*
It was night. Most of the people who had been chatting round fires or sauntering between the houses had gone to bed. The torches had disappeared and the story-fires had burned down to red glowing patches in the darkness. It was pitch black inside my prison. I spied through a gap around the door. Kethin, my guard, was just a black shape blocking my view of the night fire he had built to keep himself warm. Hearing me at the door he turned, and brandished his spear. I couldn’t see what expression was on his stupid face, but I knew it wouldn’t be friendly. He said something I didn’t understand in a sneering tone. I blew him a raspberry. They do that a lot here. If they want to tell somebody they are talking rubbish, they just blow them a raspberry. They’re a lot more civilised than you’d think.
I began walking about the room, trying to stay awake, my attention riveted to the door. If Kethin was going to harm me, he would wait until I was sleeping. He’s no hero.
I don’t know when I dozed off. I can’t even remember lying down, but anyway, I’d been spark out when I woke up in startled terror. Somebody had grabbed my shoulders. I hit out and connected. My attacker rolled away yelping like a hurt pup. ‘Vart, Vart, atal tupdra!’
‘Vart? Is that you?’
‘Ty Tupdra! he cried, in a hoarse whisper, a hand covering his mouth and nose. ‘Edrik, ty treendun – treendun – edrik! Ty tupdra gwireen.’
I worked out what he said. I’d broken his nose and I was a stupid idiot.
Frankly, with all the blood and snot coming out of his face I couldn’t argue with him much. I knew that tupdra gwireen meant stupid idiot. I’d heard him call me that often enough. I also knew that edrick meant look, so treendun, must mean broken nose, and I must admit that Vart’s face was an impressive example of one. Blood was mixing with his white owl face paint, smearing it with pink slime.
Outside, Kethin had suffered more than a treendun. He was flat on his face looking fairly dead-ish. Vart shoved me through the door, mumbling fiercely into his bloody hand. Once outside he set off jogging, gesturing furiously for me to lower my head as we dashed for freedom.
Boy was I glad to see him. He had even brought my rucksack, although I later discovered it was minus the last Toblerone for five millennia.
Even with his head down near his knees, Vart ran almost as fast as I could normally. We sped over goose cropped grass between a scattering of huts. All were dark and silent. Suddenly, I was facing the most amazing building. I had caught sight of it when we had arrived with Blaith, now I was brought to a skidding standstill under its high walls. I had never seen anything like it. I forgot I was supposed to be escaping and just gaped at it.
It was a huge, circular construction. Its white mud wall was brightly painted with symbols and patterns. It had a conical roof reaching up high, the bottom half of which was thatched with reed. The rest was an open frame work, presumably to let smoke out and light in. But the truly amazing thing was its entrance. It had two huge tree trunk door posts, even taller than the building itself. They were so large in diameter that it would take two or three men to link arms around one. Each post was carved with patterns, coloured in like graffiti. I stood gaping. I don’t know what it is for, but it looks like an amphitheatre. It’s big enough for lots of people, and so beautifully decorated that it must be a very special place. I wanted to go inside, and regretted I was not seeing it in daylight, but even in the dim glow of a nearby watch fire, its colours blazed out at me. It made me think of a circus tent and all the colourful stuff you see around them.
Vart dragged me away. I heard, tupdra gwireen, again. I didn’t care. I just knew I must see that place again somehow. The quality and beauty of that building was astonishing. The whole town was full of neat round houses. I could barely believe such structures existed before Stonehenge. A wave of depression crashed over me, like homesickness. I wanted Tori and the professor to see this place, but above all I wanted to escape it. That brought me down with a crash, reminding me to focus on escaping and nothing else.
The first thing I had to do was plant my message to Tori. I must tell her I am here and alive. That should start alarm bells ringing. Once they know that time travel really exists, it should provoke a heavy duty response from the Government. That's what I hoped. That’s what I needed, I told myself, somebody who will accept that time travel is real and be willing and able to do something about it.
Time Rocks Page 24
