 
### The Cycle of Life

Part 2

### The Sali Vorden Affair

By Hannah Jade Robinson

Copyright 2014 by H J Robinson

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All characters in this publication are fictitious

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Chapter 1

### Death in the Dark

The fierce heat of summer was fading at last, and life was getting back to normal in Spangerland after the traumatic and bloody turmoil of the last year and a half. The nameless god in Central had turned out to be an alien, and had been killed by Denny Sazgood aka the Dark Angel, with the vampire sword at Ashers farm, but it lived on in Denny's care, in the apparently vacant mind and body of Betty Tighe.

Hood, who had been revered by the Homesteaders, had finally returned to Earth as foretold but was in fact an asteroid mining spaceship from the 23rd century, and not the benevolent deity they had been expecting. All Spangerland now worshipped the Lady of the Night, except for the remnants of Hood's crew, survivors of the alien war, who still clung to their outdated Christian beliefs.

While it was true that Hood was now a sentient being, she acted very strangely at the best of times and was even now somewhere below the surface of the Mediterranean, looking for a derelict alien space craft, which was thought to be a time machine. It was very confusing for the village girls to comprehend what was happening, but Hood was still orbiting the moon inside a collection of alien and earthly junk, left over from the unsuccessful alien invasion, and also under the ocean in a different form. What that form was, no one knew, as Hood had finished rebuilding itself on Valencia's airport runway while the battle of Asher's farm was being fought, and there were no witnesses to it's departure. The seven surviving companions who had been in Hood's crew 2000 years ago had surmised that it was probably a sort of submarine now. For the six male miners (who were now the only men in the known world) and their two female commanders, those 2000 years had been shrunk to just two by Denny and Caren's time machine, called the Never Look Back, but time travel was now impossible, because Never had been destroyed on 'the day of judgement' by Hood's crazy sister ship, Hind. Hood's programmer, Gudrun, and three villagers had also met their end because of Hind's last missile, which was a bit of a glitch in the time-space theories which would be (had been) expounded by Caren's father, because Gudrun was the mystery hacker who had hijacked Never in the first place. But she was now dead, and the hijacking hadn't occurred yet. It was a very confusing place and time, here in the cycle of life. What had already happened had not really taken place yet, and what was going to be, had already been and gone. I think? It probably depended on where you were standing when you looked at it.

Relatively speaking

"No Ma, can't really remember my gran," Sali said quietly. Being all of sixteen now, she thought that she had a right to determine her own future and didn't want to be here, being lectured by Homestead's crotchety old guru, even if there were honey cakes and a jug of strangely coloured milk laid out on the tartan blanket they were sitting on.

Homestead's guru, Constance Nesbitt turned her head slowly, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the afternoon. She had brought Sali on a private picnic to explain, as best she could, the changes that Sali was going through.

"It all started at Ashers farm," Connie began. "After the battle, them stupid dogs had their hands on you, carrying you round like some trophy they'd won at the Spring fair, and there's you not yet old enough to mix with them." She paused and took a sip of the fruity milk mixture that Simon had made for them in the Vine's kitchen. She licked her lips in appreciation.

"Lovely. Don't know why we didn't think of this before Simon came here." She paused, "have another cake deary. Growing girls got to eat proper. Anyway, I reckon the dogs passed the..." she paused again as she used the foreign word that Margaret had taught her, "...virus on to you before your time. Reckon that's why your head's not right."

"But It's not my fault Ma, and it's not fair. I don't want to leave home."

"Hush child. It won't be forever, and when you can properly control this gift of casting that you've been given, then me and the others will be able to see again, and you can come back here and be as welcome as ever." These were Connie's words, but she was thinking, _'probably never see you again.'_ and, _'you'll be somebody else's problem now.'_

"But I don't want to be a caster." She spat out the despised word. "I want to be normal." She nearly added, 'like Tanya,' but remembered in time that Tanya Vine wasn't really a normal girl either.

"Tanya Vine's going back to Ibis, after you and her have done a little job for me, and you'll be going to live with her. You'll be alright over there. There's no gurus West of Guardian's Nest."

Sali's lips pouted as she thought of moving. Ibis was at least three days walk away. Practically the other end of the world. "Still not fair. Never see my mum again."

Connie sighed. She was going to have to do it the hard way. "See the river there? Pretty sight isn't it? Water tumbling over the rocks, fish splashing in the pools, birds singing in the trees. Us sitting on the grass with the sun warming our backs."

Sali looked up in surprise at the unexpected change in the conversation. For a moment, the only sounds were as Connie had described. Then the old guru (seer, witch, call her what you will) spoke again, and her voice took on a different tone. "Ever wondered why none of the old folk come here, when it's so beautiful?"

Sali shook her head.

"Wasn't like this forty years ago. Last time I was here it was night time. Only the moonlight and torches to see by. Your gran and her sister were here too, and your mum, who was only a baby at the time." She stared across the river, a far away look in her eyes. "Thirteen of my friends were here as well." There was a long pause. "Only fourteen of us got back to Homestead," she added softly.

A stray cloud drifted across the face of the sun, and the breeze seemed to be a little cooler. Sali shivered.

"Look at me Sali."

"Don't want to."

"Look at me."

"NO." Sali used the voice of command she had found and used on Jade the archer.

"Think that'll work with me, do you missy?" She reached down into her soul and reluctantly called on the power she had kept hidden and refused to use since that dark night. "LOOK AT ME SALI VORDEN"

Sali was forced to look up and her eyes were fixed onto Connie's, and in her mind she was dragged, kicking and screaming back forty years, to when Homestead's last caster had gone bad on them.

Suddenly it was dark, and people in the distance were shouting. From sunshine to darkness, from tranquillity to chaos. Sali listened, but couldn't make out the words, could make no sense of what was happening. Just over the boundary fence, she could see the flickering glow of a large fire lighting up the cottages. She was outside the village then?

"Ma Nesbitt?" She whispered. There was no immediate answer, but someone grabbed her by the shoulder. She gave a yelp and turned round quickly, shrugging off the hand.

"Steady Connie," somebody whispered, "it's only me."

Sali gaped at the speaker. Although it was dark the flickering light showed her a very familiar face. "What?"

"Time to go. You've got to come with us. You promised to be with us."

"Yeh," Sali gasped, wondering what she was getting into. "I'm coming."

The girl spoke louder, "where is she now?"

Another answered her. "Val said she was heading North, said she'd try to stay with her."

"Good. Round up the others Ginny, and me and Connie will catch up with Val. OK?"

"No problemo, Quincy," and with that the girl slid away, a dark shadow in the dark night.

Sali's mind was reeling and she rubbed her forehead. "So you're Quincy...?" she couldn't grasp the enormity of what she was seeing and hearing.

"Don't go stupid on us Constance Nesbitt, we need clear heads tonight. She killed your mum, sure as eggs is eggs, so keep her out. Fight her."

"And that girl, she was Ginny... Brand?"

The girl called Quincy moved quickly, and grabbing Sali-Connie's left wrist, slapped her hard across the face bringing tears to her eyes. "Ginny Brand, Quincy Oates and Val Tomson, who shouldn't be here at her age. But we're desperate now, you should know that. Pull yourself together or you'll end up like your mum. Dead." As soon as she said it, she was sorry, and threw her arms round the confused girl, pulling her close. "Come on Connie, we've got to do it. She runs rings round the grown ups somehow and there's only us youngsters able to get near her."

As they went slowly Northward, away from the fence, someone in Homestead started beating the great wooden drum on the chapel roof and the shouting got suddenly louder.

Quincy glanced briefly over her shoulder. "Bloody idiots," she whispered. "No telling what the old witch'll get 'em doing next."

Sali didn't answer, couldn't answer. It felt like her head was pounding in time with the dull thuds from the great drum behind them. Suddenly it was as if she was looking at the world through a crooked mirror. She fell to her knees and clasped her hands to her ears.

"Fight it Connie, keep her out," hissed Quincy and dragged her to her feet. Sali was dumb and could only watch where Connie's eyes were directed.

"Bitch!" Connie spat out the word. "She's in my head, Quincy. But she'll not get the better of me."

"Atta girl, keep going," Quincy replied. "Remember your ma."

Connie's eyes briefly took on a puzzled look. "Ma Nesbitt," she whispered.

"Ma Nesbitt," echoed Sali, inside her mind.

They continued along the path in the feeble light of the rising moon, until they were stopped by Val, who reached out and grabbed Quincy's arm.

"Gods girl," she gasped. "I nearly messed myself."

"Shhhh!" hissed Val. "They're just ahead, by the river.

"Them?" Queried Connie. "Who's them?"

"Old Pru's got her sister Marta and little Wandra. No knowing what she's up to."

Sali was crying silently inside Connie's mind. "Mum," she sobbed. "Oh mum."

Connie shook her head before rubbing hard at her eyes. "Save the baby," she said slowly and quietly.

It was Quincy's turn to frown. "Better they all die," she snarled. "Get rid of all the Vordens. Now."

"No!" Connie was definite in her reply. "Baby dies. We all die. I can see it."

Her two companions stood and gaped. Was little Constance Nesbitt turning guru already? There was no time for comment as they were joined by eleven more young Homestead girls. At Quincy's command, they spread out left and right, and after counting to fifty, Val Tomson started screaming for all she was worth.

On hearing the hastily arranged signal, the other thirteen started running forward, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and determination, each of them clutching clubs, knives and stones in nervous fingers and screaming like banshees.

"HA!!!" Prudence's exclamation was like the crack of a whip and silence returned again. "You've done well girls, but throwing stones will do you no good." She turned slowly on the spot, her left arm extended and pointing to each of the girls in turn.

"I know you all, I know your names. Fourteen virgins trying to behave like grown ups."

Try as she might, Connie couldn't move and Sali looked on in horror as her grandmother stepped into the river, cradling her baby in her arms. "Do something," she said, and Connie heard her voice as a distant echo, but was powerless.

Prudence laughed at the sight of the helpless girls. "Come for a fight have you? Then fight!" She wiggled her fingers at the six girls on Connie's right, Quincy, Jane, Amelia, Samantha, Brenda and Louisa. They turned towards each other, and slowly but surely, closed together then started to flail and kick out. Their slow motion fight was almost silent and nearly comical, but was every bit as vicious as if they were willing opponents.

"I know your names and I know your games, and I hold you in the palm of my hand." She turned to her sister, "Deeper bitch. Drown the brat, then nothing can stop me."

Sali screamed and forced her way through Connie's mental defences. "NO!!"

The surprised caster spun round, eyes wide open with the shock of the girls defiance.

"Constance Amelia Nesbitt, I know your name. BE SILENT, or I'll make you suffer."

"Try and make me, hag," retorted Sali angrily, growing in confidence.

Prudence ignored the scuffling girls on the dark river bank, and raised both hands towards Sali, chanting softly as she did so. The darkness grew deeper around her as she drew on some awful power, and finally she spoke plainly. "Constance Nesbitt slowly die. Let your blood congeal, let your fingers and toes fall away. Let the flesh drop from your bones and let the worms eat away your insides. May you rot away all alone and unloved."

Sali felt the curse wash over her, but it wasn't aimed at her, but at the absent Connie, so she was unaffected by it and the darkness was gone. She folded her arms and stared right back into the casters widening eyes.

"Tut tut, Prudence," she admonished her great aunt. "Is that the best you can do?"

"AAAAH!!" screamed Prudence. "Not possible. Why aren't you dying?"

Sali laughed at her. "Fourteen virgins you know by name? I think not. We are fifteen and you do not know me, but I know you and it's my turn now."

Prudence turned quickly and waved at the other girls. "Take her, kill her," she yelled, and some of them moved reluctantly in Sali's direction.

Sali shook her head slowly. "Bad Prudence, naughty Prudence. Time to end it." It was her turn to wave at the confused girls and they turned towards the caster.

"Can't hurt me girl, whoever you are. That's not my given name." She giggled shrilly. "No name, no game," and her insane laughter rang round the dark woods.

It was Sali's turn to be worried. 'Name, name, what's her name,' she thought, but try as she might she could not remember her mad relation ever being mentioned.

In the river's centre, Marta stood holding her baby Wandra, Sali's future mother, and the emotional turmoil was plain upon her face. At last, she forced the one word past her unfeeling lips. "Prunella," she whispered, then louder, "Prunella, PRUNELLA."

Sali shouted in triumph. "Prunella Vorden, I know you now, but I'm not of your world and you know me not." Sali growled out the last few words and her murderous relation screamed in frustration and fury.

"NO!!" she cried, "it's mine, all mine. Only I have the power. I am a god."

"Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, you must die for Homestead's good. Prunella Vorden, YOU HAVE NO POWER." She took a deep breath. "Ladies," she said with grim determination, "do your duty."

It wasn't quick, and it certainly wasn't easy. Prudence was bigger and stronger than most of the girls, and fought viciously. She was fighting for her life.

Quincy and the other five were still out of it, devastated by the things they had done at the casters command and Jane was dead, strangled by Louisa who lay sobbing on the grass by her friend's body.

Sali stood on the river bank, in Connie's body, arms stretched out, eyes half closed in concentration, holding a blanket of confusion over Prudence so that she couldn't use the power. The other seven girls managed to overcome her and eventually it was finished, but only six of them waded out of the river. The lifeless bodies of Prudence and Jackie Snowdrop bumped gently together against the rocks.

Ginny Brand put her cold wet hands on Sali-Connie's shoulders. "It's over," she said, peering anxiously into Connie's staring eyes. There was no response so she called louder, "Connie, she's gone."

The roaring in Sali's ears became unbearable and she finally fainted, then Connie's hysterical screams rent the air and all the creatures of the dark wood screamed with her.

Sali woke to the sound of water bubbling over the rocks and birds singing in the trees again. She opened her eyes to see the afternoon sunshine and found that she was lying on the blanket with her head in Ma Nesbitt's lap. Connie was stroking her hair, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh Sali love. Didn't mean that to happen, only meant to show you," she said sorrowfully. "All these years, and I never knew it was you there with me that night. Can you forgive me?"

Sali smiled up at her. "Good, weren't we Connie?" she whispered. "We surprised her more than we surprised each other I guess."

The old guru smiled at last. "Connie now, is it, young madam?"

"We were one back then Connie, no secrets now. Die alone and unloved? No chance of that. I love you. I am you, and you're me. Oh!" She paused, struggling with a sudden thought. "I gave you your powers didn't I?"

Connie nodded and smiled. "Looks that way Sali love. I became guru that night."

Sali sighed and turned her head to look again at the water. "I'm going with Tanya like you want. No choice really, I know that, but one day," she licked her dry lips. "One day, Constance Nesbitt, you and me are going to rule the world." She looked back into Connie's eyes and a strange smile crept into the corners of her mouth. "I can _see_ it."

Chapter 2

### Sali goes West

"Can't believe that this is really happening," sighed Sali as she trudged along the ill defined trail close behind Tanya. "Two days wandering round the campo like lost sheep and not a sign of those stupid bloody dogs anywhere. Not to mention two nights sleeping rough." She grimaced at the memory of the last two nights, when instead of sleeping peacefully, she had laid awake most of the time, listening to the creatures of the night shift calling to each other. "Don't know how you managed to sleep Tanya Vine, it's not natural the way you can sleep anywhere."

Tanya smiled at her disconsolate and tired friend, and decided to duck the issue of _'unnatural abilities'_. "Told you to have some of that cider our mum gave us, didn't I? That would have helped you to sleep."

"Hah!" Sali exclaimed. "Fat chance of that with you three gulping it down like you was in a race."

Tanya put on a hurt expression. "I thought we were behaving in a most polite manner. Wiping the bottle before passing it on and all that."

"Yeh," retorted Sal. "And when you remembered I was on look out up that awful tree, and passed it to me, it had nearly all gone."

Tanya waved away Sali's protest, "anyway, look on the bright side Sal, next week, this will all be in the past and it won't matter. We'll be safe at Toogood farm, and you'll be free to do whatever you want. Within reason of course."

"Can't believe that yet either," replied Sali, "always somebody bossing us about. Go here, go there, do this, don't do that."

Tanya smiled and put on her best _'trust me'_ face, and put her arm round Sali's shoulder. "Those days are gone, sweetheart. It's my farm. I'm Prima, Pan's my priestess and you're our guru. You'll be the best ever, and Toogood farm is like paradise." She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "There's no goats."

Sali smiled at last. "Remember that day we were trying to catch Topper? Thought Sasha would be limping for a month, the way he put his horns up her backside."

Tanya laughed at the mental image conjured up. "He was only playing with her. If he had meant it, she would still be in bed."

Sali nodded wisely, "serious business messing about with goats."

It was Tanya's turn to pull a wry face, as she thought of Gretagast, the alien goat creature who had tried to educate her. "Don't I know it Sal, don't I know it."

They walked on in silence for a while and Tanya shifted her pack to the other shoulder. "Only about another hour or so, then we'll be there."

"Mmmm, hot food and a proper bed," said Sali dreamily.

"Mmmm, hot food, a proper bed and a hot bath," replied Tanya.

"What?" Sali was aghast. "A bath? An actual bath? You cannot be serious." Her face was a picture of undisguised horror. "I had a proper wash the day before we left, I can't have another yet. It's not healthy." They had stopped walking and she stared into Tanya's eyes for signs that it was just a joke. "You mean it don't you? You really mean it."

Tanya's eyes twinkled as she laughed at Sali's forlorn expression. "We're going West Sal, and you'll see that once we're past the Nest, it's a different world out there. We can't be country yokels any more, we've got to be civilized. And besides..." her voice trailed off, and as she hesitated Sali butted in.

"Besides what, Tanya Vine?" she demanded.

"There's Marco."

Sali shrugged her shoulders to show her bewilderment. "So?"

"He won't want you if you smell like bad eggs and scratch at your flea bites all the time."

"I don't scratch!" squealed Sali as she quickly pulled her hand from beneath her dirty shirt. Then her eyes grew wider as Tanya's words registered at last. "Want me? WANT ME? What do mean, want me?"

"Well you know," said Tanya hesitantly, "if you don't smell right, he won't want you sharing his bed at night."

"BED?" Sali's eyes were virtually popping out of her head now. "But he's a man. Why would I want to share a bed with a man?"

So Tanya told her.

The past will always catch up with you

Tanya and Sali hadn't left Homestead alone. Their search for the wardogs had been in the company of Denny Sazgood and Robin the alien, who was still in Betty's body. After a day and a half of fruitless wandering and getting on each other's nerves, they had agreed to split up. While Tan and Sal headed West, Denny and Robin turned South again towards Homestead.

They were nearly there when it happened. The only memorable event in a three day journey.

"It's not as if the dogs matter now anyway." Denny was talking as much for her own sake as for making polite conversation. "Not to me and Caren. House of Sazgood has already started, thanks to Joannie, and Cas doesn't need the wardogs, does she?"

There was no answer, so she glanced over her shoulder. There was no Robin either. Stopping and turning round, she spotted her absent companion.

She couldn't regard her as a 'friend', not after originally killing her in her previous squirming, tentacled form. Robin was lying prone at the side of the trail, thirty metres back, her head bobbing up and down slightly as she tried to see something without being seen herself.

Denny crouched down and peered intently in the same direction as Robin, but saw nothing unusual. "What the hells is she doing?" she muttered to herself. Then deciding to be careful rather than sorry, crept cautiously back to Robin's side.

"Robin," she hissed.

Robin's hand shot out and she grasped Denny's arm in a vice like grip. She turned to Denny and the fear was plain in her eyes. "They're here," she whispered.

Denny managed to prise Robin's fingers loose and she massaged her numb arm. "Who? What?"

"Them," was the short reply, and she indicated toward the field over the fence with a nod of her head.

"There's nobody there Robin," Denny insisted. "Nobody alive anyway. Look." It was her turn to nod her head, and it was in the direction of the faded board with it's dire warning. There was a stylised death's head with the words 'PELIGRO - MINAS' beneath it. "It's the old minefield. Nobody's allowed in there, everybody knows that."

Robin wasn't any happier, and dragged Denny sideways a little and pointed. There was a white patch, which looked like an animal skull, with horns. "Look, it's a Horner. Evil bastards. We've been at war with them for centuries."

"But it's dead. There's only a skeleton out there."

"You don't understand." Robin was agitated and insistent. "They always come in threes and if one's dead, no telling what the other two will do."

Denny got back to her feet, brushing the dirt from her knees. "Oh for Lady's sake, pull yourself together. You're not a snakehead now, you're human. They won't even look twice at you."

"But you don't know them." Robin was close to tears now. "They get inside your head, scramble your brains. Oh no!" Realisation dawned on her.

"What?"

"They've come for the Collector."

"The vampire sword?"

Robin nodded. "Yes, we stole it from them. There was a bit of a scuffle somewhere in... oh... third arm turnwise and eighty years from the centre. Five of our fastest slipships attacked the Horner outpost on Glideway Blue four." she paused, her eyes reliving the horror of it all.

Denny prompted her to continue. "What happened?"

"It was awful," she whispered. "My ship, the Interloper, ran straight back to Black Mere for repairs, but the Lady Of Pain came more or less directly here."

"What about the other ships?"

"Gone, atomized by the Horners."

"And the Horners?"

"Gone as well. Whole colony was eliminated, praise be to Great Bardon," and she waved her hands vaguely in front of her.

Denny frowned at the thought of all this being just a bit of a scuffle. "Great who?"

"Bardon. My protector god." she waved again. "Damn! I can't do the sign with only two hands.

"Come on. Get up and pull yourself together. That thing has been dead for years and the others have probably been gone for ages as well."

Robin was still on her knees and didn't answer, but her lips were moving as she muttered to herself. Suddenly she sprang up. "Got to know," she yelled, and before Denny could stop her, she had pushed aside the bushes and was running across the ancient minefield, a relic of the valley wars.

Denny dived to the ground again, but there was no roar of exploding mines. She raised her head cautiously, and could see Robin kneeling by the skeleton. Eventually Robin stood and looked round the field again before walking directly back to where Denny lay waiting.

She dropped the skull she had retrieved and sat down by Denny's side. "Look."

Denny had got over the shock of seeing Robin's suicidal dash, and forced herself not to give her the telling off she deserved. "What am I looking at then?" she asked.

Robin held out the scrap of clothing she was holding. "See this sign? It's a chameleon captain. And the skull's got the implants as well."

Denny turned the skull over and traced out the fine network of metallic filaments, till her finger came to where the wires met at a tiny grey cube. She looked from the skull to Robin.

"Booster," said Robin in answer to the unspoken question. "When she was alive, she was more dangerous than me when I was in the projector suit."

Denny visualised the armoured monstrosity that Robin had been when she met her death at Denny's hands and pursed her lips appreciatively.

"It's worse," said Robin quietly.

Denny raised her eyebrows.

"There's another one over there. That means there's one more somewhere, still on the loose."

"Is that bad?" asked Denny.

"Worse than bad. Takes at least two to fly a chameleon ship, so it's still here as well, lurking somewhere close by, just waiting to cause trouble, and Horners can't live without company. They lose their sense of reality when they're alone."

"So, it might be more dangerous?"

Robin nodded. "Afraid so. It'll be going slowly mad."

Denny looked at the skull and thought for a moment. "It's a goat. A mad goat?"

Robin nodded again. "Absolutely beyond all reason. And going back to the wild."

Negotiations

It was nearly dark when Tanya walked alone through the huge gates set in the rebuilt walls of Algar compound, and waved to the women above her. Setting down her two packs, she called out, "can you wait a few minutes, Sali's not far behind me."

One of them nodded and then turned to look out over the wall towards the East. Tanya stretched before picking up her own and Sali's packs and carried them both easily over to the main house where she sat on a low chair to wait for her tardy companion.

It wasn't long before Sali limped through the gates, which closed behind her, and slumped in the chair next to Tanya. "Thank god we're here. Can't go another step."

Tanya looked at her in despair. "Your trouble young Sali is that you're not fit."

They were interrupted by the door opening, allowing Julie Brand to join them on the porch. After the wolf attack on Homestead, which had left Susan Brand dead, Ginny had brought her three remaining daughters to oversee the running of Algar way station, and she was determined that her family would show a good profit during their term of residence. Julie was dressed simply in a clean but plain green skirt and nearly matching blouse, and she was wiping her hands on a small towel as she came onto the porch.

"Well, well, well. Tanya Vine and Sali Vorden. Never expected to see you here to sample our hospitality. You're very lucky girls, you only just made it." She shook her head slightly and pursed her lips. "Once the gates are shut, they usually stay that way till well after dawn."

Tanya and Sali looked at each other, not understanding. "Why's that then?" asked Tanya.

"Doesn't seem very friendly," added Sali.

"Don't you know? Good grief, thought you would have known. There's a wolf pack out there somewhere." She decided not to mention the other awful creature that had been seen occasionally in the area. "We can hear them most nights."

They had been sleeping on the ground, in the open for two nights, and they looked at her in horror. "Shit!" Exclaimed Tanya.

"Flaming seesaws!" Gasped Sali. "We've been sleeping in the campo for two nights." She stabbed her forefinger into Tanya's chest. "You!" she accused. "You could have got us killed and eaten."

"ME?" Tanya was all innocence. "We're here now, all safe and sound aren't we?"

"Yes but..."

"No buts Sali Vorden. You have to trust me to keep you safe, and now we're here, we'll have a warm bed tonight."

Julie butted in, "yes, a clean bed and good food. And how would you like to pay?"

They gaped at her. Tanya was first to recover. "Pay?"

"Pay?" echoed Sali.

"Yes, pay." She waved her arm in abroad circle. It's an expensive place to run, and nothing comes for free these days." She struggled to suppress a smile as she watched the girls expressions. "So. What have you got?"

Tanya frowned. "Well, nothing we can manage without really, what does it cost?"

"Ten cents for a place at dinner, ten for a clean bed and ten more for breakfast. Each."

Sali was counting on her fingers. "Why... that's nearly a pound," she blurted out.

Julie smiled at Sali's rough and ready accountancy skills, but agreed. "But seeing as how you're from Homestead and don't have much to do with cash money as such, it could be ten good eggs, or two jugs of cider, or something like that?"

"Aaah." Tanya nodded slowly and warned Sali into silence with a meaningful look. "Nothing like that I'm afraid, but I do have a gold ring that I could sell you."

Julie hitched up her skirt and sat on the step next to Tanya. "Show me," and she held out her hand. Tanya untied the string round her neck, unthreaded the ring and passed it over. Jean Collier the pedlar's daughter had given Tanya the ring a couple of years before as a token of her undying love, and it was probably worthless, but Tanya kept a straight face as Julie held it up to the light.

"See how the red stone shines so, when the light catches it right?"

Julie pulled a wry face. "Rubbish," she exclaimed, and tossed it in the air towards Tanya, who caught it awkwardly.

"What do we do now?" Asked Sali.

Julie smiled. "What you do, girls. Is sleep in the wash house, and eat what's left over."

Sali's jaw dropped in dismay, but Tanya reassured her, "at least it's warm Sal. And safe."

"Yes," said Julie slowly, "but unfortunately, there's all that washing to do first."

"WASHING?" exclaimed Sali.

"Washing," repeated Julie, "can't pay, got to work. As I said, nothing's free these days. Not even for Homestead's favourite daughters."

Tanya shrugged in resignation. "Come on Sal, let's get started. Soonest begun, soonest finished."

They went where Julie directed them, Sali muttering to herself all the while, "washing, bloody washing. Never did washing at home. This is turning out worse every day."

Even though the laundry building was open to the elements on two sides, it was hot and very humid. A conduit delivered cold water from the mountain stream a kilometre or so away, but in one corner of the compound, there was a stone cistern, and hot, fairly smelly water bubbled up into it continuously, and was diverted to the bath house or laundry, whichever needed it at the time.

In the wash house, the only sounds were the trickling of water, the slap of wet clothes on the stone and Sali's continuous complaining about the smell, but at last they were finished.

"That's it!" declared Sali vehemently. "I'm not doing anything for anybody, ever! If anybody else asks me to do something, I'll tell them to go fuck themselves!"

Tanya gaped at her friend's outburst. "Sali Vorden! Where did you learn language like that?" she demanded.

"Gilda," was the short reply.

"Oh," was all Tanya could say.

"I've a good mind to say 'sod it' and buggar off home. No man's worth all this hassle. Everything you've told me about him, well, me and Gilda have done already. All except... you know, that last bit."

Tanya gave a brief laugh. "Ha! Everybody's done it with Gilda, but Marco's better. Much better."

Sali gave her friend a mischievous smile. "So what's it like with a man? Have you been with him many times?"

"Aaah, well, I haven't actually been with him. I've kissed him lots of times though, but that's all."

Sali frowned and opened and closed her mouth a couple of times as she digested this new bit of information. "Well how do you know he's better then?" she finally asked.

Tanya thought a moment. "Flossie says so."

"What? So she says 'Oh Marco, you're so much better than Gilda'?"

"No," answered Tanya. "but I've heard them together."

"Yes, and..."

"Well, she makes a lot of noise, like dinner time in dog city."

Sali knew about the frantic meal times with the wardogs, and scowled. "That's weird Tanya Vine. Don't sound like normal behaviour to me. Especially West of the Nest. Got to be civilized now," she concluded triumphantly as she gloated at Tanya's discomfort.

"I give up mistress Vorden, I really do. Let's get dressed and see what we can steal for our suppers."

They had stripped to their underwear to do the washing, and their travelling skirts and blouses now hung with the other clothes they had cleaned. Putting on their spare shirts and trousers, they crossed the dark yard to the main house, and entered by the kitchen door. Ginny welcomed them in with a smile, and waving a work-worn hand towards the grill and range of pots now cooling by the fire, told them to take whatever they wanted. After first enquiring whether it was a sheep or one of her beloved goats on the spit, and being assured that goats were now off the menu, Tanya and Sali helped themselves to a grand feast of mutton, carrots, potatoes and fresh crusty bread. During the meal, the three Brand sisters were in and out of the kitchen, ferrying food to their hungry guests. Towards the end of the night, someone started playing a fiddle, and the music swelled and died as the kitchen door was opened and closed. Lottie came through the door with yet more dirty plates. "Getting a bit heated in there mum," she said breathlessly, "Julie's got the club out and she's ready to use it if it gets out of hand."

"What are them silly beggars doing?" demanded Ginny.

"It's them troopers," was the reply. "Basher and four other ugly sods from Tintown. They're demanding, demanding, better entertainment."

"Entertainment?" queried her bemused mother. "What sort of entertainment?"

"No idea. Debbie's playing her fiddle, and our Terri's singing, but they're getting a bit rowdy."

"I can shut them up."

They stared at Sali. "What can you do young Sali?" asked Ginny eventually.

"We can dance for them," was the confident reply.

"Dance?" gasped Tanya. "I've never seen you dance Sali Vorden. Are you sure about this?"

"Oh, quite sure Tan. But only if we get a bed for the night." and she looked meaningfully at Ginny.

"It's a deal," said Ginny without hesitation. "It'll be better than breaking heads."

Tanya grabbed her friend's arm and leant close to her. "Are you mad Sal?" she whispered. "I know what you can do, and Ma Nesbitt said I'm not to let you do anything drastic."

"Trust me Tan, I'm not going to hurt anyone. I've seen Lily out there tonight, she'll help, and we don't want to sleep in the laundry. Do we? It stinks."

Tanya gave a deep sigh and released Sali's arm. They went into the great hall where the violin player was beginning to suffer. As well as verbal insults, she was now getting olives and carrots thrown at her. Not much longer, Tanya thought, and they would be throwing plates as well. She had seen it all before in The Vine, her mum's taverna in Homestead.

Sali led her round the side of the room and stopped at the last table on the right. "Hello, Lily," she said.

Lily and her companions were from Crampton, the most Northerly village on the coast, but had moved into Homestead just before the civil war, which had finished with the battle of Asher's Farm.

She regarded Sali and Tanya sadly. "Gonna be trouble girls, you shouldn't be here."

"Well, with your help, we're going to stop this trouble before it starts."

Lily shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "How's that Sal?"

"We're going to do a sailors special for them."

"It might just have escaped your notice," Lily said quietly, "but we're not exactly a dance troupe."

Tanya gasped her disbelief. "Now I know you're mad. I've tried doing it just once, and it was a disaster."

Sali smiled. "Don't you listen Tanya Vine? Trust me I said," and she whispered her instructions to them.

Debbie breathed a sigh of relief as Lottie jumped in front of her and waved her into silence.

"Ladies!" She had to shout as the catcalls increased in volume. "LADIES, your attention please."

The room was almost silenced in anticipation of something different.

"Some of you have seen the flamingo in Lakeside. Some of you have even been to that famous place, Pauline's Pleasure Parlour." There were cheers and whistles and even some foot stamping. Lottie held up her arms and they quietened down a little.

"But none of you have seen this." She briefly looked sideways at Sali who urged her on. "From the top of the world, from as far North as you can go, Algar Springs is proud to present as you have never seen it before THE SARDINE."

The sardana had it's origins around the Barcelona area, but no one could recall the whole truth of it. Nowadays, eight women would dance in a circle around a single sardine on a plate, until they dropped from exhaustion. Then the fish would be cremated on the beach and it's ashes scattered to the waves to ensure that the next years fishing season would be successful.

Tanya and Lily were in trousers and two more of the Crampton girls had removed their skirts so that four of them represented menfolk. They stood in a line while Terri Brand came from the kitchen, carrying a half eaten trout on a cracked plate. She laid her burden down in the centre of the room and retreated back to the safety of the kitchen, where she and her ma peered round the edge of the door.

Ginny squinted in an effort to see better, "they're too quiet," she whispered to herself. "We'll have to let Julie loose with the club."

The violin was being played gently and Sali was chanting softly. The dancers linked hands and walked slowly onto the floor, circling the unfortunate trout, the circle getting smaller until the first dancer caught up with the last one. They turned as one to face the centre and each one put her hands out onto the shoulders of her neighbours.

Sali's words were indistinct, although occasionally she would stress certain words. "Time to dance, dance in time... gift of the gods... god of love... love to dance... give to the good."

The dancers were hopping and sliding in a clockwise direction and Sali started moving the other way. The fiddle suddenly got louder and the beat got faster. Some of the audience had seen it before and started clapping softly in time, and so far, the threat of violence had abated.

From a seat in the crowd, the dancers were seen to be in full flight, hopping, kicking and skipping their way through the convolutions of the sardine.

Inside the circle, the dancers were a little confused and Tanya kicked her neighbour again. "Sorry love," she whispered. Then louder, "I still can't get the double shuffle."

Lily ignored her. "Left foot down, and kick the right twice. Change feet and hop once. Forward three and back again."

They were actually in slow motion and walking through the dance, but seen from outside Sali's circle, they were flying. "Time to dance, .... dance in time." Sali kept up her chant, and the audience kept up their clapping. "Love to give... give to love"

The crowd was becoming mesmerized by the rhythm of the dance and eventually Sali slowly moved among the bleary eyed customers, stopping briefly by each one. "YOU'RE VERY TIRED. GIVE A COIN. TIME FOR BED. SPARE A CENT."

Slowly the room emptied of it's stupefied clients, until Sali was alone with Debbie and the dancers. Debbie was on automatic, her fiddle virtually playing itself. It took all of Sali's strength to stop Debbie's arm, but eventually, the light of reason returned to her glazed eyes and she also staggered off to bed. With the music stopped, the eight dancers slowly ground to a halt, and they looked round in amazement at the now empty room, where Sali was dashing from table to table, scooping coins into her leather pouch.

Tanya was dumbfounded. "What's happened? Where have they all gone?"

"Gone to bed," Sali answered gleefully, pushing her bulging purse into the top of her blouse "Like the good girls they are."

It was later, in bed that Sali confessed what she had done.

"Have you ever watched the sardine before?" she asked.

"Yeh, of course, twice in fact."

"Not from start to finish though?"

The thought of it made Tanya chuckle, "course not, it takes hours."

"How long have you watched it for?"

"About ten minutes I guess. It's mostly boring until near the end, when they start falling down with the cramp an' stuff." She frowned. "What did you do to them?"

"Oh, nothing much. It was easy."

"How easy? What did you do out there Sal?" she repeated.

"Well, I just twisted time a bit, made them think they'd seen the whole thing so they got a bit tired."

Tanya's mind was reeling. "Twisted time," she stated flatly. "I get a bad feeling about this Sali Vorden."

"No need to worry," Sali said confidently and gave a big yawn. "I know what I'm doing. It'll be alright, just you see. Now go to sleep pet, it's late and we're going for a nice long walk again tomorrow."

Chapter 3

### After Algar

The dawn chorus came and went without anyone in Algar Springs being awake to appreciate it. Sali was the first one to crawl out of the bed she had shared with Tanya, but after going to collect their gear from the laundry, she quickly roused Tanya from dreamland and they were soon running West, away from the compound gate.

After ten minutes at a fast jog, they slowed down and Sali explained the situation again. "It'll be better if we keep out of Basher's way for a while."

Tanya didn't understand. "I know she's a bit rough Well a big bully really, but why should we be afraid?"

"I told you I didn't do washing didn't I?"

Tanya nodded her agreement.

"Well, all them shirts and stuff we washed last night."

Tanya frowned, "Yes?"

"Well, they're a bit pink now."

"A bit pink?"

"A lot pink actually, and Basher doesn't strike me as a pink person."

Her initial surprise wore off and Tanya's eyes twinkled merrily as she started to chuckle. "Sodding hell Sal, she'll be furious."

"Her face'll match her shirt."

"Let's hope she calms down a bit before she gets to Ibis, then we can talk sensibly to her."

Sali was mystified. "You can't talk to Basher, she's not known for talking, only for bashing."

"Yeh, well, I'll just give her a new shirt and everything will be fine."

Sali looked quickly at her friend. "You rich all of a sudden Tan? I can remember you wearing your Kirsty's old trousers, patches and all."

"Them days are long gone Sal. Money, jewels, weapons and clothes beyond belief. We've got it all at Toogood farm."

Sali thought it over. "I'm rich as well Tan," and she opened her little pouch to show what she had collected the previous night. Tanya whistled in appreciation. At first glance there was probably about five pounds and a couple of silver rings as well, and for Sali, who had never possessed more than ten cents to her name at any one time, this was an incredible fortune.

"Wow!! You'd better keep that safe Sal, until you can talk to Jean Collier."

Sali didn't understand. "Why's that then?"

Tanya had grasped the rudiments of commerce from her three months as Prima of Toogood, and gave Sali the benefit of her superior knowledge. "Jean and her mum are traders, and if you give her, say a pound, then she'll buy something with that pound in Homestead and sell it in Tintown for three."

Sali's eyes were wide in astonishment. "Three pounds for one?"

Tanya nodded, "Yes but she would give you two and keep one for herself."

"Greedy cow, that's not right. that's my money that is."

Tanya shook her head and smiled. "But it is right Sal. You'll give her the pound in Ibis, she goes to Homestead, to Tintown than back to Ibis again. Just think about it."

Sali opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again, frowning slightly.

Eventually the light of realisation came into her eyes. "Oh, I see" she said slowly, "it's West of the Nest."

"Civilisation," they said together and then laughed.

They continued walking on in silence, towards the bulk of Guardians Nest, but away from the rising sun and Basher's pink shirt.

The Brand girls

Back at Algar, Terri Brand was the next to wake up, and rubbing her bleary eyes found her way to the kitchen for a drink of something stronger than water to drive away the demons of her nightmares.

Flip, flap.

She had another sip and gazed into the mug, elbows on the table, head in her hands, lost in thought.

Flip, flap.

She rubbed her tired eyes again and looked at the mountain of dirty pots that needed cleaning before the others could be fed.

Flip, flap.

The insistent noise gradually forced it's way into her brain, and she looked towards the door to the great hall, frowning and wondering what it was. She went to the door and pushed it open, then stood there while her heart started to beat faster and faster.

Flip, flap.

"Mum," she croaked.

At the edge of her vision, ghostly shapes writhed around the room, but disappeared when she looked directly at them.

Flip, flap.

"MUM!" She called louder.

There was no denying the source of the strange noise though.

Flip, flap.

"MOTHER!" she screamed out, and the trout, which had been most definitely dead and half eaten the previous night, continued to gasp and flap it's tail weakly as it tried to swim the cool waters of it's poorly remembered dreams.

Three mornings later, that same fish was looking up again at the circle of faces and probably thinking, _"this seems very familiar,"_ while the women looking down on the ill used trout were thinking, _"we are part of a miracle."_

No one had left Algar Springs since the night of Sali's time twist, and the pink washing had largely been ignored in the presence of the everlasting trout.

Ginny wrung her hands together and studied her knuckles before speaking. "Put it back in the little pond, and this time we'll leave it there. We've eaten it twice already and I say 'no more'," She looked round at the mixed company. "We all believe now, don't we?"

Everyone murmured their agreement, and kept their eyes downcast, not wanting to look at the ghostly dancers surrounding them.

"It's enough," she stated firmly, and looked down at her now callous free hands yet again. "Julie."

"Yes mum?"

"You three get off this morning. Take the big wagon to Homestead and bring your sister back here."

There were sharp intakes of breath from the Brand girls. "Ma Nesbitt's not going to like it mum," said Terri, stating the obvious.

"Then don't let her see you digging her up." Was the sharp reply. "I want all my daughters here, with me, and alive."

Chapter 4

### A Spring Affair

Caren Hummingbird & Denzil Sazgood

' _And in the seven years following the day of judgement, the great houses were founded and chaos was banished from the land.'_ Caren rolled over on the big bed and lay on her back staring at the ceiling, one hand behind her head, the other clasping her well thumbed prayer book. "What do you think Den?"

"I'm glad winter's over. That's what I think. I've been cold and wet for too long."

"Oh, come on. This is important to me."

Denny reached out and gently squeezed Caren's hand. "It'll be alright. You know it will. Your father said so. _'It's quantum my dear'_." She spoke in a good imitation of Caren's father. " _'if it's already happened, then it will happen again'_."

"It's not funny either," retorted Caren, brushing Denny's hand away. She waved the little book, "They're all in here. All of them, except a Hummingbird. Where is she?"

Denny finally lay down beside Caren. "Oh, go on then, read it again."

Caren turned a couple of pages and squinting in the poor light, read to her adopted sister. "And the first house to rise was Deerward Tower."

"Fairly obvious," said Denny examining her nails. "We've already met her, Dorian Deerward at Dockside, and she'll use the old tower on goat hill."

"In the same year, the Long House was raised in the East."

"Obvious again. Sylvia Long, and rebuilding has already started, here in Homestead."

"But what about this one then? 'Then the ivory tower became the Stronghold.' What's that all about? Never heard tell of a 'Stronghold', have you?"

"The only thing I can think of is that white monstrosity near Altmore. Saw it once, on my way to move in with you. Secretive lot, so mother said, always keep themselves to themselves, except in the springtime of course."

"After the deluge, the Margret of Valens welcomed the houses of La Via and Gap together under her roof at Mollie's fountain. Well that speaks for itself."

She turned another page and Denny yawned.

"Pay attention Denny. I need you."

"Sorry love, it's been a long day. Must be some rain, if they both have to move."

Caren sniffed before carrying on. "The House of Hummingbird at Ibis was saved by the naked warrior and the queen of swords." She snapped the book shut in despair. "What bloody use is that? How does that help me find my great, great something grandparents? It's not fair."

"Do you really need to find them? If it's already happened, and from our point of view it has, then perhaps they'll find you."

Caren was silent, and Denny asked her to keep reading. She did so, but with bad grace. "And Asgard rose again in the North."

"Asgard. What sort of a name is that? Not very Spanish is it?"

"Mmmm. What if it's 'Asgard Rose', like something to do with that priestess, Rocket Rose." There was no comment forthcoming, so Caren looked sideways at Denny. "Want me to go on?"

"Do it," Denny said crisply. "Get it over with."

Caren licked her lips and found her place again "And the unholy trinity came forth and founded the Sazgood empire at Algar Springs, and no man graced their halls."

"Unholy," mused Denny, who was, or was going to be, of the 43rd generation of Sazgoods. "Fascinating, but I'm not sure that Jo Tulip deserves that," she murmured. "Maybe I do? I'm holy, At least I think I am. You've heard me pray, haven't you?"

"Course I have sweet. You're not ungodly." Caren turned on her side and wrapped her arms round her sister and pulled her close. "Enough for tonight, my head's spinning. Kiss me, then it's sleepy time. We've another big day again tomorrow."

"Another big walk you mean."

"Well if you're not up to it, you can always ride on the wagon."

Denny smiled, "cheek! Not much choice though. Aching legs or sore arse."

"Aching legs for me," said Caren. "And it'll be worth it. So they say."

"A moving picture show. Fancy that. Wonder how he's done it?"

Caren carefully blew out the candle. "It's all done by mirrors."

"Really?"

Caren smiled to herself in the darkness. "No! go to sleep."

"Caren," Denny whispered.

"What love?"

"When we were little, we used to play at being heroes."

Caren held her lifelong friend to her and answered, "running through the woods and fields, waving bamboo swords."

"Rescuing your Ari and little sisters from imaginary monsters."

"I know what you're going to say," said Caren. "Now it's real, it's not much fun."

"More than that Cas. It's frightening me. I want to go home."

"Hush darling, we'll get there. Eventually. When the Hood comes back, we'll have a new time machine, and we can look back on this as just another great adventure."

Denny still wasn't happy. "In all those games we played, we never once pretended to be the angels did we?" She had become used to the role of 'Dark Angel' but still had bad dreams, even though the alien was no longer in her mind.

"No pet. But I often wished I could be the queen of swords though. Driving all her enemies away, and saving the house of Hummingbird."

Denny gave a small giggle. "Remember when you made Ari take all his clothes off? Told him he was the naked warrior, and he had to swim the river to save you?"

"Mother nearly killed me," laughed Caren. "Slippered me so hard, I couldn't sit down for days. Said that boys were more precious than girls and I ought to be left out for the fairies to carry off. Scared me silly."

They lay in silence thinking about their lost childhood days. Then Caren broke the silence. "Who is the naked warrior?"

"Probably Anton, or Marco maybe. We saw Anton with no clothes on during the battle here, two years ago, and Marco's nearly naked all the time, with that stupid barbarian outfit he insists on wearing."

"Marco then, stupid or not," said Caren quietly. "He's already in Ibis."

"Probably."

"Nobody's better than me with a sword. Are they Denny?"

Denny paused before answering, "with a sword? You're nearly unbeatable I guess, unless you meet me when I've got a spear, but what are you getting at?"

"If I can't find another Hummingbird, then I'm the real queen of swords, aren't I?"

"What are you saying?" asked Denny sharply.

"Simple logic. No other Hummingbird, then I am Hummingbird and therefore the queen of swords, so I'll have Marco's children and build the damned tower myself."

"Slow down there sis. That's a serious step to take, and I don't think your father would approve. You're at least forty generations apart, and I'm not sure that it's right. Or even possible."

"Possible?" asked Caren, frowning in the dark. "He's only a man after all."

"But is it quantum my dear? Can you actually be your own ancestor?"

"Don't know, don't care, and anyway, I've probably got six years to think about it."

They clung together for a while, until sleep, troubled by dark dreams, claimed them.

Altmore

The Spring equinox was just around the corner, so nights spent camping on the roadside weren't too cold, just chilly, but always of course, fairly uncomfortable. Horses had been made extinct by the alien's biological weapons, so travelling between villages was mostly achieved by walking or by riding on the ox carts with the cargo. Up in the North, around Tintown, a few eccentric folk had riding cattle, but they were lumbering ungainly beasts, and not particularly good tempered either.

Sensible people walked, and during the week before the equinox, it seemed as if all the world was walking into Altmore, which was the site of this years Spring fair.

Strategically placed near the centre of Spangerland, the South road took you to the fork where the choice was South to Ibis and La Via, or East to Guardian's Nest and the valleys. Northwards took you to Lakeside and Tintown, and West led to Central, which was Central by name only, it's location being furthest West of the country.

What was known as 'the town' of Altmore was, well let's say compact. A central open square of cracked paving dotted with sad palm trees, was overlooked by half a dozen three storey buildings. The ground floors of these were mostly used for the various businesses, while the upper floors housed the now growing families of the more prosperous citizens. There was no proper town wall, but between the buildings, large gates could shut off the three roads leading to the square and beyond this centre of wealth, the rest of Altmore lived in scattered smallholdings, plain square houses in tired looking garden plots enclosed by brushwood fences.

The visitors from Gap walked into the town through the South gate, and were immediately accosted by women and girls, some already trying to sell them cakes or sugared almonds, but others just curious to see another man. Gap's guru Tammy Corncrake with Susan Swift her ever present minder, and Margaret Valence, did their best to keep the press of bodies away from 'their man', Jimmy Door.

Jimmy was one of the six male miners saved by Denny and Caren in their time machine, and his promotion from among the lower ranks of space engineering to being one of the six most important people in the known world had been a dizzy and dangerous journey for him. Margaret and the girls from Gap guarded him jealously.

"Hands off girl," said Tammy to a woman who reached out to stroke one of Jimmy's hairy arms in wide eyed wonder. "When your turn comes, I'm sure they'll let you know," and then she muttered quietly, "but you'll probably have a long wait."

They made slow progress through the milling crowd, not really knowing where they were supposed to go, when a voice from an upstairs window saved them.

"Margaret honey! Jimmy boy. Come on up."

Margaret looked up and gave a big smile. "Ricky," she shouted back. "Where's the door?"

"Through the junk shop," and he pointed to their left.

After the rough exterior of the building, and the chaos in the 'junk shop', the cool and opulently furnished rooms came as a surprise to them all, even Tammy.

"Another glass perhaps?"

"Not for me thankyou," replied Tammy. "I need to keep a clear head this week."

In addition to the usual fun and games, and meetings between old friends, this years Spring fair was going to be a steep learning curve for the primas, gurus and town councils. Margaret was going to teach them something about the wonderful world of genetics, and was going to try to introduce a system whereby the boy children would move to a different village or town when they reached a certain age.

The others had no such reservations and their smiling host, the town prima, Gloria Fennel, clapped her hands twice. A young girl appeared instantly from behind one of the drapes covering the walls, as if she had been waiting for the summons.

"Another bottle, Dolores," Gloria said slowly. "A mistela this time I think, and a cordial for our distinguished guru guest."

The girl nodded and rushed off, leaving Gloria basking in the glory of the others admiration for her beautiful clothes. There was possibly more material in her dress than her four visitors had on between them, and her tall wig, decorated with silver combs, gave her ego a considerable boost, compensating for her lack of height.

Dolores returned with two cold bottles which were wet with condensation.

Margaret held her glass up to the light, entranced by the colours. "Fascinating," she murmured.

"Yes, Margret?" queried the ever polite host.

Margaret looked over towards Gloria, who was seated by the open window and vigorously waving a plain fan in front of her face. "Two years," she mused. "Two years in Homestead and Gap and this is the first real drinking glass that I've seen."

"Yes, things are a little... primitive in the East, are they not?" Gloria did her best not to sniff, as her guests were in desperate need of a good wash or dousing in some very strong perfume.

"Primitive? Yes I suppose so, but very fulfilling."

"Tell me Margret, how was your journey here? Were you fulfilled?"

It was Jimmy who answered. "Far from it lady. But we have plans to make it easier in the future."

Gloria raised her eyebrows enquiringly, but said nothing, and he continued. "If we can get round the rocks in the river below Ibis, then we can sail all the way from here to La Via, and beyond."

The fan stopped briefly, and then went on even faster. "An admirable project I'm sure, but perhaps the waggoners would not be so keen to see you succeed."

Tammy frowned, "Waggoners? You mean Fran Collier?"

"Of course. It could take away some of their trade, and they might take exception to losing a quarter of their income."

Her visitors were slightly confused. Even Tammy hadn't thought of that.

"Whatever you do, you must not underestimate the Collier clan. They have, I believe, connections. But enough of this idle gossip, you must be weary from your travels."

She put down her fan and clapped again. Dolores appeared at another curtain and was instructed to show them to their room.

"Here you are your ladyship," she said with due reverence as she opened the door for them. "This is yours for as long as you require it, and we've been filling the bath ready for you."

Margaret's eyes widened. "You've got a bath?" she said, astounded by such luxury.

"Yes your highness," mumbled the nervous girl. "It's in the room at the end there." And she pointed down the corridor.

"With hot water?" asked Jimmy, and the girl answered plainly, "why, yes."

Margaret and Jimmy looked at each other excitedly and the others were forgotten.

"Mine first!" they yelled together and raced each other towards the indicated door.

"Well! That's no way for a princess to behave," exclaimed the astonished maid.

"Tammy smiled at the girl's innocence, "what else can you expect from royalty. They're not the same as us common folk, are they?"

Margaret's last hot bath had been about a year before, when nearly half of Homestead had been afflicted with some nameless parasite which had defied all home remedies, and they had finally been driven by the itching to use the mineral water spring at Algar. That had been for medicinal purposes, this time it was sheer pleasure.

The peels of laughter and yells of joy coming from the bathroom eventually died away and were replaced by the sound of Jimmy and Margaret singing to each other out of tune in the time honoured tradition of all bath times.

The door opened.

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"

"Ricky," squealed Margaret. "Now I know I've gone to heaven. A hot bath and my two favourite space rats to wash my back."

Ricky laughed at the sight and sound of his ex-commanding officer behaving like a schoolgirl again. "Good grief girl, but you're easily pleased," he chortled, and knelt at the side of the bath.

"You can do my back as well, while you're about it," retorted Jimmy, who was sat at the opposite end of the big wooden bathtub to Margaret. "But if you don't mind, I'll find the soap for you. Never know what you're likely to get hold of down there."

Margaret gave a couple pretend squeaks as he searched for the elusive soap and the shuttle pilot duly obliged them both without any embarrassment. After all, they'd lived together through the alien invasion and it had brought them closer together than if they had been family.

"Tell us about your life here," Margaret asked, and Ricky proudly told them about his two families here and in Central. Seven children in all, three boys and four girls, and also five other women who were very pregnant. Jimmy then asked how the women decided who was going to have his children.

"Don't really know, but Gloria sorts all that out," he informed them. "Girls come to work in the shop for a while, and live here as well." A frown creased his brow momentarily. "Mostly we get along just fine, but other times... it's not so peaceful. Pow!" He threw his hands in the air. "Fireworks. Speaking of which, when Walter arrives, tread carefully, watch your step. He's gone a little strange and you can't always talk sensibly to him like in the old days."

He could throw no light on the cause or extent of Walter's strangeness, but could answer Margaret's next question.

"Why," she asked, "did that girl call me 'highness', and why does everyone insist that my name is Margret? Where's the 'A' gone? It's MARGARET for heavens sake."

"Well your highness," he laughed and ducked as Margaret splashed out at him. "I know the story and it's all about word association. Maybe two hundred years ago, there was a sort of king up in Valencia, but his real title was Margrave, and his queen was the Margarine or something. Now with your name being Margaret Valence, the good folk of Spangerland have decided that you're the heir to Valencia's throne. Hence Margret, or princess of Valens, or Valencia. Simple when you know."

"Wonder what they thought when I walked in dressed like a scarecrow, with patched trousers, torn blouse and dirty shoes?" wondered Margaret.

"I bet they expected it, royalty's always eccentric," teased Jimmy.

"Right, my loyal subjects. There's something your eccentric princess needs you to do for her."

"And what may that be, your majesty?" asked Jimmy.

"Jam a chair under the door handle Ricky, there's a good boy."

"Why's that my love?"

She lifted a foot out of the water and rubbed it gently up and down Jimmy's chest. "I'm going to have Jimmy's children eventually, but my implant probably lasts at least another twelve months and I haven't seen you two together for more than a year." She licked her lips. "It's party time in the palace."

Chapter 5

### Moving pictures

Clean again and wearing clean clothes, they enjoyed a lazy lunch with some of Ricky's 'family', and made the appropriate oohing and aahing noises over the babies. Then he showed them his workshop. At first glance it was as jumbled as the second hand junk shop downstairs, but during the short guided tour, they recognised that he had built, from scratch, some useful but possibly unreliable bits of equipment.

"And this?" asked Margaret, pointing at what looked like a microwave oven.

"Shortwave radio transceiver. When it's powered up, I can talk direct to Hawk on command level five. Not that I can give commands though, I don't have the necessary access codes and can't read or speak Arabic. But it's useful to have a direct link in English. For weather reports and such if nothing else."

Margaret and Jimmy were suitably impressed, but Jimmy had a question. "Where does the power come from?"

Ricky smiled. "Solar cells, on the roof."

"But where did they come from?"

"Well, it's supposed to be a big secret, but up in Tintown they've found a warehouse complex, which they're slowly digging out and they send the interesting bits here on the weekly wagon. Everything appears to be a couple of centuries old, and batteries are turning out to be a problem, so at the moment I'm using some fairly big capacitors to even out the current."

Jimmy gave a low whistle. "Bloody hell. I think that you'd better watch your step my mad professor. Capacitors are dangerous things to have around."

"So it's daylight hours only?" observed Margaret.

" 'Fraid so. That's why the film show is going to be afternoons only for a while."

"How do you do it, and where are the films from?" asked Jimmy.

Ricky gave a broad smile. "Basic stuff really, from year two of miss Dobbs' science class. Cobbled together an amplifier from bits of this and that, and used it to link my helmet memory bank to a liquid jelly screen that was found still in it's packing. Hopefully, everything will work long enough to show some of my home movies and fabulous music collection. Come on, it'll soon be time to open the doors."

"Oh grief," sighed Jimmy. "I've been tortured by your music before."

"Wait a minute," Margaret said suddenly. "Are you sure this is safe? What about Hind? Won't she be tempted to blast us all out of existence when you power it all up? Look what happened to Burnt Wood last year."

Ricky shook his head and grimaced. "No, she's gone cold. Hawk says that Hood has somehow shut her down from the moon base." He laughed at Margaret's doubting expression. "Come on, cheer up Maggie. It's been up and running for about five weeks now, and Hawk says we're absolutely safe. Cross my heart and all that stuff."

She gave in at last, and muttering a silent prayer for miss Dobbs' teaching skills, she followed them to the Black Swan next to Gloria's 'Second Chance' junk shop, where the afternoon's entertainment was received by the patrons in their usual boisterous style.

Two days later, the delegation from the East arrived, and the noisy reunions lasted well into the evening. Anton and Simon had strolled into town escorted by eight women. Dorian and Sami from Dockside along with Penny and Kate, the Crampton refugees, were part of Simon's extended family, while Sylvia and Jade from Homestead were with Anton, and Caren and Denny were there out of curiosity.

Anton passed his precious helmet to Ricky with a warning. "Whatever you do, I want it returned intact. All my happy memories are in there, and I want them back."

Everyone cheered as Ricky took his place behind his jury rigged control panel, and he smiled as he waved to the audience. "Friends, visitors, ladies and gentlemen....." He had to pause as several of the women gave ear piercing wolf whistles. "Thankyou girls. To continue, welcome to the Swan, where this afternoon we go back in time to observe the lives of people in a gentler age. But first you will be transported all the way to the far off sea, and you will be amazed at the daring exploits of the sailors from Gap as they ride the ocean waves." He fiddled at the controls and the lights faded. "I give you... the fishing trip."

The audience clapped politely, not knowing what to expect but as the giant screen flickered into life the whispering crowd went silent.

The picture show began with Tammy waving on screen to the camera, which had been in Anton's helmet.

"That's me, that's me," giggled Tammy excitedly and she waved back at herself.

The camera panned round to take in the four boats moored at the stone jetty, and several of the crowd leaned sideways as if they too were going round in circles.

'This is the harbour at Gap,' It was Anton's voice coming from the twin speakers, and in the room there was an audible gasp of surprise. 'and we are taking the ketch, Sunbird out to sea.' Anton's hand came into view and he pointed towards the third boat, which loomed larger as he walked towards it. 'This is our crew for today. Say hello ladies.' One by one the five sailors awkwardly introduced themselves, but then swung smoothly into action as they prepared for the days fishing.

And so the show went on, from the sheltered water of the harbour to the swell of the open sea. Hoisting the sail, deploying the nets, then the back breaking work of bringing the catch aboard, and finally running for home, lining up the boat with the beacons on shore to avoid the ruins of the sunken city.

'And here we are, safe and sound back on dry land. Why don't you join me in Morgan's for a jug of ale. All that hard work has left me with a raging thirst.'

The open door of Morgan's tavern came into view and the film ended.

"Thankyou ladies and gentlemen," shouted Ricky above the clapping and cheering.

"There will now be a short interval while I sort out the next film, so why don't you take the opportunity to fill your glasses again. All that work must have left you with a thirst as well."

Laughter filled the room, just as Ricky had intended, and the bar was suddenly busy with noisy customers again, chattering excitedly about what they had just seen.

Anton nodded thoughtfully. "We'll have to negotiate a better price for our films in future," he said to no one in particular.

"What do you mean, big boy," asked Margaret.

"When he got in touch with me, through Hawk, about making a seafaring documentary, he didn't mention that he was going to get rich. Look at them," and his eyes swept the room. "They're paying to see a news report. This could be the start of a very profitable line of business, and you can ignore all that 'lets go for a drink' business. I was as sick as a dog recording that one. Jimmy can go next time."

Jimmy made a disapproving noise, sucking air in between his teeth. "Oh no no no," he intoned, shaking is head. " 'Fraid not my son. I might live by the sea, but I'll be damned if I'm going on it."

"Why Jimmy," teased Simon, "not afraid of a little bit of water are you?"

Jimmy shook his head. "The water's fine. It's all that up and down stuff I can't be doing with."

"Really?" said Margaret and took a demure sip of her beer. "I thought you were really rather good at up and down."

The group round the table waited expectantly for Jimmy's reply, but Margaret spoke again. "Well you were the other afternoon, anyway."

The ensuing laughter made the other punters look round, just in time to see Simon fall off his stool. He got to his feet again still laughing while Dorian looked on, not understanding the innuendo, and the other's laughter rose to new heights at the sight of her quizzical expression.

"I'll tell you later dear," whispered Margaret.

Ricky saved them from further embarrassment. "Ladies and gentlemen."

The crowd turned their attention to the stage again, and Ricky continued. "Take your seats once more for a rare treat. You are now going to witness a very special event and I can promise you that none of you." His pointing finger swept round the room. "None of you have ever seen the like of this before. With special thanks to Anton, the Swan is proud to present the first ever public showing of the marriage between Anton's sister, the beautiful Susanna Defusto, and her handsome fiancé, Rodrigo Campanile."

He started the film and the audience were spellbound at the sight of Susanna in a peach wedding gown, with her six bridesmaids in attendance.

Anton stood up and quietly left the room, followed closely by Margaret.

"OK Tony?"

He nodded. "Can't watch it in public is all," he answered quietly. "Thought I was over it, but..." His voice trailed off.

"I know sugar," whispered Margaret. "Let's sit here and admire the scenery."

They sat on the bench to the side of the Swan's front door, not quite touching, not quite talking, and watched the women across the square trying to make a profit from the passers by.

"That wedding was five years ago, for you and me," he said suddenly. "And because of that bloody time machine, it was two thousand years ago as well."

She reached out and held his hand. He didn't resist and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I sometimes wonder what's the point of it all? Has it been worth it, all those deaths all that time ago and yet when everyone we ever knew has been long gone, we're still here, showing pictures of fairy tale weddings to the natives."

"Shhh. Don't talk like that. Don't ever talk like that. Life is a gift to be cherished, and you're more precious to us, to me, than you'll ever know."

"But why?" he continued. "Why should I still be here when they've all gone? What gives me the right to still be alive?"

Margaret swore silently to herself. 'not again', she thought. "We've been through all this before, and nothing has changed from last time."

She nudged him. "Has it?" she demanded.

He reluctantly shook his head, "no," he whispered. "It's just... I don't know, it seems so unfair," he finished lamely.

Margaret snorted. "Unfair be damned. You take what life offers and grab it with both hands." She made a grasping motion with her free hand. "You get one chance at life and you live it the best way you can, for yourself and for your friends. You're a long time dead Tony, and I need you alive. I can't sort out this crazy world without your help."

They sat in silence a while longer and after a suitable time she put her hand to his cheek. "Alright now, or shall I have to slap you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not this time love," he replied.

She reached up and kissed his forehead. "Good. And get a shave pet, your cheek's like sandpaper."

A girl rushed up and threw herself onto the bench beside Anton, then looked round wildly before thrusting a straw bonnet at Margaret.

"Buy a hat lady?" she asked breathlessly. "It's good stuff. Quality reeds, not grass."

Margaret warded off the proffered hat, "no thankyou, I've no need of one."

"But you have lady," the girl insisted, looking round again. "With your fair skin, you need a bit of protection. Sun's getting hotter and I wouldn't want you to burn."

Margaret smiled at the girl's sales talk. Margaret had a dark complexion, like the girl's, and her small cap was tucked in her belt and obviously visible.

"Just look at it. Please?" insisted the girl, in a frightened voice.

Anton took the hat from her and obligingly turned it over in his hands. "Two of them, to the right. Don't look. Look at me and tell me about this interesting weave."

The surprised but relieved girl told him some unlikely story about the reeds being picked at midnight for the best quality and continued to make it up until Anton stopped her. "They're gone," he told her. "What have you done?"

She put on an indignant tone. "Me? Why nothing sir."

Anton raised his eyebrows and waited.

"Well, there was a bit of a mix up at the bakery and some pies seem to have gone missing," she informed him. "They think that I had something to do with it. Cheek."

"What's your name girl?" asked Margaret. "And where do you live?"

"Daisy, mistress," she answered reluctantly, "and I live out of town with my friend." She waved vaguely towards the West gate but her eyes told Margaret another story. "She's very sick and I have to buy medicines for her."

Margaret fumbled in her purse. "Here Daisy, take this as a gift from Gap."

Daisy's eyes lit up and she held out the bonnet to Margaret.

"No, you keep the hat, but one day, somebody might want a favour from you, and I want you to do it for them in exchange for this one."

Daisy frowned but accepted the few coins, said thankyou and farewell then sped off in the opposite direction to the two women apparently searching for her.

"Wonder what she's really done," mused Anton as they watched her go through the South gate.

"Probably never know," answered Margaret, "but I wish her luck. Ricky told me all about the street brats. Orphans, most of them. Unwanted, unloved and struggling to survive."

"Perhaps we killed their kinfolk at Asher's farm last year."

"Christ, that's all we need. Another reason for you to go on a guilt trip."

"Perhaps you'd better slap me now doctor."

Margaret looked round quickly at him but saw that he was smiling at her.

"Teasing bugger," she said and duly obliged his request, slapping his face just a little too hard.

"Ouch!" he yelped, eyes wide and rubbing his cheek. "That hurt!"

"Oh, sorry love. Well if you're a good boy," she whispered, "I'll kiss it better for you, later. Much later," and she squeezed his hand affectionately.

"Promise you won't tell Billie?"

"Guides honour," she replied laughing, then went serious again. "Why aren't Billie or Georgie here with you? There's usually one or the other minding you."

"Too much work on," he replied and shrugged.

She nodded, "oh of course, they're rebuilding Homestead."

He nodded his agreement. "Not just Homestead. Algar Springs has doubled in size since you saw it last and we're flat out making nails."

"Nails?"

Another voice answered, "long nails, short nails, round nails and flat nails. You go into the forge at your own risk. There's a good chance of falling over boxes of nails and piles of leather harness. They're everywhere."

They looked round. People were leaving the Swan and it was Simon who had spoken.

"Hi Simon, enjoy the show?" asked Margaret.

"Yeh, good stuff," he confirmed and held up Anton's helmet. "Can I use it Tony? To film this for the folks back home," and he swept his arm round to indicate the square. "I'm sure Ma Nesbitt would like to see all this."

"Perhaps you could sell it to Ricky," added Margaret. "for when he takes his show to Central? Then you could be rich as well. All those nails and now a film director."

Anton laughed briefly. "Not much profit in nails," he growled. "You know that in Homestead you get paid in chickens or eggs, or god forbid, vegetables."

"And Algar?" queried Margaret.

He nodded slowly. "Well they pay in coin, mostly, but there's not much trade there yet. I think they'll be big business in the future though. Maybe."

"Bloody hell, look at this folks. Just see who's making a grand entrance."

They turned round to see where Simon was looking. He had the helmet on and was facing towards the South gate. They stood to get a better view and watched as the crowd parted to let three incredible figures in flowing robes come through their midst.

Margaret laughed briefly. "Last time I saw her wearing something like that was in Ibis town hall, and she knocked me off my stool." She rubbed her chin at the memory. "Never saw it coming."

Anton frowned. "Who is it then?"

"Tanya Vine of course. Don't you recognise who's with her?"

Anton laughed out loud. "Well I don't believe it, it's Marco. Where'd he get those fancy pants from?"

Tanya, Marco and Margo Lemon from Ibis were decked out in clothes made from the rolls of shining, multicoloured material that Tanya had found in the San Juan tunnel.

Firenza Nutbush trailed behind them, dressed as usual in her deerskin skirt and jacket. When the others had got changed at their lodgings on the South side, she had turned down the offer of the red outfit, saying that bright colours didn't suit her complexion.

They made their way through the astonished crowd and came to a halt in front of the Swan where Marco gallantly flicked away some imaginary dust from the seat next to Margaret with a white handkerchief.

"Milady, would you care to sit here awhile?"

Tanya inclined her head slightly. "Why thankyou Marco dahling, I do believe I would." Then she turned to Margaret and winked. "Hi Mags, What do you think to the shiny stuff? We're going into the clothing business."

"Well thank the Lord for that," replied Margaret in relief. "Thought you two had gone and got ideas above your station. And don't call me 'Mags'."

"Sorry love," then to Firenza, "Fizz, get us a drink will you pet, I'm parched."

She addressed Margaret again, "thought we'd better dress up for the occasion, don't want them thinking that we go around in rags, do we?"

Margaret glanced down at her patched trousers and winced, but kept quiet.

Across the square, a young woman slowly released her angry companions wrist, and the knife slid back into it's sheath. "Not yet," she hissed. "Run back and tell her that the curly haired bitch has arrived. I'll watch her, see where she's headed. Then it's our turn."

The other nodded, rubbing her sore wrist and sped off towards the North gate.

Chapter 6

### Musical interlude

"Come on Tony," Margaret pleaded, "say yes. You know you can do it."

As big and powerful as he was, Anton squirmed under Margaret's intense gaze. "I've never done it in public before though," he complained.

"Neither have Simon and Jimmy, but they're going to do it for me."

He still refused to commit himself and Margaret lowered her head and whispered in his ear. "You're as good as them lover."

"Yes but..."

"I need you Tony," she breathed, "they're both tenors and I know you can sing a lovely baritone. I've heard you."

"But..."

She finally gave in with the softly softly approach. "Do it," she snapped, "or I'll make sure that Billie finds out what a bad boy you've been."

His eyes grew wide with surprise. "You wouldn't," he declared.

"Wouldn't I?"

"No. Would you?"

"Would too," she answered affirmatively, and put on an affected voice. "Oh, Billie, guess what Tony's been doing with all those exotic foreign girls. Is that what you want?" she said severely, "because that's what you'll be getting."

Anton studied her face for some sign that she was bluffing, then sighed and gave in to the inevitable.

Margaret playfully tweaked his ear and kissed him on the cheek. "You won't regret it," she said mischievously, "we're gonna knock 'em dead. Now let's get dressed and go find the others. I know two verses already and you'll only have to do the chorus."

Each group attending the Spring fair was expected to take a turn at entertaining the others, and Gloria had announced that in honour of the time travellers from the distant past, any songs should be as old as possible. Margaret had gone through the small music library stored in her helmet and found a very old piece.

"What about musicians?" Anton asked when they were dressed and leaving Margaret's room. "Who's going to play for us?"

Margaret gave a little smile as she answered, "don't need musicians lover, we'll be doing it acapella."

He shook his head as they left the building, "scarier by the minute," he muttered.

They stopped and looked across the deserted square, then Margaret realised the reason for the lack of townsfolk going about their usual business.

"North field," she said as a faint cheer came from that direction. "It's the archery competition. Let's go and see how our lovely ladies are getting on."

They walked in silence for a short way, then the aromas of morning hit them.

"I suppose I'll have to buy you a breakfast again?"

Anton smiled broadly. "Whoy, Margaret, tha's ver' decent of you," he said in a very bad 'local' accent. "Oi don' carry cash with me ma'am, what with me being from the country an' all."

She punched him on the arm. "Shut up Tony from the country, or you'll go hungry."

He rubbed his arm ruefully. "Well then," he said slyly, "perhaps I might have something about me that I could trade with these lovely ladies for a taste of their delicious wares," and he patted his pockets in an exaggerated search for that elusive 'something'.

"You behave yourself. Keep your genes in your jeans."

"Yes ma'am," he answered briskly, and saluted with a wide sweep of his right hand.

"I mean it Tony," She said earnestly, "it's important to get the gene pool organised."

He nodded his agreement. "Only joking Maggie. I've got more sense than to cause trouble like that."

Margaret shook her head slightly. "What do you fancy then?"

He glanced briefly round the multicoloured stalls. "anything really, so long as it doesn't have almonds in."

She was surprised by his statement. "I thought you liked almonds," she said slowly. "I've seen you eating almonds. I'm sure I have."

"Yes, but not all the time," he said vehemently. "Haven't you noticed? They put them in absolutely everything. It's overdose on nuts time round here, and they even use it in that so called 'beauty cream'." He pointed to a green and white striped stall loaded with small pots and jars. "They eat them by the bucket full and then slap almond oil on their skin as well, for heaven's sake. I'm sure it can't be healthy."

"But you're Portuguese, I thought it was part of your diet."

"And you're Scottish, but I haven't seen you eating haggis."

"Well," she said slowly, "Scottish, yes, but only just. I was born near the South of the buffer zone, in Hartlepool. I like porridge though."

His eyes lit up. "No excuses," he laughed, "all Scots eat haggis, all English eat roast beef and in Hartlepool, they eat bananas."

"Ooh you're heading for a good smack now, Anton Defusto. You're Portuguese so you must like almonds. End of argument." The meaning of his last statement finally struck home. "Wait a minute, how do you know about the bananas?" she demanded.

He jogged away laughing and she chased him along the line of market stalls, finally catching up with him when they met Simon, who presented Anton with a small square of card covered in tiny handwriting. Explaining that it was the best he could do at short notice.

"Gaudy tea, Christus est natus, ex Maria? And what on earth is this word?"

Simon took over and spoke the words of the chorus as his free hand indicated the beat of the tune. In the end, he sang it softly to a frowning Marco.

Somewhere, in a place that was one tiny step sideways from reality as we know it, the song echoed faintly round a dark room, and at last it came to the notice of a creature whose job it was to listen for and categorise this type of input. The creature sent a runner down a long corridor to report to a certain room number, and sat there, wondering what the future would hold now.

Eventually, in room 678, the man turned to the woman. "Listen mother," he said. "They're singing our song."

She listened dutifully. "What language is that?" she queried.

"What language is that?" asked Anton. His frown getting deeper by the minute.

Margaret grinned. "Latin," she said gleefully, "and that's a bonus. Forget the words and you can make it up as you go along."

In room 678, the woman spoke. "Earth then, and I thought we had finished there."

"Apparently not." He sat in thought for a moment. "Do you know if there are any messengers available, mother?"

She shook her head ruefully. "Your father has given most of them other missions."

"Most of them?"

She nodded.

"So who is still here then?"

She gave him a knowing smile as she answered, "the French girl."

"Oh."

"Ask her," she suggested. "I am sure she can do it. She is over it now," and she held out her hand towards the door.

The door opened silently and a young girl entered. "Yes Lord?"

"Do you love your enemies Joan?"

"I do not hate them Lord."

The woman smiled encouragingly at her son, and he nodded his approval. "We have a small task for you young maid. Will you do it willingly, and in good spirit?"

"I still think it's crazy," moaned Anton as he gave up trying to pronounce the ancient words to Ricky's satisfaction.

"Plenty of time, we'll not be doing it for a day or two. We'll go somewhere private later on and try it out properly," said Margaret. "But first, I'll still buy you that breakfast, even though you insist on insulting me all the time."

After discussing the pro's and con's of the local stalls, they decided that toast and marmalade was probably safest, and they sat on the grass watching the proceedings.

Four more archers stepped forward to a round of scattered applause, and stepped over the low fence to take their positions for the next elimination round.

Margaret was on the verge of asking if anyone knew who the archers were, when someone stopped next to her and cast their shadow across her face.

She turned and blinked in the bright sunlight, and raised her hand to shade her eyes. Squinting, she said slowly, "Walter?" and leapt to her feet.

Walter stood before her, wearing baggy black trousers tied at the waist with a plaited leather belt, white shirt, soft black shoes, and sunglasses which had round blue lenses and gold frames.

"Walter," she repeated, "how are you?" and held out one hand towards him.

There were two young women with him, in the same colours but with skirts and ankle boots, and carrying long heavy canes. The taller of the pair stepped between Margaret and Walter.

"No touching," she stated flatly. "None but the chosen may touch the Lakeside man."

Margaret took a small step backwards and held her hands up apologetically, noticing that both women had immediately put their right hands onto their knife hilts.

She swallowed nervously. "OK sister, back off," then to Walter, "It's been too long since we last saw you, Walter."

She could discern no readable expression on his face as he answered her.

"Is it Easter yet?" he said in a low voice. "I haven't had my egg. Where's Jimmy then? I bet he gets an egg. Always lucky with eggs was Jimmy."

He turned and walked slowly away, towards and then past the archery field, his two escorts occasionally turning round to scowl menacingly in Margaret's direction.

"What the hell was that all about?" blurted out Anton.

Over by the fence there was laughter, quickly stifled, as one of the archers failed to hit the target which was about fifty paces distant.

Three of the Lakeside women were watching, and they made insulting comments as Tanya Vine stepped back from the mark.

"Doesn't seem to be at her best today does she?" commented one, loud enough for Tanya to hear, but she ignored them and turned the bow this way and that, looking for any obvious defects.

"Thought Homestead brats were supposed to be something special," suggested another.

Tanya carefully unstrung the borrowed bow and fitted another cord.

"Hey, homey bird, Is that the best you can do?" called out the third, who thought she could win the contest, if only that bloody Jade wasn't here. "I could do better than that blindfolded."

Tanya took the bait at last, and snapped back, "be careful who you're insulting, hopalong, you may regret it one day."

Sonia's left leg had been badly injured in the battle at Asher's farm, and she tried constantly to hide the limp that she had been left with, so at Tanya's riposte she started forward, throwing down her bow, snarling and scrabbling for her dagger, but her two friends grabbed her by the arms.

"Not here, not now," hissed Conti, as she and Solidad struggled to hold her back.

Messenger

The morning didn't get any better for Tanya as the borrowed bow seemed to have a mind of it's own, sending arrows in the general direction of the target, but with little accuracy. Although, at one point, if someone had been close enough, they would have heard Fizz whisper to Tanya, "don't make it too sodding obvious, you've got to hit the target sometimes."

So Tanya was eliminated from the contest, being almost the worst archer of the day, and shortly after noon, she was approached by Margaret with a request. Could Tanya please go to see cousin Consuela and suggest that Walter would benefit from some male company, and could he meet the others in the town church. Pretty please?

Naturally, Tanya was worried at the thought of going to the Lakesider's house, especially after the exchange with Sonia, but Margaret persuaded her to go, with Fizz for company, and along the way they were joined by Jade and Margo.

Tanya swallowed nervously and tried not to fidget under the unwavering gaze of the five Lakesiders standing around the room. She turned away from them to look out of the window, but the sight of Jade and Margo standing by the gate gave her little comfort. Firenza had no such fears, although her right hand was never far from the pocket where she kept her best friend. Her 'friend' was made of four heavy brass rings welded together, which slipped easily onto her fingers, like a piece of ornate jewellery. Unlike jewellery, which was supposed to be pleasing to the eye, this was designed to inflict maximum damage possible, and to instil fear into an opponent when they saw it.

At last the inner door opened. "Cousin Consuela will see you now."

Gratefully, they followed the skivvy to a small courtyard where Consuela was seated on a straight backed chair. In contrast to the heat of noon on a spring day, the courtyard was noticeably cooler, the energetic fountain in the centre no doubt contributing to the drop in temperature, and the two tall palm trees providing shady spots for the weary to rest in comfort.

Lakeside's cousin, or leader, was indulging in the luxury of a foot massage, a young girl kneeling on the floor before her, rubbing scented oils into her heels and soles.

"Welcome to our humble lodgings, cousin Tanya," said Consuela. "Or do you prefer prima?" She smiled warmly at her visitors. "No matter really. They mean the same thing after all. Spanish, English, Spanglish, we all speak the same language."

"Err..." Tanya was surprised and lost for words. She had always thought that 'prima' meant something like 'first', or 'best'. Prima meant cousin? How disappointing.

"How rude of me," continued Consuela. "Do be seated dear, and have some refreshment." She indicated the padded chair next to her own and Tanya stepped round the kneeling girl and carefully sat in the delicate looking chair.

"A seat for the noble companion," Consuela said to no one in particular, and the skivvy came forward and placed a low stool by the fountain, then fetched a tray of drinks and small fruits.

Tanya took a glass and nervously whispered her thanks.

The woman dressed all in black behind Consuela bent and whispered in her leader's ear, and Tanya's enhanced hearing picked out the word 'dress'.

"Ah, yes, thank you Sybil." She turned her attention to Tanya's slightly soiled dress. "I hear that your new style of dress has attracted some attention in the town, and some marriage ceremonies are being planned, even as we speak?"

Tanya breathed a sigh of relief. A safe subject to start with. "Yes, err... cousin Consuela. Since the film show, the women here have taken a fancy to be wedded to Ricardo and we've been asked to make some gowns for cousin Gloria, so we plan to start on them as soon as we return to Ibis."

"Cousin Gloria has a good eye for fashion, I'm sure, and where Altmore leads then we should be happy enough to follow."

Tanya nodded wisely, not sure what to say.

"We must talk business before you leave for home, prima Tanya, as a selection of gowns in this marvellous material should surely be a welcome addition to Lakeside's streets." She took a sip of wine then suddenly said, "oh look at your poor hands," and took Tanya's right hand in her own. "Look at this, Ana," she said to the girl at her feet, who dutifully examined Tanya's broken nails.

"Clean, file, buff, paint and polish. 12 minutes tops," said Ana confidently and at Consuela's slight nod, went to collect her nail kit.

Fizz helped herself to another handful of sultanas and checked her own nails, then shrugged her shoulders. Nails were nails as far as she was concerned. Pretty was for flowers and girls. Girly girls, if you know what I mean.

"You had an unfortunate time this morning I believe?"

Tanya grimaced. "Yes cousin, I haven't brought my own bow and just couldn't get the feel of the one I borrowed."

"Well, no loss on your part really. I assume that Jade is sure to win again."

"I suppose so," answered Tanya, still unsure of the right answers. That Jade Bowyer or Ivy Tulip won every year was a sore point for the Western villages, who had no one who could match them. The only good thing was that Homestead never sent more than two archers, so that the West could win the team event.

"Me, Fizz and Margo might enter the team trial if cousin Gloria will allow me to try a different bow. I'm going to ask her this afternoon."

Consuela struggled not to laugh out loud. She had heard all about Tanya's feeble efforts at the butts. "I'm sure that you will do better my dear."

Then, as Ana started applying the red lacquer, Consuela came to the point and asked if this was just a social visit?

Here it came, the tricky bit, and Fizz watched with interest as Tanya squirmed and went a similar colour to the nail paint. "Well," she started, and went haltingly into the speech she had been rehearsing for the last hour. "I'm here on behalf of the other men. And Walter as well really."

Consuela went wide eyed and raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Tanya swallowed hard. "What the others said was, that they think Walter should join them for a while, to, err... bond was the word, yes, bond."

"And what pray, is this 'bond'?"

"It's something men have to do sometimes. They sit and talk about man stuff, tell man jokes and things like that." She looked from Consuela to Sybil and back again. "It's good for them apparently, makes them feel better about themselves or something?"

Sybil bent forward again to whisper her advice, and Tanya heard some of it, something like, "nothing to lose, worth a try."

"Where do they plan to meet?"

"In the town church, cousin," answered Tanya quietly, and glad that her ordeal was almost over.

Consuela made an instant decision. "Ana, bring Walter, Maria and Sophie," then to Tanya, "thank you for your kind visit. We shall talk to dear Walter, and perhaps he will agree to meet his former companions."

She rose from her chair and stood there, making it obvious that the meeting was over. "Sybil will show you out."

Sybil showed them only as far as the next room, where they stood in silence again under the watchful gaze of Sonia, Conti and Solidad.

At last, Sybil returned and told them that Walter would be at the church in about two hours time. They left the house, Fizz strolling nonchalantly down the path, Tanya forcing herself not to run or look back.

Chapter 7

### Bread and wine

When Consuela gave Walter the news that he was going to church that afternoon, he was careful to keep his emotions in check and even Sybil, the 'bitch queen' as Walter privately called her, could detect no hint of his elation. He had to see Jimmy, who he had worked with in engineering on the Hood for seven years.

The only downside was the company he had been given as escort and guard, the same pair of sullen morons who had accosted Margaret that morning, but Walter was a fatalist, and accepted their presence as he had accepted all his misfortunes of the previous year. They walked in silence towards the town, for the second time that day, and Walter asked them to walk on his left so that the breeze took the sharp scent of their perfume away from him. God, it was awful stuff. He preferred freshly washed bodies, or to a certain extent, unwashed ones.

Town centre was nearly deserted, the usual practice of siesta not being abandoned, even for the Easter fair. Two black and white cats, all muscle and sinew, watched a tawny, scrawny dog gnawing on an old bone, wondering no doubt, if it was worth the effort to try and steal it. The animals, and an old woman who was sitting under a shade tree and languidly waving a fan, were the only signs of life in the square.

"Going in here," said Walter suddenly, catching the women by surprise.

"What?" exclaimed Maria.

"Got to pee. Need to use the pot." Which was not strictly true, but it was his last chance to think about what he was trying to achieve.

The interior of the Swan was dark and gloomy after the bright sunshine outside, and Walter squinted as he looked round the empty room.

"Hello," he called out, and was answered sleepily from behind a curtained doorway.

"Help yourself, leave the money on the counter."

Walter shrugged. Not much chance of anyone from Lakeside having money in their pockets. Consuela and Sybil kept the purse strings very tight.

In the back lot, the situation changed as Walter left the closet, looking down as he fastened his belt. The gleam of a brass coin caught his eye, and he chuckled as he recited the good luck charm from his childhood. "See it gleam, see it shine, pick it up and fortune's mine." As he retrieved the coin he saw another in the dirt, then another, and he finally had six in total. All of small value, and no silver among them so not a great fortune, but he now possessed the grand sum of eighty five cents.

He stopped at the bar and surveyed the bottles on the shelf.

"Sod it," he muttered, "why not?"

Outside, Sophie looked in surprise at the bottle and loaf of bread that Walter placed on the table in front of her.

"Isn't this stealing?" she queried. "I thought you were in enough trouble already."

God, they were prize arseholes, these two, he thought.

Maria joined in. "Put them back fathead, we won't be sharing your blame."

Walter's temper snapped at last. He'd had enough of this precious pair. Sophie was nearest and he grabbed her by the throat. "Mine," he snarled. "Paid for." Then to Maria, "sit down bitch, or I'll stick her, here and now."

Sophie gave a squeak of fear as she realised that Walter was holding her knife in his free hand. The tension slowly leaked out of the situation and Walter threw the knife on the table and retreated into the Swan again, where he sat on the floor behind the bar until his fit of trembling stopped. He finally took notice of what he was looking at. A row of bottles on the lower shelf, and one in particular which caught his eye.

'Los Angeles' he read. "California?" he thought, "can't be, surely."

He took it from the shelf, and pulling out the protruding cork, waved the bottle under his nose, breathing deeply.

"Sod it," he muttered again, "why not?"

Sophie flinched as Walter sat beside her and placed the mugs of wine on the table, pushing one towards each of them. Walter was 49, or so they thought, but kept himself physically fit, and she hadn't realised how strong he was, and his attack, however brief had shaken her badly.

"Sorry," he said. "Things have been bad for me lately, but I shouldn't have done it."

"You hurt me," Sophie said, and pouted.

"Sorry," he repeated.

"It's still stealing," stated Maria.

Walter raised one hand, and Sophie flinched again. "Not so," he explained, "found some coins in the yard, and left them on the counter."

Maria shrugged her shoulders. "Why do you need bread and wine though? Not starving you are we?"

"It's for a gift," he answered, and they sat sipping their wine in silence.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible

The church on the East side of the square was a plain affair on the outside, with a weather beaten double door and an inscription carved into the stonework of the archway above. 'NUESTRA SEÑORA DE LA NOCHE'

Walter, Sophie and Maria paused a moment before the door and the three of them brushed imaginary dirt from their clothes and the girls ran their fingers through their hair. Sophie rubbed her neck and Walter whispered, "sorry," again. He peered anxiously at her throat for any sign of bruising. There would be hell to pay if Consuela got to hear about their little scuffle.

Sophie gave him a little smile. "Doesn't hurt," she told him, but was lying.

Walter pushed the door open and they entered the quiet world that was Altmore's church of 'our lady of the night'.

It was not set out like the churches that Walter remembered from his school days, inasmuch as there were chairs instead of the long benches he had grown up fidgeting on, and neither was there an altar, but a table instead. Sad candles stood unlit in alcoves along each wall, and the alcoves also held statuettes of miserable looking men and women. Probably the local saints or benefactors, thought Walter as he took it all in, in one quick glance.

His heart leapt. They were all here, including Margaret and three other women he didn't know. Handshakes and back slapping all round, with his two minders never far away, monitoring his every move and word, as per Consuela's instructions.

But he only spoke to the women, not touching, 'don't rock the boat' he thought, let's survive this meeting intact.

It was, 'hi Marco, where did those muscles come from?' And 'hi Jimmy, been seasick lately?' And 'yo there Simon, how are the cookery lessons going?'

Small talk, innocent stuff, idle chatter of no consequence.

Sophie rubbed her neck again. She was hot and bored, her throat had an annoying tingle and she was feeling strangely light headed.

Maria felt the same. The wine had left an odd aftertaste in her mouth. She licked her lips and really needed a long cold drink.

So the men talked of nothing and the six women looked idly on, until Walter asked them to take their seats for the service.

They were somewhat surprised, but shouldn't have been, it was a church after all, and they obediently sat as Walter went to stand at the table.

He started hesitantly, asking for God to send heavenly guidance to aid him through the service as he stood in for Gudrun, their pastor. Anton raised his eyebrows in query at Margaret, and exchanged mystified glances with some of the others, but none of them spoke, not wanting to stop Walter, who was getting into his stride now.

He was speaking of life on board the Hood, the Christian ship of the three mining vessels. (Hawk, dedicated to Islam was the only one still in orbit and functioning)

He asked for God's forgiveness for their lapse in faith in the ensuing years and commended Gudrun's soul to His eternal care. Then he took the bread and held it forward in both hands.

"And on the same night that He was betrayed, Jesus broke the bread and said, 'take it and eat, this is my body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of me.' " Walter dramatically broke the bread and passed the two halves to the others after taking a small piece for himself. He rubbed his forehead, he had a headache coming on and felt slightly dizzy.

He signalled to Maria and she jumped up when Sophie nudged her. Opening the bag they had taken from the inn, she set out the borrowed shot glasses and poured a little wine into each of them as he had described to her, although she thought that a thimble of wine would be of no use to anyone. She could do with a whole bottle to herself. After the glasses were placed around the edge of the table, Walter continued.

"In the same way, after the supper, He took the cup, saying, 'this cup is a new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.' Drink this as often as you meet and declare your faith in the Lord until He comes again."

He beckoned them all forward. "Come, stand with me."

They took their places and Walter continued, "in remembrance of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. Amen."

They added their 'amens' and drank the wine.

"And now, we will sing the first verse of my favourite hymn. I doubt we can remember much more than one verse, so it will suffice."

Smiles all round. Some embarrassed, and others relieved that it was nearly over.

"Number 76, 'what a friend we have in Jesus'. 76 in the book of Holy Ordnance"

Jimmy looked up suddenly and found Walter staring at him.

"Margaret, will you give us the first line please, for the key," he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Jimmy.

Only seven of them were singing, the women of this day and age not knowing the words or tune and it was soon finished, even though they sang it twice, and as they sang, the alcoves of the saints lit up with an ethereal light.

He made the sign of the cross as he said the benediction, "may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all, now and always."

There was a moments silence, before Margaret remembered to join in as she used to do on board the Hood, "and all Gods children said...?"

The men responded, as she knew they would, with a long drawn out, "aaamen."

As is the way of these things, the level of small talk rose again now that the service was over, and Margaret was approached by a young girl, who had come in late.

"You are speaking English," she stated in an accusing tone of voice.

Margaret agreed that, yes, it was a form of English they were using.

"Are you English then?"

Margaret shook her head. "No, I'm Scottish."

"Scottish? Ah, Ecosse. And him?" She pointed at Marco and the others in turn, until Margaret said that Walter was indeed English.

"Then I must talk to him," and she went to stand in front of Walter.

Sophie wanted to shoo the girl away, but couldn't concentrate. She was all hot and bothered and Maria was off to one side, searching in vain for something to drink.

"You are English," the girl said. It wasn't a question now.

"Yes, hello. Do I know you?"

"No, my name is Joan, and I am a messenger."

Sophie paid more attention, this could be trouble.

"I have been tormented by my demons, but they are banished now and can say to you, even though you are English, I forgive you."

Walter's mouth opened and closed but he could think of nothing to say, being perplexed by the statement.

"More than forgiveness, Walter Englishman. You are troubled also, but in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I bless you, and say to you, be well again."

She made the sign of the cross on his forehead, then turned and went to kneel in front of one of the alcoves.

Maria watched her go, then looked at Sophie. "Crazy bitch," and then to Walter, "are we done here?"

He nodded. "We can go now."

Having delivered his message, there was nothing to be gained by staying, but whether Jimmy was bright enough to understand it was another matter.

They collected the glasses, said their farewells and left the building.

Margaret was getting agitated. Louisa, the old woman who looked after the church was carefully examining every alcove after warning Margaret that she would have to pay for any damage caused by the foreigners stupid lights. Could have burnt the blasted place down, bloody yokels.

Time and again, Ricardo assured Margaret that it was nothing to do with him, and the silly old bat was trying to screw money out of them for something she herself had done. She had no time to pursue the subject as she was then accosted by the two women who were wearing faded pink blouses under travel stained cloaks.

"We heard about your god, and came to see for ourselves."

"We know now," said the second one mysteriously.

"Three days before he returned, your man said," and she pointed towards Marco.

"Three days," repeated the second, nodding wisely. "About right, three days, if there's not too much damage."

Margaret looked from one to the other in a state of incomprehension. "Sorry?"

The odd pair looked round in a conspiratorial manner and together pulled up their left sleeves to give Margaret a brief glimpse of a tattoo of a stylised fish on their upper arms. She put her hand to her throat and fingered the golden fish on it's chain.

"We thought it was a god at first."

"We know better now," added the second.

"The eternal fish is only a symbol of the resurrection."

They turned as one and bowed towards an alcove in the side wall.

In the recess above the kneeling Joan was a statue of a saint with an enormous fish spread across his outstretched arms.

Margaret's mind was reeling. What nonsense was this, she wondered, but got no chance to speak her mind.

One of the women grasped her by the hand. "Come to us Margret of Valens, we need you. Come to Algar and tell us what we need to know and do."

She grasped Margaret's hand and lightly kissed her fingers, then the pair of them turned and left without waiting for an answer.

Her attention was then grabbed by the diminutive Joan at her elbow.

"Margaret Valence," she mused. "Possibly an Italian name? Not English at all, not even Scottish I think."

"What is happening here?" asked Margaret getting more baffled by the minute.

Joan ignored the question. "I too was a commander of men. Look." She touched the scar at her neck. "English arrow, but I forgive them. I forgive them all now."

Margaret squeezed her eyes shut and tried to put her thoughts in order.

"He'll not be happy if he sees that," and Joan indicated the statue of the fish carrier. "It's supposed to be Anietus, but it looks just like Michael," she chuckled. "Or perhaps he will see the funny side? I have to go now, commander Valence, but I hope to see you again. Sing for Him again soon, our Lord likes the old songs."

She was gone. One moment there, the next... gone. Margaret sat down on the nearest chair and held her head in her hands. She had missed her dinner and was feeling faint. "Take me home somebody," she whispered. "Anybody?"

Jimmy came over to her. "Maggie?"

She looked up and rubbed her tired eyes. "Yes pet?"

He cleared his throat and had a puzzled look. "I think we have a problem."

Oh we're in trouble now

They had only meant to stop at the Swan long enough to put the borrowed glasses back, but Maria insisted on having a drink and a rest somewhere cool. Both her and Sophie's faces were practically glowing now, and Walter readily agreed to a short break. He was happy now that his secret mission had been successfully completed, but that could not account for the feeling of utter joy and abandonment that was welling up inside him. Sophie and Walter sat together on one side of a table while Maria lay stretched out on the bench opposite. She had drunk a cupful of deliciously cold water taken from the olla hanging in the porch, and her eyes were now closed.

Walter leaned slightly towards Sophie. Perhaps that perfume wasn't so bad after all, he thought. He moved her hair to the side with one finger to check for bruising again.

"Is it really OK now?" he whispered, not wanting to disturb Maria.

She shook her head a little. "No," she confessed, "it's a bit sore."

"Forgive me," he said and as his left hand slid slowly round her shoulders his lips gently kissed that special place behind her ear.

Her eyes went wide in astonishment, and her mouth opened but she could not speak.

She sat there panting heavily while he lay his head on her shoulder and whispered nonsense to her, his right hand slowly caressing her arm and occasionally, accidentally, touching her breast.

"Sweet Sophie, what a fool I've been. You're an angel from heaven and I should be worshipping you. Beautiful, beautiful girl of my dreams." And when not praising her, his lips paid homage to her neck with silky kisses.

Her head was spinning and she couldn't help it. Her right hand moved of it's own accord and she found herself gripping Walter's left thigh. She squeezed his leg in response to his busy little fingers which were now stimulating her nipples to grow to new heights.

"Walter," she gasped. "You can't... no... you mustn't... no... we shouldn't."

At last he stifled her arguments with a deep kiss and her resistance was gone.

It was now his turn to be surprised, at what strength she had, as she wrestled him to the floor and knelt astride him, fumbling with the knot in his belt and pulling his trousers down.

Her right hand slid down across his abdomen and she groaned as she gripped his swollen manhood. "Es demasiado grande," she whispered. "No esta posible."

He wasn't too big though, and it was possible, but the sharp moment of penetration made both of them gasp with pain, and in Walter's case with pride and joy as well. He'd had a lot on his mind lately, and was at that difficult age, when desire was fading, when libido took a back seat, and he had not felt like this for a long time. Maria was wide awake and her eyes were bulging as she watched Sophie ride him slowly, concentrating on her own pleasure. She couldn't really believe what she was seeing, not after the whispered stories she had heard about Walter's non-performances with the chosen ones. Her right hand was beneath her skirt and moving in time with Sophie's undulations, but all too soon Sophie was moving faster and faster. Too soon, too soon, she gave a long drawn out moan of ecstasy as she reached her climax, and fell forward to lay gasping for breath against Walter's neck.

It was all too fast for Walter, and he was still hard inside her.

She looked up and gazed into his eyes. "Oh Walter! Que peña!" she whispered huskily. "Una mas vez?"

Maria jumped up at the words. "Oh no you don't," she said fiercely, pulling Sophie away and straddling Walter in her place. "Once is enough for anyone."

It was just as quick the second time around, but Walter was like a primed cannon and he exploded at the same time as Maria, their groans of pleasure echoing round the empty tavern.

A sleepy voice called out from the other room, "leave the money on the counter."

They had a fit of the giggles but managed to calm down, get dressed and leave before the sleeper emerged, and it wasn't until they neared the Lakesider's house that the doubts started to creep in.

"There's going to be trouble," said Sophie.

"We are so deep in it now," replied Maria.

"No problemo," laughed Walter.

"Look at us," Sophie whined. "We're filthy."

"And she's torn your trousers," added Maria.

"Badges of honour," Walter explained. "We go in with heads held high girls. You're going to be heroes."

"But we're not the chosen ones."

"I never will be. I'm not even on the list."

Walter stopped and held them both to him.

"Why would you not be chosen?"

Maria averted her eyes and Sophie answered for her. "She's blonde."

He frowned. "So?"

"So I'm not pure Lakeside," Maria said with venom. "So I'm not good enough."

"You are good enough, and I choose you," he said softly, "and that's all that matters."

He looked towards the house where someone was leaning against the door, watching them with obvious interest.

"In military matters," he told them, "attack is the best form of defence. We go straight in and go for the jugular. Don't wait for Consuela and the bitch queen to send for us, we walk right in and put our foot down with a firm hand."

They had no idea what he was going on about but took some comfort from his bold attitude, and went up the path as Walter suggested, with heads held high.

Chapter 8

### Doing it by the book

The watcher at the door had gone inside by the time they got there, presumably to warn someone of their imminent arrival, and as they entered the hallway, Walter could hear voices in the reception room. He opened the door and looked in.

"Hola chicas," he called out flippantly, "buenas tardes, como... como something or other."

The three occupants stared at him in surprise. Walter never spoke Spanish.

"Anyway," he continued, "nice to see you again. Hasta luego."

"She'll be upstairs," he said quietly to Sophie and Maria as he shut the door, then he started up the stone staircase.

"Walter," hissed Maria, "do you know what you're doing?"

He shook his head. "Nope, not a clue cariña, but I'll go and talk to her, while you keep the rabble away."

Pausing outside Consuela's bedroom door, he listened for a moment then shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe, maybe not," he whispered. "Go and mind the stairs for me."

The two women exchanged worried glances then went to the top of the staircase, while Walter quietly turned the brass handle and slowly pushed the heavy door open.

Ana gave a little gasp of surprise when she turned and saw him standing there, and Consuela's back massage stopped abruptly.

"Don't stop now you stupid girl, keep going or you're out on the street again."

Walter had reached the bedside and at the slight incline of his head towards the door, Ana fled from the room.

As his large hands settled on her shoulder blades, Consuela's eyes flew wide open.

"Ana?"

"She had to leave suddenly."

"What the devil?" she exclaimed, and tried to turn over to confront him.

He held her, face down on the bed. "We have to talk, cousin."

"Talk, you crazy bastard? Help," she yelled. "Someone help me."

He pressed his finger tips into her yielding flesh and she gave a yelp of fear. "You don't need help. I am no danger to you, and I just want to do my best for you."

"Best? Best? What in heaven's name are you talking about?"

His hands had moved to a new place, and she gave a little shiver, despite the heat of the afternoon.

"I can do this better than Ana," he told her. "I had a very good teacher."

"What? What do you want?"

"I realise that you're disappointed with me. You think that Homestead has done you wrong by sending me to you, but I want a chance to redeem myself. I want you to relax and let me prove my worth to you. Let me start now."

He slowly eased the restraining pressure off his hands and moved them slowly down her back. Her immediate thought was that he was going to violate her, but as his hands moved over her buttocks, he kept them to the outside of her thighs and slowly, so very slowly, they slid ever downwards and he started to massage her calf muscles.

His parents had never been well off, even though one branch of the family was well connected, and when his grandfather died in the short and almost bloodless civil war with Scotland, the family fortunes dipped even further. When he left school, his aunt Ariel had taken him 'under her wing', and given him a comprehensive, if somewhat alarming education in the art of seduction. Under her guidance, he had become an adonis, a sex god, and he paid his way through college by the simple expedient of his aunt Ariel 'lending him' to her rich friends who were keen to have the attentions of a discreet, and so very handsome young man.

He knew what women wanted, and he gave it to them, by the book. He had only done it 'by the book' with his commander, Margaret Valence on one occasion, and she made him swear never to do it like that again. She had missed a whole shift afterwards while she recovered from the morning of love play, and the ship's captain had not been amused.

For some reason, Sophie had been easy to arouse and he hadn't had to try that hard, and then Maria had virtually raped him, but for Consuela, it was going to be 'by the book' again.

Consuela considered her options and thought about making a dash for the door, but the crafty bastard was on the door side of the bed. Well, she'd just bide her time and catch him unawares, when he had his hands in the oil pot maybe. Then her chance was gone, as his hands and fingers worked their spell on her.

His hands had reached the small of her back on their journey of pleasure, and the aroma of spiced oil filled the room. As Consuela relaxed even more, she was surprised to find that Walter had been right, that he was better than Ana, and she was slightly disappointed that his probing fingers had noticeably avoided any contact with her triangle of love.

Upward, ever upward worked his hands, and his fingers beat a strange tattoo along the length of her spine. There was no resistance from her when he gently rolled her onto her back and her heart started to beat even faster as his clever hands worked their magic on her now receptive body.

More oil, more magic, more pleasure, and she was soon moaning incoherently.

"Now," she whispered, and like Sophie had done, she pulled his trousers off and threw them across the room.

He knelt between her thighs, the tip of his masculinity resting just within her gates of paradise. She struggled to pull him into her, but he resisted.

"Say please," he breathed into her ear.

"Oh please," she whispered back.

"Louder," he commanded.

Maria and Sophie were fast approaching the point of having to get violent.

Ana had rushed past them down the stairs and gone to find help, which came back up the staircase in the shape of Sonia, Conti and Solidad, who were unable to get higher than where Maria and Sophie stood firm on the seventh step.

"No," said Sophie again, as Sonia tried in vain to reason with her. "It's a personal meeting and none of us are invited."

"Ana says..."

"Ana talks too much for a kitchen slut and she should keep her mouth shut."

"But she said that he had murder in his eyes."

"Ha! Just shows what she knows then. Walter couldn't hurt anyone." Maria informed her, conveniently forgetting about Sophie's bruised neck.

The moaning started then and Conti gasped. "What's he doing to her?"

"Hopefully," said Maria slowly, "the same as he did to us."

"And what pray, would that be?" asked Sybil who arrived at last with Ana in tow.

"Something you probably wouldn't know about," sneered Sophie.

"Please. Please damn you. PLEASE." Consuela's voice got louder and her calls echoed down the corridor.

The Lakesiders stood there open mouthed, as her cries and squeals carried on.

"What the fuck is going on?" demanded Sonia.

Sophie laughed. "Precisely that. With a bit of luck, me and Maria are both pregnant."

They stared at her, not comprehending at first what she meant.

"And in a few minutes or so, Connie might be as well."

But ten minutes later, the noises from the bedroom indicated that Consuela was still in the realms of sexual heaven. The girls were sitting in embarrassed silence on the steps now, and at last Sophie gave a sigh and said to Sonia, "come on girl, we're doing each other no favours here. Let's go and talk about it in the kitchen."

Mixed blessings

At last, Walter allowed Consuela to return back to earth from the high plateau of ecstasy that he had lifted her to, and she slept in his arms, in the dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion.

He allowed himself a little smile of satisfaction and silently said 'thank you' to aunt Ariel. He still had the gift.

A kilometre away, Bridget crossed the square again and re-entered the Swan. She had been to ask dopey Dora if she had seen who had been inside while she had been having her siesta. Yes, Dora had said, it was them two doxies from Lakeside with their man.

Bridget chuckled. She had been angry at first when she found the nearly empty bottle of 'Los Angeles', but then saw the funny side of it, and thought she could sell a few more bottles of her special brew if things went right. Los Angeles had been called Angels Wings a few years ago, and before that, Fairy Wings, before fairies became unfashionable. The main ingredient was from a strange looking plant that had once been called, so the story went, horny goat weed which was supposed to be a powerful aphrodisiac. Allegedly.

Bridget chuckled again as she thought of the profit she could make. She would ask if they'd had an interesting afternoon, and then mention her elixir of love.

Far away, and at the same time so very near, in that strange clearing house that is in the doorway between heaven and hell, Joan had returned to room 678.

"Yes Master," she said reverentially. "They are good people, but need guidance."

"And what of yourself?"

She smiled with the joy of remembering. "I met an Englishman."

"And all was well?"

"Yes Lord. I blessed him, in your name Lord."

Jesus nodded in satisfaction. "You have done well young Jeanne d'Arc. It seems we are staying a little while longer and may need your services again."

Oh good, thought Joan, and with a bit of luck, I can be there when Michael turns up. He will go absolute potty when he sees that statue of Anietus. He's allergic to fish and he'll probably wet himself.

What a difference a day makes

Morning again, and Maria was no longer 'not good enough', thanks to Walter explaining to Consuela the power of opposite attraction. It was all fairy tale stuff but being an engineer, he made it sound logical, with some North and South, yin and yang and finally getting around to dark and blonde girls. Sybil was highly sceptical but Consuela waved her objections away. After the previous afternoon and night, Walter could do no wrong in her eyes.

Dark and blonde, Sophie and Maria were sauntering round the market stalls when they spotted Margaret at last and rapidly made a bee line for her.

"We were rude yesterday, and want to say sorry," Sophie told her.

Margaret looked askance at them. "Right." she said slowly.

Maria then addressed her, "We know now that he is special."

Margaret nodded cautiously. What were these two weirdos after?

"Yesterday we despised him, but after the church, well he was a new man."

"And now we love him," added Maria. "he's magnificent," she whispered.

Sophie lowered her voice and said, "did you hear the dogs in the night?"

Margaret nodded again, the howling had gone on for ages. She had assumed there was a wolf in the area.

Sophie's voice dropped to a whisper, "Cousin Consuela."

"What?"

"Cousin Consuela started them off."

Margaret looked blankly at them and Sophie explained.

"She was making such a noise when Walter almost killed her," and her eyes sparkled with excitement. "He nearly sexed her to death, and she had to have breakfast taken up to her room this morning."

Maria took up the story now, "and it's Sophie's turn tonight. If she can wait that long. He didn't finish her off properly in the Swan yesterday."

Margaret's jaw dropped with surprise and she didn't know what to say, as Sophie blushed and fidgeted with embarrassment

"And we bring you a gift," Maria continued. "To say thankyou and sorry."

"Why thankyou girls," said Margaret forcing her mouth to smile as she accepted the present. "How unusual. What made you think of bananas?"

Sophie looked round, "Your man," she said pointing. "The big one over there."

Margaret looked where she pointed. "Fine, that's just fine. Well, if you'll excuse me I have to go and kill someone."

She spun round and started running but Anton was already trotting away from her.

"What odds did we get?" asked Tanya when Marco returned.

He showed her the betting slip, headed 'Pauline's Pleasure Parlour'.

She read it slowly, not being the best reader in the world. " 'Five pounds stake at seven to one that Ibis will win the team archery contest'. Good."

"You do realise," he said, "that if you don't win, then we'll be eating grass till we get home?"

Tanya shrugged her shoulders. "No problemo," she answered flippantly. "With your new bow I can match anyone here."

"Anyone?"

"Well, obviously not Jade or Ivy. Or Margo. Or Fizz either if it comes to that, but just about anybody else."

"Baaaaa," went Marco, "Look out grass, here we come."

"Hush children," said Margo, "they're beginning."

Then they began the boring formalities of enrolling for the team event, each village's representatives being asked if they were entering a team, and the Western villagers relaxed a lot more when Jade declined to step forward. She had thought that she, Sylvia and Anton could have given them a good fright, but Sylvia didn't think that it would be right for a man to take part, so it would be Westerners only as usual.

To cheers from their respective followers, the archers stepped up to put their names on the board. Tintown, Lakeside, Altmore and Central had all come forward when an ironic cheer came from one section of the crowd.

Tanya, Margo and Fizz pushed their way to the front and stepped over the rope barrier. Tanya's miserable performance in the singles shoot off was still being talked about and she had to ignore the caustic comments being called out.

Things like, _"it's the beast from the East. Got any straight arrows this time? Want to go home now love, save yourself some time."_

Fizz wasn't going to let them get away with it though, and when she twisted her brass 'friend' in a certain way, a tiny razor sharp blade appeared on one side which casually ripped at least two linen shirts from side to side as she shouldered her way through the crowd.

All the archers carried a bow, except Tanya who had a long bag with her. As the others strung their bows, Tanya opened the bag and took out the strangest piece of equipment that anyone there had ever seen. Resembling a harp that had been designed by a committee, the compound bow was a cat's cradle of cords strung between grooved cams at each end of a latticework of metal. Jimmy had been working on them for a year now, and although the first one had been a total disaster, this one, the fourth, was the best so far. He had given it to Marco, because Marco was useless with a spear, dangerous to himself with a sword and lethal to his friends with an axe.

Then the trouble began.

Sonia was livid. "You can't use a crossbow, it's cheating."

"It's not a crossbow," Tanya said gently. Now was the time to stay calm. Let others do the shouting.

"It's not your bow, you said you hadn't brought it."

"Gloria said I could use it."

"You're a fucking cheat, she said no such thing."

"Ask her."

Cousin Gloria and her entourage sat under a huge sunshade and she watched the growing dispute with unease.

"Bring them here," she said to one of her lackeys.

Sonia and Tanya stood before her and Gloria admitted that the previous day, she had indeed told Tanya that she could borrow another's bow to enter the team event.

Sonia was furious, and demanded that Tanya was thrown out of the contest. Out of the village as well if possible.

"But it's just a bow," she explained. "I lay the arrow, draw and loose. Simple."

"It's not just a bow," shouted Sonia, "Look at it. It's a bloody machine."

Gloria was not happy with Sonia's attitude and fast losing her patience so she made her decision. "I said to prima Tanya," and she stressed the title 'prima', "that she could use a different bow, and this bow; well, it's very different is it not?"

There were no more arguments, only dark mutterings between the Lakesiders, and the contest began, and began badly for Sonia who let her team mates down by not scoring any golds in the first round. Neither did Tanya, who was the weak link in her team, but Fizz did well, and three of Margo's four arrows found the centre gold.

Each team member had to shoot four arrows and the lowest scoring team after each round was eliminated. Margo's efforts put them in first place, for the time being, and Central went out first.

Sonia was regaining her composure again and started to find the middle of the target, which had been pushed out to forty metres distance for the second round.

Tintown went out, with Lakeside only two points behind Ibis.

Fifty metres and the treetops were waving in the intermittent breeze. Altmore out but the prospect of eating grass was looming larger as the Lakesiders settled down.

Only Ibis and Lakeside left in the contest and the two targets were now at sixty metres. Gold, blue or white, and the white was less than a metre in diameter. Tanya had drawn the short straw and had to go first. Her whole world was narrowed down to that far circle and she turned the adjusting screw until the pointer was on the '60'.

The bow was half raised and then lowered again to catcalls from the partisan crowd. She closed her eyes and let her mind see the target. She altered the sighting screw to '59' and lifted the bow again. Lay, draw and loose. Simple. If only the wind had not been so cruel. She missed and the crowd's jeers grew louder.

The first round wasn't a total disaster though, as the wind was playing havoc with them all, and Tanya stepped up to the mark again with her side on seven points to Lakesides eight. The conventional bows were literally a pain to draw and then hold for any length of time while waiting for the wind to drop. Pulling and holding the eighteen kilos of the bow's tension made shoulder muscles burn at first, then scream with agony.

Marco's compound bow was set at twenty kilos but because of some strange phenomenon of mechanical advantage, only needed about five kilos to hold at full draw. Tanya did not have the muscular shoulders of the regular archers, but could still bide her time while waiting for a lull in the breeze.

She hit the target. White and only one point, but an improvement. All the others got blue and two points each, so Lakeside led by fourteen to twelve.

Tanya swore as she only got one point again, but took heart when Conti followed her into the white. The other four were blue again and it was Sonia's turn to swear as her arrow sat just outside the gold. Nineteen to seventeen and only one more round.

Tanya drew back her final arrow and whispered a little prayer, then held, and held, and held, and loose. Please, she mouthed as the missile sped away from her.

Blue. Two points, and probably the best that she could hope for at that distance.

Conti, only one. Fizz, two again, good old Fizz. Solidad's nerves got the better of her and she only just hit the edge of the target, one point. It was now twenty one points each with only Margo and Sonia still to shoot.

Margo took her time as she selected an arrow, rejecting some by rolling them across her palm and deciding they were out of true, and others by not liking the lay of the goose feathers. At last she was satisfied and as she aimed, she used some mental magic of her own, pretending that the target was Marco, who she had tried to kill at Asher's farm.

"Shit!" She angrily swore to herself, and the Lakesiders smirked as she walked away, after watching her carefully chosen arrow miss the gold by the narrowest of margins.

Sonia was ecstatic and confidently took her place at the mark. Only one more gold and we will be rich, she thought, no more begging Consuela to give them a few cents here and there.

The wind had dropped. Draw, aim and loose. Damn!

She couldn't believe her eyes, as the runner at the targets signalled another blue, and Gloria's personal bean counter proclaimed it a draw at twenty three points each.

There was pandemonium as the Ibis team and supporters congratulated one another, while the Lakesiders bitterly complained to and about each other. Then Gloria asked for quiet, and told each team to choose one member to shoot again.

The first choice was obviously going to be Margo against Sonia, but Tanya had other plans.

"Cousin Gloria," she began, "Sonia had a wonderful idea yesterday, and I wondered if we could do something like she herself suggested."

Sonia's head whipped round and she stared at Tanya with hatred. What was the little cow up to now?

Gloria looked from one to the other and knew who she liked best. "And what was that idea?" she asked.

"Bring the targets back to thirty metres and we'll do it blindfold."

"Oh shit," muttered Simon to Jade, and she nodded in agreement. They had seen Tanya two years ago, running blindfolded across the battlefield at Asher's farm to kill Central's high priestess. She had not put a foot wrong that day, but almost no one else had witnessed the strange scene.

"This may get out of hand," Jade said quietly. "Get ready for trouble."

Sonia reluctantly agreed to the strange contest and drew the short straw, so had to go first. She chose Solidad to be her aimer and they stood together on the mark surveying the target. They had actually done this before and expected to score with three of their four arrows.

At last the scarf was tied round Sonia's head and she nocked the arrow. Bow down, raise and pull back. Solidad stood behind her, talking softly. "Higher, right, left, loose." Sonia stood in darkness while Soli watched the arrow and target.

"White to the right and low," she murmered, then placed the second arrow into Sonia's waiting hand.

Next was a blue, and the next, then, oh glorious day, a gold. Four hits out of four and ten points in the bag. No wonder they were happy.

Tanya and Fizz stood as the others had, but Fizz was surprised at Tanya's orders.

"Stand there, just pass me the arrows and say nothing. Nothing at all, comprende?"

Fizz frowned, but said, "whatever you say, Tan. I think you're crazy, but si, yo comprendo."

"Good girl." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then, "blindfold."

Her world was now a strange place, where everything was in shades of grey, but with such sharp contrast between objects that she could see the leaves on the trees at the far end of the field. In reality, she was not seeing, but _seeing_ , with some part of her mind that had been awakened by her training sessions with Greta the alien goat creature.

Draw, aim and loose. No problem, and her first arrow was in the blue.

Draw, aim and loose. A gold, but there was little cheering as Sonia had friends from Central there, and they were among the crowd making not so subtle threats to all and sundry.

Fizz said nothing, as Solidad idly toyed with her knife and stared at her menacingly.

Draw aim and loose. It was a hit of a different nature, and Conti shouted with shock and pain as the arrow tore into her calf muscle and she stumbled away from the target, which she had been about to move.

"If she tries it again," Tanya said calmly, "I'll kill her. Then you."

Sonia stared at her, goggle eyed, while Tanya loosed her last arrow. Gold again.

Tanya ripped the blindfold off and faced Sonia. "Want to do Asher's farm again? Here and now? Well, do you?" She screamed the last words but said no more as Marco's huge arm swept around her waist from behind and she found herself lifted off her feet and carried from the field.

Evensong

"Not another word, young lady. Not one single word."

Tanya sat there, sullen and brooding, as Sylvia berated her.

"Cousin Gloria's taken a shine to you, heaven knows why though, and has promised to persuade the Lakesiders to do nothing. You." And here she actually dug her forefinger into the miserable girl's upper arm, "you do nothing as well."

She waited for a reaction but there was none. "Understand?"

Tanya nodded.

Sylvia softened her tone now. "The title of prima is not given to stupid girls. When you went to Ibis from Homestead, you impressed us all with your leadership. Be that same leader now. Please?"

Tanya looked away and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Sorry, Sylvie," she whispered.

It was too much for Sylvia, who had been Tanya's own prima until a year ago, and she sat down beside her and put her arm round Tan's shoulder. Poor kid, she thought, running with the wardogs from the age of twelve, three years before the 'safe' age, and she had caught the virus from the dogs too early. Thrust into two battles at the tender age of fourteen when she had killed at least twelve of the enemy. No wonder her head was messed up. Tanya's tears turned into huge gulping sobs and she clung to Sylvia as if her life depended on it.

Margaret moved away from the door where she had been listening and sat down with the others on the porch steps.

"What do we do now?" asked Simon.

Margaret shrugged her shoulders, "in respect to what exactly?"

"Tonight. Can we still afford to go?"

"Can we afford not to?" said Anton. "If we go, there may be trouble, and if we don't?"

"We stack up trouble for later," Simon finished for him. "They'll think we're pussy cats and can push us around."

"We go then," decided Margaret, knowing the others would back her decision. "But we go careful."

We should go armed, thought Anton, and the others probably thought it as well, but it remained unspoken.

"Do we take Tanya?" asked Jimmy.

Margaret nodded. "Gloria said that she still expects everybody to stick to the timetable, as if nothing has happened, and that means that Ibis is entertaining tonight."

"So Tanya sings then."

There was a brief silence as they realised the crying had stopped, then Jimmy continued, "What's she singing?"

"Jingle bells," said Simon.

"Are you sure?" Margaret asked, "that's a seriously strange choice of song."

"Positive, she pestered me for hours the other day and nothing I suggested was right, until I said jingle bells. Then she got all excited and said I was a genius."

"Girls got cotton wool for brains if she said that boy," Anton laughed.

"Genius enough to know not to mention bananas when Margaret's around," and Simon ducked just in time to avoid Margaret's swinging fist.

The 'ouch' was in stereo as Anton rubbed his sore ear and Margaret flapped her bruised hand.

"Ha!" retorted Simon. "See where violence gets you. Now behave yourselves children, or there's no ice cream for you."

When dusk fell, the Black Swan began to fill again, and at first there was an air of enforced jollity, but the absence of the Lakesiders relieved the tension and everyone began to relax again. The wine and ale were being served in a steady flow, and the kitchen was churning out snacks at a rate that made Bridget very happy. Spring fairs were good for business. Very good.

Jade made her excuses and went out of the back door to answer a call of nature, and had to wait her turn as the closet was occupied. Occupied by someone singing, which made Jade frown and listen carefully to the words.

' _Hummm har dringo bell, hum har dringo bell'_. It was only a slightly rude song, but one not sung in the West, especially not here in Altmore.

The door opened and Tanya stepped out. Jade's mind whirled.

"What the hells do you think you're doing?" she said through gritted teeth.

Tanya was surprised by her tone of voice. "Practising," she said.

Jade grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the inn. "Not here you're not."

"What are you doing, you're hurting me."

"I'll do bloody worse if I hear you sing that again, you stupid tart."

"Why? What have I done?"

Jade stopped and put her face close to Tanya's, still gripping her by the arm. "Don't you realise, if they hear you singing that round here, we're all dead. You've caused enough trouble for one day, so get yourself out of here and clear off home."

She pushed Tanya towards the inn door and told her again, "go on, sod off."

Tanya went, in tears again, round the edge of the room and out of the front door.

Eventually, her absence was noticed and Marco asked where she was.

"She's gone back to your lodgings," Jade told him.

Marco looked at her in disbelief. "What's she done that for? Not got stage fright has she? I thought she was up for it."

"Do you know what she was going to sing? Well I'll tell you. The stupid sod was only going to do," and here she only mouthed the words, "dringo bloody bell."

The men and Margaret had blank or baffled expressions, but Sylvia groaned and explained to Margaret, very quietly so as not to be overheard.

"They call us country bumpkins, and more, so to get our own back, we sing, that song. It's a bit like you and bananas. Only worse."

"Oh, don't you start," complained Margaret.

"Only explaining," said Sylvia in apology. "It's an old song, but the words have been changed because of what happened to an Altmore woman at Pauline's place in Central a few years back."

"What happened?"

Sylvia grinned as she thought about it. "Very nasty. I'll tell you some other time."

The mention of Pauline reminded Margaret of the betting slip and she turned to Marco. "Did she pay you the money then?"

He smiled and answered, "Oh yes, eventually."

Ricky butted in, "but he gave her five pounds back."

"Five pounds, why?"

"They locked themselves in, but now they need a new door."

They all looked to Marco for an explanation, but Ricky went on, "strong, isn't he?"

A huge explosion outside shook the building, and the miners, veterans of the alien war dived for cover. When the screaming stopped, and they uncovered their heads, it was to find all the local women still sitting or standing up looking towards the windows. Flickering lights of different colours lit up the window panes.

"Marco," barked Margaret, commander again. "Seal the back door. Simon, Ricky. Take point."

Marco leapt over the tables to the back door, helping himself to a shovel from the fireplace to use as a weapon, while Simon and Ricky crawled to the front, much to the amusement of the villagers, and cautiously peered through a window.

A minute later, Ricky returned, walking.

"Best take a look yourself."

They went outside onto the square, where a growing crowd was enjoying the fireworks display.

"Fireworks," said Anton disgustedly. "Grovelling on the floor because of some bloody fireworks."

"Fireworks," repeated Jimmy, "and I nearly messed myself for... oh fuck."

Margaret caught on immediately. "What is it?"

"Look," he said and she followed the direction of his eyes.

Across the square, where a terrified Ana lit the fuse of another rocket, stood Walter and Consuela, flanked by Maria and Sophie. They were dressed as usual in black and white, and even though it was dark now, still wore those ridiculous sunglasses.

All four of them stood perfectly still and were looking, it seemed, directly at Margaret.

"Tell me," she said to Jimmy.

"Like I said before, I remember his favourite hymn is number 746, because that's the number of Watts in a horsepower, not 76 and I've never heard of a 'book of Holy Ordinance'."

"Ordnance, not ordinance," whispered Simon, who knew now as well. "You know, military hardware." Jimmy continued as another rocket lit up the square. "He was using sign language to me in the church. It's an engineering thing, for noisy jobs, but he had to spell out some words. He definitely signed 'danger', and I thought he said he'd got to go, but now, I think he actually spelled out 'got a gun'. And fireworks equals black powder. Damn." He cursed his own stupidity as he solved Walter's last riddle. "As he was leaving, he told me to look for some eggs."

Blank looks all round, and he explained. "Engineering slang, for explosive charges."

"What does 76 mean then?" asked Marco.

Simon looked at him with a forlorn expression. "76 in the book of holy ordnance can only mean one thing," he said. "They've only gone and found a hail mary."

Anton then spoke, as if quoting from a book. "Jane's Fighting Forces, issue 1298. Browning Breda Corporation 76 millimetre cannon, nicknamed Hail Mary, now standard issue worldwide to all land based armed forces, with various ammunitions to suit all purposes, including heat seeking and laser guided self propelled rounds."

Simon turned to Margaret, "It's unlikely, but if they've got viable ammunition, and they want another war, then we're dead men already."

Margaret chewed on her lower lip in thought, rapidly going through various scenarios. "What's the worst they can do. Without the proper shells and using gunpowder?"

"Scary version?" he said, "range, to be accurate, probably not much more than 500 metres, but they'll not use shells." He paused as another great boom echoed round the buildings. "The hail mary will take about two kilos of steel balls, or even stones, in a canister, spreading out on firing for maximum damage to soft targets."

"God help us," whispered Margaret, "That's a three inch bore shotgun."

Simon nodded, and as they went back inside the Swan, the four still figures across the square watched in silent satisfaction.

Chapter 9

### It's a dog thing

Jean Collier looked up from the pot she was stirring over the campfire. "You'll go blind you know."

Caroline Sharp rubbed her tired eyes and decided to call it a day. The light was fading fast and trying to keep the stitches small and neat in the deerskin boots was giving her a headache.

"I guess you're right," she replied, and started to put her precious sewing kit away.

When she had agreed to help Jean on the trade route between Ibis and Dockside, she had thought that it would be a welcome change to working with her mother, making and mending shoes in Ibis.

The reality had been a bit of a shock, to say the least.

Looking after the wagon and five uncooperative draft cattle was proving difficult enough, then she was struggling with the physical work of loading and unloading, and on top of that, she still found herself making boots and moccasins in her spare time.

They had to make a profit, and every little helped. She sewed and Jean carved wood, and anything they could sell of their own making was for cash which went straight into their own pockets.

At least Jean was doing the cooking tonight. Whatever was in the pot looked right, almost, but the smell was a little strange, and Caroline wished again for some of her mother's meals.

She looked around the darkening campsite. "Where are the dogs?" she asked.

"Out looking for their supper,"

"Don't you ever feed them?"

"Only when I have to, like when we're in town."

Jean stirred the pot again then lifted the wooden spoon and tasted the mixture. "It'll do I think," she said frowning, and started spooning the stew into two wooden bowls. "Mostly they fend for themselves. Makes them like you."

Caroline took the offered bowl, "like me?" she asked, not understanding.

Jean smiled. "Sharp. Keeps them alert and that makes us safer out here."

As if on cue, a dog started howling in the distance, and was joined at intervals by another. Jean cocked her head to one side and listened intently for a moment.

"Jessie," she said eventually, "and Rascal."

"Don't know how you can tell them apart," said Caroline, but Jean held her hand up then stood and turned to face North, the way the dogs had gone.

"They've got an answer. It's going to be chaos tomorrow, I think that's Chaka."

"Who's Chaka?"

"One of mum's pack, and we'll meet them sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Why chaos though?"

"Chaka's top dog and Jessie's top bitch. They'll either be all lovey dovey, or trying to tear each other to bits. It's a dog thing." She sat down again. "How's your supper?"

"This bread," Caroline stated firmly, holding up her portion, "is absolutely fantastic."

"Really?"

"Yep. Best flatbread I've ever tasted, don't know how you get it so good."

"It's the plate I bake it on. Very special."

Caroline peered at the metal slab at the side of the fire. "Looks ordinary to me."

"Looks aren't everything you know. That was my mum's, and probably my gran's before that as well."

Caroline tried to look suitably impressed with the family heirloom.

"And the stew?" added Jean.

"That's the best as well."

"Really?" asked Jean smiling broadly.

"Definitely the best stew I've had today," Caroline said grinning.

Jean saw the funny side and laughed with her. "Not my strong point is it? Somebody else will be cooking tomorrow. Mum with a bit of luck."

They met the next afternoon as predicted, at one of their regular campsites just to the North of Ibis. Fran was proud of 'her' campsites, and this one was the best of them all. In the grounds of a derelict church, there was fresh water from a small spring and the old stone walls on three sides kept the worst of the weather off in the Winter. Now it was nearly Summer, and the overhanging trees gave shade from the burning sun.

Also as predicted, the dogs were frantic, but only for a short while and there was no real violence between them. Perhaps the sight of Fran reaching for her 'big stick' brought back unhappy memories of when she had last driven them apart with a very firm hand. Top dog or not, Chaka recognised Fran as the boss.

The afternoon turned into evening, and after sunset, the two parties settled down and swapped stories of their latest journeys, while Caren and Denny sat slightly apart and softly sang what they could remember of the songs they had heard in the Black Swan at Altmore.

The quiet night was the last peace that some of them would know for a long time.

Morning shift

Breakfast over, Fran gave her daughter Jean the bad news.

"We're swapping wagons. You and Caroline are taking the cruiser to Homestead for me, while I go on to the coast with these two girls in yours."

Jean was mortified. "Mum!" she exclaimed. "I've never handled four pairs before. Not on my own."

"Oh thanks," muttered Caroline. "Invisible now am I?"

Jean shot her a withering glance. "Can you drive cattle? No, I thought not." Then she addressed her mother again. "Mother, you cannot be serious. You are aren't you?"

Fran didn't bother to answer, just giving Jean one of her looks. What she said was law, in her family anyway.

"It'll all end in tears," Jean prophesied. "What's the big deal, anyway?"

"Big cargo, big profit," said Fran.

Jean frowned. "Just how big a cargo is it?"

"Oh, not much. A couple of tons of steel rods..."

"What?" Jean exploded.

"And a few odds and ends of copper and brass. All for Billie at Homestead."

Jean visibly wilted, and gave in to the inevitable. "I'm not unloading," she said defiantly. "She can take it all off herself. I'm not paid enough for that."

Then to Caroline, "come on, lets get our bloody boxes swapped, We've not made all those ladles and moccasins for nothing."

Caren and Denny helped to carry the boxes of personal things between wagons and Denny spotted a familiar object.

"What on earth have you got this for?" and she held up the horned skull that Robin had said was that of the alien Horner.

Jean shifted uneasily as she answered. "Found it near Homestead, and I'm taking it to Algar."

"Why Algar?" mused Denny, "and do you know what it is?"

Jean thought for a moment before replying. "It's a big goat, I think, and they've gone a bit scientific at Algar, taking a strange interest in animal skulls and things. They pay me anything up to a pound for interesting ones, like that."

Denny smiled as she put the skull back into the box. "Well, they'll have a fine time examining that one. Not many more like it on earth I shouldn't wonder," knowing full well that if Robin had been right, there were only two others. One still in the minefield and another walking around somewhere, probably crazy but still alive.

"Why are you going to the coast with Fran?" asked Caroline.

"The families at Gap all seem to be named after birds, and Caren's looking for anyone called Hummingbird."

Jean looked up quickly on hearing the name. "You'll not find them there now."

"You know them?" asked Denny, and called Caren over.

"Hey Caz, Jean here knows the Hummingbirds."

"So do you," said Jean. "All three of them."

"We've never heard of that name."

"Well you wouldn't have, would you," she continued. "It was about three generations ago when the man Hummingbird died at Gap. He was the last man left there, and his wife upped and moved to Homestead. Didn't like the sea or something."

They looked at her in amazement. They had been two years in Homestead, and had never heard this story.

"So she started to work in the taverna and eventually took it over. Didn't change the taverna's name, but changed hers instead."

Caren and Denny looked at each other in disbelief. "The Vine," they said in unison.

Jean nodded. "That's right. Frankie, Kirsty and Tanya."

"And Tanya's in Ibis right now," continued Caren.

Jean frowned. "Well, no she's not. She went to Altmore with Marco and some others and they haven't come back yet."

Denny whirled round and caught Jean by the wrist. "Not back? Are you sure."

Jean shook her arm free. "Yes, we called in at Toogood farm yesterday."

"Where the hells is she?" asked Caren.

"What do you mean?" answered Jean.

"She left Altmore a few days ago."

"Got in a state about people getting high and mighty with her," added Denny, "so she left in a bit of a huff."

"Without telling anyone." mused Caren.

"No one at all," said Denny slowly.

"Not even Marco."

They stood in silence a moment, considering the possibilities. Not for a moment did they even come close to guessing the truth, but they were thinking along the right lines now.

"Do you know who actually saw her leave?" asked Denny.

"Margaret said that the woman of the house she was staying in saw her go," said Caren. "Not close up, but said she recognised her curly hair and that weird dress she had on."

She stood for a moment, hands on hips and deep in thought, then as she stooped down to pick up the last box to put aboard the cruiser, there was a brief flash of red in the morning sun as her new necklace dangled free from her blouse.

Jean gasped as she recognised it. "Where did you get that from," she demanded, grabbing the ring on the string around Caren's neck.

"Steady girl," said Caren, pulling away from her.

"Where did you get it?" said Jean through gritted teeth, bunching her free hand into a fist. "It's hers, Tanya's."

It was no contest, as Jean was only an amateur when compared to Denny and Caren. Most of the Spangerland women were amateurs when it came to fighting skills, whereas the two girls from the future had done their tour of duty on border patrol, and Jean was soon in tears on the grass. Fran sat between them and heard the whole story again.

"So, Tanya Vine left a week ago, and somebody saw her coming South, but she hasn't arrived at Toogood farm." She scratched her head idly for a moment. "She's somewhere else then," she pronounced, and the others groaned.

"We've already got that far ourselves," hissed Denny.

Fran held up her hand for silence. "There's more to this than meets the eye, I think. Our Jean gave that ring to Tanya a couple of years ago, and yet you've bought it off a skinny street girl. How's that I wonder?" She looked directly at Caren. "Could she have robbed her, do you think? Tanya's a handy girl in a fight and couldn't have lost out to a skinny thing, could she? No!" She answered her own question and carried on. "We'll put in what I know as well, stir it up and see what comes to the top."

She sat humming gently to herself, came to a conclusion, and then told them what she thought likely to have happened.

"That woman didn't see Tanya leaving," she stopped the interruption from Caren, "what she saw was curly hair and a fancy dress. Could have been anybody."

"What..."

"How..."

Fran ignored the questions. "I happen to know that Dolores got a bit of a telling off from Gloria. Seems one of her wigs went missing and Dolly got the blame."

"A wig," said Caren quickly.

"A wig and Tanya's dress," added Denny, "Which means that someone took it off her.

"And her ring," said Jean.

"I think that Tanya Vine could be in a spot of bother. We've got to find the skinny girl and ask her a few questions, like 'where did you get that ring?'."

"So we're going to Altmore," said Jean.

Fran gave a little smile, "some of us are," she said, "and some of us are taking eight oxen, a cruiser and a pile of steel to Homestead."

"Oh, mum..."

Telling no one why they wanted the information, Fran, Denny and Caren got lucky in Altmore, quickly finding out who the skinny girl was, then got unlucky just as fast when they were told that Daisy Fleet, street brat and thief had been taken to Central by the militia to face some pretty rough justice.

"Seems we're going to Central then," said Caren. "Is it far?"

"Far enough if you're walking," answered Fran. "Pity we haven't got camels."

"Oh what I wouldn't give to have a camel again," said Denny wistfully, not noticing Fran's agonised expression.

Nobody had seen a camel for several generations, but Fran gradually relaxed as she decided the girls hadn't noticed her slip of the tongue.

"Take us about a day, day and a half. Longer if we were in cargo, but travelling light, yeh, day and a half."

"Thought you knew everything Fran," said Denny.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Jean knew about the Hummingbirds from Gap, but you didn't."

"Ah, well," said Fran wisely, "Everybody knows something, and everything is known by somebody. It's just a matter of knowing who knows what, and knowing what's known by who, cos it wouldn't do for somebody to know everything, well... their head would swell up and explode I reckon. Don't you?"

Caren and Denny swapped mischievous glances and tried desperately not to laugh out loud. Fran's observations on life were generally amusing, but that one topped the lot. So far anyway.

Tintown woes

Olivia Deacon looked out of her office window and sighed in despair at the sight of the rubble strewn wasteland that led down to the mine entrance, and she gazed longingly at the far mountains. Four years ago, this had been a happy farming community. The land wasn't the best for growing anything except oranges and vegetables, and keeping sheep of course, but life had been good. The underground warehouse complex had been discovered when Sally Foot had fallen through the bottom of a new well she had been digging, and the happy times were over. Not at first, obviously. The new found wealth that was there for the taking had changed their lives, but there were problems in actually managing to take that wealth out of the ground and sometimes Olivia longed for the peace and quiet of the old times.

Someone knocking at the door broke the spell of her reverie and she returned to the dreary life of here and now.

"Enter."

Miriam, the overseer entered. "Sorry to bother you," she said in a manner that suggested that nothing bothered her much at all. "Shilling is insisting on seeing you."

Olivia raised her eyebrows.

"Shilling. Temple trash," Miriam explained. "Won't say what it's about."

The mine boss sighed resignedly again. One of the ex priestesses had died in a rock fall a few days ago and her body had not been recovered. There were rumours of the mine being haunted by her spirit wanting a bloody revenge.

"Bring her in."

Cherry Shilling shuffled into the room and stood with head down, not willing to make eye contact with anyone. Olivia looked at her in disgust. The rags she wore would not last much longer, and the smell of her unwashed body was appalling.

"Speak, girl," commanded Miriam, and prodded her in the back with her cane.

"Honey," whispered Cherry in a cracked voice.

There was silence for a second then Cherry cried out in fear as Miriam raised her cane, "not for me, not for me," she yelled, and fell to the floor as the cane struck her across the shoulders.

"Enough!" shouted Olivia as Miriam lifted the heavy stick again.

They locked eyes across Cherry's prostrate body and Miriam backed down, lowering the cane and retreating a step.

"Leave us," said Olivia forcefully. "Now."

Reluctantly, Miriam left the office and the outer door slammed shut behind her. Olivia opened the office door to check that she had actually left the building and then sat at her desk again, noticeably leaving the door open.

"Tell me why you're here, and what you really want."

Cherry coughed and wiped her nose on her ragged sleeve, but did not wipe her eyes. No one actually working inside the mine cried any more. They were beyond tears and resigned to their fate.

"Honey," she repeated, "A few herbs and clean bandages."

Olivia drummed her fingers on her desk top. "That's the what," she said, "but tell me the why." As an afterthought, she then asked, "and why honey."

Cherry raised her eyes at last. "We lost Sandy last week, but a replacement's coming, and she mustn't die, and honey's very medicinal."

Olivia considered the strange statement. The templars were supposed to have some sort of ability to see the future, but to her knowledge, had never demonstrated it before.

"Everybody dies eventually, so why should I care then, whether another digging rat goes under?"

"She's innocent, and they'll be looking for her."

"Who?"

Cherry shook her head, "don't know. Can't see that much detail."

"Tell me what you know, and if it turns out not to be true... well then, perhaps Miriam will have some more fun with you."

Cherry shuddered at the thought of Miriam having 'fun', but recited what she and the other two had seen between them.

"She's hurt bad and not worth the asking price, but there are three ways it can go," she started. "Don't let us have what she needs and she will certainly die. Give us the things to help her and she lives."

Olivia waited but Cherry stayed silent. "That's only two ways."

Cherry shrugged, "anyone who goes in there," and she looked towards the mine, "runs the risk of dying, so help her to live and she can still die."

"So I ask again, why should I care about this one?"

"Times are changing and maybe, just maybe, we could all be what we once were. All of us, but only if she lives. She's special, and has very powerful friends."

"Such as, who?"

Cherry swallowed nervously. "The angel of death is looking for her. Pray she doesn't come here and find her friend dead."

Chapter 10

### Arena

Carla Keys was not in a good mood. "And I'm telling you, for the last time, that if you really want to see her, then you go round to the main gate and join the other sad bastards, with your ten cents clutched in your sweaty paws. Now, piss off!"

The hatch slammed shut and Caren stepped back from the door in dismay.

"All this way, and for nothing," she exclaimed bitterly.

Denny sighed and kicked a stone across the dusty street. "Don't know what we can do now sugar," she said quietly.

"Well..." said Fran reluctantly. "No. Better not."

Caren looked at her expectantly. "Yes?"

"Well, I was thinking, you could join her of course."

"What?" yelped Denny. "We have to rob someone and let ourselves get caught?"

Fran laughed. "No girl, nothing like that, but the truth is, it's not an easy option."

"Go on," Caren said slowly, "what's the catch."

The trader pursed her lips before continuing. "She was found guilty of robbing three people, so she'll be in the arena against those three, or more likely, someone from their households. She'll probably be badly injured before the judge says enough is enough, and maybe no use to you, so you've got to see her before the fight."

"We'd already worked that out," said Denny, "but we've just tried it. Haven't we?"

"Yes, but there's another way. Custom is, that before the start, she gets three chances to ask if anyone will help her out."

Caren almost jumped for joy as she saw the opportunity. "So we could join in and make it three on three," she exclaimed excitedly.

Her joy withered as Fran slowly shook her head. "If only it could be like that girl, but they have to keep the crowds amused. The odds have been set, and it will be two against six, or three against nine."

Caren was aghast, but to her concern, Denny suddenly got a thoughtful expression.

"The good thing is," Fran continued, "you would get to speak to her, and she might tell you what you wanted to know before it all gets nasty. Then you would only have to survive.... oh.... ten minutes or so? Maybe."

Caren shook her head in disappointment. "Thanks Fran, but I'm not ready to die yet."

Denny butted in, "what weapons will they allow?"

Caren whirled round, catching her adopted sister by the arm. "Denny, we can't do it. We're out of practice."

"What weapons?" Denny asked again, gently shrugging her off.

"It's only a plain case of thievery, so no metal allowed, neither armour nor blades."

"So it would be clubs and stuff?" Asked Caren in disbelief.

"Yeh, usually. Or staffs like yours, and antlers are a good choice. Nice and pointy."

Denny had already decided. "Where do we get signed up?"

"Take a seat near the front, and when she asks for help, you stand up and name yourself." Fran chuckled. "There'll be chaos for a while, cos they'll have to find six more to go against you. No one ever stands for a street brat."

"They do today," answered Denny grimly. "Come on Cas, we can do this. You need her."

Caren gave a big sigh. "Persuade me."

Denny's eyes twinkled now. "Nine against three, but your little thief takes one of them. That makes it eight to two. Fair odds for Hummingbird's ring champions.

Fran shook her head, not understanding. "Champions of what exactly?"

"Kendo and wushu," answered Denny.

"Can do and whooshy? What's that then?"

Caren smiled at last, "dancing with broomsticks," she answered cheerfully.

Fran's jaw dropped and she gaped at them in amazement. "Dancing with...? You're crazy! No, you're serious aren't you? You really think you can beat them."

They nodded and Denny grinned at her. "Didn't see us at Asher's farm did you? Thought not," she continued, "we didn't even get warmed up for that one."

It was Fran's turn to be thoughtful. "Right," she said eventually, "give me your knives and get yourselves in there. I've got to go and see an old friend of mine."

The great water clock on the temple roof opposite the arena showed that the time was approaching two, and the noise of the crowd was growing louder with every passing minute.

Glen was hungry again. "Want one?" she asked, and held out the bowl towards Beryl.

Beryl studied the contents for a moment. "What did she say they were?"

"Hamster?"

"Not just now thanks," answered Beryl, "too ratty for my taste."

Glen shrugged her shoulders and picked out a morsel for herself. "Your loss, my gain," she said, and bit delicately into the sliver of meat.

Beryl looked away. She'd eaten some strange things before, when times were hard and there had been nothing else, but felt that they had a certain standing in the community now, and should be seen to be above such base foodstuffs.

"Nice," muttered Glen, licking the grease from her lips. "Look, the fun's starting," and she pointed towards the other side of the arena.

A ragged cheer rose as the prisoner was escorted across the arena's sand by Carla the gatekeeper, until they stood in front of the judge, Millie Storm.

Millie rose, and the crowd was briefly quietened. "You have been found guilty of three cases of robbery, and face the champions of your victims. Defeat them and walk free. Lose, and the extent of your defeat is your only punishment, and then you are also free to go about your lawful business. May the Lady above be merciful upon you." She sat and imperiously waved the pair away.

It was a simple system. No jails were required, the victims meted out their own brand of punishment and Pauline's Pleasure Parlour made a profit.

The judge got a share of the days profit as well, but nobody was stupid enough to talk about that part of the proceedings.

"Come on girl," whispered Carla, in a not unfriendly manner. "Stand up straight and look good for your friends."

"Ain't got none," was the quiet reply, and Daisy's bottom lip started to quiver.

"Put on a good show then, and someone will surely look after you when it's all over. Won't they?"

The girl shook her head slightly and looked sadly downwards.

Carla gave up trying to be cheerful. "Chin up girl, can't let the folks down. Now say your piece. Go on, say it loud and clear."

She squeezed her eyes shut and said what she had been taught in the cellar. "My name is Daisy Fleet. Will anyone stand with me?"

There was no reply, only the excited buzz of the crowd. A few were laughing at the girls plight, and some angry voices were heard from the doorway at the top of the terrace as a minor disturbance broke out.

Daisy looked briefly round the circle of mocking faces and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "My name is Daisy Fleet. Will anyone please stand with me."

More laughter and jeering from the eager audience, and even more shouting from the terrace doorway.

"Out of the way fathead, make way for real women."

Caren had decided that being polite wasn't going to work and angrily pushed her way through the door, followed closely by Denny.

"My name is Daisy Fleet..." Daisy rubbed the tears away with the back of her hand as Caren made it to the bottom tier and vaulted over the arena wall. "And I am Caren Hummingbird."

The effect on the crowd was incredible, and as Caren strode to Daisy's side, people began standing up for a better view of the idiot in the black cloak.

"The house of Hummingbird stands with Daisy Fleet."

Daisy burst into tears of relief and Caren put her arm round the sobbing girl's shoulders and pulled her close. "Hush girl, it gets worse now before it gets better."

"I am Denzil Sazgood, and the house of Sazgood stands with Daisy Fleet."

The crowd went wild. Nothing like this had been seen before, not at odds of three to one, and they realised that this was turning into a real spectacle.

"Sazgood?"

Glen turned to Beryl. "Mmmm?" she said round a mouthful of rodent.

"Sazgood," Beryl repeated thoughtfully. "I know that name. How much money have you got on you?"

Glen shrugged her shoulders, "oh, about three pounds," she said slowly.

"No Glen. Not how much do you want me to know about. How much have you really got?"

Glen sighed. She was going to be broke again. "Six pounds seventy two cents."

Beryl held her hand out expectantly. "Come on Glen, pass it over. We've got to get to the booth before they catch on."

Glen reluctantly handed over her bag of coins, and Beryl made her way to the betting booth trying to look nonchalant.

"What's all this then?" asked Carla in amazement.

Caren looked at her scornfully. "We stand with Daisy. Thought it was obvious, even the crowd understands."

"Humph. It's you two is it? Knew you were troublemakers."

"Go away gatekeeper," snarled Denny. "I'm sure you've got things to do?"

Carla Keys was perplexed. "You can't use knives or anything similar. Rules is rules."

Denny held out her walking staff. "Made of wood, see? Now it's your turn to piss off."

Carla went away fuming and muttering to herself, to ask for instructions from big Brenda, who was the current 'Pauline'.

"Look at me Daisy," said Caren quietly, and Daisy lifted her sorrowful eyes. "We're here on one condition, understand?"

"What's that then?"

"When this is over, you work for me for a short while until I've got a little problem sorted out."

"What sort of work? Stealing and stuff?"

Caren shook her head vigorously. "No, no more stealing for you. We're in the information business. Now no more questions. Do you agree?"

Daisy was mystified but nodded.

"Do you agree to work for me?" Caren insisted.

"Yes, I'll work for you."

"Good. Now stand over there and relax, if you can. We've got to get ready."

She turned away and put her hand on Denny's arm. "Denny?"

"Yes love?"

"You're not going to change are you Den? They're a superstitious lot, and might not be happy if you did."

Denny answered in a low voice, "no need. We'll play it straight, give the punters a show they'll never forget."

"So, no rabid wolves then." Denny shook her head slightly. "Or outsize lions."

"Promise Cas. Just you and me, two ordinary everyday girls. We're good enough, you know we are."

Caren smiled and hugged her friend and sister.

"Now," continued Denny, "close your eyes, shut out the world and become one with me." They clung together, Denny whispering low into Caren's ear.

Beryl sauntered up to the booth. "Hello, Rosa. How's things? Business booming?"

Rosa peered warily through the small window and uneasily fingered the knife at her belt. "Not today it ain't," she replied carefully, half expecting to be robbed of the days takings. "Very slack. No one bets when it's three on one."

"Well let's liven things up a bit shall we?" Beryl replied, rubbing her chin as if in thought.

Rosa gripped her knife even tighter.

"What odds is Pauline's giving on the girl winning?"

"Who? Daisy the thief?" replied Rosa, laughing in relief. She wasn't going to be robbed after all.

Beryl nodded, "yes, that's her."

"Fifty to one," Rosa replied, looking up at the chalk board beside her. "Why? Want to lose some money do you?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm getting bored, and I thought a little bit of a gamble would spark up the day a mite for me and Glen."

"Very true, very true," gushed Rosa enthusiastically. "A little flutter makes the old heart flutter as well. Perks the day up no end."

"Right," Beryl went on, "make me out a ticket at fifty to one," and she paused while Rosa started to laboriously write out the betting slip.

"How much do you want to lay out then?" asked the happy clerk.

Beryl produced hers and Glen's money bags and emptied them onto the counter. After sorting out the coins into neat piles, she announced, "Well I can't afford to lose it all."

"I should think not," said Rosa glumly, surveying more money than most folks earned in six months.

"So I'll keep the twenty one cents, and bet the fifteen pounds with you."

Rosa was dismayed. "But, but, fifteen pounds? I'll have to see the boss first."

"Do your job and write 'fifteen pounds' on that ticket now," Beryl insisted. "Or," she added in a menacing voice, "you might not get home tonight. Glen's not in a very good mood."

Carla was approaching big Brenda's office just as Fran Collier and Tina Flake, Central's prima, were leaving.

"Right then," said Brenda cheerfully, "see you later Fran, and don't forget to get that cart cleaned out for me, will you?"

Fran smiled, "oh I'll be back deary, don't you fret, we've got an independently witnessed contract to see through."

As they left, Carla arrived. "You'd better come down boss, something odd's happening."

Brenda learnt the details as they proceeded to the arena. "Cunning old cow," she spat out, and started to get very red in the face.

"What's up boss?"

"That, that, woman! She's just bet her cart and two cattle that Daisy will win."

She stopped suddenly as they emerged onto the terrace. The crowd was silent, but someone was singing. No, it was more like chanting.

Denny raised her staff and firmly thumped it twice on the ground. A pause, then Caren raised hers as well. Slowly, and together, thud, thud, thud, thud.

"Together." "Together." "Guard high." "Advance low." "Defend the East." "Attack the West." "Press North." "Retreat South." "We are one." "We are one."

The wooden staffs flashed out in unison to each side, in time with the chant, and the crowd was mesmerised.

"What the hells are they doing?" murmured Brenda quietly. Then she dragged her eyes away from the odd spectacle and looked to where the girl's opponents were standing. There were seven of them now, the four extras lured by the standing promise of a pound each. They were regular visitors to the arena and apparently knew the rules better than Carla.

"Two more," blurted Brenda. "Get two more, and make sure they're nasty buggars." She spotted Beryl in the crowd. "Start with Beryl and her crony, and let them know that Daisy's got to die."

Carla sped off, and Brenda hurried towards the betting booth. "Lady, please let Daisy die," she whispered to herself. "I can't afford fifty wagons and a hundred cows."

Denny and Caren had thrown off their cloaks by now, and were standing erect with left hand covering their eyes, right hand thrust forward, and staff pointing to the skies. They were chanting softly now. The final prayer.

"I honour my mother and father, as I honour the Lady of the night.

I honour my kin and family, who give me strength and might.

I honour my sister beside me, as I know that she honours me,

If one of us falls, the other is there, whatever will be will be."

"So be it."

Four slow steps and they had turned to face the other way. Thud, thud, thud, thud.

"Together." "Together." "Guard high." "Advance low." "Defend the East." "Attack the West." "Press North." "Retreat South." "We are one." "We are one."

Beryl shook her head again. "No, sorry Carla, I'd really like to earn an easy pound, but can't help you I'm afraid. Too hot to fight today I think. Right Glen?"

"Right Beryl," agreed Glen. "Maybe next week?"

Carla left them, and went towards the next likely looking bunch.

"Are we going to be rich Bez, or will we just look stupid?"

"So long as they play it straight, then it's rich, lover."

Glen stood up slowly. "Think I'll stretch my legs a bit," she said, and headed down to the arena wall.

"Hi Bubbles."

The woman with the unfortunate name, standing on the sand in front of Glen, looked over her shoulder, then turned round and gripped Glen's forearm in the old style. "Hello Glen. Coming to join us?"

Glen shook her head. "You must be joking," she whispered, not letting go of her old companion's arm. "Don't you know about them two?"

Bubbles, shabbily dressed and older than the others standing with her, looked towards Caren and Denny, who were still 'warming up'. "Never seen them before," she said slowly. "Do you know them then?"

Glen nodded. "Fought with them at Asher's farm. Good job they were on our side, that's all I can say."

Bubbles swallowed nervously. "I can see they're an odd pair... but what's special about them? They're only girls."

Glen shook her head slowly. "Look innocent, I'll admit that. But that's the scary thing you see." She leant forward and whispered even more quietly, "The blonde one, fastest thing with a sword we ever saw. And the other," she looked round as if to make sure no one was listening, "she's the devil's personal apprentice."

Bubbles whimpered and a look of horror came over her face. "The devil? And she was at the farm? Then she's..."

Glen nodded vigorously. "You've got it girl," she said louder. "The Dark Angel, and you've got to get out of there. Rumour has it that they're vampires," she hissed in a stage whisper.

One or two heads half turned in their direction as Bubbles' reactions to the conversation grabbed their attention.

"But I've taken the pound," the terror struck woman said through clenched teeth.

"Stick out your chin, and I'll knock you down," Glen offered cheerfully, but just then Carla Keys returned with three of the militia in tow.

"Right," she said loudly. "I want one of you lot to stand down and let these three good folk onto the team."

She had barely spoken the words when Bubbles jumped for joy. "That's me," she shouted. "Here's your pound back. Hasta la vista." She hurriedly scrambled over the wall to join Glen and they climbed the terrace to sit with Beryl.

Word had spread onto the streets about the strange goings on in the arena, which was slowly filling up, and they had to jostle and push people aside to regain their seats.

Beryl raised her eyebrows questioningly at Glen.

"Old friend, from way back. Thought she could join us for a while."

"What about Basher?" asked Beryl. "Isn't she in your good books any more?"

Glen shrugged her shoulders, "you heard, I know you did. She's got religion. No telling if we'll see her again." Then she turned to Bubbles. "Why so glum? You're out of it now."

Bubbles sighed. "I had a pound, a real pound in my hand. Now I've got nothing again."

"Hah! Don't worry about that mate. We're rich, aren't we Beryl."

Beryl nodded. "Yep. Got twenty one cents between us."

Their new companion's face fell. "Times have been bad Glen. I'm starving," said Bubbles sadly.

"Here girl," said Glen, holding out her precious dish. "Fancy some hamster?"

Rough justice

A bizarre figure emerged from the dark tunnel at the North end of the arena and the crowd became animated again. "Justice," was the one word being uttered, and it was repeated round the terrace, louder and louder, until the newcomer reached the centre and raised a hand for silence.

Under the heavy cloak of green leaves and twigs, and weighed down by the massive headgear made of leather and topped off with cow horns, was Naomi Milestone, Centrals second lawyer and lawgiver, and she wasn't comfortable. She thought the official regalia of office was ridiculous, but put up with it, because it was traditional and the crowd expected it, but she was most unhappy about having to rewrite her carefully prepared speech because of Caren and Denny's unexpected arrival.

There was an expectant silence as she slowly turned to survey the waiting crowd.

"Justice arrives in this place," she intoned, and a sigh came from the crowd.

"A girl," and she pointed at Daisy, "accused of theft, and her accusers, here to see justice done." She turned round in a half crouch to face the nine on the sand. "And here to receive and give out such punishment as is deserved."

A ragged cheer began in one corner of the stadium and swelled as more joined in.

"But look!" Naomi shouted. "Who would have thought that a lowly child of the street would find a champion. Two champions no less." She addressed Caren and Denny in a quieter voice. "But think you, what sort of justice is brought here today?"

Then to the crowd again. "I am not the easy justice of the knife or sword. No!"

The crowd roared a mighty, "NO!" in response.

"Mine is the hard justice of the living world. No rocks, no iron or bronze. I am the bearer of wood, of bone and of flesh. No quick end with the thrust of dagger, only the relentless pain of bruised flesh and broken bone. Imagine the horror of it all, bruise upon bruise, the agonising crack of breaking bones, and the endless screams of the defeated. Mark you well, the justice found in this place. Now, it begins."

The crowd closed the opening speech for her. "NOW, IT BEGINS."

Naomi walked slowly off again to take her place with Millie Storm.

"Nice speech," said Millie quietly.

"Thankyou dear, bit rough round the edges, but had to make some of it up."

At opposite ends of the oval arena, the two groups were moving into position, waiting for the start signal. As Denny and Caren changed places, there was an undignified and obvious scramble as some of the more knowledgeable opponents tried desperately not to face Denny.

Denny smiled. "Seems that they don't like me," she hissed. "Daisy, change sides, stand by Caren."

After Daisy had moved as instructed, Denny smiled again but more grimly. "The big one in green, just swapped sides, see her?" The other two whispered their 'yes'. "She's wearing chain. Probably only a byrnie though, and she's after Daisy."

"Got her," said Caren quietly.

Daisy just whimpered.

"Daisy," said Caren quietly.

"Yes?" answered the frightened girl quietly.

"Three steps to the rear and one to the right. There's a good girl. Guard my back."

Denny raised her staff and let it fall twice to the ground again. Caren joined her. Thud, thud, thud, thud. "Sisters." "Sisters." "Together." "Together." "One of us falls." "The other is there." "We are one." "We are one." "So be it."

Millie stood and raised the hammer high. The crowd watched in silence. After a dramatic pause, the hammer fell and the great bell rang out it's one clear note. The crowd roared out it's approval and the nine motley justice bringers advanced, some more eagerly than others. Closing the gap, twenty paces, nineteen, eighteen. Still the sisters stood, heads bowed, waiting. Twelve paces and Denny looked up at last.

"Brown hair, weak on left leg, attack her from the right. Big nose has bamboo knife in her jerkin. Two in brown trousers wearing spiked gloves. Don't let them close." She talked for her own benefit, but knew that Caren heard her. "The rest can wait."

Caren stood sideways on to the advancing mob, legs apart and slightly flexed.

"Let them come to me, let them come," she whispered. "Lady above, guide my feet and hands today. Let us be strong, let us be one. Let them come."

Daisy whimpered again, but gripped the ash spear tighter to her chest.

Rosita Melon swallowed nervously as she walked across the sand with her knobstick resting on her right shoulder. She was here because she needed the money, and had chosen the knobstick because of it's simple style, which made it a weapon that even a novice like her could use. A metre long, sharpened at one end with a hard-wood ball as big as your fist glued and pinned at the other, it was made for brawls, not battles.

"Mari?" she said in a low voice to the woman next to her, "I don't think..."

She never finished the sentence as Patrice Silver, the 'big one in green' took command. "No time for fancy plans. You five," and she waved to her right, "take the weird one. We'll sort out blondie and her mate."

There were various sounds of agreement from the others and Patrice urged them on.

"Come on then," she bellowed, "let them know you're coming."

They screamed out their 'war cries' and broke into a run.

The crowd roared it's approval as the gap closed, while Denny and Caren stood poised and silent, calculating, considering.

Daisy whimpered.

Patrice was not alone in thinking it would be easy, but she and the crowd were amazed when Caren leapt high and to the right, flashing her staff to the left and right in quick succession. Patrice stumbled, overbalanced by the swing of her club not making the expected contact, and she hardly felt the blow from the staff above her left ear. Then the blood started to flow down her cheek, the stinging pain following moments later. One of the girls with spiked gloves, and carrying a sharpened wooden stake, fell soundlessly to the ground in an untidy heap after Caren's heavy staff caught her full on the forehead.

Dancing with broomsticks. The two diminutive girls leapt their way through the routines they had learnt and practiced in the kendo ring at Hummingbird Tower since they had been ten years old, and none of the nine could land a telling blow on them.

Parry, thrust and dance. Parry, swing and leap. Never still for a moment, Mariposa went down in front of Denny with a broken ankle, Patrice was hit again on the other ear, as Caren aimed for exposed flesh and not her body, which was protected by the illegal byrnie, and the limping woman was already sitting down, gritting her teeth against the pain in her repeatedly abused knee.

The calm of battle came over the sisters as they fed off each others confidence and they could do no wrong.

Denny started singing and Caren laughed, while Daisy still whimpered in fright.

They could feel the panic rising amongst their foes as they sidestepped every attack and dealt out more punishment of their own. Another one down and gasping for breath after being kicked in the solar plexus by Caren's flying feet. A spear was thrown but Denny leaned out of it's path, and thrusting her staff upwards, deflected it into the terraces. The fickle crowd was changing it's allegiance, and the fire hardened spear was thrown back violently at the women opposite Denny. It grazed someone's thigh, and she took the opportunity to limp to the tunnel, out of harm's way.

Five down and four to go. They were getting cautious now, and although she was trying to look willing, Rosita was praying for the bell to sound 'enough'. She stumbled backwards, away from Denny's spinning staff, and was promptly pushed forward again by the woman with the big nose, who was hoping to distract Denny long enough to get inside the defensive circle of whirling wood.

Denny threw her staff like a javelin across the arena, and stood with arms open wide to welcome 'big nose' in. She attacked without hesitation, but once again, Denny was fastest. Sidestep left, dance back and feint to the right, and slap the knife hand away. Denny's merciless flying fists jabbed once, twice three times into the woman's face. She fell.

The thrown staff had caught one of Caren's attackers high on the right arm, and the sound of the breaking bone sounded clearly across the arena. She too staggered away.

Now Patrice was alone against Caren, and her face was a mask of blood as Caren repeatedly tapped her staff against either side of her head, damaging each ear more and more. Roaring with rage, Patrice stumbled after Caren, swinging the heavy club, but like Denny, the nimble girl was never still for long enough to present her enemy with an easy target.

Denny slowly walked towards Rosita, who had unsteadily regained her feet. Deciding that enough was enough, Millie Storm raised the hammer again and struck the bell.

Although Denny was smiling, Rosita thought it was the scariest thing she had ever seen and her face was a mask of terror as her nemesis approached.

Denny gave a low grumbling growl and let her face slip slightly into the shape of the weird wolf she had once been, and as Rosita fainted, a puddle of piss formed on the sand between her legs.

"Bastard. Bastard. Bastard." Patrice was persistent, if a little lacking in common sense. The battle was over and lost, but she pressed on, till Denny joined with Caren to subdue her, and they ripped off her jerkin to expose the chain mail shirt beneath.

The knowledgeable audience didn't like cheats, especially cheats on the losing side, and Patrice was duly thrown out of the arena by several willing volunteers.

"Right ladies," announced Beryl. "It's been a good days work so far, but now comes the hard part. Trying to collect what's rightfully ours and then holding on to it."

She stood and the others stood with her. "Glen, you take your friend, and stick close to them three. They're good, but might need a spot of looking after."

Glen caught Bubbles by the arm, "come on kid, got your knife handy? Crowds are tricky things, especially for country folk in the big city."

Bubbles made her dire confession. "Ain't got a knife, Glen. Like I said, times have been hard, and I had to sell it."

Glen was amazed at her friends downturn in the good luck department. "No knife?" Bubbles shook her head. "Not even an eating tool?" A shake of the head again. "Bloody hells girl, you can't live without a knife and spoon. It's a good job I saw you today. Come on, I'll lend you a blade till we can get you set up again."

They left the arena to wait outside for Denny, Caren and Daisy, while Beryl went to the booth, and upon finding it closed, proceeded to Brenda's office.

Chapter 11

### On the move

Glen and Bubbles had lost sight of the three girls after moving only fifty metres or so from the arena, but suddenly found them again.

Bubbles was unceremoniously tripped up by a hard-wood staff being thrust between her ankles from an alleyway just after the bakers shop.

"Don't like being followed, turd face," snarled Denny, straddling Bubbles' back and holding her knife against the unfortunate woman's throat.

Glen looked cross eyed down the length of the wooden staff that Caren was weaving slowly to and fro in front of her face, and held her arms out in submission. "Hello Caren," she squeaked.

Caren looked at her more carefully and lowered the weapon. "Let her up Den, it's Glen."

Denny frowned and peered at her victim. "You're not Glen. Are you?"

"No, she is," piped up poor Bubbles.

"Beryl sent us to look after you," said Glen in relief, now that the sudden danger had passed.

Denny started chuckling softly. "Bloody hells. Never had a bodyguard before."

"We're royalty now Den," laughed Caren, and they helped Bubbles to her feet. "Arise faithful servant, and escort the good duchess Denzil to her quarters."

"Come countess Caren," laughed Denny, "let us begone from this mean place, and return to our palace by the city gate." So saying, the laughing sisters led the way to the Brown Cow Inn where they were to wait for Fran's arrival.

Across the street, in the hairdressers shop, Patrice watched and simmered with hatred while her mistreated ears were being stitched and bandaged.

"Going somewhere in a hurry?" asked Beryl gently, and pushed Brenda back inside through her office door. "Sit down Bren, and let's talk about money, shall we?"

"Now look here Beryl, you can't...."

That was far as she got, because the door was pushed open again by Fran Collier, accompanied once more by Tina Flake. Brenda sagged, and buried her head in her hands, elbows on her desk.

"What might you be doing here Beryl?" asked Tina, with hand resting easily on her sword hilt.

Beryl had a reputation for underhand activities, some of which were just a little too far beyond the divide between law and disorder, so Tina was apprehensive.

"Just collecting what's my due," she answered, holding up one hand.

"Ah. You as well," stated Fran. "Owes me a few cattle and things, she does."

"My turn first, I think," demanded Beryl. "You have to return my stake first. Says so on this ticket." She smiled grimly and showed Tina her betting slip. "Fifteen pounds please. Then we'll talk about the other seven hundred and fifty."

Brenda's head was reeling with the enormity of the figures. A cart and two prime cattle were worth about twenty pounds, so she also owed Fran a thousand pounds. "I can't pay you," she blurted out, "not all at once. I'll need time. Lots of it."

Fran got in before Beryl could speak. "I want two carts and ten cattle before midsummer, and we'll negotiate the rest."

Brenda was slightly relieved but didn't understand. "What?"

"You're no good to Central if you run off, or go homeless on the streets," interrupted Tina, "and you do a reasonable job here, so the council is speaking on your behalf."

"What's the catch?" demanded Brenda.

"And what about me?" asked Beryl angrily. "I don't need any negotiations. I need money."

"You'll get your money," Tina told her. "Some of it anyway. Now, look at this," and she took a rolled up paper from beneath her jacket and spread it out on the desk."

"So we signed her damned papers and left them to it, her and that witch of a lawyer, the Storm woman. Old hag had us over a barrel. 'Take it or leave it' she said, with the might of Central's militia backing her up, so I took it."

Glen had never seen Beryl so upset before. "Still made a profit though," she commented, and Beryl was off again.

"Forty six pounds?" she roared. "Should have been seven hundred and fifty buggars."

"Yeh, well, forty six pounds and good sized piece of land near Altmore."

Beryl grimaced. "Land. Bloody land. It's a trap that's what it is. Got land and you've got responsibilities. Got land and you get visits from the tax office."

"We won't be paying taxes," said Glen hopefully. "We know all about tax collectors. We were tax collectors ourselves not that long ago. Nobody'll do what we used to get up to. Will they?"

Beryl calmed down a little. "Nobody'll do that sort of thing again, shouldn't wonder. Martha Torrent got what she deserved, when she ran foul of Homestead and Ma Nesbitt."

They walked on in silence for a while, contemplating the grisly end that had come to mad Martha and her 'tax collectors', the only sounds the creaking and rumbling of Fran's wagon and the crunching of marching boots on the road.

"I had forty six chickens once."

Beryl and Glen stared at Bubbles.

"Or maybe even more. Wasn't too good at counting in them days."

"Chickens?" Beryl said enquiringly.

"Mm." Agreed Bubbles. "Mum and me kept chickens."

There was no more forthcoming, so Beryl looked questioningly at Glen, who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows a little.

Fran leaned to one side and called down to them. "They've stopped."

"About time as well," complained Glen. "My feet are killing me."

"Soft, soft," said Beryl quietly to her lover. "been in the town too long dearest. You're out of condition and we might have to put you on a diet."

Glen laughed. "Just you try it girl. Nobody comes between me and my dinner."

Tina had suggested that they leave Central immediately, for their own good of course, and they had covered about ten kilometres before Caren called a halt to make camp, about an hour or so before sunset. Fran and Daisy unhitched the yoke cattle, and after taking them down to the river, got them settled down for the night on the upwind side of the fire that Glen had started with her tinderbox.

Dinner on the trail was often a haphazard affair, eating what was available and making do, but today they were lucky and Caren was preparing three chickens to spit-roast, stuffed with wild herbs, onions and carrots. There were also several varieties of fruit of course, picked just off the trailside from the old abandoned farmsteads. Fruit was always plentiful in Spangerland.

Bubbles had made herself a fishing pole and was sitting on the river bank, more in hope than in expectation of helping to feed her newfound comrades.

Beryl passed the bottle over to Glen and asked, "so why is she called Bubbles then?"

Glen smiled. "Happened when she was at that awkward age. You know, about thirteen, started her monthlies, and thought she knew better than her mum." She took a drink and passed the bottle to the left, to Denny. "They had a difference of opinion about whether it was better to use chicken eggs or duck eggs in a king cake, and things got out of hand. Ended up with Bubbles shouting and swearing at her ma, and her old mum just picks her up under one arm, big woman she was, and carried her out into the yard and proceeded to scrub her mouth out with soap and water."

Her audience were suitably impressed with the story so far, and urged her on, the bottle passing next to Caren.

"Not much more to tell really, spitting out soap and bubbles for ages she was, with all us younger kids laughing fit to bust." Her voice went a little quieter. "Swore she hated her ma and she'd get even with her, but things settled down between them again, and when her ma drowned in the storm of seventy nine, she wailed like a baby for days. Sad. Very sad."

There was a brief silence as they watched Bubbles cast her line into the water again. Then Fran said, "all that fuss for nothing." The others readily agreed, then she carried on, "everybody knows that goose eggs are best."

Caren passed the bottle over. "You're a hard woman Fran Collier. A hard woman."

"Was the storm of seventy nine a bad one then?" asked Denny.

Glen nodded. "It was one of them hurry up storms, came up all of a sudden and then gone as quickly. We lost two boats that day, and three crew."

"We?" queried Caren.

"Gap. We were Gap girls, born and bred. And before she was Bubbles, she was called Buzz, and that's another funny story she'd like to forget..."

Beryl jumped to her feet. "Visitors," she announced, stepping away from the wagon.

There was no one in sight, but Beryl was from Homestead and had been one of the first to encounter the wardogs, and in doing so, she had acquired from them some measure of foresight, normally the attribute of a guru. Glen stood ten paces to the right of Beryl, casually holding her spear in one hand.

Two women came into view, round the corner near the olive grove and slowed a little when they saw the camp, but didn't stop until they reached the wagon.

Beryl spoke first. "Rosa?"

Rosa nodded, "that's right Beryl, and this is my daughter, Rosita."

Denny laughed briefly, then shut up quickly when she saw the expression on little Rosita's face. "Sorry kid," she said, "It was in the ring, and she said wood, bone _and_ flesh. Thought it was funny at the time. Sorry."

"We're coming with you," stated Rosa firmly. "Brenda's threatened to kill me if I show my face in Central again, so wherever you go, we go."

"What?" exclaimed Beryl. "What gives you the idea that I want your company?"

"It's not a matter of wanting," replied Rosa indignantly. "It's your fault that we're on the road, so we're your responsibility. You've got to protect us now."

"Now wait a minute, you can't expect me..."

"DOWN!"

"DOWN!"

The warning came from Bubbles on the river bank, echoed immediately by Beryl.

A single arrow came flying across the river and passed through the mad scramble of bodies diving in every direction. There was a 'thud' and then silence for a moment.

"She's run off," shouted Bubbles.

"Buggar!" exclaimed Denny as she looked at her arm pinned to the wagon's side. "ruined my second best shirt again!"

They freed Denny from the arrow and wagon, grateful that she had only been nicked by the barbed head.

"Did you see her?" asked Caren.

"Not clearly," Bubbles replied. It's dark under the trees and she was wearing dark clothes, but she had a lot of white hair."

The others racked their brains trying to remember anyone like that.

"Or a white hat?" suggested Glen.

"No!" said Caren suddenly. "I bet it was bandages."

Denny looked thoughtful. "The big one in green. Patrice?"

Caren nodded slowly, "well, we'll catch up with her one dark night. She owes us now. A new shirt at least."

"She owes me as well," said Bubbles sadly. "She made me lose my last fish hook."

They sat round the fire, praising Caren's culinary skills and discussing who was responsible for what and for whom.

"And all I'm saying," said Fran with the authority and wisdom of age, (she was the oldest there) "is that before you make any hasty decisions that you may regret later, you look carefully at this piece of land you've been lumbered with and see what it's like. Should be good farming country down there."

"Don't want to be a farmer thankyou," retorted Beryl.

"I could be a farmer."

They all looked at Rosa with interest.

"And my Rosita's good with animals, aren't you love?"

Rosita agreed, but Denny whispered to Caren, "not so keen about wolfs though."

She laughed softly, then winced and flexed her injured arm, peering at the bandage, but there was no blood seeping through.

"Hurts?" asked Caren.

"A bit," admitted Denny. "Think I'll turn in for the night."

"We could be partners as well," suggested Fran.

Beryl considered the statement before she replied. "How. And why?"

"Times change Beryl, and Central's given me exclusive rights to a certain mountain, South of them and directly to the West of your plot. Could be very convenient for me to have a permanent base near you."

"I'll think on it," muttered Beryl.

"There would be a profit in it for you."

"I'll think on it," repeated Beryl irritably.

Eventually, they all settled down, trusting the night watch to the cattle and Fran's pack of long legged hounds.

Later, when the camp was quiet and they were wrapped in their blankets, away from the others, Glen whispered to Beryl, "what's wrong pet?"

There was no immediate reply, so she tried again. "Beryl? You've not been right since leaving Central, and don't tell me it's the money, cos I know it's not. I know you better than that."

Still no reply.

"Come on," she wheedled. "Spit it out, tell aunty Glen."

Beryl turned to face her friend. "Hold me Glen. Hold me tight."

There was silence for a while as Glen stroked her hair and kissed her gently.

At last Beryl spoke again. "I saw something in the arena today."

"I thought it was something like that," whispered Glen. "you went very strange for a while back there. Like you were seeing something you shouldn't."

Beryl strived to see her companion's expression in the dying firelight. "Seeing?" she queried, frowning.

"We're not stupid," Glen replied. "Me and Basher know you've got the sight. We just don't let you know that we know."

"But..."

"No buts madam. What did you see?"

Beryl surrendered in the face of reality. "We're going back there one day soon. Somebody needs us, but I don't want to go."

Glen shook her head slightly. "What's the big deal then? Not many who can beat us in the ring, are there? Do you know who it is that needs our help?"

Beryl shook her head. "No, she hasn't got a name."

"No name? That can't be right. Are you sure."

"Sure as I can be. No name, only a question, and it frightens me."

Glen was surprised by her friends statement. Nothing frightened brave Beryl. Nothing. Ever. "It's probably nothing Bez. Nothing that we can't cope with anyway."

"Hold me Glen, don't let me go." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I've seen the future. I've seen the gates of hell."

Chapter 12

### Going home

The sun crept over the trees, driving away the morning dew, and Fran reluctantly peeped out of the blankets. Seeing Bubbles up and about already, she smiled and pulled the cover over her head for a few extra minutes of precious sleep.

Moments later, she was roused by Caren. "Fran, wake up," the girl hissed urgently.

"Mmmm? What's wrong girl?"

"Get up Fran, we're going. Now."

Fran was wide awake, and looked towards the animals. "Cows and dogs aren't bothered by anything. Why should we be?"

"Look what Bubbles has seen." And Caren held up the arrow that had 'nicked' Denny's arm the previous evening.

"Damn!" Fran spat out. "What is it. Any idea?"

The arrow head had a hint of blue/black staining on it. "Bubbles reckons it's poison, probably snake or toad. This shit's been in her all night. Too late to cut it out now, so we've got to get her to a doctor pronto."

Fran scrambled out of bed. "There's a physic woman in Altmore. We can be there just after noon if we get a move on. You keep her quiet, I'll sort out the cows."

They made a hasty departure. No one complained about the lack of breakfast, and Rosita ran on ahead to warn the woman who passed for a doctor, of their impending arrival. Caren sat in the back of the wagon, talking softly to Denny.

"I can't stop it Cas," Denny whispered. "It's burning me up babe."

"Hush darling, we'll soon be there, try to rest."

"All that training. All those people I treated at your house and I can't help myself."

Denny gritted her teeth as a spasm shook her body. Caren mopped her forehead with a wet cloth again. "Relax sweetheart. You're going to be all right."

"Hold me Cas. Sing to me?"

' _I'll hold you in my arms,_

Keep you safe and warm,

We will sail the silver sea,

So put your trust in me.

We'll walk along...'

Denny arched her back as the pain racked her again.

Caren was close to tears. "Oh Den, hold on. Please don't leave me."

"Will you take me home Caren. To my home?"

"Of course I will darling."

"Sisters," Denny whispered.

"NO!"

"Say it damn you. Sisters."

"Oh Denny," Caren cried, but continued, "Sisters"

"Together."

"Together."

"One of us falls."

"The other is there."

There was a brief silence as Caren waited for the response.

"Denny? Denny?" There was no reply and Caren hugged her soul mate's lifeless body and rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably.

Fran had halted the wagon, but they left her alone until the crying stopped.

Caren laid her adopted sister down again and stroked her hair for a while, then sat up and wiped her eyes dry and finished the litany in a harsh voice.

"We are one. So be it."

She jumped down from the wagon bed. "I'm going back. Come with me, or lend me your sword Beryl."

"Now hold hard there," Fran said firmly. "First things first. There's a burying to take care of. Then you can think about the evil bitch that done this."

Caren rubbed one hand against her forehead, then answered, "you're right. But we can't bury her here. I promised to take her home."

"Home?" asked Fran warily. "Where's that then. Not Homestead?"

Caren shook her head. "No. not that far."

Fran was relieved, until Caren continued, "it's just past the Nest."

"Bloody hells girl, that's about four days."

Caren was adamant that Denny was going to her ancestral home, even though in this age, it hadn't even been built yet. "I promised, so she's going."

"All right then, but we'd better wrap her up good and tight and pray for some cold weather." Fran didn't say any more, leaving the subject of decaying flesh untouched.

They only stopped outside Altmore briefly to pick up supplies and collect Rosita, and it was there that they decided to split up. Bubbles, Glen and Daisy stayed in Altmore on Caren's behalf, to pursue the trail of the missing Tanya Vine, and the others only stayed together as far as the turning towards Beryl's newly acquired land.

Fran and Caren continued on their way Eastward, carrying Denny's body to her last resting place, and day by day, the cattle and dogs got more skittish because of the stink of the decomposing body.

At last they arrived at Algar springs, and Caren was directed to the new buildings at the side of the original compound, by a woman she only vaguely recognised.

After a brief rest and some welcome refreshments, they watched while four of the Algar girls, all wearing sandals and grey robes, took spades to the little cemetery and dug a grave in the shade of an olive tree.

Later, when the wagon bed had been scrubbed with soap and hot sulphurous water from the bath house, Fran asked Caren, "what now pet?"

Caren shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going home as well. Get geared up and then back to Central I guess."

"Where's home?"

"Ibis. That's where whoever founds the house of Hummingbird will start building."

"Take my advice," said Fran slowly. "Take your time. Think about what you are doing and what you want to happen. Don't spoil things by rushing off immediately. That Patrice woman is going nowhere. You can always find her later."

Caren nodded slightly, and agreed. Then Fran continued, "you never know. Perhaps Glen and them will have news of Tanya Vine for you soon,"

Later that same day, they were on the Ibis road again and heading back towards Guardians Nest. They were watched by a group of girls and women from the walls of Algar, and as they slowly made their way along the dusty road, the young woman that Caren had almost recognised spoke.

"Julie, take sister Belle and dig her up. Get her washed down and in the chapel before the moon rises."

"Do we need her?" asked Julie.

"Yes. I think she has a great future with us."

Two of the women turned to leave but Julie suddenly remembered, "what about the beast already in there?"

Ginny Brand, mother of four, head of the house and aged 57 but now looking the same age as her daughters pursed her lips as she thought for a moment, still watching the ox cart. "Is it the same as the others?" she asked.

Julie nodded. "Think so, but it's got white hair and seems to be a bit bigger."

"How long before it stands, do you think?"

"A few days probably."

"We'll risk it," Ginny said. "Put her in with it, see what happens."

Julie thought about it for a moment. "OK mum. Come on Basher."

"Sister Belle now. Please don't forget again."

"Sorry Bash... sister Belle."

Tower of strength

"Are you sure this is it?" asked Beryl, turning the map this way and that. "I thought it would be further to the South."

Rosa stared intently each way along the riverbank before replying. "Five kay straight, starting opposite the quarry. Well, there's the quarry, so everything that way in a five kilometre square belongs to you." she waved expansively towards the South West.

Beryl was secretly pleased with what she saw. Flat grass lands for a kilometre or so inland from the river, backed by fruit trees of some kind and also pine woods, with the land rising gently towards the distant mountains. She was OK with numbers, but her reading skills were not so good. "Read it again," she asked.

Rosa cleared her throat and peered at the parchment. "Council of Central is pleased to confer on one Beryl Strong, a tract of land, the Eastern border of which shall be the stretch of river known as Five Kay Straight. For the purposes of this document, said Five Kay Straight shall begin at the quarry entrance, and end five kilometres to the South thereof. Said tract of land shall be in the form of a perfect square on the West bank of the river, said square therefore being five kilometres on each side."

"Twenty five square kays," said Beryl quietly. "We'll not starve anyway."

"Said Beryl Strong and her household shall have sole use and enjoyment of said land and riverbank, but may not deny anyone the free use of the public road through said land. Seems straightforward enough."

Beryl wasn't too sure. "Written by a lawyer. Bound to be a catch somewhere."

"Come on ," said Rosita excitedly. "Let's go exploring. See what there is."

They wandered South and West, Rosa trying to estimate the distance they travelled. After the first kilometre of grass, the land was laid out in recognisable fields of fruit trees and vines, divided by dry stone walls that were mostly falling down. Then they came to the woodland proper, and they revised their first guess of nothing but pine trees, when they came across groves of oak, ash and beech.

Then they found the remains of the ancient road.

"What is it?" said Rosita, kicking at the smooth, hard surface.

"And what is it for?" wondered her mother.

Beryl had seen one of the old roads before, but not as complete as this one, and said nothing.

They followed the black road through the woods until they rounded a bend and emerged from the trees. They gazed in awe at the white tower beyond the iron fence.

"It's beautiful," whispered Rosita.

"It's big," said Rosa letting her eyes sweep upwards.

"It's home," finished Beryl, smiling at last.

Rag trade

"Are you sure this is it?" asked Glen, looking up at the narrow window in the alley.

"Definite." Daisy was positive, because the window frame still bore the scars where her knife had eased the catch back. "This is where I got the ring."

"Glen was uneasy. "If this goes wrong, then we'll scarper and meet up at the old mill on the North side. Got it?"

Daisy and Bubbles agreed.

"Come on then. We'll go round the front. Keep it simple and stick to the plan. Daisy, you stay outside till we send for you."

The sign above the door read, _'Bonnie Boots - evrything for the modern miss'_

As they pushed the door open, it caught a tiny bell with it's top edge and the 'ting - ting' announced their arrival.

The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with shelves, stacked with all manner of new and used clothing. Handwritten signs proclaimed the availability of _troos, shirts, sanduls_ , etc.

A door, partially hidden behind a mountain of nondescript cloth opened, and a portly woman in her forty's emerged, wiping her hands on a grubby apron and still chewing her lunch. She swallowed hastily as she looked her customers up and down, passing mental judgement on them, and wondering whether to send for help or not.

"Good day to you, travellers." She didn't know them, so it was a fair bet they were just passing through. "And what may be your pleasure today?"

Glen walked imperiously along one line of shelves, idly touching an item here and there. She put on her 'best' voice, "ah, my good woman, we have pressing business at the court in Central and my companion, the Lady Leona has fallen foul of ruffians on the road to the South." She smiled encouragingly and Bonnie found herself stepping back a pace. "We find ourselves needing a change of clothing. Nothing too ostentatious you understand, but no... tat, if you know what I mean."

Bonnie Boots nodded wisely and kept her hands on the counter, above the place where her cudgel was kept. "I'm sure you'll find whatever you desire, but first, there's the delicate matter of payment. Nothing personal you understand, but we live in strange times and I'm afraid that I have to see the colour of your money first." She licked her lips nervously, "company rules you see."

Glen laughed, a high pitched giggly sort of laugh, and Bubbles cringed in the face of such over acting. "Of course, of course," and she extracted her pouch and shook it out onto the counter.

Bonnie's eyes lit up at the sight of more than twenty pounds in small change laying there within her reach, and her manner changed instantly. "May I suggest that we start at the bottom and work our way up?"

Glen smiled, "and may I suggest we secure the door? We don't want strangers seeing the Lady Leona in a state of undress, do we."

"Turn around dear," encouraged Glen, and Bubbles obliged, showing off her new outfit. Red shirt, black heavy duty trousers and matching jacket, green leather ankle boots and a floppy hat with an ostrich feather.

"Marvellous, just marvellous." gushed Glen. "But tell me mistress Boots, does there seem to be something missing?"

Bonnie scratched her head, "well..."

"I have it!" exclaimed Glen loudly. "You're still undressed dear, without a belt and blade." She turned to Bonnie again. "Do you have any side arms suitable for a person of Lady Leona's standing?"

Bonnie grinned broadly. Business was good today, and throwing open a second hidden door behind the shelves, she beckoned them in. Glen stopped suddenly in the doorway at the sight of more weapons than she had ever seen in one place before. She moved inside and walked slowly among the racks and hooks bearing ornate swords, knives, spears and bows. Several helmets and pieces of armour lay in an untidy heap in one corner, and Bonnie Boots rummaged among a tangled pile of odds and ends.

"Now this is what you want," she declared and held out a miniature 'over and under' crossbow. "Nobody uses these twinbows any more, so you could give any unwelcome visitors a nasty surprise."

Glen shook her head. "I think not. We are of a more traditional persuasion, are we not?" She looked round. "I said, are we not? Lady Leona!"

Bubbles came out of her reverie. "Oh yeh. Are we not," she mumbled.

Bonnie frowned at her, but carried on. "Well in that case, how about this?"

Bubbles examined the jewel encrusted dagger housed in a silver sheath, and reluctantly handed it back. "Something more practical would be better."

"This one," announced Glen, holding a short sword at the level of her eyes and twisting the blade to and fro to catch the light. "Laminated steel, German I think," then she passed it to Bubbles, complete with it's belt and accompanying knife.

"Yes, best cherman, "agreed Bonnie, not knowing what German actually was. "You've a good eye for metal," she announced. "Nothing as good as that to be had this side of the sierras."

"Nice balance," said Bubbles in admiration, swinging the sword slowly.

"How much for this, and the clothes?" asked Glen.

"Well dear, let's go through and check out the numbers shall we?"

Sitting on a stool behind the counter, she carefully wrote everything down on a piece of yellow card, then double checked the figures again. "It comes to a total of ten pounds and eighty five cents."

She looked at the horrified expression on Bubbles' face, but took courage from Glen's silence. "Plus sales tax of course."

"Of course," said Glen brightly. "And as your prices are so reasonable, I think a little ornamentation would be in order."

Bonnie looked at her in surprise, but one glance at the money still spread across the counter gave her the courage to go on. "Ornamentation?"

"Yes," confirmed Glen, "jewellery. Something rather shiny and not too small."

"Well I've got some pieces in the back."

"Anything like this?" Glen demanded, showing her Tanya's ring.

Bonnie leapt to her feet, knocking the stool over. "No," she said quickly. "Nothing at all in the ring line."

"But you did have didn't you? I see that you recognise it."

"No, no, never had nothing like that. I don't deal in rings at all."

Glen stared intently at Bonnie. "Bubbles, let her in now."

Daisy came through the door and Bonnie gave a little squeak of fear.

"Ah," said Glen, "I see you recognise our young friend too. Would you like to tell us where you got this ring?"

Bonnie shook her head and mumbled "Noooo" through gritted teeth.

"Now don't be silly about this. Take a good look at us. That's it, a really good look. Ladies of the road, we are. Need nothing, got nothing, so we've got nothing to lose. But you? You however, have got property. Know what property is? No? I'll tell you then. It's a trap! Got property, you got responsibilities. Got property, you get visits from the tax office. No, obviously we're not tax collectors, but a shop like this, well it's a fire risk, and we could be in the kindling and tinderbox business today."

"You can't do this," Bonnie pleaded. "You don't know what you're asking me to do. She'll kill me."

"Daisy," growled Glen.

"Yes boss?"

Pass me some of those belts, seems like there's going to be an accident. I can just hear the news now. Shopkeeper ties herself up and dies in burning shop. Neighbours completely baffled. Foul play not ruled out."

"I know all about chickens," said Bubbles brightly. "Never seen them play though."

Glen winced, but carried on. "Hear that Bootsie," she snarled as she tied Bonnie's hands together. "Start talking or slasher here will get to work on you with the chickens."

Bonnie looked in horror from one to the other. "Slasher? Chickens?"

Glen shook her head slowly. "tut tut, don't try to be coy with us. The things she can persuade chickens to do. Have to strip you first of course."

"Strip?"

"Screaming shopkeeper found naked and tied up. Deranged chicken arrested and being questioned by council."

"You're mad. Completely mad," yelled Bonnie.

"Daisy, go find me a chicken. A big one. Slasher, get her boots off."

Daisy edged towards the door while Bubbles grinned wildly and grabbed one of the terrified shopkeeper's feet. "No," she screamed. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you. Keep her off me."

She told them.

Glen counted her money again.

"Here, shopkeeper," and she put a small stack of coins back on the counter. "We're not thieves, so that's a fair price for Lady Leona's new outfit, and one or two other things that we need. Plus a little extra for your trouble." She hesitated in the doorway. "Oh yes, there is one thing more." Bonnie shrank back against the counter. "Get yourself a sign-writer who can spell properly." She indicated the cards on the shelves. "Very amusing, I'm sure. But it lowers the tone of the whole establishment. Now good day to you." Glen turned and swept majestically out into the street. "Run," she commanded and they trotted off towards the North gate laughing as they went.

Chapter 13

### Visitors

Dotty Sharp hummed tunelessly to herself as she worked the hoe between the rows of strawberries in the kitchen garden opposite Toogood farm's tall gate. Push, twist, lift and another unwelcome intruder was removed from the soil. Up and down the rows then on to the tomatoes and lettuces. Some would have found it tedious, even boring, but Dotty was happier now than she had ever been, and she was important as well.

Unfortunately, since word had arrived of Tanya's disappearance, being a gardener made her important in an expendable sort of way, and no one was allowed outside the farm walls without being armed so she was never far away from her short spear.

She had seen the ox cart as soon as it had appeared over the rise on the road from Ibis, but had largely ignored it when she had recognised the driver as her old hunting partner, Margo Lemon. She and Margo had been at the battle of Asher's farm together, and had survived unscathed by beating a hasty retreat at the first sign of trouble, which had come in the shape of Marco with his amazons and wardogs marching towards them. Marco had been unrecognisable as a man in his home made barbarian outfit with the horned helmet, and the opposing warriors had decided he was some sort of demon.

Shortly after the war's end, Dotty's future had again looked bleak when she had shot Marco with a single arrow outside Ibis. Then, in the ensuing confusion, after he had fallen off the bridge into the river and was thought to be dead, Margaret and Sylvia had beaten her mercilessly.

Now, in a strange twist of fate, Dotty was part of Tanya Vine's family and occasionally found herself safe in Marco's huge arms, and bed.

She gave a yelp of surprise as a shadow fell across the patch of ground under her hoe, then relaxed as she looked up. "Oh, hello Sali," she said clasping her right hand to her heart. "Gave me a real fright there, shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

Sali wore one of her wide eyed innocent expressions and shook her head slightly. "Sneak up? Who, me?" She smiled at Dotty's discomfort. "Can't sneak about when you're like this," and she patted her stomach. By her best reckoning both she, and Flossie Craken, were about seven months pregnant, and her previous waif like figure was rapidly disappearing beneath her spreading waist and hips.

"Come to collect some herbs and things." Sali said, raising her little basket for emphasis. "Care to help me love? It's getting harder to get up and down now."

"Yes, anything for you," replied Dotty and thrust the hoe into the ground, before they slowly walked together towards the rough ground beyond the garden.

"What do we want then? Something nice?" asked Dotty. "Or is it another of your sister's famous concoctions?"

"Don't be cheeky," replied Sali with mock severity. "You might be grateful for one of the Vorden's special Homestead remedies one day."

"Oh I hope not," she said with an expression of disgust. "What is it this time?"

Sali passed a trowel to Dotty. "We're after some valerian, feverfew and a fat leaf from a vera."

Dotty knew the valerian and aloe vera, but queried, "feverfew?"

"You know, pale green, with flowers like a daisy."

"Oh yes, I know it now. Is it for you? Are you suffering?"

Sali shook her head, "not me love, we've got a visitor with a sore head."

This surprised Dotty as she had seen no one arrive that morning, but said nothing as she gathered Sali's ingredients and they got back into the farmyard at the same time as Margo's wagon.

"Hi Margo," called Dotty, "what brings you here?"

Margo kicked the brake lever and jumped down to embrace her friend. "Got something of yours in the back." Her eyes did a quick scan of Dotty's face. "Can hardly see the scars now, you're nearly as beautiful as me. How's your hand?"

Dotty held up her left hand, the one that Margaret had stamped on a year ago, and flexed the fingers as they moved to the back of the wagon. "Mostly alright now. Aches a bit after a days digging, but I'll soon be better than you with a bow again."

"Hah. That'll be the day."

Margo dropped the tailgate, and Dotty gasped with surprise. "What?"

Margo smiled grimly. "She's all yours kid. We don't want to see her in Ibis again."

Caren Hummingbird lay on a pile of dirty sacking and was fast asleep, or possibly unconscious. Her jacket had traces of vomit stains down the front and her left cheek was swollen and bruised.

"She's been drinking steadily since yesterday afternoon and picking fights with anyone who dared to look at her. Took three of us to put her down."

Dotty was aghast. "But why do we want her?" She looked round but Sali had gone inside. "SALI!" she yelled, but it was Marco and Pansy who came out to them.

Margo told the story in full, and added, "what she really said was that you all belong to her, said that one day, this farm will be called South Guard, and that Marco and Tanya are her ancestors. We thought that with her being from the future and all, it might just be true, so she's your problem now, and the best of luck to you."

Marco picked her up easily and carried her inside.

In sanity

Caren's present troubles began on the day after she had helped to bury Denny at Algar. The feeling that Denny was nearby became overpowering, even making her suddenly drop to the ground to look under the wagon, because she was sure that Denny was walking on the other side. During the afternoon, the sensation of 'oneness' that she and Denny had shared in the arena came back full blast, and later on the bad dreams started, and then turned into nightmares.

For Caren, the swaying of the ox cart had turned into the rolling motion of a boat. She clung to the short mast and looked up at the tattered sail, which flapped and fluttered in the gentle breeze, torn fingers of canvas pointing towards the nearing shore of the lake. Or was it a wide river? A glance over her shoulder showed her that Denny was still at the tiller, unmoving, silent and dressed in black and white like the Lakesiders. She was even wearing big blue sunglasses.

Denny raised one hand and pointed forward. Caren looked and saw they were approaching a wooden jetty which was the only feature of note on the dreary shore, and she shivered in the cool evening air. With a gentle bump and scrape, the little craft came to a halt and Caren jumped onto the jetty and held onto the side of the boat to hold it in place.

"Throw me the rope," she said.

Denny stood and tossed a coil of thin rope towards Caren, who caught it in her right hand. The rope gleamed silver in the fading sunlight and seemed to possess a life of it's own, twisting and writhing in Caren's grasp.

Suddenly, it coiled itself round her wrist and somehow became tied in a convoluted knot.

"Come," whispered Denny, "It's not far now," and she led the way, off the pier and across a meadow towards a low cliff. The cord from Denny's left wrist stretched taut and Caren had to follow.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"Sisters, together, we are one," Denny replied.

"No! I buried you. I know I did."

Denny stopped at a doorway in the cliff face and turned to face Caren. "We've crossed the river, Caz. Peace at last."

She raised her hand and slowly removed the sunglasses. The sight of the ravaged face shocked Caren, making her gasp for breath and her heart started to race. When the worms started wriggling out of the empty eye sockets, her scream started slowly, first as a low moan then building to a crescendo of terror.

Marco winced as she gave the high pitched squeal right against his ear and he thankfully laid her on the bed.

She opened her eyes and started gasping for breath. "Hold me," she blurted out. "Don't leave me, never leave me," and she burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

Chapter 14

### Sound advice

"She shouldn't drink so much," observed Sali.

"Shouldn't drink at all," added Flossie, "not if she's serious about having a family with Marco."

"Got to stay healthy to have a healthy baby," said Sali, reaching for the honey pot again. Flossie smiled as she watched Sali spread a generous amount of honey across a slab of crusty bread.

Sali looked up. "What?" Then she looked down at her handiwork. "This?" she asked, waving the honey coated knife. "A little bit of what you fancy does you good."

"A little bit?" queried Flossie.

"All things in moderation," replied Sali, trying to lift the bread without losing it's golden cargo. "Except honey that is. Pansy Prayerbook eats tons of it, says that it's very medicinal, so I consider it my duty, as a mother to be, to eat as much as possible as well."

"Medicinal eh? Never heard that one before. She told me it reminded her of home."

"Mmmm, medicinal, full of natural goodness. Our Tilly says so as well."

"Full of bees wings and legs more like!" Retorted Flossie, peering into the pot. "And other unmentionable bits as well I shouldn't wonder."

There was a slight pause before she continued. "Do you think she will?"

"Mmmm?" went Sali again, around a sticky mouthful.

"Make babies with Marco."

Sali coughed and Flossie found herself picking bits of second hand bread and honey from the front of her blouse.

"Sorry about that, a bit went down the wrong way. No, Marco says he can't do it."

Flossie showed her surprise, "Can't do it? That's nonsense. You've only got to look at him the right way and his trousers start to bulge in a very interesting way."

"Yes, well, we both know what he can do with his interesting trouser parts," said Sali, stroking her swollen stomach and glancing meaningfully at Flossie's equally large abdomen. "What he actually said was that he shouldn't do it, on account of how she's going to be his great great grand daughter or something. Says that the thought of it makes him feel uncomfortable."

She stopped talking and attacked her supper again.

Flossie thought a moment before continuing, "so he can, and probably wants to, but he's not going to because he feels funny?"

Sali nodded and licked her sticky fingers. "that's about it I guess."

"Humph. Selfish bugger. No thoughts for others."

Sali frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Well," said Flossie firmly, "three sodding nights of it we've had, but if he just got on with it, perhaps it would shut her up and we could all get a proper night's sleep again."

"Don't be hard on her, Floss, it can't be easy. I've tried to get inside her mind but there's something shutting me out, so I can't help her. She's got to get over Denny's death by herself."

Flossie yawned and stretched. "Come on young lady, time for bed I reckon. Let's see if we can get an hour or two before the screaming starts."

They got up, leaving the dirty dishes for the morning when someone else would clear up for them. Being expectant mothers gave them a lot of privileges, and they were determined to make the most of their 'delicate' condition. Hand in hand they slowly climbed the stairs to their shared bedroom.

Dreamland

The rhythm of her heartbeat became embedded in the dream, which slowly but surely turned to nightmare again.

Bump bump, bump bump, slow and steady at first, then faster and stronger. Caren raised her head and stared into the black, empty pits where Denny's eyes should have been. She could see Denny's mouth opening and closing but the words were indistinct and lost in the rising drumbeat of her own heart.

Bump bump, bump bump. Faster, stronger, louder.

Denny turned and walked away and Caren was forced to follow where her dead soulmate took her. Looking down, the silver cord still bound her right wrist to Denny's left. She tried to shake it off, but the cunning knot defied her clumsy fingers.

Denny led the way and she had no choice but to follow. They eventually stopped at the cliff face and the door was there as before, third rock from the left. A small window in the door opened and a pair of bright eyes looked out at them.

A distant voice called out, "go away."

"I have an appointment," Denny whispered.

The eyes faded and the window closed, then the door opened slightly.

"Name?"

"Denzil Sazgood."

The door opened wider and the gatekeeper was revealed to them. It was a man. A very old man, with wispy white hair and beard standing proud from his head as if the few hairs and whiskers he had left were straining to get away from him. Dirty feet showed below his dirty robes and gnarled hands held the door edge tightly. His eyes flickered briefly towards Caren. "She can't come in, it's not her turn yet."

"We are together," said Denny.

"We are one," answered Caren automatically.

"So be it," said the keeper and waved them in.

"Wait while I find your records," he said irritably and motioned them to one side of the bare drab room behind the door.

They stood in silence, watching as he searched the many drawers of a cabinet, all the while muttering to himself, "He won't like it, He won't like it."

Finally he found what he was looking for and hastily copied something onto a slip of paper. "Take this," he ordered, "room 678, down there," and he pointed to another door that had appeared in the rock wall beside them.

"Well go on then, get on with it. And don't dawdle, the business is closing down soon and we're in the middle of packing."

Door after door after door on each side of the corridor which stretched away endlessly into the distance. Most of them showing signs of not being opened for a very long time, some broken and hanging from their hinges, and a few nailed shut with faded and peeling warnings painted across them.

One or two doors opened slightly as they passed, and unearthly eyes peered sadly and longingly at them, then at 591 a bony hand reached out and clawed at Caren's clothing.

"Don't go on," a whining voice called out. "It's out again and John Dark won't save you."

Ominous animal noises came from the tunnel ahead and urged Caren's heart to beat even faster and the clawing hand pulled her down to her knees.

"In here, in here."

Bump bump, bump bump.

Metallic footsteps sounded from ahead, or was it behind. The clawing hand was at her back and she tried to yell out in fear, but her voice betrayed her.

"Denny help me," she whimpered.

Footsteps nearer, louder, the hand reached her shoulder and gripped tight.

"Caren," boomed a voice near her in the darkness.

"It's coming," she screamed, finding her voice at last, then she leaned over the side of the bed and threw up violently.

She lay a moment staring down at the mess on the floor.

Marco stroked the hair away from her eyes and kissed her forehead. "Lay still and I'll get it cleaned up."

"I don't remember having carrots," she sobbed.

"Hush darling," he whispered, "There's always carrots."

Death Bringer whirled round, his wild eyes searching the darkness. Somehow they had eluded him again.

Born to run, he needed to chase something. Born to bite, his wicked teeth snapped shut just missing the hastily withdrawn arm and the door was slammed shut in his face. Born to kick, the door shook under his onslaught but held firm.

He screamed his anger and started running again, trying to burn off his frustrations in a state of exhaustion that he knew would never come.

Chapter 15

### Surveillance

"Awful quiet down there don't you think?"

Bubbles looked up at Glen's comment and then went back to sharpening her new sword. "Looks like she's not dared to complain about us then."

Her breathing was just about back to normal now, after their steady run out of Altmore and up the hill to the North, where they sat under a tree, watching for pursuit and waiting for Daisy to join them. Glen pursed her lips and nodded silently.

The hiss of stone on steel stopped as Bubbles decided that the edge was good enough for the time being. She held the sword in front of her, laid across her palms and rocked the blade back and forth to catch the suns rays.

"Beautiful," she whispered. "I've never owned anything like this before," she glanced down at her trousers and boots. "Nor these either. How am I going to repay you Glen? I've got no money, never likely to have any either."

Glen smiled at her new partner. A week ago, Bubbles had been penniless and nearly dressed in rags, but now she owned a new outfit, complete with sword in a wooden, sheepskin lined scabbard, two knives and a spoon, courtesy of Glen's generosity. Everybody in Spangerland owned at least a spoon but Bubbles had been desperate enough to swap hers for a loaf of bread.

"No need. Think of it as all the birthday presents you should have had, all in one go." Glen got to her feet again, and brushed the dirt off her pants, "she's coming."

When they had made a hasty retreat from Bonnie Boots' shop, Daisy had stayed near the town to look for her friend, Molly. At the time of Daisy's arrest by the militia, for several burglaries, Molly had been ill with a fever, and Daisy had been trying to nurse her back to health.

"Doesn't look very happy," said Bubbles as she watched Daisy slowly climb the hill towards them.

Glen agreed. "Looks like bad news."

The news was as bad as it could get. "She's dead," Daisy told them. "Wagon carted her off a month ago. Bastards!"

Glen did some quick calculations. "When the militia took you away."

Daisy nodded, anger and guilt chasing each other round and around her brain. "She'd still be alive if I hadn't been caught. It's all my fault." She sat on the ground, with her back to the tree, head in hands and shedding silent tears.

After a couple of minutes, Bubbles interrupted her mourning. "Want to visit her grave?"

Daisy shook her head and dried her eyes. "No point," she said angrily. "She'll be in the big pit, covered in lime and surrounded by bloody weeds."

Glen and Bubbles looked at each other across Daisy's head, and Glen shrugged her shoulders. "Come on," she said to Daisy, "pick up your pack, we ought to start out now. We've got a good six hours of daylight left, and can get a long way from here if we move smartish."

"Wait," said Daisy, "there's more."

"Yes?"

"I asked about her, Conti, and she's doing the wagon run. Due back here in about four days on her way home."

"Ah." Glen went very thoughtful, considering the options open to them and came to a decision. "Change of plan girls," she said smiling. "Instead of sitting around, waiting for her to turn up, we'll be heading East for a short way, and with hard work and a bit of luck we can earn ourselves a little bonus. Get our money back."

Bubbles frowned. She didn't know that anyone lived out that way. "What's out there then?" she asked, but Glen just smiled and said, "wide open spaces and fresh air."

They travelled North for two hours, then turned East along a barely visible track, which followed a small stream into the foothills of the central plateau. They were now heading for a region somewhere to the North of Guardians Nest. Wild country, seldom visited by any animal with less than four legs, where it was survival of the fittest. Or fastest?

Glen informed them that they were about two hours from their destination, but it would be safer to make camp for the night in a cave she knew of just ahead.

"That's it," she said eventually and pointed.

There was nothing much to see at first, but as they drew nearer to the cliff face, Bubbles and Daisy were amazed to see a wooden door, partially hidden by thorn bushes. Glen examined the door from a distance before letting them go closer.

"Can't see anything wrong." she nodded to herself in satisfaction and they went forward again. She peeped through the door's barred window and sniffed the air.

"OK girls, let's play house shall we?"

The door was opened without too much effort and the cave was as Glen, Beryl and Basher had left it two years previously. A stone cistern, now empty, and three rough beds were the main features, but there were some old tools and weapons to one side, next to a pile of firewood.

While Daisy laid the fire in a stone circle outside the door, Glen and Bubbles took axes from the cave and repaired the thorn bush fence.

"Might not need it," said Glen, "but better safe than sorry."

They cut down whole bushes and forced them into the fence to fill the gaps that two years of storms and neglect had produced.

"Do we really need it this big?" asked Bubbles, "I'm aching all over."

Glen smiled at her friends discomfort. Bubbles wasn't in the best physical condition, but was improving slowly. "As high and solid as possible," she told her. "We were stuck in there for three days once, with a bloody great lion sitting outside watching us and licking it's lips." She laughed at the memory of it.

Bubbles looked round with a horrified expression. "Lion? Three days? What did you do?" she asked.

Glen shrugged. "Oh, played dice a bit, told stories. That sort of thing."

"No, about the lion."

"Waited till it got bored and wandered off then went to get our spears that one of us, who shall remain nameless, had left outside. After that, no problem."

"Did it just go away then?"

Glen simply grinned and opened her shirt a little to show her the necklace made of lion's claws.

Bubble's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "High as possible," she said and kept glancing round fearfully as she worked.

Playing house also meant several trips to the nearby stream to fill up the cistern again with a leaky wooden bucket, and cleaning and sharpening the spears. Like she said, "better safe than sorry."

There were plenty of outlandish noises in the night but none really close by, and soon after daybreak they set off after a meagre breakfast, carrying the digging tools as well as their own spears, heading for what Glen told them was called, tommy ticker.

They walked without a break for about six or seven kilometres and arrived at their destination without seeing or hearing anyone, or anything.

"Is this it then?" asked Bubbles wearily as she surveyed the surrounding scrubland.

"Certainly is," replied Glen, "over here. Look." And led them to where she had last been digging two years ago. She knelt down and brushed the dirt away to expose a pale blue surface with faded off-white lettering. "Can you read Spanish?"

Daisy shook her head. She knew her numbers OK but couldn't read very well.

Bubbles read the words slowly, and translated into English. "Tome su tique. Take your ticket?"

"Well done, go to the top of the class."

Daisy looked round in bewilderment. "What do you need a ticket for? There's nothing here."

"Well ladies, down there, below your feet is the royal road."

Her two companions dutifully looked down at the hard dirt they were standing on, and looked back at her in disbelief.

"No, not there, right under your feet, but about two metres down. I've seen it. Black as night it is, and in the old days, people had to pay to use it."

"Pay to use a road?" Bubbles' voice showed her scepticism. "Never heard of such a thing. Why would anyone pay to use a road?"

"Because, as the humble sailor that you are, it would take you at least two weeks to walk from Gap to the fabled city of Madrid. But as the Lady Leona, you would travel this special road in your magic carriage and be there in half a day."

"How do you know that then?"

"Seen some old books with maps and numbers in."

Bubbles was ready to carry on debating but Glen stopped her arguments. "Just trust me, and when you see what there is down there, well, you'll be apologising later."

She found the exact spot where they had dug last time, and pointed out the two other shallower craters that were all that was left of previous excavations. Pacing out the steps between the depressions, and then beyond, Glen stopped and called them over. "Here," she informed them. Or if we're unlucky, the same distance the other way." She surveyed their unhappy faces. "Yes, the road's a couple of metres down, but we're only looking for the top of the kiosk where they collected the money."

Scratching lines in the dirt, she instructed them to dig two trenches across where she thought the toll booth should be.

"You actually expect to find real money then?" asked Daisy as she started to dig.

"Did last time. Loads of it, and other things too." She made no mention of the disappointment they had felt when the second dig had produced absolutely nothing, but told them about the glittering piles of money and jewellery they might find nestling in the earth below them.

Wielding their rusty mattocks and shovels they had exposed nothing but more dirt, and were on the verge of giving up when they struck gold. The roof of the booth was still yellow in parts and Daisy's mattock produced a reassuringly hollow sound when she struck it.

"Now the hard part begins. We have to remove a big square of dirt to make it safe to go inside. But first, time to rest our aching backs and have a drink."

They eventually exposed the full roof of the booth and carefully dug down one side to expose the plastic window, and even though it was only just past noonday, they were getting hot and tired from their exertions.

"Nearly done now girls," said Glen, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "All we have to do now is break the window and pray it's not all been in vain."

She balanced precariously on the edge of the roof above the pit they had created and swung the mattock down with all the force she could muster. Then again, and again before declaring it was someone else's turn.

They got back to the cave before sunset and collapsed thankfully on their beds.

After she had recovered from the forced march, Daisy made some flat bread with the last of their flour and they ate it with cheese and olive oil, savouring every delicious mouthful, knowing that they would have to go foraging for food in the morning.

"Do I apologise now Glen?"

Glen shook her head. "Not really love. I didn't believe it the first time either."

"Can we count it yet?" asked Daisy eagerly.

Glen agreed and putting down her bulging cloak, indicated that Daisy could untie it. With the cloak laid flat at last, they spread out their finds in neat rows and examined the mysteries from the past. The stainless steel knife, fork and spoon presented no challenge to their imaginations, nor did the plastic lunchbox they were in, but a screwdriver and a dozen electronic components completely baffled them as did most of the other strange items they had collected.

Glen picked up and caressed each of the things they had found, and they made wild guesses as to their original uses, some nearly right and some hopelessly wrong. Then there was only the steel box that Glen had wrenched away from the wall of the booth. It was heavy and rattled in a very satisfying manner. Using the hammer, gently at first, but getting gradually wilder, Bubbles managed to break the locking mechanism, making the lid spring open at last, and she tipped the contents out onto the cloak.

"Flaming seesaws!" exclaimed Daisy, with eyes as big as saucers as the coins spilled out into an untidy heap.

After a moment's silence as they gazed at the incredible pile of money, Bubbles started crying softly and the other two looked at her in surprise.

Glen put her arm round the older woman's shoulders and held her tight. "What's wrong pet?"

"Is it really mine?" she blurted out, her voice shaking, "some of it?"

Glen kissed her gently. "Of course it is. We can probably sell the weird stuff to one of the men, or Margaret, but the coins? We'll give maybe half of them to Beryl for emergencies, but we each have an equal share of the rest when we get home."

"Where's home?" asked Daisy quietly.

Glen realised instantly what she meant. Daisy had been on the streets for years and had nowhere to call home. "For me, home is wherever Beryl says it is, but when this is over, you can either stay with us or go to Ibis, to live with Caren Hummingbird."

As Daisy glanced briefly at the pile of silver, copper and brass coins, Glen nodded and carried on, "you've done your share of the work, so you still get your share of the money."

Daisy smiled in relief, both she and Bubbles had been penniless for as long as they could remember and here, in front of them was the promise of a secure future.

Chapter 16

### The RABBITS

Conti was happy to be nearly home, as this was the last trip to Altmore she would be making for a while. It had been six days since her menstrual cycle finished, and in three days time she would be running round the lake with Walter.

He ran the lake every day, whatever the weather, and the girls that Consuela chose to run with him had to be as fit as he was if they wanted to keep up with him. If they wanted? Of course they wanted. At the end of the run they would swim in the lake near his house, Ana would prepare a meal for them, and then there was the promise of that massage and love making that was the talk of the town. The women and girls of Lakeside had been disappointed, and probably rightly so, when Walter had arrived to take up residence as 'their' man. Even though he was ruggedly handsome and kept himself fit by running and vigorous exercise, he was the oldest of the six men who had arrived in the time machine, and his sexual prowess had not lived up to the Lakesider's expectations.

All that had changed after the Spring fair, when Walter's new found energy and appetite had taken them by surprise, and the girls waited in eager anticipation and some degree of dread for Consuela and Sybil to announce the name of the next one to 'run the lake'.

So Conti daydreamed about the day when she and Walter would become one, when she would scream and moan just like cousin Consuela, and upset the dogs in the night.

Her blissful reverie came to an end when she was still several kilometres South of Lakeside, as she rounded a bend in the trail and saw three women in the road, apparently having an argument. Fearing they were bandits, she halted the wagon while still some forty metres away from them, grabbed her bow and bag of arrows, and jumped to the ground. She nocked an arrow and waited in readiness, but they still went on arguing, waving their arms and looking up the trail, towards Lakeside.

At last, one of them saw her standing there and gave a brief wave, then turned to the others again. She obviously said something to them as they looked at Conti as well. One of them left the group and came towards her.

"Stop right there," Conti yelled, her panic rising.

The girl, she could only be about sixteen or so, thought Conti, stopped and held her arms out wide. "Sorry about the delay," she called out. "Inspector Raven says we'll be done soon."

Conti frowned. "Done? Done doing what?"

"Oh, sorry, didn't I explain? We're the rabbits." Conti just looked at her so Daisy carried on, reciting what Glen had taught her. "R-A-B-I-T, road and bridge inspection team, and we're looking for a bridge that should be here somewhere."

Conti still wore an incredulous look, so Daisy played her trump card, taking out of her pocket a brightly coloured card. "Here, look. It's my permit." She held out the credit card they had found in the kiosk but Conti raised the bow a little.

"Right," said Daisy slowly. "I'll just put it down here then, shall I?"

She put it on the ground and retreated down the trail. Conti shuffled forward and peered down at the plastic card with a picture of a white rabbit on it.

"Ronnie Rabbit," Conti's mouth silently mimed the foreign words as she read them. "Your road to a secure future" She looked up at the odd trio, one of whom was now tiptoeing away from her towards a small box in the middle of the trail.

Daisy looked round at Conti who had lowered the bow uncertainly. She walked slowly back and held out her hand for her card and Conti passed it over.

"No bridges round here, Ronnie."

"Local are you?" asked Daisy brightly.

Conti nodded, "live in Lakeside."

Daisy looked at the wagon and back to Conti, "Oh of course," she exclaimed. "You're Conti aren't you. Conti, err, San Michel?"

"San Miguel," Conti corrected. "How did you know that?"

Daisy waved towards the North. "They said you would be coming, didn't know exactly when though."

Conti relaxed. "What are you trying to do then?"

"Well, we've got this old map that shows the roads and stuff that used to be here, and they've given us this locator thing but it's playing up a bit. We're trying to reset it now, then it'll point us towards the nearest bridge. At least we hope it will."

Conti frowned and thought a moment. "Why look for something that's not there?"

Daisy leant forward and lowered her voice. "Money."

Conti's eyes lit up. "What, buried treasure?"

Daisy nodded. "Yeh, sort of. The map shows a toll bridge, and they think the money is still there." She paused a moment. "Oh, now then, with you having local know how, you could help us find it, if Raven says so of course. Could be a pound or two in it for you."

Conti was getting excited at the thought of having cash in her pocket again, and her eyes were sparkling.

Daisy landed the killer blow. "Shall I ask her?"

Conti jumped at the chance and they walked down the track to the others.

"This is Conti," said Daisy. "Conti San Miguel and she's local. We can probably find it quicker with her help."

Glen looked at Conti thoughtfully. "OK." she said at last. "Welcome to the team."

Conti's heart leapt. She was going to be rich.

"Now," said Glen. "I think it's had long enough, so we'll try again. Inspector Buzz, remove the map please."

They all crouched down round the small box in the road, and Bubbles carefully lifted off the ancient road map which covered it to reveal nothing but loose sand.

"Now, digger Flowers, insert your fingers and prepare to lift."

Daisy slowly worked her fingers into the sand. "Got it," she said.

"Funny thing," said Glen. "We thought it had gone for good. Another inspector lost it, but then it turned up again. Lift it now, slowly, there's a good girl."

The sand shifted and ran in small avalanches as Daisy's hand rose so very slowly, at first revealing a soft gleam of red, then as the ruby ring came clear of the box it sparkled in the bright sunlight.

Conti's heart began to race, her mouth went dry and she started to feel dizzy as she recognised the ring she had taken from around Tanya Vine's neck.

Seeing stars

Tanya was in tears as she left the Swan, still reeling from Jade's cruel words. She half ran and stumbled along the front of the inn towards the South gate, but at the corner of the building, she bumped into three figures coming the other way.

"Watch where you're going you clumsy oaf," yelled one.

"Sorry," said Tanya automatically, and there was a gasp as she was recognised.

"Homestead bitch," snarled Sonia, and Tanya heard no more after Solidad felled her with one blow from her knob stick.

They dragged her round the corner into the alley next to Gloria's residence, where they had been engaged in a little petty pilfering.

"Shall we do her here?" asked Solidad, fingering her knife.

Sonia shook her head, even though the others could hardly see her. "No, I've got plans for this little madam," she said, as her dreams of vengeance became reality.

"You, Soli. Back inside. That wig you took the comb from. Bring it out here."

As Solidad crept back towards Altmore's leader's house, Conti saw the ring on the string as she helped to pull Tanya's dress off, and managed to remove it and get it down the front of her own blouse before Sonia noticed.

Sonia took her knife out and started crudely hacking off Tanya's hair. She was none too careful and Tanya's scalp was soon bleeding from several minor cuts. Conti looked on in surprise as Sonia collected all the hair and thrust it into her own pockets.

"Tie her up and gag the bitch," she commanded, and Tanya was laying there helpless and half naked when Solidad returned.

"Got it," she said and held out Gloria's wig.

"Not for me, fathead," retorted Sonia and slapped it away. "It's for you. Put it on, and the dress, and this is what you're going to do."

Conti staggered to her feet, her eyes riveted on the ring she had sold to Bonnie Boots for one and a half pounds just a few short weeks ago.

"I think I've changed my mind," she gasped, then gasped again, but louder, as Bubbles pushed her in the chest, causing her to fall over Daisy, who was now crouched down behind her.

"Going so soon?" asked Glen calmly, "and I thought you wanted to help us."

After a brief struggle, they tied her feet and hands together and removed her knife, with Conti crying and yelling for help as they did so.

"Save your breath girly," said Bubbles leering at her menacingly, "no one can hear you. You're ours now."

Conti whimpered as Bubbles examined the contents of her purse and Glen sliced blades of grass to test the edge of her knife.

"Tell us about Tanya Vine," Said Glen menacingly.

Conti shook her head vigorously.

"You will tell us, I promise you. How soon is up to you, and for your sake, the sooner the better."

Conti fearfully watched the blade of her own knife weaving slowly in front of her face. To the left, to the right, coming nearer, retreating again.

"Daisy."

"Yes Glen?"

"Go and look after the wagon."

"The wagon?"

"Yes, you don't want to see this."

Daisy got slowly to her feet and walked away, not looking back.

Conti started crying again. "You can't do this," she sobbed. "It's not my fault. I didn't do it."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere." The knife hovered above Conti's left eye. "Tell me more. Tell me who's fault it really is."

Conti screwed her eyes tight and then screamed as Glen tapped her on the forehead with the flat of the blade.

"Tell me, or madam knife here will be changing colour very soon."

"Sonia," she gasped and her voice fell as she sobbed out, "it was Sonia and Solidad."

"I feel so stupid," said Solidad as she fastened Tanya's dress and put on Gloria's wig. "Nobody's gonna believe that I'm her."

"Shut up complaining and just do it," Sonia ordered. "Well, go on then, and make sure you're seen."

Solidad walked away, muttering as she went, out of the South gate towards the house where Tanya was staying.

As she disappeared into the gloom, Sonia and Conti carried Tanya along the alley and heaved her into the back of the wagon that was due to leave for Lakeside in the morning. Eventually, Solidad returned, carrying all of Tanya's possessions.

"Well?" said Sonia.

"Just like you wanted," replied Solidad. "The old biddy saw me, but not too close. She watched me go down the Ibis road, then I doubled back through the fields."

Sonia nodded and smiled in satisfaction. "That should confuse them enough to give us a day or two." She then gave her two willing accomplices their next orders. They would take it in turns to stay with the wagon, to make sure that nobody discovered it's sorry cargo, then Soli would drive it out of town at daybreak, while Sonia and Conti made sure the regular driver was unavailable.

"So, if I've got this straight," mused Glen, "Solidad drove out of town with Tanya tied up in the back, and you did nothing to stop her."

"I tried, I tried," snivelled Conti, "I told them it was wrong, but they wouldn't listen to me."

"And then you sold her ring to Bonnie bloody Boots," snarled Bubbles, "and you never tried to help Tanya."

"They threatened to cut me if I told anyone. I was scared of them." Conti started sobbing again. "I tried to free her in the night, honest I did. I managed to get her things, but Soli was coming back and I had to run."

"Her things," growled Glen. "I suppose you sold them as well."

"No, no, I buried them. In the Swan's yard, behind the closet."

Conti wailed as Bubbles grabbed a fistful of her hair and said menacingly, "Where did Soli take her? Where's Tanya Vine now?"

She refused to answer, until Bubbles had slapped her face two or three times.

"It wasn't my idea, Sonia told her to take her up the hill just off cow lane, and stake her out for the wolves."

Bubbles sat back on her heels and there was a deathly silence, only broken by the sound of rushing water in the river and Conti's occasional sobs.

It wasn't that far away, and they found the body, or what was left of it, naked and blackened, like overdone leftovers at an obscene barbecue, slowly rotting away and providing the small denizens of the woods with an unholy meal. Daisy turned away but had seen too much already and vomited violently, again and again, until there was nothing left but noise and the pain of contracting muscles. Bubbles returned to the wagon where they had left Conti securely bound, and collected her blanket to wrap the corpse in. They carefully gathered up what was left of the body, and spilling white maggots everywhere, wrapped it securely in the blanket, before Glen lifted the pathetic bundle easily and laid it with reverential care in the back of the wagon.

She nudged Conti with her foot. "Where do we find the lovely Solidad?" she asked.

Conti giggled, so Glen kicked her a little harder. "Where?"

"In the cemetery," she hissed. Glen's twisted expression made her shout out in fear. "It's true, I swear," she blurted out. "She was already there when we got back from the fair at Altmore." Her voice rose hysterically as she tried to divert Glen's obvious anger. "Marlene Makepiece saw her with a bottle, drunk she was, and she fell in the river and drowned."

"Shit!" Bubbles spat out the word. "What are we going to do now, Glen?"

Glen gave a big sigh as she accepted the possibility that Conti was telling the truth, and Solidad really was beyond their reach. "We'll give her the honour that she deserves, and see what happens then."

"Who deserves? Tanya?" asked Bubbles.

Glen nodded then smiled grimly as she looked at their prisoner. "She can't go to the afterlife with no clothes though, can she?"

Siesta time was over, so Rosaline was wide awake when the oxcart rumbled up to her house, the first one on the South side of town. She was also very surprised when it stopped outside, and even more surprised when she saw Conti, naked as the day she was born and tethered to the back of the wagon by a long rope. Conti sank to her knees to take the weight off her bloody feet, and Rosaline started forward to help her but was stopped by Bubbles.

"Leave her," she ordered. "She's getting her just rewards."

Rosaline tried to argue but was driven back and forced to help the others as they moved her wood pile to the roadway, where they built a funeral pyre for Tanya Vine.

Eventually Glen declared it good enough and they laid Tanya's earthly remains on top of it with Conti's clothes, plus a spear and shield they took from the wagon.

Bubbles and Daisy lit the pyre in several places and the flames licked higher and higher.

"Hear me," shouted Glen. "Hear me Lady of the night, hear my plea. Take the soul of Tanya Vine into your eternal care, and give her the peace she deserves."

In that world of in between, where truth and lies often mean the same thing, a red faced runner entered room 678.

"Excuse me ma'am, but there's a message coming through for you next door."

"680?" she queried.

The runner nodded and backed out of the room.

"Time to be the Lady of the night again," she mused. "Wonder what they want this time."

"Accept my blood as payment for her passage to your side and I will be forever in your debt."

Glen made a small cut on her forearm and allowed it to bleed onto a piece of dirty cloth, then balled it up and threw it into the flames.

"You." She called the woman to her. "Take a message for me, up there," and she indicated towards Lakeside centre. "Here's ten cents for your trouble, and this is what you say to cousin Consuela."

When the woman had repeated the message to Glen's satisfaction, and was on her way, Glen told her fellow travellers to get ready for trouble.

They were poorly armed, having only side arms, short spears and round shields, but after sending the message that they were only one group of many, all searching for Tanya, Glen did not expect any bloodshed, and they stood in the road watching the first of the Lakesiders coming their way.

Glen glanced at the little boat tied up against the wooden pier. "Is it ready?" she asked.

"All loaded up and only held with a loop on the stake." replied Bubbles. "Quick and easy." She looked up at the tree tops. "Wind's right too."

"Looks like she's heard the news," said Daisy, her voice betraying her fear. She wasn't a fighter, more of a 'let's run away' sort of person.

Consuela was hurrying towards them with a large group of women, some of whom were carrying spears.

"What is the meaning of this madness?" she demanded, as she stopped a safe distance away.

"This is only madness when seen from the outside, but madness or not, it finishes here," shouted Glen. "But only if you let it. We are giving Tanya Vine the funeral she deserves, as prima and leader of many. Stay back!" This last retort directed at one woman getting too close for comfort. "I presume you know this sorry wretch?" and she waved her spear at Conti, rope still round her neck, hands tied and shivering with fright. "What an interesting tale she tells."

"Look at her," yelled Consuela. "Torture anybody and they will tell you anything you want to hear, you know that."

"She told her tale freely, and all you have to do is ask stupid Sonia why and how Tanya Vine ended up dead in your woods." There was a brief silence before Glen continued. "For us it ends here. But be warned that Tanya was kin to Caren Hummingbird, and if you want more, then she will be pleased to pay you a visit, but she will not be alone. She will come with a hundred wardogs and they'll tear this place down, brick by stinking brick." She pulled on the rope and Conti staggered forward. "Here, I believe this is yours."

She motioned to Bubbles and Daisy, and they backed away slowly to the boat. The Lakesiders watched them go but Consuela shook her head at the unspoken request from her guards for permission to follow and attack.

"Find Sonia, I want to see her, now," she ordered. She pointed to Conti, "Get that creature some clothes, her nakedness insults me. And bring her to me as well."

In room 680, Mary, mother of the Lord Jesus, was in her role as the Lady of the night, as she welcomed the new arrival.

"Come in my dear," she said gently. "Found us all right did you?"

The girl made a small curtsy, "yes ma'am."

"Ah. Now that's odd, we were expecting Tanya Vine."

Chapter 17

### Mine all mine

As the first light of day crept between the buildings of Altmore, Solidad goaded the draught cattle into reluctant action and Tanya Vine started her journey into hell.

Soli was in a foul mood because Tanya's few possessions had disappeared overnight, and she had been intending to sell them and keep the money for herself. Bloody Sonia or bloody Conti, she thought. Just wait till we meet again. Her thoughts of revenge were interrupted by two women carrying an awkward bundle.

They waved her to stop and asked for her help, explaining that what they were carrying was a kid who had been ill and died, so could she please take them to the cemetery. No, she had no kinfolk and lived rough, in the old mill.

Soli helped them to put the body in the wagon, making sure that they didn't see Tanya under the pile of blankets, then told them to go home, as she could manage OK by herself.

Relieved of their unwelcome task, the women were grateful for Solidad's help and only watched her heading towards the cemetery for a moment or two before returning to their breakfasts.

The wagon rumbled slowly past the cemetery gates and Solidad whistled tunelessly as another plan took shape in her head. The body in the back was worth nothing, the same as a dead Tanya Vine, but if Tanya Vine was alive? Well, there was a place she knew of where money changed hands for able bodied workers, and no questions asked. The body in the back would be unrecognisable after a few days on the forest floor, so if she cut the dead girls hair?

It was two days before the body could be unloaded and tied down, naked and shorn, in the clearing, and both Solidad and Tanya were glad to be rid of the decomposing body. Tanya had lain in the wagon face to face with the corpse, and her empty stomach still rebelled against the sweet scent of decay she had been forced to breathe.

One more day after that, and they reached Tanya's final destination. Tintown.

Not many travellers came this way because it was the most Northern town of the country and 'the end of the line', but strangers could have found Tintown by the smell and pall of smoke that hung over the fettling sheds where the salvaged metal was cleaned, sorted and graded. Solidad drove the wagon between the sheds and brought the cattle to an untidy halt by the office building, where three mine workers, dressed in rags were sitting in the dirt. The door was standing open and Olivia Deacon, Tintown's prima, and Miriam the overseer came quickly out, Miriam gesturing irritably to the miners to get on their feet.

Solidad frowned as Olivia beckoned the ragged women forward.

"Is this the one?" asked Olivia, with a worried look on her face.

Tanya groaned in pain as the rope round her ankles was untied. The stink of three day old urine and faeces was joined by the subtle smell of corruption as the dirty cloth was gently removed from her left foot.

Cherry Shilling pulled a grim face as she turned to Olivia and nodded.

"Is it bad?"

Cherry looked to her companions for confirmation. "We might be able to do something."

Solidad was mystified, but Miriam urged her to the rear of the wagon where she saw Tanya's feet for the first time. "What the hell's happened to her?" she blurted out, eyes wide and staring at the bloody mess.

It had happened in Altmore, after Sonia and Conti had watched her walk out of town, wearing Gloria's wig and Tanya's dress.

"What are we doing with her, Sonia?" asked Conti.

"Giving her what she deserves."

Tanya had recovered from the blow on the head, and was laying, bound hand and foot in the wagon bed, looking wildly about her trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Murdering bitch is awake I see," said Sonia, smiling grimly. "Let me tell you a story." She grabbed Tanya's jaw firmly in her right hand to hold her head steady and brought her face close, to look into her eyes. "I had a mother and sister once," she began. "Until that bloody fiasco at Asher's farm."

Tanya tried to speak through the gag, but could only make muffled grunts and groans.

"Shut up bitch. No one's interested. My beautiful mother died of blood poisoning after she got an arrow in her chest. Not your fault, because you're not an archer do I hear you say? Or try to say. Tough." She spat out the last word, and Tanya's blood ran cold at the venom in her voice. "Someone's got to pay. But my sister?" She stopped the narration as someone passed the end of the alley, then started again as the footsteps carried on.

"Susanna was older than me and a right pain in the arse, but she was still my blood. Want to know how she died?" she paused a moment as if waiting for a reply, then carried on. "Of course you do, don't you. Strange, the way she went. If you were asked to write down all the wounds you could possibly get in a battle, you wouldn't put 'a knife in the ear' very near the top of the list would you?"

Tanya started struggling against her bonds as Sonia's words brought the events of that fateful day so vividly back, when she broke her bodkin in the woman's ear while her back was turned.

Sonia held her tight and hissed, "oh, you remember. I'm so glad. Saves me any guilty feelings later on. Heard you were a bit handy with knives but wasn't sure it was you, until now. What's that you say? You're sorry? Tut tut, too late for that deary, should have thought of it earlier. You're going to die Tanya bloody Vine, but that's not enough now."

She held her knife close to Tanya's face to make sure she saw it. "No way out for you girl, not after calling me names. It'll be your turn to limp now, If you ever get to walk again, which is probably unlikely."

Tanya struggled even harder, but to no avail, as Conti sat on her chest and Sonia held her legs, then she gave a long muffled scream as Sonia started to hack at the little toe on Tanya's left foot. When the toe was finally severed, Tanya fainted and was saved from further agony.

"Here," said Sonia and handed Conti the knife.

"What?"

"Take it. She put an arrow in your leg, so get your revenge, now."

"I can't," mumbled Conti, and shook her head almost invisibly in the dark.

"Do it now or else," she snarled, and Conti reluctantly swapped places.

"Give," demanded Sonia as Conti held the toe she had cut off at arms length. "Six will look better than three," she said as she put both severed toes in her pocket with Tanya's hair.

"Now, wrap her foot up in something. Can't have her bleeding all over the wagon, can we?"

"I didn't know," said Solidad lamely, as the three ex-priestesses carried Tanya across the yard to the bare cell that had been their home since the sisterhood of the temple had been blamed for the defeat at Asher's farm.

Olivia looked at her scornfully. "Your sort never do."

She turned to go back inside, and Solidad called out, "what about my money?"

"Money? You bring me a dying cripple to look after, and you want paying as well?"

Solidad nodded and frowned. "Yeh, well. She's a strong girl, and she'll get over it in a week or two. And there's my expenses aren't there?"

Olivia looked at her in disdain. "Come back in a year or so, and if she's still alive and well, then we might just give you a copper or two. For the immense trouble you have gone to, of course."

She turned and went back to the office without waiting for a response, and when she was safely inside and out of earshot, Soli muttered some choice curses.

"Don't take it too hard now," said Miriam. "She's just a bit put out by something the raggedy annes said the other day. Why don't you come back in a couple of weeks and I'm sure you'll get your pound."

Solidad pouted and kicked a pebble across the yard. "Doesn't seem likely to me."

Miriam smiled at her show of petulance. She had been young and foolish once, and had a liking for the girl. "Tell you what, you call in at my house, last one down that way, and tell Monica that I said you were to have one of my special bottles. Us Northern girls got to stick together. It's us against the world these days."

Soli cheered up a little and collected the promised bottle of liquor, a fierce plum brandy, and set out for home, but the cattle arrived without her, as she was roaring drunk by the time the wagon arrived at Lakeside. Marlene Makepiece dropped her basket of fruit and looked on with horrified helplessness as Solidad stood unsteadily in the back of the wagon, singing an obscene song, then toppled majestically sideways into the fast flowing river, and was swept past her towards the waterfall, still clutching the bottle.

With Solidad's unfortunate demise, Tanya's arrival at Tintown went unheralded and unnoticed by anyone outside of the mining community.

Chapter 18

### Corridors of power

Tanya was conscious, but only half aware of what was happening to her, and she cried out in pain as Cherry, Izzy and Candy laid her on one of the two beds in their bare cell, then methodically started to get her cleaned up, removing her soiled clothes and occasionally giving her sips of a sweet red wine.

Eventually, Tanya's whimpers turned to giggles and Izzy decided that the poppy laden drink was working well enough for them to begin the real work of the afternoon, and they tied Tanya down to the bed and strapped her left leg tightly to a wooden board.

While Cherry talked softly to Tanya and got only nonsensical replies from her, Izzy worked quickly, only having to cut away a small amount of flesh that looked dead, but had to make an incision in the sole of Tanya's foot to act as a drain for the yellow matter that had already begun to accumulate. Using a straw, she inserted a narrow strip of linen soaked in alcohol deep into the incision to prevent it from healing and sealing, at which point Tanya fainted away again.

Finally, Cherry liberally coated the wound with honey and wrapped a bandage loosely round the foot, while Izzy returned to Olivia the knife she had been loaned.

Four days later Tanya had a fever, and even though she was drifting in and out of consciousness, Miriam sent her three carers back underground to work in a new section that had just been opened. The villagers, who worked because they got paid, unlike the prisoners, had refused to go inside the mine again because they were afraid of meeting Sandy Bookworm's spirit. She had died in the mine when a wall collapsed on her but there was no sign of her body. So, no matter whether they were willing or not, the remaining eleven prisoners had to go underground permanently, while the villagers took the slightly easier, but much safer option, of working in the fettling sheds.

Tanya cried out in her delirium, but there was no one to hear or help her. In her fevered mind, she was wandering, lost and alone, and kept looking fearfully over her shoulder for signs of pursuit.

"What are you afraid of?"

Tanya looked round quickly, but it was a stranger, a young woman wearing chain mail but carrying no weapon. "Margaret's after me," she gasped. "She wants Marco back again but he's mine now. She gave him to me, honest."

"You should not be here, at least, not yet. Shall I show you the way out?"

"But what if Margaret's out there?"

"What if she is actually in here? You must face her some time."

"She'll kill me, I know she will."

"She loves you, I know she does."

Tanya put her hand on the woman's arm. "But I hit her. She didn't like it and she'll remember and do something bad to me."

Voices in the distance stopped them in their tracks and they stood there, listening to the sound of a muted argument.

"Who is it?" whispered Tanya fearfully, "is it Margaret?"

"I know Margaret and this is not her, but two others. Come. You can help."

"I can't do anything. I'm afraid."

"But you have a sword, a very sharp sword."

"I've been bad. I've killed people, lots of people but I can't do it again. I can't." Tanya was on the verge of tears now and started wringing her hands in anguish. "Sylvia said I'm not to do it again. Sylvia said."

"Come, let us look at the poor fools."

They came to a cross roads in the endless corridor and met the 'poor fools'.

"Caren?" exclaimed Tanya. "Caren Hummingbird?"

"I can't stop her," wailed Caren, "she won't let me go."

The sound of many pounding feet came echoing down the corridor.

"It's coming," Caren shouted and started pulling violently on the silver cord that bound her securely to Denny, but to no avail as she was dragged relentlessly towards the approaching sound. "Help me," she screamed.

"Help her," said the woman in the mail coat, and she just stood there looking expectantly at Tanya. "I cannot do it. In here, I am not allowed."

Although she was far from being the expert she often claimed to be, the sword whispered out of it's wooden scabbard, and with one sweep, the gleaming blade cut through the silver rope, which burst into flames and was gone. Caren fell to the floor sobbing while Denny disappeared round the corner and was gone as well.

"Listen."

Caren and Tanya looked towards the crossroads, but all was silent.

"They have gone, and you must go too. You do not belong here, not yet."

"Not yet?" asked Caren, rubbing her sore wrist.

The woman nodded. "Everyone must pass this way one day, but your time has not yet arrived." She looked down at Caren and then at Tanya who still held the sword. "This sword," she said to Tanya, "it should not be yours."

Tanya nodded. "I know," she said quietly, "I'm not good enough with it. Never will be, I guess." She reluctantly held it out towards Caren. "Take it, it's yours."

Caren went wide eyed as she reached out to touch the silver hilt.

"This is a very special sword, Caren Hummingbird," said the woman. "When you find it, use it well. Now, go home."

Caren disappeared and the sword was gone as well. Tanya looked in surprise at her empty hands. "What?"

"Time for you to go also, but I think you may need some help, so, as I shall not be missed for some while, I shall show you the way. Come."

"Thankyou," said Tanya with obvious relief, then adding, "what's your name?"

"You can call me Joan."

"How much then?" asked Pansy Prayerbook. "Come on, if you're serious about it, then show us your money."

Flossie extracted a coin from her purse and examined it carefully before putting it back and producing another of less value. "Ten cents," she declared. "Bread and beer."

"Well I'll take your money," said Dotty. "Ten cents as well, but only red wine."

There were chuckles round the breakfast table at Toogood farm, as the betting got under way.

"I think you're all very cruel," said Marco. "But I agree with Pansy, and my ten is on her making a dash for the toilet to be sick."

Sali sniffed loudly, and when a guru sniffed, even one as young as Sali, everyone paid attention. "Bread, honey and warm milk."

"I've already bet on that," said Polly.

Sali sniffed again, and then continued, "in that case, chocolate. She'll want some hot chocolate and a biscuit as well."

The others looked at her in despair. Unless she was joking, then they had all just lost their money to her.

"Well I thought it was obvious. What with the notable lack of screaming, and she nearly slept right through, didn't she?"

The door opened and Caren came to join them at the table where they watched their chances of winning slowly disappear.

As she was taking a second mouthful of bread and honey, Caren looked round the circle of faces. "What?" she mumbled.

"Anything else you would like sweety?" asked Sali and cocked her head to one side.

Caren thought for a moment. "Not got any chocolate, have we? And a biscuit would be nice."

Sali smiled in triumph. "and let that be a lesson to you all," she said. "Shouldn't make silly wagers on another's misfortunes. It's wrong."

Later, when the others had started their days chores, Pansy found herself alone with Sali. "We aren't paying you," she said firmly. "You used the 'voice' on her and that's cheating. Sweety indeed, it's so obvious, and you shouldn't do it. Not with us, anyway."

Sali shrugged. "Win some, lose some," she said gaily, "and she's not one of us."

"But she will be. Even I can see that, and you don't do it to your own."

The 'or else' went unsaid, but Sali heard it, and filed it away for future reference.

A heavy foot dug itself into Denny's side again and she rolled over to relieve the pressure.

" _Come on girly, time to get up."_

"Go away," Denny mumbled. "I'm asleep."

" _By answering, you have proved indeed that you are, in fact, awake. So get up."_

Denny groaned again, but struggled to a sitting position. "Alright," she bellowed as she was kicked again. "I'm up." and she rubbed her weary eyes. "What time is it?"

" _Oh Lord above. What is wrong with you? It's TIME to get up."_ There was a brief pause, then, _"but you might want to keep your eyes closed."_

Denny's eyes flew wide open, then she shut them tight again, but after a second or two, she opened them slightly to see if she had been imagining it. The dancing figures were still there, but writhed as if they were smoke in a gentle breeze. Denny groaned, and lowering her gaze again, was surprised to find that she was naked.

"What's happening, why do I feel sick?" she whispered.

" _Nauseous little buggers aren't they?"_

Denny looked up at last and gasped in surprise. "A talking camel."

Death Bringer whirled round, his teeth bared, ready to fight. _"Camel? A bloody camel?"_ He spun round again, looking for the elusive and despised camel, then realised what Denny meant and looked at her with disdain. _"You dare to call me a camel? The ultimate insult. I am absolutely mortified to think that anyone could mistake me for a long necked sack of bones."_

"I'm sorry? What are you then?"

" _What am I? What am I?"_ and striking a dramatic pose, he answered, _"why, I am a horse. A very noble horse, a Lipizzaner no less, and I once carried the queen of Valencia into battle. Yes, impressed now, aren't you?"_

Denny frowned. "Why don't your lips move when you speak?"

" _Because I am special. I,"_ and here, there was a dramatic pause to match the pose, _"am from Barcelona."_

"The Ruby house," said Denny, remembering the wardog's stories.

" _You know about the Ruby house?"_

"Yes, did you know the wardogs?"

" _I have met them, yes. Disorganised rabble. Little better than camels."_

"What's your name?"

" _You can call me Death Bringer, for that is what I do best."_

Denny reached up and stroked the grey blaze, shaped like a crescent moon on the white horse's forehead. "I shall call you Moonbeam."

" _Oh, not you as well."_

"The door's open," said Cherry as they turned the corner in the corridor of their house, which in reality, was more like a cell block, and as they peered through the door, she groaned in dismay. "Gone. She's gone."

Izzy angrily pulled off her head scarf and threw it onto the empty bed. "Damn, damn, bloody damn. One of us should have been here with her. I told her, I bloody told miserable Miriam, but would she listen?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Cherry love, you're Ollie's pet just now, so you can go and ask when she died."

"Who's died?"

Turning round, Candy gave a little squeal when she found herself face to face with Tanya, and jumped backwards in surprise.

"Who's died?" Tanya asked again.

"Err, I think we made a mistake," said Izzy.

Cherry looked down at Tanya's feet and said, "tell me, how do you feel? Is your foot alright?"

Tanya looked down as well. "Itches like crazy," she said and limped into the room carrying a wooden bucket. "Been to empty the slop bucket. It was very nasty, most unhygienic. Somebody will have to do something about that, I think. What sort of place is this, everywhere's filthy, and when do we eat round here? I'm starving."

"Food later," said Izzy, and guided Tanya towards the bed. "Whenever they remember to bring it. Let's change that dressing on your foot."

"Oh, it's been done already. Joan checked it for me before we tidied up and went out for a walk in the woods."

The others looked at each other in surprise.

"Don't know any Joan," said Cherry, shaking her head.

"And nobody just wanders off for a walk." said Candy bitterly, "the furthest we go is to the sheds and back."

Izzy insisted on looking at Tanya's mistreated foot, and after her initial surprise, put the same bandage loosely back in place.

Where the two smallest toes had been, should still have been a raw open wound, but Izzy found that the wound was clean, and already covered over with new pink skin, which stood out starkly against the deep brown of Tanya's dirty foot.

Izzy knew that honey was good on wounds, but not that good, surely?

The delivery of cabbage soup and black bread from the communal kitchen was an anti climax, to say the least, and the news that they were actually prisoners in Tintown came as a shock, but Tanya told the others that obviously a mistake had been made and she would be sent home in the morning.

Several mornings later, Tanya was still 'in residence' but thankfully, not working underground, where the temperature was now a lot higher than expected. At first, she had been left locked in the cell, but when she had been seen returning from the nearby woods with a basket of wild vegetables, even though the door was still locked, Olivia gave orders for her to be left alone. She was not entirely sure that her new prisoner, who said she was called Florabel d'Alacant, should be enslaved and sent down the mine with the others. The priestesses predictions still weighed heavily on her mind and she decided to treat Florabel gently. Just in case.

And then there was the strange woman sometimes seen with her to consider. When Miriam and Olivia had first seen her, they had not been together, and each assumed that the other had assigned someone to watch over their new inmate. When they finally realised that neither of them knew her, it sent shivers down their spines. She was always seen in the distance, never nearby and never recognised. Very worrying.

When asked what her name was, Tanya had immediately used the name that Flossie Craken had used when she was still slightly deranged from her two years of self imposed isolation. Afterwards, she could think of no good reason why she had done this, but decided to remain 'Florabel' for the time being.

So, day by day, Tanya grew stronger and bolder, walking further each day and making new discoveries, but always returning before sunset, often with something useful or edible in her basket. Miriam had her watched by one of her trusted followers, but each day the report was basically the same. She walked in the woods and sat on the bank of the stream, throwing stones into the water. After two weeks she had gained permission from Olivia to start cooking for the prisoners, and when Miriam's initial protests had died down, even she occasionally sampled Tanya's home recipes. Perhaps she might not have been too keen if she had seen what sometimes went into the pan, as Tanya had spent a few weeks living in the wilds with Pansy, Flossie and Marco, when they thought that they were fugitives from Ma Nesbitt's rough justice, and had learnt that most things out there were edible.

Living rough had taught her other skills as well, and her time at the stream had been spent making flint knives, which she kept hidden in the hollow trunk of an ancient olive tree along with a wooden knife, two rusty arrow heads and a crude spear with a bone tip. But best of all, she had collected a few bits of old rope, and by teasing out the threads and plaiting them together again, had made a new rope about a metre long which she used as a belt. Her sacking skirt did not really need a belt but she needed an excuse for the rope, which was actually a sling. Nothing that moved was safe from her and her deadly sling, although she missed her target as often as she hit it, but each night, one or two small animals, or birds, or even rodents would end up on the prisoner's table. This, plus the wild onions and herbs she collected, made mealtimes very interesting, and cabbage soup was almost a thing of the past.

"We need more salt," said Candy, reaching for another piece of bread.

"And water," added Cherry.

Izzy nodded. "Lots of water, we're just about melting away down there."

"Laila was carried out again today," mumbled Candy, trying not to spit out any of her precious bread. "I'm sure they take it in turns to have a fainting fit."

"Idle, all of them," muttered Cherry, then spat a small bone onto her empty dish. She ran her tongue round her teeth while she poked at the bone. "Rock rabbit, you called it. What exactly does a 'rock rabbit' look like?"

Tanya paused before answering, as this was the tricky bit. "Well, it's a bit like a field rabbit but smaller. You know, teeth, fur, short legs. That sort of thing?"

The three priestesses looked at her expectantly.

She shrugged her shoulders and gave a deep sigh. "All right, so it's a rat," and folding her arms she waited for the reaction.

"Oh, that's alright then," said Izzy. "Thought you were trying to make us eat a lizard or something like that."

"So rats are OK then?"

"Yep. No problem, and your deep fried locusts were very tasty, but no lizards thankyou."

"Maisie's team have a cage full of them. Rats that is." added Candy.

Candy nodded in agreement. "Won't share with us though."

"Greedy bastards," added Cherry, "and idle."

"Just hope queen rat doesn't get to hear about it."

Tanya looked at Izzy, frowning and not understanding. "Queen rat?"

Izzy nodded briefly. "Maisie herself saw it again just before you came here."

"In the mine?" whispered Tanya.

Cherry answered her. "Tail this long, it has," and she held her hands an impossible distance apart.

Eventually, a big grin crept across Tanya's face. "Yeh, right," she said. "New girl in town, am I? Well I suppose you've got to try it on some time," and despite their arguments, she refused to be drawn on the subject of mythical giant rats.

Chapter 19

### Close Encounters

Even though the days stretched into weeks, and nobody arrived at Tintown to demand her release, Tanya did not let her disappointment show, and she allowed no tears to dampen her cheeks or spirit. The mysterious Joan, who had said she was French, stopped visiting her, saying that now Tanya was healed in mind as well as body, she should put her trust in the Lord Jesus and pray to Him as she had taught her, and all would be well.

So Tanya prayed to the Son instead of the Mother, but also made her own plans for deliverance, making a second cache of weapons and other essentials in case the first one, in the olive tree, was discovered.

Then, when the day of her intended escape finally arrived, all her carefully thought out plans were thrown into chaos.

During her foraging expeditions, she had found a broken bottle and was now on her way to the North end of Tintown, where she was going to use it to start a fire against the wall of an empty house. After several experiments in the woods, she had found that when the sun's rays were intensified by the bottle, a heap of dried grass and twigs would be ignited in a matter of minutes, by which time she could be back on the South side and ready to go when the alarm was sounded. Then there would be at least half an hour of madness while the townies fought the fire, and she could collect her secret stores and be across the stream and away to freedom again before she was missed.

As plans go, it was a bit hit and miss, and likely to end in failure, but the prisoners who came rushing out of the mine entrance, shouting and yelling incoherently, suddenly made 'plan A' irrelevant.

Deciding there was no need for the arson attack, she started to retrace her steps towards the South side and had nearly reached the last row of cottages when she realised at last that someone was calling to her.

It was Izzy. "Floss," she had shouted, then, "Flossie!" And finally, yelling at the top of her voice, "FLORABEL!"

Tanya swore to herself and turned round again. "What?" she demanded curtly.

Izzy came to her, red faced and panting. "We need you," she gasped. "There's been another accident."

"Nothing to do with me," Tanya replied quickly, "I don't do underground stuff."

Izzy looked at her with contempt. "You do now girl. Candy's gone into a new section and a door has closed behind her. We have to get her out."

Tanya swore again and kicked a stone across the road. "Why me?"

"Because Candy fed you, washed you and wiped your arse clean when we all thought you were dying. And because your hair is growing back, and I've heard tell of the 'curly headed hero' of Asher's farm." She smiled at Tanya's change of expression.

"Curly headed hero?" muttered Tanya.

"Well, actually it was curly headed weirdo in the version I heard, but I recognise you now." She chuckled at Tanya's pout. "I saw you there, you were wearing a blindfold."

Tanya looked at the ground, not committing herself.

"Can you really see in the dark?" And she paused before adding, "Florabel?"

At last, Tanya lifted her face to meet Izzy's gaze. "Were you one of the trumpeters?"

Izzy said she was, and Tanya sighed and said, "Tanya. Tanya Vine."

"Oh yes, I see. Homestead?"

Tanya nodded again. "But I'm not a witch, and you were playing out of tune."

Izzy laughed. "I don't blame you for not using your real name. They don't rate Homesteaders very highly around here. But it's dark in there, and we do need your talents. Oh and incidentally, I am never out of tune, it's always the others."

Tanya gave in to the inevitable, "come on then, let's get it over with," and she threw the piece of broken bottle away before they jogged back to the mine entrance.

The word 'mine' only really applied to the first fifty or so metres of rough hewn tunnel that they ran down, before actually entering the underground warehouse complex, and then they were in concrete and brick-lined corridors leading to large storage chambers, the first few of which were empty, or filled with rubble. Izzy led the way through the twists and turns of the route back to where she had last seen Candy, and the only illumination was from burning rush lights in brackets at each corner.

Tanya was sweating profusely already.

"Why is it so hot?" she asked. "It can't be the torches, can it?"

Izzy shook her head in the gloom, "not the lights. It wasn't like this before you came, then suddenly, heat wave."

They stopped at a junction and she gave a low whistle, four rising notes, and after a second or two, an answering whistle came back from the right, three falling notes.

"This way, Cherry's waiting for us."

They joined Cherry and looked in awe at the massive steel door that had closed so solidly, with Candy on the other side.

"We were all in there," explained Cherry, indicating the room opposite. "Suddenly, it got very bright, and the rat came in, looked at us, turned tail and ran out again."

"Screaming women running everywhere," added Izzy, "and Candy ran after it instead of out, like the others."

"I've found the handle, but can't shift it," and Cherry pointed to the left of the door with her iron bar.

Tanya grabbed the handle with her left hand, and reached out with her right towards the other side of the door.

"Can't reach it," she gasped.

Cherry had not noticed the second handle set into the opposite door frame, and Izzy was the first to react.

"Now what?" she asked.

Although both handles had come out of their recesses when pulled at the same time, the door still remained closed.

"Cherry?" said Tanya, "can you move the door now?"

She could. She did. The door slid to the right on an invisible suspension system and they were briefly dazzled by the bright lights beyond.

The floor, walls and ceiling were different to anything they had ever seen before. Not rock or concrete like the rest of the complex, but very smooth and a pale green colour.

The corridor curved away to left and right, and was illuminated by small globes which seemed to float near the ceiling.

It was beyond the priestess's comprehension, but Tanya had seen something similar to the light globes in Caren's time machine. They did not get time to speculate however, as the giant rat made another appearance, from their right, so they ran to the left, glancing fearfully over their shoulders as they went.

To their immense relief, the beast made no effort to catch up with them, and seemed to take a great interest in the open door, running up and down in front of it.

Relief was short lived however, for as they ran along the curving corridor, they saw Candy, pinned down to the floor by another enormous rat, which appeared to be gnawing at her back.

It looked up from it's grisly meal and snarled at them, showing yellow fangs dripping with blood. As they skidded to a halt, the rat behind them decided to join in the fun, creeping slowly towards them, having lost interest in the open doorway.

Tanya hurriedly took the sling from round her waist and fumbled in her pockets for a stone bullet.

"Keep that one off me," she shouted, indicating the one behind them, as she fitted the stone.

Cherry stepped forward and threw her iron bar which missed, but stopped the rat, although not in the manner she expected.

Behind her, Tanya only whirled the sling once, and as the stone flew through the air, she was already fitting a second into the sling's pouch. The first one missed, but the second hit the target. The rat leapt high into the air, twisting as it came down again, and ran away very quickly, squealing as it went.

Izzy dashed forward to Candy's side, but stared down at her companion, not understanding what she was seeing. Tanya and Cherry were soon beside her, but frowning at what they had already seen.

"There's something very odd happening here," said Tanya.

"That rat," said Cherry, "has eaten my wrecking bar. Eaten it!"

"Look," said Izzy, and they looked in amazement at Candy, who was beginning to recover consciousness. There were no bite marks on her anywhere, even though they had seen her being eaten alive.

"What the hells is going on," demanded Izzy.

"Hello, girls," said Candy, rubbing her forehead. "I think I tripped and knocked myself out."

Cherry urged them to move. "Come on, let's get out of here before they decide to come back. I don't want to argue with anything that can eat a wrecking bar."

They retraced their steps back to the surface and sank to the ground in the shade, thankful to be out and uninjured. Izzy waved the other prisoners away, saying that she would tell them about it later.

"That rat," said Tanya slowly, "the one on Candy's back..."

"Don't remind me," said Candy, suppressing a shudder.

Tanya smiled. "The one that wasn't actually eating her."

The others waited expectantly while she gathered her thoughts.

She nodded as the ideas formed in her mind at last. "It didn't really run away."

Izzy laughed. "Could have fooled me, disappeared bloody smartish when you put a stone in it's eye. Or wherever."

Tanya shook her head. "No, no, not what I mean. What I mean is, it didn't run, it sort of, I don't know, it went head over heels sort of thing. Like cartwheels."

"So, I saw it running for it's life, but you saw it doing cartwheels?"

Tanya nodded slowly. "Made me feel sick to watch it. It seemed to have too many legs. It didn't move right at all."

"So what we have then, is this," said Izzy as she lifted a finger. "One, a bloodthirsty rat that decided not to eat our Candy." Another finger raised. "Two, a rat that does cartwheels." A third finger. "Three, another rat that eats metal bars."

"Four," said Tanya. "A rat that smells a bit fishy."

They looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Mum always says that if it looks like a chicken, and smells like a chicken, then it probably is a chicken. But what we have here, is something that only looks like a rat. It smells wrong."

What Frankie Vine, Tanya's long suffering mother, actually said was, that if it looks like chicken but smells like fish, than you had better go to bed with a bucket, because you're going to be ill fairly soon after dinner. But Tanya thought that it was near enough to demonstrate the point she was trying to make.

"Therefore," added Cherry, "it's something else?"

"Her back was dry," stated Izzy suddenly.

"What?"

"Her back was dry," she repeated. "It's hot down there, and the sweat was dripping off my nose and down my back as well." She nodded wisely to herself. "It was licking the sweat off her back."

"Dirty little bugger," said Cherry in disgust, while Candy shuddered again.

Tanya licked her lips, and her eyes lit up. "Salt. Water or salt?"

Suddenly, she jumped to her feet. "We're going back in."

Understandably, the others were surprised.

"What?"

"Never!"

"You're crazy."

"No, listen," said Tanya.

"No, you listen," replied Cherry. "We can't go in there while it's still alive. It's up to Miriam now, let her earn her keep for a change."

Tanya was adamant. They were going rat hunting. "Close your eyes for me and I'll show you something"

"What's this?" demanded Izzy. "Homestead witchy stuff?"

Tanya scowled at her. "No," she snapped. "Just a game we play as kids. Get comfortable, close your eyes and empty your mind. Think of the wind, nothing but the wind in the trees."

After a moment, they did as she asked, and she started talking quietly.

"It's morning. The sun is in front of you, but it's cloudy so it's not too hot. You are in the campo, near an old farmhouse. There are lots of people talking, but you can't hear what they are saying, they're a long way off and the wind blows their words away."

She paused, and they just sat there, eyes still closed.

"You listen very carefully, but you still can't make out the words. Now, over there, behind you. You can hear cattle and there's grass under your feet."

She paused again to let the scene imbed itself in their thoughts.

"Someone is beating a drum, a very big drum and there's lots of cheering and whistling. Someone laughs, loud and long, people are getting louder, they're shouting now, getting angry and they start fighting. You can hear the clash of sword on shield. There are dogs howling, war dogs and you've got to do something."

Izzy was trembling, but kept her eyes closed even though she already knew what was coming. 'Not a witch,' she thought, 'but damn close to one.'

Tanya raised her voice a little. "You can help, you must help. What can you do?" She spoke louder now, "you have a trumpet. Lift it, blow it, make a noise. NOW."

Izzy resisted the urge to lift the imaginary trumpet to her lips, but the other two relived the moment at Asher's farm when their trumpets had raised the scarlet monster, and their hands moved in front of their faces in a strange dance.

"What can you smell," hissed Tanya, "tell me, what is it?" Their eyes flew open, expecting to see the awful tentacled beast that they had taken to Asher's farm.

Cherry just sat there, mouth wide open, panting heavily, staring wide eyed into the distance, but Candy jumped up, ran a few steps and was violently sick.

"Fish." stated Izzy. "But not quite like fish. Never wanted to see one of those again."

"Oh my god. That bastard was on my back," sobbed Candy. "It drinks blood, and it was on my back."

Cherry turned to Izzy. "We'll have to kill it."

"But how?" she replied. "The one we had in Central was thousands of years old."

Tanya shook her head. "No. We're not going to kill it. The one that died at Asher's farm was wearing armour, so I think that they are more than animals."

"What then?"

"We're going to give it a good talking to."

Chapter 20

### Meeting of minds

Ar-Shi Greyling Eight Legs had recovered his composure and stopped trembling, except for his lesser fingers, which still clasped convulsively when his thoughts wandered back to the intruders in the outer passage.

'How dare they invade my domain,' he thought. For almost three cycles he had done his best to avoid contact with them, and had even cleaned away the dead one they had left behind a short while ago. Then this. No gratitude for a job well done, but a missile which had broken the portable projector he had built from parts taken from the faulty power suit in the armoury. The resulting short circuit could have killed him and he was not in a good mood.

Perhaps tasting the fallen one in the outer passage had been a mistake, but the scent coming from it's body had been overpowering and he had not been able to resist checking that it really was salt.

Salt. The bringer of life for the females and heady stuff for lowly males such as himself, and it just leaked out of their skin? These creatures were seriously weird.

Well, weird or not, if they came back, he would have stern words with them. Nobody was allowed to take physical liberties with anyone on a work shift, not even the Great Snake Head Herself stooped that low. Punishment always came after work, and that could never happen now, because as he was the last crew member left, he was always on duty.

Millie and Stella watched the three ex-priestesses and Tanya from the relative safety of the huge sliding door.

"Daft as a bag of parrots," muttered Millie, who did not think much of their chances of coming out alive. "Going to fight a monster rat with two buckets of water and a bag of salt. Whatever next? Rotten tomatoes and cabbages, I shouldn't wonder."

The green corridor was not endless, but just seemed that way, until at last they emerged from the passage into an enormous cavern.

The lighting was dimmer, possibly because of the size of the place, or the lack of lighting globes, but they could still see well enough. Along the wall to their right, were stacks of boxes of a dull grey colour, and various four-wheeled carts, some loaded and some standing empty. In the centre, was the long, but bulky shape of a huge machine of some sort, standing on eight massive legs. It was black with dark green patches, and along the side, underneath and over the top for as far as they could see, were lumps, bumps and knobbly things, which were beyond their understanding.

Although they could not recognize the huge machine as a space cruiser, they had had a previous encounter with the small shape underneath the large one. The rat crouched there, watching them.

Cherry was in front and stopped abruptly when she spotted it. "Oh no," she said quietly. "I think I've changed my mind."

The buckets were placed a short distance apart and Tanya stirred half the salt into one, and then put the bag on the ground between the buckets, before all four of them backed up a couple of steps towards the passage.

The proximity alarm system warbled and Ar-Shi felt his anger rising when he saw that four of the manx creatures were inside the main hanger.

"They have no right," he said to himself, then whirled away from the control panel and headed for the lower exit ramp in a blur of spinning tentacles.

The worst fears of the ex-priestesses were realised when they saw the horribly familiar shape come down the ramp towards them.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Remain still when I speak, I am in charge here and..." there was a brief pause. "What have you done?" he exclaimed as he saw the wet floor beneath the leaky buckets. "Spotless. It was spotless before you came. Look what you have done to my beautiful floor."

"Oh, this was not a good idea," muttered Cherry as she glanced over her shoulder to check how far away the tunnel was. Then as the creature started hissing and growling as it approached them, her courage deserted her and she turned to run for safety.

"Going for more rubbish are you?" howled Ar-Shi and he changed direction to intercept the intruder. "This is the cleanest outfit in the fleet and it is going to stay that way."

Isabella was just too late to stop Cherry's mad dash for safety but as the growling monster whirled past her she grabbed a bucket and threw it with all her strength. As the salt water spread over it's body, the eight legged beast came to a halt and slowly crumpled into an untidy heap.

"You've killed it," said Tanya. "We were supposed to talk to it."

"Can't talk to them, already told you that," replied Isabella tartly, then looked up in surprise. "Listen, it's not dead."

Ar-Shi was in heaven. As the highly narcotic salt water seeped into his body through his skin, he became immediately intoxicated and started singing. It was not particularly in tune, but was recognisable to drunks the universe over as that particular species' version of 'I did It My Way'.

The rat below the huge spacecraft then surprised them by turning into a four wheeled flat trolley which came to rest by the inert body of it's former operator. Overcoming their qualms, they lifted the octopus-like creature onto the bed of the trolley, which then turned round and went up the ramp into the belly of the strange craft.

Tanya watched with mixed emotions as the weird creature was carried out of sight. "That didn't go exactly as I hoped," she said.

"Could have been worse," answered Cherry.

"Listen," said Candy, cocking her head to one side.

The court marshall of Ar-Shi Greyling Eight Legs (sole surviving crew member) was over before the trolley with his inert body on it reached the top of the ramp. Accused of being intoxicated while on an extended tour of duty, his electronic council had won him a commendation for bravery in defending the mother ship against four of the renegade manx. So instead of delivering him to the recycling plant for disposal, the trolley halted by an aid station where the auto medic made him instantly sober. The sentient cruiser then put into action 'plan b'.

"I can't hear anything," said Tanya.

"What does 'salva nos' mean," asked Candy with a frown.

Isabella was nearest to the huge machine and as her foot touched the ramp, the whispering voices in her head grew louder. Candy and Cherry turned their heads in unison to stare upwards for a moment, then they too started to climb the slope into the machine, making no sign of hearing Tanya calling to them.

"What are you doing," she shouted. "Izzy, come down." Then louder still. "IZZY, COME BACK"

Isabella, Candy and Cherry were no longer in control of their bodies, as the super brain of the sentient alien space craft took control and drew them ever upwards.

Ar-Shi guided the docile manx creatures one at a time into the scanner bay where they were examined at molecular level and had their brain wave patterns assessed for future usefulness.

"Guider, why only three of them," asked Ar-Shi.

The answer came from the nearest work station. "These three are type 6C with a variant towards the Red shift. One suspects that the other is different," replied the ship's sentience interface. "Somehow resistant to the pulses."

"Beyond my understanding or responsibility."

"Quite so," continued the ship. "But you may have to do further training."

Ar-Shi winced. He was going to SEA again. Subliminal Education and Advancement always gave him a raging headache. He had been absorbed into the programme four times already, from basic engineering to weapons deployment, and could now (theoretically) command the ship. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go, especially since that damned Horner Chameleon had made it's presence known a short while ago. And anyway, he was happiest when keeping the hanger clean and tidy.

The three creatures were showing signs of recovery now so he raced to the entry ramp where the fourth one still waited, sitting on the hanger floor.

"Not long now," he called down to her. "They will be with you soon."

Tanya rolled away and jumped to her feet ready to run, but the growling beast had gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Isabella opened her eyes slowly and froze in terror at the sight of her nemesis.

"Zorree."

Isabella just stared, as did the others as they too came awake.

"Thiz one zorree," repeated Ar-Shi, slowly and with great difficulty. "No do taste more."

Tanya was on the verge of leaving for help when Candy came down to her.

"Come and join us," she urged. "The beast isn't dead and it has shown us some really interesting things."

Tanya was naturally sceptical, "what about all that 'kill the blood sucking monster' stuff you were all talking about earlier?"

Candy was adamant. "This one is different," she continued. "It can talk, not very well, but it's got an invisible friend who knows Spanglish."

Tanya was still wary but her curiosity eventually got the better of her with Candy's final piece of news.

"It showed us some moving pictures of something that happened about a year ago. A dead machine and a screaming woman just appeared inside, out of nowhere, and Archie had to put her to sleep. Now he wants our help to bring her back again."

They climbed the ramp together and Isabella persuaded Tanya to sit in the reclining scanner chair while the video they had seen was replayed to her.

Tanya's eyes widened as she recognized the 'screaming woman' but did not have time to think logically about it as 'Guider' started giving Ar-Shi instructions, in the Deccan language.

"Transport area now. All of them."

Ar-Shi obeyed instantly at the tone of command but still asked, "why?"

"As suspected, this one is different," Guider replied. "This one has received Horner training."

"Spies?" whispered Ar-Shi as he headed towards transport.

Ar-Shi and Guider eventually managed to get the four confused women standing on the platform and without any hesitation, the sender plate was activated.

"Where have you sent them?"

"Nine sections sunward," replied Guider. "There is a group of their kind in the target area."

"Shame that they had to go so soon. I was looking forward to talking to them."

Jean Collier's main trade rival, Maria Carmen Torres, was suffering with a summer cold and climbing the short rise towards Altmoor was making her gasp for breath. She urged the pair of oxen on, silently cursing her four travelling companions for not offering to help. At the sudden appearance of four wildly gyrating women in front of them, the pair of weary oxen suddenly found a new burst of energy and swung violently to the left. Maria's short scream of fright made her companions turn round, and they were shocked to see her knocked from her feet to fall under the wagon wheel, while four strangers apparently danced on the trail in glee.

Since leaving Ibis in disgrace, Madelaine Toogood had moved to Central, finding casual employment on the farmsteads and in Paulines Pleasure Parlour. She was relatively happy now, but the way she had been persuaded to sell Toogood farm made her occasionally seethe with anger.

When she turned round to see what the fuss was about, she was just in time to see Maria die under the iron bound cart wheel. she raised a hand to shade her eyes against the sun's glare.

"I know that one," she shouted. "She's a bloody witch, from Homestead."

Tanya and her companions fell to their knees and started vomiting, and Maddy was first to react.

"Get the bastards, now," she roared and running swiftly back to the wagon, kicked Tanya as hard as she could. She released a year's worth of pent up aggression in the assault on the 'witches' and the four wretched women were soon bound securely and thrown, non too gently, into the back of the wagon.

Chapter 21

### Trial and terror

It took Consuela less than ten minutes to drag the whole sorry story out of Conti, with Laila Delgado only having to resort to using the small cane on her naked back just once to make her talkative.

Sonia was kept waiting outside the leader's residence for an hour, while Consuela and Sybil considered the implications of what they had heard.

"Can we afford a confrontation with Ibis?" asked Sybil.

"With Ibis, yes," replied Consuela. "Chicken hearts, all of them, they would rather run uphill all day than face us for five minutes. But Homestead and that Hummingbird girl as well? I don't want that. Not yet anyway."

"So we may have to buy them off."

The thought of paying anyone was anathema to Lakeside's leader, and she scowled at the thought. Parting with actual money was totally against her principles.

"Paying no one if I can help it." She turned to Laila, "bring Sonia in."

She had been told nothing, but had overheard the whispers between people passing through the building, and had heard Conti's occasional squeals of pain or terror, so was apprehensive about being summoned to appear before Consuela.

"What would you like to tell me about Altmore," demanded Consuela.

Sonia swallowed nervously and her eyes flickered between her leader and Sybil, who was smiling in a very disconcerting way.

"I don't understand," she hesitantly replied.

"Then here's an easier question." Consuela leant forward in her chair. "Tell me why Homestead and Ibis should be coming here with a fucking army!" As she spoke the final word, she rose from the chair and slapped Sonia's face as hard as she could, sending her staggering back. Sonia was shocked. Consuela never swore or lost her temper, at least not with her own kin, and she stood there open mouthed, her brain trying to catch up with events and her eyes filling with tears.

Consuela looked to Laila for confirmation, "does she have it with her?"

Laila nodded briefly.

"Conti tells me that you have some new jewellery. Show me." she said, holding out one hand, palm upwards.

She knew then that her secret was out, but just stood there holding her cheek, a terrified expression on her face, so Laila tore open her shirt and removed the necklace. She knew what it was made of and suppressed a shudder as she handed it to Consuela.

"Tell me how you got this, keepsake."

Sonia fell to her knees and cried out in anguish. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she wailed over and over.

Consuela held up the necklace and examined it with a disgusted expression. "You murder a town prima and make an ornament of her hair and toes, and all you can say is sorry?"

Her voice had been getting steadily louder and everyone within earshot stood in silence, awestruck by the situation.

"Because of you," she screamed, "we seem to be at war with Homestead again."

In the adjoining room, Walter had been listening with growing unease, and although they were speaking mostly in Spanish, he knew enough to understand what was happening. At Consuela's words he gave a deep sigh of regret and decided it was time to leave.

"Because of you and your petty hatred, we have the prospect of meeting those bloody wardogs again." She stopped her verbal assault and took some deep breaths to regain her composure before continuing. "When they come," she said quietly. "You will have the honour of being in the front line to greet them."

Sonia remembered the awesome sight of the seven dog soldiers that had routed her section at Asher's farm, and started sobbing again.

"If you're lucky, and find me in a good mood, then you shall at least have a spear and shield, but if not, then you go naked, as dog bait to get them in front of the cannon. Put her in chains and keep her safe. I shall talk to her again."

It was some time later that Sybil got the chance to talk to Consuela privately.

"At the moment, we must not have a confrontation of this scale," she stated simply, and Consuela nodded her agreement.

"I know. Nobody will back us over this." She glanced again at the necklace of finely plaited hair with six small polished and intricately carved bones threaded on it, lying on the table. "Has the fire died down yet?"

"Almost," Sybil replied.

Consuela resigned herself to the only possible course of action. "Find a large pot and get," here she paused a moment, "Rosaline isn't it? In the South lodge?"

Sybil nodded.

"Go to her yourself and make sure that she collects every bone that is left and puts them in the pot. We will send it to Ibis with that," and she waved to indicate the necklace, "along with our humble apologies and negotiate a blood price. Lady knows how much that will cost."

Sybil picked up the grisly trophy and went to find a large enough jar.

"ANA," yelled Consuela, and Ana came scurrying into the room.

"Go and find Walter. Tell him I need him here with his helmet. I have to talk to Gloria at Altmore, pronto."

Ana ran the kilometre to Walter's house by the lake shore and seeing the door open went straight inside, then stood there for a minute deep in thought as she surveyed the empty cupboards where Walter's personal gear should have been.

"Bastard." She spat out the one word then left the house and started running back again.

At the isolated building now called 'the arsenal', Walter dropped the lock and chain he had forced from it's staples and gently opened the door. Working in the dark, and counting steps from memory, he sidled round the bulk of the great cannon and felt his way into the inner room. The smell warned anyone to be careful, as this was where the nine barrels of black powder they had produced so far was stored. He smiled grimly as he remembered the advice he had given, and Consuela had ignored. 'Don't keep it all in one place,' he had told her. Now, as he selected and broke open a small wooden barrel, he was glad she had overruled him. He laid a thick trail of powder from the barrels back to the door and retreated to the outer room. 'Now for the tricky bit', he thought and squatting down, took out his olive-wood tinderbox, ironically enough, a present from Consuela, and eventually managed to set light to a bunch of dried grass he had brought in with him. He laid the grass on the powder trail and became alarmed at how fast it started burning.

"Shit," he muttered, and hurrying round the cannon, ran away from the building as fast as he could.

"Where are you going," someone yelled behind him.

"Come on," he yelled back. "Run with me."

Nobody in Lakeside could refuse an invitation like that and somebody followed him closely in his flight away from the coming explosion.

It started quite slowly, and as the night grew suddenly brighter, Walter turned and grabbed the woman chasing him, then threw her to the ground and lay on top of her.

"Bloody hell, Walter," she gasped as his full weight bore down on her.

"Maria?"

The dull roar of the slow explosion grew steadily louder as more barrels gave in to the flames, and black oily smoke billowed into the air. The rain of wood and masonry mostly fell short of where they lay and then ceased altogether.

Maria opened her eyes again as the sound of falling debris petered out. "Walter Southgate, what have you done?" She rapped her knuckles on his plastic chest armour. "And what in heaven's name are you wearing? This is very uncomfortable."

He got to his feet and helped her up. "You sound just like my mother."

"She'll kill you. Consuela, not your mother."

"Got to catch me first love, and I'm not staying around." He started walking away and she ran to catch up and grabbed him by the arm, spinning him round.

"Walter, are you mad? You can't just do that," and she waved towards the burning building, "and then wander off as if nothing had happened. Can you?"

He shook off her restraining hand. "Do you know what she's planning?" and he carried on without waiting for a reply. "She's taking you to war with Homestead again, and no doubt she will expect me to stand with her against Anton, Simon and possibly the rest of my old crew." He made a chopping motion with one hand, "no way. Absolutely no fucking way, sorry for swearing. If she wants to make war, then she does so without me, and without her precious cannon."

"But Walter."

"No arguments, Maria. I'm beginning to like it here, but for every reason there is for me to stay, there's a bigger one telling me to go."

Maria tried again. "But what about Zoe and Chloe? Don't you want to see your daughters again?"

Walter looked down and pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. "I was never a good father, even in the good old days. Always somewhere else when I was needed at home. And now? I'm only here on a two year contract. That's right," he snarled. "Margaret sold me like a piece of meat, and when your dear cousin says 'where's Walter?' then you can tell her that our contract is null and void, and she has to go to the market place again. Sorry, but it's goodbye."

He turned on his heel and left without a backward glance, went past his house and collected his back-pack from the tree where he had hung it. He knew the path round the lake like the back of his hand, and started jogging Northwards.

Maria turned and ran back to tell Consuela the bad news, but she was too late.

"It's gone, all of it. Cupboard's absolutely bare. Helmet, funny green jacket and pants and all his stuff, everything." Ana made sure that she was out of reach when she told Consuela that Walter had disappeared, but the tremendous explosion distracted everyone so Ana was safe for the time being, and she managed to sneak away in the confusion.

Soon after, Maria burst into the leader's almost deserted residence.

"He's gone," she blurted out, "gone crazy as well I think."

Consuela gave a deep sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. "Tell me the worst."

"He set fire to the powder store and I couldn't stop him from leaving." Maria swallowed nervously. Giving bad news to Lakeside's leader was never easy. "He said that you'll have to go to war without him and the cannon, and he's not coming back."

"No! I need him."

Maria and Consuela flinched as Sybil screeched out the words, and they looked at her in surprise.

"Sybil?" said Consuela softly, but the bitch queen, as Walter had named her, turned and fled, sobbing as she went.

"Am I surrounded by idiots," Consuela cried out loudly. "Whatever Walter heard, he must have heard wrong." she stood up and paced the room, wringing her hands. "It's bad enough that we are having to pay blood money for the wrong that moron, Sonia has done, but now everyone goes crazy on me."

"So we aren't getting ready for war then?" said Maria slowly.

Consuela shook her head. "Much as I would like to, no, we cannot."

Maria nodded her head, then said, "I've never let you down, have I? Even though I haven't got dark hair."

Consuela looked up sharply at the tone of Maria's voice, and frowned. "No," she said, "I don't think so."

"Then trust me one more time. I'm going North after him, he's probably going round the top end of the lake and then South. Tell Sophie to come and find me. Only her though, we don't want to scare him off, do we?"

"Through the woods, in the night and on his own?" Consuela frowned and shook her head slightly. "Mad bastard. Can you do it?"

Maria shrugged, then nodded. "Probably, if I'm careful."

"Then god speed and may good fortune be with you. We need him, all of us. Even Sybil, it would seem."

Maria smiled at the last remark and left to go in search of Walter before he came to grief in the unforgiving woods that he thought he knew.

"ANA," yelled Consuela, and told the hapless skivvy to find Sophie.

Chapter 22

### Bare Essentials

To start with, Walter jogged easily enough round the lake by the light of the stars and the fire still raging in Lakeside, but was soon forced to use his helmet's starfield magnifier and then, as the trees grew denser overhead, he switched on the night vision camera. Just one short hour later, he stumbled to a halt as the battery warning light briefly came on and his helmet underwent total shutdown.

He swore gently under his breath as he wound the visor back into it's slot.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, but realised that he was going nowhere, and giving in to the inevitable, groped his way around until he found a tree and squatted with his back against the reassuring solidity of the trunk.

'I'm only resting,' he told himself, eyes flickering left and right, trying to identify the source of the night's noises. 'Not going to close my eyes, not going to sleep, and when the moon rises I'll be on my way again.'

Three long kilometres to the North, Maria squirmed as she tried to get comfortable in the branches of a tree, and realised that she would get no sleep this night. She had no rope with which to secure herself, and suddenly regretted her hasty preparations for this mad adventure. She had not even brought the bare essentials for a night in the forest. The local wildlife went suddenly and ominously quiet, and she held her breath for long moments listening to the approach of many feet. Or paws?

Her heart started to race as her first thought was, 'wolves?' Then she almost laughed with relief as she saw the indistinct white shapes below her. Sheep!

Then the mad adventure got just a little bit madder, as the sheep looked up at her, and strange voices drifted up to her precarious perch.

Unable to see anything more than general shapes, she strained to hear what was being said, but only odd words were clear.

"... we must...... stay...... later"

"Why me?" At least that was clear.

"... with you...... trust......... you as well."

"Damn!"

"...... keep safe..."

The white shapes swirled before her tired eyes and most of the sheep went Southward, with only about four staying below her sanctuary.

"Well?" said a weary voice as someone slapped a heavy hand against the tree trunk.

"Well what?" answered Maria warily.

"Well at least it speaks," said another voice.

"Shush, leave this to me."

"Why you? Why not me?"

There was a great sigh before the reply. "Because I am older than you and that gives me seniority, and She said so."

"Not right, not one of us."

"I am one of you, She said so. And can you put the fear of god into wolves? No I thought not."

There was more muttering from below, but no more serious argument.

"Well? Are you coming down or not?"

Maria frowned and squinted into the darkness, trying to see the invisible speakers. "Why should I? I don't know who you are."

"Just think of me as a good friend."

"Why should I trust someone I can't see? Why can't I see you?"

There was a brief pause, then, "I'm wearing a black coat."

More sniggering from below.

"Are they laughing? Can sheep actually laugh?"

"Ha ha ha, she thinks you're sheep. Baa!"

"Not funny."

"Not funny at all," added another quavering voice.

"Hush now. Oh come on girl, we can't look after both of you, you're too far apart."

"What do you mean?"

"You need our help. You here, him there, and the forest at night is no place for honest folk."

"No place."

"But I'm safe up a tree, aren't I? Mother always said climb a tree at night."

"If you don't want to come down, then do one thing for me before we go. Raise your left hand, now reach out and hold on to the big branch to your side. That's right, that one."

The sniggering from below got a little louder.

"Now answer me this. Would you like to join us down here, or would you rather stay up there all night, holding on to a tree snake?"

Now your average snake is a creature of mornings and evenings, resting by day and night to take shelter from the extremes of heat and cold. This one, feeling the warmth from Maria's hand, moved slightly as it gripped the branch tighter and raised it's head, ready to defend it's life and honour.

She was faster coming down than going up. Much faster, and her squeals of fright could be heard the length and breadth of the forest, and only stopped when she landed on the black shape below, knocking the breath from both of them.

"Well that's buggered it," said the shepherd as she pushed Maria off and climbed back to her feet. "Everything in the woods with sharp ears and pointy teeth is on it's way here now. Come on you lot, it would be better if we could be far away and very soon."

"I don't do snakes," mumbled Maria and shuddered at the thought of being that close to a snake.

"Do you do running? Then get after them quickly," and she found herself following the blurry shapes through the trees.

She staggered along in the dark, occasionally tripping over tree roots and was twice dragged to the ground and made to crouch in silence for no apparent reason. When asking why they had stopped, the whispered reply was very brief. "Dogs." But she could neither see nor hear anything to be alarmed about.

Eventually they reached the others who had gone on ahead, and Maria found herself being eased into a sitting position against a tree trunk. She briefly wondered if she had done the right thing, but then she realised that she was sitting next to Walter who was apparently fast asleep.

She tried to wake him, but the shepherd, who was still just a black shape in the black night, said that 'She' had put him to sleep because 'his head was not right', and no other explanation was offered, not even who 'She' was.

There was no alternative but to accept the situation, so she sat there quietly, listening to the night sounds and the infrequent mutterings from someone in their strange party.

"Moon will be up soon."

Maria looked towards the East and sure enough, there was a lightening of the sky, and the rim of the mountains was just visible.

"Thank the heavens for that," she replied.

"Don't be too grateful too soon little one," said the shepherd. "They'll come with the moon, and some of us may be sorry for it."

Maria frowned. "Who's coming?"

"Wolves," was the whispered reply.

Maria closed her eyes and shuddered. "Should we light a fire? I've got a flint."

There was a chuckle from beside her. "No good against these wolves. Fire doesn't bother them, and we would lose our night sight. Better to fight in the dark."

"Fight? We're going to fight them? I've only got my little crossbow, left everything else at home in the rush to chase after him. How are we going to fight?"

The chuckle became deep and throaty. "Tooth and claw little one, tooth and claw."

The moon finally rose over the far mountain and a pale beam lit up the speaker, giving Maria her first real glimpse of her rescuer.

She gasped as she found herself gazing into the unwavering eyes of a black bear, and struggled to get to her feet but a great paw held her firmly in her place.

The goats surrounding them looked on in undisguised amusement as she finally gave in and collapsed sobbing against the tree trunk.

"Pathetic," bleated one of them, the nearest. "What use saving a human?"

The bear calmly answered back, "because She wants it so."

There was no reply, but the goats nodded wisely, or so it seemed to a thoroughly confused Maria.

"How can you talk, how can they talk, it's not possible," she stammered out.

The bear sighed and lifted it's mighty paw from Maria's shoulder. "It's a long story," she said, "and we don't have time for it. But the short version is, that I am a good spirit trapped in a bear's body. And the sooner I can get my own body back, the better."

There was snuffly cough behind her. "Oh yes, and this is my mate, I think. Don't get too close to him, he doesn't like humans very much. And you can call me Cilla, by the way."

Maria leant forward and saw an even bigger bear in the shadows.

"He seems to be tagging along for a bit of excitement, doesn't like wolves either. Doesn't seem to like anything much at all really. Except me, unfortunately."

Maria goggled at the bears. "Hello mister bear, what's your name?" she muttered, causing the goats to laugh quietly. "They do laugh. Why are they laughing?"

Cilla chuckled gently at her confusion. "He doesn't have a name that you could pronounce, he is a creature of the wild, just like this one I inhabit will be once more, when I can move on again."

Hundreds of questions spun round in Maria's mind, but they all remained unasked, as the bears both lumbered to their feet, sniffing the night breeze.

"Load your toy bow, little one. They're coming," said Cilla quietly, and amid the goats rose an enormous white shape. Maria gasped her surprise as she gazed upon the biggest goat she had ever seen.

The goat's eyes locked onto hers and the panic she had felt since the snake incident disappeared. Although the goat spoke only one word, a feeling of utter calm and confidence filled her, and she felt as though she was invincible.

"Time."

Walter yawned mightily and stretched. The yawn stopped suddenly and his eyes opened wide as he remembered where he was.

He stared in surprise at the sight of Maria crouched in front of him, pointing a loaded twinbow in his direction.

"Maria?" His voice was a whisper.

"Don't move," she snarled, raising the weapon slowly.

"Now don't do anything hasty."

"Don't fucking move. You'll put me off."

He stared in horror as her knuckles whitened and he realised that he was looking down the length of two crossbow bolts that were about to be released.

"Lean your head to the right. Slowly."

He grimaced and did as he was told, then the snap of the trigger and thud of a bolt burying itself into the tree trunk beside his head made him dive forward.

Coming out of the forward roll, he managed to kick the bow out of her hands, but then winced as the spinning bow released the second bolt, which flew off his helmet and disappeared into the trees.

Maria was on her feet first and she punched his head as hard as she could.

"You stupid, stupid brainless fool."

"What?" He stood there, rubbing his reddening ear, and looking at her properly for the first time.

"What's happened to you?" he asked lamely, looking her up and down. "You're a mess."

Her scream started quietly but quickly built to a hideous crescendo. "aaaaaaaaargh!!!"

She bent down and picked up a thick branch, causing him to back up a couple of steps.

"All night," she said quietly, in direct contrast to her ear splitting scream. "All night long, I have stood here, with only this branch and my bow, fighting to keep you safe while you slept like you had no cares in the world."

"Err..."

"I have been awake all night. I have been to hell and back. I have kept you from being eaten alive. I keep you from certain death this morning, and all you can say is, 'you're a mess'. Well let me tell you mister ungrateful, you owe me, you are probably going to be in debt to me for a long, long time. And your first act of repayment is to find that bolt you just wasted. Then you can dig the other one out of the tree. Right?"

Walter shrugged, not understanding. "Sorry?"

"Don't be sorry, be careful. Millipedes are poisonous."

She deliberately turned her back on him and walked slowly away, rubbing her bruised hand.

Frowning, he glanced back towards the tree, then his jaw dropped and his eyes flew wide open as he watched the millipede writhing in it's death throes, transfixed by the crossbow bolt in the tree.

Sophie emerged from the trees a short while later, and smiled with relief at seeing her friend safe. "Hi Ruby," she called out gaily. "Is he here?"

Maria looked up and her temper started to creep towards boiling point again. She hated the name, which was a reference to her blonde hair. Rubia in Spanish.

"Is he here?" she mimicked. "Is he here?"

Sophie frowned, but carried on, "did you hear it? It sounded like big trouble somewhere. I felt so guilty, you out here, up a tree and me safe inside the lodge."

"The lodge? You've been at the old farmhouse all night?"

Sophie nodded.

Maria's voice hardened. "Safe and warm I hope."

Sophie agreed, with a long drawn out, "yeees." Then she noticed Maria's dishevelled state, torn trousers, dirty face and hands, and wild hair.

"You're a mess," she stated boldly. "What have you been doing?"

"Doing? Doing? What haven't I been doing. Let me tell you about my wonderful night in the open air shall I?" Not waiting for a reply, she launched into a rant which grew steadily louder.

"It started with a bang, when Walter _'let's go for a run'_ Southgate tried to blow us both up but luckily for me, he knocked me down and jumped on top of me."

"Yes, I heard."

"Then I ran after him through the very dark, very scary woods until I couldn't see, so I decided to climb a tree."

"Very sensible."

"No! I found myself cuddling a snake, I hate snakes, so I jumped out of the tree."

"And so would I."

"And landed on a bloody great bear."

Sophie just looked at her in amazement.

"Then I ran through the woods again, holding on to a goat's tail, and that goat was not happy, believe you me."

Sophie stood there, gaping in disbelief.

"Such language, where do goats learn to swear like that? Then I met another bear, bigger than the first, all teeth, claws and stink. God knows what it had been doing but it reeked. Then She stood and said it was time, and it started."

She shuddered at the memory.

"Who's she?" asked Sophie in bewilderment.

"Don't know. Forest demon? A god maybe, but she was on our side, and she's big."

"Your side. You, Walter and?"

"Walter? Walter? Forget him, he slept through the whole thing, the ungrateful bastard."

"What?"

"There was me, Her, the two bears and about twenty Cree. They were never still so I couldn't count them properly."

"Slow down, you're losing me. What are Cree?" Sophie asked, shaking her head.

"The goats, they call themselves the Cree. Don't ask me why, it's just a name, and we stood there, tooth and claw. And horn I guess, waiting for the wolves to come."

Her voice trailed away and there was brief silence until Walter's voice came to them. "Found it honey."

"Don't honey me Walter Southgate, now dig out the other one. And be careful, it may be dead but it's still poisonous."

"Poisonous?" queried Sophie.

"Just another mad part of a mad story." She turned her attention back to Sophie. "While you were safe and sound, hiding in a proper building, with proper doors and proper windows, I fought off a fucking wolf pack with a fucking club and a twinbow."

"Maria." whispered Sophie softly. "Maria darling."

Maria ignored her, her eyes glazing over, reliving the night. "We did well, but they were clever, drawing us away from Walter. But then the ghost came. She just stood there, short black hair and shiny chain mail. Then she pointed, and when I looked up, there was a wolf in the tree above Walter. Yes, I know. Wolves can't climb trees, but this one did. So I lifted my little bow and shot it. It fell off the branch and ran away howling like a demon."

Sophie waited, but there was silence. "Then?" she prompted.

"Then it was over, and we counted the cost of protecting Mr. Sleepyhead. One dead goat, a few others with scratches and a bear with a big hole in it's shoulder."

She shook her head and was close to tears. "This morning, when it was barely daylight, I put a dozen stitches in a wild creature with the biggest teeth I have ever seen, and I promised to take them out again in a couple of weeks."

She shuddered again. "Then, then, when he finally woke up, I shot a giant millipede off his shoulder, and did he say thankyou? No, he kicked me. But do you know the worst of it? When I was sewing up Cilla's shoulder, she stuck her nose between my legs, sniffed my unmentionables and told me I'm pregnant."

"Oh love, that's great news."

"No it's not. It's not fair. We only did it twice. Twice is never enough, and now I'll get all big and lumpy and he will never look at me again."

"Good here, isn't it?"

Walter poked the fire under the pot of water again and looked up, but not directly at Sophie as he replied, "I guess."

Sophie sighed and tried again. "Peaceful, clean water and a good roof. All it wants is a proper fence to keep the beasties out and it could be lived in again."

Walter grunted noncommitedly. He was having a bad day, and he knew that the tea he was trying to make would be a big disappointment as well.

"Speaking of beasties, here she comes."

Walter looked round. "Don't be cruel," he said gently. "You've no right."

Ana strolled into the farmyard carrying a bowl filled with small red fruits.

Her appearance had surprised them all. She had ridden into the yard on a black and white ox borrowed from Sybil's yard, and her arrival had been preceded by half a dozen small, wiry and very energetic dogs. She had been sent, she said, by Cousin Consuela, to keep them out of mischief.

After a brief but pointless shouting match, Maria left them and stormed off upstairs for a lie down, because as she pointed out, she had been up all night.

The tea, as predicted, was awful, and they decided to eat their meagre rations later when Maria woke up again. Meanwhile, Ana carefully peeled her 'mock cherries', and slowly and delicately nibbled the sweet red flesh. In direct contrast to her eating habits, she then spat the large seeds into the fire, rarely missing her target.

Maria emerged from the house at last and Sophie shared out the bread and cheese, while Ana carefully poured them each a cup of wine which she had brought with her, making sure that they did not see the label on the bottle. It was Bridget's special love potion, Los Angeles, and she had been serving it to the women who stayed with Walter, to make sure that they were relaxed about being alone with him. When talking to the women in Altmore, she found out that Ricky's attentions were not always welcome, especially to the women from Central, so she used the wine to 'smooth things over'. She had stopped giving it to Walter though, as it seemed to have no effect on him.

Ana shared out her remaining fruit and they sat, laughing at Walter's misfortune as he bit into the bitter seed. He made a great show of not liking what he tasted. At least they were laughing together again, even if it was at his expense.

"I've come to help you make your mind up," said Ana suddenly.

"Who, me?" asked Walter.

"All of you."

The girls looked at each other, wondering what was coming.

"What do you mean," said Sophie.

"Well, number one, wherever Walter goes, I go." stated Ana boldly.

"Like hell you do," snarled Maria. "You're a nobody, and you can sod off back to Lakeside as soon as you like."

"Wrong!" Said Ana calmly. "Out here, he needs looking after, and pretty soon, you will as well."

The intended retort died on Maria's lips as she realised what she meant.

Ana waited a second then continued. "You can do what you like, _Ruby,_ but I'll keep him safe, and you as well if you decide to stay with us, and he will finish teaching me how to do back massage properly."

Maria bridled at the use of her nickname, but Ana kept going.

"We sorted out Sybil's bad back but there's much more he can teach me, so like I said, find Walter and you find me."

Maria looked at Walter. "Is this true?"

Walter agreed that he had manipulated Sybil's back, with Ana's help, probably curing her of a long standing injury, and they had also been partly successful with Sonia's dodgy leg.

"Number two," and she addressed Walter this time. "There will definitely be no war with anybody, especially if you go back to town."

"I'm not going to be very popular for a while though, am I?" He said quietly. "And how can you be certain about this 'no war' statement."

Ana smiled as she replied. "Because, my beautiful man, you have been either blessed or cursed. It depends on your outlook, I guess."

"Blessed or cursed?" asked Sophie. "What on earth does that mean?"

Ana smiled and licked her lips before answering. "According to the girls in Altmore, what is happening in Lakeside should not be physically possibly," she started. "You see, for some reason, everybody, and I mean absolutely everybody, who runs the lake with Walter gets a big belly, and if everybody is pregnant, then who is left to carry arms?"

Sophie and Maria looked open mouthed at each other. Pregnant? Everybody? Sophie suddenly clasped one hand to her abdomen and a broad smile crept across her face, and none of them noticed Walter's worried frown as he tried to figure out if Sybil was still of child bearing age.

Walter eventually declared his intention to return to face Cousin Consuela, but only after he had been to see Ricky at Altmore. A panel on his helmet had been damaged by the stray bolt he had accidentally let loose that morning and he was hoping that Ricky could patch it up for him.

Ana started to collect firewood to replace what they had used, as it was customary to leave the house ready for the next traveller to move into for the night, and Walter was surprised to learn that the road to Altmore was just beyond the trees, and they were only about four hours walk directly to the South of Lakeside.

The next surprise was that he suddenly recognised the smell of the burnt seeds from the fruit that Ana had collected.

As a student, he had often used a café where they roasted their own coffee beans, and once you had savoured that singular aroma, you never forgot it. Coffee?

It was, and he and the girls collected several more bowls of the ripe fruit, to take to Altmore where he hoped to sell it to Ricky, who was Italian, and had complained about the lack of coffee on several occasions.

Then the taste of the Los Angeles wine, coupled with the mention of Altmore made Maria gasp in sudden realisation. "I know who it was now," she said, wide eyed.

Sophie, Walter and Ana looked at her, not understanding.

"The ghost. Last night. She was at Altmore, in the church. She spoke to you."

"The crazy woman," said Sophie quietly.

Walter opened his mouth but quickly shut it again, remembering the strange girl.

" _Walter Englishman, You are troubled also, but in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I bless you, and say to you, be well again."_

Walter sat down suddenly, his head reeling with the enormity of what he was thinking. Could it be? Could it be real? Could it really be a visitation from heaven? He had never believed in miracles, but now?

Later that evening, when she had secured the doors and windows for the night, Ana smiled as she sat in her chair and listened to the noises from above. They were certainly enjoying themselves up there, but she did not mind. Even though she was still technically a virgin, she and Walter had spent several happy nights together, and not just playing chess either, but her time would come.

It would be soon now, and she could wait.

Waiting was easy. When she was just a girl, she had waited nearly three days with Beryl and two others in a cave, waiting for a lion to go away. She slipped her hand inside her blouse and held the lion's claw necklace that she had worn since the day she had helped to kill the beast, and drifted off to sleep, dreaming about being a hunter, just like her grandmother had been.

Chapter 23

### Miss Information

Retrieving Tanya's few possessions from the yard of the Black Swan in Altmore turned out to be relatively easy. Glen insisted on seeing Gloria to tell her the sad story of Tanya's demise, and Altmore's prima sent Ricardo with them to help with locating and uncovering the pathetic bundle behind the privy. They were watched with morbid curiosity by citizens who had heard the quickly spreading rumours of Sonia's brutality, and from the crowd's mood, it was obvious that Lakeside would be getting no help in any confrontation which arose from this sad episode.

When Glen, Bubbles and Daisy left town, life in Altmore settled down to it's more usual relaxed pace. But Consuela had given up trying to find a suitable solution to her problem, and had decided to let Ibis sort it out, so two days later a wagon from Lakeside arrived with Sonia and Conti shackled together in the back.

Shortly after the wagon rolled to a stop behind Gloria's residence, Walter and his three escorts arrived as well and the gossip between neighbours reached fever pitch again.

Walter was a troubled man and had gone straight to the church to pray, but Maria and Sophie decided that their priority was to get some liquid refreshment in the Black Swan. Ana put her animal's needs before her own and found a safe byre for the ox and even made an effort to clean it up somewhat, vigorously brushing it down. The others were slightly bemused by the 'new' Ana they were seeing. Without the presence of Consuela and Sybil, Ana was changing, both in attitude and appearance, and the further from Lakeside's power base, the greater the changes. She was now dressed in soft buckskin, that she told them had belonged to her mother, and had plaited coloured feathers into her hair. She had even tied feathers to the cows horns and onto the dog's collars.

As Ricardo examined Walter's defunct helmet with stereo magnifiers, and made minor adjustments to the inner workings, the aroma of roasting coffee beans filled the air, making his mouth water in anticipation.

"Nearly done now Walt. Put my helmet on and go outside, so we can try it."

Glen stared in wonder at the glittering array of instruments in the big room at the top of the white tower.

"Wow!"

Beryl smiled at the sight of her friends face, although she had probably looked like that as well when she had finally gained entry to the building through a broken window.

"Good isn't it?" she said.

Glen shook her head slowly. She was sure that nobody in the world had ever seen anything like this before. "What does it all do?"

"No idea pet, but Ricardo will tell us. Or Margaret maybe."

"Ricardo?"

"Rosita's on her way to fetch him."

Glen nodded in understanding. Since the spring fair and the film shows, Ricardo had gained a reputation as a worker of miracles. She gently ran her hands over the multicoloured desktop, feeling the slight imperfections in the surface.

"Just think," she said quietly, "we are probably the first people to touch this for a thousand years."

The 'imperfections' that Glen felt were the tactile indentations of the secondary control board, and in the heart of the machine, a tiny programme was alerted to her touch and reacted by sending a message, the only message it knew.

"Wait till you see the basement," Rosa told her. "There's some weird stuff down there as well."

A switch in the base of the ripple mast on the roof closed silently, and the mast began to convert air pressure and sunlight to electrical energy.

"Really? What sort of weird stuff?"

As the charge built up, semi sentient relays made secondary connections and a major programme came slowly out of hibernation.

"Wagons and things. I couldn't describe them, you have to see them to believe."

The programme finished it's preliminary checks, and decided that life in the tower was a viable proposition again.

"Well, let's go see. Shall we?" Then she frowned. "What's that noise?"

The panel lights came on dimly, but they were still bright enough to alarm the three women, who backed slowly away from the pulsating display.

'Relay station west four on standby.'

"Who the hell is that?" whispered Beryl.

Glen spun round but there was nobody behind them either.

'Going live. In three, two, one, activate, and on line.'

Ricardo's voice came clearly from an invisible speaker. "... but that's what she said, or rather, what I heard she said. Is that better?"

"Seem to have got an echo now," replied Walter.

"Can you keep talking Walt, while I tweak this pot."

With eyes as wide as saucers, the new owners of the white tower listened in awe, wondering what was happening.

Walter sighed and started talking, as he thought, only to himself and Ricky.

Caroline came hurtling out of the farmhouse yelling, "Marco, Marco. Where are you?"

Rushing round a corner, she ran straight into him and would have fallen down, but he held her upright with his huge but gentle hands.

"Whoa girl," he laughed, "what's the rush?"

"Your helmet," she gasped. "In there," pointing. "It started talking to me."

"Bastard about Tanya Vine, wasn't it." Said Ricardo

"She was a nice kid," replied Walter. "A bit behind the beat, though. Or maybe half a step in front of the rest of us? Who knows? I certainly don't."

"Were you there when she was cremated?"

"No, missed most of it. Me and Ana were, mmm, playing chess."

Ricky laughed, "Yes, I bet you were."

"No, really. She's learning fast. She could give you a run for your money now."

Ricky looked up from his work and smiling, winked at Ana, who was sitting with his latest wife, Joanna Radley from Central. Ana blushed and suddenly took a lot more interest in the book that Joanna was showing her, even though she could barely read.

"What the hell got into Sonia to make her cut her toes off?" asked Ricky.

"Apparently it was something Tanya said to her," replied Walter.

Glen's brain was in a whirl. "NO!" she shouted at the control panel, making Beryl and Rosa jump with fright.

"No," she repeated, but quieter. "That's not right."

"Glen?" said Beryl.

"I put her on the pyre. Me, myself. She had all her toes. I know she did. I'm sure she did."

She stared into Beryl's eyes for long seconds before whispering, "who did I cremate? Who the bloody hell was she?"

"More to the point," replied Beryl, "where on earth is Tanya Vine?"

Ana rapidly lost interest in the book, which did not have enough pictures in it for her liking. The chatter between the men was much more interesting, especially when Marco eventually joined in.

"Joanna tells me that there's more unrest in Central than you can shake a stick at." said Ricardo.

"Proper vipers nest," replied Walter. "What are they doing this time?"

"Another set to in the arena tomorrow. Four of their own priestesses in for a rough time."

"Poor sods, what have they done?"

"Supposed to have killed somebody on the road up your way." Ricky glanced up at his wife. "Joanna says it's not likely though. Says she knows them, three of them anyway, and they just wouldn't do that sort of thing."

"Do we know them?" asked Walter.

"Well I don't recognise the names, if you can call them names."

"Why's that then?"

"One of them is called Isabella Candle, and that's not a name, it's a question."

In the white tower there was a sharp intake of breath and it was Beryl's turn to be confused and concerned as she remembered the words of her premonition.

"Is this it?" Glen asked. "Is this the day?"

Beryl put one hand to her forehead and closed her eyes as she considered the options open to her. At last she turned to the others.

"I'm going to Central," she said quietly. "you two can stay here, it's not your fight."

"Not bloody likely," said Glen forcefully. "I've lost Basher, so I'm not letting you go off on your own and losing you as well."

"We will have to hurry to be there for tomorrow," added Rosa.

"Who are the others?" asked Walter.

"Cherry somebody and Candy somebody else, but Jo says she doesn't know the other one. Bit odd that, she thought she knew them all at the temple."

"Who's she then?"

"They say her name is Florabel, Florabel D'Alacant."

"Mmmm, sounds more like a title."

"Ricky, Walter, this is Marco. Where are you now? Are you nearby?"

"Well I'm near Ricky," said Walter, "and he's near me, but where are you?"

"I'm here of course."

"Of course you are," interrupted Ricardo, "but pray tell us, where exactly are you?"

"At home, in the house."

"Not possible," said Ricardo quickly. "We don't have line of sight from here to you."

"Can't explain it," said Marco hurriedly, "but it's not important. Tell me about this Florabel, I only caught part of it."

Ricardo repeated what Joanna had told him and then Marco told them about the time when Flossie had called herself Florabel of San Wan and Alacant, and how Tanya had given Marco the same name when they had disguised him as a princess to hide from Margaret and Sylvia. It was a long story but they eventually understood and believed him, coming to the conclusion that there was a reasonable chance that Florabel D'Alacant was actually Tanya Vine.

Ana said adios to Joanna and crept away, so did not hear Marco begging Ricky and Walter to go to Central for him to halt the proceedings in the arena. Eventually, Walter said that he would go, but he wanted Marco there as soon as possible as he did not particularly fancy his chances of achieving anything on his own.

"Sad pair you've turned out to be."

Conti nudged Sonia, who reluctantly opened one eye. If she was surprised at Ana's appearance, she did not let it show.

"What do you want?" she said tersely. "Contrary to popular belief, we are not a freak show, so sod off and leave us alone."

Ana shook her head in mock exasperation, feathers swirling with the movement. "Naughty, naughty. Thought you would be glad to see a friendly face for a change."

"Piss off Ana, we're not in the mood for visitors." Then she noticed the two women in pink shirts standing at the end of the alleyway and raised her voice, "and you two vultures can bugger off as well."

Ana smiled. She was savouring the moment, and was going to enjoy remembering Sonia like this for a long time. "Not even a visitor with food and good news?"

Conti's eyes lit up as she grabbed eagerly for the chunk of bread and single boiled potato that Ana had liberated from Joanna's kitchen. "Good news? What's that then?"

"Walter's been speaking up for you, talking to Gloria about repentance and redemption. Seems that his God is big on this repentance thing."

Sonia gave a harsh laugh. "Fat lot of good talking will do, Connie's washed her hands of us, and all this god stuff is just idle talk as well. We're dead in most folks eyes already."

Ana nodded wisely. "True. Up to a point, but Walter's God sent an angel, a real one, to save him last week, Maria saw her, so that puts paid to your theories on religion, and yes, it's only water." This last was in reaction to Sonia's sour expression after she had taken a drink from the jug. "Now, let me ask you a couple of questions, and you probably ought to think before you answer."

Sonia shrugged, so Ana continued, "so, you are in the deep stuff because you had Tanya killed, yes?"

Sonia frowned but agreed.

"What if she wasn't actually dead?"

Conti would have jumped for joy, but for her right leg being shackled to Sonia's left. "Are you serious? We're safe if she's OK."

Sonia butted in, "what's the catch?"

"What if she was alive, but about to be murdered in the arena for something she probably hadn't done? What would you do?"

"Ah." Sonia held up a hand to silence Conti. "This isn't just words is it. You've heard something, haven't you?"

It was Ana's turn to shrug. "Maybe."

Sonia gave a deep sigh, then said, "well then, obviously it would be my fault that she was there, and I know that I was wrong to do what I did. So..."

"Go on," Ana prompted, "finish it."

"It's a long way to Central, but I would run to the gates of hell to make amends. We have one small problem though," and leaning forward, she rattled the chain.

Ana held up her hand, holding a bent piece of metal. "We also have a lock pick."

While she worked at the lock she told them what she had heard, and what they were going to do, because in her opinion the others would be only talking about it, and probably forever.

As she concentrated on her task, her tongue peeped out of the corner of her mouth, and then she suddenly stopped and looked up at Sonia. "I pray to Walter's God now," she said quietly. "Walter says that if we truly confess our sins, then He forgives us and we go to heaven, but if we don't mean it, then He knows, because He knows everything and it's the other place for us." She narrowed her eyes. "You'd better be sure you mean it girl."

There was a loud CLICK and the lock sprang open, letting the chain fall from their legs. Sonia reached down and massaged her left ankle where a red mark was already visible, although the skin was not broken.

"We're going to need some shoes. Can't get all the way to Central barefoot, can we?"

It was all hustle and bustle at Toogood farm as Marco got ready for the long journey to Central. He had wanted to leave Sali in charge, but was informed that she and Dotty Sharp had borrowed a wagon from Ibis so that Sali could visit an old friend. Just who this friend was, nobody could actually say as Sali had been a bit vague about where she lived. His next disappointment, which was more serious for him, was that nobody had seen Caren since dinnertime the day before. Eventually, Marco and four of the girls were on their way, but did not expect to arrive at Central until mid afternoon at the earliest, even though they were planning to walk most of the night without stopping. Pansy watched with mixed emotions as they disappeared from sight over the hill towards Ibis. She had wanted to go with them, but Marco had insisted that she stayed behind to prepare for whatever the next few days should bring.

Bonnie Boots looked up as the door bell tinkled and frowned in distaste at the ragged condition of her customer. Her superior attitude was replaced by a mild state of panic as she recognised the second person through the door as the girl who had sold her that damned ring.

"It wasn't me!" she blurted out, jumping to her feet and knocking the stool over. "I never told them anything, it was somebody else."

Sonia and Conti looked at each other in baffled surprise.

"We only need some shoes, and maybe..." said Sonia, but stopped abruptly as the horror stricken Bonnie reacted violently to the sight of Ana, with her head covered in chicken's feathers.

As screams go, it was not very impressive, except in it's longevity as it seemed to go on forever, and they could even hear it through the door which Bonnie had hurtled through, and slammed shut behind her. Above the noise of the pitiful and endless wailing, they heard the sound of several bolts clicking into their sockets.

"Was it something we said?" asked Ana.

Sonia shrugged, neither knowing nor caring. "There's some strange folk about."

"Find some decent shoes," Ana said to the others, then louder, "we are borrowing some things mistress Boots."

The reply came back faintly, "take what you want, take it all, just leave me alone."

Sonia and Conti started examining shoes and boots, while Ana found and opened the door leading to the armoury. She quickly found what she wanted and came out again to find the others had helped themselves to complete outfits of decent clothes similar to her own, suitable for the open road.

"Walter will pay. I guess?" said Ana. "Here, take these, we might need them."

Sonia was not impressed. "Toy swords and bamboo spears?"

Conti turned the shield over to look at the reverse side. "It's only wickerwork," she said and let her disappointment show in her tone of voice. "Covered in cow hide."

"Central's about a day and a half's walk away," said Ana slowly, fixing Sonia with a steady gaze. "We are going to try and get there today. We are Lakeside and running is what we do best, but not if we're carrying battle boards and wearing chain mail. You can either become light infantry," she paused and then, "or go back in the wagon."

"We're running," said Sonia instantly, echoed by Conti a second later.

"Good choice ladies, and if we're lucky, then maybe we can steal something more suitable when we get there."

"We are going now mistress Boots," shouted Ana at the bolted door. "Walter will pay you, no problem."

Seven tortuous hours later they were sitting at the side of the road, red faced and gasping for breath watching the lights of Central twinkling into life less than five kilometres away.

Sonia gently massaged her left calf which had been a burning agony for the last hour or so. She had been determined not to get left behind and had refused to let them slow down so that she could easily keep up.

Eventually, Ana got them to their feet again and slowly they completed their journey, walking into Central, as Ana put it, 'as if we own the place.'

Nobody challenged them, or indeed seemed to notice them at all, and they arrived at the arena without any trouble. Until Conti rattled the door handle to see if it was unlocked, that is.

She gave a little start of surprise as the hatch slid open and someone challenged them. "Yes? What do you want?"

It was Sonia who took the initiative. "We are... we are the Furious Doves," she stammered out, using the first name she could think of. "We're the exotic dance troupe from La Via."

The person behind the door studied them for a moment and then her eyes flickered left and right, looking up and down the alley.

"There were more of you last year. And have you got that damned bear with you? Took bloody ages to wash the stink of it out of here."

"No," said Sonia quickly. "It had to go. Had two left feet, couldn't keep in time."

The anonymous face frowned, then dismissed the weird thoughts that were coming to her. "Good. But you're not due for two days so come back then."

She started to close the hatch.

"But I thought we could stay here?" blurted out Ana, hoping for an easy way to get to the prisoners.

"Not this time girls," Carla Keys told them. "Go to the temple next door. They'll be glad to give you a safe corner to yourselves."

The hatch slammed shut and the girls were left in near darkness again.

Chapter 24

### Arena, deja vu

"Think we can do it?"

Beryl grimaced as she considered Rosa's question and looked across the wide road to study the nervous militia guarding the gateway to the arena next to Pauline's place. "Oh we can do it alright," she said slowly. "But we're not going to, are we?"

Glen shook her head slightly, "three of us against seven of them, and they look a bit handy. There'll be a lot of blood spilled on both sides. The cost will be too high."

"They've already sent a runner." Rosa indicated with her head. "Saw her scoot off that way like a scalded cat."

"Probably going for some back up. Tina Flake most likely." Remarked Glen.

"Guess we're too late then," added Rosa hopefully.

"I'm not leaving," Glen insisted. "I should have found her before this lot did."

Beryl put her hand on Glen's shoulder. "None of us are going. Can't you feel it?"

Glen already knew about Beryl's vision, but Rosa gave her a mystified look.

"What should we know Beryl?" she asked.

"I've got a strange feeling about this place. It's like there's somebody looking over my shoulder all the time. I can't be sure what, but I think something weird is happening and we should just wait here, all innocent like, for the gates to open."

Rosa swore gently. "Wait, wait, bloody wait. I hate waiting."

Glen shivered as she muttered under her breath, "open the gates of hell then. We'll be ready, come what may." Then frowning, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "Do we have to stand here? This alley smells like something died in it."

Inside the arena, the sparse crowd waited for the main event to begin, and some waited more patiently than others.

One of them had already been waiting nearly nine months for a very special event, and she made her way slowly to the benches near the tunnel.

"Mind if I sit here deary," she asked and sat down without waiting for a reply, easing her ample posterior into the narrow space.

"Here watch it," the jostled woman began, but stopped when she saw that the newcomer was very pregnant. "Oh, sorry love, didn't see you properly at first. Shift up girls, new mother among us."

The pregnant girl opened her little bag and taking out some half finished knitting, soon had the needles clicking away merrily.

Davina smiled as she watched the little garment grow. "Just think," she murmured, "I nearly had to learn how to knit."

The girl looked up into her smiling face. "Oh yes?"

"I went to Altmore as well, you know," she said proudly. "I got to know that Ricardo very well. Very well indeed, but it didn't happen for me." She patted her flat stomach for emphasis. "Maybe next time." They sat in silence for a while until Davina had plucked up her courage. "Can I?" she eventually asked.

The girl didn't understand at first, but then realised what was meant and smiled. "Course you can," and she moved her knitting to one side.

Davina put her hand gently on the large stomach and sighed. "Beautiful, just beautiful. Respect to you girl, total respect."

The needles began their chattering again.

"Can I get you anything, you know, a drink maybe, or some roast hamster?"

"No thankyou, not just now."

"Nice colour, the wool I mean."

"Yes, really wanted pink, but had to make do with this yellow, but she says that it doesn't really matter that much."

"She?"

"Yes, my little one. She's going to be called Serena."

Davina frowned, not understanding but nodded and said, "peaceful."

"Yes, hopefully she won't have my temper." She gave a large sigh as she got to the end of another row and stopped knitting. "Well if you'll excuse me, I'll have to go to the closet. Got to pee again. One of the little nuisances you have to put up with when you're like this."

She got up and waddled awkwardly towards the passageway, then turned and spoke again just before she got there. "Davina? Serena says you're a lot nicer than some others that we've met here, and if you should leave now, before the mad rush, then you could come and visit us in Ibis." Then she disappeared through the door.

"That's funny."

Davina's companion turned to her, "What's that?"

"Never saw her before, but she knew my name."

Her friend laughed. "Probably a witch then." She laughed again and slapped the puzzled woman on her shoulder.

"No witches this side of Homestead," Davina said, but thought to herself, 'Leave? and what did she mean by "mad rush"?' Then, 'Ibis? She lives in Ibis?'

A half hearted cheer came from the bored crowd as the prisoners emerged from the tunnel, urged on at spear point by the women of the militia. There were four of them, in poor health from their time in the mine and bleeding and bruised from the savage beating they had received from their captors.

Tanya Vine was nearly unrecognisable and had to be half carried onto the sand.

Davina turned to her neighbour. "This is sick. Look at them, this isn't entertainment, it's not even justice. They're going to be murdered."

Her friend scowled. "Don't they deserve it though? They're escaped slaves and murderers themselves, aren't they?"

"Deserve punishment, maybe, but not this." Davina said harshly, "It's not right and I can't watch it. I'm going," and she stood up.

"Suit yourself, but I've paid my ten cents and I'm staying for my money's worth."

Davina climbed the stairs and left the arena without a backward glance, in her head the gentle voice still calling out, _'leave, before the mad rush.'_

Millie Storm stood and read the charges and the verdict, concluding with the usual, "and may the Lady above be merciful upon you."

Carla Keys roughly pushed Isabella Candle forward. "Say the words trash, and be quick about it."

Isabella stumbled, going down on one knee, some of the crowd laughing as she nearly went full length on the ground. "My name is," she croaked but got no further as a small pregnant girl, clutching some yellow knitting, emerged from the tunnel to the sound of the crowd's raucous approval.

"You can't come down here girl," said the astonished gatekeeper. "There's going to be an execution."

"Execution is it? I thought they were supposed to be given a fair chance."

Millie was outraged. "What do you think you are doing? Get out, you're making a mockery of the whole thing."

"Mockery? MOCKERY?"

Her voice had a cutting edge to it and the crowd were shocked into silence.

The girl put one hand on Carla's chest and surprisingly, Carla found herself thrown backwards and she ended up sitting in the dirt. "I'll tell you about mockery. When the law takes a handful of coins to deliver a false verdict, that's mockery."

The strange scene made the awe struck crowd feel decidedly uneasy.

"When the family with most money can buy their own judge, that's mockery."

She turned slowly and addressed the crowd, and her pointing finger seemed to pick out every one of them. "When ordinary folk pay to see cruel injustice dressed up as entertainment, that's mockery."

Her piercing eyes swept the audience and they felt her contempt as a chill wind across their souls. "You strut around in your fancy clothes, and sneer at the villagers in their homespun shirts. You put on your airs and graces and laugh at the clowns from the country. Know you now, that I was born in Homestead, and as poor as that place is, everyone there is honest, as you are not."

The whispering in the crowd started then, and Ma Nesbitt's reputation was legend, even this far away. "Homestead, oh shit, she's a witch. One of that Nesbitt woman's girls."

"You make me sick. This vile place is a disgrace to humanity and it's days are numbered. Leave. Now. While you can."

She turned slightly and waved gently in the general direction of the exit.

Most of the crowd grasped the meaning of the hissed words and the arena was soon emptying in a mad scramble for the only way out, women fighting their way over the tiers of benches, clawing and pushing others out of their way to get away from the menace on the sun-baked arena floor.

Across the street, standing in the shadow of the carob tree, the three Strongholders watched the panic stricken mob pouring from the gateway. "Not much longer," whispered Beryl, catching hold of Glen's arm as her partner lifted her spear and started forward. "It'll be soon now." Then she called out loudly as Central's prima came running up to join the guards, "too late Tina Flake, far too late. No bribes can get you out of this one. Welcome to hell, girl."

Inside, the girl finally turned her attention back to the lawgiver of Central. "Not you Millie Storm. You're not going anywhere, so get down here and face me."

Her raised hand swept round the almost empty arena and all the doors and windows in the building slammed shut.

The corrupt official was unable to stop herself walking down the steps as if in a trance and she finally joined the five women of the militia on the sand.

"Six of you and only little me to stand for the poor templars here. Does that seem fair to you?"

She bared her teeth in a frightening smile. "My name is Sali Vorden, my unborn daughter is Serena Vorden cum Tanto ab Hummingbird. We stand with Tanya Vine and we are your worst nightmare. Now, it begins."

Ana jumped down from the window she had been about to climb through, and which had closed violently in her face.

"Now what?" asked Conti in alarm. The sound of all the doors and windows closing had surprised them and Ana had only kept all her fingers by good fortune.

"Back to the temple and over the roof?" suggested Sonia, and they ran back the way they had come.

"Well here's a surprise," said Glen quietly, looking towards the end of the road, where a lone figure had appeared.

Walter had left his Sundown armour in Altmore and was jogging towards them, wearing cotton trousers and an open neck shirt. Both had been white when he started out, but now they were dirty and sweat stained. Although Maria, Sophie and Sonia's two hapless guards had started out with him, he had steadily outpaced them over the last couple of hours and was now about ten minutes ahead of them. He slowed down to a walk to try and get his breathing under control, and taking in the situation at a glance, he ignored Beryl's group and stopped in front of the militia.

"How much?"

Tina looked at him warily. She was rapidly losing control of the situation and the events that were now unfolding were way beyond her experience and capabilities.

"What?"

"Ibis wants Tanya Vine back, so what's your price? And don't play coy, we know she's here."

She swore under her breath. Tanya Vine? If only someone had said that yesterday, she could probably have paid off the right people.

"Too late for that. It's gone too far." She shook her head. "I didn't know," she finished lamely. "Why didn't she tell us her real name?"

Walter closed his eyes and gave a sigh of disappointment and frustration. They would have to do it the hard way.

He was on the verge of suggesting that there was about to be a bloody repetition of the recent civil war, when the hard way came rapidly sneaking up on them, and for some it was going to be harder than they could imagine.

Rosa gave a small yelp of fear which descended into a whimpering cry as a huge paw settled on her shoulder, and a deep voice rumbled, "away from the walls. Now."

She took no further urging, as Cilla pushed her forward.

Glen was ready to fight the great bear, but Beryl laughed out loud and urged her companion into the roadway.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

Cilla chuckled. "Taking it rather calmly, aren't you?"

"I've seen this day in my dreams," replied Beryl.

"Mmm. Just wait in the road for a while and you will also see the sky fall."

A second bear came out of the alley and stood on it's hind legs, sniffing the air, growling all the while.

"Any moment now," said Cilla. "He's more sensitive than I am and knows these things."

Across the road, the militia and Walter stood open mouthed in surprise, wondering what was happening. Walter had heard Maria's account of the talking bear, but had dismissed the tale as merely hysterical delusion. Now he believed fully, and was not particularly alarmed, but only shrugged his shoulders in a 'what now?' kind of gesture.

Beryl shouted across the road to him. "Get here now, the sky's going to fall on us."

Sonia was the first one to take the leap of faith from the temple roof to the arena, and was followed closely by the others. She was just in time to see what triggered the events that followed, but could not hear what was being said.

Down on the sand, Sali had had an accident. Two accidents in fact.

"Now look what you've made me do," she said menacingly, and her six opponents took an involuntary step backwards. She held both needles in one hand and the tiny garment in the other, the stitches starting to fall undone. "It took me ages to do this and now I've got to start again. Ooh it makes me so mad."

Then she bent forward clutching her stomach in pain.

"Not now, baby. Not now," she whispered.

Maddie Toogood laughed out loud as she saw the growing pool between Sali's feet and realised what was happening.

"She's giving birth," she exclaimed. "Do it now, before she recovers."

She had only taken a couple of tentative steps forward when Sali howled in pain and as her cries echoed round the empty terraces, a rumble like thunder shook the building.

Sali sat on the sand and howled again and in response the ground beneath them started to vibrate in a most alarming way, causing the others to look at each other fearfully, wondering what was happening.

The full force of the earthquake then struck Central, and the buildings around them started to totter and collapse.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Cilla to no one in particular, as debris rained around them.

They were all cowering in the middle of the road now, friend and foe alike, although everyone managed to stay clear of the big bear, which was still growling menacingly.

As the tremors subsided, Beryl grabbed Central's prima by the arm.

"We're going in," she said, indicating the broken gate. "Want to try and stop us?"

Tina did not get a chance to reply.

"No. Not yet." Cilla the bear made it clear that it was an order. "She is in there, in the cellars"

"She? Who's that?" asked Beryl.

Cilla nodded as only a bear can nod, showing all her teeth and drooling, and repeated, "She."

Ana leapt from the balcony just as the first tremors struck. Sonia and Conti landed beside her and they staggered away from the side of the arena, seeking safer ground in the centre.

As the shocks died away, Maddie and the others found themselves confronted by the three Lakesiders who were now standing between them and their intended victims, including Sali who was lying on the sand groaning pitifully.

"Stand aside girlie," said Maddie, her face a grinning mask of hatred. "These Homestead bitches cost me my home, and it's payback time."

Ana swallowed nervously. What had seemed a good idea from a distance did not look so clever at close quarters.

"Back off," she ordered, in a not quite convincing tone of voice, waving her bamboo spear in front of her.

"Or else, what?"

As she spoke the last word, Maddie flicked her sword upward with dizzying speed and the end of Ana's spear fell to the ground.

Ana looked at the remains of the weapon in dismay. "Now look what you've done," she exclaimed. "We only borrowed these and we've got to take them back. You'll have to pay for it, I'm not."

"What?"

Behind Ana, on the ground, Sali's clutching fingers were digging into the sand, and slowly but surely a hole was appearing at her side as the sand trickled ever faster into some unseen cavity below them.

"This spear," said Ana slowly, "is not mine, and you will have to pay for it. Comprende?"

To her great satisfaction, her words seemed to be taking effect, and their six opponents began backing away from them.

Then she wondered why they were not making eye contact, but all looking over her head, and she turned round to come face to navel with the biggest goat in the world, covered in sand and dirt.

Gretaghast Horningtower, navigator (third class) and prime example of physical fitness, had punched through the adjoining cellar walls, and had climbed up from the room below the arena, rising to the surface like a demon from hell.

Ana fainted as Gretaghast bellowed out a challenge that king kong would have refused, causing everyone, including Sonia and Conti to seek safer ground, leaving Ana to her fate.

"That's Her," said Cilla reassuringly, "we can go now."

Greta sat on the sand, cradling Tanya in her arms.

"Fine," she murmured. "Tanya fine. Mine."

Slowly but surely, the dementia brought on by her solitude was wearing off and she was becoming a thinking, rational creature again.

She was so attentive to Tanya that she did not realise that Maddie Toogood was coming up behind her, sword held high and ready to strike.

None of the others would have been in time to save her, but Greta's guardian angel was always alert.

Springer Three, the chameleon craft that had brought Greta to Earth, with the other two crew members, had followed Greta's wanderings faithfully for more than six years, never more than seven kilometres away, and always in scanner distance. The semi sentient Springer could not conceive what the navigator was doing groundside for such a long time, but had always been ready for this moment.

As Maddie prepared to strike, and as Beryl opened her mouth to scream a warning, the normally invisible craft flickered into the mid range spectrum and a bolt of lightning streaked down, from the craft's weapons pod directly to the upraised sword.

Maddie died instantly and was quickly reduced to a small heap of smoking ash, and the arena was filled with the cloying stench of burnt flesh.

Chapter 25

### New life

Serena came safely into the world, helped along by Rosa, the only mother in the group, who had got over the shock of meeting talking bears and goats surprisingly quickly. Ana recovered quickly too, and was soon with the others at the arena gate, where Beryl was planning their retreat out of town by the safest route.

Safest was still not easy though, as the shocked townsfolk were recovering from the earthquake and were looking to vent their anger on someone, or anyone even, especially if that anyone was from Homestead.

Using some form of self hypnosis to overcome her pain and discomfort, Sali declared herself fit enough to walk, but then planning went out of the window as Greta took charge.

"Come," she said. "Time." And not giving anyone the chance to question her decision, ran out of the gate and into the midst of the stone throwing crowd which promptly scattered in all directions.

Behind Greta, Beryl and Glen headed the loose wedge formation that they had adopted with Walter, Maria and the bears bringing up the rear. In the middle of the group, Cherry was helping Sali, and Sonia elected to be near Tanya and Isabella.

Walter smiled when he saw Sonia supporting Tanya, and thought that he would never truly understand women.

Sali smiled as well, and looking over her shoulder she said, "you don't need to."

He did not realise that he had spoken his thoughts out loud, but looked at her in surprise, and then got no time to think about it, as the threat from the Central citizens had not gone completely away and they were all too busy for rational thought.

Greta had disappeared from view as they dodged round the rubble in the roadway and then entered the alley at the side of the inn.

Beryl pulled Glen to one side to let the others past. "We wait here I think, get rid of your spear."

She passed it to Ana as she went past, saying to her, "You've grown since I saw you last."

Ana smiled and lifted her necklace slightly. "Still got it," was all she had time to say, and Glen chewed at her lower lip as she watched them go safely out of town.

"Why here?" she asked.

"Archers," Beryl replied quietly. "About seven of them."

"Chingamé!"

Beryl chuckled. "Such language Glen. It's still swearing, even in Spanish."

Glen gave a big sigh. "But seven? I don't fancy those odds at all."

Beryl chuckled. "We'll be alright, I've seen today, you know I have, and this seems to be the reason that we're here. Surprise is on our side. We kill their bows and run like the wind." She looked up quickly and whispered, "they're here, in four, three, two, now."

They leapt from the alley, back into the road and screaming their war cries, ran at the group of women coming towards them. They were not ready for a close quarters fight and Beryl and Glen pressed home their advantage, swinging their short swords and knives with deadly skill, hacking at bows and slicing through bowstrings. Only one of the archers managed to draw a weapon, a long knife, but Beryl had seen it coming, and stabbed the unfortunate woman in the arm before breaking the bow she had dropped.

All the women retreated before the onslaught and their bows were soon damaged beyond immediate use, so Beryl and Glen turned and ran for the open countryside.

They quickly caught up with the rest, who had met Dotty Sharp driving the ox cart back towards Central. Sali had given her a fictitious errand to run, but fearing the worst when the earthquake struck, she had turned back.

Beryl decided that she wanted to talk to Tina Flake again before the day was over, so she tied a white rag to the top of a spear and waited with Rosa and Glen in the road, where they could be seen from town.

Sali and Tanya were helped up on to the wagon and they started off again, and when they met Marco along with Sarah, Fizz and Margo, it was a joyous occasion for everyone. Those coming from Central were glad of reinforcements, and those from Ibis were happy that their journey had not been in vain.

There were a few awkward moments when those from Ibis realised that Sonia and Conti were with them, but Ana stressed that they were redeemed villains, and everyone here today was a hero, so if anyone didn't like their company, they could leave. Or, alternatively, the Lakesiders were willing to go on by themselves.

No one left. The threatened departure of nearly half of their fit and active fighting force was a big incentive to forget their differences.

Promises and pacts

Beryl, Glen and Rosa returned shortly before dark, catching up with the others when they stopped for the night in one of the Collier's camp sites. Beryl told them that Tina and two others had eventually come out of town to talk to them, and that they would arrange a meeting in Altmore to discuss the future in the presence of all the town primas and cousins.

Hopefully she would hold to that agreement, but they would still post guards each night until they were in safer territory.

Darkness fell and they sat around three small campfires cooking whatever they had with them.

"What are they doing?"

Sarah Jugg sat up at Marco's words and studied the Lakesiders. "No idea," she replied after a couple of seconds. "They're a weird lot up there, always have been. But this looks like it's serious stuff."

Marco guessed that Sonia and Conti were in for a hard time, after what he had heard about them. "Mmm. Best leave them alone for a while, I guess."

Sali yawned, then smiled and passed Serena to him. "Here you are papa, your daughter needs you, and I need a rest."

Marco nervously took the small bundle.

"Not like that," Sali admonished him. "She needs to feel you. Cuddle her."

Walter was as baffled as Marco was, even though he had previously seen and heard what was happening now, but before, it had always been from a distance as he had never been invited to take part. This ceremony was apparently a woman thing.

He and the seven women from Lakeside were slightly apart from the others, sitting cross legged, in a circle around a small fire, everyone's knees touching those of the person on each side of them.

Sonia passed an earthenware bowl to Ana, who put it carefully on the ground in front of her. Ana then took from her belt a small sticklike metal object which gave a sharp 'click' as she twisted it before placing it in the bowl, and smiled as she glanced round the circle at the expressions on the other's faces. Bemused, worried, and in Maria's case, hostile.

"Will you lend me yours?" she asked, addressing no one in particular.

Hesitantly, Sophie was first to react, taking a chain from her neck and passing it wordlessly across the circle to Ana, who laid it in the bowl with her own.

Sophie nudged Maria, who demanded, "why should we?"

Ana winced but remained calm. Tonight had to go well. No arguments.

"You don't have to," she replied quietly. "You can leave the circle, but there's no coming back again."

Indecision crept across Maria's face and for a moment it seemed that she was going to get to her feet, but she suddenly thrust her hand into her blouse and when she withdrew it, looked down for a moment at the instrument in her fist. Although no one noticed it, Sophie squeezed Maria's thigh again, and Maria held her hand out towards Conti, who took the small object and passed it across to Ana.

Eventually, there were five in the bowl, not seven, as Sonia and Conti's converters had been taken from them by Cousin Consuela.

Ana looked briefly up at the stars and smiled to herself. Nearly there now, she thought, just a few more minutes.

They sat quietly, hands resting on knees, eyes half closed and listening to Ana, who spoke with an assurance which was growing all the time..

"Our people have worked on and by the water since before the dawn of time. The water is our life and our life is the water. We are Lakeside."

She paused for several seconds, but none of them spoke, none of them were willing to take the lead in the spell she was weaving. It was an old story, one they had heard many times before, but tonight it was going to have a different ending.

"We respect those who respect us and we give them water. We sweep aside all who dishonour us and do not share our water. We are Lakeside."

The response was automatic and they could not stop themselves, "we are Lakeside."

"We share the water, we share our lives. Bless the Lake."

Earlier, they had seen Sonia talking with Tanya and sharing her water bottle, so the reply came easily. "Bless the Lake."

Walter, sitting next to Ana, had his eyes half closed, but suddenly looked directly at the bowl. It seemed to be different.

"When one of us hurts, we all hurt with her. We are Lakeside."

"We are Lakeside."

"When one of us falls, we all fall with her. We are Lakeside."

"We are Lakeside."

"Two of us did a wicked thing and were found guilty. We were all guilty. We are Lakeside."

"We are Lakeside."

"Together we all found redemption, two of us found forgiveness. Bless the Lake."

"Bless the Lake."

Walter frowned. It was different. It was? Wet?

"Honour is saved, we are worthy of our mother's respect. We are Lakeside."

"We are Lakeside."

"Join hands."

It was an order, not a request and was a break from tradition, but they did as she said.

"Sonia Paquita Navidad is saved, she is worthy."

They were surprised but responded, "she is worthy."

"Conchita Dolores San Miguel is saved, she is worthy."

"She is worthy."

Walter glanced up at Conti. He had never heard her called Conchita before. When he looked at the bowl again, his eyes opened wide. It was filling with water.

"Only the worthy can run the lake and claim the man. We are worthy."

"We are worthy."

Walter stared. Were they miniature condensers? And if so, how did they work?

"Today we ran the distance of many lakes and tonight, I say to you all, that from this very moment, in the eyes of God in heaven and all who witnessed this day, we are all joined in marriage with Walter Southgate."

His wandering thoughts were dragged back to what Ana was saying and he had a brief panic attack as he wondered what she had in mind, but making physical demands on his already tired body was the last thing she was thinking of.

There was only the crackling of the fire's tiny flames to break the silence as the Lakesiders absorbed the message that Ana was delivering, and on the far side of the campsite, the others strained to make sense of what they were hearing.

She looked briefly round the circle, but no one was objecting, so she continued.

"We are sisters in water, we are sisters in marriage. Let no one come between us. We are Lakeside," and for emphasis, she loudly clapped her hands together once after the last word.

Still no one objected. "We are Lakeside, bless the Lake," and as they all echoed Ana's single handclap, Rachel and Jasmina stared wide eyed at Walter, who was now their 'husband', a state of affairs that should have been out of their reach for probably another year.

Ana lifted the bowl and passed it on after taking a sip. One by one they all drank from the bowl, even Walter, after some encouragement from the others.

"Well, that was different," whispered Marco as the circle broke up. "any ideas?"

Sarah shook her head. "I'll ask one of them tomorrow. And there again, maybe not. Some things are best left alone."

Ana grabbed Sonia by the arm as she went by. "It's a long way home sister."

Sonia agreed, but frowned. "Yes. So?"

"Seven nights I reckon. At least seven nights and seven days to get to know your new family. You owe us now, all six of us, but you've got to change your attitude to life. Be more gentle with everyone. You do realise that Cousin Consuela can't touch you after what we've done? Sisters in water? Only a blood oath is more powerful than that, and probably only slightly more so. Comprende?"

Sonia swallowed her sharp retort as Ana's words sunk in. She nodded slowly, realising what Ana had done, and the rest of them had unwittingly agreed to. They were united in the ancient water oath and were honour bound to protect each other at all times.

"Cunning little thing aren't you?" she whispered. "Aiming to be the next Cousin in Lakeside?"

Ana shook her head vigorously. "Not in a thousand lifetimes. My mother, and her mother before her fought for a way of life they believed in, and I just want peace and quiet, like they did. So no, not Lakeside, but we're going to do up the farm to the South of the lake and call it our own."

"Farmers? I'm not the farming type and Consuela won't like it."

"She will when she sees the profit we can bring in."

Sonia raised her eyebrows in query and Ana continued. "It's main crop appears to be Coffee, and we are going to be rich."

"But what about..."

"The lake? We will be on the South shore, so no problem there." After a brief silence to let Sonia think about it, Ana smiled and said, "go now. Tell Conti what I said, and I think you should both go and talk to Walter, and maybe sleep next to him for a few nights. In case he needs protecting, of course."

Sonia did not know what to answer to this, so Ana leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks. "Go on," she urged, "Maria and Sophie are both with child and I think that if you make your peace with Walter, then you four could be, should be, mothers as well before next summer comes."

"Four of us?"

Ana nodded. "Walter is turning out to be full of surprises and I'm going to see Rachel and Jasmina now. They should stay near Walter as well."

"Not you then. Why not?"

"Not my time yet. There's too much to do first. I'm happy for him to teach me to play chess."

Chapter 26

### The naked warrior

Margo and Fizz had shared the last watch of an uneventful night and they gratefully watched the sunrise, wondering if there was room in the wagon for them. It was still a long way to the relative safety of Altmore, and they were both very weary.

Every one of their party was safe, even if some of them were battered and bruised, but Greta and the two bears had their own agenda to follow, and had left camp about an hour before the sun arrived, so the humans were on their own again.

Some were glad that they had gone, and in the end it did not matter, as all of them would be reaching their destinations safely, but as the sun smiled on Margo and Fizz, Southward towards Ibis, Caren Hummingbird was planning a very nasty surprise for some very unsuspecting travellers.

Caren had lived in Burnt Wood with the wardogs for several weeks and being totally accepted by them, had been awarded the dubious privilege of being allowed to see their history books, which were actually rolls of parchment covered in drawings. They had been made by each successive leader of the tribe and depicted the main event of each year.

When the dogs ran away in shame, during the wolf attack on Homestead, they had left behind some of the scrolls. The oldest ones. And after studying the earliest one for some time, Caren had come to the conclusion that the dogs had misinterpreted the message that was drawn there, so when she had spotted sign of the dogs passing regularly near Ibis, she had set herself the task of tracking them down and putting their history right.

It was not easy sneaking up on a superdog, because they had a superb sense of smell, but Caren had been on a vegetarian diet for several days, which she hoped would alter her scent enough to fool them long enough to get close to them.

Walking along the trail by the river, Bubbles wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of one hand and glanced round at the clear blue skies. Another hot day, and not a cloud in sight again.

She wrinkled her nose and pulled a wry face. "Is that me?" she asked. "Do I smell?"

"I think we both do," replied Daisy. "It's a long time since I had a proper wash."

Bubbles scratched her head and examined her finger nails. "How long?"

Daisy shrugged. "About..." She slowly counted with help from the fingers of her left hand, then scratched her own head as well. "Oh, about six weeks I think."

Bubbles muttered something under her breath that Daisy didn't catch, then out loud, "come on, we're going for a swim."

"Are you crazy? There might be things in there."

Bubbles had lived by the sea as a girl and had no fear of the water, so she smiled at Daisy's horrified expression.

"Things! Like fish I suppose? Don't go chicken on me, get undressed and get wet. We can't go into Ibis smelling like a midden. Come on, last one in's a worm."

Naked as the day they were born, they entered the river, Bubbles quickly immersing herself and swimming for the far bank, Daisy more hesitantly and only going as deep as necessary.

Caren lay motionless under her blanket of ferns, breathing shallowly and praying that the wind in her face would not change direction. One by one the wardogs passed her position without giving her a second glance. The last in line was Toldo's youngest daughter, Presto, and as she went by, Caren wriggled as quietly as possible out of the shallow depression she had found and followed her.

Presto gave a start of surprise but then smiled as she recognised Caren, who winked at her and took her hand.

"Hello, aunty Caren," said Presto quietly. "You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

Caren shook her head and whispered, "no but I've come to tell you another story."

Presto's eyes lit up. She had enjoyed Caren's stories when they had been together in Burnt wood. "Hey!" she yelled suddenly. "Aunty Caren's going to tell us a story."

There was a brief moment of confusion with canine warriors seemingly tripping over each other and weapons being drawn and waved about in a most alarming fashion, but Caren was pleased to see that out of the chaos, several of the wardogs had formed a wide defensive perimeter around the rest of the group and were scanning the countryside for any more surprises.

"There was this dog, a bird and a cat, right? All walking past a garden with a woman standing in it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were they walking past the garden?"

"Because they were, OK? Just listen."

Sticker shrugged. This looked like it was going to be a very unusual story.

"So, there was this dog, a bird and a cat..."

"You've already said that."

She scowled at him and he changed his mind about speaking again.

"And the woman said, 'I need all these cabbages taking into my kitchen.' "

"Typical."

"Bet it was Ma Nesbitt."

"Never said please or nothing."

"WILL YOU SHUT UP."

The dogs flinched and went silent.

"Thankyou. Now, to recap. Dog, bird, cat, cabbages and kitchen. Right?"

There was silence as the dogs decided that Caren was not appreciating their contributions to the story.

Caren continued, "so the dog looked at the cabbages and the kitchen door and said, 'sorry to disappoint you madam, but it is well known that we wardogs do not enter doorways that still have doors attached to them.' "

The dogs all nodded wisely and muttered their agreement.

"Then the bird looked at the cabbages and the kitchen door and said, 'sorry to disappoint you madam, but it is well known that a bird of my stature is far too tall to pass through such a low doorway.' "

Most of the dogs scowled and one or two snarled softly as they realised that Caren was referring to Cilla the ostrich, who was known to the dogs as 'the killer chicken'.

"Then the cat stretched, then yawned and said, 'me? How?' "

There was a long silence as the dogs thought over this very strange tale. Then Tag coughed politely and turned to Toldo. "That was interesting. Reminds me of the time I was dying, about two years ago."

Toldo gave a vague shake of his head, so Tag continued. "I had such pains in my stomach but that Tilly Vorden cured me with a cabbage."

Toldo groaned. "Oh yes, and the cure was worse than the illness. Worse for us."

Caren looked from one to the other in dismay. This was not going to plan.

"I had to eat a whole cabbage, washed down with cabbage soup." He shuddered at the memory.

"And then," said another. "If I remember right, you farted your way through the night and nearly killed us instead."

"But what a relief for me," said Tag rubbing his stomach meaningfully.

"Cats can't speak," said Presto with a very serious expression.

Caren smiled. "Well spotted young warrior, but birds can speak, one particular bird, anyway. A very clever bird."

"We don't like to talk about it," said Toldo, trying not to look Caren in the eye, who replied, "but you will today."

She took the cap from the end of the tube she was carrying, and took out the dog's oldest picture. "Today, we're going to talk about this."

Toldo was indignant. "You've no right to hold that. It's ours."

"But you left it behind," Caren said slyly. "When you..." The dogs flinched as they anticipated the words, 'ran away.' "... went for help. And now I am returning it to you." She noticed the relieved expressions on some of their faces and continued with a smile, "the rest of them are at Toogood farm near Ibis. You can collect them on your way past."

"We might not be going that way," said Tag, slowly.

"But you might be as well. One day. Quite soon."

Ignoring any more protests, she spread the picture on the ground and hesitant hands held the corners down for her, and she pointed to the different scenes as she spoke.

"This is the start of your great journey to freedom. Leaving the Ruby house, going over the river and through the forests."

"We know all this," sneered Toldo who was getting annoyed with Caren's attitude.

"Presto?" The youngster looked up in surprise as Caren spoke to her.

"What's your favourite game? Apart from fighting with the boys."

Presto looked down as she whispered the answer. "Mr Wolf."

"What nonsense is this?" demanded Toldo. "Children's games?"

"I know why you play Mr Wolf. Say the words, Presto." urged Caren. Then to Toldo, "keep quiet and learn."

"Keep quiet? You dare..."

Caren raised her voice and snarled, "if Flair was here, she would listen, and she would learn. Why shouldn't you as well? Are you less intelligent than your wife?"

Toldo backed down and Caren urged Presto to speak.

"Where are we Mr Wolf?"

Caren pointed to the picture and chose a dog at random. "Say it."

"Leaving the house my cousins."

She pointed again.

"Crossing the river cousins."

And again, this time choosing Tag.

"Passing a tree."

This time, her namesake, Tag's wife.

"Climbing a hill cousins."

And finally Toldo.

"In the desert cousins," he said grudgingly, but finished it, "kill the bird."

There was a brief silence as they all tried to understand where this was leading.

"Fourteen of you left the Ruby house," said Caren, pointing to the small figures.

There were cries of outrage as the dogs disagreed, but eventually Caren quietened them enough to carry on.

"And when they reached the desert, there was no food, except for the lanky chicken, who could eat anything. Then your cousins the wolves persuaded three of you to kill the bird. It was all her fault, they said, and those three dogs died beneath her mighty claws."

"You're close to feeling my claws as well, cousin," snarled Toldo.

"Do you want to live with a false past and no future, or do you want to learn the truth about your glorious history and gain a new life?" She stared back at Toldo, her gaze never wavering. "I am not challenging you," she stated firmly. "I had plans to play a very serious game with you all after this, but if you like, we can make it just you and me," and she fingered the knife at her side.

Toldo was about to speak when Tag grabbed his arm and pulled him to one side, whispering in his ear. Tag's words had the desired effect, or perhaps it was Caren's unnerving grin that swayed him, but Toldo said nothing more.

"I speak for the clan," said Tag. "You may continue."

"Thankyou. Three of your clan died, so the remaining seven chased away the killer chicken, but when they returned it was to find the three wolves eating your fallen dead."

"Pardon me for interrupting this fine tale," said Grinder, "but these numbers are all wrong. Surely, we can count as well as you, and we have seen this history more times than you have."

Caren nodded her agreement. "We are all intelligent beings and your counting is as good as mine, I'm sure, and with your excellent sense of smell, you can track a cabbage fart back to it's owner without even trying."

There were several sniggers and sidelong glances at Tag.

"But."

They looked at her expectantly.

"I can see in colour, and this dog here," she pointed at the animal at the front of the pack. "Appears to have six legs and is not a dog. It is in fact a very bad drawing in three colours of three wolves, and they are being chased by seven angry dogs."

After the initial arguments died away she continued. "Wardogs do not run away from danger. They retreat and wait until the time is right, then return and chase evil away."

"Why should we trust you?"

"Why should you not?"

"We can't see what you can."

"Then taste the drawing. Maybe the flavour of a little of the paint would show you the truth."

Presto suddenly jumped up. "Cats always say miaow," she shouted, eyes sparkling. "I understand it now. Me how? Miaow."

Eventually all the dogs understood as well, and the tension drained away enough for Caren to suggest a game of 'Mr Wolf', but for adults only. After prompting, Presto explained the rules, which were basic to say the least. Everybody followed Mr Wolf and asked him where they were, and when at last he said, 'kill the bird,' the three at the back of the pack had to try and wrestle the bird to the ground, before the bird could do the same to them, or get away. Easy. But Caren volunteered to be the bird and she was going to play it the hard way.

"This is my bargain with you. When I have put three of you down," she told them, and there were raised eyebrows at her assured attitude, "I will run, and after the count of fifty you will try and catch me, and if you do, then you do as you please with me and about what I have told you today. But if I escape to the safety of Ibis, then you will return to Homestead and make your home there again."

"That's no bargain to be entered into lightly," said Toldo solemnly.

"I know that," answered Caren, "but Ma Nesbitt needs you, and she will not be too critical of you for what you have done."

"You talk as if you are going to win," said Toldo incredulously. "There are sixteen adults here, and it's a long way to Ibis."

"Well to make it as fair as possible for you, I shall only have my staff. To represent the height of the bird." and so saying, unbuckled her belt and passed it to Presto who caressed the sword and knife with loving fingers.

If only they had known of her prowess in the kendo ring, they would never have entered into such a one sided affair so willingly, and now she had rid herself of the deadweight of her sword belt, she was confident of outpacing them as well.

The game started well for the dogs, as they replayed the game of their childhood days, laughing as they jostled for position after every question and answer, and all hoping to be at the back, where Caren was calmly following them, when the right time came. Presto was at the front being 'Mr Wolf' and she solemnly told them where they were when asked. Forest, hill, rock, forest again, and finally, "in the desert, KILL THE BIRD."

Whirling round, Grinder, Kettle and Clock were expecting to charge at Caren but their howls of glee changed to cries of surprise and pain as Caren was already upon them. Kettle was first to feel the force of Caren's attack as she tripped him up and whacked him across his shoulders, then she reversed the staff and drove it hard into Grinder's stomach. Clock avoided her first thrust at his groin, but the spinning staff caught him squarely on the head and the sound of hard wood on steel helmet rang round the clearing.

She stepped back a pace and grounded the staff, as the wardogs gaped open mouthed at her and their fallen comrades.

"Must be losing my touch, I think," she said calmly. "Did you notice, it took me two strikes to put him down."

She threw the staff to Tag as she started to walk away. "No cheating now," she called over her shoulder. "Count to fifty before you come after me," and she broke into a run.

"Pssst, Bubbles."

Bubbles was floating on her back, gently sculling with her hands to keep in place against the slow current, and did not at first hear Daisy's hissed warning. She heard at last and turned her head to see what Daisy wanted, blinking the water out of her eyes.

"Over there," whispered Daisy. "We've got company."

On the far side of the river, a lone figure flitted between the trees, occasionally stopping and looking furtively round before moving on.

"What's she doing?"

Bubbles squinted against the sun's glare, and was about to reply that she did not know, when something else caught her eye. Something bright and out of place against the green and brown of the woods.

Red and yellow, there it was again.

"Holy mother," hissed Bubbles. "She's being hunted down."

Clothed in dull brown, the five hunters were given away by the gaudy hat that one of them was wearing.

"Pass me a blade."

Daisy was horrified. "You can't go over there," she hissed.

"Now," commanded Bubbles, and Daisy passed her the only weapon she could reach without leaving the water. Tanya's precious sword.

The river was not too deep, so even carrying the heavy sword, she got to the other side without any trouble and stealthily dragged herself out of the water at a low place in the bank where cattle came to drink.

The five wardogs who had picked up Caren's trail gave a howl of triumph as three of their companions emerged from the woods ahead of her.

Breaking into a run, they were quickly catching up with her, but their joy was short lived as Bubbles emerged from the bushes on the river bank.

Covered in mud, which was liberally spiced with cattle dung, she screamed her battle cry and charged into their midst. Whirling the shining blade, she created a zone of death around her and the dogs fell back from certain injury and possible death.

Blinking away the mud, she swung the sword in a vicious arc and the nearest dog just stood there, mouth open wide as he gazed at the naked demon bearing down on him, and waited for death to claim him.

Bubbles was tall for a woman of this time, and Toldo was short, even by dog standards, which was probably why he only lost his beautiful hat and not his head.

What saved him from losing anything else was the mud. The sword slipped out of Bubbles' grip and she fell over in front of her intended victim.

Expecting to be attacked by the dogs, she was surprised when Caren helped her to her feet.

"Nice one," laughed Caren.

"What are you laughing for? It's not funny."

"Look at him," said Caren and laughed again. "Just look at him."

Bubbles looked.

Toldo was distraught. "She'll kill me," he said sadly, almost in tears. "Took her and the kids ages to make it and look what you've done."

He held out the ruins of his once proud hat for all to see. "It's rags. Just rags."

The other dogs gathered round, now that the danger was over, one of them holding the sword. "Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Special sword is this."

"Historical even."

Caren gasped in amazement as she recognised the sword from her dream.

"It's Tanya's," she breathed. "She gave it to me in a dream."

"It's in our history pictures," said Toldo. "It's from Valencia."

"The queen's sword, that was," said another.

Caren's head was whirling with what she now recognised as the events in her prayer book. She stared at Bubbles, covered in mud and cow dung. "The naked warrior," she whispered. "and the queen's sword. Well I didn't imagine it would be like this, but welcome to the house of Hummingbird. Whoever you are."

Bubbles gave a start of fear and a yelp of surprise as a firm hand grasped the left cheek of her buttocks.

"Nice arse," growled Tag. "Wanna play chase the chicken?"

So Caren Hummingbird was coming to terms with losing Denny, her lifelong friend and adopted sister, and was happy that she had found her ancestors, Marco, Tanya and Bubbles.

Also, Tanya was well on the way to being restored to her rightful place at Toogood farm and what became known as the 'Sali Vorden affair' slowly drew to a close.

But before that strange Summer ended, the seeds of new adventures were sown in all corners of Spangerland, and even as Tanya and her rescuers arrived in Altmore, the biggest misunderstanding of all time was happening in the East, at Algar Springs.

The gate swung open to allow the travellers in.

"What news then?" asked Ginny Brand. "Is it true?"

Sister Belle River, previously known as Basher, climbed down unsteadily from the saddle and shook her legs experimentally. "True enough. Damn, but I hate horses. And if you try to bite me just once more," she was speaking now to the wild eyed, black horse, "I'll make you wish you were dead again."

She passed the reins to Lily, who had dismounted gracefully, and with ease. She liked horses, liked them a lot, and she led hers and Belles mounts to the new stables.

Belle warily watched them go, making sure that her contrary beast was not going to try and kick her, then continued, "Glen cremated her at Lakeside, and they are taking her bones back to Ibis."

Ginny shook her head with a sad expression. "Pity, I liked Tanya Vine."

Belle smiled and opened her pack. "Got you this though." and she held up the necklace that she had stolen from Lakeside's wagon.

"What is it?"

"Tanya's hair and toes. Do you think this will be enough to bring her back?"

Here ends book 2

Thankyou for getting this far and

I hope it was not too painful for you.

Part 3 is in progress,

in which Hood makes a dreadful mistake

and the Cycle is complete
