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Nathaniel shook his head. “I ain’t done no forgiving for his poisoning me, trying to murder me. Murder for hire, too. And I don’t suppose his wife done forgive him none for abandoning her and a half-dozen halfwit children in Temperance.”

The older man smiled indulgently. “You should understand that Brother Rufus was most candid about his misdeeds. We did not accept him immediately. However, he worked with us and for us. He proved himself to us. Though we value children highly, because he has left a wife and children behind, we have not let him wed. Even so, he does his share of duty minding children. He also has not taken a drop of hard cider, ale, or whiskey since he has been with us.”

Nathaniel let his rifle rest back on his shoulder. “I find that hard to believe.”

“But you must believe it, or believe I am a liar.”

“Begging your pardon, Steward, but I onliest got to believe you done been fooled.”

Rathfield stepped up and laid a hand on Nathaniel’s left shoulder. “I think, Mr. Woods, we should take the Steward at his word.”

“Colonel, this man tried to murder me.”

“I appreciate that, but I would point out that Colonial authority ended somewhere back at the crest of the Westridge Mountains.” Rathfield addressed the Steward. “I would think, sir, that you would agree that Mr. Woods’ grievances do deserve to be aired.”

Ezekiel Fire nodded solemnly. “Confession is the first step to redemption. Brother Rufus, you will attend a council meeting this evening. We shall discuss your situation.”

“Yes, Steward.”

The way that Rufus bowed his head, and the respect in his voice, surprised Owen. Rufus Branch had been a loud, lazy, corrupt braggart who drank and brawled and ran a gang of ne’er-do-wells in Temperance Bay. Though he joined the Mystrian Rangers and fought valiantly at Fort Cuivre, he fled the Crown Colonies when he failed to murder Nathaniel. Save for a musket ball fired by Makepeace’s little brother, Justice, he would have succeeded.

But the man before them was a man transformed. He clearly wasn’t afraid of any of them, but neither was he defiant. He’d become passive and accepting. Owen had no idea what had happened to him, but the change was nothing he could have believed without seeing it with his own eyes.

And I am still not sure I believe it.

The older man smiled. “Until then, you will remain here and continue your translations. You’ll have no supper, of course.”

“You are very kind, Steward. Thank you.”

Ezekiel guided them back out of the large building and back to the workshop. “You will understand if I have you stay in the workshop loft, rather than split you up and install you in our homes. No matter what verdict is rendered this evening, some hard feelings will result. If you do choose to wander the village, I would ask that you leave your guns in the loft. I promise no mischief will be done. It is just that guns do excite the blood of the young, and we would seek to avoid that.”

Owen lifted a hand. “This evening, when Rufus stands before you, what might his punishment be?”

The older man clasped his hands behind his back. “He will atone for his sins, but please do not imagine that his punishment will be based on the need for anyone to be vengeful. I understand, Mr. Woods, that you are aggrieved, and rightly so. But I would ask you to understand that in committing the sins he did against you, that Brother Rufus removed himself from the state of God’s Grace. Our punishment will be intended to bring him closer to God.”

“Give me ’bout three minutes with him, Steward, and I can guarantee you he’ll be as close to God as he’ll ever get.”

Ezekiel Fire glanced at the ground for a moment, unable to hide the hint of a smile which greeted Nathaniel’s words. When he looked back up again, he’d composed his face in such a manner that it made Owen think of a kindly old man indulging an enthused child right before laying down the law. “God has clearly gifted you with a sharp mind, Mr. Woods, and a sense of responsibility. So, I ask you, would killing Rufus Branch undo any of the things he has done? Or, is it only by living a good and honest life that he will be able to make amends?”

Nathaniel frowned. “I can see the trail you’re blazing here, but I gotta say, just because you ain’t seen a dog bite no one ain’t no reason to believe that dog’s cured of biting.”

“Brother Rufus is not a dog.”

Owen touched Nathaniel’s forearm. “You can understand, Steward, why Nathaniel is reluctant to accept what you’re saying about Brother Rufus.”

“I can, very easily.” The old man smiled. “And this is why I believe, with my whole heart, that God brought you all here. He has great things in mind for you, and Brother Rufus’ change of heart is clearly part of his plan.”

They followed the Steward in silence to the workshop, which had been completely vacated, and climbed into the loft. There they made themselves at home. Owen sat down and retrieved a journal to start making notes. Nathaniel pulled the bullet from his rifle, scraped the powder out of the chamber, and fitted a new firestone into the firing assembly.

Makepeace leaned against the wall. “Seems to me, Nathaniel, you may owe Rufus an apology.”

“How is that?”

“If Rufus has truly accepted the Lord and is living a holy life, then his sins have been forgiven.”

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed. “And exactly how is we going to know he’s being truthful? He could just be out there spinning a web of lies gonna come back and catch us all up.”

Rathfield, seated against the loft railing, smiled indulgently. “You clearly don’t understand the power of a conversion experience, Woods.”

“I ain’t saying it cain’t happen. Makepeace here tells a powerful story about him and the Good Lord. What I want to know is how we know it’s true what Rufus says.”

Rathfield looked up. “It’s true because God put it in Brother Rufus’ heart to confess his sins and accept the Good Lord as his savior. And he could not say that he’s done so, if God had not inspired him to do so.”

Nathaniel set his rifle down. “Now, if I is hearing you right, you’re telling me that you know he’s not lying because he tells you he’s not lying because God done spoke to him and told him not to lie?”

“Exactly.”

“But what if he was lying about God speaking to him?”

“The Good Book says…”

The guide raised a finger. “How do you know that what the Good Book says ain’t a lie neither?”

Rathfield blinked. “We know the Good Book is true because it was inspired by God, and God cannot lie. It says so right in the Good Book.”

Nathaniel looked over at Owen. “Kinda convenient, ain’t it, to have a book believed to be true simply because there’s a verse in there somewhere what tells you it’s true?”

Rathfield shot to his feet. “I will not tolerate blasphemy, Woods.”

Nathaniel stood, but slowly and languidly. “Well now, I don’t think I’s blaspheming. I’m just pointing out what is what. Now God, He done made every animal under the sun afore a single jot or tittle of that Good Book was writ down. Ain’t that so?”

Makepeace nodded. “The Scribes did come considerable later than events in the Garden.”

“And that means that when I see a bird pretending to have a broken wing to lead a predator away from a nest, that I’m watching a God-given talent for deception on display. Ain’t that so?”

Owen nodded. “He does have a point.”

“Animals do not have souls, Strake. Men are not animals.” Rathfield lifted his chin. “If God inspires a man to change his life, and that man shares the good news of his redemption, he is doing the work of God. When a man gives his testimony within a Fellowship, it is to confirm the faith of others and bring them closer to God. It is proof that God has touched them. Do you doubt Makepeace’s story, Woods?”