gns.cannibalcult-第16部分

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　　'Can　you　not　return　to　the　white…skinned　forces　who　live　and　die　daily？'　Sabat's　eyes　narrowed　and　again　he　suspected　a　trick　of　some　kind。　This　man　was　neither　senile　nor　so　weak　that　he　could　not　flee；　and　the　way　was　clear　to　him　if　he　so　wished。
　　
　　'I　can　neither　seek　help　from　dark　nor　light。'　A　constricted　sob。　'You　see；　my　friend；　I　am　a　traitor。　I　have　served　both　sides　in　turn。'
　　
　　'Oh？'　Sabat　experienced　an　unexpected　twinge　of　guilt。　Mark　or　Quentin　Sabat；　there　was　a　parallel。　It　might　have　been　himself；　weakened　and　pallid　on　the　floor　before　him。
　　
　　'It　is　true　enough。'　Breath　expelled　in　anguish。　'I　fought　on　the　plains　alongside　my　own　kind。　Then　one　day　I　was　captured。　I　expected　to　be　put　to　the　sword　but　instead　I　was　offered　my　life　in　exchange　for　my　services。　At　the　time　I　could　not　see　what　harm　there　was　in　it；　for　the　warriors　of　both　sides　are　countless；　but　soon　it　was　too　late　and　I　realised　my　mistake；　my　unforgivable　treachery。　I　became　an　outcast；　a　beggar　of　the　streets；　kicked　and　spat　upon　by　both　races　in　their　contempt。　Now　I　serve　nobody；　not　even　myself。　If　I　could　die　then　I　would　do　so　gladly　but　there　is　no　death　here；　only　eternal　strife　and　struggle。　I　shall　always　be　a　traitor　and　here　I　must　hide　forever　from　the　eyes　of　all。　Learn　from　my　fate；　stranger。　A　warrior　can　only　serve　one　faction　else　he　destroys　himself。'
　　
　　Sabat　nodded；　turned　away；　knew　why　he　had　sought　out　this　nameless　sufferer。　As　he　emerged　into　the　weakening　sunlight　above　he　wished　that　he　had　asked　the　other's　name。　It　might　have　been　Mark。　Or　Quentin。　But　there　was　no　time　to　return　now　and　perhaps　it　was　better　not　to　know。
　　
　　A　sudden　sense　of　urgency。　He　had　experienced　it　on　occasions　before；　a　realisation　that　he　had　to　hurry；　that　a　return　to　his　mortal　body　was　imperative。　A　kind　of　instinct。
　　
　　The　loincloth　was　exchanged　for　the　feathers　of　a　peregrine　falcon　once　more；　a　fierce　bird　of　prey　that　hurtled　through　thick　cloud　and　clear　skies；　scattering　smaller　birds　with　shrill　cries　of　fear　as　it　neared　the　earth。　A　flock　of　homing　pigeons　parted　to　allow　him　passage；　their　uncanny　radar　disturbed　so　that　they　flew　round　aimlessly　in　circles　before　bunching　up　again。
　　
　　Sabat　saw　the　lake　first；　a　shimmering　sheet　of　water　sparkling　in　bright　sunlight；　reflecting　the　wooded　mountains　which　towered　above　it。　Veered；　rising　steeply；　swooping　when　he　spotted　the　tiny　insignificant　chapel　buried　amidst　the　dark　forest。　Something　else　too；　a　moving　shiny　orange　shape　that　wound　its　way　up　the　muddy　cart…track。　For　some　reason　Madeleine　Gaufridi　was　returning　in　the　VW！　His　inexplicable　astral　warning　system　had　not　failed　him！
　　
　　With　only　seconds　to　spare　he　entered　his　slumbering　body；　jerked　it　back　to　a　state　of　wake　fullness。　A　few　bemused　seconds　and　then　he　remembered　everything；　was　sitting　up　when　Madeleine　burst　in　through　the　door。
　　
　　'Slothful　cochon！'　her　eyes　blazed　with　anger。　'A　guard；　and　yet　you　sleep　the　day　away。　And　with　danger　imminent；　too！'
　　
　　She　turned；　stalked　towards　the　lead　coffin。　'Here；　give　me　a　hand。　We　must　be　sure　that　everything　is　all　right。'
　　
　　Sabat　gripped　the　edge　of　the　heavy　lid；　felt　an　icy　coldness　spreading　from　his　fingertips　to　the　rest　of　his　body。　He　grunted；　exerted　his　muscles　and　the　lid　came　up　slowly。
　　
　　'Ah；　it　is　。。。　Look？　Madeleine　Gaufridi　almost　fainted；　her　features　blanching；　pointing　down　at　the　body　which　lay　now　only　partially　wrapped　in　its　blanket　shroud。　'Look；　Sabat；　don　'tyou　see　what's　happened？　My　Louis　lives　even　in　death。　His　powers　have　not　deserted　him！'
　　
　　Sabat　saw。　And　what　he　saw　nearly　had　him　slamming　the　coffin　lid　shut。　The　head　and　body；　separated　by　the　heavy　sharp　blade　of　the　guillotine；　had　joined　themselves　together　again！　Just　a　wide　bloody　scar　ringing　the　neckline　and　even　that　appeared　to　be　healing！
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　TEN
　　　
　　'It　is　not　possible。'　Madeleine's　features　were　trembling　with　a　shaky　frightened　smile。　'And　yet　with　my　beloved　all　things　have　been　possible；　always。　He　is　preparing　to　rise　on　Walpurgisnacht　of　his　own　accord。　It　is　not　the　flesh　which　we　must　eat　but　that　of　another　human　being。　And　Louis　will　join　us　at　the　feast！'
　　
　　Sabat　dropped　the　lid　the　last　few　inches　and　it　thudded　shut；　vibrating　the　candlesticks　which　stood　on　the　ghastly　stove　that　served　as　an　altar。　He；　too；　was　trembling。
　　
　　'But　that　is　not　why　I　returned　so　soon；1　she　snapped。　'Sabat；　there　is　danger　and　we　must　change　our　plans。　Once　again　there　is　a　detective　on　our　trail；　but　not　an　ordinary　one　this　time。　His　name　is　Pieter　Daunay　and　even　now　he　is　heading　this　way。　Centuries　ago　he　would　have　been　feared　as　the　Witchfinder；　for　he　specialises　in　harassing　satanic　cults。　I　have　spoken　with　Andre　and　then　hurried　back　here。　You　must　see　to　it　that　Pieter　Daunay　does　not　leave　these　mountains　aliver
　　
　　Sabat　hoped　his　expression　did　not　give　him　away。　With　an　effort　he　controlled　his　facial　muscles；　even　raised　his　eyebrows　in　amazement。　'Surely　one　man　cannot　instil　such　fear　into　a　following　as　powerful　as　Andre　Schmid's！'
　　
　　'He　is　cunning；　this　man。　Some　say　he　has　supernatural　powers　but　I　have　an　open　mind　on　that。　Anyway；　he　must　be　annihilated　without　delay；　Sabat！'
　　
　　Sabat　nodded；　his　face　still　impassive。　In　his　mind　he　saw　Daunay　again；　a　slim　fellow　in　his　mid…thirties　whose　exceedingly　handsome　looks　were　spoiled　by　an　unfortunate　hump…back。　Devilishly　shrewd；　with　a　nose　for　things　that　other　detectives　overlooked。　Once　he　got　on　a　scent　he　never　gave　up；　hunting　down　his　prey　like　a　bloodthirsty　stoat　on　the　trail　of　a　rabbit。　Sabat　had　met　him；　worked　with　him　once；　and　Daunay　had　claimed　the　credit。　That　was　fine　by　Sabat；　but　now　it　seemed　there　was　a　direct　confrontation　looming。　It　was　not　a　pleasant　prospect。
　　
　　'All　right；'　Sabat　nodded　slowly。　'I'll　get　him　but　I'll　have　to　do　it　my　own　way。　Any　idea　where　he's　hanging　out？'
　　
　　'He's　booked　in　at　the　Hotel　de　la　Paix　on　Museggstrasse　by　the　Alpenstrasse。　He　checked　in　yesterday　afternoon；　and　according　to　the　information　I　received　he　has　gone　walking　in　the　mountains。　Which　means　he　knows　we　are　hereabouts　and　has　already　begun　to　look　for　us。'
　　
　　'I'll　start　right　away。'　Sabat　tapped　the　forting　weight　of　the　？38　in　his　shoulder　holster。　I'll　need　to　take　the　van　though。'
　　
　　'Of　course。'　A　faint　smile　twitched　the　corners　of　Madeleine's　mouth。　'Report　to　Andre　at　the　mune　when　you　have　been　successful；　but　it　is　imperative　that　Daunay　is　removed　by　Walpurgisnacht。　Good　luck。。。　Quentin！'
　　
　　Sabat　flinched　as　though　she　had　delivered　him　a　physical　blow。　Then　he　was　walking　out　towards　the　van；　feeling　her　eyes　boring　into　his　back；　following　the　erratic　course　of　the　VW　until　it　was　lost　to　her　view　amongst　the　tall　pines。　Only　then　did　he　relax　slightly。
　　
　　Sabat　did　not　bother　checking　out　the　Hotel　de　la　Paix。　It　would　not　have　served　any　purpose；　because　had　Daunay　been　there　it　would　only　have　served　to　warn　him；　and　if　he　was　gone；　as　appeared　to　be　the　case；　then　there　was　no　point　It　was　unlikely　that　an　investigator　of　Daunay's　calibre　would　leave　his　itinerary　with　a　receptionist
　　
　　In　all　probability　the　detective　had　already　linked　the　mongol's　disappearance　with　the　cannibal　cult；　he　might　even　have　knowledge　of　the　small　disused　chapel　in　the　mountains。
　　
　　Sabat　parked　the　van　just　off　the　Zurich…Strasse。　Christ；　the　vehicle　still　stank　of　death　like　an　undertakers'　wagon。　He　locked　it　up；　breathed　in　the　sweet　fresh　mountain　air　and　sauntered　across　into　the　Glacier　Garden。　He　had　no　plans　and　at　the　moment　he　wasn't　making　any。　He　just　needed　time　away　from　the　atmosphere　of　Louis　Nevillon。　A　chance　to　relax；　to　gather　his　thoughts。
　　
　　His　hand　strayed　to　his　pocket；　located　the　yellowed…blackened　meerschaum　pipe　and　a　pouch　that　still　had　some　of　his　sweet…scented　mixture　left　in　it。　The　tobacco　had　gone　dry；　crackled　and　burned　hot　when　he　lit　it。　He　drew　some　of　the　smoke　down　into　his　lungs；　let　it　out　slowly　in　twin　streams　through　his　nostrils。　He　did　not　cough；　it　did　not　taste　rancid；　instead　it　gave　him　a　faint　feeling　of　exhilaration。　He　had　got　the　effects　of　the　pneumonia　out　of　his　lungs。　He　was　getting　stronger；　almost　ready　to　fight　back。　Three　days　and　it　would　be　Walpurgisnacht。　Time　was　running　out。
　　
　　In　spite　of　the　urgency；　Sabat　experienced　a　feeling　of　lethargy。　Tiredness　but　not　exhaustion。　The　sun　was　warm　and　he　strolled　over　to　an　ornamental　seat；　lowered　himself　down　on　to　it。　It　would　have　been　so　easy　to　have　slept；　his　eyelids　starting　to　droop。
　　
　　You　must　find　Daunay　and　kill　him！
　　
　　He　jerked；　heard　Quentin's　rasping　whisper。　God；　he　could　just　walk　away　from　here　now　but　he'd　never　be　free　of　his　brother's　soul；　a　devilish　possession　that　would　follow　him　to　the　ends　of　the　earth。　OK；　he'd　kill　Pieter　Daunay；　but　not　right　now。　This　was　not　a　matter　to　be　rushed。
　　
　　Drowsy；　idly　trying　to　formulate　some　kind　of　plan。　It　would　be　futile