star fleet evening light

August, 1771

Aubry St. Jacque stepped into the cool stone silence of the church's apse.
Just as he did, he was engulfed in a pool of rose tinged light that spilled down through the widows high above him. He stopped at the ornately carved oaken rail and dropped to his knees. Behind him shuffled a wretched woman, covered in rags. She smelled of fish and rancid oil, and her bare feet were splayed wide from years of burden. She leaned over and hissed into his ear.
"I will have my reward now Monsieur."
Aubry St. Jacque closed his eyes and placed his hands across his heart. The cool air was rich with the smell of frankincense.
The woman slid a knife from beneath her loose garments.
"It was never my intention," St. Jacque whispered.
"I have no ears for that now," she said.
"Have mercy,' he said.
"It is not my place to be merciful. Ask of him who can grant it so. I am just his handmaiden."
High above them the huge brass bells began to peal.