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my servants to be present with me. Ian, my aged servant.
and my handmaiden.’
‘It shall be arranged,’ Tlotoxl said without expression,
‘both the men and your handmaiden will he there. That I
promise.’
As the High Priest of Sacrifice limped from the temple
with Tonila at his side, Barbara sensed she had made a
mistake somewhere. She went over their conversation
several times in her head and then summoned the High
Priest of Knowledge to the temple.
Autloc’s face was grave as he listened to Barbara’s
account of her encounter with Tonila and the High Priest
of Sacrifice.
‘Tlotoxl insisted you upheld such bestial treatment. Is
that true?’ she asked.
‘Is it still your intention to intervene at the sacrifice of
the Perfect Victim?’ Autloc countered.
‘Of course, it is,’ Barbara said firmly.
‘Then I shall match your courage, Yetaxa,’ he replied,
‘though it grieves my heart, as it must yours.’
‘I’ll shed no tears over an end to human sacrifice.’
Barbara was resolute.
‘I was referring to your handmaiden,’ Autloc explained.
‘What about Susan?’ Barbara asked sharply.
Autloc was perplexed. ‘You have just spoken of her
offence.’
Barbara jumped to her feet. ‘Susan was to be the bride?’
she exclaimed.
‘Did not Tlotoxl say so?’
So that had been the trap, Barbara thought, a deliberate
omission on Tlotoxl’s part and a stupid one on hers.
‘I shall forbid the punishment.’
‘You cannot,’ Autloc replied flatly.
‘Oh yes, I can!’ she said fiercely. ‘Susan is to be
punished at the eclipse so when you and I stop the human
sacrifice then I will order Tlotoxl to release her as well.’
Autloc shook his head. ‘She is to be punished before the
sacrifice to the Sun God.’
‘I won’t let him harm her, I won’t!’ Barbara’s voice was
final.
The High Priest looked at her. ‘Will you, then, sacrifice
all you believe in, all you have given me to believe, to save
your handmaiden pain?’
Barbara had no answer.
11
Crawl, Swim, Climb
The moon was full and rode high in the star-studded sky as
Ian slipped out of his quarters and crossed the courtyard
silently and swiftly to the entrance. He wore only a
warrior’s loin-cloth and sandals, with a short stabbing
sword slung on his hip. He opened the door, and sidled
along the passageway which led to the main barracks. Ixta
sneaked out of his quarters and followed him.
All was quiet as Ian hurried across the main courtyard
to the gates at the far end. Ixta stayed in the shadow of the
barrack-room walls while he stalked Ian, who went out
onto the deserted streets and along the broad avenue which
led to the pyramid and, behind it, the garden where the
Doctor waited impatiently. Keeping his distance, Ixta
followed.
Ian reached the door in the garden wall, but before he
opened it he glanced up and down the avenue. Ixta ducked
into the shadows of the pyramid and pressed himself
against the side. Ian stepped into the garden and came face
to face with the Doctor.
‘I was beginning to worry about you, Chesterton,’ he
muttered.
‘I waited until I knew the coast would be clear,’ Ian
murmured.
‘So no one saw you,’ the Doctor kept his voice down.
‘No,’ Ian replied softly.
‘There’s no one in the garden, either,’ the Doctor hissed.
’Then why are we whispering’?’ Ian asked out loud.
‘Quite right, quite right,’ the Doctor replied, and led Ian
to the back wall, pulled aside the bougainvillea and showed
him the carved snake on the stone. ‘I’ve tried to move it,
but it didn’t budge an inch,’ the Doctor said.
‘Let me have a go.’ Ian squatted down in front of the
stone, unsheathed his stabbing sword and scraped the
surrounds of the stone with the tip. ‘Hardened clay,’ he
said. Some of the chippings came away, and he thrust the
sword blade in deeper and deeper until it was up to the
hilt. Then be began sawing away at the clay. As he did he
felt the stone give. ‘You’re right, Doctor, look, the edges
are bevelled to you can get a grip on them.’ He showed the
Doctor the slanted sides. ‘But it’ll take a few minutes to
clear it.’
‘We’re not pressed for time, dear boy – not yet,’ the
Doctor replied.
Ixta watched the whole operation with great interest
from behind a shrub.
When Ian had cleaned all the clay from around the
stone, he could just manage to grip the bevelled sides with
his fingertips. He put the sword back in its sheath and
glanced up at the Doctor.
‘Here goes,’ he said, squeezing his fingertips against
both sides he tried to pull the stone towards him. To his
surprise it slid out easily and he could soon put his hands
underneath it. ‘No wonder,’ he remarked, ‘it’s greased,’ and
he lifted out the stone and laid it on the ground. He peered
into the hole. ‘It looks like a manhole to a tunnel, but I
can’t see very well.’
The Doctor took the pencil-torch from his breast pocket
and handed it to Ian. ‘Use that,’ he said.
Ian shone the torch into the hole and explained that
there was a six foot drop to the bottom of the tunnel which [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]