"Thirty-two hours."
"And you remember the fens? Are you sure?"
"I remember that I was a Pict. I was called a vampire and likely a werewolf. And I've had intimations that I go back even farther than those fens."
"My God," said yellow-hair half-aloud. "Thirty-two hours! Did you get a swat on the skull, or was it natural?"
"I think I just woke out of a sleep with it. It took a while to percolate."
"Kill anybody?" he asked casually.
"Five men."
"The primal anger, yes. Five! Then you're Bill Cuff, of course. We've been hearing about you on the radio. Thought you might be one of the Old Companions."
"So that's what I am," I said.
"A name, only a name. We like the useless trappings of fraternity as well as Homo sapiens does."