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mpsed more than once。 In the instant of darkness between one light…burst and the next the entire scene would change。 One moment she was standing on an open road with a naked girl running toward her； bawling。 The next； on a hillside looking down on a razed valley； snatched through a pall of smoke。 Now a silver birch copse； now not。 Now a ruin； with a headless man at her feet； again； not。 But always the fires somewhere near； the smuts and the shrieks dirtying the air； the sense of relentless pursuit。 She felt it could go on forever； these scenes changing before her…one moment a landscape； the next an atrocity…without her having time to correlate the disparate images。
Then； as abruptly as the first patterns had ceased； the fires did also； and the darkness was everywhere about her again。
〃Where？〃 Marty's voice found her。 He was so agitated in his confusion； she answered him。
〃I'm almost dead；〃 she said； quite calmly。
〃Carys？〃 He was terrified that naming her would alert Mamoulian； but he had to know if she spoke for herself； or for him。
〃Not Carys；〃 she replied。 Her mouth seemed to lose its fullness； the lips thinning。 It was Mamoulian's mouth； not hers。
She raised her hand a little way from her lap as if making to touch her face。
〃Almost dead；〃 she said again。 〃Lost the battle； you see。 Lost the whole bloody war 。 。 。〃 〃Which war？〃 〃Lost from the beginning。 Not that it matters； eh？ Find myself another war。 There's always one around。〃 〃Who are you？〃 She frowned。 〃What's it to you？〃 she snapped at him。 〃None of your business。〃 〃It doesn't matter；〃 Marty returned。 He feared pushing the interrogation too hard。 As it was； his question was answered in the next breath。
〃My name's Mamoulian。 I'm a sergeant in the Third Fusiliers。 Correction： was a sergeant。〃 〃Not now？〃 〃No； not now。 I'm nobody now。 It's safer to be nobody these days； don't you think？〃 The tone was eerily conversational； as though the European knew exactly what was happening； and had chosen to talk with Marty through Carys。 Another game； perhaps？
〃When I think of the things I've done；〃 he said； 〃to stay out of trouble。 I'm such a coward； you see？ Always have been。 Loathe the sight of blood。〃 He began to laugh in her； a solid； unfeminine laugh。
〃You're just a man？〃 Marty said。 He could scarcely credit what he was being told。 There was no Devil hiding in the European's cortex； just this half…mad sergeant； lost on some battlefield。 〃Just a man？〃 he said again。
〃What did you want me to be？〃 the sergeant replied； quick as a flash。 〃I'm happy to oblige。 Anything to get me out of this shit。〃 〃Who do you think you're talking to？〃 The sergeant frowned with Carys〃 face； puzzling this one out。
〃I'm losing my mind；〃 he said dolefully。 〃I've been talking to myself for days now on and off。 There's no one left； you see？ The Third's been wiped out。 And the Fourth。 And the Fifth。 All blown to Hell！〃 He stopped and pulled a wry face。 〃Got no one to play cards with； damn it。 Can't play with dead men； can I？ They've got nothing I want 。 。 。〃 The voice trailed away。
〃What date is it？〃 〃Sometime in October； isn't it？〃 the sergeant came back。 〃I've lost track of time。 Still； it's fucking cold at night； I tell you that much。 Yes； must be October at least。 There was snow in the wind yesterday。 Or was it the day before？〃 〃What year is it？〃 The sergeant laughed。 〃I'm not that far gone；〃 he said。 〃It's 1811。 That's right。 I'm thirty…two on the ninth of November。 And I don't look a day over forty。〃 It was 1811。 If the sergeant was answering truthfully that made Mamoulian two centuries old。
〃Are you sure？〃 Marty asked。 〃The year is 1811； you're certain？〃 〃Shut your mouth！〃 the answer came。
〃What？〃 〃Trouble。〃 Carys had drawn her arms up against her chest； as though constricted。 She felt enclosed…but by what she wasn't certain。 The open road she'd been standing on had abruptly disappeared； and now she sensed herself lying down； in darkness。 It was warmer here than it had been on the road； but not a pleasant heat。 It smelled putrid。 She spat； not once but three or four times； to rid herself of a mouthful of muck。 Where was she； for God's sake？
Close by she could hear the approach of horses。 The sound was muffled； but it made her； or rather the man she occupied； panic。 Off to her right； somebody moaned。
〃Ssh 。 。 。〃 she hissed。 Didn't the moaner hear the horses too？ They'd be discovered； and though she didn't know why； she was certain discovery would prove fatal。
〃What's happening？〃 Marty asked。
She didn't dare reply。 The horsemen were too close to dare a word。 She could hear them dismounting and approaching her hiding place。 She repeated a prayer； soundlessly。 The riders were talking now； they were soldiers； she guessed。 An argument had erupted among them as to who would tackle some distasteful duty。 Maybe； she prayed； they'd give up their search before they started。 But no。 The debate was over； and they were grunting and plaining as several set about their labors。 She heard them moving sacks； and flinging them down。 A dozen； two dozen。 Light seeped through to where she lay； scarcely breathing。 More sacks were moved； more light fell on her。 She opened her eyes； and finally recognized what refuge the sergeant had chosen。
〃God Almighty；〃 she said。
They weren't sacks she lay among； but bodies。 He had hidden himself in a mound of corpses。 It was the heat of putrefaction that made her sweat。
Now the hillock was being taken apart by the horsemen； who were pricking each of the bodies as they were hauled from the heap； in order to distinguish living from dead。 The few who still breathed were pointed out to the officer。 He dismissed them all as past the point of no return； they were swiftly dispatched。 Before a bayonet could pierce his hide； the sergeant rolled over and showed himself。
〃I surrender；〃 he said。 They jabbed him through the shoulder anyway。 He yelled。 Carys too。
Marty reached to touch her； her face was scrawled with pain。 But he thought better of interfering at what was clearly a vital juncture： it might do more harm than good。
〃Well； well；〃 said the officer； high on the horse。 〃You don't look very dead to me。〃 〃I was practicing；〃 the sergeant replied。 His wit earned him a second jab。 To judge by the looks of the men who surrounded him； he'd be lucky to avoid a disemboweling。 They were ready for some sport。
〃You're not going to die；〃 the officer said； patting his mount's gleaming neck。 The presence of so much decay made the thoroughbred uneasy。 〃We need answers to some questions first。 Then you can have your place in the pit。
Behind the officer's plumed head the sky had darkened。 Even as he spoke the scene began to lose coherence； as though Mamoulian had forgotten how it went from here。
Under her lids Carys〃 eyes began to twitch back and forth again。 Another welter of impressions had overtaken her； each moment delineated with absolute precision； but all ing too fast for her to make any sense of。
〃Carys？ Are you all right？〃 〃Yes； yes；〃 she said breathlessly。 〃Just moments 。 。 。 living moments。〃 She saw a room； a chair。 Felt a kiss； a slap。 Pain； relief； pain again