Disclaimers: as before.

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CHAPTER THREE: Cold, wet and warm.

Nigel gritted his teeth as a shaky hand thrust the blade close against his flesh. Sydney could tell the knifeman wasn't a professional: that was what scared her. She honestly didn't think he would deliberately kill Nigel, but if she startled him, that knife could slip.

She raised hers hand slowly, as if to show she came in peace. 'Let him go,' she said placidly. 'You're going to hurt him.'

The captor flinched, as if disturbed by the concept. Panic flashed across Nigel's face as the steel nicked his flesh: 'Sydney…' he gasped.

'Put down the knife,' said Syd, moving half a step forward. She still couldn't see the hooded man's face, but she knew he was in a quandary. The consequences of sudden movements could still be fatal.

'I got it,' shouted the second man. 'All the research is here. Where's the key?'

'I'll tell you if you him go,' said Sydney. She couldn't prevent her calm voice cracking.

'It doesn't matter… let's get out of here.' Nigel's possessor whipped away the knife, and pushed his victim violently forward. Nigel landed in the leaves, even as Sydney launched into a high kick that sent the hooded menace flying back into a holly bush.

There was nothing she could do, however, when Nigel's rucksack impacted hard against the back of her head, swung by the second man. As her enemy ripped himself out of the way, it was Sydney who saw stars and descended, face first, into the prickly leaves. The hooded men fled.

'Sydney!'

Sydney was momentarily bewildered as Nigel began to carefully extract her from the viciously biting bush. The green shiny leaves were reluctant to let her go, tearing on her clothes and entangling in her hair. After a second, her wits returned, and she extricated herself, still with Nigel's help.

'Are you all right? You're bleeding!' He lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped the blood from below a bleeding scratch, careful not to touch the injury itself. 'Does it hurt?'

Sydney lifted her hand to his, and gently pushed it away. 'It's nothing,' she dismissed. 'Are you okay…that bastard cut you!' The blade had indeed broken his skin; although the cut was so shallow there was barely any blood. She ran her thumb down his neck, about an inch from the injury.

'I've know worse,' he grimaced. 'Do you think it was the same guy who attacked you last night?'

'Undoubtedly,' said Sydney bitterly.

'What about earlier today, near the marker? Was that him, too?'

Sydney shook her head. 'No. That was a woman. I got the impression she was just watching us, but didn't mean us any harm… what is it?'

Sydney stopped short as an expression of obvious revelation flashed across Nigel's face.

'I've got it!' he cried. 'I've remembered where I saw those robes and symbols before. It was just after I was bitten by the pony on Scout camp.'

'What happened?'

'After 'it' happened, a woman came running over and shooed the pony away. She was very kind to me, and she shouted at Preston and the others for not helping. But I was so upset and angry, and trying so hard not to cry in front of the others, I'm not sure I ever thanked her.'

'She was wearing the same robe?'

'Yes, I think she was. It was long and white - I remember that - and it had funny colourful markings. She seemed to conjure up an ointment out of nowhere, which she put on my arm to sooth it, and then…'

'Then?'

'Then she started to do some rather strange things. She drew a symbol on my forehead with her finger, and said that when I grow up I would be… well, I don't really remember what she said. I couldn't stop thinking about the pony, and I was so furious with my brother. Besides, Preston said she was a Druid. When she asked if our patrol would like to come back to her cottage for jam sandwiches, he wouldn't let us go. He said she'd marked me for a human sacrifice, and that she would come after me, and then chop me into little pieces… ' Nigel rolled his eyes. 'In this day and age!'

Sydney was intrigued. 'Do you think she was a Druid?'

'I wouldn't have been surprised if she wasn't involved in some sort of new age religion. I doubt she bore much resemblance to the pre-Roman Druids. Of course, I knew that all these robe-wearing mystic societies were little more than 19th-century inventions, despite all the rumours that they built Stonehenge… '

'Of course,' said Sydney, with affectionate sarcasm. 'Every 11-year-old has a thorough knowledge of all the conflicting archaeological theories about Stonehenge's origins.'

'Didn't you?' Nigel was genuinely surprised.

'I was a relatively late developer in that field, Nigel, although I guess I could have told you a few surprising facts about the Incas. I take it you never saw her again?'

'No. And it didn't even take place in this part of the forest. It was way over the other side, towards Coombe Castle.'

Sydney knitted her brow, trying to piece together everything she had learnt: 'Your rescuer, the woman in the woods earlier, the robes and the symbols sort of make sense together. It's the guys with knives that don't fit in…and they've got away with the research. Damn!'

'It shouldn't make too much difference for now. If we've read the source right, the barrow is around here somewhere, and we've still got the key… sort of.'

'I guess so,' said Sydney uncertainly. 'But where is the barrow?'

………………………………….

Five hours later.

Nigel sat down heavily on a fallen log, and stared at daggers at Stewie. The pony was, as always, chewing contentedly on the foliage. It gazed nonchalantly back.

'Heart of darkness,' muttered Nigel bitterly, and then returned his attention to his present sufferings.

'Syd… I think we can safely say that there's no barrow here! We've as good as excavated this whole area with our bare hands, and it will be dark soon. Hadn't we better get back?'

Sydney emerged from where she had been painstakingly scraping through yet another patch of undergrowth.

'You're right,' she conceded. 'There's absolutely no sign of anything, let alone Neolithic earthworks. There must be something else in the research.'

'But how are we going to get it back?'

'I don't know,' breathed Syd. 'But I suggest we head back to the pub and find out if anybody knows about any local societies or cults that dress up in white robes. Something must know something… '

'We should speak to Giles. He ought to know.'

'Great idea…what are you sniggering at?'

'Sorry.' Nigel smothered a giggle in the back of his hand. 'It's just... you're covered in mud, and there's a big smudge right on the end of your nose.'

'You're looking pretty filthy yourself, Nigel Bailey!'

'I bet I am!' Nigel jumped up and wiped the splat from Sydney's nose with a clean hanky. 'That's better.'

'Thanks,' she grinned. 'You can keep your dirt for now.' Sydney had never made any secret of the fact that she liked men with a bit of dirt under their fingernails. 'We better head back anyway,' she suggested, glancing up at the ominous grey sky. 'It looks like it's starting to get dark.'

Nigel looked up too, and as he did so a large droplet of water escaped from a cloud, and wove its way down through an obstacle course of twigs and branches and landed on his forehead, only narrowly missing his eye.

He wiped the offending wetness away. 'It looks like it's starting to rain!'

……………………………

It indeed was starting to rain, and it really meant it.

By the time Sydney and Nigel finally spotted the distant lights of the Flighty Filly Inn, they were both very wet, cold and thoroughly miserable.

'Why did they have to take everything in the bag?' moaned Nigel for around the hundredth time. 'They could have just taken the research but, oh no, they had to take my waterproofs as well!'

'Just be grateful the GPS was in your pocket,' said Sydney, slightly snappily. 'Otherwise you'd be sitting out all night with Stewie, waiting for him to do his business!'

'I suppose that is a small consolation,' admitted Nigel. He was quiet for moment, and then added: 'You wouldn't really have made me do that, would you?'

'If you complain about anything more, I'll make you do it anyway!'

It was too dark for them to see each other scowl, and they were silent for the remainder of the trek back to the pub.

As they approached the welcoming glow with the building, Sydney glanced over her shoulder to confirm what she suspected: Stewie had followed them, at a casual distance. He'd only just now stopped, in the field next to the building, where he was chewing on a juicy clump of thistles. The sight of the animal softened her mood, just a little: despite everything, she liked that pony!

………………………………

A bell attached to the door noisily announced their arrival in the bar. Sydney's hair hung limp and damp and she wondered if her stylish, brown leather jacket would ever be the same again. Nigel's wool coat was wet through, and his trousers clung uncomfortably to the back of his legs. Water dripped incessantly off his fringe and trickled down his face.

'I must look like a drowned rat,' he muttered. On catching sight of him, however, Tess instantly dumped a tray of empty glasses and ran over. She obviously begged to differ.

'You poor, poor angel! You're wet through! You must be freezing.' Her arm wrapped familiarly around his waist and she guided him over to the open log fire. Nigel, feeling slightly ambushed, gawped at her like a goldfish.

'I'll just run and get you a nice warm towel, and a steaming hot drink. What would you like? Tea, coffee, cocoa? It's all on the house.' She beamed at him rosily, and adjusted her milkmaid's top to its best advantage.

Sydney rolled her eyes. What was with this woman?

'Um, thank you,' stuttered Nigel through chattering teeth. 'Cocoa would be lovely… Sydney, what would you like?'

It's nice somebody remembers I'm here, thought Sydney. She smiled sarcastically at Tess. 'I'll have a Cocoa too, thanks.'

The response was equally icy: 'I'll see what I can do.' Tess squeezed Nigel's arm - causing Sydney's bile to rise further - and dashed off.

'I don't suppose my cocoa will be on the house,' drawled Sydney. 'Can you believe that woman?'

'Oh… maybe I looked a bit wetter,' suggested Nigel helpfully.

'You can't be any colder than me!' retorted Sydney, rubbing her hands together and holding them in front of the fire. 'My fingers are stiff…I swear they're turning blue.' She wiggled them jerkily to illustrate the point.

Nigel caught her hands between his, which had been defrosting for full extra thirty seconds in front of the fire, and rubbed them. Nigel didn't have large hands – for a guy's, they were positively small - but with hers feeling so sore and fragile, his touch felt strong and comforting.

'Better?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she smiled. 'Thanks…' Her voice trailed off as she was momentarily transfixed by the reflection of dancing flames in Nigel's eyes. 'You look good by firelight,' she told him. Her words were light and jokey.

She couldn't tell if it was a blush or the ferocity of the heat that suddenly brought colour to Nigel's face. 'So do you…' he said quietly.

His gravity ignited a frisson on tension. Compulsively breaking the 'moment', Sydney slowly pulled her hands from his and shook her dripping hair. 'I think I'll go upstairs and run a bath. Will you bring my cocoa up?'

'Of course,' said Nigel. 'If you promise to save some hot water for me!'

'It's a deal,' laughed Sydney. She added in an undertone: 'and if you're not up in ten minutes, I'll come down and rescue you from the clutches of Lady Subtlety, here…'

Nigel feigned confusion. 'Oh, come on! She's not so much as sending you signs as hitting you with a sledgehammer!'

'She's a pretty girl…but, um…you know…'

'Not quite your type?' Nigel shook his head, glad of the escape.

Sydney giggled again and departed rapidly, her joy at the prospect of a hot bath intermingled with a curious thought: Nigel had become rather fussy about women of late.

…………………………………………….

Tess drifted in from the kitchens, just as Sydney flowed from the bar. She carried a tray with two steaming cups of cocoa. A fluffy, white towel was rested over her arm.

'They're you go, love.' She placed the tray down on a low table and held out the towel. 'We can't have you catching cold ahead of the Bunny Chase.' She winked mischievously. 'Do you want me to rub you down?'

Nigel couldn't quite believe her forward nature, but still managed to be polite.

'It's a kind offer, but I need to take this cocoa up to Sydney. She was very cold and I'm a bit worried about her.'

Nigel wondered how this would be received, but Tess's temperament blazed sunnier than ever. 'Of course,' she gurgled. 'Poor lamb! She must be freezing. You make sure you both come back down once you've warmed up, though. I'll do you a nice hot toddy. That'll warm your cockles…' The flow of banalities stopped short as Tess's curiosity sparked. 'Oh, you're hurt!'

She lifted her fingers to the small cut on Nigel's neck. Instinctively, he flinched and stepped back. 'It's nothing,' he dismissed congenially. He wondered if Tess had even noticed the scratch on Sydney's face. 'We were attacked.'

'Attacked? By who?'

Nigel wanted to answer 'by a holly bush,' but Tess's beguiling intensity demanded more. Waiting for his answer, she took the opportunity to wrap the towel around Nigel's shoulders. He felt her fingers tease the wet hair hanging down the back of his neck.

'It was by two men in white robes, with distinctive green and red markings. They stole our research. We are going to ask around, and find out if anybody knows who they were.' He paused, finding Tess's sudden silence unsettling. Now she was behind him, he could no longer see her face, or her reaction. 'Have you any idea who they were?'

'They were probably just local thugs,' she answered pensively. 'Did you call the police?'

'Not yet…' Uninvited, Tess was now massaging his shoulders through the towel.

'Well maybe you shouldn't just yet. I can tell you for a fact that those robes were stolen. The people who dress like that would never have attacked you, but the police might jump to wrong conclusions.'

'That sort of makes sense,' said Nigel. 'Sydney saw a woman dressed like that in the woods earlier, she didn't attack us and I was a little… distracted. We would appreciate it if you could ask around, though.'

Tess nestled her chin into his shoulder and whispered in his ear: 'You just leave it with me, angel.'

Nigel barely contained a squeak as she patted his backside. 'See you later, love!' He turned quickly, undecided whether to be offended or amused, but Tess had moved quickly. All he saw was her ankle disappearing through the door of the kitchen as it swayed shut.

……………………

Nigel fumbled through the door of the bedroom, attempting not to spill any more of the cocoa - there were already several splashes of the sweet liquid drying on the stair carpet. He could feel the dampness in the air from the hot running water, and the windows had steamed up. The bathroom door was a crack open.

'Nige?'

'I've, um… got your cocoa. I'll leave it outside the door.'

'Uh… could you bring it in? I'm soooo warm and comfortable…'

She knew this would make Nigel dither. She smiled through the expected uneasy silence.

'I'm quite respectable,' she added coquettishly. 'No need to be shy.'

Nigel exhaled slowly - he knew this game, too - opened the door and peeped in. Sydney was in the bath, her now clean, damp hair piled high on her head. The bubble bath had risen in mountainous enough proportions to just about conceal her modesty. All the same, there was enough smooth, beautifully toned flesh on display to make any man excited.

He decided to make a dash for it. Keeping his eyes subtly fixed on her reflection in the bathroom mirror, he scuttled in and dumped the cocoa on the carpet by the bath. His swift escape was scuppered when Sydney reached up and grabbed the still soggy fabric of his trouser pocket.

'I can't reach it there.' He detected an ever so slight flutter of her eyelashes. 'Will you hand it to me properly?'

Silently, Nigel obeyed. He wondered if she detected the hint of exasperation in his demeanour. She thanked him, taking the cocoa in one hand, but didn't relinquish her hold on his trousers. Instead, she gained a better grip and rubbed the damp fabric between her fingers.

'You should get out of these wet clothes, Nigel.' Finally letting go, she pointed to the radiator. 'Look. I hung your towel over there to get warm. It's a really nice, big one… why don't you undress and wrap yourself in that, while I finish off here?'

'Fine. Good idea.'

Nigel, who had discarded the towel Tess gave him downstairs, grabbed it and was heading for the door when Sydney added: 'You should wait in here… it's a lot warmer than in the bedroom.'

Nigel stopped in his tracks.

'You can scrub my back, if you like?'

There was a loaded silence.

'Of course, if you'd rather not…'

'Sydney!' exploded Nigel, unable to contain his mounting desperation. 'What on earth are you asking? I mean…I mean…you're naked! Those bubbles aren't going to last forever, you know? And now you want me to get naked and scrub your back?'

'I'm just trying to make sure you don't get too cold!'

'No you're not! You're flirting with me…you're…you're worse than that barmaid!'

'I AM NOT! She practically threw herself at you…'

'At least she kept her clothes on…' Nigel raised a hand to shield his eyes as Sydney shifted in the bath and the bubble level dropped. The reference to the barmaid had stirred Sydney's temper.

'Are you suggesting that I'm throwing myself at you?' She couldn't help snapping.

'No…I'm not….ooooh! I'm very sorry.' Nigel stomped from the room and slammed the door behind him.

………………………………

'Whoops!' thought Sydney, cringing at the sudden noise. 'I didn't mean that to happen…'

She rose from the bath, fixed the towel around herself and, trying not to drip too much, went out into the bedroom. Nigel was sitting on the edge of his bed, still fully clothed. The warm towel was dropped on the floor, and his cocoa was untouched.

He glanced up when she entered, but his eyes darted down quickly again when he spoke. 'Sorry. I suppose walking out like that was a bit rude of me.'

'No,' said Sydney firmly. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong…' The words stopped dead as Sydney absorbed their meaning and Nigel looked up abruptly.

'You were coming on to me?'

'Um…yeah. I guess I was…' She sat down on the bed next to him. 'I suppose I got sort of jealous when that barmaid wouldn't stop pawing you. It kind of felt like…'

Sydney trailed off. She was going to say 'it felt like she was touching something which was mine,' but realized how dangerously that made that made Nigel sound like her property. Was that how she really felt? She concluded, instead: 'I just didn't like it.'

'You were jealous?' Nigel was still registering the first part of her admission. His lips flickered into a tiny smile. 'Since when, Syd?'

'I don't know!' Sydney wasn't laughing. The magnitude of the situation had just hit her. She was madly jealous about another woman touching her TA! 'Since…yesterday, I guess. But…lately, when Karen looked at you, in that way she does, I sort of rankled…'

Nigel was no longer smiling, but was staring at her slightly agog.

'Syd… this is quite, well, drastic, isn't it? I mean, does this change our relationship in any way?'

Sydney pulled an awkward expression.

'And should I start wearing a sack on my head to stop women's advances? It would be as much for their safety, as mine. You can get quite difficult when you're angry…'

'Stop making fun of me!' She slapped him on his shoulder. Her palm thwacked against freezing wet fabric and she realised that, despite the flying hormones, it really was much cooler in the bedroom than the bathroom.

'You're still freezing!' She grabbed the towel and began rubbing his shoulder vigorously. 'Come on, let's get you out of those wet things.'

Nigel started unbuttoning his own shirt before she could intervene. 'Hadn't we better finish this conversation, first?'

Sydney quietly conceded to herself she didn't know quite how to finish it. 'What's more to say? I get jealous when other people touch you.'

'You didn't answer my question about how this… changes things.' He had finished unfastening his shirt to his waist, but he didn't take it off. Instead, he removed two soggy socks as Sydney dithered over him.

'You had better go take your bath…I'm not stalling. I just don't want you to get ill.' She pinched the fabric of his shirt. 'Now take this off! I'm going to run some fresh water…'

She wandered back into the bathroom. Nigel gazed quizzically after her until he knew he was out of her eye line. Then he stripped off quickly and tied the towel around his waist.

He stalked over and silently leaned against the bathroom doorframe. Sydney was kneeling beside the bath, checking the temperature of the running water, and didn't see him at first.

'Of course,' he said suddenly, 'I'm not like one of those girls on the Bunny Chase. You can't just catch me and assume I'm yours…'

Sydney pouted up at him: 'Maybe it's me who wants chasing and catching…' Her coyness evaporated, and she swirled her hand around the bath water. 'It's ready. You can get in, if you like…'

Regardless of his previous flirtatiousness, Nigel looked slightly panicked.

'Don't worry, I'll go! Unless you want me to bring in your cocoa and scrub your back?'

Nigel looked contemplative. For a moment, Sydney actually thought he was going to say yes.

Her hopes were shattered when he said: 'I'll just go grab the cocoa myself.'

'Fine,' she smiled as he momentarily disappeared. She stirred the bath one more time to make sure it was the perfect warmth, and left it. As she brushed past him in the doorway, she whispered: 'don't say I didn't offer…'

'Maybe next time,' murmured Nigel.

As the door closed between them, a fireball of excitement exploded in the pit of Sydney's stomach. Her happiness would have been even greater had she known that Nigel was simultaneously leaning back against the other side of the door. His eyes shut as he absorbed the moment, excitement, anticipation and anxiety coursed through his every sinew.

'I've still got it!' he muttered to himself. 'But now, what else have I got…?'

……………………………………

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