Time Rocks

  *

  I woke one morning to find Blaith and most of the men had left early. Farldant was snoring as happy as a pig in mast. His wife told me the men had gone to the great sea. They would be away several days. Farldant had been on the magic mushrooms the night before and was badly hung over. I shook him with my foot. His wife was jabbering and signing something I didn't understand, and old Farldant was not budging.

  ‘Blaith go at sunrise?’ I asked her, pointlessly since she didn’t speak English. ‘Blaith – dro – kufth – boredith?’ which I hoped meant…, Blaith go sunrise daybreak?

  ‘Doh, doh,’ she nodded her head. ‘Boredith, dro ayg.’

  ‘To the sea?‘ I asked, mimicking the sound of waves. Again she nodded.

  Farldant woke up finally. He sat rubbing his eyes, farted and groaned as if about to expire. ‘We go. Find Blaith,’ I yelled at him.

  I could stay here without Blaith, but Farldant had a habit of disappearing for a couple days at a time. I think he had a girlfriend hidden somewhere, and kept slipping away to visit her for a bit of hanky panky. Obviously, I daren’t risk staying in the city with him, if he was going to keep vanishing. Serren could make his move on me while old Farldant was doing the horizontal tango with his girlfriend and that would be curtains for me. The safest thing was to set off after Blaith and catch him up. They could not be very far away, and even if I didn’t find them I would feel safer away from the city and I could just stay away until Blaith and his men came back.

  ‘They left at dawn,’ I told Farldant. ‘We can catch them up.’

  His woman nodded her head excitedly and jabbered at him. I think she was agreeing with me. She seemed as keen as I was to get him on the road. It was not until I noticed a young man paying very close attention to our conversation from the back of the room that I realised why that may be so. Boy, d'you know what - I tell you, these people are at it all of the time, all over the place. Still I guess they have to make the most of it, they don't live that long. Farldant is an old man and he's only about thirty-five.

  About half an hour later, we left the big house. Farldant’s wife was running a bone comb through her hair, and smiling coquettishly at the young guy in the shadows almost before we were of the house. Old Farldant was so hung over he could barely walk, let alone spot his wife sparking another bloke. He was also too out of it to track anybody, so I had to do it. Luckily, with the dew still heavy on the ground, it was not difficult. I soon picked up the hunting party’s trail.

  Tell the truth, I’m not bad at tracking these days, and I enjoyed showing off to old Farldant. I pointed out patches of scuffed earth, smudged dew trails, small stones turned over to reveal their undersides, broken twigs, and the disturbed nap of the grass caused by passing feet. He trudged along grumpily beside me, ignoring me most of the time. I was glad to have him there though. He was a giant in many ways. Nothing scared him, and his big, generous heart was on my side. I found out he had a son who died and I think he likes teaching me stuff because of that. I know what that's like – especially since my dad – you know …

  Blaith was using deer trails through the thickly forested terrain. It was easy tracking and comfortable walking. The trials weave to and fro, and frequently connected with the river at crossing places, mud wallows, and drinking beaches. It was not long before we came upon them in a clearing. Blaith and all his men were laid out in the sun having a snooze.

  Farldant laughed, pointing at them. I joined in, thinking of the stories of hardship that they would tell their women on their return; tales of danger and courage on the trek to the coast, but no mention of snoozing in the morning sunshine.

  Then I saw something that was impossible and my legs gave way under me. I felt sick and weak. Farldant helped me back to my feet, his face riven with concern.

  I pointed at Blaith. 'Edrik.' Look.

  Farldant turned his gaze to Blaith's prostrate figure. His eyes widened with horror. He did not know that the wound he saw in the middle of Blaith’s brawny chest was a bullet hole. He could have no concept of the destructive power of the weapon that had killed his friend and leader. He just gazed silently, tears glossing his eyes.

  I checked every man. They had all been shot. Their bodies were still warm, the bloody wounds still liquid, yet we had heard nothing. Most had been shot in the head, except Blaith who looked as though he had put up a fight.

  Farldant spotted that Blaith was still breathing. He lifted his shoulders off the grass and cradled him on his arm, his big hand flapping over him helplessly like a dying bird. They spoke to each other, Blaith’s tone urgent and desperate. Farldant’s voice was warm and loving. Blaith opened his eyes and spoke to me. ‘De Lued dun yr un ty. Tan beru. Tan beru.’

  I turned to Farldant. ‘He’s saying two men?’ I queried, and held up two fingers. ‘Two err- De dun? Two men? Moon men same-like me? Lued dun ur un fy? Tan beru, - err - Fire sticks? Guns? Tan beru?’

  ‘Tan beru,’ Blaith repeated with his dying breath.

  ‘Two men like me, modern men with guns, killed them.’

  Farldant nodded and lowered his friend onto the dew wet grass.

  Sunlight lit the trees as if from inside each leaf. Birdsong filled the forest, the scent of honeysuckle carried on a gentle breeze, and eight men I had known closely, lived with, and hunted with, were dead. The only reason for their deaths was that they had known me.

  ‘We talk Serren,' Farldant said. 'Warn him. We talk him this. We talk him fast,’

  ‘Yes, we must warn him,’ I agreed. ‘We’ll go back - send men for their bodies.’

  We ran back to the city. It was about six miles, but no effort to me at all. In the weeks I had been in this world my fitness and strength had improved to athletic standards. But, like the rest of the people of the city on the river bend, I was no match for men with guns. The only difference was, only I knew how much trouble we were in.

  We found Serren waiting outside the circular temple. He looked spectacular in his ceremonial painted leather cloak and a large headdress of ivy tresses with a real wolf skin face mask on the front, its eyes blank gaping holes.

  Farldant told him about Blaith. Serren was impassive and calmly invited us into the holy temple, an honour I never expected. He led the way, stepping with regal formality into the darkness. I followed Farldant between the huge carved door post figures of the evil looking earth mother. The filth smeared on her belly and breasts each day by the monks of her sect dripped its stink into a shallow gulley across the threshold. A seething, iridescent mass of bluebottles took flight as we passed between the rank pillars.

  We entered a dimly lit area that smelled of damp earth, faeces, and sweat. Monks stood with their backs to the outer wall, their eyes hidden behind greasy tresses woven with ivy under headdresses of animal fur. The area was filled with concentric rings of wooden pillars. Some bore paintings of animal faces, others stylised drawings of jagged lightning flashes, spirals, daisy flowers or explicit sexual imagery. The only light came from the central hole in the lofty roof. A thick shaft of sunlight leaned into the building, painting a bright oval slightly to one side of the ceremonial centre of the earthen floor.

  Two uniformed men stepped from the darkness into the sunlight. I recognised the Time Wand each one carried in a holster strapped to his hip. They both had assault rifles which they cocked and trained on me, projecting little dots of red light on to my chest.

  Farldant looked at the rifles and turned to me. ‘Tan beru?’ he asked softly.

  I nodded, raising a hand before him to signal that he should not move.

  ‘You must be Jack Shire,’ said one of the men. ‘Good to see you. Step over here, Jack. We’re taking you home.’

  I signalled that Farldant should move behind a pillar. He looked at me with a confused expression, then at Serren who was watching smugly. The monks around the edge of the temple were jumpy and tense. Some had slipped behind pillars from where they peered out fearfully.

  It became obvious to me th
at they would shoot Farldant as soon as I moved away from him. ‘Don’t kill him,’ I pleaded. ‘He can’t hurt you. Let him leave us.’

  I turned to my friend. ‘Dro adraif! Dro!.’ I urged him. Go home! Go!

  One of the time travellers stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. Farldant looked about defiantly, bravely taking stance to fight.

  A short burst of gunfire blew him backwards from his exploding heart, as the circular temple's walls vanished around me.

  ………