Part 11 (1/2)

'Maybe, if we walked on the cracks to spread our weight, they wouldn't drop, and even if they did we'd only have to step to one side to get clear.'

'Now I was waiting to see which one of you would think of that,'

said Qwaid.

As they got closer, the straggling green line that marked the edge of the plain resolved itself into tall gra.s.ses, fern bushes, and the more distant tops of trees, rising from what was presumably a valley that lay beyond. The last few slabs were speckled by moss and lichen, then replaced by a carpet of thick lush gra.s.s. It felt like walking on foam rubber after the hours of hard stone underfoot. Peri, still slightly damp from their time in the well, dropped gratefully to her knees and sprawled full length upon it, luxuriating in its soft coolness.

'Oh, wow, this is good. I'll never forget to water a lawn again!'

The others shed their packs and joined her.

After a few minutes she sat up, removed her boots and began ma.s.saging her feet. Still a little way out on the plain and about half a mile to their right she saw Thorrin's party also making for the strip of greenery.

'Think we should say h.e.l.lo?' she wondered.

”Their manner was a little standoffish this morning,' the Doctor observed. 'Somehow I don't think we'd be that welcome. In a sense we are rivals, after all.'

From the valley ahead of them came, faint but clear, a low moaning roar, which reverberated through the still air for several seconds. This was followed by a series of rapid guttural yelps, as though produced by several animals.

They all sprang to their feet, Falstaff's hand resting nervously on the pommel of his sword, while Jaharnus had drawn her gun.

The sounds continued for some minutes, then faded away, although Peri now became aware of occasional muted chattering cries.

The Doctor looked at the lowering sun and made a decision. 'I propose we make camp here. I think we've had enough challenges for one day.'

They all agreed. As Falstaff succinctly put it: 'Tomorrow is sufficient unto the day thereof. In any case, we cannot face unknown perils on an empty stomach.'

Night had fallen by the time Qwaid, Gribbs, and Drorgon finally stumbled on to the green strip of land that fringed the far side of the plain. They had travelled the last part of the way by the light of hand torches. Some distance along to their right was the firefly glimmer of the camp lights of one of the other questing parties, and Qwaid stared at it with intense interest.

He had a plan.

As they had trudged across the plain he had realised he couldn't rely on Gribbs coming up with dodges like that again.

Besides, he had to show that it was Crelly Qwaid who was making the smart decisions if he ever wanted to truly be the boss. They also needed some sort of advance notice of what was ahead of them so as not to be caught by surprise. The solution to both problems, when it dawned on him, was wonderfully simple.

'Get a couple of hours' sleep, boys,' he said confidently. 'We've got a busy night ahead of us.'

CHAPTER 10.

NIGHT MOVES.

Myra Jaharnus woke with a start, trying to place the dull thump that had roused her.

Overhead the stars were being obscured by a grey cloud, and for a moment she thought a bank of mist was rolling across the camp. Then the first tendrils touched her and she smelled a distinctive chemical tang. Blackout gas! She drew her gun even as her nostrils pinched tight and she clamped her lips shut. She could hold her breath for twenty minutes if need be. But despite the protective nictating membranes that instantly closed over her eyes, the gas burnt and stung, setting them watering. She heard the others shouting and a torch sprang into life, no more than a blurred fuzz of light through the tears and smoky haze.

From somewhere Falstaff was yelling at the top of his voice, 'Cowards! Wh.o.r.eson caterpillars! Fight like men! Take that, and that!'The camp was being attacked, but even if her firing reflex had not been inhibited by the Gelsandorans, she dare not risk a shot in these conditions.

She had an impression of a menacing figure, bulkier even than Falstaff, looming out of the murk towards her. Instinctively she twisted about, letting her bone-fringed tail cut an arc through the air at knee height. There was a cry of pain, a heavy body crashed into her, sending her sprawling, then it was gone. She heard a yell that sounded like Peri's voice being stifled. The torchlight vanished and with it a scramble of footsteps that faded away into the night. The veil of blackout gas slowly dispersed, allowing the stars to illuminate the camp once more.

Wiping her eyes, Myra got to her feet, felt around for her own torch, and snapped it on. In the middle of a patch of trampled gra.s.s and scattered bedrolls was Falstaff, still coughing and yelling curses. He had a hand over his eyes and was blindly charging about, swinging his sword in great wild sweeps, turning and running away a few steps in another direction at a half-crouch, then futilely hacking the air again.

'They've gone,' she said sharply, 'so you can cut the act now.'

He paused in mid-swing. 'Is that you, my good Inspector?'

'Who else?'

Cautiously he removed his hand from over his eyes, red-rimmed and streaming, and peered about him into the darkness.

Seeing no danger, he straightened up. 'Hah! So, the horde dared not stand against me, the pie-faced cowards!'

'Horde? It was Qwaid, Gribbs, and Drorgon. It had to be.'

'Nay, 't'was a dozen or perhaps a score, no less. But they cared not to taste my steel.'

'Somebody did,' Myra pointed out. 'There's blood on the blade. I hope it doesn't belong to the Doctor or Peri Brown.'

Falstaff looked at the glistening dark streaks on his sword with apparent astonishment, and Myra wondered if, for all his boasting, he'd ever actually drawn blood in combat before. Then his normal expression of b.u.mptious self-confidence returned.

'There, what did I tell you? You have nought to fear with Falstaff here. Now, we must set about to rescue our comrades. Perhaps I should remain to hold the camp while you make a reconnaissance -'

'Maybe, but let's look around here first.'

A quick search of the camp revealed that both the Doctor's and Peri's packs, were missing. They had been using them as pillows, as they all had, so the packs wouldn't have been hard for their abductors to s.n.a.t.c.h up in the confusion. This in itself was suggestive.

'Either they think they're going to need extra help at some point along the way, or they've taken them as hostages to use against me when this is all over,' Myra speculated. ”They'd probably have knocked us on the heads or slit our throats while they were at it if they'd had the chance, only we put up more of a fight than they were expecting.'

'But are we not going to attempt to rescue them?'

Myra did not comment on the 'we'. 'I doubt if blundering around in the dark would help, and I haven't got the right equipment anyway. They've had time to prepare this, and could be hiding anywhere along this boarder zone, or else already setting off down into the valley to get a head start. Besides, I don't think the Doctor and Peri are in any immediate danger.

Unless we can catch them unawares along the way, the best thing we can do is find this treasure first and let them come to us. Then we'll have something to bargain with. Otherwise, if they get there first, they won't need hostages any more.'

She realised that the DAVE drone that had been relentlessly trailing after them had moved closer as she had been speaking.

The cursed things were so easy to forget, and she wondered if the Gelsandoran influence would prevent her shooting it down. Wait a minute: surely it and its fellows must have seen everything.

'Dynes,' she said, addressing the flying camera 'I am making an official request for press cooperation, with the usual benefits for a successful outcome. Have you still got a drone with Qwaid's party? What have they done with the Doctor and Ms Brown?

Where have they taken them?'