Britannia Unleashed

Temporalis-4

DESCENT INTO DARKNESSBelvedere had never been a man who was good with heights, even trimming his moustache gave him a headache. However, in true bulldog spirit, he puffed out his chest, focused on the crumbling cliff face and lowered himself steadily down, hand over sweaty hand. Being a strong man, the effort of the climb did not bother him; the insects did.

“Confound and blast these damnable things. Have they nothing else to chew on other than my neck!”

Belvedere’s cursing grew progressively bleaker the lower he descended. It seemed the closer he drew to the jungle canopy, the greater the insect population’s density: not an equation he relished. When a ledge of sorts provided a temporary respite from the monotony of the climb, Belvedere took the opportunity to remove his jacket. In a very un-Britannian manner, he draped the thing over his head and tied it by the arms under his chin, the whole effect being one of a moustachioed bunny with its ears tied down.

“Damn fine sight I look,” he bemoaned. “Thank goodness I’m alone, I should never live it down.”

“Aowarrrgh!”

A sound of distant magnitude broke Belvedere’s protestations. Instinctively, he backed against the crumbling cliff, pulling the vines he clung to across his frame. The plant matter offered little protection against being seen, but anything was better than nothing. Leaning forward a touch, he allowed himself to angle out over the only slightly lessened abyss and gazed down with intent.

At first, there was nothing to be seen, nor heard. Belvedere strained his every auditory and visual senses, but the jungle was still, a never-ending spread of emerald-green like looking down on the top of a piece of broccoli if one was an ant.

A second bestial growl shattered the fragile peace. Belvedere, remembering lessons learned from several African safaris where rampaging elephants had burst from the bush unannounced, remained motionless.

The fact several distant trees shivered of their own volition suggested his decision apt. The arboreal canopy undulated, as though an ocean of green, the leaves atop it rustling like a living surf. So loud was the disturbance, it almost eclipsed the sound of breaking branches. Almost, but not quite.

Belvedere watched as the tidal nature of the jungle roof swept towards him, and even though being far too high to be affected by it, he experienced fear. Belvedere was not a man prone to such outbursts, yet, on this occasion, he felt it understandable. No living beast could have smashed through the jungle like the mystery creature below, none.

Belvedere furrowed his brow; the commotion troubled him. For a moment, he thought he’d made the wrong decision in choosing to climb down those high cliffs, the blue phial around his neck dangling with ever more precarious worry. But worrisome inaction was unfamiliar ground to a man known for his valour, so Belvedere set his jaw and prepared to confront the beast below.

About to further his descent, our hero paused at a second set of barking noises, which halted the trajectory of the more vocal beast. Whatever the thing may have purported to be, it turned tail and fled, as indicated by the back-surge of movement across the rolling treetops. The fact such a beast should run from anything be it another gigantic beast or many smaller predators, was a vexing notion to Belvedere. What happened next was even more so.

“Shabat! Shabal! Shabe!” A trio of sharp calls divided the prehistoric world into sections. The voice was human, as was the accompanying triad of whistles.

Belvedere strained every optic muscle but there was nothing visible through so dense a jungle. He contemplated shouting to whomever was below; experience prevented it. Belvedere was not a man of science, he’d never pretended to be, but even he knew nothing resembling humanity should be in this time zone. The urge to hail his fellow denizen of the past was suppressed and common sense prevailed.

The shouts and whistles continued a while, as they moved further away. Eventually, both the large, small, and human beasts diminished into the distance until our hero heard them no more.

Belvedere toyed with the phial around his neck. “What to do? What to do?” he mused. “I know what Albert would have me do, drink the damn stuff and return home. But Albert isn’t here,” he said to himself, “and I’ll be buggered if I give Monk the pleasure of seeing me return like a frightened rabbit.” The mere mention of Monk’s name, a man he detested due to his insidious nature, was enough to make Belvedere’s blood boil. He made his decision: onwards.