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'The bloody swines!'
'That's putting it mildly. This sword, Kent, it's unbelievable. It could just
be King Arthur's, the one he lost, according to mythology, hidden away by the
Oke Priests for centuries. Who knows? Certainly it is very powerful, rendering
its user almost invincible. For the time being we'll have to hang on to it.
Now, the problem is we've got a body on our hands. ..."
They both tried not to look at the pathetic crumpled form of Sheenah again.
Only twenty-four hours earlier the woman claiming to be her mother had died in
this very place. Then they had no problem because it was merely an astral
body. This one was mortal and the last thing they wanted was the police
questioning them.
'I'm afraid we've no choice,' Sabat stooped down beside Sheenah, remembered
everything that had been between them.
Kent moved alongside him, an unspoken request being carried out the way it
used to be back in their SAS days together. Together they lifted the body,
carried it, a silent funeral procession winding its way amidst the
gravestones.
The Oke Priests, the forces of evil, had struck a bitter blow against Sabat
and Kent. Now, for the two men, it was more than just a fight against the dark
powers, a battle against corruption.
They seethed with a desire for vengeance on those who had brought about the
death of the one whom Alda called Shyaena, she who had sacrificed her own life
to save Sabat from certain death . . . and worse!
CHAPTER TEN
MARION HURST glanced sideways at her husband, an expression of both contempt
and hate in her eyes for the man behind the wheel of the Jaguar. Well built
with long fair hair, she had once likened him to a Greek god. Now at 42 that
physique was running to fat; affluence was to blame, she told herself. Too
little exercise, too much to drink - and that bitch, Lola, of course.
Attractive, just having passed her fortieth birthday, Marion resented a
younger woman having designs on her husband. Oh sure, all executives had their
fancy women and Darren had had them before. But now things were building up to
a climax and when the whole thing exploded she was going to make sure that the
little hussy got the full force of the blast. This is the place,' Darren Hurst
swung the wheel over, eased the car down a cinder track that was just wide
enough to take it. A
hundred yards or so further on the line of fir trees ended and gave way to an
expanse of field, rough tussocks of grass that had not been grazed recently, a
general look of abandonment about it. On their left, partly shielded by a line
of yew trees and a massive oak, they saw an overgrown cemetery and a church,
the roof of which was sagging dangerously, a number of slates missing.
'Beautiful' Marion Hurst muttered. 'What a crime that it is going to be turned
into a housing estate.'
'Don't put it that way,' her husband's voice was soft, cultured to the point
of suaveness, 'Executive-style residences, my dear. Houses which will enhance
the locality, hide all this dereliction.'
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'Crap!' her eyes blazed. 'It's all one big fiddle, Darren, and you know it. If
the truth comes out then you and Stone, and that toad of a bishop will all go
down for years. It'd make the headlines of every newspaper in the country.'
'And you would be joining us in prison,' Darren Hurst's eyes narrowed. 'Don't
forget, you're part of it, Marion. You were responsible for swaying Stone. I
couldn't have done it alone. My five grand wouldn't've meant a thing to a guy
on twenty a year. He wouldn't take the risk. But when I just happened to come
home and caught the pair of you upstairs, his trousers and your knickers
hanging on the bedside chair. . . . '
'Shut up' her fists clenched and for a moment he thought she was going to
strike him. 'My God, what a fool I was to go along with your ideas. I must've
been blind and mad!'
'But he shagged you and came out five thousand quid the better for it,' he
laughed. 'Most guys would've ended up with nothing except a broken nose and a
black eye. But that's all over and done with.'
'Is it? It's blackmail!'
'Don't be so hasty, my dear. Nobody was ever threatened. I just happened to
mention an idea and a sum of money to Stone and he willingly went along with
it. Nobody made any threats about what might happen if he refused. Now, did
they?1
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