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Sabat stood and stared； was suddenly aware of being joined by Kent； heard the latter's intake of breath and a muttered 'Jesus Christ！' They saw the old woman clearly as the silvery…grey beams of smoke…filtered moonlight shone on her。 A pathetic； sorry figure； Sabat reflected。 Wasted； as though a skeleton had been exhumed with strips of decaying flesh still clinging to the dead bones。 The rotting clothing appeared to have torn and shredded still further in the chase so that the figure beneath was displayed in its full obscenity； a nauseating nakedness that made the two men wish that they did not have to look。
Her voice was a low moan； a prayer or plea to some unknown deity as she stood atop the burning heap； calling for help in her hour of desperate need。 The atmosphere seemed to e alive as though pending an electric storm。 Sabat was aware of the static； the way his flesh goose pimpled； clammy fingers touching him again。 He reacted instantly； saw the situation for what it was； a threat to their lives and their souls。 His hand delved into the pocket of his corduroy jacket； fingers closing over that tiny silver crucifix。 It snagged on a thread； got caught。 Oh God； the forces of darkness were working on him already； obstructing him。 Even Kent was holding on to him。 With a determined effort； calling upon every last physical and mental reserve； Sabat pushed his panion away and at the same time dragged the small cross clear of his pocket。 It seemed to have grown heavy these last few seconds； several pounds in weight that required a deliberate effort to raise above his head。 Even as he managed it the smoke came at him with full force； a blinding； suffocating mass that almost had him staggering back。 No longer could he see that fearsome creature on the smouldering peat。 He didn't even know if she was still there。
Sabat's arm went back； shot forward with full force。 Many times had he lobbed dummy grenades in SAS training exercises under similar conditions； running the gauntlet of smoke bombs and tear gas。 Now； that training was repaying him。 He sensed that he was on target even before the unearthly scream rang out； threw himself flat as the sky above zig…zagged with forked lightning。 Self…preservation； he did not even think about Kent； for the other had undergone the same training and it was up to him to act likewise。 You threw yourself to the ground and kept down； and if you were religious you prayed to God。 If not； you trusted to luck。
The smoke thickened； a rancid smell and cloying taste which reminded Sabat of that oven which had once cooked living human flesh。* Finally it thinned and only then did he raise his head； squinting through half…closed eyes。
The moon was shining again and displaying a three…feet high rectangle of blackened squares of turf； charred and smelling evilly。 But there was no sign of she who had made her last stand on its summit。
'What happened？' A dishevelled Kent was on his knees a few yards away； staring in bewilderment。
'My power was greater than hers；' Sabat smiled wanly； 'or theirs； at this given time。 What you see there is a sacrificial turf altar of the ancient Oke Priests。 Doubtless we shall learn in due course that a supply of turf had been delivered for replacing part of the church lawns but take it from me； Kent； it was brought here for a very different reason。 You heard what she said about the Lupercal Cave？ Well； that was a temple used by the druids not far from Rome where dogs and goats； and sometimes humans； were sacrificed。 That woman intended to do that to us。 Without her altar； her power was limited。 She had to get back to it before we caught her。 We almost left it too late。 Fortunately I was on target when I threw the crucifix； otherwise I guess that would have been the end for us。'
'You're convincing me fast；' Kent was visibly shaken。 'But 。 。 。 that scream we heard； the one which brought us here。 。 。 。 '
'My God； yes；' Sabat tensed and stared about him。 'I'd almost forgotten。 That certainly wasn't our druid witch； unless of course she was deliberately luring us here。 There must be somebody else here who has already paid the supreme penalty。 。 。 。 '
'Listen！' Kent caught Sabat's arm。
From somewhere nearby they heard a low moaning sound as though somebody was in terrible pain； a noise that died away and then came back again。
Sabat paused； drew a deep breath； an instant preparation for yet another joust with the powers of evil。 They weren't letting up tonight！ He glanced at Kent； two strong men making a mutual pledge； a loyalty that was unquestioned。 Then； without speaking； they set off back in the direction of the churchyard。
CHAPTER SIX
THEY RE…ENTERED the churchyard by that gap in the hedge and stood listening。 Sabat wiped the ashes from his crucifix； almost felt its latent power。 Silence。 Another trick？
Then they heard the noise again； a low intermittent groaning that came from somewhere close at hand。
'Over there；' Kent whispered； 'behind that huge headstone。'
They approached stealthily； Sabat in the lead。 He caught a glimpse of the name on the huge tombstone … SIR HENRY GRAYNE。 And as he lowered his gaze he saw a pair of bare feet protruding from behind the marble； twitching feebly。
'It's a young girl/ Kent knew he was stating the obvious but somebody had to say something。
They stared； saw the young girl lying there on the gravel which had been spread and raked across the grave。 She was clad in a sackcloth…type shift which was pulled up to reveal that she was naked underneath。 Her slim fingers clutched the material； crumpling it with such ferocity that her knuckles were white。 A slim figure； no more than twenty at the most； dark haired with perfectly proportioned features that were screwed up into a mask of sheer terror。 Her dark eyes widened with fear when she saw them； tried to edge away but her strength failed her and she flopped back down again； moaning。
Sabat dropped to his knees； reached for her hand and caught it as it was snatched away。 She tensed； her whole body trembled and she managed a scream； a weak effort； a faint echo of the cry they had heard earlier。 Sabat dropped the crucifix back into his pocket。 He could have used it to devastate her but there was no point。 She was at his mercy anyway； a nymph of the graveyard run to earth by the hunters。
'I do not mean you any harm；' he spoke softly； smiled。
'I am 。。。 finished；' she whispered； closed her eyes； a resignation to death； maybe even worse。
'What is your name？'
A pause； then 'Sheenah'。
'You're safe now。 She's dead； whoever she was。'
'Alena 。 。 。 has been dead for a very longtime。'
'I know； but she is finished now。 Destroyed by the cross。'
Sheenah shuddered； continued to tremble。 Then 。 。 。 why don't you finish me； Sabat？'
'You know my name？'
'Everybody in this village knows your name。 A devil in human form sent to make a pact with the Oke Priests。'
'My； my；' Sabat glanced briefly at Kent； then turned back to the shivering girl。 'Look； Sheenah； if you stop here much longer you're likely to catch pneumonia； like we shall as well。 Let us take you back to our place where we can talk in fort。'
Terrible things would happen to me if I was seen talking to you； Sabat。'
'From the villagers 。。。 or the Oke Priests？'
'I 。 。 。 I do not 。 。 。 know。'
'e on；' Sabat stood up； pulled her to her feet； let her dress fall back into place。 'It's a question of Hobson's Choice； my girl。 It appears that whatever you do somebody is likely to have unpleasant things in mind for you； in which case I think you'd be a lot better off with Kent and myself。'
It was on the way back to their headquarters； as they moved slowly； keeping to the shadows； that Sabat experienced that faint but pleasant sensation beginning again in the lower regions of his body。 With a supreme effort he managed to transfer his thoughts to other matters； even succeeded in shutting out Quentin's whispered mocking laughter。
Sabat was strong again now。 The ungodly would know they had been in a fight whatever the eventual oute。
'I'm a witch； you know。 A white witch； of course。'
Sabat was taken aback by the frank confession； admired the way Sheenah had recovered her posure as she reclined in the armchair with a glass of Bacardi in her hand； almost arrogant now。
'I rather gathered you were；' Sabat took a sip of his whisky； smiled disarmingly。 'It was just a question of which side you were on out there in the dark tonight。 We couldn't take chances。'
'Of course。 I understand。 I'm grateful to you； Sabat； because without you and your friend I would surely have died on the sacrificial altar。 Alena； mistress of Alda； is terrible when her anger is aroused。 The old ones are not wholly evil； though； but at the present time they crave revenge against those who seek to destroy an ancient place of worship。'
'Which is what I suspected it was all about；' Sabat said； stuffing long…stranded coarse tobacco into the bowl of his meerschaum pipe。 'It's the old religion versus the new； but where do you e in？'
'I am both a medium and a clairvoyant； amongst other things；' the girl smiled； and added； 'My mother； too； was a witch。 Hounded from place to place until finally she sought refuge in this remote village。 Then her past； blameless as it was； caught up with her。 A couple of centuries ago she would have been burned at the stake on the village green with me alongside her。 Instead they harassed us； did all kinds of stupid things。 The local yobbos stoned our windows on more than one occasion and once they tried to set fire to our house。 Then mother died … cancer … but the whole village was laughing； waiting for her to die because they claimed God was removing a curse from their midst。 D'you know； Sabat；' she twirled the stem of the glass between her slim fingers and stared at it intently； 'in all the years； I never knew mother wish anybody evil 。 。 。 that is； not until her final hour。 She was fading fast when suddenly she seemed to revive for a minute or two and she was mad with pain。 I tried to distract her but she would not have it。 〃The evil lies with the villagers and their hypocritical church；〃 she screamed。 〃Not content with driving out the old religion they are now trying to destroy it pletely。 The temple of the Oke Priests is to be ravaged by bulldozers so that houses for the unbelievers can be built on its site。 May the old gods return and send forth their Oke Priests。 May the sacred soil run red with blood； and the skies stink with the smoke of funeral pyres。 Let there be death and destruction； and terror struck into the hearts of these hypocritical churchmen and villagers。〃 Then my mother died。 I alone realised her power； how she was able to contact the old ones； and I knew only too well that they would answer her cry for help to save the sacred place。 It sounds ridiculous； Sabat。 but I know it's true 。 。 。 just the same as I knew you would e here once the killings and the madness began。'
'I believe you；' Sabat paused to get his pipe going。 'As you are obviously a very genuine clairvoyant and have also inherited your mother's powers； I suppose you know how and why this tract of ancient land has e to be put on the market。'
'I can oniy hazard a guess。 Somehow Bishop Boyce and the local planning officer worked it out between them。 This builder who plans to build a housing estate on the land must be in on it； too。'
'A three…way corruption。 But it'll take some proving。'
'There's a weak link。 The builder； Darren Hurst； has a mistress。 Actually she's a high…class call…girl named Lola； but that would be the way to get at them； through her。 You're the kind of guy who could do that； Sabat。'
'And how d'you figure in all this； Sheenah？ You're hardly a churchgoer and I wouldn't've thought that it worried you one toss。'
'Don't forget； I believe in the old religion；' Sheenah smiled。 'It was my mother who e