At The Sign Of The Happy Helg

Chapter 18

Rodney was dozing in the parlour, Boudicca a heavy weight over his lap.  He had heard the thundering pass of the helg race and the cheers of encouragement, and then the music had started up again.  Someone fumbled with the latch and John came blundering in and sat down opposite Rodney.  He closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the settle.

"I'm beat," he said, running one hand through his hair.  He looked around.  There were just a couple of groups in the room, murmuring quietly, some with sleeping children in their laps.  "Enjoying the party atmosphere?" John asked.

"Yes, thank you!" Rodney replied, smugly.  "I've had a very civilized evening!" He shuffled awkwardly on the bench.  "Except now I need to pay a visit to the sub-zero facilities and I'm not looking forward to having icicles forming in strategic places."

"Better get it over with, Rodney!  Or use the flowery pot!"

Rodney sneered in reply and, pushing Boudicca off his lap, pulled on his coat and stepped out into the kitchen garden.  The vegetables remaining after Franca's raid stood out frost-rimed and pale in the moonlight. Rodney could see the tops of the trees outlined against the starry sky, but the light didn't penetrate beneath the eaves of the forest and he shuddered at the thought of what might be lurking.  He hurried down the path.  Somebody had left the candle burning in the outhouse but Rodney could only just about see what he was doing.  This, for Rodney, was the major downside of staying at the Happy Helg; he wondered if, somehow, flushing toilets could be installed.  At least it wasn't smelly at the moment, it being so cold, although tendrils of vapour rose from the hole in the wooden board, which was somewhat off-putting.

Rodney finished, opened the door and immediately felt the press of cold metal just behind his left temple.

"Don't turn round." The sinister voice was unfamiliar.  Rodney stood motionless as someone fumbled for his sidearm.  They threw it away and he heard it land in the vegetable patch.

"In a moment, you are going to turn to your right," the voice continued, calm and cold.  "Then you are going to make your way to the forest.  If you refuse, I will shoot.  If you call out, I will shoot.  Do you understand?"

"Yes," Rodney said.  His mind spun; this must surely be the escaped Councillor Smeadon.  And he had said he would shoot; yet would he?  If he wanted a hostage, shooting Rodney would gain him nothing, and bring the rest of Rodney's team and all the locals running.  He was also standing too close; Rodney had seen Sheppard disarming enemies under such circumstances.

"Move!"

Rodney found himself doing as he was told; turning to the right and making his way out of the kitchen garden and up the slope toward the forest.  The pressure of the gun had disappeared and he hesitated.

"I'm close enough to finish you, Dr McKay.  Keep going."

Rodney carried on, the moonlight just enough to allow him to keep his footing on the rough ground.  He thought it would be pitch dark under the trees and maybe he'd even be able to use the darkness to escape.  But, shafts of moonlight lit the forest floor and his captor urged him on, away from the safety of the Happy Helg and his friends and out into the bitter-dark winter night.

oOo

John had been going to go to bed.  He was tired and sore and, as the helg race made another rumbling lap, he decided he'd pass up the chance to catch the final stage in favour of his bed and, hopefully, some sleep.  But then Boudicca spread herself over his lap and her fur was so warm and soft that he sat and enjoyed running his fingers through it for a couple of minutes.