‘Hush,’ said Mr Rune. ‘I believe that matters are now about to take a certain turn.’
‘Would that be a turn for the worse?’ I asked.
Hugo Rune nodded. ‘I fear that it would.’
I continued with my looking on. Actually, I had not ceased with it, what with there being naked women down there dancing around their handbags by a big bonfire. And me being a teenage male with no immediate shortage of testosterone.
The naked dancers ceased their dance and formed a joined-hands circle around the fire. Above them on a grassy knoll stood a single bare-naked lady. And I do have to say that she was far better looking than the rest. She was not all pinch-faced and skinny withal, she was simply gorgeous, all curves and beauty and long golden hair. And …
‘It is Kelly,’ I whispered. Although somewhat harshly. ‘It is Kelly Anna Sirjan. Mister Rune, it is her.’
‘Suggestive,’ said the Lad Himself. Which I found somewhat annoying.
‘All hail!’ cried the voice of Kelly Anna Sirjan. ‘All hail unto him.’
‘All hail!’ cried the pinch-faced bare-naked ladies. ‘All hail unto him.’
‘Tonight,’ cried Kelly, ‘we offer up our sacrifice, the token of our allegiance.’ At this, a couple of bare-skudded ladies that I had not previously noticed, because they must have been skulking about beyond the light of the bonfire, stepped forward, holding aloft the Michelin Man effigy of Mr Rune. ‘We ask that He who knows all – the past, the present and the future – will accept our sacrifice and grant to us knowledge, show unto us the location of that which we seek. That which will serve His cause. That which will give Him all-encompassing power upon this Earth.’
‘Is she talking about what I think she is talking about?’ I whispered to Mr Rune.
‘If you think she is talking about the location of the Chronovision, then you are correct,’ the Logos of the Aeon replied.
‘God, she looks great with her clothes off,’ I said.
‘God does not come into this,’ whispered Mr Rune.
‘I call upon His councillor to offer up this sacrifice,’ cried Kelly. ‘All prostrate yourselves before His councillor.’
‘His councillor?’ I asked.
‘Keep watching,’ said Mr Rune.
And I did so, and he appeared. Out of a puff of smoke. He was tall and gaunt and all in black, with an evil-looking black eye-patch as well.
‘Count Otto Black,’ I whispered, for it was he. ‘I was not expecting to see him again so soon.’
‘I told you,’ said Mr Rune. ‘We near the end of our quest.’
‘Why the eye-patch?’ I wondered.
‘I think because of the blow you dealt him with that wooden leg.’
‘Women of the Guild,’ shouted Count Otto Black, ‘thou of the Craft, I salute you.’ And he saluted them. ‘Tonight we will offer up the sacrifice to our Master and He will reward us. We will exact our revenge upon the hated one …’
‘That would be you, I suppose,’ I said to Mr Rune.
‘… and pave the way for the New Beginning,’ continued the Count. ‘When the Chronovision is under our control. When we can see into the hearts of any that we choose, view their pasts, know their most innermost secrets, acquire all knowledge. Then we will have ultimate control. This world will be ours, in His service.’
‘That would be Satan, I suppose,’ I said to Mr Rune. ‘He is a very bad lad, this Count Otto.’
‘By sacrifice of the hated one, he that stands between us and our goal, the Great Old One will, but for a moment, be able to enter this plane of existence and point out the location of that of which we speak. It’s all rather complicated, so I won’t go into it here, but it does involve the transperambulation of pseudo-cosmic anti-matter and things of that nature generally. It’s a ying and yang sort of jobbie. And these are the nineteen sixties.’
‘I could not have put it better myself,’ I said.
‘Please put a sock in it,’ said Hugo Rune.
‘Bring on the sacrifice!’ shouted Count Otto Black.
The bare-naked ladies carrying the effigy of Mr Rune raised it high.
And then a pair of pirates with great big guns appeared as if from nowhere to stand over us and pointed their great big guns down at Mr Rune and me.
‘The sacrifice,’ said one of them. The one who held his great big gun upon Mr Rune. ‘He that is required by His councillor.’
I looked at Mr Rune.
And Mr Rune looked at me.
‘That would be you,’ I said.
PART II
‘So, we meet again,’ said Count Otto Black. ‘And so soon.’
‘I thought that,’ I said. And the Count glared at me through his one seeing eye. ‘No offence meant,’ I continued.
‘And you,’ spat the Count, ‘you who did this to me.’
And he pointed to his eye-patch. And I said that I was sorry.
‘Sorry?’ The Count did some maniacal laughing. He was good at that, the Count. ‘You will know what sorry means, I can assure you of that.’
‘I already know what it means,’ I said. ‘Do not trouble yourself with any demonstrations.’
Count Otto Black now grinned heartily at Mr Rune. ‘How does this suit you?’ he asked. ‘I recall how upon our last meeting you told me that the difference between you and me was twofold – that I was evil and you were good, but that you understood how I thought, and not the other way about. What think you now upon this, Mister Rune? You walked straight into my trap, led here by your own vanity. You just had to see yourself burned in effigy. How sad is that?’
Mr Rune leaned upon his stout stick and breathed in rarefied air. I hoped that he might come out with some snappy James Bond-style rejoinder, but sadly, he did not. He just stood and stared at Count Otto Black.
‘Lost for words?’ crowed the Count. ‘The Great Hugo Rune? Logos of the Aeon, the All-Knowing One, the Cosmic Dick. Rune, whose eye is in the triangle, whose nose cuts through the ether, whose ear takes in the music of the spheres. Whose arse takes up three seats on the Clapham omnibus. Nothing to say at all?’
The firelight lit upon Mr Rune’s great face, for now we stood close to that fire. I thought to detect a look of gloom. Was this the look of defeat?
‘Just one thing,’ said Hugo Rune. ‘Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me, before you cast me into the flames?’
‘My pleasure,’ said Count Otto Black. ‘Speak on.’
‘Through my sacrifice you will learn the location of the Chronovision, am I correct?’
The Count stepped forward, rootled in my pockets and drew out my Ordnance Survey map. I might have put up a struggle over this, but a pirate had a pistol trained upon me. The Count unfolded the map, then held it up to the sky. ‘You are aware as to how it works, Rune,’ said he. ‘You are a magician, as I am. One gives in order to receive something in return. My Master cannot pass through the barrier that separates His dimension from this. But if I offer Him something he desires – your soul, Rune – then for an instant He can make Himself manifest in this dimension, and at that moment He will point out the location of that of which both you and I speak. It is your desire to find it that is the catalyst.’
‘And so upon the very moment of my death, this knowledge will be granted to you?’
‘The Gods are out there,’ said Count Otto Black, ‘all of the Gods, just beyond the veil, out there in the ether. They all crave power. Some of them have held power upon Earth, only to be overturned by others. Some have yet to be. My Master has yet to be.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Rune. ‘So your Master is not His Satanic Majesty?’
‘He had His go,’ said the Count. ‘He has not succeeded. Men are evil, certainly, but few actually worship Satan. He has little actual power upon this planet.’
‘Who, then, is your Master – or what?’
‘Another,’ said the Count, ‘one who exists within time, between the seconds. The one who speaks to me here.’ And the Count tapped at his temple.
‘One of whom you have no knowledge.’
‘Plah!’ said Mr Rune. ‘You are delusional, Black. A basket case, no less.’
‘Up with him!’ cried Count Otto Black. ‘Cast him into the flames.’
And bare-naked ladies took hold of Mr Rune and struggled to bear him aloft. His stout stick was torn from his hand and flung down to the ground. And although it took nearly all the bare-naked ladies to do it, they finally held him on high.
I looked over to Kelly, who stood on the grassy knoll.
‘Kelly,’ I shouted. ‘You cannot let this happen. You are not bad. Stop this if you can.’
‘And shut up, you.’ And Count Otto hit me, hard and to the head. ‘You damn near had my eye out, you little worm!’ he shouted. ‘You will be next into the flames.’
I looked up at Mr Rune and on high the big figure shrugged.
‘You are taking this very well,’ I said. ‘And that blighter really hurt me.’ And I rubbed my head.
‘Perk up, Rizla,’ said Mr Rune. ‘Matters will adjust themselves.’
‘That is easy for you to say,’ I said, ‘being held aloft and about to be thrown into a fire by a bunch of bare-naked devil-worshipping ladies. No, that does not make any sense at all. Sorry.’ And my hands began to flap and I began to spin around in small circles.
‘Cast the sacrifice into the flames!’ cried the Count.
And, held up as high as the bare ones could manage, Mr Rune suddenly groaned. He groaned and he clutched at his heart. And his mighty body went all-over limp and the bare-naked ladies struggled, then dropped him. Mr Rune hit the ground with a thunderous thump.
The sound of it made me feel sick. And certainly made me stop spinning.
And there he lay, all lifeless and broken-looking on the ground.
‘Enough of your party tricks, Rune.’ And Count Otto Black kicked him, dealing a hideous blow.
But Mr Rune did not flinch, did not shudder. He just lay there.
And then he twitched.
And then he trembled, his eyes rolled back and the death rattle rose from his throat.
‘Oh no!’ I shouted and I leaped forward with no care for the pistol-packing pirate.
I bent and I put my ear to Mr Rune’s chest. No heartbeat could I hear. ‘Oh no!’ I shouted once more. ‘He is dead, he has had a heart attack or something. Call for an ambulance.’
Count Otto Black laughed mightily, which I felt was very callous.
‘Do something!’ I shouted, and I took to beating on Mr Rune’s great chest with my fists.
And then all at once, a storm seemed to gather and lightning ripped through the heavens.
‘It is no trick!’ bawled the Count. ‘He is surely dead. To the fire with him.’
‘Leave him alone,’ I shouted, and raised my fists.
Count Otto laughed once again, and then he gripped my shoulders and hurled me aside and his bare-naked minions laid hands upon Mr Rune. And they sweated and they struggled, but they could not budge his dead weight by even an inch.
‘No matter.’ The Count now held the map aloft once more. ‘It is done. O Most High, the soul of the hated one now wings its way to You. Pass me the knowledge that I might prepare the way for Your coming.’
And as I looked on in considerable horror, the lightning struck like a laser beam, piercing a hole through the map.
‘Aha!’ The Count cackled and danced a bit, too. He veritably jigged. ‘I have it!’ he cried and he clutched the map to his bosom.
I stared down at Mr Rune and then stared up at Black and I was in some state of terror. Mr Rune was dead and Black had the map. The map with the neat hole through it. The hole that marked the secret location of the hidden Chronovision. There were tears in my eyes and I trembled and shook. The Count did a soft-shoe shuffle.
Though Mr Rune’s heart had ceased to beat, mine was beating faster than ever. My pulse pounded drumbeats in my ears. And these were the drums of war.
He had known. Mr Rune had known that he might die this night, and he had made me swear to continue the quest should he not be able to continue it himself. And this dancing monster before me, this fiend in human form, it was he who had caused Mr Rune’s death and he who now held the map to his chest and he who would kill me, too, cast me alive to the flames.
I rose with a roar and as I rose I sighted Mr Rune’s stout stick. I snatched it up and I swung it, swung it as hard as I could. And I caught that blackguard a harder blow than I had with the wooden leg. And as he fell I snatched at the map and ripped it from his fingers.
The Count fell down on top of Mr Rune and the bare-naked ladies advanced upon me. And the pirates with their pistols.
‘Stop,’ I told them, ‘all of you. Stop, or I do this.’ And I held out the map towards the bonfire flames. ‘I will burn it. I will.’
The bare-naked ladies made horrible sounds, like the growlings of spaniels in heat.
‘Drop those guns,’ I told the pirates. ‘Drop those guns or I throw the map in the fire.’ The pirates actually dropped their guns. ‘And all of you back away.’
They did not want to do it, those witches of the Chiswick Towns-women’s Guild. They wanted to tear me limb-piece from limb-piece. And then probably eat me, too.
‘Go on,’ I shouted, and there was madness in my voice. ‘Back away now. It will not go well for you if the Count should awaken to find that the map has been destroyed and that it was all your fault.’
And they backed away, growling and spitting.
‘Kelly,’ I called out. ‘Kelly, come down from that grassy knoll.’ But Kelly would not come down.
‘As you please, then,’ I said. ‘And goodbye.’
And then I ran. Oh, I can tell you that I ran as fast as I could away from that fire and away from those women. I ran away and away.
They did not follow me at first, but then I did not expect them to. It had occurred to me that they would probably want to get their frocks back on before they pursued me through the busy streets of Lewes.
Although I had read in the Leader that the waiters from Eat Your Food Nude had formed a naturist bonfire society for this year’s event. So it was possible that the witches might have been able to blend in with them.
Though probably not that probable.
But those ladies did know how to get dressed fast, for I had not got all that far before I heard them in pursuit. I could not see them because it was dark, but I could certainly hear them.
And they certainly knew how to run, for they were shortly close upon my fleeing heels. ‘I will burn it,’ I shouted back to them as I ran. But as I lacked for any fire, my threat must have sounded hollow.
Old Laz would have come up with something. And being in darkness he could have been anywhere within the remit of his four locations. And something unexpected would have occurred, to come to his aid, something that had been mentioned in an earlier chapter, as a throw-away aside, or so it would have seemed at the time, but which was really significant when it came to the crunch.
Well, that is how he would have done it. Which was why I wished I was him.
And then as I ran around a corner I was almost run down by a car that was coming up the hill as I was running down. I bounced over the bonnet and came to rest in a heap. The car ground to a sudden halt, a window lowered and a face looked down at me.
‘Are you all right?’ asked the mouth in this face.
‘Far from it,’ I said.
‘Then let me help you up.’
And I could hear those growling women growing ever closer.
‘No,’ I shouted and I jumped up and I climbed into his car, sort of over the top of him, as it happened, and I dropped down into the passenger seat. ‘Back up,’ I told him, ‘back up now. Do it if you want to live.’
‘I don’t want to back up,’ the driver told me. ‘I’m going this way.’
‘This way is a dead end,’ I told him. ‘It only leads up to the castle ruins. Oh, damn.’
And the women were upon us. They drumm
ed upon the sides of the car. I slammed down the lock on my door. ‘I would do yours, too, if I were you,’ I told the driver. And he did.
‘Tell these mad women to get off my car,’ the driver said to me. ‘It’s a classic Morris Minor. Nought to thirty in eight point seven seconds. It even has the original screw-type jack and nine-inch tommy bar. I purchased it in Saltdean thirteen years ago. I call it “The Stallion”.’
‘The Saltdean Stallion,’ I said. ‘Well this was not what I was expecting.’
‘My name is Norris Styver, by the way.’
And that name rang a bell.
‘You’re the man,’ I shouted, for there was quite a din now and the women had ripped off the windscreen wipers. ‘The man in the urban myth, who drives for ever around the one-way system, trying to get out of Lewes.’
‘I’m no urban myth,’ said Norris. ‘And if you are all right then I’m glad. I’m very pleased to meet you,’ and he put out his hand for a shake. ‘What is your name, by the way?’
‘Just back up,’ I shouted at him, ‘or we will both die here. Back up.’
‘If it really is a dead end,’ said Norris, ‘then I suppose I will. Get off my car, you mad women!’ he shouted. ‘Look what you’ve done to my windscreen wipers.’ And he hooted his horn. And then he put the Morris into reverse. The Morris was rocking all over the place under the women’s assault but reverse worked okay and we were soon travelling backwards. Although not as fast as I might have wished.
There were women on the roof and on the bonnet. Others jogged along on either side, swiping at the windows with their handbags.
I dragged the driving wheel to the left, hoping to grind at least a couple of them into one of the dry-stone walls that bordered the narrow road.
‘Don’t do that,’ said Norris. ‘Someone might get hurt.’
‘These women are witches,’ I told him, ‘and they have just killed my bestest friend.’
‘Well, in that case, we’ll report them to the police. There’s a police station in town. I’ve passed by it many many times.’
‘Have you never thought of buying yourself a map and taking things really, really slowly?’ I asked him.
‘You want me to slow down?’