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.I opened it for myself with a smile to show him I returned his respect.He scowled.„We don‟ want your sort here,‟ he whispered as I passed him.Puzzled, I took one of the gold coins given to me by Stockwood and gave it to him.His expression became one of disgust.I thought about killing him, then simply walked past.I had more important things to do.The Doctor was in trouble.I knew it.He needed my help.Outside the hotel I paused.Which way to go? Portsmouth was a big village.Not as big as London but big enough.I knew I could hunt until sunset and not cover half of it.And the Doctor could be anywhere.The journey from London had been by carriage.It had taken half a day and at every step I had to listen to the horse complaining about the roads it was forced to travel.Stockwood had constantly urged the driver to greater speed, a stupid and dangerous thing to do considering how much baggage there was strapped to the roof.Now, that baggage was outside the hotel, still beside the carriage, while the driver waited impatiently to be told whether he could feed and water his horses.He stared at me as I left the hotel.„Made their minds up what they‟re doing yet, ‟ave they?‟I shook my head.„The Doctor is missing.No rooms have been booked.‟„Well, if you think I‟m going to take you back to the Smoke you‟ve got another ruddy think coming,‟ The driver sat despondently on the step of the carriage.He reached around to stroke the flank of one of the horses and his voice softened.„Never mind.Nice stable soon.And water.You wait.‟ He turned back to me.„I want my money, you know.You can tell your husband that from me.‟I scowled.„Stockwood is not my husband!‟„That so, is it?‟ The driver looked at me in much the same way as the doorman.„In that case he can definitely afford to pay me.‟ I ignored the driver, walking quickly away from the hotel.I was angry.I was beginning to think I would have to kill every man in this land.No one so far had shown the respect due to a hunter.Were there any hunters here? Or was this land so rich that nobody wanted for anything?I looked around me as I walked.Portsmouth was full of beautiful buildings made of stone and wood.I felt like I was in a holy place.I tried to make as little noise as possible.The people I saw were all obviously priests.Their skins were well made, they wore hats and carried many objects of metal.I wondered what they thought of me.They all stared at me.I exaggerated my hunter‟s stride, displaying my knife prominently on my hip so that they would know who I was but keeping it sheathed so they would know I intended no harm.The hotel was located on a street leading to the harbour.I could see huge wooden vessels, like the canoes I had used to hunt fish but many times bigger, with poles sticking out of the tops that held up sheets of cloth that would have covered half my village.I stared at the distant vessels in awe.They were so big and yet somehow they floated.Were these the sailing ships the Doctor had spoken of? Were we to travel on one of these to the Place of Rapa Nui?I thought I would like to explore one of these vessels.I began to walk towards the harbour, then remembered I was supposed to be looking for the Doctor.I stopped.I had no way of knowing where the Doctor was.Portsmouth was full of noise and movement.There were birds, dogs, children running about.The priests were everywhere.I couldn‟t believe there were so many.Some of them stopped to look at me.I returned their stares arrogantly and most of them turned away.I sniffed the air, but it told me nothing.I crouched to examine the ground but all I could find were dirt and animal spoor and what were obviously temple offerings of fruit and vegetables which had been left in the sun for too long.Then I caught the smell of blood.It seemed to come from the direction of the harbour.I followed the scent, stooping now and then to lift handfuls of dirt and check I was still moving in the right direction.I moved quietly and quickly between the huts - buildings -following the scent, wondering if it would belong to the Doctor or some other.Maybe even an animal.There were those in my tribe who could tell the difference between animal and human blood.They were the most respected hunters.They ate the best of the kills and chose the best mates.I was not one of them.I found the source of the scent in a dingy street walled in by buildings like sheer cliff faces.The place smelled old.Forgotten.The small windows that opened on to the street were closed.One opened just long enough for someone to throw a bucketful of foul-smelling water on to the cobbles almost at my feet before slamming shut again.I blinked.It wasn‟t that the smell was bad, it just masked the blood spoor.Then I saw a place where the ground was stained reddish brown and I didn‟t need the scent any more.I drew my knife, moving forward and crouching to examine the ground.There was nothing except the blood.And a few scuff marks in the dirt.One clear print seemed to be about the size of the Doctor‟s shoe.I lifted some dirt and sniffed it.Dirt.Blood.It told me nothing more than I already knew.What had happened here? The ground was so hard it had not taken an impression of footprints.I could not even tell how many people had been involved in the struggle.I stood up.There was more blood on a nearby wall.I examined it.It too was less than a day old.It smelled like that on the ground.Then I noticed something.On the ground nearby was a sweet.I picked it up.A mint humbug, still in its wrapper.The Doctor had been here.Running footsteps sounded behind me.I turned, knife at the ready.A child(Mother Father its hurting me it‟s)skidded to a halt a short distance from me and was staring at me.No.She was staring at the sweet I held.I offered it to her.„I won‟t hurt you.‟The child said nothing.„Unless you are a servant of the Evil One,‟ I added, just to make sure the gods knew I was alert.Suddenly the child ran forward and snatched at the sweet.She was very fast.I was faster.She grabbed the sweet but I grabbed her wrist, spun her round and threw her on to the ground.„Show respect!‟ I hissed through clenched teeth.I could have gutted her.The child looked up at me, silent, obviously frightened.I frowned.She was no servant of Cryuni.I sheathed my knife but held on to her wrist.A grown man would have opened his fingers and cried with pain at that grip.Her hand remained a fist, fingers clamped tightly about the sweet.Was it so important to her?I prised open her fingers.„You have seen one like this before?‟She said nothing, though her face showed the pain I knew she felt.„Tell me and I will let you go.‟She said nothing.I considered what to do [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]