gns.thedruidconnection-第29部分

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n't　be　going　anywhere；　that　much　was　certain。
　　
　　Sabat　had　learned　the　art　of　relaxing；　inducing　sleep　in　the　most　unpromising　situations。　He　also　knew　that　he　would　wake　to　within　a　minute　or　two　of　midday。　SAS　training　again；　his　own　system　more　reliable　than　any　alarm　clock；　perfect　co…ordination　of　mind　and　body　even　when　sleeping。
　　
　　So　far；　so　good。　His　plans　were　working　out　and　now　he　needed　to　rest；　to　re…charge　his　mind　and　body　for　the　terrible　ordeal　which　lay　ahead。　For　tonight　he　would　take　on　the　ancient　druids　in　their　own　kingdom：　Stonehenge；　the　most　powerful　temple　of　the　old　religion　where　the　spirits　of　the　long　dead　priests　lived　on。
　　
　　Lola　woke　sometime　during　the　late　morning；　eased　herself　off　the　bed　and　began　to　dress。　Last　night　seemed　like　a　dream　yet　she　knew　it　had　been　reality。　She　still　felt　the　touch　of　the　man　called　Sabat；　his　kisses；　everything　he　had　done　to　her。　Tingling　with　anticipation；　for　tonight　they　would　meet　again。　She　heard　his　voice；　like　one　of　those　catchy　tunes　which　you　can't　get　out　of　your　head；　driving　you　crazy；　only　she　didn't　want　to　get　Sabat's　voice　out　of　her　head。　She　thrilled　to　his　soft　yet　manding　tones；　knew　that　she　would　obey　his　instructions　implicitly。
　　
　　She　went　downstairs；　restlessly　began　to　wander　about　the　house；　pacing　up　and　down　in　the　hall。　How　long　before　Darren　got　back？　Oh　God；　suppose　he　didn't　e；　stopped　over　in　London　another　night。　。　。　。　Her　stomach　churned。　The　thought　was　too　terrible　to　contemplate。　If　that　happened；　then　she　would　have　let　Sabat　down　and　that　was　unthinkable。
　　
　　Her　fears　mounted；　kneeling　up　on　a　chair　at　the　window；　biting　her　fingernails　like　an　anxious　schoolgirl；　listening　for　every　car　that　turned　into　the　road；　hopes　raised　and　dashed。　Until　finally　Darren　Hurst's　Jaguar　swung　into　the　drive。
　　
　　Lola　had　the　front　door　open；　awaiting　him。　He　looked　tired；　dishevelled　as　he　climbed　out　of　the　car；　a　very　worn　and　weary　Greek　god　for　whom　the　sands　of　time　were　running　out。
　　
　　'You　okay？'　He　eyed　her　up；　noticed　a　vacant　expression　in　those　usually　searching　pale　blue　eyes。　'Nothing　happened　while　I've　been　away？　I　tried　to　phone　you　last　night　but　I　couldn't　get　anything　except　the　unobtainable　tone。'
　　
　　'We　have　to　go　down　to　Wiltshire；'　words　like　carefully　learned　lines　ing　from　her　soft　red　lips。　To　Stonehenge。　Both　of　us。'
　　
　　'What！'　Darren　Hurst　stared　in　disbelief。　'Are　you　feeling　all　right；　Lola？　We're　not　going　anywhere。'
　　
　　'Yes；　we　are；'　her　tone　was　suddenly　like　a　whiplash；　a　spoiled　child　defying　a　parent。　'Bishop　Boyce　telephoned。　He　is　going　also。　Unless　you　meet　him　there　tonight；　and　he　insists　that　you　take　me　along　with　you；　then　the　whole　deal　is　likely　to　fall　through。　We　have　to　be　there　by　midnight。'
　　
　　'This　is　sheer　lunacy！*　Darren　strode　towards　the　phone　on　the　carved　dolphin　hall　table。　'I've　never　heard　anything　like　it　in　my　life。　We've　no　time　to　play　silly　games；'　he　said；　dialling　frantically。　Til　soon　put　a　stop　to　this。　I'll　bloody　well　find　out　what　the　bugger's　up　to！'
　　
　　Lola　watched　him　expressionlessly；　knew　that　this　was　what　he　would　do。　She　heard　him　talking；　no；　the　bishop　wasn't　available。　He　had　left　early　this　morning　without　saying　where　he　was　going。　He　frequently　went　away　without　advising　his　staff　of　his　whereabouts。　Yes；　they　would　be　pleased　to　leave　a　message　for　him　on　his　return。
　　
　　Darren　Hurst　dropped　the　receiver　back；　turned　to　Lola　with　a　look　of　incredulity　on　his　face。　'The　bishop's　not　there。　They　don't　know　where　he's　gone。'
　　
　　'Of　course　they　don't；'　her　expression　was　one　of　I…could…have…told…you…that；　'he's　already　left　for　Stonehenge。　We　need　to　start　within　the　hour。'
　　
　　'Jesus　Christ　Almighty！'　the　builder　raised　his　eyes　skywards；　clenched　his　fists　in　a　show　of　frustration。　'Is　everybody　going　stark　raving　bloody　mad？　We're　in　the　middle　of　some　inexplicable　crisis　and　all　Boyce　can　e　up　with　is　a　trip　to　Stonehenge。'
　　
　　'But　we　have　to　go　just　the　same；　whether　you　like　it　or　not；'　she　watched　him　closely；　anxiously。　'And　he　insisted　that　I　came　along　with　you。'
　　
　　'I　shall　certainly　have　something　to　say　to　him　about　this；'　Hurst　muttered；　'unless　there's　a　very　good　reason　for　it。　I　suppose　we　don't　have　any　choice。　Make　some　coffee　and　a　few　sandwiches　and　then　we'll　have　to　make　a　start　if　we're　going　to　get　there　by　midnight。　I　bloody　ask　you；　this　is　like　some　crazy　game　we　used　to　play　when　we　were　kids：　secret　rendezvous　and　all　that　kind　of　crap。'
　　
　　Lola　turned　away；　smiled　to　herself。　She　had　not　failed　Sabat；　he　would　be　well　pleased；　and　he　would　reward　her　the　way　she　wanted　him　to。
　　
　　Sabat　awoke；　stirred；　and　glanced　at　his　watch。　It　was　time　to　make　a　start；　checking　first　to　make　sure　that　Kent　was　okay。　The　Fleet　Street　man　grinned　inanely　at　him　but　made　no　move　to　rise　to　his　feet。　Next　Sabat　removed　the　string　triangle；　found　a　scowling　Bishop　Boyce　sitting　on　the　edge　of　the　bed　in　the　spare　room。
　　
　　'You　locked　me　in！'
　　
　　'No；'　Sabat　smiled。　'There's　neither　lock　nor　bolt　on　these　cheap　modern　doors。　Suffice　to　say　I　secured　the　door　by　a　means　which　I　won't　go　into　because　you　probably　wouldn't　believe　me　and；　anyway；　I　haven't　time　to　explain。　I　shall　have　to　ask　you　to　assist　me　with　getting　Kent　into　the　car。'
　　
　　'It　seems　I　have　no　choice。'
　　
　　'Quite　honestly；　you　don't。'
　　
　　Boyce　followed　Sabat　into　the　room　where　the　pentagram　was；　watched　as　he　gathered　up　the　chalices；　picked　up　the　sword。　'Now；　if　we　both　take　an　arm　I　think　Kent　will　acpany　us　out　to　the　car　quite　amicably。'
　　
　　A　strange　threesome　which　to　a　casual　observer　might　have　been　two　men　giving　a　sick　friend　a　lift　to　hospital。　Kent　flopped　on　the　back　seat；　almost　rolled　off；　laughed　and　began　to　chatter　unintelligibly　again。
　　
　　'I　suppose　we've　got　to　put　up　with　that　all　the　way；'　the　bishop　was　sullen；　hoisting　his　huge　bulk　into　the　front　passenger　seat。
　　
　　'Which　isn't　exactly　a　Christian　outlook；'　Sabat　pressed　the　starter；　adjusted　his　seat…belt。　Tonight　the　lame　shall　walk；　Bishop；　believe　you　me。　Though　God　only　knows　how　the　rest　of　us　will　finish　up！'
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　FIFTEEN
　　　
　　SABAT　FELT　fresh　in　spite　of　the　long　drive。　Soon　after　they　had　passed　through　Oxford；　Boyce's　head　lolled　forward；　his　bulk　slumped　against　the　door。　Sleeping　heavily；　so　that　even　when　the　Daimler　took　a　sharp　right…hand　bend　too　fast　and　jerked　him　back；　he　did　not　wake。　He　was　physically　and　mentally　spent。
　　
　　Kent　was　silent；　too；　but　a　glance　behind　him　told　Sabat　that　the　journalist　was　not　asleep；　just　staring　vacantly　up　at　the　roof　as　though　he　was　totally　unaware　that　they　had　embarked　upon　a　lengthy　journey。
　　
　　Swindon。　Marlborough。　Amesbury。　Signs　for　Stonehenge　now；　a　deserted　road　that　a　few　hours　earlier　would　have　been　packed　with　tourist　cars。　The　irony　of　it　al！；　Sabat　reflected；　was　that　few　of　those　visiting　the　ancient　druid　site　realised　how　'alive'　it　still　was。　That　was　a　sign　of　the　twentieth　century；　everybody　so　unresponsive；　wrapped　up　in　themselves。
　　
　　He　pulled　the　Daimler　off　the　road；　edged　it　between　a　grove　of　birch　trees。　As　he　switched　off　the　engine　and　lights　the　silence　seemed　to　e　at　him　like　a　cold　black　wave；　enveloping　him　with　one　brief　moment　of　terror。　He　tensed；　almost　threw　up　his　arms　to　ward　off　an　attack　of　some　kind；　then　relaxed。　Just　a　warning；　just　to　let　him　know　they　were　here。
　　
　　'Where's　Stonehenge？'　Bishop　Boyce　stirred；　unclipped　his　seatbelt。　'Or　is　this　more　trickery？'
　　
　　'About　half　a　mile　up　the　road；'　Sabat　found　himself　whispering　as　though　he　was　afraid　of　being　overheard。　'But　we're　going　across　country。　About　three　quarters　of　a　mile；　I'd　say。'
　　
　　'Why　can't　we　go　all　the　way　in　the　car？'　the　big　man　was　always　reluctant　to　walk　where　it　was　possible　to　drive。　'It's　nonsense　walking　the　long　way　round。'
　　
　　'I　think　it's　best　we　leave　the　car　here；'　Sabat's　tone　was　abrupt。　'Now　I'll　have　to　ask　you　to　give　me　a　hand　with　Kent　again。'
　　
　　It　was　amazing　how　bright　the　starlight　was；　sparkling　in　the　cold　night　air　as　though　the　late　spring　was　determined　to　inflict　one　last　frost　upon　the　countryside　before　surrendering　to　summer　warmth。　With　some　difficulty　they　got　Kent　out　of　the　car；　supporting　him　on　either　side；　walking　him　along　with　them。
　　
　　'D'you　really　need　to　cart　that　sword　everywhere　you　go；　Sabat？'　the　Bishop　grunted。　This　is　getting　more　foolish　by　the　hour。　I　warn　you；　if　this　is　some　kind　of　trick。　。　。　。　'
　　
　　'It　isn't；'　Sabat　snapped。　'e　on；　it's　twenty　minutes　to　midnight。　We　don't　have　any　time　to　waste。'
　　
　　A　shambling　silent　procession　across　uneven　grassland；　even　Kent　appearing　to　sense　the　urgency　of　this　mission；　moving　his　feet　in　an　ungainly　style　as　he　tried　to　walk；　but　without　the　others　he　would　never　have　made　it。
　　
　　Silhouettes。　Skeletal　upright　structures；　towering　pillars　of　ancient　strength　that　peted　with　modern　architecture；　silent　giants　o