按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
of despair。 Sabat wheeled； saw a gaping black void in the ground that might have been the entrance to eternal damnation itself； a jagged hole down which a flight of broken steps disappeared in the darkness。
He stepped forward； experienced a fleeting sensation of terror but shrugged it off。 It might be a trap but it was unlikely。 He peered down into those black depths； heard rasping breaths and the rattling of phlegm in tortured lungs。 Slowly； he began to descend。
At first the darkness was impenetrable but as he progressed it became lighter； a murky greyness akin to that of a foggy November morning。 He knew not whence the light came； but had long since learned to accept everything in this hellish land。 Down and down； the steps twisting and treacherous； until at length he arrived in an elongated dungeon that also seemed to have no end。 The contrast in temperature had him shivering and he had almost decided to reclothe himself in warmer garments when he spied the man slumped against the wall。 And even as he stared in amazement Sabat saw the head move； raising up； wide eyes that mirrored pain and hopelessness。
The other's skin was of a pallid texture and even a warrior of darkness chained down here for long periods could not have had so sickly a plexion。 Long fair hair or was it grey？ It was difficult to be sure in this half…light。 Wasted flesh had rendered the frame virtually skeletal。
'I knew somebody would e one day。' The voice was strained yet mellow。 'I heard your footsteps above； stranger； yet even you cannot help me for I cannot return to my own people。 I see you are one of the dark ones。'
'Why are you here？' Sabat was curious； noted that this man was not chained to the wall like the long…dead skeletons he could see on the other side。 'Surely you could have escaped。 Even frail as you are； you could have crawled up those steps into the open！'
'No； I cannot； I dare not leave here。' A pathetic whine。
'Can you not return to the white…skinned forces who live and die daily？' Sabat's eyes narrowed and again he suspected a trick of some kind。 This man was neither senile nor so weak that he could not flee； and the way was clear to him if he so wished。
'I can neither seek help from dark nor light。' A constricted sob。 'You see； my friend； I am a traitor。 I have served both sides in turn。'
'Oh？' Sabat experienced an unexpected twinge of guilt。 Mark or Quentin Sabat； there was a parallel。 It might have been himself； weakened and pallid on the floor before him。
'It is true enough。' Breath expelled in anguish。 'I fought on the plains alongside my own kind。 Then one day I was captured。 I expected to be put to the sword but instead I was offered my life in exchange for my services。 At the time I could not see what harm there was in it； for the warriors of both sides are countless； but soon it was too late and I realised my mistake； my unforgivable treachery。 I became an outcast； a beggar of the streets； kicked and spat upon by both races in their contempt。 Now I serve nobody； not even myself。 If I could die then I would do so gladly but there is no death here； only eternal strife and struggle。 I shall always be a traitor and here I must hide forever from the eyes of all。 Learn from my fate； stranger。 A warrior can only serve one faction else he destroys himself。'
Sabat nodded； turned away； knew why he had sought out this nameless sufferer。 As he emerged into the weakening sunlight above he wished that he had asked the other's name。 It might have been Mark。 Or Quentin。 But there was no time to return now and perhaps it was better not to know。
A sudden sense of urgency。 He had experienced it on occasions before； a realisation that he had to hurry； that a return to his mortal body was imperative。 A kind of instinct。
The loincloth was exchanged for the feathers of a peregrine falcon once more； a fierce bird of prey that hurtled through thick cloud and clear skies； scattering smaller birds with shrill cries of fear as it neared the earth。 A flock of homing pigeons parted to allow him passage； their uncanny radar disturbed so that they flew round aimlessly in circles before bunching up again。
Sabat saw the lake first； a shimmering sheet of water sparkling in bright sunlight； reflecting the wooded mountains which towered above it。 Veered； rising steeply； swooping when he spotted the tiny insignificant chapel buried amidst the dark forest。 Something else too； a moving shiny orange shape that wound its way up the muddy cart…track。 For some reason Madeleine Gaufridi was returning in the VW！ His inexplicable astral warning system had not failed him！
With only seconds to spare he entered his slumbering body； jerked it back to a state of wake fullness。 A few bemused seconds and then he remembered everything； was sitting up when Madeleine burst in through the door。
'Slothful cochon！' her eyes blazed with anger。 'A guard； and yet you sleep the day away。 And with danger imminent； too！'
She turned； stalked towards the lead coffin。 'Here； give me a hand。 We must be sure that everything is all right。'
Sabat gripped the edge of the heavy lid； felt an icy coldness spreading from his fingertips to the rest of his body。 He grunted； exerted his muscles and the lid came up slowly。
'Ah； it is 。。。 Look？ Madeleine Gaufridi almost fainted； her features blanching； pointing down at the body which lay now only partially wrapped in its blanket shroud。 'Look； Sabat； don 'tyou see what's happened？ My Louis lives even in death。 His powers have not deserted him！'
Sabat saw。 And what he saw nearly had him slamming the coffin lid shut。 The head and body； separated by the heavy sharp blade of the guillotine； had joined themselves together again！ Just a wide bloody scar ringing the neckline and even that appeared to be healing！
CHAPTER TEN
'It is not possible。' Madeleine's features were trembling with a shaky frightened smile。 'And yet with my beloved all things have been possible； always。 He is preparing to rise on Walpurgisnacht of his own accord。 It is not the flesh which we must eat but that of another human being。 And Louis will join us at the feast！'
Sabat dropped the lid the last few inches and it thudded shut； vibrating the candlesticks which stood on the ghastly stove that served as an altar。 He； too； was trembling。
'But that is not why I returned so soon；1 she snapped。 'Sabat； there is danger and we must change our plans。 Once again there is a detective on our trail； but not an ordinary one this time。 His name is Pieter Daunay and even now he is heading this way。 Centuries ago he would have been feared as the Witchfinder； for he specialises in harassing satanic cults。 I have spoken with Andre and then hurried back here。 You must see to it that Pieter Daunay does not leave these mountains aliver
Sabat hoped his expression did not give him away。 With an effort he controlled his facial muscles； even raised his eyebrows in amazement。 'Surely one man cannot instil such fear into a following as powerful as