[b]The Second El Greco, Part Two[/b]

It was the next day, and Markos was overseeing the pruning of the Salinbogbog trees on both sides of the lane leading to the Cathedral of the People; Salinbogbog was a native tree species with greenish-yellow, almost white, flowers that would turn purplish later. Growing up to 15 meters, these made for a fierce rival to the cherry blossoms of Japan, cherry blossoms hard to acquire due to the hostility of that country. 

Catherine, dressed in her priestly vestments, was walking nearby, and approached him with two sacristans in tow. Her expression was awed as she saw that the seedlings were already in flower, and the next words she said were, "You and the crew having a good day, Markos?"

Markos' answer was: "My wife would have loved this, had she taken the trip to Asia with me. Say, did I ever tell you how I ended up here, 10 years ago?"

Catherine, her wrinkled face turning towards his', replied, "Only that you planned to go to Rhodesia, got turned aside by storms, then...something about 'Raj Pirates' and being driven further east till you reached Manila."

Markos nodded as the wind picked up and blew some flower petals onto his white hair. "I was a church painter and icon maker, one who lived in Mystras in Greece. I had a wife and a daugther, and we lived a happy life until the Communists came." He clenched his fists in rage. "I was part of the militia defending the town against Vafiadis' minions, and for that, my wife and daugther paid the price."

Catherine touched Markos' shoulder, concerned now. "They were killed, or worse than killed."

"I hate them!" Markos blurted out. "My wife, the love of my life, my daugther, the jewel of my years. The Communists, they are hypocrites, intolerant heirarchs who use people's poverty to their advantage!"

The painter breathed hard, before finally calming down. "I survived, I escaped; I made the trip to the port of Gytheo where refugees were fleeing south to Egypt, then to Rhodesia afterwards. If God hadn't planned differently for me, I would be in Africa right now, probably without an outlet for my skills in their bland 'Protestant' Churches."

Catherine nodded understandingly. "You've gone through a lot. It is surprising that you don't hate us as well."

Markos chuckled. "You earned my love." He made a last-minute correction, "Your people, I mean. Either way, a storm forced the ship I was on to turn back, then turn east, just in time to be caught by the 'Raj Pirates'; descendants of the British Raj that decided to turn to piracy. Those people...they reminded me just what 'reactionaries' were capable of."

He then looked at Catherine. "Those people robbed us of everything we had, then took our women and young men; the first for 'breeding', the second to conscript to their cause. I barely escaped being executed by them by giving up one of my last reminders of my family; a precious ivory statuette of the Blessed Virgin. And so I was given transport, along with a few others too old to be 'useful', to Singapore."

"By then, I was tired of anything British, so I went further east, knowing full well that the Philippines was a stronghold of the far-left who took everything for me. Which was the truth, but not all the truth. So imagine my surprise when, in Manila, the first sound I heard was that of church bells!" Markos smiled at Catherine even as the wind blew more flowers into his hair. "And that was when I knew that everything would be all right."

Catherine smiled. "Well, we are happy, but there are still problems. We are at risk of invasion, after all." She then looked at the red dome of the Cathedral of the People. "Hou himself might invade us."

Markos pursed his lips. "Let him come. God's Wrath will arrive too."