Spiral: Book One of the Spiral in Time by Judith Schara Page B

one, and voila, dinner would come running to them!”
    “And the rabbits had swords?” Conan said, with a wink at Germaine.
    “Oh! Oh! Look at this,” She was crouched down, her face close to the stones. Some had come loose. Just barely visible was a small portion of a timbered wall.
    “Well, if this is a rabbit warren, someone went to a lot of trouble for their dinner,” Conan said.
    No one wanted to stop. The possibility of a new discovery was too seductive. They were all hunters now, eager to find what was hidden. Aubrey took photos as Germaine measured and scraped away the chalk. Conan hauled buckets of debris up the ladder to be saved and carefully sifted through by his crew of shovel bums, and then sent to floatation tanks, where plant seeds and other microscopic remains would be analyzed. Everything found in the excavated dirt would have a meaning, even the smallest fragments.
    Aubrey frowned. It had grown steadily warmer and clouds of fine chalk floated in the air, coating everything with a powder. Germaine frowned, too, and wiped her forehead. Her hands turned white with chalk dust. She sat back on her heels, wiped a dusty hand across her pants, and drew a deep breath.
    “This is not a rabbit warren. I’m beginning to think it is a burial,” she said. “Look at the hoard of precious artifacts. The bones and the skull. The sacred cutting of the sword. I think there was a sacrifice made to protect someone very important. This timbered wall reminds me of one I saw in France at the burial mound of a prince of the Marne. There was a double walled timbered enclosure that made a secure room for the burial and all the valuable things that went with the deceased. Then they covered it with rocks and dirt so it was watertight and dry, and nothing would damage the burial.”
    “Not so fast, my dear. What’s a Marne burial doing here? We’re in England, not France. Let’s not leap ahead so fast. We still have to see what’s inside,” Aubrey said, in a wheezing voice. It was the same strange sound in his voice she heard earlier. Now, he was having trouble breathing. She reached over, touching his forehead: he was hot. What was happening to him?
    Aubrey leaned back against the side of pit and closed his eyes. “I’m not feeling so well. I guess the climb really wore me out.”
    “You need to go up above and lie down. This can wait.” Germaine tried to keep the panic out of her voice and was surprised when he agreed. Something was really wrong.
    They helped him climb the ladder out of the pit. He was staggering when he finally reached one of the tents and collapsed on a cot. One of Conan’s crew raced down the ramparts to get a doctor.
    Germaine sat by the cot, holding his hand. He was propped up with several pillows and blankets. His face was white, and now, his hands were cold.
    The army sent up a doctor who insisted on taking Aubrey to hospital—they would send in a Medic helicopter. “Just for some tests,” the doctor said, trying to reassure Germaine. “His blood pressure is very high. And, of course, we need to check his heart.” The doctor attached an oxygen line and started an IV needle in one arm.
    His heart, oh, dear god. Please let him be well. He can’t leave me now.
    As they lifted Aubrey onto a stretcher, he grabbed her hand.
    “You’re in charge until I get back, my girl. Don’t worry. I trust you.” He was wheezing heavily. “That scabbard and sword are very interesting. Use your Aubrey sensors. Top secret technology, eh? And remember what I told you yesterday. Be careful.”

CHAPTER 5
    “So it’s you and me now,” Conan said with a dazzling smile, then frowned. “But not for long. Look, we have company coming.”
    Nicholas Greenwood limped across the grass toward the site, leaning heavily on his cane. Today, his dark, unruly hair was clubbed back with a leather tie, and he was not wearing Druid robes, though she still wondered what his role was with the Druids in the carpark. He