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CHAPTER 14: FIRE AND FIRELIGHT
Sydney peered into the steaming cooking pot, and screwed up her nose. Her attempt at making a nourishing ‘soup’ from some sort of meat, olives, berries and a crumbly bit of cheese, was hardly the most appetising meal she’d prepared - and she’d produced some pretty unsatisfactory ones in her time. Still, it was getting late and Derek wasn’t back yet with anything else. She wanted Nigel to eat something when he woke up, although she wasn’t sure this was quite the way forward. Leaving the outdoor fire, she peered into the hut and was surprised to see that Nigel was awake, or at least his eyes were open. He was staring intently at the ceiling, obviously lost in thoughts, and not particularly happy ones at that. He didn’t seem to notice when she appeared at the door. ‘Nigel, are you alright?’ ‘No doubt I am,’ replied Nigel dryly without even looking at her, and then remembered his manners. ‘Honestly, Syd, I'm fine. Never better.’ He smiled wanly at her. Sydney, disturbed by something she couldn't yet put a finger upon, knelt down and laid the back of her hand on his forehead. He cringed. ‘I told you, I’m fine. I'm not a child. I can tell you now that I haven't got a fever.’ Nigel’s serious tone, and a temporary fear of scolding him, suppressed Sydney’s desire to tell him to ‘be quiet and let her look after him.’ Instead she said, ‘Okay, Nigel. Would you like something to eat? I've made some soup.’ Nigel thinned his eyes suspiciously, just a glint of good humour of returning. ‘You've made some soup? I'm torn between my curiosity and a suspicion that it might just finish me off altogether!’ Sydney laughed gratefully: ‘Is that a ‘yes’?’ ‘It's a maybe. I am pretty hungry now…where's Derek?’ ‘I don't know. He should be back by now. I'm starting to get a bit worried.’ Syd tripped out to fetch two bowls of soup. There was something about the concept of Sydney worrying about Derek which toppled Nigel’s fragile emotions over the edge into a bitter tirade. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about him. I'm sure Derek could keep up playing Robin Hood all night. Mugging Romans must be bread-and-butter to him. Giving half of it away to the poor may be a new one, but Derek’s full of surprises, isn’t he?’ Sydney, now outside and ladling the soup into two bowls, stopped dead. She didn't like what Nigel was driving at. ‘Maybe he found some comely peasant girls who wanted to express their gratitude? I’m sure Derek’s a regular machine in every department. How does he measure up, eh, Syd?’ Sydney smothered the overwhelming desire to dump the pot of foul-smelling soup right over Nigel’s head. Instead she stomped back to the door bowl-less, only to be greeted by a resentful glare of such heartfelt sincerity that she swallowed back even her forthcoming verbal battering. Her reply was almost kind: ‘Is this about earlier, Nigel?’ Nigel pouted. ‘Not specifically.’ ‘Well, Derek hardly deserves this abuse, does he?’ ‘No.’ Nigel laid back and let out a long, uneven breath, as if his bubble of anger had suddenly burst, leaving him utterly deflated. ‘Hadn’t you better go look for him?’ he muttered. ‘Not yet,’ said Syd, decisively. ‘If he's not back at first light, I’ll think again. You and I might both have to leave if there is a chance this place will be discovered. Besides, Derek knew the risks when he set out. I won’t leave you here alone. I don't want to.’ Nigel scanned her up and down. He'd been expecting more of a tongue-lashing over his little outburst, and was almost disappointed. He’d wanted the chance to tell her some ‘home truths’, although now he didn't quite feel quite strong enough for that either. Besides, Sydney was currently the one who looked unfamiliarly anxious, crouched by his side as if undecided about what to say or do next. The firelight, seeping into the cabin, flickered on her face and hair, highlighting the undulating curves of her lips and cheekbones. She was so agonisingly beautiful he could chide her no more. Nigel shut his eyes again. As he did so, Sydney’s thoughts echoed his own, but were darkened by recent, painful memories. In the glimmering illumination, his still-fragile form had an ethereal quality that alarmed her, even as a look of relaxation seeped back across the features she adored. ‘Nigel?’ Nigel opened his eyes suddenly, surprised by her urgent tone and the hand that clamped down purposefully on his wrist. ‘What is it?’ ‘Nothing, Nigel. Shhh.’ She felt her fingers caress the sensitive skin on his forearm and slip away. Syd’s odd behaviour was all rather disturbing to him. Had she sensed some bad guys with a longbow aimed at her head? Was she trying to lull them into a false sense of security before she flipped about into a knockout high-kick? Nigel looked at her quizzically, and rather nervously, wondering if she would enlighten him with a whisper or a sign. Then he noticed the unfettered tears that were streaming down her face. ‘Syd! What is it? Please…don’t cry. Please…don’t…’ He lifted his arms to meet her desperate embrace. Syd’s voice was stifled by sobs. ‘Don’t ever leave me, Nigel, promise me…’ ‘I won’t, Syd,’ replied Nigel, unsure but hopeful, smoothing down her long hair. ‘I’ll be your assistant as long as you want me to be.’ Sydney pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes, her arms still looped around him, bringing the tears under control. ‘Nigel Bailey, for such an intelligent guy, you can be darned unperceptive. God, the last few days have been the worst of my life…watching you lying there, not knowing really what was wrong, wondering if each shallow breath could be your last…I watched my mother die…the wound never heals. To loose you would have ripped my heart out …’ She gave an ironic laugh. ‘And you thought I spent the time fooling around with Derek? After you woke, it was the first time either of us smiled since we got here!’ The tears had returned for both of them. ‘I’m so sorry Syd,’ said Nigel quietly. ‘It’s just… watching the two of you laughing in the sunshine…it was difficult. And when you’d said you’d loved me…in the arena…I’d hoped…and then I felt so useless and inadequate…I didn’t see how you could!’ He buried his face in her shoulder, overcome by his emotions. ‘I meant it Nigel,’ said Sydney, firmer now. ‘I’ve known just how much I really loved you from the moment they first separated us, not knowing if you were alive or dead…I thought you realised! But I should have guessed how vulnerable you’d feel…after everything. Shhh. It’s okay.’ She hugged him tight for a second, until she felt his sobs ease, then continued: ‘God, Nigel, surely you’re well aware that flirting can be just another weapon to me? I flirted with Agroitus…I’d have flirted with Demetrius if it was the only way to have stopped him hurting you; I’m eternally grateful that violence alone did the trick!’ ‘I wish you’d slapped some sense into me earlier,’ said Nigel humbly, still pressed against her shoulder. ‘Now you're being unfair on yourself… I was the one who didn't do what I should have. But we have another chance…’ Sydney nuzzled her face into the back of his neck. Her lips parted slightly and bestowed a tender kiss. ‘I’m deadly serious now,’ she purred. Nigel gave a little moan of surprised pleasure as her torrent of affection wound its way around to his lips, each kiss more sensuous than the last. He received her with a ravenous passion, entangling his fingers in her luminous hair, clasping her as tightly as he could. ‘My God, Syd,’ panted Nigel, coming up for air after as long a kiss as he could take. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but there certainly seems to be energy for something. I want to make mad, passionate love to you, all night!’ ‘Down boy!’ giggled Sydney. ‘Whatever happened to that famous English reserve?’ ‘I can’t conform to every cultural stereotype, can I?’ growled Nigel. Sydney waggled a finger. ‘I’m serious. Take it easy, Nigel. You could rupture something! Besides, it might not just be me making you happier. Crying produces feel-good hormones, you know.’ Nigel, who had entirely forgotten to be embarrassed, wiped away the remainder of his tears. ‘Well, I seem to have turned on the waterworks more over the past few days than over the whole of the previous quarter of a century. If it makes me feel this good, I think I might take it up on a regular basis!’ Syd laughed. ‘I better go get that soup!’ Nigel grinned as he lay back against the pillow. His demeanour had been completely transformed, from desolate to positively jaunty, in the course of a single, but very rewarding, kiss. ‘You know, Syd,’ chirped Nigel, ‘just about the only nice thing that has happened since we got here – until now of course - is that I've been able to tell several people that you're my wife. I liked that… and now you practically are my wife! I've got you to wait on me hand and foot, indulge my every whim…’ His smile widened as he sensed her cottoning on to the joke. It was time to push his luck. ‘Aaah! It's nice to be back in the good old days of patriarchal society, before all that women's lib rubbish. At least the wenches know their place!’ Sydney appeared in the doorway with her hands on her hips. ‘I'm going to have to hit you Nigel, any second now!’ …………. They didn’t feast on Sydney's soup. She took one tentative mouthful and decided that it wouldn't do her any good, let alone Nigel. Fortunately, there was some chewy, dry bread hanging around from earlier, and a little of the crumbly cheese and olives. They dined in the dancing firelight, and spiced the meal up with wine. The latter sent Nigel to sleep rather sooner than he would have wished. Sydney snuggled up for the night under the blankets next to him, but the ‘warm fuzzy feeling’ that the evening had produced was becoming increasingly diluted by her apprehension about Derek. She knew he'd become a man with a mission in helping the local villagers – she’d positively encouraged him - but he'd promised to be back soon with their dinner. She had started to trust Derek's word. Moreover, she was niggled by what he had said to her about Nigel. Should she really have followed her heart as she had? Was it the best thing for either of them? With the break of dawn, and only a little light sleep, she decided she'd better search for the missing special agent. She was loath to disturb Nigel, but didn't want him waking up alone, and she still wasn't even sure she could bring herself to leave him. ‘Nigel, sweetheart…’ She gave his shoulder a loving squeeze. Nigel groaned sleepily, but after a moment he opened one eye. ‘Morning, sweetcheeks!’ Sydney scowled playfully. ‘No sweetcheeks, remember? I'm still boss around here when it comes to choosing pet names!’ Nigel yawned. ‘You know, Syd, I could still do with about a weeks more sleep.’ A thought then struck him. ‘When did Derek get back?’ Sydney was now knelt at his feet, running a comb through her hair. ‘That's why I woke you. He didn't get back.’ Concern for his friend flashed across Nigel's face. ‘I'm going to go up as far as the nearest village,’ continued Syd, ‘and see if I can find anything out. I won’t be more than an hour. You think you'll be okay?’ ‘I’ll be fine, Syd.’ Nigel sat up slowly. ‘Maybe I shouldn't go back to sleep, though, just in case.’ Syd nodded affirmatively, and lifted his ankle into her lap, pulling the bandages tight. ‘Do you think you can walk by yourself yet?’ Nigel shrugged. ‘If it’s not actually broken, and I’ve rested for three days, then I don't see why not?’ Sydney helped Nigel to his feet, steadied him while he gained his bearings, and then stepped cautiously away, primed to catch him. Nigel flinched slightly, and one hand flattened against the cabin wall, but he held fast. ‘Okay?’ ‘Fine.’ He lifted the supporting hand away and took a furtive step. ‘There’ll be no records in the hundred metres, but I'm just about mobile.’ Sydney took a deep breath. ‘Good. I’ll be as quick as I can. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if anybody comes, hide in the bushes.’ She handed him a tall stick, which Nigel scowled at, muttering something about crutches being more trouble than they're worth. ‘Take it, Nigel. Indulge me.’ Nigel received it, hobbled outside, and settled himself down on the dewy grass beside the door. Sydney wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, urged him to be vigilant, and handed him the shard of Hapshepsut’s Eye. ‘Keep it with you, just in case. We don’t want to loose it.’ Nigel tucked it in his belt. Sydney then planted a goodbye kiss on his lips, which was keenly returned. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ she promised, regretting using the same words as Derek last had, even as she said them. ……………………………………………. Nigel tried everything he could, but he was unable to keep his eyes open. He attempted reciting Latin verbs, and visualising hieroglyphs, but that didn't help. Then he tried to list, in order, all of the relics he’d found with Sydney. Unfortunately, he'd barely got past the lost crown of the last King of Ireland before his head lolled forward towards his chest and he nodded off. He was woken not long after by a brusque kick to his shin. ‘Ow! Bloody hell, Bluthus! ’ Nigel clutched his leg. ‘What did you do that for?’ ‘I'm terribly sorry,’ said the Oxford Don, who now stood over him. ‘It's just that last I saw you, you were, hmmmm … and I thought you might be…hmmm…’ ‘Dead?’ offered Nigel helpfully. ‘Corpses don't normally sit upright.’ ‘Hmmmmm… well, you're not at your most dapper, are you? The phrase ‘death warmed up’ springs to mind.’ ‘Thank you, how charming. ’ Nigel squinted up at him, shielding his eyes against the rising sun. ‘The words ‘lying, fat warthog’ spring to my mind! Why did you tell Sydney I dropped the relic?’ ‘You did!’ retaliated Bluthus. ‘It was very clumsy!’ Nigel realised that the professor was just being supercilious and it wasn't worth arguing. ‘What do you want?’ he demanded. ‘Sydney isn’t here, so if you want to congratulate her on her amazing academic record, you're out of luck.’ ‘Hhhmmm.’ Bluthus sat himself down next to Nigel, who watched him sceptically. The old man looked strangely harrowed, but Nigel supposed it had been a trying few days, even for this faint-hearted fool. ‘I wasn’t the one who gave up on you, you know?’ retorted Bluthus. ‘The other two started digging your grave several times, but I implored them that there was hope.’ ‘I'm eternally grateful.’ Nigel's reply dripped with sarcasm. ‘Now are you going to tell me why you're here, or am I going to have to kick you all the way back to Nevium and feed you to those poor tigers?’ Nigel delivered the words with some force, but they were greeted with a patronising snivel. ‘Don't make me laugh, Nigel! But it's a shame you're in this mess. I hear that several Roman legions are coming through here tomorrow, bound for Britannia. Wouldn't it be wonderful, to march across ancient Europe, learning the languages, proving what we’ve hypothesised about, and ending up back in old Blighty?’ Nigel curled his lip incredulously. ‘If I was young like you - and not a physical wreck, of course - I'd jump at the chance.’ ‘No you wouldn't, Bluthus! You've never been a man for fieldwork - you're too much of a coward! And if you're not going to tell me why you're here, I might just have to hit you with my crutch!’ It was a feebler sounding threat, but a more realistic one. 'Alright! Alright!’ said Bluthus, genuinely worried that Nigel might follow through on his last warning. ‘I just came because of my deep regard for you all, and to make sure you’re being careful. Where is Professor Fox, anyway?’ The last words were articulated just a little too keenly. Nigel was suspicious, but found that an honest answer would suffice. 'I don’t know exactly where she is. I don't really have much of a clue where I am. I wasn't exactly taking notes on the way, was I?’ ‘Hhhhmmmm,’ grumbled Bluthus. ‘She will be back here later though, won’t she?’ Nigel glanced warily at him. ‘I expect so.’ ‘And where's that shard of the relic she had?’ Nigel pulled the blanket tight around him, concealing what was tucked in his belt. ‘I have no idea. She must have taken it with her. Look, Bluthus, if you're thinking of betraying us, Sydney will show no mercy! She's a cruel, harsh woman, as you said - when it comes to people who deserve it!’ ‘No! No! I’m just concerned for you, my lad. Have you considered she might have left you here to…well, to die? I hate to say it, but while you were apparently breathing your last, she and that American agent were snogging like they were a couple of sloshed undergrads during freshers’ week. She’s a bad sort, Nigel. You might as well come away with me, as you’ll probably never see her again…’ Bluthus never saw the blow coming. The left hook to his jaw sent him sprawling backwards, seated as he was. ‘Oooof!’ He shook his fist back at Nigel. ‘That’s that violent woman influencing you again!’ ‘No. That was one hundred percent pure Nigel Bailey. Nobody repeatedly insults the woman I love and gets away with it.’ He shook his painful fingers with a flourish and added: ‘It’s called chivalry, Bluthus. If you were a better historian, you would have read about it…’ With that, Nigel pulled himself up, picked up his crutch and, with something that approached a swagger, departed from the clearing. …………………………. Not far away, Sydney Fox was running for her life through a burning village with half of the Nevium garrison on her tail. Her thoughts were in nearly as much chaos as the smouldering landscape. There was no sign of Derek, although she’d learnt on the road that he’d delivered goodies to the settlement yesterday, and then headed off. All she could see there now, however, was the ruin of hundreds of innocent people’s homes and livelihoods. Was it her fault? She dodged into a blazing storage barn, pulling burning straw and wreckage down behind her, and then dived out of a small back window. She landed with a roll and grabbed a fallen plank, its end alight. Hurling it like a javelin, the missile hit the leader of a line of approaching soldiers, toppling them like a row of dominoes. ‘Can't take that heat, boys? Better lie down!’ Sydney fled. For now, she hardly cared about the devastation behind her. Her only thought was to get back to Nigel in the woods, and to pray that their secret hideaway had not been revealed.
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