The young man grabbed it, looked frantically around the clearing, and scurried away up the slope to the track.

As the robed men started to follow him Kin could see what they had been doing. They had run a sword into the dumbwaiter's output slot.

'They're breaking up the 'waiter!' she hissed.

'OK, Kin. When I say duck, duck. DUCK!'

Something whirred past her head and struck one of the men between the eyes. He gave a sigh and toppled backwards.

'Cape illud, fracturor,' said a satisfied voice in her ear. Brickface gripped her wrist firmly and stalked towards the slope, the archers following him as closely. They glanced fearfully at the forest.

'What was that?' said Kin as she was jerked up the slope. Pine needles clung and pricked her feet.

'Silver threw a stone,' said Marco, the awe in his voice recognizable even in earpiece reproduction. Kin looked back and saw the 'waiter, her suit and the fallen man lying forlornly near the water's edge.

'There is little we can do at present,' said the kung conversationally. "The weaponry is laughable, but the situation is not sufficiently desperate to warrant a direct confrontation.'

'Uh?'

'I would not wish you to think that I am motivated by anything other than intelligent caution.'

'No, Marco.'

'Now Silver would like a word.' There was a rustle.

'You are thought to be some kind of water spirit,' said Silver. 'Apparently they're not uncommon. You should have screamed when they showed you that figure of the Christos. My immediate advice is to cover yourself as soon as possible. There appears to be some rigid prohibition concerning nudity.'

There were more armed men waiting on the track, with some robed men among them. Brickface swung himself into the saddle of a waiting horse and lifted Kin up behind him, dumping her on the beast's rump without a word and then ignoring her. At his brief command the entire troop moved off.

'This is Silver again. Do not despair.'

'I am not despairing,' said Kin. 'I am just getting good and mad.'

'We have returned to the clearing. Marco is reviving the stunned priest.' There was a thin scream which stopped abruptly. 'Kin?'

'I'm still here,' she said. One of the robed men had ridden up alongside Brickface. He wore a fur-edged cloak over his robe and appeared to be important. He was also furious.

This is a perfect opportunity,' said Silver. 'Hopefully we shall shortly learn more about these people. If you find yourself in difficulties, you can of course initiate sexual relations with your captor. The men call him Lothar.'

The cloaked man was shouting and pointing back along the trail, with occasional poisonous looks at Kin. Lothar's replies were distant and monosyllabic, until he reached over and in one movement grabbed the priest by the front of his robe and almost lifted him off his horse. He snarled a sentence and spat a full stop. The other man went white, out of either fury or fear.

'This is exceptionally interesting,' said Silver. Kin thought she could also hear a babble of high-pitched Latin in the background.

'Is the 'waiter badly damaged?' said Kin.

'Not badly. It can be repaired. Another centimetre and the sword would have hit the 5,000 kV line -- Marco! It is essential he does not faint again!'

The party left the forest and headed hubwards by Kin's estimation, on a track that ran alternately between stretches of half-cultivated ground and marshes.

The smoke pillar loomed, dominating the sky. Its tip was now made ragged by high-altitude winds.

Soon they met a straggle of people coming the other way. They ran off the track when they saw Lothar's band, but he wheeled after them and one man was caught. He was brought before Lothar, struggling and gasping out answers to the questions that were grunted at him.

'Silver,' said Kin, 'how do you say "I'm nearly freezing to death"?'

Silver translated. Kin tapped Lothar on the shoulder and repeated the phrase, as best she could.

He turned in the saddle and stared at her in astonishment, before unfastening the heavy brooch that held his cloak. Kin wrapped the heavy and odorous cloth around her. There was a comment, almost inaudible, from the senior priest.

'He said "Soon you will both be warmed by the fires of Hell"' murmured Silver helpfully.

'Great. I've only been here a few hours and already I've made friends.'

'Listen carefully. Your party contains priests of the Christ-Creator religion. They are heading towards the smoke column in the belief that it is a sign that the Christ has returned. Lothar, however, is a minor noble with a line in brigandage and part-time looting. According to our informant, he is a son of Saitan.'

'Saitan has a lot of relatives in these parts,' said Kin.

'It is a strange religion. Everyone is evil until proved holy. Our informant says the priests met up with Lothar on the road and they banded together for mutual protection, but this liaison is likely to end at any moment.'

'Are you telling me that Lothar's God is returning and he's thinking of nothing but pillage?'

'Probably rape and murder as well,' said Silver. 'You are heading for a holy house for the night. We will endeavour to rescue you then. Now I must sign off for the moment, I've got an injured man to attend to. I'll say this for these Christers, they're brave. This one hit out at Marco. Picture the result.'

'Dead?'

'I persuaded Marco that the man was more useful alive. He just broke both his arms.'

In the early evening they came to a town of thatched houses surrounding what Silver identified as a religious foundation. The muddy streets were thick with people and carts. The party got through only after Lothar sent men ahead to clear a path with the flats, and sometimes the points, of their swords.

There were noisy crowds around the holy buildings dressed in the main in drab and holy colours. The senior priest was greeted effusively, even frantically, and helped to dismount. Lothar watched impassively. Looking round, Kin saw that his men had fanned out among the crowd with drawn bows, sometimes glancing at the sky.

The senior priest, identified by Silver as Otto, spoke sharply to a holy man. He ran off and returned a few minutes later at a respectful distance in front of one who, to judge by the way the crowd parted for him, was even holier.

He was tubby and red-eyed, as if he hadn't slept for some time. Over the standard robe he wore a red cloak with patterns in gold thread, now crusted with dirt. He listened gravely as Otto spoke. Then he walked over to Lothar's horse and peered at Kin. Finally he reached out and pinched her sharply on the thigh.

In the circumstances, she decided against any action.

Lothar dismounted and fell on one knee in front of the priest, one hand on his heart. He spoke eloquently. To Kin he sounded like a salesman.

She tried to raise Silver.

'I can be of little help,' the shand reported. 'Latin is a ceremonial language, like a religious allspeak. This is one of the early German tongues, I think. The fat man is possibly the local bishop, and this is a trial. What appears to be at stake is whether Lothar keeps you or hands you over.'

'What about the heroic rescue? It's wearying, you know, constantly being tensed up waiting for one's friends to plummet out of the sky with lasers blazing--'

'I had intended using your stunner, but it was not in your suit,' said Silver. 'No doubt you lost it on the floating island. Plan B also will not work. Marco intended to swoop down wearing two belts to carry you off, but Lothar's men maintain a constant skywatch. For dragons, do you think?'

'What's plan C, then?'

There was a sigh. 'Marco intends to land and hack and slash at everyone.'

'That's a good plan,' said Kin.

'He is mad. The Norsemen have a term, berserker. It was designed for Marco.'