The Rings of Poseidon

by Mike Crowson

  Chapter 8

  "Well?" Steve asked at length, "What did you make of that?"

  The question was directed mainly at Frank, who replied carefully, thinking about his words.

  "I'd say 'experience' was a good word to describe it. Nice and neutral and non-committal. I thought it was Gill's story not yours though."

  "Oh it was. A completely different 'experience' from last time, for me anyway."

  "And for me!" echoed a bemused Gill faintly.

  "That's because you were wearing the ring not Steve." Manjy was wide eyed with a combination of awe, surprise and a little fear. "I told you it was reincarnation and that the ring was responsible," she continued, "and I'm sure it is, even if I can't tell you how."

  "Well the story was interesting and believable, but I can't see how we can prove it or disprove it without digging forever," said Frank. "Even the bit about Gaïn being buried inside a temple is an incredibly long shot. If Gill can give us a lot more detail about the temple we could possibly identify it, but the odds are against it."

  Alicia shook herself. "Oh no," she said, "a child of about three with a split skull was dug up at Woodhenge. She'd been buried just inside the entrance. What's more Woodhenge probably did look more or less as Gill described the temple in her story. The trouble is, Gill may have known all that. She has a degree in the History of Bronze Age Britain. Although this was the Stone Age she'd have known pretty well all the details she gave us in her story."

  "Are you suggesting that I made it all up?"

  "No, no," said Alicia hastily, "I only meant that evidence in the scientific sense is hard to come by because of your background, not because of the difficulty of archaeological verification, as Frank suggested."

  "Funny thing though," said Gill. "I felt the need to explain the concept of "ring". Almost as if it was a new idea."

  "That's fairly easy to explain. Rings are generally made of metal and this was the Stone Age," said Alicia.

  "So where did a metal ring come from in the stone age?" asked Frank. "Oh, and what on earth is a 'holy stone'?"

  Alicia said distantly, "The tides smoothing and wearing away pebbles on a shingle beach sometimes make holes in them, if the geological structure of the pebble is right. Not that common but not exactly rare either. By a sort of old medieval joke a stone with a hole in it was a holy stone, though I don't suppose the same pun worked all that time ago. I imagine the words were quite different in whatever language they spoke in stone age England. All the same, pebbles like that were valued as special and were probably strung on a thong as an amulet."

  "Anyway," Frank continued, "We know how the ring found its way here. Not in detail of course. We don't know whether the priestess gave it to a village chief or if he just took it, but we know why it went."

  "I'm not sure we do." said Gill. "I don't understand why I sent the ring away after one little incident."

  "Explains the source of carving that pattern on stone though," remarked Alicia.

  "You don't understand. I really believed the ring was evil and I understood instantly that the traveller was looking for it. Why?" Gill was now sounding rather upset.

  "Gill seems to believe her story," said Manjy.

  "I don't know what we can do to prove anything about either story, whatever we think the experience was," said Frank.

  Steve was very thoughtful. "There is one thing that would help us know how we stood with the first story." he said.

  "What's that?" Frank wanted to know.

  "Well ... if the first story is correct there's a hand holding a sword somewhere close to the entrance to the village. If it is there I don't suppose it's in a very good condition now, but I shouldn't think the owner came back for it." There was some nervous laughter in response to Steve's attempt to lighten the situation.

  "Well, we'll certainly be digging around the entrance," said Alicia , "so if it's there, we'll find it."

  "I don't know whether to hope it's there or hope it's not," returned Steve, leaning across the table and studying the ring which Gill had taken off and put down.

  "Why's that?"

  "If it's not there we'll dismiss our experience as an interesting and colourful dream which will fade in importance as the job in hand progresses. That would be a little sad but easiest on the brain. But what does it mean if we find the hand? What do we make of our experience then?" He paused, then added, "and how much of the rest of the stories can we accept?"

  There was an uncomfortable silence as they all thought over what Steve had said. "You've got a point," said Alicia at length, "What would it mean?"

  Frank thought, on reflection, that point was academic. "Let's dig up the arm first and worry about what it means if we do find it.."

  Gill voiced something that had been worrying Alicia. "What was a copper ring doing in my story?" she asked them. "If we were back in the stone age, why was there a metal ring . Where and how was it made? How did it get to southern England - the area that's now Wiltshire, if I really dreamed Woodhenge? All we know is why I sent it north." She paused for moment and then added, "And I don't even really know why I did that."

  Alicia was going to mention her own doubts about the whole thing when Frank interrupted her.

  "Forget the detail we can't check for now and stick to what we can check," he said. "It won't take us long to dig around the entrance. We can do it in a couple of hours." He turned to Steve. "When you chopped off this guy's sword arm, where were you standing?"

  "Just a minute," protested Steve, "I didn't cut off anyone's hand."

  "You know what I mean. Where were you in the story?"

  "Well, as I recall, the bloke was right handed and he hadn't even had time to straighten up after he came out of the village. I'd say the hand would be close to the wall, just to the left of the entrance as you face it."

  "OK, we dig there first thing in the morning. We were probably going to clear that area anyway, if I read the boss correctly."

  "Hmm? Oh, yes," said Alicia, who wasn't thinking of herself as the boss just at that moment.

  "So, if you don't mind, we'll do that next," said Frank.

  "Mind? I don't mind. I'm as curious as you," Alicia said, and laughed a little, as though, perhaps, she didn't find it entirely funny.

  Frank yawned and said he would turn in early that night. "I'll put the kettle on for a last drink," said Steve getting up, "but you won't be so early because it's ten thirty already."

  "Good grief!" said Alicia, glancing at her watch, "I'd no idea it was so late. Time flies."