to build huts and houses
     for Temuchin's people. The fruits of my grail are taken from
     me daily, and the bread and Riverwater are my only
     sustenance. If I am correct, Temuchin now wishes to build a
     palace for himself, a symbol of his superiority which will
     mask his fears, and I fear you have been captured in order to
     work on it."

Charles: "What of the ladies?"

Friend spoke sadly.
Friend: "Alas, like the best of the grails, they too will be divided
     between Temuchin and his favored servants, until they tire of
     them, and put them to work along us. Or simply kill them."

Even Glenn took notice of this, and Tjar turned quite red.

Charles: "Can we not ransom ourselves?"

Friend: "What can you give Temuchin that he can not get from you by
     force? But now, I perceive, you will soon meet him for
     yourself."

A troop of ten guards approached the cells. In their center was a man
who, if less imposing in stature, was far more imposing in
countenance. His scowling gaze moved among the new prisoners, and when
he spoke, it was in a loud voice. Seeing that none of the men could
understand his words, he held out his two hands before him, as if
weighing two bundles. Hefting the imagined bundle in his left hand, he
clapped the hand on the shoulder of one of his guards. Testing the
weight of the air in his right hand, he brought it up, palm forward,
and presented it to the men. The image of a man's head on a stake was
dyed into the palm of his hand. He made the weighing motion again and
then folded his arms and regarded the men expectantly.

            *  *  *  *

The olive-skinned woman stood proudly in her cell with her head held
high. Her face showed no trace of fear or dismay. Her hands had been
untied by the guards, and they lay serenely at her side as she turned
in a slow circle, her eyes darting here and there, noting the strength
of the bars, the roof construction, and finally resting on Maria for a
brief moment. The pale woman seemed too shocked by their capture to do
anything but look back, blankly.

The guards regarded the women with evident lechery, but made no move
to touch them or even speak, though they occasionally smirked or
leered as they stood watch.

Stretching catlike, the olive-skinned woman smothered a yawn, then
curled up against the back of the cage, near the wall adjoining
Maria's cell. After staring out at the night for a few minutes, and
trying to make sense of the darkness-muffled sounds, she turned her
eyes back towards Maria and Hypatia. Taking a marijuana stick from her
grail, she attempted to light it, but her firelighter brought on a
commotion from the guards, who confiscated it before she could bring
it to bear. Warily, the guards also took her grail, and Maria's as well.

Once the guards had resumed their posts, Maria sank into a deep
slumber and the woman who had named herself Hypatia leaned close to
the cage adjacent to hers and whispered to the other in Latin.

Hypatia: "I have yet to find a method of breaking through these reed
      structures.  Perhaps my skills are not up to it.  If you
      have a solution to offer, I would be gladdened to hear of
      it.  I have been here some days and fear for my companion."

Her face is a mask of concern and strength as she frowns in concentration at
the ground beneath her feet.

Olive-skinned woman: "Although I am a warrior, I fight with my thoughts."

She briefly touched her forehead.

Woman: "Right now my armies are in chaos, and badly in need of rest,
        just as soldiers need to be resupplied, I need to sleep.
        Tomorrow is time enough to fight, and tomorrow, perhaps, we
        will know more of the enemy."

Hypatia continued to mumble.

Hypatia: "Lifting the bars up didn't work. Pushing them downward
      didn't work. Pushing out didn't work. Pulling in? Did I try
      pulling in? Well, pulling in doesn't work. Up and out?
      No. Down and out?  No. These reeds seem quite sturdy. Did I
      tell you I'd tried lifting them up?"

Noticing that the other was no longer listening, Hypatia stopped.

Hypatia and the olive-skinned woman concluded their conversation.
The olive-skinned woman turned onto her side, and in minutes her
breathing deepened and her muscles relaxed in sleep. Hypatia too fell
into a fitful and uneasy sleep.

The olive-skinned woman woke with the rising sun, and after stretching
and shaking some of the accumulated grit of her skin, settled herself
near the front of her cage. Maria too awoke, and gazed about her.
Hypatia surveyed her surroundings, and, taking in the positions of the
guards with bored disinterest, she looked instead at the new arrivals.

The olive-skinned woman was undeniably attractive, and held herself
like one accustomed to power. The paler woman, Maria, seemed less
fragile than she had the night before.

Hypatia also considered what she had learned about the construction of
the cages. The bamboo bars were sunk about three inches into the
hard-packed earth, but some heavy weight on the roof of the cells
prevented lifting them or kicking them from their place.

As the sky brightened, the prisoners consider their situation.
Their cages were four feet square, and five-and-a-half feet high.
They were at the end of a row of eight cells which abutted the bamboo
fence that ringed the compound. The prisoners were separated from each
other by a double wall of bamboo bars that prevented contact, and a
guard stood at either end of the row of cages.

*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*
| H || M || O ||   ||   ||   ||   ||   |
*---**---**---**---**---**---**---**---*
========================================

The guard nearest them wore a towel like trousers about his legs and
another across his chest. A dagger thrust into his waistband and a
flint-tipped spear completed his uniform. He watched the woman stir
with interest.

Hypatia spoke again.

Hypatia: "I know from other women here what will happen to us. The
      leader of this place, Temuchin, will visit tonight, and will
      select one of us for his bed until she displeases him. Then
      we will rejoin the men, laboring as slaves..if we are
      lucky. But we should be safe until nightfall."

The women heard the sound of the grailstones firing, and about an hour
later were brought a rough meal of hard bread and Riverwater.
They ate thoughtfully.