Niall, who was marching in the rear, glanced periodically behind him; this was not because he suspected they were being followed, but simply because he felt that, as the rear guard, he should heed Simeon’s injunction to remain alert. But a few hundred yards after they had changed direction, a curious sense of uneasiness made him halt and look behind him. Was it an illusion, or had his eyes caught a glimpse of movement at the point where the trail vanished into the reeds? Unaware that he had stopped, Manetho and Doggins continued to march on; as their footsteps receded and the silence deepened, Niall heard another sound: a stealthy movement in the reeds a few feet to his left. He leaned forward, listening intently, but as he moved his weight from one foot to the other, a reed snapped, and the rustling noise immediately ceased. He felt no alarm; the weight of the Reaper in his hands gave him a sense of being in control of the situation. He stepped forward cautiously, using the barrel of the Reaper to thrust the reeds aside.
With startling suddenness, he was looking directly into the eyes of the frog-like creature. Its face was less than two feet away, and it looked as shocked as he was. As he halted, the reeds gave way, and he raised his arms instinctively to prevent himself from falling. The lips of the creature drew back into a snarl, and Niall found himself looking into two rows of yellow pointed fangs. There was a hissing sound, and a jet of warm liquid struck his cheek and temple. As he recovered his balance, the creature was gone. Niall caught a glimpse of a grey body pushing its way into the reeds in such a way that they remained unbroken, and closed behind it.
Doggins’ voice shouted: “Niall, where are you?” The liquid that ran down his cheek suddenly began to sting, and Niall bent down, scooped up a handful of the muddy water, and washed his skin.
Doggins said: “What happened?”
“We’re being followed.” His skin began to burn; he wet his handkerchief, and used it to rub the cheek. “It was that thing like a frog. It spat at me.”
They stood there, listening, for at least five minutes, but there was no other sound.
Doggins asked: “Do you still think it’s harmless?”
Niall shook his head. “Not after I’ve seen its teeth. It’s definitely a meat-eater.”
Doggins looked at the sky. “We’d better get a move on.” They were all thinking the same thing: that the marshes were an undesirable place to spend the night.
As they marched on, Niall’s face began to sting; ten minutes later, he had to halt and bathe it again. Doggins looked at it with concern.
“It’s beginning to turn red. It must be some kind of venom.”
Manetho said: “One of the sailors was once attacked by a spitting cobra — it almost blinded him.”
The thought of experiencing this burning sensation in his eyes made Niall shudder.
They continued to follow the path through the crushed reeds. The ground became increasingly marshy, and they were all aware that only a thick carpet of reeds and rushes prevented them from sinking up to their knees in mud. This yielding carpet was tiring to the legs, and the sticky heat made them perspire so their garments looked as wet as if they had been swimming.
But the curtain of reeds was now less dense, and the reeds themselves were becoming lower. Occasionally, they were able to hear the sound of the armoured creature moving ahead of them. Niall glanced back continually over his shoulder, but saw no more of the frog-like animal. He was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain his vigilance; his chief desire now was to find a dry place where he could sit down and rest.
Manetho suddenly crashed through the carpet of reeds, and floundered in water up to his waist. He had been marching in front, and was the heaviest of the three. They helped to pull him out again, then to recover one of his canvas boots, which had stuck in the mud. As Niall groped among the reeds, he felt a movement on his wrist, and snatched his arm away; a black leech, at least four inches long, was crawling up his forearm. He struck it off with a gesture of disgust, then used a handful of wet grass to rub violently at the slimy patch it had left behind.
It was plain that the route they were following was becoming impractical; yet the thought of retracing their steps filled them with a sense of weariness. As they stood there indecisively, wondering what to do next, they were shocked out of their fatigue by a bellow of agony. There were violent splashing sounds from somewhere ahead of them, then another bellowing roar. Then, quite suddenly, there was silence.
Their tiredness vanished. They stood looking at one another, their Reapers held at the ready. Now they could hear only faint splashing and gurgling sounds.
Niall said: “I’m afraid we’d better go back.”
Doggins frowned. “I’d like to see what’s happening there.” He began to move forward cautiously, testing each step before he placed his weight on it. The other two, equally curious, followed him. Doggins rounded a bend in the path, and raised his Reaper. Then, slowly, he lowered it again, turning to warn them to move silently. They joined him a moment later.
Ahead of them lay a marshy pool, whose water had been churned into mud. The hump of the armoured creature rose out of the water; its head was turned away from them. This meant that they were unable to see what it was eating; but its movements made it clear that it was holding something between its front paws, and gorging itself on its flesh. Alerted by some sixth sense, it turned its head and looked at them. The tiny eyes glared at them from under the horny projections on its forehead; the warty, toad-like face was covered with blood, and blood dripped from its masticating jaws. Niall’s finger prepared to squeeze the trigger. But after surveying them for a moment, the creature turned its head away, and went on eating. It evidently felt so totally invulnerable in its armour that the presence of these human creatures left it unconcerned.
They looked at one another. The path ahead was obviously closed. Beyond the feeding monster, they could see that the marshes came to an end, and the ground rose towards low hills. On the other side of these, perhaps five miles away, rose the hill with its tower-like stump. But at this distance, they could see that the stump was not a man-made tower; it looked more like the broken horn of some big armoured creature.
They retreated back down the path, and considered their position. To the north, in the direction of the sea, lay more swampland. There would be no advantage in going in that direction. If they wanted to make a detour round the monster, then it would have to be to the south, once more cutting their way through the reeds.
The thought of leaving the marsh behind them raised their courage. Doggins pointed his Reaper and, moving the lever to its lowest setting, pulled the trigger. The reeds ahead of them collapsed as if an invisible giant had strode among them. At the same time, there was a hissing shriek. Doggins chuckled grimly. “We got one of them.”
With their weapons raised, they picked their way forward. Within a dozen yards, they found the remains of the creature that had screamed. The grey body had been sliced neatly in two by the Reaper, whose beam had struck it a few inches below the waist. The lips were drawn back from the yellow teeth in a snarl of agony; inside the gaping mouth, above the back of the tongue, Niall could see the narrow tube that spurted the venom.
It was, in fact, a great deal more like a man than a frog; although the feet were webbed, the long legs were thick and powerful. And although the hands were also webbed, it was clear that the fingers were prehensile. The flesh was of a blue-grey colour. An unpleasant stench rose from the exposed intestines, so after pausing for a moment, they hurried on. Around them, in the reeds, they could hear rustling noises; they were obviously being followed.
A quarter of an hour later, low hills were visible beyond the marsh. The reeds on either side of them were becoming thinner, so they could see for a distance of at least a dozen yards. Yet although they continued to hear the sounds of moving bodies, they failed to catch even a glimpse of the creatures on either side of them.
Now it was unnecessary to use the Reaper to clear a path through the marsh; the reeds were sufficiently far apart to provide no obstacle. But the ground beneath their feet was also more treacherous, and at one point Niall lost both his boots, and had to recover them from glutinous black mud that gave off the now familiar stench of rottenness. They were so accustomed to it by this time that they had ceased even to notice it.