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Suddenly he jerked his hand away. There was another rail buried just below the surface, linking the bases of the fence posts.
'Oh well, it was a good idea,' said Arnella sympathetically.
Brockwell risked a small quick smile of thanks.
The Marquis was looking up at the trees, some of which overhung the fence. 'Perhaps it would be possible to swing over on our climbing lines.'
'We could try sliding one of the rails aside; said Myra, who had been examining the nearest fence post. 'They don't seem to be secured in any way, and the slots they sit in run right through. I think I can push the end of a rail from the other side...' She thrust the end of her staff into the slot, and the rail, surprisingly light for its size, slid free and dropped to the ground. It was as easy as that.
At least Falstaff had the decency to laugh heartily. Thorrin looked put out.
With a rail removed it left a gap of almost eighty centimetres, through which they stepped carefully one by one. There was a sense of palpable relief to have the fence between them and the forest.
'I think we should replace this section,' said the Marquis, once they were all safely through. 'Should those criminals come this way it may slow them down.'
'I shouldn't think it will make much difference; said Thorrin, with a touch of his former self-a.s.surance. They must be far behind us by now.'
'Don't underestimate Qwaid.' Myra said sharply. 'He might not have Alpha's brains, but he's determined. And if he's forced the Doctor to help him he might not be short of brains either.'
'I bow to your superior knowledge of the mental processes of the underworld,' said Thorrin heavily. 'By all means replace it.
But then can we please proceed?'
They gingerly edged the rail back in place by lifting it with their staffs. Then they set off across the open rocky plain, leaving the dark line of the dead forest, and all its nightmares, behind them.
As they plodded across the rocky wasteland, Willis Brockwell dropped back until he was walking beside Myra. 'I'm sorry about the professor,' he said quietly.
'What do you mean?'
'The way he spoke to you back there. It wasn't like him. I know, I've worked with him for years. I mean he can be short tempered and a bit overbearing at times, but he usually apologises for it afterwards. It's this quest business. He's become... well, fixated on finding this cursed treasure. I never thought money would have that sort of effect on him. He's made enough of it already after all.'
'Well, you never can tell what touches people that way. Like the Marquis, for instance.'
'Yes. What did he mean by "cruel... but necessary"?'
'I don't know. I don't think either of them are telling the whole truth about what they're doing here.' She looked at Arnella, trudging along beside her uncle with her head down. 'She may know half of it, and perhaps that's what's troubling her - which I suppose doesn't make you any too happy either.'
Brockwell nodded regretfully. 'I wish she'd talk to me... but she's got her pride.'
'Haven't we all? And then of course I know even less about 'Sir John Falstaff" over there, and that bothers me intensely as well.'
'Still, I suppose that makes us the only two relatively uncomplicated people here right now, Inspector.'
She looked at him coolly. 'We'll have to see, won't we? Fear, greed, and the prospect of coming into a fortune like Rowan's treasure sometimes do strange things - even to the most uncomplicated of people.'
They topped a slight rise in the ground, and they heard Thorrin exclaim, 'What on earth is this?'
CHAPTER 19.
BLOODLINE.
Red made a final bound and landed on the gra.s.sy fringe that bordered the far side of the tiled plain. The saddle back straightened and the pocket stirrups released Peri. She slid stiffly to the ground, ma.s.saging her aching back and thighs.
'That was some ride,' she admitted. 'Can't you give a girl some warning when you're going to pull a stunt like that?'
Red contrived a look of puppylike sorrow.
'Oh, all right. I didn't mean it like that,' she said, petting him and feeding him another meat bar from her pack. 'We must have crossed five times faster than on foot, which is quite a bonus.
Now let's have a look through here...'
With Red padding along behind her, she made her way through the miniature jungle of fern trees until they came to the edge of the valley. Even the high sun had failed to disperse the mist blanket, and it remained unbroken except for the few crowns of the tallest trees close to the terraced steps. A series of deep honking cries floated up to her, followed by a throaty roar, which made her shiver.
'The boys and girls are still at their fun and games I guess.' she said, trying to sound offhand. 'From what I heard over Gribbs's radio, there're some berries that repel the things down there, only I don't know if it'll work for you as well. It's OK for me to take the risk, but it's unfair to put you on the spot.'
Red tossed his head and gave a defiant snort.
'All right, so you can lick anybody twice your size. But then there's that lake to cross, which means I'd have to build a raft, which might take some time. And the trick stairs. Will you be able to get up them?' She pursed her lips and looked along the misty valley thoughtfully. 'Well, there's nothing to say we can't try another way, as long as we meet up with the Doctor somewhere on the far side. They didn't have time to explore, but I can cover a whole lot more ground on you. Let's try some lateral thinking and check out the side of the valley first.'
She remounted and Red turned his head to the right, setting off in a long loping stride along the valley rim.
Dynes ate a pack meal without taking his eyes off the monitor screens, following it down with a couple of stimtabs. No time for sleep, now that his instincts told him things were starting to build towards a climax.
He'd sent replacement DAVE units at top speed to the last recorded positions of their predecessors in the hope of re-establishing contact with his subjects. Even now they were searching the dead forest. He had lost Peri completely, and could only hope he might find her by chance. Via a DAVE he'd investigated the pseudo-meteor crater and had followed tracks to the Falcon Falcon. He had no idea what they signified, or if Gribbs was back inside the ship, but he was running short of drones and couldn't afford to leave one there on the off chance.
Now he could only wait and see.
The rocky plain was cut through the middle by a deep river gorge, on the far side of which they could see cool and inviting green trees and stretches of open gra.s.sland. The gorge itself, however, was more forbidding, and quite unlike anything Myra had ever seen before.
'They certainly do go in for some impressive feats of engineering,' Brockwell observed, raising his voice over the roar of the waters.
'If they hope to overawe us, they are wasting their time,' said Thorrin firmly. 'It's simply another challenge.'
The river ran white and foaming some twenty metres below the level of the plain. This was partly due to the fall along its course, and partly to the turbulence generated by its banks, which resembled nothing less than two sets of interlocking saw teeth.
The teeth were made of stretches eleven or twelve metres long, Myra estimated, which then turned a precise right angle, zigzagging in and out alternately, so that the sheer-cut sides on the opposite banks exactly paralleled each other. At no point did they come any closer than the same eleven or twelve metres. The remarkable construction stretched away into the distance on either side of them, without a bridge in sight. The river banks for fifty metres back were quite smooth, with not a single place where a grapnel might take hold.
'We either set off along the bank until its nature changes, or work out a method of crossing where we are,' said the Marquis.
'Even if I went into the water and had a line to keep me from being carried away, I couldn't climb up the other side,' said Myra.
'We've got some climbing gear with us,' said Brockwell. You might be able to manage with that.'
'Enough for twenty metres of sheer smooth rock?' she kicked the planed stone bank. 'And bet this is hard stuff. They won't make it easy for us.'
'Old Jack is no spider,' said Falstaff. 'He does not swing across perilous, chasms on threads of gossamer secured by pins.'
Thorrin, who had been scowling at the scene before him in silence for some minutes. Then slowly began pacing along one of the angles of the bank. Then he took out a stylus and notepad, sketched something rapidly, and gave a satisfied smile. 'I have solved the problem,' he announced. 'We shall need some sections of that post rail from the edge of the forest.'
'Excuse me, Professor,' said Brockwell. 'They might be strong enough, but I'd say they'll be almost a metre too short to reach across.'
'Of course, we can bind two lengths together,' said the Marquis.
But... won't those razor edges cut the cord?'
'No, there is no need to waste time tying anything together,'
said Thorrin. 'It's simply a matter of elementary geometry. A childish puzzle. Just bring the rails and you will see.'
The Doctor was examining the fence with interest, while Qwaid angrily applied first aid to Drorgon's hands.
'Now do you see why I brought him along?' he said. 'Next time don't try smashing anything down until I tell you.'
'Sorry, Qwaid,' Drorgon rumbled. He looked up through the fence across the plain. 'We got company.'
They remained motionless as Brockwell and Jaharnus appeared over a slight rise. They approached the fence a little way to one side of them, carefully removed four of the long rail sections, then set off back across the plain, dragging their acquisitions carefully behind them by their flat ends.
'Now I wonder what they need those for,' said the Doctor.
They made their way along to the gap in the fence and stepped through. As they did so there was a hum and swish in the air and a DAVE unit flew past them and vanished over the skyline, while a second came to a halt a few metres away, lenses gleaming.
'I thought we'd seen the last of them,' Qwaid groaned. 'You want me to blast it again, Qwaid?' said Drorgon eagerly, hefting his cannon.
'Cruckbrain! We don't want to let them ahead know we're here.
'Just ignore it and keep moving.'
They progressed slowly, so as not to run into Thorrin's party.
Eventually they crested the low rise and saw the strangely symmetrical gorge cutting across the plain. On its far side Thorrin's party could be seen heading towards a line of trees and green fields. Qwaid waited until they had disappeared, then they made their way down to the edge of the river.
'Ah, so that's what they wanted those lengths of fencing for,'
said the Doctor.
Two sections of railing had been laid side by side across the V-shaped s.p.a.ce between two of the gorge's teeth, as far out as they would span. The two others had been laid side by side from the centres of the first two out across the river to the tip of the projecting bank opposite, forming an inverted T.
'An instant footbridge. Those of a specially nervous disposition can even shuffle across on hands and knees.' the Doctor said. He looked at the ends of the fence rails where they rested on the edges of the bank, then at Qwaid. 'You might notice that they serve their purpose with barely a handsbreadth to spare, which can hardly be coincidental.'
'All right, so we're playing the locals' games to give them material for their mind studies or whatever.' Qwaid said. 'So what? As long as I get what I came here for, they're welcome to whatever they can learn from my mind.
'And I'm sure they'll find it a most interesting study.' the Doctor said sincerely. 'But all this effort and planning would go to waste if too many people succeed in reaching the treasure. Either it has been removed piecemeal years ago, or else there's a catch to the whole business.'
'No, it's here,' Qwaid said pa.s.sionately. 'I can practically taste it! Your job is to get me to it, that's all. If they try any null moves after that, then it'll be the time to start worrying.'
They cautiously crossed the improvised bridge and walked on.
Straggling brush and stunted trees gave way to more substantial growths. Soon they came to a simple rustic fence surrounding a field filled with rows of low leafy plants with spreading leaves and purple heads. In a more distant field small figures could be seen harvesting what might have been wheat.
They came to a lane rutted by cartwheels and shaded by tall trees hung with small spiky blue pods. As there was no one else in sight they started down it.
'Are these more seekers, or locals?' Qwaid wondered.
'I've no idea,' the Doctor admitted. 'But it does seem remarkably peaceful and well established.' The hedge on the other side of the lane was overhung by the trees of an orchard, heavy with tempting multicoloured fruit. As they pa.s.sed, Drorgon reached up and picked a few, sniffing them appreciatively.
'Forget that and keep your eyes open,' said Qwaid. Drorgon scowled and put the fruits in his pack.
High roofs showed over the hedgerows, and they were soon pa.s.sing between wooden buildings whose large double doors and cavernous interiors revealed themselves to be barns. Beyond them came the the first of a row of small houses, with glazed windows, shingled roofs and rough stone walls. Qwaid hesitated, then led them into the nearest barn. It was dusty and warm, a third full of the local equivalent of hay, with an upper loft reached by a rough ladder. They climbed this and found a platform with a loading door and pulley block. Qwaid peered through the cracks between the loose-fitting door and its frame.
He could see over the roofs of the nearest houses to some sort of village square. Outside one of the larger buildings were several chairs and tables, seated at which were a handful of people.
Facing them was Thorrin's party. After a few minutes of apparently amicable conversation, Thorrin led the others into the building, their DAVE unit following.
Qwaid settled back on a pile of straw 'Couldn't be better. Now we wait and see how they get on. Pa.s.s us one of those apple things, Dro.'
The building was the public meeting house and sole hostelry of Braal, the largest settlement in the Country of the Enlightened - as the villagers seated outside had proudly explained.
'Why, 'tis a cousin of the old Boar's Head,' said Falstaff.
It was the sort of room Myra had seen only in historical reconstructions. Cl.u.s.ters of timeworn trestle tables and chairs ringed a room ceilinged by smoke-blackened beams. Though be day was warm, a large fire blazed in the brick-backed hearth.
Above a stained counter rows of tankards hung on hooks over several differently sized casks resting on their sides on blocks.
From a room beyond came the aroma of cooking. No doubt it was crude fare prepared in unhygienic conditions, but after a few days eating only ration bars it smelled very enticing.
A fat Torkein man was tending the bar. He gave their DAVE a curious glance then waddled over to them; his lower pair of arms were still busy wiping a cup with a towel, but he made a friendly gesture of welcome with his upper limbs.
'How can I be of service, ladies and gentlebeings?'
'One of the men outside said you served food and drink,' said Thorrin. 'But I don't suppose you accept stellars or credit charges?'