A pond, alight with numerous floating candles, brought the trail to an end. On the far bank Tory was seated amid a picnic dinner, wearing the dress she always wore in his dreams.

'It is a superb rendition of this piece,' he commented across the water to her.

'Why, thank you.' Tory stood and approached the water's edge. 'Ningal recorded it from my memory, upon which it is eternally etched.'

The Albinoni concerto ended abruptly and a soothing concerto played adagio replaced it.

'You see, my lover, I figured that your problem is not what you need to forget ... but what you need to remember.'

'Aye, I do remember.' Maelgwn's eyes began to water, but he pulled his emotions into line before they got the better of him. 'So, tell me. Am I to swim across to you?'

'Chivalrous,' Tory judged, 'but unnecessary. You might prefer to take the maze.' She motioned to the large, thick patch of trimmed hedges that lined the pond at the far end.

'Not likely,' he announced, proceeding to strip down to his trousers. 'I could be lost in there for hours.'

'That's the spirit.' Tory cheered him on, unable to believe he'd chosen the quicker, though more inconvenient route; that had to say something about the way he felt.

Maelgwn pulled off his second boot, and dived out over the water. He never broke the surface, however, just vanished in mid-dive.

'Hey, that's cheating.' Tory turned to encounter him.

'I have dreamt of you in this dress, or rather in part thereof, more times than I care to recall.' Maelgwn slid his hands around her waist to pull her close.

Tory was a little thrown by this sudden eagerness.

This kind of amorous behaviour was indicative of the Maelgwn she remembered, but with the way he'd been acting since they'd been reunited she had good reason to wonder if she wasn't being deceived by an impostor.

'I told you I would not hesitate.' He gently moved Tory backwards, against the soft, mossy surface of a nearby tree, and with a long, lingering kiss he put her doubts concerning their love to rest.

27.

RAISING THE DEAD.

The mountain Doc sought was Burqan Qaldun, although no one had called it by that name for centuries. This was the source of the three great rivers of the Kublia Khan: Orhon Gol, Tuul Gol and Herlen Gol. High in the mist-swathed hills of this place, an ancient tree marked the burial chamber of an old cohort of Cadwaladr's, named Temujin. No one but Doc knew that they had camped for the night just a few kilometres short of this burial ground. As far as the locals knew this was a surveying trip. They were completely unaware that come first light, their services would no longer be required.

Whatever the herdsmen were feeding Rhiannon, it was keeping her alive and kicking. This was fortunate from Doc's point of view. He had feared that his wife was so weak that she might die and assume her immortality before they arrived at their destination, which would make the task of her disposal far more difficult.

The old herdsman she'd hired to transport her was particularly attentive to her needs. Besides cooking for her and feeding her, he also made sure she was kept warm. He pitched and dismantled her tent as required.

The old man brewed a tea-like substance especially for Rhiannon, which kept the nausea caused by her medication under control, and made for a much more pleasant trip for all concerned.

'Good value, these herdsmen,' Doc commented to Stanley, as they saddled up for the day.

'Yeah. It's a shame they wouldn't take the modules when we offered them,' Stanley added. 'Now we have to leave them behind, and the little buggers are damn useful when it comes to setting up camp.'

Once they were loaded up and ready to go, Doc had Stanley rally together their guides. The old herdsman lifted Rhiannon onto her mount before walking over to join the assembly. She watched as Doc addressed the locals, as he'd done every day before setting out.

But today, Stanley Brennon stood behind the herdsmen and blasted them all to unconsciousness in seconds with his treasured Stormer. 'No!' Rhiannon half climbed, half fell off the horse. 'What are you doing?'

She stumbled over to fall at the side of the old herdsman. This man had made her feel better than she had in months, and the thought of pressing on without his aid was far too terrible.

'You'll just have to manage on your own.' Doc pulled her to her feet. 'We haven't got far to go.'

'But you said there was a storm coming. You can't just leave them here at the mercy of the elements!'

Rhiannon pleaded, knowing he had every intention of doing just that. 'Leave me here with a tent and I'll take care of them.'

Doc and Stanley just laughed at this. 'You can't even take care of yourself,' Doc reasoned, mocking her.

'I'll manage.' Rhiannon glared at him, though her growing anger made her head throb.

Again the men laughed.

'She's really got a thing for the old bloke,' Stanley jeered.

'Well, I tell you what.' Doc put an arm around his wife's shoulder to suggest: 'We'll stick the old man in front of you in the saddle, and as long as you can hold him up, you can keep him. Fair enough?'

The hatred that burned in the pit of her stomach gave her the determination to accept his terms, despite the fact that she had needed the herdsman's help to keep herself in the saddle the day before. 'What about the others?' she queried.

'That's a bit adventurous.' Doc made light of her concern. 'I hardly think you'll be able to support all of them. Think of your poor horse?' He walked off, motioning for Stanley to load the old man up for her.

'Prick,' Rhiannon muttered under her breath. She collected the herdsman's bag containing his herbs and utensils before following Stanley back to the horse.

It may be that they rode only a few hours that morning, but to Rhiannon it felt like days. The herdsman was a dead weight in her arms and her weakened back was aching from having to support him.

Come on, Ray. She closed her eyes, in need of rest.

Speak to me now. Tell me how everything is going to be fine.

He had spoken to her often during this journey, yet now, when she really needed to hear it, he did not speak.

By the time they finally stopped, Rhiannon just sat in the saddle. She was too exhausted to even dismount, and was trying to figure out how to unload the herdsman without killing him, when two of Doc's muscle men dragged both her burden and herself off the horse.

The rest of Doc's cronies had set to work digging at the side of a hilly mound. Rhiannon sat marvelling at the speed of their progress, when she spied her husband approaching.

'Your friend is still with us, I see.' Doc made reference to the herdsman, whose head was resting in Rhiannon's lap.

Rhiannon was tempted to say, 'no thanks to you', but refrained for fear Doc would take the old man's life out of spite. 'Are you going to tell me what we are digging for?'

'An old, old friend of mine,' Doc informed her, with a grin. 'Temujin was his name ... though his people called him Khan the Mighty.'

'What!' Rhiannon was nearly sick. She didn't know what she'd been expecting him to say, but this certainly wasn't it. 'Are you telling me you knew Genghis Khan?'

'Pardon me, but I was the reason he believed in immortality,' Doc advised. 'Together we searched for the secret place of the three sacred fountains.

Unfortunately, Temujin died before we found the elixir of everlasting life.' Doc shrugged. 'But now I have it, thanks to Shamash, so I am delivering it as vowed.'

If the subject didn't have the vital gene in his make up he could not return to life. Rhiannon knew this, but still felt she had to protest - just in case. 'You can't just raise him from the dead after eight hundred years! His soul has surely moved on elsewhere.'

'And what of Jennifer Pearce's soul? She was raised from the dead in this fashion, after I killed her.' Doc's smirk broadened as he perceived Rhiannon's dismay.

'How do I know about her resurrection?' He crouched beside his wife, to better perceive her rising dread.

'Well, honey, it's like this ... you're not suffering from a virus, but rather a big, bad growth on your brain. This growth is playing havoc with your mind's functions and you're remembering things that you thought were long erased from your memory. For, as with a computer, data is never really erased from the mind. It just gets stored in an out-of-the-way place, waiting for some hacker to come dig it up. It was a nice try though,' he allowed in closing. 'You really had me fooled for a while there. A long while.'

By now, Rhiannon really felt like she'd had the shit kicked out of her. 'What else do you know?' She was almost too afraid to ask.

'Oh, lots of interesting things.' Doc took a long pause to consider which pieces of information would vex her the most. 'For example, I found out Ray Murdock was your lover ... which did seem to explain why you've been pissed at me since the Death Valley disaster. It must have felt really shitty, just standing back and allowing me to fill your true love full of holes.'

'Shut up.' Rhiannon made a feeble attempt at hitting him. 'I am glad you know. Now I can tell you how every second I spend with you makes my skin crawl -'

'However, that's not the best thing I found out.' Doc spoke up over her outburst and ended it. 'I know where the base of your illusive kin is located.' He raised his eyebrows and nodded surely to confirm her horror. 'But before I can deal with them, I need a strategist, someone I can trust. And that's why I have come to fetch Temujin, as he was, after all, history's foremost conqueror.'

Rhiannon began shaking violently when she realised that the only way she could stop Doc was to kill herself. She grabbed for his gun, but in her weakened state her reach fell short of her hopes.

'No heroics, thank you.'

Rhiannon felt the familiar prick of a module being clapped around her wrist, at which time she knew it was all over.

'Stick around. The fun has only just began.' Doc left her to check on the progress of his excavation.

Rhiannon checked her pockets for the ENZU-GUZ as soon as Doc's back was turned, but between all her layers of clothing and her fragile state she could not locate it.

Within the hour Doc's workers pulled back the tombstone, and they all entered the underground passage that led to the burial chamber. Here was inscribed a curse on those who would disturb the resting place of the mighty Khan. Doc took this curse to mean the smell that got worse the further they proceeded into the crypt.

The great ruler had been buried in five coffins, one inside the other. The innermost one was made of pure gold; Doc knew this as he'd been at the burial ceremony. He also knew Temujin had been entombed with several slaves, horses, jewels and so forth. But, since it was only the ruler's body he'd come for, Doc left all else as it was.

As the workmen hauled the huge coffin out into the daylight, Rhiannon was seized by two of Doc's men and hauled towards the entrance of the tomb. Doc was insisting that she see the inner sanctum and, although she was just as insistent about not seeing it, when he ordered her inside Rhiannon could not refuse.

She edged down the passage, Doc pushing her onward, the smell of death wreaking havoc with her already sensitive stomach. Up ahead, a couple of torches had been lit, so when they entered the chamber all the beauty and the horror of the sacred burial place impacted on Rhiannon to its fullest extent.

Jewels and great treasure glistened around the rotten remains of men and horses, who had been buried alive with their leader.

'Okay, I've seen it. Can I go now?' she pleaded, quickly covering her nose and mouth once more.

'No.' He shoved her to the ground, and she sprawled in the space the huge coffin had once occupied. 'You get to stay. The module on your wrist will prevent you from willing yourself out of here and destroys all hope of your kindred ever finding you. And, just in case you're thinking you can cut your way out of this one ...' he held up the ENZU-GUZ that Ray had died to give her, 'you'd best think again.'

She was beyond words, beyond hope.

Rhiannon had nothing left to fight him with, no trick left up her sleeve.

'But just to show you there are no hard feelings, I won't leave you to rot alone.'

Stanley entered carrying the unconscious herdsman and dumped him on the ground beside Rhiannon.

'No, please, he'll surely die.' She begged them to reconsider.

'Well, it wasn't my idea! You're the one who insisted on bringing him with you.' Doc grinned and then followed Stanley out. 'Ciao bella, it's been fun.'

'This isn't goodbye, Cadwaladr, you scum sucking maggot!' Rhiannon yelled after him, though her fury only made her feel worse. 'I hate you,' she screamed with the last of her strength, as they sealed the tomb over. 'I've always hated you,' she mumbled, collapsing into an exhausted heap of tears.

Soon the torches would use up all the oxygen and burn themselves out. Rhiannon wondered if the dear old herdsman would have the chance to regain consciousness before they both died of asphyxiation.

She would be born again, but the herdsman would not.

He would end up like the other poor bastards who had been entombed alive in this place, and then she would have to live with his death and his rotting corpse.

Upon leaving Tarazean, Tory and Maelgwn felt a lot better than they had when they'd arrived. Besides their renewed trust and zest for each other, they carried with them Narnar's private parts, the ransom the God had asked for Dumuzi's release.

This is like a bad dream, Ningal said, as she caught sight of Narnar's stone palace, for she remembered how her husband had implored her not to leave him there. It does seem to me now that I must have been as heartless as he.

'But we are going to change all that,' Tory assured her. 'Just by being here, you have already become part of the solution.'

How clever of you, Lamamu. I have, haven't I? The Goddess touched an escaped tear from her cheek. It just hurts less when you're part of the problem.

Tory shook her head to disagree. 'No. Fear, hate, pain, guilt, lust, excess, greed - they kill the emotions.

You're numbed! So in reality, it only seems to hurt less.'

I knew that once, the Goddess announced, a mite ashamed of being lectured in the nature of spirituality by one who was not of her breed. I knew it, I believed it, I lived it. But I have long forgotten the wisdom taught to me by my father. Since Enki vanished from our midst, I think we have all forgotten. Ningal bowed her head in shame.

' What happened to him?' Tory was intrigued, Enki being her great-grandfather.

Ningal looked back at Tory, and with a casual shrug replied, He became so enlightened that he evolved to a higher state of consciousness. As did Enlil, Ninlil, Ninki and Ninharsag.

The last three Nefilim mentioned were females, who Tory felt confident comprised the triple goddess she had encountered on more than one occasion.

She already knew Ninharsag was Keridwen, so the rest just stood to reason. 'So who is ruling the galaxies if all the responsible adults, so to speak, have moved on?'

The Pantheon of Twelve, of which I am a member, Ningal informed her, taking offence.

'Shamash and Inanna too, I suppose?' Tory got a nod for an answer. 'Marduk,' she went on.

'No, Marduk was banished, because of Dumuzi,'

Maelgwn cut in. 'Since then, it has been discovered that your grandfather further offended the Pantheon by making love to a mortal woman, even though Enlil expressly forbade it.'

'Several women most likely,' Tory added, considering that all the immortal tribes had acquired the vital gene from someone.

But Maelgwn knew different. 'Marduk swears he only ever loved the one woman. It was just over several of her lifetimes.'

Well, I cannot see that his coupling with this woman is as great a crime as Enlil once decreed, Ningal reasoned.