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'Look at that； it's a disgrace！' the tall man's voice escalated to a shriek of rage； frustration； a long arm pointing up to the church roof。 'They had the money to repair it but they've squandered it so now they're scrounging off the parishioners。'
God； it was cold。 Kent wished he had gone back up to his room to get a coat。 But he could not even voice a protest； just as though his brain had been stupefied by some kind of drug； forced to follow in the steps of the other； nod his agreement to every statement。 Maybe he was ill； he hadn't left his room at all and was dreaming all this； the beginnings of a nightmarish fever； shivering in his bed。 Soon he'd start to sweat。
Somewhere in the distance thunder was rumbling。 At least the noise sounded vaguely reminiscent of an electric storm； but that was impossible because the night was still and clear with a spring frost in the air。 Like a series of explosions that went on and on； some louder than others。 Vivid flashes lit up the sky against a spreading glow as though there was a huge fire burning a few miles away。
Kent tensed。 That noise； a buzz that was growing louder and louder； a vibration ing closer all the time； had him clutching his hands to his ears in a futile attempt to shut it out。 He wanted to scream his terror aloud。
'What the hells happening？' The journalist did not know whether he managed to get the words out or whether he just heard them in his own brain。
Shapes filled the moonlit sky； huge； lumbering bird…like objects flying in formation。 Planes！ Antiquated bombers that he recognised from illustrations in picture books； aircraft that were outdated long before the advent of the jet。 And there was not a light to be seen amongst the entire squadron that stretched as far as the eye could see！
'You mean you don't know' incredulity on that pallid face； the silver hair glinting in the moonlight。 'Those are the Jerries； the Luftwaffe！ They've bombed Coventry tonight； razed it to the ground。 The cathedral； too。 That'll teach those church hypocrites a thing or two！'
You're mad； Kent decided； his brain reeling； his limbs seeming to be paralysed so that he could not obey the powerful basic human instinct of self…survival and throw himself behind that huge headstone in an attempt to save himself。 And so； obviously； am I！
'But there's no war on！'
'Of course there is；' the other stared at him； those grey eyes penetrating； beginning to smoulder with anger。 'We are at war with Germany！'
Kent nodded his head slowly； accepting what he heard； knowing that he must believe it because it was true； the proof was there for him to see。 The night sky lit up by a blazing city twenty or so miles away； bombs still exploding； the stutter of retaliatory anti…aircraft fire。 The raiders passing over； their mission pleted。
The noise receded until finally it was only a distant hum； the glow dying away。 A city had been bombed and burned； only the embers remained。 Kent thought that he could smell the acrid stench of burning bodies； roasting human flesh that made him want to throw up。
'e now；' the tall man beckoned and Kent moved forward； swaying。 'I have other things to show you！'
Kent found himself staring at the huge tombstone； the one he had wanted to crouch down behind； the one where he and Sabat had discovered the naked Sheenah lying only 。 。 。 oh Jesus God； how long ago had that been？ Now it seemed to shine with the newness of polished marble which the elements had not had time to spoil！
'Read it；' his panion's face was close to his own； the features screwed up with anger； shouting。 'Read it； and tell me what it says！'
'Sir 。 。 。 Henry 。 。 。 Grayne 。 。 。 ' Kent had to spell out each word in the manner of an infant learning to read； stumbling over pronunciations。 'Passed away 。 。 。 November 。 。 。 1942。'
'My time is short；' the tall man sighed。 'Too short； and as such I must engage one to do that which otherwise I should have done myself。'
'Your time？' Kent's mouth was dry。
'Yes； my time。 For I am none other than Sir Henry Grayne； he who gave money in trust for the maintenance of the roof of St Monica's。 For the upkeep of this tombstone。 And also gave the land in keeping to the new religion so that the old one could remain undisturbed； our spirits continuing to worship unmolested。 And now that New Religion has performed an act of unprecedented treachery in an attempt to destroy those who worshipped here when this land was young！ And you； too； who are known as Kent have joined forces with the man called Sabat so that we may be destroyed forever r
A denial was impossible； Kent found himself muttering some inprehensible words of agreement； experienced a wave of guilt and shame； a criminal standing in the dock awaiting sentence。
'You could and should die this very minute；' the man who called himself Sir Henry Grayne snapped。 'Oh； that we the latter…day druids could sacrifice you to the old gods； but you are of great use to us。 Our way was not to sacrifice human life as did our predecessors； but now that is forced upon us。 We have no choice 。 。 。 have we； brethren！'
''Nay； we have no choice。'
Kent felt sheer terror grip him； all the worse because movement was denied him。 He hadn't seen the others approaching； they had arrived silently； now ringing the two men standing by the large headstone。 Robed and barefooted； men whose expressions bore the hatred forced upon them by avarice of those who came after。 A sect determined to fight； to shed blood on behalf of their ancestors to whom the taking of life was a mon ritual。
The journalist felt his legs go weak； it was a miracle how they still continued to support his weight。 These friends； these madmen； were going to kill him 。 。 。 sacrifice him to their gods！
One of the group stepped forward； handed something to Sir Henry Grayne； an object that glinted in the moonbeams … a long…bladed sword with a jewelled hilt； the stones flashing blood red as though they anticipated crimson death。
Sir Henry raised the weapon； pursed his lips and kissed the flat of the blade。 'O sacred sword of Alda； high priest of the Oke Priests； too long hast thou lain idle； thy keen edge deprived of flesh and blood。 Well； thou hast not long to wait now！'
'Kill the unbeliever！ He has no god； not even one of his own！'
'Be patient！' Grayne turned to face them； held his weapon aloft。 'Oh； it would be easy to slay this one； but I have a far more cunning idea。'
'Speak then or else the moon will begin to wane and we shall be recalled to the shadows to await the Summer Solstice。'
'I will be brief；' Sir Henry drew himself up； his voice now powerful with no trace of a lisp。 'The hypocrites who seek to destroy our sacred ground have brought the man known as Sabat here to aid them in their determination to drive us from here； banish us forever to wander in the dark places。 Sabat is strong； strong enough to destroy Alena； the witch； and to deprive Alda of his powers。 This one whom the