gns.thedruidconnection-第16部分

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　　'I　could　hazard　a　dozen　guesses；'　Sabat　whispered；　'but　I　don't　believe　in　wasting　brainpower　on　wild　possibilities。　We'll　find　out　soon　enough。'
　　
　　The　full　moon　was　high　in　a　cloudless　sky；　the　ethereal　light　illuminating　the　jagged　rows　of　untended　graves　with　their　moss…covered　headstones。　Silent　and　eerie；　fringed　by　a　wall　of　shadow　that　could　have　hidden　a　thousand　evils。
　　
　　Then　they　saw　Kent！　There　was　something　sinister　about　the　fact　that　they　found　him　so　easily；　the　way　he　sat　almost　nonchalantly　on　the　edge　of　the　big　grave。
　　
　　There　he　is！'　Sabat　drew　back；　his　warning　systems　beginning　to　vibrate；　goose　pimpling　the　nape　of　his　neck。　'But　whoever　he　came　with　has　gone　。。。　or　else　they're　hiding　somewhere！'
　　
　　'I　　　don't　　like　　it；'　　Sheenah　　sensed　　her　panion's　foreboding；　clutched　at　his　arm。　'He's　just　sitting　there　like　it　was　a　warm　sunny　afternoon　and　he　needed　a　rest！'　'Kent；'　Sabat　called　softly；　saw　the　other　turn　and　stare　in　their　direction。　'What　the　hell　are　you　doing　here？　You'll　catch　pneumonia。'
　　
　　'Hello；'　the　Fleet　Street　man　remained　seated。　'I　was　just　reading　the　inscription　on　this　tomb。　e　and　see　for　yourself；　Sabat。　It　could　throw　some　light　on　recent　happenings。'
　　
　　Sabat　almost　broke　into　a　run　but　checked　himself。　There　was　something　decidedly　queer　about　all　this。　They　had　read　the　lettering　on　that　gravestone　the　previous　night　when　they　had　e　upon　Sheenah　lying　there　。　。　。　and　that　had　been　a　trap；　too！　He　walked　slowly　forward；　a　hunting　cat　suspecting　that　he　might　just　be　the　hunted。
　　
　　Three　yards　separated　them　from　the　journalist　。　。　。　two　。　。　。　and　suddenly　Sheenah　was　pulling　at　Sabat's　arm；　trying　to　drag　him　back；　screaming　hysterically；　'Sabat。　。　。　he's　got　a　swordr
　　
　　Kent　leaped　to　his　feet；　whirled　towards　them；　something　in　his　hand　that　sparkled　and　glittered　as　it　was　swung　aloft；　scintillating　moonbeams　turned　to　ruby　red；　a　flashing　weapon　that　swung　viciously　towards　the　newers；　a　thrust　and　blow　from　the　hand　of　a　master　swordsman。
　　
　　Sheenah　screamed　her　terror　even　as　she　flung　herself　forward；　disengaging　herself　from　Sabat；　spreading　herself　across　his　body；　an　instant　human　shield。　The　blade　struck　true　with　a　juddering　force　that　almost　wrenched　it　from　Kent's　hand；　the　point　going　in　deep　just　below　the　girl's　left　breast；　tearing　and　shredding　material　and　flesh；　jarring　on　bone。　And　even　as　Sheenah　sagged　forward　it　was　wrenched　free；　wielded　again。
　　
　　Sabat's　brain　worked　with　the　speed　of　a　puter；　processing　data　in　a　split　second；　collaborating　with　his　inbuilt　alarm　system；　warning　him；　giving　him　the　full　facts；　spurring　him　into　instant　action。　Sheenah　was　dead；　nothing　could　save　her　now。　Kent　was　turned　into　a　homicidal　madman　and　Sabat　was　his　next　victim。　Defence　was　out　of　the　question　so　all　that　was　left　was　…　attack！
　　
　　It　took　but　a　fraction　of　a　second　before　Sabat　had　launched　into　action；　his　whole　body　flung　forward　in　a　rugby…style　tackle　before　Sheenah's　corpse　had　even　hit　the　ground。
　　
　　The　sword　blade　cut　viciously　downwards；　would　have　severed　his　head　had　he　been　where　he　was　that　split　second　earlier。　He　felt　a　rush　of　air；　something　snagging　at　his　jacket。　Then　he　hit　Kent；　his　shoulder　taking　the　Fleet　Street　man　in　the　groin；　the　two　of　them　hurtling　backwards　into　the　solid　marble　headstone；　falling　in　a　heap。
　　
　　There　was　no　pause；　no　respite　to　regain　their　breath。　The　shuddering　impact　was　merely　the　beginning　of　a　hand…to…hand　struggle；　and　Kent　still　had　the　sword！　Sabat　gripped　the　other's　wrist；　tried　to　wrest　the　weapon　from　his　hold　but　suddenly；　it　seemed；　the　journalist　was　imbued　with　tremendous　strength　and　cunning！　Kent　seemed　to　go　limp；　and　even　as　his　muscles　relaxed；　they　taughtened　into　a　double…action　retaliation。　A　knee　shot　up；　found　its　mark　in　Sabat's　groin；　doubling　him　up　while　in　the　same　movement　the　cropped　head　came　down　and　butted　him　in　the　face。
　　
　　Sabat　saw　flashing　lights　that　had　nothing　at　all　to　do　with　moonbeams　glinting　on　rubies；　and　a　blackness　hovered　and　threatened　as　though　the　surrounding　shadows　encroached　to　e　to　the　aid　of　their　own。　He　tasted　blood；　rode　a　wave　of　nausea；　and　came　back　fighting。
　　
　　He　clung　grimly　to　the　sword　arm　so　that　it　could　not　be　raised　again；　keeping　the　keen　edge　at　a　distance。　And　in　that　close　encounter　he　was　aware　of　both　Kent's　superb　strength　and　the　evil　force　which　drove　him　to　unbelievable　efforts。　Sabat　realised；　as　he　hung　on　for　his　life；　that　physically　he　could　not　match　the　other。
　　
　　Sabat　snorted　and　cleared　the　blood　from　his　nostrils；　tasted　its　iron　flavour　in　his　mouth　as　he　gulped　for　air。　Still　alive；　but　no　way　could　he　match　the　strength　of　this　powerful　evil　in　the　form　of　Kent；　the　journalist。
　　
　　A　roaring　filled　Sabat's　ears　like　the　pounding　of　a　mighty　waterfall　and　the　blackness　closed　in　again。　Despair　threatened　to　engulf　him；　hopelessness　because　his　strength　was　waning；　but　he　threw　it　off　with　a　colossal　effort。　Now　he　heard　laughter；　mocking　tones　which　he　recognised　as　Quentin's。　Damn　it；　he　wasn't　giving　up；　he'd　fight　them　all　the　way。
　　
　　Kent　was　trying　to　knee　him　again；　powerful　blows　that　took　Sabat　on　the　thigh；　jarring　him。　Suddenly　Sabat　loosened　his　grip；　jerked　his　hand　free　and　plunged　it　into　his　pocket。　The　…38　was　a　temptation。　One　bullet　would　have　blasted　Kent　into　eternity　and　then　he　could　have　destroyed　the　evil　which　had　taken　over　the　flesh　of　his　friend。　No；　there　was　another　way。　。　。　。
　　
　　Sabat　held　the　small　crucifix　between　his　fingers　when　Kent　dealt　him　a　powerful　jab；　a　shuddering　body　punch　that　sent　him　spinning；　tore　his　grip　from　the　sword…arm　and　sprawled　him　full…length。
　　
　　'Now；　Sabat！'　Kent's　voice　was　a　rasp；　almost　unrecognisable　from　the　familiar　soft　tones。　'You　have　tried　to　destroy　us；　the　ancient　Oke　Priests；　but　instead　we　shall　destroy　your
　　
　　Sabat　saw　the　upraised　sword；　knew　there　was　no　way　he　would　be　able　to　twist　himself　out　of　its　path。　Certain　instant　death　glinted　redly　and　Quentin　was　laughing　again。　His　arm　went　back；　shot　forward。
　　
　　One　last　effort；　enough　faith　to　know　that　it　would　work；　that　the　hurtling　crucifix　would　be　faster　than　the　descending　sword　blade；　that　it　would　find　its　mark。
　　
　　Kent　screamed；　a　cry　that　embodied　physical　pain　and　mortal　terror。　The　sword　seemed　to　check；　then　was　suddenly　wrested　from　his　grasp　like　a　twig　being　snapped　from　a　bough　in　the　teeth　of　a　gale；　whipped　away；　clattering　against　that　marble　headstone；　its　glittering　hilt　dulled。
　　
　　The　journalist　straightened　up；　clutched　at　his　face　as　though　it　had　suddenly　been　scalded　by　boiling　water。　The　scream　died　to　a　moan　and　he　began　to　sob；　floundering　and　clutching　at　the　tombstone　for　support。
　　
　　Sabat　called　upon　his　last　resources；　remnants　of　a　shattered　physical　strength　that　responded　to　his　demands。　This　time　Kent's　struggles　were　feeble　as　he　was　borne　back；　flung　to　the　ground　with　Sabat　on　top　of　him。
　　
　　Sabat　stared　down　into　the　features　he　knew　so　well；　now　barely　recognisable；　twisted　with　hate　and　evil　。　。　。　and　fear！　Mouthing　obscenities；　calling　upon　the　forces　of　darkness　to　e　to　his　aid；　physically　spent。
　　
　　Sabat　wet　his　forefinger；　made　the　sign　of　the　cross　on　the　forehead　of　the　man　he　pinned　to　the　ground。　Kent　screamed　again；　struggled；　but　that　unbelievable　strength　was　now　reduced　to　mortal　proportions。
　　
　　'I　am　sorry；　my　friend；'　Sabat　murmured；　'but　it　is　the　only　way；　apart　from　killing　you。　It　will　hurt；　scorch　your　soul；　but　once　the　evil　has　been　driven　out　you　will　be　all　right。'
　　
　　Kent's　eyes　blazed　momentary　hate；　then　gave　way　to　terror；　fighting　blindly　as　he　panicked；　but　even　a　weakened　and　injured　Sabat　was　too　much　for　him。
　　
　　'I　mand　you；　evil　spirit；'！　Sabat's　voice　was　rich　and　powerful；　vibrating　in　the　still　night　air；　〃in　the　Name　of　God　the　Father　Almighty；　in　the　Name　of　Jesus　Christ　his　only　Son；　and　in　the　Name　of　the　Holy　Spirit；　that　harming　no　one；　you　depart　from　this　creature　of　God；　Kent；　and　return　to　the　place　appointed　you；　there　to　remain　forever。'
　　
　　Sabat　prayed　that　his　efforts　would　be　enough；　that　his　faith　would　triumph　for　he　had　no　holy　water　to　sprinkle　upon　the　unfortunate　possessed。　Even　as　he　watched；　Kent's　expression　changed；　escalating　terror　that　reached　its　peak；　brought　with　it　violent　convulsions。　It　seemed　that　the　Fleet　Street　man　was　undergoing　a　fit；　eyes　rolling　until　only　the　whites　showed　like　some　upturned　puppet；　spittle　frothing　from　the　lips；　every　muscle　straining　as　he　tried　in　vain　to　throw　off　his　attacker。　Then；　suddenly；　he　went　limp；　eyes　closed；　his　breathing　barely　audible。
　　
　　Sabat　straightened　up；　expelled　his　breath　slowly；　aware　how　every　nerve　in　his　body　trembled。　He　glanced　around　him；　saw　the　sword　lying　there　and　picked　it　up。　Even　as　he　handled　it　he　detected　faint　vibrations　as　though　a　minute　electric　current　ran　from　hilt　to　blade　and　back　again。
　　

　　'Incredible；'　he　muttered。　'Almost　too　incredible　to　be　true！'
　　
　　He　found　his　fallen　crucifix　and　returned　it　to　his　pocket；　he　might　have　need　of　it　again　before　this　night　was　through。　As　he　turned　back；　Kent　was　stirring；　sitting　up。
　　
　　'What　the　hell's　going　on？　How　did　I　。。。　get　here？'
　　
　　'What　is　the　last　thing　you　remember？'　Sabat　rested　his　back　on　the　big　headstone；　watched　the　other　carefully。
　　
　　'I　was　in　the　pub　。。。　a　drink　。　。　。　talking　to　some　guy　。　。　。　Christ；　he　must've　slipped　me　a　Mickey　Finn！'
　　
　　'Similar；'　Sabat　replied；　'only　a　thousand　times　stronger。　You　were　possessed　by　a　spirit；　Kent。　A　very　evil　one。　Don't　worry；　I've　exorcised　you。　It　won't　e　back。'
　　
　　'That's　。　。　。　that's　a　sword　。　。　。　'　Kent　was　on　his　feet；　swaying。　'And；　oh　My　God；　that's　。　。　。　that's　Sheenah　。　。　。　she's　not　。　。　。　she　isn't；　is　she？'
　　
　　'I'm　afraid　she　is；'　Sabat's　voice　quavered　and　only　by　a　supreme　effort　did　he　stop　himself　from　breaking　down。　Tm　afraid　even　I　can't　bring　her　back　to　life；