The Time Hunters (The Time Hunters Saga Book 1) by Carl Ashmore

Author:Carl Ashmore [Ashmore, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2010-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

In the Shadows of the Past

After deciding they would camp there for the night, Uncle Percy spent rest of the afternoon finding reasons to isolate himself from the group. He would go for lengthy walks along the gorge admiring the griffon vultures and picking wild orchids. He would paddle in the shallow sea, gathering shells and placing them in a small leather pouch, claiming to be a keen conchologist.

Becky knew this was all a front. He needed time to consider Jason’s story and think about their next step. As she watched him pluck the umpteenth shell from the damp sand, she felt a powerful sense of helplessness.

Joe, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to her concerns and decided to lighten the mood by teaching the Argonauts to play cricket. He found a stained cork ball in the campervan (which judging by the deep grooves in its surface belonged to Milly) and whittled some stumps out of olive branches, whilst Will carved a makeshift bat.

Joe soon came to the conclusion the Argonauts were the worst cricketers he had ever seen. Phineus stood more chance of catching the ball with his ears than his hands. Hercules was even worse, and Jason launched himself with such gusto at his first delivery that the bat flew out of his hands and crashed into Hercules’ forehead, knocking him out cold.

By the time Uncle Percy had returned daylight had bowed to a comfortable dusk. The solitude seemed to have rejuvenated him and he joked with Becky as they lit a fire and watched as fine wisps of smoke slithered into the sky.

Dinner was a jovial affair, and Becky found herself enjoying the company of the Argonauts immensely. She watched as Theseus, his condition much improved, Phineus and Hercules, (Jason remained oddly quiet) took centre-stage and entertained them with folk songs and fantastical tales of the Gods. Before long the sun had set and a full moon cast a silver flush over the camp.

An hour later, Becky lay under a blanket, taking in the glittering stars above. Despite the day’s revelations, she felt remarkably at peace. Listening to the crackling embers of the fire, her eyes searched out Uncle Percy. She found him sitting on a rock, staring blankly out to sea. She walked over, her bare feet welcoming the coolness of the sand.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Becky said.

Uncle Percy looked up. ‘I believe this rock was made for two.’

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Becky said, sitting down and gazing out at the water.

‘The sea is always beautiful,’ Uncle Percy replied softly. ‘It’s one of life’s constants. No matter when or where you are, the sea remains the same - wonderful, elegant, dangerous and vast.’

Becky hesitated for a second. ‘The messenger’s worried you?’

‘Well, granted, it was unforeseen,’ Uncle Percy replied, ‘but when travelling you come to expect the unexpected. After all, it is we who are the trespassers. You must never forget that.’

Shocked to hear him use a word like trespass, Becky said, ‘I prefer to think of it as visiting…visiting the best museum in the world.

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