Timeline - Michael Crichton [145]
“Maybe. Yes.”
“How? It’s been over a year. Deckard must be dead by now—remember the way he kept picking fights with everybody?”
“Well, something made them turn off their earpieces. . ..”
“I don’t know,” Doniger said. “Rob had too many transcription errors, and he was out of control. Hell, he was going to jail.”
“Yes. For beating up some guy in a bar he’d never seen before,” Kramer said. “The police report said Deckard hit him fifty-two times with a metal chair. The guy was in a coma for a year. And Rob was definitely going to jail. That’s why he volunteered to go back one more time.”
“If Deckard’s still alive,” Doniger said, “then they’re still in trouble.”
“Yes, Bob. They’re still in plenty of trouble.”
09:57:02
Back in the cool darkness of the forest, Marek drew a rough map in the dirt with a stick. “Right now, we’re here, behind the monastery. The mill is over here, about a quarter mile from where we are. There’s a checkpoint we have to get past.”
“Uh-huh,” Chris said.
“And then we have to get into the mill.”
“Somehow,” Chris said.
“Right. After that, we have the key. So we go to the green chapel. Which is where, Kate?”
She took the stick, and drew a square. “If this is La Roque, on top of the cliff, then there’s a forest to the north. The road’s about here. I think the chapel is not very far—maybe here.”
“A mile? Two miles?”
“Say two miles.”
Marek nodded.
“Well, that’s all easy enough,” Chris said, standing and wiping the dirt from his hands. “All we have to do is get past the armed checkpoint, into the fortified mill, then go to some chapel—and not get killed on the way. Let’s get started.”
:
Leaving the forest behind, they moved through a landscape of destruction. Flames leapt above the Monastery of Sainte-Mère, and clouds of smoke darkened the sun. Black ash covered the ground, fell on their faces and shoulders, and thickened the air. They tasted grit in their mouths. Across the river, they could just make out the dark outline of Castelgard, now a blackened, smoking ruin on the hillside.
Walking through this desolation, they saw no one else for a long time. They passed one farmhouse to the west of the monastery, where an elderly man lay on the ground, with two arrows in his chest. From inside, they heard the sound of a baby crying. Looking inside, they saw a woman, hacked to death, lying face down by the fire; and a young boy of six, staring at the sky, his innards sliced open. They did not see the baby, but the sounds seemed to be coming from a blanket in the corner.
Kate started toward it, but Marek held her back. “Don’t.”
They continued on.
:
The smoke drifted across an empty landscape, abandoned huts, untended fields. Aside from the farmhouse with its slaughtered inhabitants, they saw no one else.
“Where is everybody?” Chris said.
“They’re all in the woods,” Marek said. “They have huts there, and underground shelters. They know what to do.”
“In the woods? How do they live?”
“By attacking any soldiers that pass by. That’s why the knights kill anyone they find in the forest. They assume they’re godins—brigands—and they know that the godins will return the favor, if they can.”
“So that’s what happened to us, when we first landed?”
“Yes,” Marek said. “The antagonism between commoners and nobles is at its worst right now. Ordinary people are angry that they’re forced to support this knightly class with their taxes and tithes, but when the time comes, the knights don’t fulfill their part of the bargain. They can’t win the battles to protect the country. The French king has been captured, which is very symbolic to the common folk. And now that the war between England and France has stopped, they see only too clearly that the knights are the cause of further destruction. Both Arnaut and Oliver fought for their respective kings at Poitiers. And now they both pillage the countryside to pay their troops. The people don’t like it. So they form bands of godins, living in the forest, fighting back whenever they can.”
“And