While he mused, the fiend was equally absorbed. He selected pinches of various dried materials from the chest and dropped them into the scalding water in the clay pot. He muttered quietly to himself as he did so, a soft stream of liquid syllables.
At last he seemed satisfied. Darwin leaned over and sniffed the infusion. He shook his head again.
“It worries me. I doubt that this is any better than prancing around Jacob to ward off evil spirits. But my judgment is worthless with those drugs. Do your best, red-man.”
The other looked up at Darwin, peering from under his heavy brows. He smiled, and closed the box. The female fiend picked up the clay pot, while the red-man went to Jacob Pole and lifted him gently to a sitting position. Darwin came forward to help. Between them, they managed to get most of the hot liquid down Pole’s throat.
Darwin had thought that the female was naked except for her short skirt. At close quarters, he was intrigued to see that she also wore an elaborately carved necklace. He bent forward for a closer look at it. Then his medical interests also asserted themselves, and he ran a gentle hand along her collarbone, noting the unfamiliar curvature as it bent toward her shoulder. The woman whimpered softly and shied away from his touch.
At this, the red-man looked up from his inspection of Jacob Pole and grunted his disapproval. He gently laid Pole back on the heap of skins. Then he patted the female reassuringly on the arm, removed her necklace, and handed it to Darwin. He pointed to the red streaks on her face. She turned and went back into the tunnel, and the red-man patted his own cheek and then followed her. Darwin, mystified, was alone again with Pole. The other fiends had shown no inclination to return.
Darwin looked thoughtfully at the remains of the infusion, and listened to Pole’s deep, labored breathing. At last, he settled down on a second pile of skins, a few yards from the fire, and looked closely at the necklace he had been given. He finally put it into a pocket of his coat, and sat there, deep in speculation. One theory seemed to have been weakened by recent events.
When the red-streaked fiend returned, he had with him another female, slightly taller and heavier than the first. He grunted in greeting to Darwin and pointed to the single line of yellow ocher on her cheek. Before Darwin could rise, he had turned and slipped swiftly away again into the recesses of the dark tunnel.
The female went over to Pole, felt his brow, and tucked sheepskins around him. She listened to his breathing, then, apparently satisfied, she came and squatted down on the pile of skins, opposite Darwin. Like the other, she wore a brief skirt of sewn rabbit skins and a similar necklace, less heavy and with simpler carving. For the first time, Darwin had the chance for a leisured assessment of fiend anatomy, with adequate illumination. He leaned forward and looked at the curious variations on the familiar human theme.
“You have about the same cranial capacity, I’d judge,” he said to her quietly. She seemed reassured by his gentle voice. “But look at these supra-orbital arches—they’re heavier than human. And you have less cartilage in your nose. Hm.” He leaned forward, and ran his hand softly behind and under her ear. She shivered, but did not flinch. They sat, cross-legged, opposite each other on the piled skins.
“I don’t feel any mastoid process behind the ear,” Darwin continued. “And this jaw and cheek is odd—see the maxilla. Aye, and I know where I’ve seen that jawline recently. Splendid teeth. If only I had my Commonplace Book with me, I’d like sketches. Well, memory must suffice.”
He looked at the shoulder and rib cage and moved his index finger along them, tracing their lines. Suddenly he leaned forward and plucked something tiny from the female’s left breast. He peered at it closely with every evidence of satisfaction.
“Pulex irritans, if I’m any judge. Pity I don’t have a magnifying glass with me. Anyway, that seems to complete the proof. You know what it shows, my dear?” He looked up at the female. She stared back impassively with soft, glowing eyes. Darwin leaned forward again.
“Now, with your leave I’d like a better look at this abdominal structure. Very heavy musculature here—see how well-developed the rectus abdominis is. Ah, thank you, that makes inspection a good deal easier.” Darwin nodded absently as the female reached to her side and removed her brief skirt of rabbit skins. He traced the line of ribbed muscle tissue to the front of the pelvis. “Aye, and an odd pelvic structure, too. See this, the pubic ramus seems flattened, just at this point.” He palpated it gently.
“Here! What the devil are you doing!” Darwin suddenly sat bolt upright. The female fiend sitting before him, naked except for her ornate necklace, had reached forward to him and signalled her intentions in unmistakable terms.
“No, my dear. You mustn’t do that.”
Darwin stood up. The female stood up also. He backed away from her hurriedly. She smiled playfully and pursued him, despite his protests, round and round the fire.
“There you go, Erasmus. I turn my back on you for one second, and you’re playing ring-a-ring-a-rosy with a succubus.” Pole’s voice came from behind Darwin. It sounded cracked and rusty, like an unoiled hinge, but it was rational and humorous.
The female squeaked in surprise at the unexpected sound. She ran to the heap of furs, snatched up her skirt, and fled back into the dark opening in the wall of the ledge. Darwin, no less surprised, went over to the bed of furs where Pole lay.
“Jacob, I can’t believe it. Only an hour ago, you were running a high fever and beginning to babble of green fields.” He felt Pole’s forehead. “Back down to normal, I judge. How do you feel?”
“Not bad. Damn sight better than I did when we got out of that water. And I’m hungry. I could dine on a dead Turk.”
“We can do better than that. Just lie there.” Darwin went across to the other fire, filled a bowl with mutton stew from the big pot, and carried it back. “Get this inside you.”
Pole sniffed it suspiciously. He grunted with pleasure and began to sip at it. “Good. Needs salt, though. You seem to be on surprisingly good terms with the fiends, Erasmus. Taking their food like this, without so much as a by-your-leave. And if I hadn’t been awakened by your cavorting, you’d be playing the two-backed beast this very second with that young female.”
“Nonsense.” Darwin looked pained. “Jacob, she simply misunderstood what I was doing. And I fear the red-man mistook the nature of my interest in the other female, also. It should have been clear to you that I was examining her anatomy.”
“And she yours.” Pole smiled smugly. “A natural preliminary to swiving. Well, Erasmus, that will be a rare tale for the members of the Lunar Society if we ever get back to Lichfield.”
“Jacob—” Darwin cut off his protest when he saw the gleeful expression on Pole’s face. “Drink your broth and then rest. We have to get you strong enough to walk, if we’re ever to get out of this place. Not that we can do much on that front. I’ve no idea how to find our way back—we’ll need the assistance of the fiends, if they will agree to give it to us.”
Pole lay back and closed his eyes. “Now this really feels like a treasure hunt, Erasmus. It wouldn’t be right without the hardships. For thirty years I’ve been fly-bitten, sun-baked, wind-scoured and snow-blind. I’ve eaten food that the jackals turned their noses up at. I’ve drunk water that smelled like old bat’s-piss. And all for treasure. I tell you, we’re getting close. At least there are no crocodiles here. I almost lost my arse to one, chasing emeralds on the Ganges.”