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finding itself unmercifully kicked。 Tears in Ilona's eyes； Sabat could also see the deep circular wounds on her arms and legs； the huge jugular puncture。 And the fear； fear of himself！
'Whore bitch！' He found enough saliva in his mouth to spit on the sand。 'A traitor to those who shall rule on earth as well as in hell。 May you writhe with the agony of your tortures in eternity。'
Ilona fell back； buried her face in the sand again； the sobs shaking her whole body。 And Sabat laughed； a croaking sound in the still desert air； and wished that his body was physical so that he could have taken her as she deserved to be taken and afterwards beaten her until she begged for forgiveness and mercy。
'So shall suffer all who betray Lilith； Goddess of Darkness；' he called over his shoulder as he left her。 He wished that he could have hated himself for what he had done； but Quentin was too strong within him。
It was the battlefield he dreaded most； the stench of deposing corpses in the heat； the bloated waddling vultures。 Mentally he tried to count the slain but there were too many； and this time there seemed to be more light…skinned than dark amongst the dead。 Perhaps the tide was turning； the day of reckoning close at hand； victory not far off。
Sabat wandered around aimlessly； not knowing what he was searching for； summoned here by powers far greater than his own。 Heat and thirst； hunger and weakness； he experienced every mortal disfort and when the five pale…skinned warriors came at him from out of a clump of stunted cacti he offered only a token defence。
They handled him roughly； ripped away his loincloth and exposed his full nakedness； their faces cruel as they surveyed his fine physique。
'Sabat the mercenary； Sabat the traitor；' a tall fair…haired man who reminded Sabat of an ancient Greek spat in the prisoner's face。 'Only a short time ago you came here seeking Lilith so that you might destroy her but instead you have bee one of her followers！'
Sabat returned the stare impassively。 Just one twang of guilt that had him wanting to try and explain but it was gone as swiftly as it had e。 Tight…lipped and silent he was not going to weaken。
'But we can kill you； Sabat。' The handsome face was thrust forward； an expression of fury that had to be alien to such noble features。 'For we shall imprison your astral body in this place so that it cannot return to your physical form and in that way Sabat will die； will be destroyed forever as though he had never been。'
There was no way Sabat could stop them。 Seized by wrists and ankles he was laid spread…eagled on the hot sand； bound securely to four stakes which appeared to have been driven into the ground in anticipation of his arrival。 He closed his eyes to shut out the glare of the sun and when he opened them again he was alone。 Except； that is； for the dead and the vultures。
The big birds approached； flocked into a circle； watching him with unblinking eyes； vomit dripping from their beaks； they were gorged but they would continue to eat。 One braver than the rest waddled forward as though to bite the living flesh of its latest victim but a hoarse croak from Sabat sent it scurrying back to the others； feathers ruffled。
Sabat realised his peril only too well。 He was impervious to pain and the vultures could do him no harm。 Yet if he did not return to his physical body on the couch in his lounge on waking that body would die。 Following death there is always a 'blank' space of time before the astral body is freed from the corpse and if Sabat's astral form was still staked out on these burning sands then it would remain here； mitted to hell by those who sought revenge on him。
The sun's heat cooled as it began to sink beyond Sabat's range of vision； slipping slowly from the western sky。 So quickly； as though it was hastening to burn up another land elsewhere。 Dusk； and then darkness。
。 In plete contrast to the daytime temperature this arid land became bitterly cold； the stars overhead twinkling brightly in their thousands； seeming to mock Sabat。 You'll never leave here。 Day after day you'll roast and by night you'll freeze。 And here there is no death because everybody is dead！
Somewhere an animal howled。 It could have been some sort of wolf。 But Sabat had no fear of wolves； only of himself。 And if he was still here when the sun rose again then he would remain eternally on this astral plane。
His terror mounted。 Instinctively he strained at his bonds； but he knew they would not burst。 The irony of his predicament brought a faint smile to his blistered lips； so much of his life had revolved around the pleasures of bondage and now it was apparently destined to be his fate。 If only he could have mustered an arousement maybe things would not have seemed so odd。 But there was no way that was going to happen to an astral body。 Sexual pleasures were only to be found in the mind； the body was frustratingly denied the means to satisfy that urge。
Sounds and smells invariably tantalised the astral body； and Sabat had long ago learned to ignore them。 That howling animal was no more physical than himself； nor the owl which hooted persistently not far off。 A scuffling noise like bare feet ploughing a path through the drifted sand 。 。 。 Only when he saw the woman did Sabat believe that it was not a trick of the ears or the mind！
He could only see her in silhouette； her face hidden in shadow。 She was tall and stark naked； her skin shining white and silvery in the ethereal starlight。 Legs slightly apart she stood looking down at him and he experienced a sense of uneasiness for she did not speak。 Seldom was Sabat in awe of anybody； but for once he felt humbled。 Had they sent her to mock him； a nymph to watch over him until the time came when his body on earth died？ To tantalise him with erotic thoughts？
Then she was stooping down； something glinting in her hand。 He almost laughed aloud； shouted 'you can't kill me and you know it' but just when it seemed that she was about to plunge the blade of her knife into his heart it altered course。 He heard it sawing on the ropes which bound his wrists； a faint vibration； and then the tension was gone； his hands were free and for once there would be no agonising pain when his circulation returned。 Deftly she cut through his ankle bonds。 He was free but what was the price of freedom？
'You see； Sabat；' her tones were silvery； girlish although she was no adolescent； 'serve the Left Hand Path well and we will protect you。 The followers of the Right are your enemies and will destroy you if they can。 There is not much time left … return to your earthly body now before it is too late！'
Sabat sat up； tried to make out his rescuer's features but she had stepped back into the shadows。
'To whom am I indebted？' he asked。
'The one whom you serve；' she gave a laugh； turned； and was gone into the darkness。
Sabat shivered and his fear surged back。 And he knew without any doubt that the woman who had walked out of the desert and returned there w