could be a misunderstanding. Sahir had been definite about an enormous disaster in this general neighborhood, somewhat
futureward of this night. No use trying to untangle the whole skein in an hour. Knot by knot, that was the way. Erissa’s home
wasn’t too distant geographically, was it? Not according to Sahir. Okay, begin with that.
‘Tell me,’ Reid said, ‘where are you from?’
‘What?’ She hesitated. ‘Well… I was many places after we parted. I’m now on the island Malath. Before then – oh, many places,
Duncan, always longing for the home where you found me.’
‘The what? Where? Say its name. Where were you then?’
She shook her head. Murky though the night was, he could see her tresses ripple beneath the stars. ‘You know that, Duncan,’
she said puzzledly.
‘Tell me anyhow,’ he insisted.
‘Why, Kharia-ti-yeh.’ Land of the Pillar, Reid translated. Erissa went on, anxious to make herself clear in the face of his
baffling ignorance: ‘Or, as they called it on the mainland, Atlantis.’
CHAPTER SIX
Awakening from sleep was strange. It locked the final door on escape out of a dream. The twentieth-century world had become
the one remote, fantastic, not wholly comprehensible as existent.
‘I’m going on scout while my horse can serve me,’ Uldin declared, and took off. He appeared less worn than his companions,
maybe because his best appearance was so uncouth. While he was gone, the rest sought refuge in the sea. Sticks, lashed together
with thongs cut from Oleg’s belt, made a framework on which to hang clothes for protection against direct sunlight and glare
reflected off the water in which they would sit to their necks.
When the awning was ready to be positioned, Erissa slipped off sandals and tunic. Oleg gasped. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked
him innocently.
‘You … a woman … a, well—’ It couldn’t be seen whether the Russian blushed under his beet-red sunburn. Suddenly he laughed.
‘Well, if that’s the kind of girl you are, this needn’t be the worst day of my life!’
She bridled. ‘What do you mean? Put down those hands!’
‘She’s not of your people, Oleg,’ Reid explained. It was obvious to him: ‘Among hers, nakedness is respectable.’ Nevertheless
he felt shy about stripping before her. Taut and lithe, scarcely marked by the children she had borne, her body was the goodliest
he had ever seen.
‘Well, turn your eyes, then, wench, till I’ve waded out decently deep,’ Oleg huffed.
Once laved and cooled, they felt better. Even the thirst was easier to bear. Oleg grudgingly imitated Erissa in following
Reid’s advice about sipping from the sea. ‘I don’t believe, mind you,’ he said. ‘It’ll kill us off the faster in the end.
But if we can keep going thus for a while, a bit stronger than otherwise, maybe the saints can find help to send us. You hear
me?’ he shouted at the sky. ‘A golden chalice set with precious stones for the Church of St. Boris. Six altar cloths of the
finest silk, and scores of pearls sewn on, for St. Mary.’ He paused. ‘I’d best say that in Russian and Romaic too. And, oh,
yes, Norse.’
Reid couldn’t resist japing: ‘Your saints have not been born.’Oleg looked stricken. The American added hastily, ‘Well, I could be wrong, I suppose,’ No sense in pointing out that Christ
– that Abraham, most likely – was also in the future.
He turned to Erissa. ‘Sleep has cleared my head,’ he went on. ‘Let me think hard about what we know.’ And let me stop being
so damned aware of what I glimpse of you through the water, his mind added guiltily.
He made careful inquiries of them both, pausing for long times to ponder. They regarded him with respect. Uldin hadn’t shown
that; but he had barked curt answers to a few key questions before he left.
Oleg proved a diamond mine of information. Reid decided that the Russian’s bluff manner must be in a large part a
futureward of this night. No use trying to untangle the whole skein in an hour. Knot by knot, that was the way. Erissa’s home
wasn’t too distant geographically, was it? Not according to Sahir. Okay, begin with that.
‘Tell me,’ Reid said, ‘where are you from?’
‘What?’ She hesitated. ‘Well… I was many places after we parted. I’m now on the island Malath. Before then – oh, many places,
Duncan, always longing for the home where you found me.’
‘The what? Where? Say its name. Where were you then?’
She shook her head. Murky though the night was, he could see her tresses ripple beneath the stars. ‘You know that, Duncan,’
she said puzzledly.
‘Tell me anyhow,’ he insisted.
‘Why, Kharia-ti-yeh.’ Land of the Pillar, Reid translated. Erissa went on, anxious to make herself clear in the face of his
baffling ignorance: ‘Or, as they called it on the mainland, Atlantis.’
CHAPTER SIX
Awakening from sleep was strange. It locked the final door on escape out of a dream. The twentieth-century world had become
the one remote, fantastic, not wholly comprehensible as existent.
‘I’m going on scout while my horse can serve me,’ Uldin declared, and took off. He appeared less worn than his companions,
maybe because his best appearance was so uncouth. While he was gone, the rest sought refuge in the sea. Sticks, lashed together
with thongs cut from Oleg’s belt, made a framework on which to hang clothes for protection against direct sunlight and glare
reflected off the water in which they would sit to their necks.
When the awning was ready to be positioned, Erissa slipped off sandals and tunic. Oleg gasped. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked
him innocently.
‘You … a woman … a, well—’ It couldn’t be seen whether the Russian blushed under his beet-red sunburn. Suddenly he laughed.
‘Well, if that’s the kind of girl you are, this needn’t be the worst day of my life!’
She bridled. ‘What do you mean? Put down those hands!’
‘She’s not of your people, Oleg,’ Reid explained. It was obvious to him: ‘Among hers, nakedness is respectable.’ Nevertheless
he felt shy about stripping before her. Taut and lithe, scarcely marked by the children she had borne, her body was the goodliest
he had ever seen.
‘Well, turn your eyes, then, wench, till I’ve waded out decently deep,’ Oleg huffed.
Once laved and cooled, they felt better. Even the thirst was easier to bear. Oleg grudgingly imitated Erissa in following
Reid’s advice about sipping from the sea. ‘I don’t believe, mind you,’ he said. ‘It’ll kill us off the faster in the end.
But if we can keep going thus for a while, a bit stronger than otherwise, maybe the saints can find help to send us. You hear
me?’ he shouted at the sky. ‘A golden chalice set with precious stones for the Church of St. Boris. Six altar cloths of the
finest silk, and scores of pearls sewn on, for St. Mary.’ He paused. ‘I’d best say that in Russian and Romaic too. And, oh,
yes, Norse.’
Reid couldn’t resist japing: ‘Your saints have not been born.’Oleg looked stricken. The American added hastily, ‘Well, I could be wrong, I suppose,’ No sense in pointing out that Christ
– that Abraham, most likely – was also in the future.
He turned to Erissa. ‘Sleep has cleared my head,’ he went on. ‘Let me think hard about what we know.’ And let me stop being
so damned aware of what I glimpse of you through the water, his mind added guiltily.
He made careful inquiries of them both, pausing for long times to ponder. They regarded him with respect. Uldin hadn’t shown
that; but he had barked curt answers to a few key questions before he left.
Oleg proved a diamond mine of information. Reid decided that the Russian’s bluff manner must be in a large part a
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