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Table of Contents and Overview for At the Inlet | Information and ordering instructions for all of our fiction

Hurricanes were a fact of life on the Island; around the turn of the month the Serelians faced one coming up on their coast.  Since Serelia and Serelia Beach were on a coral ridge, they were not only a good place to ride out a storm; they gave some protection to the inland areas also.  Everyone just battened down the hatches, took the boats (including the yacht) inland, and rode it out.

At the palace and Cathedral, this meant that, once the shutters were put up and all of the loose items outside brought in or tied down, everyone pretty much stayed in their quarters for the duration.  This meant a separation for Julian and Terry; Julian was forced to ride it out pretty much by himself.  Darlene had high hopes of spending additional time with Terry, but Annette dashed her hopes when she decided it was time to start a mah-jongg marathon.  They tried to teach Darlene the game but she quickly realised that she would never catch up with these two, so she contented herself with either watching Annette and Terry or playing gin with Adam and George, an inclusion they soon learned to regret.  But this blow stayed offshore enough so that the damage to the country was minimal, and in a couple of days all was back to normal.

Shortly after that Julian came to see Desmond.  “I am pleased to inform you that Terry’s catechisation is complete,” Julian announced.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Desmond replied.

“Of course not—why should I be?”

“You’ve certainly taken long enough, but I can’t believe that all those evenings about the Cathedral have been spent pouring over the Thirty-Nine Articles.  There’s nothing romantic about them, is there?”

“Well, perhaps there is…” Julian mused.

“Don’t be silly—you’re telling me that you’ve gone through the catechism?”

“Yes”

“And the Articles?”

“Of course.”

“And she understands them?”

“Yes, very well.”

“And she agrees with them?”

“We had some interesting discussions, but in the main, yes.”

“In the main?  Don’t you realise the consequences of what could happen?”

“I always thought our Church was the Church of comprehension.”

“Comprehension died with the Glorious Revolution,” Desmond snapped.  “You saw what happened in those days.  We must be careful who we admit to our Church—next thing you know, they’ll be rolling in the floor and barking like dogs.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Julian observed.

“Of course not—that’s their strategy.  Look respectable up front, then their real selves come out when you can’t dispense with them.”

“Well, what I have seen is a person who is committed to living a holy life and also one who is committed to the study and following of the Holy Scriptures—and that’s more that I’ve sometimes seen in you.”

Desmond glared at Julian.  “I wouldn’t take that if you weren’t my brother,” he said through clenched teeth.  There was a silence, and then Desmond resumed.  “All right, Julian, I’ll draft a letter to the Bishop certifying that she’s completed instruction and is ready to be received into the Church.  But I’m warning you—I hope you know what you’re doing here.  If you don’t, there could be consequences for all of us.”

Julian stayed in his office until the letter was typed, reviewed, and signed, and then delivered it personally to the Bishop’s Palace.  Much to his surprise, the Bishop asked him to come in.  Julian came in to the Bishop’s office and handed him the letter.

“Where is Desmond?” the Bishop asked.

“In his office,” Julian replied.

“He must not think this is important…I suppose we can go ahead and receive her next Sunday, as I will be in the Cathedral.”

“Next Sunday?” Julian asked excitedly.  “Thank you, sir.”

“I was hoping this would be done before she left with Mrs. Lewis and you for your organ tour.”

“Oh, yes—this will be splendid,” Julian said breathlessly.

“Since you’re here,” the Bishop resumed, “I thought you might find these interesting.”  “These” were letters of recommendation from Bishop des Cieux and Father Avalon.  “This is probably Her Highness’ doing—obtained by our diplomatic corps.”  He looked up at Julian.  “I knew that their bishop was fond of her, but I had no idea that Avalon would speak of her in such glowing terms, especially in view of the way she departed.  You have a unique individual in your life—I’m just not sure what we’re going to do with her.”

The one thing the Bishop did know to do, however, is to receive her into the Church, which he did on the following Sunday.  Terry was received by herself, making her the centre of attention, but the Bishop dispensed with a long speech about where she came from or how good it was that she came out of it.  This was doubtless at royal insistence.

August was a month that alternated between dodging hurricanes, sweltering in the humid heat and getting drenched in the rain.  As such it was a slow time at the Cathedral, and so Julian made plans for his annual tour of Churches of Serelia and other Anglican churches on the eastern end of the Island.  His recitals were renown, even by those who were usually bored with pipe organ music.  The first one was the afternoon after Terry’s reception into the Church; it took place at St. Matthew’s Church in Serelia Beach, built on the site of the old Cavitt plantation.  In terms of membership it was the largest parish in the Church; a good crowd came out to hear him.  Terry tagged along; although she wasn’t the biggest fan of this kind of music, Julian had inspired an appreciation for it.

The next day the tour started in earnest.  Priscilla Lewis travelled with Terry; this enabled her to follow Julian around, and gave her some time out of the house.  It was the first time in years that Julian did not have to make the trip alone; it seemed to add an élan to his whole being, even while playing.

The first stop was Amherst, where Julian was to play at the All Saints’ Church there.  Darlene went with them for the first leg of the trip; this gave her an opportunity to go see her family.  They arrived at the church; Darlene’s mother came and got her while Julian got the organ ready and Terry and Priscilla made sure everything was set in the church.  The idea was that the girls would greet the people as they came in; however, here Priscilla did it by herself, as Terry was extremely nervous about meeting Darlene’s family without Darlene.

The recital went well and afterwards Terry was standing with Priscilla next to their usual seats, which were those in the front nearest the organ.  When Terry saw Darlene, she knew the dreaded moment had come.

“Terry, this is my family: my father Thomas, mother Susan, my sister-in-law Allison”—Terry realised that this was Ronald’s widow—“and her sons Ronald, Jr., Thomas, and finally their daughter, which they in a moment of insanity named after me, Darlene.”  Terry saw the entire Amherst clan that remained in Serelia in front of her.  Although the family red hair had turned white, Thomas was still an impressive figure who stood ramrod straight.  Terry could see Ronald replicated in his namesake.

“We have heard a great deal about you,” Thomas said.  “These are Ronald’s children,” he said, driving home the point.

“Your father was a great general—perhaps the Island’s greatest—whose only fault was that he was carried away by his passions, a good lesson for us all,” Terry said, glad to get out the line she had rehearsed for weeks.

“You really believe that?” Ronald, Jr., asked.

“I really do, in spite of all that’s happened,” Terry answered.

“Those are kind sentiments,” Thomas said.  “Well, we must get back to the estate—lots of work to do even before retiring.”  They said their goodbyes and left, but Allison lingered.  She was a cheery looking blonde who nevertheless showed the signs of the disasters that had befallen her.

“That took a lot of courage to say that,” she said to Terry.  “Thanks.”  Before Terry could respond she walked away and rejoined her family.  Darlene had managed to duck behind Terry long enough to come out and give her a hug before leaving with her parents and relatives.

“I’m glad you were ready for this,” Darlene said.  “My father wasn’t.”  With that she went on and joined her family while Terry, Priscilla and Julian tested out the rectory.  Terry was used to uneven accommodations in a Pentecostal church; she expected a higher quality in a church with more resources.  She discovered, however, that state funding was not a panacea for everything, and dumpy rectories were one of them.

The next day they were able to finally flee All Saints’ rectory and make the short trip down the road to St. John the Baptist Church in Denton.  The Old Beran Road widened a bit from the stretch that Terry was so familiar with in Drahla; here it took a straight shot from Amherst through Denton to Claudia.  They reached the church in mid-afternoon; Julian had insisted on a leisurely departure from Amherst.

As Julian tinkered with the organ to see what needed to be done to it, Priscilla and Terry went through their routine.  The church looked like the sexton had been on an extended holiday; they found themselves doing clean-up work.  As they tried to make the best of it, Terry looked up from yet another shabby kneeling cushion to see a woman in front of her.

“Welcome to St. John the Baptist,” she said, “I’m Theresa Gant.”

“Darlene’s sister?”  Terry asked.  She had heard that the two sisters didn’t resemble each other much; now she knew it for herself.  Theresa looked more like her mother, a little taller than Darlene with short blonde hair and age lines that hinted at a less than happy life. Terry was surprised to see Theresa in slacks, which became her figure that had been moulded by the typical Island low calorie diet, supplemented by some recent additions. Serelia was a place that still had reservations about women wearing pants, especially on a rector’s wife.

“Before the war, I was Thomas’ daughter.  During the war, I was Ronnie and Eddie’s sister.  Now, I’m Darlene’s sister.”

“I didn’t mean it that way—I’m sorry,” Terry apologised.

“I know—you are Darlene are friends.”

“I only met the rest of the family yesterday.”

“Thanks for straightening this place up—our sexton’s not very energetic.”  Terry then reintroduced Theresa to Priscilla, and the three of them finished getting the church ready as well as could be expected.

Julian’s recital went according to plan, except that the Rector, Anselm Gant, got up and made a long and tedious introduction to Julian’s concert, so long that even Julian started looking at his watch, worried he would have to delete some of his pieces to finish the programme in a timely manner.  But it all got done and they retreated to the rectory afterwards.

The Gant’s rectory was a definite improvement over the last one; Theresa explained that her father had come and spent his own money and brought his own crew from their estate to upgrade it.  Theresa and Priscilla retreated to the kitchen to prepare the meal, leaving Terry and Julian to Anselm’s tender mercies.  Terry, having been raised in a home with a cook, had limited kitchen skills, something that the Cathedral’s setup obscured for Julian.

Terry would soon regret her lack of culinary expertise, because Anselm proved no more exciting in the living room than he did in the pulpit.  While downing one scotch and water after another, he droned on and on about the poor state of the Serelian Church, the inept policies of the Bishop, and last but not least those dreadful Pentecostals and Baptists who were making life so miserable for everyone. Even Julian was beginning to tire of this dreary refrain by so many of his colleagues, but Terry signalled him to let it ride.  This and other equally sad subjects continued over the dinner table, along with the wine and liqueur.  With dinner complete, a groggy Anselm abruptly announced that he was retiring.

Although leaving company so soon was usually regarded as rude, no one seemed to mind.  Julian volunteered to help clean up, but he ended up helping only his sister-in-law, as Theresa invited Terry out to the screened porch.

Theresa lit the citronella candles.  “Care for a drink?” she asked her guest.

“Soda is fine, thank you” Terry replied.

“Now that you’ve been received into our church, you can, you know.”

“I’d prefer not to, thanks.”

“My husband went to an Episcopal prep school in the States.  He had a Latin teacher who was an old-fashioned Episcopal minister.  One day the teacher told the class that ‘when four Whiskeypalians get together, there’s always a fifth.’”  They chuckled over that while Theresa got Terry’s soda and her rum old fashioned.  They sat down.

“You’re seeing Julian, aren’t you?” Theresa asked Terry.

“Yes, I am.”

“I hope it works out for you.  Julian is a fine man.  Maybe I’m just not good enough for him.”

“You were at one time.”

“That was a long time ago…things change.  Things get in the way.”

“Where are your children?”

“They’re staying with his parents.  They live in Fort Albert.  They’re getting up in years—they’re not doing well.  The kids are real good about helping them.”

“Drahla.”

“They never supported independence, but they didn’t want to leave.  It got pretty tough sometimes.”

“Do you ever see Edward’s children?”

“Not since he was killed.  His widow took them to the mainland and vowed never to step foot on the Island again.  She’s as good as her word.  She remarried about two years after she left.  We hear from them every now and then.  They seem to be doing okay.  It’s killing my parents not to see them any more.”  Theresa took another gulp from her glass.  “Darlene thinks a lot of you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“That amazes me…you’re the last person I would have figured to suddenly become her lifelong friend.  Now I hear she’s gotten some kind of religion, thanks to you.”

“The change in her life is pretty substantial,” Terry observed.  “Even her mother-in-law has noticed it.”

“There’s only one god of the Amhersts, and that’s themselves,” Theresa came back.  “Their only desire is to control others.  In some ways, Darlene is the most single-minded one of them all in that regard—more so that even Ronnie.”

“You seem to easily disassociate yourself from them.”

“I’m too much like my mother.  I let other people run over me.  I find this religion thing of Darlene hard to believe—a lot of other people do, too.”

“Perhaps she realises that this is too tough of a neighbourhood to make it on her own.”

Theresa looked at Terry with surprise.  “Maybe you know her better than I thought.  But let me stop you here—I don’t want to hear any sermons out of you.  I have to endure them every week.  Besides, you probably should have stuck with your old church—this one is dying, if you ask me.”

“How so?”

“See that?”  The rectory was right on the river; the screened in porch overlooked it.  The view really wasn’t bad at all, especially considering Denton’s location.  Directly across from the rectory was a large building with no windows but reasonable exterior lighting.  “That’s the Lodge, over in Claudia.  Right opposite of the church.  This Island’s whole spiritual journey is summed up right here.  You’d be surprised how many people on this side of the river are in the Lodge.  They go through the Scottish Rite—no political strings attached, not yet at least.  My husband’s a member, but that’s not the only reason why he goes over the border. He has a mistress over there.  I thought after the first go around he’d learn, but he hasn’t.”

“You almost ended it over that, I heard.”

Theresa raised her arm, letting her sleeve drop to reveal the scars around her wrist.  “If it weren’t for the children, I’d do it again.  This time I’d get it right.  My father told me that, if I ever divorced Anselm, he’d disinherit me totally, and I can’t afford that.  So I just have to wait.”  She fixed herself another drink.  “The Lodge and the Church—it’s all right here.  The Church is in trouble.  Our attendance has dropped every year we’ve been here.  Meanwhile your Pentecostal preachers are busy doing their thing.  They’ll even sneak across the border into Claudia and conduct services, even though technically the penalty for being a Christian in Claudia is still crucifixion.”

“Your sister told me about Avinet’s Beach,” Terry noted.

“Our father used to tell that story when he didn’t like what was going on at church,” Theresa responded.  “In any case, one of these preachers had King Mahlon’s daughter, Princess Ophelia, to come to his meetings one night.  She was converted right there—but Mahlon threw her into prison. I still think the Lodge is going to come back.  If you and Darlene and George hadn’t put a stop to it, the Verecundans were ready to put a lot of money into it.  If they had, things would be vastly different on this end of the Island.”

“Perhaps there’s a lesson in this.”

“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.”

There was no recital the following night, so they returned to Serelia for the next day and night.  Desmond certainly had his hands full with the children; the relief was welcome.  Julian rehearsed some different pieces he would play on the second leg of the journey.  Terry spent the evening with the King, Queen, and George, as Darlene was still in Amherst with her parents.  The next morning, before they left, Annette called Terry in to her bedchamber for breakfast, as she wanted to have a Bible study along the lines of the ones Terry did with Darlene.  It was the first time that Annette had attended any kind of Bible study, and they enjoyed their time together.

Table of Contents and Overview for At the Inlet | Information and ordering instructions for all of our fiction

Norman Cameron came into his office very early one morning later in the week.  He was expecting a special visitor who wanted to speak with him in confidence.  He heard a knock on his door, and motioned the visitor to come in.  It was Julian, who came in, shut the door, and nervously sat down.

“Thanks for seeing me at this unpropitious hour,” Julian said.

“Our work never sleeps.  What’s on your mind?” Norman asked.  Julian hesitated.  “It’s Terry, isn’t it?  She’s started something you’re not sure you can finish, hasn’t she?”

“It’s very difficult sometimes,” Julian confessed.  “I may be old fashioned, but I’ve never heard of a couple exchanging a kiss before they exchanged first names.”

“You’ve overlooked the fact that she’s Verecundan,” Norman observed.  “They tend to be more forward down there.  Seems to me you’ve got someone who’s a cut above any other Verecundan I’ve ever met.”

“She’s lived on this end of the Island long enough where she should know better,” Julian retorted.  “My time with her shows a person who’s very serious about her faith.  But then there was the beach…”

“I first saw my wife on the beach out here when we were six,” Norman observed.  “We looked a lot better then than we do now.  Maybe she’s making up for lost time—you both seem to have that problem, you know.  You may have also overlooked the fact that she’s been married before, so that gives her a different perspective on things.”

Julian breathed a deep breath, then said, “I don’t know what to do.  I don’t want to be put in a position where”—

“—you’ll be forced to do something that you don’t think is right,” Norman finished.  “Sounds like something you need to get some spiritual counselling on, instead of coming to this old spy.”

“I spoke with Desmond about it.”

“So what did he have to say?”

“He went into this long speech about the differences between us—who follow the via media—and her—who follows the via extrema.  He said that she’s more used to dealing with strong emotions than I am because of her church.  But he left it up to me as to how to deal with it.”

“And you didn’t find that very helpful.”

“No, I didn’t”

Norman leaned back in his chair.  “I’m not a very religious person—I know you’ve tried to interest me in that, and for that I’m grateful.  I’ll never be able repay you for what you’ve done for my and my family.  You’ve been a friend when no one else cared.  But I’ll also tell you that my first loyalty is to our king—it’s my duty to protect him and our country, and if you ever make me choose between you and king, I’ll choose the king.  One reason I’m your friend is because you’ve never made me make that choice, and I don’t believe you ever will.”

“I understand that,” Julian said.

“I did this little preface to get to my point—you’re not the only one who has had your concerns about Terry Marlowe.”

“I’m not?” he asked, taken aback.

“Terry is probably the most investigated person here,” Norman began.  “A lot of people were unhappy that His Majesty brought her here.  She was, after all, a central leader in the rebellion that literally split our kingdom in half.  So we had to leave no stone unturned.  That forced us to look at some pretty unsavoury stuff.”

“Like what?” Julian asked.

“We were able to obtain her Verecundan dossier.  It had a lot of what we already know—that’s where we got her baptismal and confirmation documents—but it also had all kinds of tittle-tattle about her going to bed with just about everybody she came into contact with.  I found this amazing, since Verecundan feminists on the one hand gripe that women are held to a double standard and the other trash a woman they don’t like by showing her as a whore.  But we had to investigate it, even before the Drahlans foolishly dumped her as Royal Counsellor.

“So we sent Kyle down to Barlin and elsewhere.  He gave kickboxing exhibits in churches, schools and on the streets.  Between those he was talking with people about all kinds of things, and the subject of Terry came up quite frequently.  We also talked with a lot of other people as well.  And we finally came to two conclusions about her.”

“Which were?” Julian asked, eagerly.

“First, we realised that all of this material was a lot of rubbish.  The sources didn’t check out.  We’ve concluded that all of the sexual exploits in her files—except those when she was a prostitute in Verecunda, and obviously her marriage—were either fabrications or came from her political enemies.  I also grilled her pretty intensely the first morning here, and my gut feeling about her squares with this.  This was a relief to us, because if any of this had been true, we would have fought her coming here vigorously instead of recommending it.

“Second, in the course of all this, I came to understand something that most people here don’t—that her church expected her to be perfect, and that she’s worked hard to live up to that.”

“Perfect?”

“Perfect.  That little adventure on the beach last weekend was probably her first time in a bathing suit since her husband was killed.  He probably never saw her in one until they married—you’re quite the privileged character.  You’re also probably her first boyfriend since that time.  The only jewellery she’s had in the last fifteen years was her wedding jewellery, which she sold during the war to pay for her house.  Her grandfather was the richest man this Island has ever known, and yet she could probably count the number of outfits she owned on both hands.

“Julian, take my advice.  Most of us here in Serelia wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the feelings generated on that beach of ours.  She’s a good woman.  You need to stop worrying about being normal and start thinking about something more permanent.”

Julian sat in silence for a minute.  “I supposed you’re right, Norman,” he finally said.  He arose.  “Thank you for your help.”

“Any time,” Norman replied.

A short time later Julian and Terry gathered after dinner for catechism in the colonnade.  Julian wanted to start but Terry closed the Prayer Book.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” she said to him, seriously.

“Oh?  And what might that be?”

“It’s about last Saturday.”  She looked away, and then back into his eyes.  “I overdid it.  I owe you an apology.  Probably overdid it for our first kiss, too.”  She grasped his hand.  “I just want you to love me as much as I love you, Julian.”

“If that’s possible, I do,” he said.  It was his turn to do some thinking.  “How long has it been since your husband was killed?” he finally asked.

“Six years,” she replied.

“Did you court anyone after that?”

“Not until you,” she said.  “We had a war to finish.  Then we had a nation to build.  I don’t know, being both a minister and a head of government, I didn’t feel I was in a good position to open up that part of my life.  There were too many complications.”

“Some people say you should have courted Prince William,” Julian observed.

“William wasn’t a Christian at the time,” she replied.  “I won’t date anyone who isn’t.  That’s why I grilled you so hard on the subject.  Besides, I always felt that William wanted someone racier than me.”  Julian blanched at the thought.  “Now he has everything—both Jesus Christ and the wife.”  She looked at him with a slightly sad look.  “I know you’re trying to make this easier for me, but you don’t have to.  I guess I’m kind of an extremist with stuff like this.  Back before I met Jesus, I was either selling myself on the streets or I was known as the ‘Virgin Terry’ in school.”

Julian sat up at that.  “Was that unusual?”

“In Verecunda, it certainly was.  I lost a few close friends over that.  One I didn’t lose was Cathy Arnold—she felt that it was my choice, even though she didn’t agree with it then.”

Julian could see pain coming over her again.  “That was a difficult thing to do, wasn’t it?”

“It was the right thing to do,” she replied, “but the social ostracism was hard to take.  It seemed to be harder on my mother than me, though—she arranged for my prom date to rape me.”

“You don’t need to relive that,” Julian said.

“Thank you,” Terry replied.  “Now you know why Verecundan women have the reputation they do.”

“Girls,” Julian corrected her.  “We’re still dealing with a girl here.”  That earned Julian a long embrace before they resumed their catechism.

The pattern of life continued for everyone.  Adam and George were spending a lot of time together, touring the kingdom and especially visiting their many economic enterprises.  Serelia’s economy was very much a centralised business; most of the major enterprises in the country, except those of the remaining founding families such as the Amhersts, were under control of the Crown.  This was one of the main things that caused the war with Drahla; now that the Drahlans were gone, the king’s control over the economy was enhanced.  The monarchy’s success in maintaining control was based in part of their paternalistic policies towards their people; another important task of Adam and George was to hear petitions from people as they went about.

Terry and Darlene were making good progress at last on their duty.  One morning Terry came in as usual.  After they had prayer together, they were supposed to have Bible study, but Darlene wanted to chat a bit.

“How are things with Julian?” Darlene asked.

“They’re very good,” Terry replied with a smile.  “My catechism is going well—we’re having a good time with it.  We had a lot of fun back on the beach last Saturday with you, George, Desmond, Priscilla and the children—that was a nice outing.”

“That was nice,” Darlene echoed.  She assumed a pensive look to her, and became silent.

“Is something wrong, Darlene?” Terry asked, worried about her friend.

Darlene took a Bible, opened it, placed it in front of Terry, pointed at a verse, and asked, “What does this mean?”

Terry read the verse aloud: “‘And all the people answered: ‘His blood be on our heads and on our children’s!’’—Matthew 27:25.  This verse has always been difficult because it involves the Jews.  The thing you have to remember, though, is that at this point the Jews were the only ones interested in Jesus Christ one way or the other.  When the Gentiles came in contact with His followers, they often reacted in the same way or worse.”

“That’s the problem,” Darlene sighed.

“What’s the problem?”

“The Gentiles,” Darlene came back.  “And specifically, the ones in Beran.”

“What are you talking about?  Everyone knows that Christianity was illegal in Beran, as it still is in Claudia and was in Verecunda.”

“It’s more specific than that…In 1829 Beran’s first King Aaron—my ancestor—had set everything up—his throne, the Lodge, slavery, everything.  Then he discovered that his Grand Tyler, a man named Edouard Avinet, was a Christian, and was running what we would now call a house church.  Aaron became enraged at this; he decided to make an example out of him.  So he took Avinet, his entire family, and others in the house church out to a place north of Beran now called Avinet’s Beach, stripped them and crucified them—all twenty-six of them.  The youngest was Avinet’s last daughter, who was three.  They were so proud of this that they incorporated the whole thing into their version of Royal Arch Masonry—I think the Claudians still do.  Then Aaron made crucifixion the penalty for being a Christian.  I think they only did that twice after that in Beran.”

“The Aloxans took me to Avinet’s Beach when I was there for their revival and Bible classes,” Terry shared.  “They feel it’s a sacred place, even though I don’t think they’re aware of the full story.  I think King Leslie does, though.  They’re trying to purchase the property for their campground and Bible school—I think they’re pretty close to getting it.”

“You’ve been there?” Darlene asked.  Darlene was, though retreating into her thoughts.  The more Terry thought about the enormity of the event, the more tearful about it she became.  Finally Darlene came out of her near trance and said, “Terry, am I cursed?  What about my little one?  Doesn’t it also say”—she took the Bible and went back a couple of chapters—“that ‘And the King will reply ‘I tell you, as often as you did it to one of these my Brothers, however lowly, you did it to me.’’  Have I, through those which have gone before me, crucified my Lord, Terry?”

Terry pulled herself back together, took a Bible and went to Ezekiel.  “‘The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.  But if the wicked will turn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and do that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die,’” she read.  “Everyone who has sinned in any way has crucified Jesus.  Darlene, you took the first step to breaking this thing by being saved.  You followed up on that step too.  There’s a lot of ‘backwash’ from old Beran, some spiritual, and some temporal.  We’ll just have to deal with it as it comes.  But if we trust God, and follow Him, we can overcome whatever legacy this and all the other evils of old Beran—and old Verecunda too—that come our way.”  Terry took Darlene’s hands and they prayed for this to happen, and then resumed their work.

As the days progressed, so did Terry’s catechism.  One evening, as they sat in the colonnade, they reached the thirty-first of the Thirty-Nine Articles.  Terry read it out: “The offering of Christ once made is that perfect redemption, and satisfaction, for all the sins of the whole world, both original and actual; and there is none other satisfaction for sin, but that alone.  Wherefore the sacrifices of Masses, in which it was commonly said, that the Priest did offer Christ for the quick and the dead, to have remission of pain or guilt, were blasphemous fables, and dangerous deceits.”

“I suppose that may be difficult for you with your Roman Catholic background,” Julian said.

“Not really,” Terry replied.  “I guess I didn’t give it much thought growing up.  After I was born again and went to the Avalon Retreat, the more I read the Bible the more uncomfortable I got with the whole idea of the Mass as a sacrifice.  Since then I have always preached that Christ’s work on the Cross is complete.  And we seldom said Masses for the dead or living on the Retreat.”

“Interesting,” Julian mused.  “Let’s move on to the next one.”

“Bishops, Priests, and Deacons, are not commanded by God’s Law, either to vow the estate of a single life, or to abstain from marriage: therefore, it is lawful for them, as for all other Christian men, to marry at their own discretion, as they shall judge the same to serve better to godliness,” Terry read.  She put her Prayer Book down, turned to Julian and said, “That’s something only you can decide.”  With that Julian felt those long slender fingers coasting across his back and once again found himself in a long embrace and kiss.