"What do you mean: ‘What the world will do to me'?"
"He didn't think you could possibly be man enough to...” Creighton shivered. “Look, you haven't any alternative now, have you? Trust me! When you get to Olympus we'll give you the whole story from beginning to—"
The silence of the night exploded in noise. Something enormous roared nearby, the sound merging into the pony's scream of terror. Billy howled curses as the dogcart rattled and jangled away into the distance, taking him with it and leaving the two men stranded, naked, on Salisbury Plain.
"What in the name of Jehoshaphat was that?” Creighton demanded, staring into the darkness.
The hair on Edward's neck was rising. “That was a lion!"
"No!"
"Oh yes it was! That's the grunt they use to scare their prey when they're hunting. How do lions get to Stonehenge, Colonel?"
"Ask rather what they eat at Stonehenge. Let's try the key again, shall we? And this time it had better work."
Edward thought he agreed with that. He had heard lions often enough, but never so horribly close. That fence would never stop a hungry lion, and there was a gap in it now anyway.
"Ready?” said Creighton. “One—Two—Three..."
Affalino kaspik ... The drumbeats throbbed. Arms and legs waved—even head movements were supposedly important, and he kept wanting to watch the wall of trilithons, to see what might be coming through. To look for green eyes in the night.
The moon sailed into a cloud and died.
Half the beat stopped as if cut off by a guillotine, and so did Creighton's voice. His drum bounced and rolled away on the grass. Edward stumbled to a halt. He was alone.
45
IT BEGAN AS A FAINT SIGH IN THE DISTANCE. IT CAME closer. It was a rushing of wind through the trees and soon seemed all around, everywhere but where Eleal lay in the darkness. At last it arrived and the leaves stirred. Boughs creaked, thrashed. Gradually it faded, traveling on, and the night stilled. Trumb shone unchallenged in a cloudless sky, drowning out the stars with his baleful splendor.
She shivered, wondering what god had sent that wind sign. She was cramped and cold. She flexed herself, one limb at a time, frightened of making any noise among the trash of leaves and branches that covered the steps. She had no idea how long she had been lying there, too tense even to doze. Her neck was appallingly stiff.
Her eyes were still insisting that there was a reaper on the far side of the court. It could not be just a trick of the light, for the big moon had moved a long way since she arrived, and was very bright. It must be a tree stump, perhaps a dead sapling coated in ivy. No man could stand for so many hours like that.
Trumb must eclipse soon! There had been a hint of shadow on one side of his disk when he rose, but now it was a perfect circle and that meant...
A scream rent the silence of the night and a man rolled to the paving only a few yards from her. His limbs flailed and he cried out again. Her hair rose. Where had he come from?
Naked, a grown man—this must be the Liberator! He sounded as he was in terrible pain. She started to rise and then stopped, hearing feet slap on stone. Another man came running out of the darkness on her right, and then a second from the left.
The first was T'lin—big, and heavily bearded, and wearing a black turban that barely showed in the moonlight, so that the top half of his head seemed to be missing. He carried a bundle. And the other was the lanky Thargian, drawing a sword and looking around as he ran.
Huh! Well if those two were here, they could attend to all the washing and nursing required. Eleal's services were not needed, not wanted. She could have enjoyed a good night's rest instead.
The Liberator's cries of pain had faded to grunts and moans. He retched and vomited, then groaned again.
"You, sir!” the Thargian exclaimed. “We expected someone else.” He knelt, and helped the man sit up.
T'lin stayed standing, peering around warily at the darkness with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Gover?” The Liberator retched again, and doubled up as if cramped—except that the Thargian had implied that this was not the Liberator. “Good to see you."
"We should leave!” T'lin growled.
"Calm down, Seventy-seven!” the Thargian snapped. “If there was anyone out there, they'd be all over us by now."
"Yes, but—"
"Just wait a minute! Can't you see the man's in pain? Bad crossing, sir?"
The reply was a suppressed bubbling shriek from the newcomer, as another spasm took him. The Thargian put an arm around his shoulders and cradled his head like a child's.
"All right, Kriiton,” he muttered. “You're among friends. It'll pass."
The comforting seemed to help. In a moment Kriiton muttered, “Thanks!” and pushed himself free. “Where's Kisster?” He looked around. “God Almighty! He ... He didn't make it?"
"No sign of anyone else, sir."
The reply was lost in another groan, another spasm of cramps. Again the Thargian cuddled the sufferer, and again the physical comforting seemed to ease the pain.
The men were fading! Eleal tore her eyes away and looked up in sudden terror. Trumb was well into eclipse already. Darkness raced over the great disk.
"Gotta go back ‘n get'm!” Kriiton mumbled.
"You're in no state for another crossing, sir! It would kill you! We've got no key for it anyway, not that I know of."
"Where is this?"
"The Sacrarium at Ruatvil."
Kriiton sighed. The others were almost invisible now; his bare skin showed up better. “In Sussland! So it should have worked! Let's hope he keeps trying!"
"First time is hardest sometimes, isn't it?” the Thargian said.
The Kriiton man suppressed a groan, as if he was being racked by more cramps. “Can be. Maiden voyage. Trouble is, the opposition was moving in on us."
Trumb had dwindled to a thin line, a sword cut in the sky. The darkened disk was faintly visible, black against the reborn stars.
"Opposition may move in here, too, sir,” the Thargian said. “Seventy-seven's right. We ought to go, soon as you're ready. Damned moon'll be back in a minute. We've brought some clothes so let's get you up now and—"
T'lin uttered a yell of warning. Another figure had entered the darkened courtyard, gliding swiftly over the ancient stones, black and infinitely menacing. Eleal thought of flight, her limbs twitched uncertainly, and then she just froze, like a small animal facing a large predator. Dolm had been able to see in the dark!
"Up!” Kriiton yelled. “Get me up!"
The other two grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. Trumb's final crescent had gone. Starlight flashed as the Thargian brandished his sword in the reaper's face.
The reaper stopped just out of reach and chuckled. “You expect to block me with that, Gover Envoy?” That was not Dolm Actor's voice! Eleal was too terrified to move an eyelid, barely even to think, but she knew that was not Dolm's voice she was hearing.
The Thargian cried out and his sword clanged to the ground.
"Don't fandangle with me, Reaper!” Kriiton croaked. He was leaning hard on T'lin's shoulder, as if unable to straighten properly. “Go now and I'll spare you."
"But I will not spare you! Prepare to meet the Last Victor."
The men were half-seen shapes in the faint gleam of stars. Trumb's disk was a round black hole in the stars, the moon of Zath. The reaper stretched forth his hand and took a step forward.
Flash! Thunder!
Ruins and jungle jumped out of the night and then vanished again.