Midsummer Solstice by Ness Ayton
First published in one of the series of "Frak" zines.
Sherwood Forest lay peacefully under the cold white stare of the moon; the faces of sleeping outlaws dappled by the pale light. All nature was in harmony with itself when suddenly a shadow passed across the face of the moon, causing a darkness to rush swiftly over the face of the forest. Amongst the bracken and ferns the outlaws stirred as it passed over their faces and Will Scarlet, the man on watch, shivered violently. There were a few moments of peace then, with a sound that was like armour rubbing against armour, a huge dark shape swept across the tops of the trees trailing fire behind it. Will screamed and dived into a nearby bush, whilst the others were abruptly awakened just in time to see the tail of fire. Friar Tuck crossed himself and Nasir murmured invocations to Allah. As quickly as it had come it passed, peace and silence flowing back into the vacuum left by its passing, leaving the creatures and outlaws of the forest wide awake and frightened.
The strange apparition passed over the town of Nottingham, waking the inhabitants. In the castle Sir Guy and the Sheriff dove under the bedclothes in terror, whilst Abbot Hugo fell to his knees, convinced that the day of judgment was nigh.
"All right," Slave, what happened?" Avon's temper was not improved by the blow he had received on his head during their latest barraging.
"I fear we have been pulled through a black hole, master," the flight computer replied as obsequiously as ever.
"It's dark," Vila complained.
"Yes, sir. I'm afraid my energy was drained trying to correct the wormhole effect."
"Huh? I thought you said we'd been pulled through a black hole!" Dayna pulled herself up off the floor and back into her flight seat.
"Yes, madam, I did." Slave was, as usual, trying to agree with everyone.
"Well, what's with the wormhole then?" Soolin demanded, inspecting the damage done to an elbow.
"Presumably going through the black hole created the wormhole," Tarrant snapped.
"That is correct, sir."
"But how?" Vila asked. He instantly regretted the question as Orac launched into a long lecture on astro-physics. Meanwhile Slave had managed to find enough power to light the flight-deck dimly and assured them that there had only been minor damage to the outer hull.
"And I've put us in stationary orbit round a planet," the computer finished, rather smugly Tarrant thought.
The crew of the Scorpio quickly finished their search for internal damage, finding very little. They had been remarkably lucky, Avon realised and secretly he was amazed at the level of Slave's apparently independent performance.
"He had help," Orac retorted testily when Avon asked how Slave had managed so well.
"From you?" Avon had pressed the flashing box of lights.
"Certainly not!" Orac snapped. "I wouldn't help that inferior computer!"
"Well, who did then?" Avon was puzzled.
"Does it matter?" Orac replied. "Now, I'm busy so if you'll refrain from cluttering my circuits with further pointless questions….." and it refused to say any more on the subject.
Avon reported what Orac had told him to the others. None of them were too happy that they had been rescued by an unknown, but obviously powerful, outside force; and Slave refused to divulge any useful information, merely informing them that, although his power was slowly returning, he would need some feldon crystals if they were going to attempt to return from whence they had come.
"Well, let's take a look at this planet then," Tarrant suggested, making the first really useful suggestion since their encounter with the black hole. Annoyed that he had not thought of it first, Avon ordered a full scan.
A picture of the planet flashed up on the screen and Slave droned away with all the detail he could find – which consisted mainly of the fact that the planet was ideal for humans and that it was already populated by an intelligent life-form.
"Intelligent enough to have created your external help?" Avon asked.
"I'm sorry, master, but there is not sufficient data and I am not programmed to speculate."
Avon turned away with an exclamation of disgust. Vila, who had been watching the screen intently, turned to him.
"Avon, do those outlines look familiar to you?"
"No," was the short reply.
"Think," pleaded the thief. Realising that Vila was rather upset, Avon thought – for a moment.
"No," he said lightly, "can't say that they do."
Tarrant, who had also been studying the screen, suddenly grabbed Vila's shoulder.
"Of course," he exclaimed. "Vila, it's Earth!"
Vila nodded, speechless with excitement. Avon was about to pour scorn on the idea when Orac spoke up.
"Of course, it's Earth," it said. "If you'd bothered to ask me I could have told you that a long time ago. We are orbiting twelfth century Earth, over twelfth century England to be precise – most interesting."
"But how?" Dayna asked.
"Obviously the effects of the black hole and the wormhole combined to pull us across space and back in time," Avon answered, will ill-disguised impatience.
"Fine, but now what?" Soolin wanted to know. "Are there any feldon crystals on twelfth century Earth?"
"I don't know about feldon crystals," Tarrant told her, "but there is a very strong power source down there which we might be able to use to our advantage."
"Were the natives friendly in those days?" Dayna asked.
"If you were on their side – yes."
"But how will we know which side we should be on?" she pressed.
"Play it by ear?" Tarrant suggested airily.
"Oh, you mean bungle our way through like we usually do!"
Tarrant shot her a filthy look.
The beggar sheltering in the bushes at the side of the road stared open-mouthed as three figures appeared out of nowhere. He watched as they walked off in the direction of Nottingham and then looked down at the wineskin in his hand. Solemnly he put the stopper back in and tied it on to his belt; then he made his way, reeling gently, to the nearby abbey for absolution.
Unaware of the consternation they had caused Avon, Vila and Dayna walked down the dusty road and into Nottingham. The guards at the gate stared at them as they entered, all thoughts of challenging the strangers fleeing their muddled brains.
"We're a bit conspicuous, Avon," Dayna hissed.
"For once, I think, a change of clothes would be useful," he agreed. "Let's see what we can find."
They made their way round the streets as unobtrusively as possible until they came to a house where some suitable clothes were hanging up outside. They got what they wanted, with a little persuasion; paying for it, against Avon's wishes, with a purse of gold that Avon had lifted from the belt of a passer-by. In reply to Avon's protests Vila pointed out that they still had to help the poor and oppressed whichever century they were in. Avon grunted, unconvinced.
Both Vila and Avon found their peasant clothes remarkably comfortable but Dayna had great difficulty with her skirts and headgear. To add to her problems she found it hard to remember not to stride along as she was used to doing. They found a quiet spot behind a pigsty and contacted Scorpio. Ignoring Vila's loud complaints about the stench, Avon managed to ascertain that Slave was picking up faint crystalline readings from inside a large building nearby.
The building indicated turned out to be the castle, which was heavily guarded. Avon eyed up the possibilities for a while and then outlined his plan to the others. Even with their highly sophisticated weaponry they would be badly outnumbered by the soldiers with their swords, so guile was required. Vila walked up to the gate, his protests having been steadfastly ignored, and tapped the nearest guard on the shoulder. The hollow metallic sound this produced did nothing to soothe his jangled nerves.
"Excuse me I'm a thief," Vila told the man quite truthfully. "Would you care to arrest my accomplices and I?" Both guards gawped at him. "Well, do you or don't you?" he snapped, as Avon and Dayna slipped past the distracted men.
"Oh well, suit yourself," he continued, walking nonchalantly between them and through the gate. By the time the guards had gathered their scattered wits all three were safely inside and well on their way, following Slave's directions.
Inside the castle, the Sheriff was presiding over the daily petitions and Sir Guy was being his usual irritating self, fidgeting behind de Rainault's big chair. It did not help that they had also set a trap for Robin-in-the-Hood and so everyone was doubly on edge and very much alert. Naturally this resulted in much chaos as people got in other people's way and messages got confused. The Sheriff's patience was wearing thin when three strange peasants slipped into the hall. At once he indicated them to Sir Guy who signalled for the doors to be closed.
Avon felt slightly uneasy as the doors were shut behind him and the others but he saw no reason why this should be connected with them. Intrigued by the proceedings in front of them they failed to notice the guards closing in until it was too late. They were seized and dragged before the Sheriff who could not hide his delight at their capture.
"So, we have captured three of the outlaws. Now where's the Wolfshead?" His whole demeanour boded ill for discussion.
"What's the Wolfshead?" Vila asked curiously.
"Your leader, you fool," Sir Guy spat at him, pleased to have found someone more stupid than himself. "The Hooded Man; Robin-in-the-Hood………"
"Robin-in-the…….? Robin Hood! Do you hear that Avon?"
"Yes, Vila, I did hear. I'm not deaf!"
Vila subsided, muttering to himself.
"What do we do now?" Dayna hissed, immediately drawing all eyes to her.
"Egad, a black wench!" exclaimed Sir Guy.
"Very observant," Dayna snapped at him, "and what if I am?"
Whispers of witch began to run through the packed hall. When she heard them Dayna began to laugh.
"You don't believe in witches, do you?" she asked in amazement. The murmurs grew louder and she fell quiet. "Yes I believe you do," she muttered under her breath and then, in an aside, said, "Avon do something."
"Like what?" he wanted to know.
"Like getting us out of here!"
"Any suggestions as to how?"
"No, after all you're the brains behind our operations!"
"I shouldn't always rely on me," Avon advised her.
"Master?" The computer's voice could be heard clearly at the front of the hall.
"Not now, Slave," Avon hissed, feeling the hostility towards them growing rapidly. Murmurings began to run up and down the great room and even de Rainault had turned pale. Abbot Hugo stumbled forward, gasping for air like a fish out of water.
"He talks to spirits and they call him master," the Abbot managed to stammer at last.
"Observant in the twelfth century weren't they?" Vila commented under his breath.
"Hold them!" Sir Guy's order took them all unawares but it was the soldiers who recovered first and they began to close in on the three strangers. Dayna, however, was quick to realise what was happening.
"Don't you dare touch me," she snarled, whirling away from the advancing guards. Ducking under a sword, she seized a pike from the store of them leaning against a wall and lashed out with it. Avon and Vila had sprung to life by this time and were busy avoiding the menacing swords. So intent were they on their own survival that they failed to notice the two men who had joined them in the fight and who were protecting them very effectively.
"Get us out of here, Tarrant!" Avon managed to gasp in a lull in the fighting.
At that moment a sword nicked Dayna on the wrist, catching the claps of her teleport bracelet and sending it flying through the air. Avon and Vila shimmered out of sight amidst screams from the assembled throng.
"Damn you, Avon," Dayna muttered. Gisburne took advantage of her momentary lapse in concentration and grabbed the pike. He wrenched it from her grasp so violently that she was thrown off balance and tumbled in a heap on the floor. Grabbing the nearest sword he held it against her throat.
"Yield or she dies!" he cried triumphantly. Without glancing at each other the two strangers threw down their swords in disgust and turned to face Sir Guy.
"Hiding behind a woman's skirts as usual," the blond one observed contemptuously.
"Bully!" Dayna snapped, glaring witheringly at Gisburne from her prone position on the floor.
"Where did your friends go to?" the dark stranger asked in surprise, ignoring the Sheriff's fierce stare.
"Oh they left," Dayna answered airily. "Can't stand the sight of blood, you see."
"Throw them all in the dungeon," the Sheriff ordered, getting a word in at last, "and tie her up. We have proof she's a witch."
"What proof?" Dayna wanted to know.
"Why, the disappearance of your friends of course," he replied, surprised that she seemed totally unaware of her predicament. Then, to his even greater surprise, and to the astonishment of the other two men, Dayna began to laugh.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she gurgled. "I know I really shouldn't laugh because you are all so serious about this but I can't help it. Come on you, help me up!" The last was addressed to Sir Guy who, in confusion, removed the sword from her throat and held out a hand. Dayna took it graciously and hauled herself to her feet, nearly pulling him over in the process. Still giggling she allowed herself to be tied up and led away with the two strangers who were as baffled by her behaviour as the Sheriff and his men.
The castle dungeons were dark, damp and smelly. Dayna wrinkled her nose in disgust as a thin wavery voice rose from the depths of a pit. It was into this pit that she was lowered at the end of a rope, the two men climbing down a ladder to join her.
"Yuk!" she said as the grille was replaced over them. "I don't think much to the guest quarters."
"Don't you be rude about Arfur's home!"
The voice at her feet made Dayna jump and she looked down at the ancient sitting there.
"Arfur likes it down here," the cracked voice told her.
"I'm sure he does," Dayna replied soothingly. "Er…………….who's Arfur?"
"Me rat."
"Rat? Oh!" Dayna had never come across that life-form before. In an effort to change the conversation she turned to the other two men.
"Hey, will someone undo these ropes for me?" she asked. "I won't disappear," she promised, as they exchanged glances, "at least, not yet."
"Well, I don't suppose it'll do any harm," the blond man said hesitantly. "My name's Robert by the way, though most of my friends call me Robin." There was no reaction from the girl whose bonds he was untying. "……And this is Nasir," he finished rather lamely.
"Hello, Nasir." Dayna flashed him a winning smile. Robin was surprised to see the usually inscrutable Saracen smile back.
"Why did you join in our fight?" Dayna asked.
"Couldn't have three innocent strangers being accused of things that we've done," Robin explained.
"Oh I see." Dayna looked round their prison, desperately trying to think of something to say to break the silence that had fallen.
Suddenly Vila was there amongst them. He looked round him in disgust.
"I don't think much to your choice of quarters," he commented.
"Shut up, Vila, and give me my bracelet." Dayna was coolly efficient as usual. "And now, what are we going to do about these two? They helped us, so we should help them."
Vila sighed long sufferingly and spoke into his communicator.
"Tarrant send Soolin down with two more bracelets."
"Why?" came the pilot's disembodied voice, causing Robin and Nasir to look round them.
"Because we're on a rescue mission," Vila explained patiently.
"Oh!"
Soolin arrived in the pit as silently as Vila had, carrying two more bracelets which she handed silently to the perplexed outlaws.
"Teleport," she snapped and the five of them disappeared. The ancient in the corner cackled hysterically whilst Arfur sat up on his haunches and rubbed his eyes.
"Tarrant, Soolin, Vila, Nasir, Robin." Dayna introduced everyone as quickly as possible. "And I'm Dayna. Where's Avon?"
"Back down there," Tarrant told her.
"In the castle?"
"No, in a forest."
"Sherwood," Robin said.
"Pardon?" Tarrant turned to look at him.
"It's called Sherwood Forest," Robin explained, unable to take his eyes off the blonde and shapely Soolin.
"Oh!" said Dayna, stripping off her peasant clothing to reveal her lithe cat-suited body. Nasir's eyes opened wide.
"Where are we?" the puzzled Saracen asked at last. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
"Hm, it's rather complicated and I'm not sure you'd believe it anyway," Tarrant told them.
"You're in a spaceship in the skies above the Earth," Dayna explained. "As to the rest, just accept things as they are."
Robin and Nasir shrugged helplessly and looked at each other.
"No what?" asked Vila.
"Well……" Robin began rather hesitantly, "I'd rather like to get my sword back, if that's possible, with those bracelets. It is rather special to me."
"Don't see why we can't help," Tarrant said. "Avon's not here and we've nothing else to do. Where's your sword likely to be?"
"In the Sheriff's chambers I should think."
"Can you describe where they are in relation to where we found you?"
Robin's description was clear and concise and, before he knew what was happening, he found himself, along with Dayna and Vila, in the Sheriff's ante-chamber. After stunning the guard they cautiously entered the inner chamber. Robin indicated a large chest in the corner.
"Locked!" he exclaimed in disgust.
"No problem," Vila told him. "There's nothing I can't open – given time."
It took almost no time at all for Vila to open the chest and Robin retrieved his sword, Albion, with a sigh of relief. Dayna also recovered her teleport bracelet and then they were whisked back up to Scorpio. Once on board Robin flourished his beautiful sword above his head.
"Very nice, " Soolin commented, "but I think we'd better put you back where you came from."
"Not the dungeons," Robin protested sharply. "Put us back in Sherwood Forest, please."
"Sir."
"Not now, Slave," Tarrant said firmly.
"But sir……"
"I said not now." Tarrant turned his attention to teleporting the two outlaws, along with Dayna and Vila, down to a forest clearing. As they shimmered from sight Slave spoke again.
"I really think you should listen, sir, because you have just teleported a rich source of feldon crystals back down to Earth."
"What?" Tarrant whirled in horror. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"I did try to, sir, but you wouldn't listen." An almost indignant tone had entered Slave's voice.
"But where was it?" Soolin demanded.
"In the sword Albion," the computer told them.
"Oh no! Soolin teleport me down there now and I'll get it back." Tarrant almost shouted at the blonde.
"I don't think Robin will be too happy about giving it up," Soolin warned him. "He seemed rather fond of it."
"You forget my persuasive tongue," he reminded her.
"Huh!" was the response as Soolin operated the teleport.
Tarrant could have sworn he was only seconds behind the others but when he materialised in the clearing they were nowhere in sight. He glanced round quickly to try and ascertain the direction in which they might have gone so he could follow, but Robin was too careful in covering his tracks and the pilot could discern nothing that would help him. Suddenly a twig snapped behind him and he whirled to face the intruder, hand dropping to his clip-gun. He relaxed, however, when Avon walked into the clearing.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded of Tarrant.
"Well….." The pilot hesitated, chasing a sword did seem rather a lame excuse for teleporting down. "We found that Robin's sword is a rich supply of feldon crystals so I came down to get it," he explained in a rush.
"Oh you have, have you? And what if I told you that we don't need any sword?"
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you haven't told us what's going on!" Tarrant retorted in exasperation. "So how was I supposed to know?"
"Well, you know now and as you're here you'd better come with me."
"Where?"
"To Robin-in-the-Hood's encampment."
"We'd be interested in joining you." Another voice rang across the clearing.
"Oh no, not him again," Avon groaned.
"Who're your friends, Avon?" Tarrant asked.
"The Sheriff of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisburne and some of their soldiers," Avon explained in a dead-pan voice. Tarrant stared at him and then began to laugh.
"Oh I really don't believe this," he chuckled. "Are you telling me that we're in the middle of a legend?"
"Yes," Avon snapped, "we are, unlikely as it seems."
"I don't see what's so funny," Gisburne observed huffily.
"No you probably don't," Tarrant managed to stutter between his laughs.
"If we could calm down I think we might be able to help each other," de Rainault suggested silkily.
"How?" Avon asked, interested despite the bad treatment he had received at the Norman's hands.
"You want Albion; we want Robin. You help us get him and we give you the sword."
"Sounds an interesting proposition," Avon admitted.
"And we've seen that you have the powers to help us," the Sheriff continued, " by disappearing from our court."
"Oh, our little party trick." Avon smiled at him wolvishly. "I'm so glad you liked it."
"Well, I don't like this man," Tarrant muttered. "I'm sure he must be an ancestor of yours Avon."
"Shut up, Tarrant." Avon turned to the Sheriff and Sir Guy. "If you can take us to Rhiannon's Wheel you will have your Robin," he told them
"Nothing easier," Gisburne grinned, already picturing Robin as his prisoner. "Horses fro our two helpers."
"Horses?" Tarrant grimaced as two were brought forward. "What do you want us to do with them?"
"You ride them," Sir Guy answered, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Hm." Neither Avon nor Tarrant were totally convinced that this was a good idea but found that they had no choice in the matter. Tarrant found the riding a lot easier than Avon, although the latter did manage to talk to Soolin despite his discomfort.
"Follow my signal and put Scorpio in orbit over the place where we stop," he told her, "and don't argue," he finished firmly as she began to question him.
Vila was complaining again Dayna noticed.
"Why can't we teleport to this Rhiannon's Wheel?" he was wanting to know. Robin and Nasir had invited them to celebrate the midsummer solstice with the outlaws and, since there was no sign of Avon and they had nothing better to do, they had agreed and now they were walking over the fields, knee deep in evening dew.
"I don't think even Orac could teleport is to a place that's outside time and space," Dayna said patiently. "That is if we believe what Robin says."
"Robin understands the Wheel better than any of us," Nasir told her quietly.
"Hm, well I'm not convinced," Vila muttered.
At last they reached the great circle of standing stones known as Rhiannon's Wheel and moved towards its centre, the other outlaws quietly joining them though not all of them were happy about Dayna and Vila's presence. As was quiet and still within the circle.
"Time stands still here," Robin told them softly. Dayna nodded, recognising the place's special quality whilst Vila glanced round fearfully.
Their silent vigil began, each outlaw sitting or standing in a circle round their leader, facing out into the darkest night Vila had ever seen. Dayna sat close to Nasir's feet, watching the Saracen's face, drawing strength from his still presence, until at last the sun rose again in the east. With the hazy sun warming their stiff limbs the outlaws stretched and yawned.
"Oh how nice." De Rainault's voice cut across the circle's quiet.
"All our foes together," Gisburne gloated.
The outlaws whirled round the circle, drawing their swords.
"There's no need for that." Avon strode forward into the circle.
"Avon, what's going on?" Dayna demanded. He ignored her totally and turned to Robin eyeing the young man up quickly and then he spotted Albion.
"I don't suppose you'd give us Albion would you?" he mused thoughtfully.
"Of course not. Albion is Britain's only hope," the Wolfshead gasped.
"As I thought," Avon responded. Tarrant was amazed at how calmly Avon appeared to take the refusal. Dayna stood and watched, wondering what he had got planned. Avon strode into the very centre of the stone circle, motioning to Tarrant to follow him. The pilot did so, feeling totally out of his depth. Dayna and Vila moved to join them.
"Well, as we've got Robin, I must consider whether to let you have Albion," de Rainault said.
"Double crossing us, are you?" Tarrant asked.
"Oh I wouldn't say that," the Sheriff told him. "Call it looking after my own interests."
"Definitely a man after your own heart, Avon." Tarrant looked piercingly at his leader.
"Shut up, Tarrant," was the only answer he got, however. Avon then turned and smiled silkily at the Sheriff. "I don't think you're going to have much choice in the matter," he almost purred.
"Oh no?" Gisburne shouted, drawing his sword and advancing menacingly. For a moment bloodshed seemed inevitable but he was stopped in his tracks by a shout.
"Look!"
They all turned as one and saw, advancing steadily through the early morning mists, a large antlered shape.
"Herne," Robin whispered. "But what's he doing here?"
"He's here to help you and us," Avon said shortly. His colleagues turned and stared at him. "Be ready," he warned them.
"What's happening?" Nasir asked.
"No idea," Dayna replied. "It could be anything with Avon in charge."
"I think you are going," the Sarcen said quietly. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Goodbye Dayna. It's been very pleasant having your company even for a short while."
Dayna blinked back some tears.
"Yeah I think you're right. Well it's been nice knowing you too Nasir," she said, trying to hide her true feelings behind a casual tone but she knew the Saracen was not fooled. "Hey what's happening?"
Almost imperceptibly the stones had started to spin round them. The movements of the outlaws, the Sheriff and his men were slowing down and it seemed to the four space travellers as if they were the epicentre of the motion – the hub at the centre of the wheel. Avon called up Scorpio.
"Teleport," he whispered against the wind that was now rising.
"What about the sword?" Tarrant shouted above the noise of the rushing air, his words being dragged out and scattered around.
"Leave it," Avon replied as the teleport was activated and they shimmered away.
Robin, Nasir and the other outlaws blinked as the spinning stones began to slow down and the rushing wind died away. Herne beckoned to them to follow. Silently and unquestioningly they moved away from the circle to the comparative safety of some nearby trees.
"Where did they go?" Nasir asked.
"Back to their own time," Herne replied quietly. "They could not stay here for they, like you, have a battle to fight."
"I know," the Saracen sighed wistfully.
Robin gave him a friendly slap on the back.
"We understand," he assured Herne.
"That's good, my son, for they are fighting tyranny and injustice just as you are. They are needed in their own time as you are needed in this."
Robin and Nasir nodded, but the Saracen could not help glancing up at the sky and wondering what might have been before turning and following his leader back to their camp.
Within the stone circle the Sheriff was berating the unfortunate Gisburne for having lost their prize once again.
"Where are we?" Vila whimpered.
"Back in our own time and space, I hope," Avon replied.
"That is quite correct, master," Slave told him.
"But what happened?" Soolin wanted to know.
"A black hole was created for us to travel through," Avon explained, a little uncertainly for him.
"Created? Oh come on, Avon, that's impossible." Tarrant was incredulous.
"Remember how Slave had help when we arrived over twelfth century Earth?"
"Yes," Vila prompted.
"Well I finally persuaded Orac to tell me where the help had come from and I had a very long chat with an extremely powerful computer."
"Computer? In the twelfth century?" Soolin was not sure how to react to that.
"Well, if you're not going to believe me I won't bother telling you the rest."
"Oh come on Avon, you must admit it does sound pretty far-fetched, " Dayna pointed out.
"Yes, well, I can't explain it but it was there whether you like it or not!" Avon't temper was getting shorter than usual.
"All right, Avon, it's there so what happened next?" Tarrant asked.
"I explained our predicament and it came up with a solution – it bent the fabric of time and space to create a black hole through which we were able to travel back to our proper place."
"But Avon that's impossible," Dayna snapped in exasperation.
"I know that!" he snapped back. "But it's happened hasn't it? We're back where we should be aren't we?"
"Can't deny that," Tarrant acknowledged.
"What was that thing we saw at the stone circle?" Vila asked suddenly.
"A computer projected image. After all, twelfth century outlaws wouldn't understand, let alone believe, a computer."
"I don't know whether I believe it," Soolin stated flatly.
Behind Avon's back three heads nodded in agreement and they looked at Avon with worried expressions on their faces.
"What was it called by the way?" Vila asked.
"H.E.R.N.E." Avon snapped and spun round to face Tarrant. "Come on let's get out of here before Slave finds us another black hole to fall down," he snarled.
"How did you convince Avon to go to Rhiannon's Wheel? He didn't seem the sort to believe just anything?" Robin was sitting by the stream talking to Herne. The old man smiled.
"That was easy," he said. "As they were from another time in the future I pretended to be a computer projected image. No, Robin, don't ask, I couldn't explain. I had to do that because, as you so rightly said, Avon would not believe just anything, but he would believe that."
Robin smiled and looked up at the sky through the trees.
"And they're really back where they came from?" he asked.
"Yes," Herne assured him. "Things are as they were before but……."
"Nothing is forgotten," Robin finished for him.