Michael Crichton - Timeline

It's all going to be timing, she thought.

Sir Guy paused on the far side of the strut, watching her for a moment. Then he crouched down and started to make his way around the strut. His hand was wrapped around the wood, the sword in his right hand temporarily pressed against the strut.

She ran forward and stabbed his hand with the dagger, pinning it to the strut. Then she swung around to the opposite side of the strut and kicked his feet off the central beam. Guy fell into space, dangling from his pinned hand. He clenched his teeth but didn't make a sound. Jesus, these guys were tough!

Still clutching his sword, he tried to get back up on the beam. But by then she had swung back to her original position, on the other side of the beam. His eyes met hers.

He knew what she was going to do.

"Rot in hell," he snarled.

"You first," she said.

She pulled her dagger free from the wood. Guy fell silently to the ground below, his body growing smaller. Halfway down, he struck a pole from which a banner hung; his body caught on the wrought-iron point, and for a moment he hung there; then the pole snapped and he slammed onto a table, sending crockery flying. The guests jumped back. Guy lay among the broken crockery. He didn't move.

Oliver was pointing up at Kate and shouting, "Kill him! Kill him!" The cry was taken up around the room. Archers ran for weapons.

Oliver did not wait; in a fury, he stomped out of the hall, taking several soldiers with him.

She heard maids in waiting, young children, everyone, chanting, "Kill him!" and she sprinted along the center beam, going for the wall at the far end of the great hall. Arrows whooshed past her, thunked into the wood. But they were too late; she could see that there was a second door in the other wall, matching the first, and she hit it hard, knocking it open, and crawled out of the hall, into darkness.

It was a very tight space. She banged her head against the ceiling, and she realized that this was the north end of the great hall, which meant it was freestanding and did not abut the castle wall. Therefore…

She pushed upward, at the roof. A section gave way. She stepped out onto the roof, and from there she climbed easily up onto the ramparts of the inner wall.

From here, she could see the siege was fully under way. Volleys of fiery arrows hissed overhead in smooth arcs, then descended to the courtyard below. Archers on the battlements returned the fire. Cannon on the battlements were being loaded with metal arrows, with de Kere striding back and forth, barking instructions. De Kere didn't notice her.

She turned away, pressed her ear and said, "Chris?"

De Kere spun, his hand clapped over his ear. Suddenly he was turning, looking everywhere, along the length of the battlements and down into the courtyard.

It was de Kere.

And then de Kere saw her. He recognized her immediately.

Kate ran.

Chris said, "Kate? I'm down here." Flaming arrows were slashing down all over the courtyard. He waved to her up on the wall, but he was not sure she could see him in the darkness.

She said, "It's-" but the rest was lost in static. By then he had turned away, watching Oliver and four soldiers cross the courtyard, and go into a square building that he assumed was the arsenal.

Chris at once began to follow, when a flaming ball landed at his feet, bounced, and rolled to a stop. Through the flames he could see that it was a human head, eyes open, lips drawn back. The flesh burned, the fat popping. A passing soldier kicked it away like a soccer ball.

One of the arrows raining down on the courtyard brushed past his shoulder and left behind a streak of flame on his sleeve. He could smell the pitch and feel the heat on his arm and face. Chris threw himself onto the ground, but the fire did not go out. It seemed to be smoldering; the heat became worse. He got to his knees and, using his dagger, cut his doublet open. He shrugged out of the burning coat and threw it aside. The back of his hand was still aflame, from tiny drops of pitch. He rubbed his hand in the dust of the courtyard.

The fire at last went out.

Standing again, he said, "André? I'm coming." But there was no answer. Alarmed, he jumped to his feet, just in time to see Oliver emerge from the arsenal, leading the Professor and Marek away, heading to a far door in the castle wall. The soldiers pushed them forward at swordpoint. Chris didn't like the look of it. He had the uneasy sense that Oliver was going to kill them.

"Kate."

"Yes, Chris."

"I see them."

"Where?"

"Going into that corner door."

He started to follow, realized he needed a weapon. Just a few feet away, a burning arrow struck a soldier in the back, knocking him face down on the ground. Chris bent over, took the man's sword, then stood again and turned to go.

"Chris."

A man's voice, in his earpiece. An unfamiliar voice that he didn't recognize. Chris looked around, but saw only running soldiers, flaming arrows whizzing through the air, a burning courtyard.

"Chris." The voice was soft. "Over here."

Through the flames he saw a dark figure standing motionless as a statue, staring at him across the courtyard. This dark figure ignored the fighting that swirled around him. He stared fixedly at Chris. It was Robert de Kere.

"Chris. Do you know what I want?" de Kere said.

Chris didn't answer him. Nervously, he hefted the sword in his hand, feeling the weight. De Kere just watched him. He chuckled softly. "Are you going to fight me, Chris?"

And then de Kere started walking toward him.

Chris took a breath, not certain whether to stay or run. And suddenly a door behind the great hall burst open and a knight came out, in full armor except for his helmet, bellowing, "For God and the Archpriest Arnaut!" He recognized the handsome knight, Raimondo. Dozens of soldiers in green and black were pouring out into the courtyard, engaging Oliver's troops in a pitched battle.

De Kere was still stalking him, but now he paused, uncertain about this new development. Suddenly Arnaut grabbed Chris by the throat, holding his sword high. Arnaut pulled him close, shouting, "Oliver! Where is Oliver!"

Chris pointed to the far door.

"Show me!"

He went with Arnaut across the courtyard, through the door. Following stairs spiraling downward, they came to a series of underground chambers. They were large and gloomy, with high curved ceilings.

Arnaut pushed ahead, panting, red-faced with fury. Chris hurried to keep up with him. They passed through a second chamber, empty like the first. But now Chris heard voices up ahead. One of them sounded like the Professor's.

On the control room monitors, the computer-generated undulating field had begun to show spikes. Biting her lip, Kramer watched the spikes grow in higher and wider. She drummed her fingers on the table. Finally, she said, "Okay. Let's fill the tanks at least. Let's see how they do."

"Good," Gordon said, looking relieved. He picked up the radio, began to give orders to the technicians down in the transit room.

On the video monitors, Stern watched as heavy hoses were dragged over to the first of the empty shield tanks. Men climbed up ladders and adjusted the nozzles. "I think this is best," Gordon said. "At least we'll-"

Stern jumped to his feet. "No," he said. "Don't do it."

"What?"

"Don't fill the tanks."

Kramer stared at him. "Why? What can-"

"Don't do it!" Stern said. He was shouting in the small control room. On the screen, technicians were holding water nozzles above the fill aperture. "Tell them to stop! No water whatever in the tank! Not a drop!"

Gordon gave an order on the radio. The technicians looked up in surprise, but they stopped their work, lowered the hoses back to the floor.