Disclaimers: as ever.

Thanks for the reviews.

CHAPTER NINE: DARKNESS TO LIGHT

'Nige? Are you okay?'

Sydney expelled a long, wavering breath. Nigel still had his arms wrapped tight around her, his face buried in the curve at the top of her chest, where he must have absorbed every thump of her pounding heart. His answer came only after a moment of silence, in which he was conjecturing the reply.

'Uh huh.' His voice was muffled. 'Um… I can't breathe down here…'

It was then that Sydney realised she was holding him against her in such a vice-like grip that it was doubtful that he could move, even if he wanted to. She reluctantly loosened her embrace. Nigel edged away enough to inhale a large gulp of dusty air, but did not unwrap his own arms from around her waist. It was absolutely pitch black.

'Do you think the roof will hold?' inquired Nigel, his voice hushed as if he was afraid the vibrations might bring down the stone slabs above their head.

'I'm hoping so,' muttered Sydney.

Even when squinting and straining her eyes, she could see absolutely nothing of the state in which the barrow was in, so it was hard to make a genuine judgment of their situation. 'Do you still have the torch?'

She discerned him shift awkwardly. 'It's in here somewhere. I think it's on the floor in the chamber with the skeleton. Do… do you want me to find it?'

'That would be a good start.'

Trying as she was, Sydney still could not make out even a dim shape in front of her eyes. This didn't seem good at all: the fallen stones must have shut out even the tiniest chink to let in starlight or moonlight.

She heard Nigel sigh loudly as he stretched himself away from her and began to crawl off. 'I think this is the direction,' he mumbled. 'We want the compartment with the single skeleton. I don't want to end up in any of those chambers full of bones!'

As he moved away from her, his familiar scent - the musky remnants of yesterday's aftershave and something more warmly, essentially and pleasantly Nigel - was replaced by a cold dankness. Sydney quickly curled onto her hands and knees and shuffled after him. Reaching ahead of her with one hand, she was grateful when it brushed against the corded fabric of the back of his trousers.

'Do you want me to go first?'

'Um, I think I'm okay. By my reckoning, I've just reached the second chamber on the right. Which means that Odo and the torch should be three chambers further up - we're getting there.'

Drifting her hand away, Sydney continued to crawl forward, but suddenly perceived something was wrong. She stopped abruptly, seconds before she collided with Nigel's backside. Nigel had stopped his progress.

'What is it? Have you reached the last chamber?'

'No…'

'What is it then?'

'You never thought… that I enjoyed it? Did you? I mean, last night, with all those girls.'

'No,' said Sydney honestly. 'The general impression I got was that it was a nightmare! But I was kind of curious about all this 'the one' business. What the heck was that about?'

'Oh…that. It's all rubbish really.' Still poised halfway on his journey, he related the story of Carolyn's involvement in his childhood encounter with the pony, and the assumptions that had been made by her 'girls' and Valerie.

After he finished, Sydney was thoughtful for a moment: 'Do you think there's anything in it?'

'NO!' spluttered Nigel, and began shuffling forward again. 'Of course not! It's all utter rubbish!'

'Probably,' muttered Sydney. Nigel read the lack of conviction in Sydney's voice, and shuddered silently. Sydney, on the other hand, felt strangely good about the thought that Nigel was somehow special - in ways even other than she thought he was special. 'Beautiful in mind and body,' she mused to herself, reflecting on the prayer Carolyn had said over 11 year-old Nigel. 'She got that right! I wonder if the Earth Mother really does have plans for him?'

'I think this is it.'

Sydney speculations were interrupted as Nigel reached what he thought was the final chamber. She edged her way alongside him. 'Can you feel it? The torch?'

'I haven't quite started searching yet,' admitted Nigel. 'I hope I've counted the chambers right. One wrong move and we could drown under an avalanche of bones!' Nigel gulped, picturing a torrent of fleshless limbs, ribs and eyeless skulls pouring forth upon them like a flood. 'Do you think we'd better go back and count again?'

'Are you going to do this or am I?'

Nigel's lips formed speculatively around the word 'you?' but he checked himself, recalling the look of pride and pleasure on Sydney's face when he put up the tent and invited her in, like a princess to her newly built castle.

He took a deep breath - 'No, I'm going in,' - and falteringly edged forward into the darkness, cringing in anticipation of the crunch of crushing bones that never came.

……………………………

Turning on the torch didn't improve their situation much. The stone that Tess and Reiner had pushed over had tumbled sideways, setting its sister stone skew-whiff. The megalithic propped across the top had crashed down on the others, and seemed to be the most likely to budge. Nevertheless, after ten minutes of heaving and puffing on Sydney and Nigel's part, it wouldn't give an inch.

Then the torch flickered and went out.

'Damn,' cursed Syd. 'They were my spares. Do you have any new batteries?'

If it hadn't been so dark again, Sydney would have seen the first inkling of hopeless mortification drift across Nigel's countenance: 'Um, I did, but I'm afraid they were my rucksack when it was stolen. Heaven knows where they are now!'

'That Giles is going to pay… and that Mayor…and Tess and Reiner!'

Nigel could hear her shifting from side to side on her feet, itching to do something about their situation. His fear was rising, however, that they were running out of things to do.

'Sydney,' he said softly. 'Was there any gap in the fallen stones… for the air to get through?'

'Not enough for light to get in,' admitted Sydney. 'But I did notice a tiny hole bored in one of the ceiling slabs that might act as some sort of vent. We ought to clear the dust out of it, if we can find it again in the dark. Anyway, I'm sure there'll be air in here for ages yet. Don't worry, we'll get out of this.'

As she spoke, Nigel sought out a solid section of the wall inside the barrow, which didn't give way to a pile of bones, and slipped down against it until he was sitting on the cold floor.

'Before we found this barrow, nobody had even noticed it since Odo in the 13th Century. Prior to that, it lay undisturbed for thousands of years. We've got no food, one bottle of water and a dubious amount of air. How many hundreds of years will it be before we'll be found? My God!' The tone of alarm in Nigel's voice swelled as a terrible image shot into his brain: 'At some point in the future, they'll find our skeletons lying here, with all the others, indistinguishable - apart from by carbon dating of course - from the crumbling bones of our Neolithic forebears!'

'Everything will be all right,' assured Sydney, her calm words belying a mind racing with adrenalin. She fumbled forward in the dark towards where he had settled; his hand, drawn only by instinct, caught hers and guided her as she sank down next to him. 'I'm working on a plan to get us out of here, right now.'

'Lovely,' mumbled Nigel, inscrutably. He did not relinquish her fingers, and she let him draw them across into his lap, where he wrapped both of his warm hands around hers.

'Sydney…if we don't get out of this…'

Nigel broke off, fumbling for the right words, as Sydney's heart gave a little leap. She should have seen this coming: it was one of Nigel's 'we're going to die' speeches.

He took a deep breath. 'We've been through a lot together, you and I,' he began, 'We've faced death many times…and I know you've always got us through it…'

Sydney nearly interrupted in order to remind him that she would get them out of it this time, but she couldn't quite bring herself to. This time, she found she wanted to hear what he had to say.

'I know things have changed a little between us lately,' continued Nigel, 'But, just in case we don't get out of this, I just wanted to say that…that…nothing has changed. Not for me, anyway, I still love you. Not in a sexy, lustful way - not that that's a bad way to love anyone, and I can't say that I don't love you in that way, if you don't mind me doing so…' Nigel swallowed his fluster and got back on track. 'But I love and respect you greatly, as a scholar…as a person… and as a friend…my best friend'

His stomach clenched in anticipation as he waited for her reply. Was she going to laugh his words off again, dismiss them as stress-induced ravings, like she so often did?

Sydney's tongue flicked over her lips, as the last remnants of an escape plan evaporated from her mind, replaced by more pressing issues. Suddenly, even more than usual, she felt like the apathetic masculine figure in their relationship. Here was Nigel - gorgeous, sweet, sensitive Nigel - pouring out his heart to her, telling her he loved her on every level that it was possible for a human creature to love another, and yet she was in a quandary as to how to respond.

What did she feel for him? Friendship? Yes, of course. She always had done. Professional respect? Naturally. He was by far the best assistant she ever had. Sexual attraction? Yes, that was not entirely new either, despite her playful delectation for men of six-foot four, with shoulders broader than Hercules, brains the size of an Egyptian scarab beetle, and all the emotion of a marble statue of Zeus. How could she not have noticed Nigel's flawless profile, and the brooding aspect of his eyes, which could surely melt the heart of Medusa. Neither had she missed the matter that he lacked a heightened Narcissus complex, despite being as beautiful as Apollo himself? But did all of this, even when coupled with her recent 'urges,' add up to love? Real, true, from here to eternity, ying to my yang, east to my west, heart to my soul, love?

Her meditations were shattered by his anxious plea: 'Sydney…?'

Feeling his palms grow sweaty, she realised these seconds of silence must be torturing him. She needed an answer. As the apocalyptic notion that they really might die here, in the dark, together, flashed across her mind, she was overcome by an unexpected tranquillity. It was then that she realised that the elusive answer had been within her all along.

She reached over her other hand, so it sat on top of his: 'Nigel,' she began slowly. 'Did you read the US archaeological newsletter last month?'

'Um…yes. I always keep up-to-date with the journals. You know that.' Syd could read his bewilderment, but she pressed on. 'Did you see that story about those Neolithic skeletons, the two they found in Mantua, Italy…'

'I do recall that,' said Nigel, the spark of recognition in his voice betraying more than pride at his extensive knowledge: On the eve of Valentine's Day, archaeologists working on a building site in the Italian city, had uncovered two later Stone Age skeletons, one young male, one young female. Their bodies were locked together, as the young lovers had died, caught in an eternal embrace.

'If I have to die,' whispered Sydney, 'here and now, or in 60 years time, that's how I'd like to go. And when they find our skeletons in 5000 years time, I hope they won't separate us, like the archaeologist didn't separate those two lovers…'

'Us…' Nigel nearly choked on the word, as tears pricked in the back of his eyes.

'Yes….us…' Her arms tentatively slipped around him. 'I love you too, Nigel… I'm sorry I find it so hard to say… I'm used to…'

'Going with the flow?' She could sense his smile, through the words muttered in her ear. He drifted his arms around her shoulders.

'Or maybe not going with it,' she admitted, squeezing him affectionately, thinking how happily accustomed she had become to the feel of his squidgy, cuddly and slightly damp jumper. 'At least as far as you're concerned. I guess it has taken a long time for everything to make sense.'

'It doesn't matter, Sydney… I love you, come what may, whatever you feel, surely, you knew that?'

'I know….I know…huh?'

Sydney half jumped, half shivered with delight as Nigel traced a finger along the line of her jaw. She moistened her lips, and his thumb gently touched the end of her nose, brushed her mouth and drifted onto her cheek.

'Dimples,' he whispered, caressing the endearing little niches as he pictured them in his minds-eye. 'I'm sorry…but I wanted to see if you were smiling…'

The lump in her throat, and the unfamiliar depth of her emotions, nearly choked her. 'Don't be sorry…never be sorry…just…go with…the…'

The darkness had vanished, and words became superfluous. Sydney could feel his ardour, his intensity, and she could no longer resist. Moving but inches, she captured his lips with hers, plunging into a long, needful kiss. As his hand gently cupped the back of her neck - caressing her, pulling her ever closer - a breeze the force of a hurricane rushed through her senses, defying the stillness of the air.

'Nigel…' his name caught in her throat, and sounded as a mere, pleasured sigh. No man – whether six-foot-four or five-foot-two - had ever kissed her like that! But then no other man loved her like he did… or she him. Then she sensed him grow still, hesitate: Nigel was ever the gentleman.

'Don't stop,' she whispered, playfulness disguising the depth of her desire. 'We may have 5000 years, but there's no point wasting time…' She sincerely wished his fingers, with their liquid-light touch, would continue the descent they had started through her loose, flowing hair.

They didn't return just yet: 'It's not that this is… rather fast,' began Nigel, his words breathless. 'It's just that I suddenly remembered that we are surrounded by the skeletons of dozens - maybe hundreds - of people. It just doesn't seem right!'

She seized him by his hair and pulled him back for another kiss; he moaned, in a moment of half-resistance, and then returned it, with all the passion of the first. As disturbing thoughts of accusingly staring, black eye-sockets disappeared, his fingers drifted back to their previous pursuits, spiralling down her curves, sending tiny, fizzing lightning-bolts down her spine.

'Those old bones have seen nothing but darkness for centuries,' husked Sydney, now reluctant to waste precious moments on speech. 'Isn't it time they saw some stars?'

……………………………………………………

'Nigel…Nigel wake up!' '

'Mmmm?' Nigel's eyes flew open, but to no avail. It was still utterly black and, for a tremulous instant, he hadn't a clue where he was. He sensed Sydney lying by his side, her hand rubbing in gentle circles against his bare shoulder, her other arm draped somewhere near his waist. His memories then cascaded back, and he vacantly wondered how life could be so dreamlike, so sweet and so bitter.

Sydney was now sitting, bolt upright. He heard her scuffle about, fixing her clothes. 'We need to get moving - I hear voices outside.' She raised a shout: 'Hey! We're in here!'

Nigel's wits were now returning quickly: 'In here!!!!!!' he echoed. 'Heeeeeelp!!'

There was no immediate answer. 'What if it's Tess and Reiner come back?' he hissed.

'At least they might unblock the entrance. I somehow doubted that Tess would have left you to rot… '

'I wish she would,' lamented Nigel, 'I'd rather spend the rest of eternity in here with you, than face her again!'

Before Sydney could respond, a reply finally came, in a deep, instantly recognisable voice: 'Professor Fox? Is that you?'

'Giles!' yelled Sydney. 'We're in here! Tess pushed down the ancient stones. We can't move them from this side. You might need to get help!'

Both Sydney and Nigel were slightly surprised when the reply came in an authoritative female voice: 'The outside of the top stone is wedged against the tree trunk. If we can move that, it should budge.'

'Great!' responded Sydney, slightly perplexed. 'And who are you?'

'It's Carolyn,' whispered Nigel, 'the woman I told you about. The one who saved me before - twice!'

The voice from without confirmed this, and then continued with its instructions: 'Now, you two push from the inside, we'll sort things out here. Giles! Don't put your foot there, you silly boy, the stone will fall upon it… all together now, everyone…PUSH!'

……………………………………….

It took some effort but, in about ten minutes, Sydney and Nigel were freed from the place they had feared would become their premature tomb, and where their souls had been laid bare.

There was no blinding sunlight to greet them as they finally returned to the world, but even the pale dawn glow caused Sydney to shield her eyes as she clambered over the now fallen rocks, and she stumbled a little. Her hand clasped Nigel's, as he reached to steady her, having gone ahead; she detained it long enough to brush her thumb lovingly over his palm and wrist.

'Thanks Nige,' she smiled.

'It's a pleasure.' A smile flickered on his lips also, although his gaze purveyed a deep, imploring sincerity.

Sydney ran her grateful eyes over him, from head to toe. 'Did he feel or look any different,' she thought, 'now that our last secrets have been shattered?' It was with a strange relief that she realised he did not. He was still Nigel. He also had his jumper on inside out and back to front, and she took great pleasure in unnecessarily helping him strip it off and put it back on again, and then in tucking in the label at the back.

Carolyn and Giles, on the other hand, were both impatiently enraptured by what now seemed of secondary importance to Sydney and Nigel: the barrow!

'Did you find the staff?' entreated Giles, springing up and down on the balls of his massive feet. Nigel shook his head.

'What about Odo?' demanded Carolyn. 'Was she inside?'

The inherent knowledge betrayed by the second question caused Sydney to rip her mind back to the hunt: 'Yeah, we found her skeleton. You knew that Odo was a woman?'

'A woman!' spluttered Giles. 'A woman was a bishop in the mediaeval church? Saints alive!'

As he spoke, Carolyn seized both of Sydney's hands, evidently overjoyed. 'I always knew she was a woman, Sydney! I had no evidence, but from everything I read about her… I knew. Somehow, I knew. You understand me, don't you? Sometimes, we women just know things. It's about faith, I suppose.'

'I do understand,' replied Sydney. She instinctively liked the elder woman, even if she did not yet trust her. 'Before we start revolutionising the gender history of the mediaeval church, though, there's a few questions I want answered…'

Indeed, Carolyn - and Giles - both had a lot of explaining to do! It turned out that the museum curator had only deserted Stewie because he spotted an approaching 'sister' - Tess, he thought - with a man. He had run off into the forest, fearing being seized like Nigel and Henchard, and then promptly got lost, only to be discovered by Carolyn. The 'sisterhood' elder had been in search of Sydney and Nigel, to warn them that Reiner had escaped, apparently in league with Tess, who had seemingly deserted the sisterhood. After reassuring Giles that she was no threat to him, they had then joined forces, and shared knowledge, in order to find the barrow.

'So I'm innocent,' protested Giles.

'I believe you,' growled Sydney, 'But if you desert us again, you'll regret it.' She turned to Carolyn: 'What about you and your 'sisters'? There are rules in this country against kidnap, aren't there?'

'You're a passionate woman, Sydney Fox,' replied Carolyn, calmly. 'Wouldn't you do anything – anything - to save a place you love?'

'It's the people I love that mean the most to me,' said Sydney, matter-of-factly. 'I can see why you had to stop Henchard and Reiner – though I question your methods - but why take Nigel?'

'That wasn't my doing,' sighed Carolyn, brushing off a speck of the plentiful grime that now clung to her long, flowing skirt. 'I would have prevented it, had I known. Tess took the initiative there.' Glancing at Nigel, she added: 'and I think the others just got a little carried away. As you know only too well, your assistant is a very attractive man.'

'Yeah, I know,' husked Syd, suppressing a smirk as Nigel muttered and blushed.

'I've never trusted Tess,' admitted Carolyn. 'She's developed some sort of obsession with Nigel, and him being 'the one,' and now she's gone AWOL! It is she and that German relic hunter that we ought to be looking for now.'

'You're right,' conceded Sydney. 'They've already taken a precious necklace from the barrow. If Reiner gets his hands on the staff, he will just sell them both to the highest bidder, and there's no knowing what that blonde bimbo will do…'

'Tess isn't a bimbo. I wish she were!' said Carolyn regretfully. 'She's a sharp woman, and has long been interested in the dark side of Earth Mother worship… I've now got a nasty feeling she believes that Odo actually performed human sacrifice to the Earth Mother!'

'I can well believe that,' shuddered Nigel.

'She's also a black belt in karate,' added Carolyn.

'Yeah, I noticed,' mumbled Sydney, remembering her bruises. 'Okay, here's the plan. We've got to find that pony before Tess and Giles do. Chances are that Stewie's not far from the field by the pub. I suggest we head back there, and start a search. Anybody got a clue which way it is?'

Carolyn, although she had never found the barrow before, had an excellent feel for the geography of the forest, and plunged confidently off into the trees.

As Sydney was on the verge of following, however, Nigel wrapped a tentative hand around her arm. She spun back towards him, quick enough to spy him glancing affectionately back at the barrow, before turning to her: 'You did mean it, didn't you? What you said… about the skeletons, and about us. And then what happened…it wasn't just because you were worried we might rot in there?'

'Come on Nige, you know I did. Besides, I never thought we were going to die,' said Sydney, almost telling the truth. 'Everything always does turn out all right, doesn't it? So, yes. I meant every word.' A smile dimpled her cheeks. 'It would have been a hell of a shame to spend the rest of eternity with you in the dark. I'm kind of fond of looking at you.'

Nigel beamed at her; it was a grin she knew intimately well, that had an increasing ability to ignite her deepest passions. 'Thank you,' he answered, and then paused, his smile growing broader. 'I don't think I'd have looked good after the first thousand years, anyway, and I really wanted to see you again. I don't know why, I just couldn't stop thinking about those dimples.' He lifted his fingers to touch them, now displayed to their full adorability: Sydney's smile radiantly matched his, tinged with a pleasant surprise at his forwardness, here in broad daylight. Then again, she had just declared her eternal love for him…

She gently shooed his fingers away. 'Come on, Nige. We've got work to do. Although, when we're through with this thing, the next place I want to be trapped with you is the bathroom…'

…………………………………….

After several hours of mooching around in the forest near to the inn, it occurred to Sydney that searching for a single pony - or, indeed, a pony-digested key - in what could be up to fifty square miles of forest, was on a par with the most labourious relic hunt she had ever been on, and somewhat less fun. It didn't help that the forest was full of similar such ponies, each of which raised their hopes when spotted from a distance.

All the same, Sydney and Nigel were convinced they would know 'that bloody pony' when they saw him up close. All of the others had a docile, nigh-bovine glaze on their mud-brown, long lashed eyes. Even Sydney had now decided that she would recognise Stewie, not just from his distinctive appearance, but from the lively glint of the devil, dancing within his beady, black orbs.

Around midday, Nigel wandered over to Sydney, looking thoroughly fed up. 'This is hopeless. We'll never find this ruddy key. Besides I'm sick of picking through the…the 'you know.' If I have to excavate another pile, I think I'll be physically ill!'

Sydney cringed sympathetically. 'We've got to stick at it. Look, Carolyn's gone to the pub to grab us some sandwiches. You'll feel better when you've had something to eat.'

'Too right I will!' grumbled Nigel. 'I'm going to find a stream to wash my hands.'

Just then, Giles lumbered over looking rather pleased with himself. 'Tell me you've found something!' pleaded Nigel, clenching his fists impatiently.

'Um, no,' admitted the curator. 'But I have had an idea. I've got a metal detector back at the museum. It will only take the hour to drive back and get it. And then we can check every pile of poo in the forest for the key, without even getting our hands dirty!'

'Great idea!' ejaculated Sydney. 'Nigel and I will walk you back to your car - just in case Tess and Reiner are hanging around.'

'The man's a genius!' exclaimed Nigel, genuinely impressed. 'And while we're walking past the pub, I think I might just order some chips to go with those sandwiches…'

………………………..

Nigel's dreams of a slap up meal and a pint were dashed when Sydney insisted that they stuck with the take-away, and returned to the forest immediately. His spirits dwindled further when, several hours later, Giles still had not returned, and Sydney insisted they got 'interactive' with the dung again.

In more than a slight huff, Nigel offered to check out the field immediately by the Flighty Filly Inn. He could drink in its homely sights and sounds, even if he couldn't partake in its pleasures! He also quietly hoped a kindly passer-by might agree to bring him out those chips!

Sydney agreed, not least because she was keen to have a quiet word with Carolyn. Once alone in the forest, she asked her burning question:

'So let's get this straight. This ritual of yours doesn't involve the sacrifice of cute young guys.'

'Not at all, dear! Odo believed that an offering of a husband should be made to the Earth Mother each year on the first day of spring. So the 'sisters' all join as one, symbolic of the Earth Mother and, err, take a husband. I suppose that was a liberal dose of flower power in our version of it - Valerie and I interpreted the mediaeval text that way when we were at university – but it's all rather jolly!'

'Jolly?' echoed Sydney incredulously. 'I'm not sure what Tess has in mind is 'jolly'…'

Further inquiries were interrupted by two, simultaneous shouts.

'Syd - there's a grey pony on the horizon that looks just like Stewie!'

'Professor Fox, 'that bloody pony' has been sighted in the centre of the village!'

Nigel and Giles both ran up, breathless, from opposite directions. 'Oh,' panted Nigel, registering the other man's presence and words. 'There can't be two of him...thank God.'

'I've been asking around,' said Giles. 'Some girls told me an angry-looking grey pony was wandering in the Market Square.'

'The one I saw looked pretty much like him, too. What's our first move, Sydney?'

'We're going to act quickly before he vanishes again! You and Giles head back to the village. Carolyn and I will check on the ponies in the field, and be right behind…'

'Fine.' Nigel motioned at Giles with his head. 'Let's go…'

……………………

An eerie tranquillity hung in the air as Nigel and Giles passed up towards the little Market Square, which lay at the centre of the village. There was absolutely nobody about: no flat-capped farmer on his way to the pub, no cycle-bound tourists, and not even one of the omnipresent, shaggy, long nosed ponies. The curtains of the terraced cottages, which now lined the road, were all tightly shut.

'It's, um, rather quiet around here, isn't it?' ventured Nigel.

'Not really,' gushed Giles, 'Little Hintock is in the middle of nowhere!'

'Come off it, Giles, this is England! Over fifty million inhabitants in just 50,000 square miles? It's never this quiet, not in a village, anyway.'

Giles shrugged. 'Maybe there was a bad weather forecast? Everybody's stayed at home.'

Nigel momentarily froze, as a terrible thought struck him. He glanced nervously at his watch: 'Do you make it 5 p.m.?'

Giles checked his own timepiece: 'Yes! Goodness, is that the time already?'

'Yes,' said Nigel slowly. 'And it's the eve of the first day of spring. Have you any idea what time that… Bunny Chase starts?

Fear flashed across Giles's face, reflecting Nigel's own misgivings, and the museum creator suddenly wondered if the group of pretty girls, who'd offered him the information about the pony, had ulterior motives.

'It can't be here,' said Giles hopefully. 'They'd be more people around. We better take care though. We wouldn't want to get 'embroiled,' and all that.'

'Absolutely not!' said Nigel firmly. 'Let's be careful. I'm sure Sydney will be here in a minute, and then there'll be nothing to worry about.'

They cautiously rounded the end of the lane and came to a pause at the edge of the town square, as a very slow clock over the village bakery struck quarter to five. Beyond the tinny chimes, the square had an initial air of emptiness: there were certainly no ponies about. Despite the voiceless silence however, the square certainly wasn't the devoid of people. Nigel took a step back and gasped.

Clustered on the other side of the square, were around thirty or forty girls. Some of them were wearing white robes, but none of them had their hoods drawn up; others were clad in fashionable mini dresses and tight leggings, dolled up and ready for a night on the town. As Giles and Nigel gawped in shock, there came a collective squeal:

'Men!'

'Look - two of them!'

The group began advancing towards them, as Giles and Nigel backed nervously away, wondering why their legs had not yet mustered the will to scarper.

'Oh, one of them is that boring museum guy from Wintoncaster,' came a derogatory moan.

'But the other ones that deadly cute relic hunter!' rejoindered a far more joyful chirp.

'He's 'the one'!'

'Have you come to chase us, Nigel?'

'Um…no!' squeaked Nigel, the sudden grip of panic causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. 'We're looking for a pony, but he's not here, so I'm afraid we are…just going….'

By the time he had uttered the final words, Nigel had turned on his heels and was tearing back up the street as fast as his legs would carry him. Giles was pounding and puffing after him like a hunted bear, and behind him followed the collective clatter of dozens of pairs of high heels and sandals, accompanied by a symphony of squeals, and cries of malevolent delight.

Notching his speed up to maximum - surely enough to put daylight between him and the others? - Nigel saved just another breath to yell at the top of his voice: 'SYDNEY!!!!!'

…………………………………

Sydney and Carolyn were just climbing over the style into the field behind the pub, having had no luck finding Stewie, when strange things began to happen.

Firstly, a small figure darted out from the pub car park, making a beeline for the forest at a speed which surely would have broken the four-minute mile.

'Nigel? Nigel! Where are you going?'

Sydney was about to start towards him when she was distracted by a second, much larger form, which lumbered into the field, and then collapsed to his knees raising his hands in surrender. At that moment, the field was flooded with what seemed like hundreds of women. A couple stopped by Giles, and gathered him in their arms, smothering him with pats and kisses, rather pleased with their find.

Most, however, were evidently after the greater prize, and sped straight past the fallen museum man. They wanted nothing less than the lovely Nigel: 'the one!'

'My, that boy can run!' exclaimed Carolyn, her voice sounding from some distance behind the now sprinting Sydney.

'He can when he has too! Are you quite sure that none of them, apart from Tess, might be into human sacrifice?' called Sydney, back over her shoulder.

'I don't think so, dear,' sighed Carolyn, hoisting up her now very muddy long skirt as she tripped down the field. 'But I'm starting to feel a little out of touch with 21st-century girls and their ways!'

Syd was just conjecturing whether to try and gain on Nigel, or to concentrate on cutting the girls off at the pass, when things took a turn for the sinister. A white van screeched through the pub car-park, and straight into the field, sending 'sisters' screaming and flying in all directions.

'Tess!' hissed Sydney under her breath. 'I've got to reach Nigel before that bitch does! She was relieved to observe that Nigel had nearly reached the forest. Although Tess was gaining on him fast, the van could never follow him in there.

As Nigel plunged into the trees, the van juddered to a halt. The barmaid, dressed in a practical tracksuit and trainers under her robes, leapt out, all the while barking instructions to somebody – Reiner? - inside the vehicle. She then charged off after Nigel, as several of the 'sisters' overtook her, hoping to be first to reach their prey.

Despite the growing twinge in her ankle, Sydney hit the tree-line around the same time as the bulk of the 'sisters', but a little further up the field.

'Hold on in there, Nigel!' she yelled into the woodland. 'I'm coming!'

Still seeking a better plan, then, Sydney joined the other four dozen females - including a potential homicidal maniac - on her assistants' tail. Like each of them, she desperately hoped that she would be the one to catch Nigel first!

Thanks for reading. Please review.

If anybody is interested, the skeletons discovered in Mantua were real, and were reported on Yahoo! News on Valentine's Day.