«Cripes,» said Brodsky, «and me without my heater. And you a shiv man with no shiv.»
It occurred to Shea that at whatever period they had hit this place, he was in a singularly weaponless state. He climbed on the boulder against which the missile had destroyed itself and looked in all directions. There was no sign of life except the distant, tiny sheep — not even a shepherd or a sheep-dog.
He slid down and sat on a ledge of the boulder and considered, the stone feeling hard against his wet back. «Sweetheart,» he said, addressing Belphebe, «it seems to me that whenever we are, the first thing we have to do is find people and get oriented. You’re the guide. Which direction’s the most likely?»
The girl shrugged. «My woodcraft is nought without trees,» she said, «but if you put it so, I’d seek a valley, for people ever live by watercourses.»
«Good idea,» said Shea. «Let’s.»
Whizz!
Another boulder flew through the air, but not in their direction. It struck the turf a hundred yards away, bounced clumsily, and rolled out of sight over the hill. Still — no one was visible.
Brodsky emitted a growl, but Belphebe laughed.
«We are encouraged to begone,» she said. «Come, my lord, let us do no less.»
At that moment another sound made itself audible. It was that of a team of horses and a vehicle whose wheels were in violent need of lubrication. With a drumming of hooves, a jingle of harness, and a squealing of wheels, a chariot rattled up the slope and into view. It was drawn by two huge horses, one gray and one black. The chariot itself was built more on the lines of a sulky than those of the open-backed Graeco-Roman chariot, with a seat big enough for two or three persons across the back, and the sides cut low in front to allow for entrance. The vehicle was ornamented with nail-heads and other trim in gold, and a pair of scythe-blades jutted from the hubs.