And she knew that she had to go to the prisoner. The idea set her whole body trembling and she inched even further away from Kuz. Her heart was pounding wildly and sensations which Kuz had failed to arouse within her were making themselves known. An instinct beyond her comprehension was calling her, and she had no choice other than to answer it.

She moved slowly, fearfully, her eyes fixed on the sleeping form by her side. She already had an excuse in case he suddenly awoke; I need to squat. Maybe he would believe her, grab her again by the hair, drag her back, shake her until her brain slopped from side to side. You're lying, woman, you're slinking off to fuck with one of those men out there, aren't you? I'd sooner kill you than have you mate with one of them. She knew he would, too.

But he didn't stir, not even when she straddled over him, eased her trembling right leg clear of the bed, dropped to her knees. She was trembling violently, opened her mouth to stop her teeth chattering. If he sees me now, I'm done.

She crawled, drew back when an ember brightened, burst into yellow flame then died down again, eyed her redly, wickedly. See, Kuz, your woman sneaks off on a mission of infidelity; awake, and beat her.

Kuz half-stirred, grunted in his sleep, then his breathing lapsed back into its former rhythm. Jackie scuttled like a crab surprised by a rock-pool fisherman, a desperation about her ungainly movements. If he wakes now I shall flee into the darkness, hide from him. I would sooner be dead than let you take me again, Kuz.

The settlement was still and silent, the stone houses starkly silhouetted against a quarter moon. The inhabitants slept, had no need to mount a guard. She kept to the shadows, ran from building to building, glancing back fearfully, but there was no pursuit. How long before Kuz's instincts warned him that he was alone in his bed?

Before her she saw a patch of shadow that was blacker than the rest: the pit! New fears assailed her. The strange man who lay in its depths might resent her visit, might shout a warning that would bring the others. She was an enemy, he might attack her, kill her, if she went to him. No, he was not strong enough, her own strength was greater than his.

She lay full-length, used her elbows to propel herself forward. Her arm brushed against something and she recognised it as the ladder; to free him would be simplicity itself. No, first she must look, see him again. She had to be sure.

Nervously she edged her head and shoulders over the rough brink, narrowed her eyes, tried to adjust them to the dense blackness below. Nothing but darkness, the pit might have been empty, the prisoner somehow having scaled the sheer sides and fled. Despair; even if this was so then she was not going back to Kuz. She would die first, by her own hand if necessary.

Wait! She could just make out a shape huddled in the bottom, pale flesh, a curled-up sleeping form. Her acute hearing picked out his breathing, soft and regular. She continued to stare, waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the blackness as they surely would, felt her body tingle with anticipation.

A noise which she identified at once, a dislodged pebble sliding, bouncing, rolling; hitting something, coming to a standstill. Jackie caught her breath, knew that she had knocked against a loose stone, that it had struck the slumbering captive, was stirring him uneasily. He sat up, glanced about him, then looked upwards. And saw her.

'Who's there? What do you want?'

Incomprehensible words in a strange tongue, but fear rather than anger. His face was upturned and she saw the hopelessness in his wide eyes, a hand flung up to protect his head as though he expected to be stoned.

Jackie rose to a kneeling position, wished that in some way she could communicate. See, I am a woman, naked because I have just left my sleeping man's bed. Do not be alarmed because I mean you no harm. I ... I ... she could not express her own feelings even to herself, but something inside her seemed to say, 'I have met one like you before, I know I have.' But she could not be sure . . . that face with the blue eyes had been only a dream and now it was gone forever.

He stood up, and they looked at each other uncertainly, warily. Phil Winder thought, Is this some kind of a trick? He recognised her now, the girl who had been the chiefs woman, too damned attractive for this lot of gorillas. What was she up to, though?

She drew back, disappeared from view. He sighed, leaned back against the side, told himself that she had probably only sneaked down here out of curiosity. God, I wish I'd got some clothes. He sensed that he might be blushing which was bloody silly considering the predicament he was in.

A scraping noise had him jerking his head back upwards; she was here again, struggling to drag something along the ground. He gasped as he saw a criss-cross of uprights and rungs: the ladder! Christ, she was strong, that thing must have weighed several hundredweight, huge boughs cut from growing timber, crosspieces roped on to it. It could still be a trick, though; let the poor bastard think he's going to escape then chase him like a pack of beagles after a hare, set him up for some sport.'

He didn't have much choice, though. The ladder was being eased slowly over the side and now he could reach it, take the strain and help her to lower it. If I stop here I'm at their mercy, at least in the open I do have a slim chance, better than dying like a badger in a baiting pit.

The ladder was down, resting firmly on the bottom; all he had to do was to climb up it. He grasped the rungs, looked up at her again, the reflection of the faint moonlight showing pity and . . . pleading. Please climb up because I need you!

He moved slowly, uncertainly. It could still be a trap, they had forced her to lure him up against her will. Somewhere in the distance dogs were howling, their eager primitive tongue sending a chill up his spine as though they had already scented him and were straining at their leashes.

Phil Winder scrambled out of the deep hole, knelt there looking at his rescuer. She was beautiful all right, but why was she naked? These people wore rough clothing so she didn't have to come to his aid in the nude. Again his inhibitions troubled him as her gaze ran over his body, her eyes wide with amazement. I've never seen anybody quite like you, mister, but I like what I see.

She glanced around, raised a finger to her lips. He listened, heard only the pounding of his own pulses (or hers) and that constant canine noise that reminded him of the howling of wolves in those north-west movies which they showed on TV periodically. She pointed away to the skyline where he saw a black uneven outline that could only be a forest. Pointing again, grasping his arm urgently. We must flee to the woods before they find out that we are missing. Both of us, I'm going too. They'll kill me if they catch me. You, loo.

He followed in her wake, the firm outline of her body, buttocks that wiggled seductively even in primitive flight, moving as lithely as a hunted deer. He would go where she led, unquestioningly; she wanted to leave this place for some reason and he would go with her. He didn't want to think beyond that.

The eastern sky was beginning to pale when they finally came to the fringe of the big pine forest, another world, dank and evil-smelling. A stench like that of rotting corpses; stinkhorn, a fungus that crawled with flies perhaps even fooling them that they were feeding on decomposing flesh.

A magpie chattered a machine-gun-like early warning and a jay screeched its acknowledgement, set a carrion crow cawing. Man was abroad, he had infiltrated one of Nature's fortresses. Beware!

Phil Winder held back a second, hesitated. He would not have ventured in there under normal circumstances, still pandered to his childhood fear of the dark which he had never really overcome. It was the sort of place where your imagination could run riot and after what he had already seen and experienced . . .