PART THREE

*

There once was a man

Who was born to be king

He changed all our lives

And he made my heart sing

He turned water into wine

And called his fishermen

He cured the sick

The lame could walk

The blind could see again

He told us of the shepherds

And the flowers in the field

The story of the farmer's seed

And the harvest it would yield

He told us of two houses

And the man who lost his son

Of two men in the temple

And the Good Samaritan

*

Love

Only love's gonna take you higher

Love

Only love's gonna carry you home

*

[He Said Love – Barclay James Harvest]

*

Jayne shot to his feet, “Wo cao! Wuh de mah! You are ruttin' kiddin' me, right?” He saw the sublime look on Mariamne's face and slowly sat down, “No offense; but as I said to somone else not so long ago, I'm a merc. 'S'what I do best. Killin' folks an' getting' paid for it.”

She looked at him steadily, “I know. It's what you do best. There is no judgement in that – as I said before - in every 'verse, you are a warrior.”

“But I – we – ain't even ruttin' sure there's a God!!”

Mariamne smiled, “To be honest, neither am I. I have had experiences and seen things which lead me to believe there is at least love behind the 'verse. Of course, I may be wrong.”

“How we gonna be Shepherds of any gorram thing if'n we don't have a God to think on or nuttin'?”

Her smile widened, “*That's the journey.”

Vera frowned, trying to get her head around the more Zen-like aspects, “So; we stay as we are; living on the edge and frequently killing or hurting people out of necessity or 'cause we're getting paid. How does that make us Shepherds?”

Jayne gestured emphatically, “An' we both been pretty bad sometimes. Me mebbe more'n Vera. I was expectin' to end up down below with the fire and the pitchforks, not with a pair of sissyfied wings!”

“Ah. Christian hang-overs. The afterlife...is. As I understand it, in your dying moments there is a review of your life. Good, bad, indifferent; everything. Not just what you did, but what you felt and intended.