"They haven't been dead very long," said McCoy, after kneeling and examining the bodies, "maybe less than an hour, but I have no idea what killed them."
"Whatever it was, their misfortune might be our salvation," said Kirk. "Everyone strip those robes from them and put them on over your uniforms. What's the supply situation, Mr Scott?"
"Full water bottles in every saddlebag, but not much in the way of food."
"It could be much worse."
"Aye, Captain, that it could."
"Anyone got any idea where we are?" asked Kirk.
"These are fine Arabian horses," said Uhura, who was stroking one of them, "and the saddles are of middle-eastern design, as are the robes those men were wearing. So we're either on Earth or one of our colony planets."
"There appears to be sand in every direction for as far as the tricorder's scanners can read," said Spock. "Beyond that, I have nothing to add to Lt Uhura's deductions."
Kirk rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.
"That presents us with a problem. We can't stay here baking in the sun, so which way do we head?"
"If I might make a suggestion...?"
"Go ahead Mr Spock."
"There are tracks showing the direction the riders come from. By definition, they also indicate where they were heading."
"So you think we should continue on the same course? Why not? It's as a good a suggestion as any."
And so they mounted the horses and set off across the trackless wastes, though whether in the direction of a coast or into the desert's vast, unknowable interior they could not say. Spock spent several hours pondering their apparent good fortune. There were five of them, and soon after arriving here they had quickly discovered five horses, their riders conveniently deceased and having expired from no cause Dr McCoy could determine. Then there were the four phasers. As a doctor McCoy would of course refuse to carry one, so four was the number they needed and the exact number they just happened to find. It seemed unlikely all this was just coincidence.
Progress was necessarily slow and measured under that merciless sun, yet they made good time. When night began to descend the stars became visible and Spock took readings.
"Conclusions, Mr Spock?"
"We appear to be on Earth, in the Middle East, in the year 1191."
"1191," said Kirk, "why does that date seem significant?"
"The Third Crusade, Captain," said Uhura. "Two years ago, in the year he was crowned King of England, Richard Coeur-de-Leon - the Lionheart - rode out with his knights to join the Third Crusade. Two years earlier, after defeating the Christians at Hattin, Saladin and his Muslim armies had conquered Jerusalem so now, headed by Emperor Frederik I, the knights of Christendom are assembling to liberate the Holy Land."
"'Liberate'!" snorted McCoy. "Yes, that was a name for it, I suppose."
"Lt Uhura is correct," said Spock. "I would estimate that Richard and King Philip Augustus of France would be attacking the port city of Acre about now. If successful, Richard hoped they would then be able to conclude an armistice with Saladin and force him to cede the coastal strip between Tyre and Jaffa."
"It's all academic," said Kirk, "since we are here neither to observe nor interfere with events that are in any case probably happening hundreds of kilometres from our current position."
"I believe I may have discovered something of more immediate concern," said Spock, frowning at his tricorder. "According to these readings there is a large energy source beyond the next dune."
The sight that greeted them on cresting the dune was unexpected. Below them, the sand gave way to rock, and the rock to the carved pillars and beaten copper walls of an ancient structure. The copper was heavily scored, testament to the passage of many sandstorms, and though the edifice was half buried by the shifting sands, the cleared steps and portico indicated it was inhabited. Its obvious great age suggested it must have been entirely buried by the desert at some point, and if so then someone must have expended great effort to uncover it, but who and why? There was a mystery here, and the problem with mysteries was they could get you killed.
Late afternoon had given way to night with a speed that would shock those not used to deserts. Finding torches in their saddle bags, the five lit them before urging their horses down the dune and out onto the paved avenue leading into and through the structure. The weight of millennia pressed down on the brooding stone of the palace, and the only sound to be heard above the hissing desert wind was the clip clop of horses hooves as they filed unspeaking down a deserted avenue that had not known human feet in five hundred generations. There was a *wrongness* about this place. They could all feel it, humans and horses alike. The latter were beginning to get skittish, whinnying and snorting as they would if a large predator was lurking nearby.
There was a sudden flurry of motion at the rear of the column, a brief scream that cut off abruptly, and the sound of giant wings beating the air, a sound quickly lost amid the looming stone columns. The others all swung about immediately but it was already too late. Dr McCoy had been at the rear, but now he was gone, vanished without trace. All that remained was his horse, lying there on its side as the blood poured from the wound where something had torn out its throat.
"Phasers out and form a defensive circle!" yelled Kirk, but the others, experienced Starfleet officers all, were already doing so, horses facing outward to meet whatever lurked in the shadows. Even before they had finished forming a circle, it struck again, plucking Scotty from his mount while raking the beast's neck with its talons. This was too much for the remaining horses. Panicking they kicked and reared, throwing their riders and bolting back the way they had come.
"What was that, Captain?" cried Uhura, picking herself up off the floor and falling in beside the others. "What was that thing?"
"I only glimpsed it," he said, but it looked like some sort of giant bat."
They formed a circle, phasers facing outward, torches held high, but it wasn't enough. The creature came swooping out of the darkness again, gliding fast and silent and giving them no chance to spot it until it was on them once more, dodging phaser blasts with a speed and agility that hardly seemed possible. It knocked Uhura senseless on its first pass, and plucked the other pair's phasers from their hands on its second before carrying Uhura away.
And just like that it was down to Kirk and Spock. They stood in the pool of light created by their torches, heads up, defiantly, waiting for death. Then the darkness was gone. With a suddenness that took them by surprise, torches flared into life from where they jutted out of every column and wall, banishing the night.
And there he stood, his great bat-wings folding up behind him then somehow being absorbed into the very muscles of his back, a club in each hand. Spock did not recognise his species.
"I am Raknor, prince of the void, last of the Azranti," he said, coal-black skin glistening with sweat, his unblinking yellow eyes fixed on them, "and you are prey."
"We come in peace," said Kirk. "We don't want to fight you."
It became clear Raknor was not interested in talking when he leapt at them. Spock struck out with his torch as did Kirk, but Raknor parried every would-be blow, holding them both at bay almost effortlessly. It was clear to Spock that he was toying with them, enjoying the sport. When Raknor decided to take them down he did so swiftly and brutally. Sidestepping one of Spock's swings, he slammed the base of a club into the back of Spock's head with enough force to send him sprawling, simultaneously knocking Kirk's torch aside with his other club before bringing it down hard on his skull.
Casting Kirk's unconscious form aside, Raknor pulled Spock to his feet and dragged him into another chamber where the other three lay, unconscious. In the chamber were all manner of devices throbbing with power and giving off the very energy signature his tricorder had detected. They appeared to have been salvaged from a vessel of some kind.
"My treasure," snarled Raknor. "Others have tried to take it from me. All have met the same fate that awaits you."
He threw Spock roughly to the floor, glaring at him.
"It's been nine thousand years since humans walked these halls," he said, "nine thousand years since I fell from the stars after a battle the like of which your feeble mind could not comprehend. The people of Agrador found me in the dunes beyond this city, lying amid the remains of my ship, broken and dying. They nursed me back to health, and I became their god. I killed them all, of course, and the memory of Agrador and her people was lost to history. As I intended it should be. My devices will cover or uncover Agrador at my command. Which makes it the perfect place to hide from the Haakuun."
"The Haakuun?"
"The hereditary enemy of my people. But enough talk; it's time to feast."
He drew back his lips, to bare teeth that resembled nothing so much as those of a shark. Then he leapt, going for Spock's throat...