Within their upstairs chambers, Grant and Charly were having a discussion upon an old subject. Charly sat at the table, examining the sapphire ring.

“Damn strange thing this you know. It has the ability to open a time portal to the past.”

“A past now destroyed mate. I hope you aren’t thinking of using it again.”

“Don’t worry Grant. No past to return to now.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“There are two of them right?”

“Yes, the king has the other.”

“We also know that this was the queen’s.”

“I follow so far.”

“So who made them? It’s some serious tech and this lot certainly didn’t create them.”

“Perhaps an alien did?” Grant suggested.

“That’s possible but surely the king would have mentioned that.”

“He certainly knew nothing about those wretched crystals,” Grant reminded him.”

“That proves my point.”

The door rapped and the king entered with a smile upon his face.

“I’ve been talking to the stores man and it appears that we are short of salt.”

“You get it from the sea I suppose,” Charly said slipping the ring back inside the drawer.

“A team of six men do that captain. They spend a week boiling it off and bringing the salt back.”

“What do you need that stuff for,” Grant asked absentmindedly.

Charly shook his head.

“They use it for curing and preserving meat of course.”

Charly stood and said, “Sire, may I show you something?”

When the king nodded, he was led into a small rear room. At the far end stood a small box with wire mesh across the door. When Charly opened it, a series of shelves were revealed.

“Some kind of cupboard?” the king asked.

“It’s a cooler sir. In medieval times this was the forerunner to the fridge.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

Charly rubbed his head.

“I intend to use it to store fresh food sire. I got the carpenter to knock one up for me. I also instructed that a pyramid shaped one is also made.”

“That will work better,” Grant added.

“I see,” the king said. “It certainly sounds interesting. Concerning the salt team, would you mind going?”

Charly shook his head.

“I don’t mind sire. The outing will probably do us some good.”

“What do you mean by us?” Grant asked.

“You are coming too mate.”

Upon the sea, a shell like wooden boat paddled its way carefully following the shoreline.

The owner was a keen fisherman, though the apparatus was rather on the primitive side. A length of wire, courtesy of the blacksmith was wrapped around a square wooden handle. A lethal hook finished off the effect.

He lived within a small up shore community that prided itself on strict privacy.

“I just hope this area is a bit more productive than the previous one. Three ruddy days in this contraption would drive anyone quite mad.”

He stopped paddling at last, noting that people were approaching from landward.

“They are no concern of mine.”

He hooked the dead fish and dropped it over the side, settling himself down for the expected bite.

He did not notice the small black dorsal fin break surface. It swam a short way before dipping under the cold surface once more.

This animal resulted from the rapid evolution that followed the mass extinction of a thousand years previous.

The sensitive nose was shark like, but four stiff fins had grown along its stomach that allowed it to crawl short distances upon land. It did this to lay its eggs, which it left promptly to fend for themselves.

It nosed the dead bait and swam on. Dead fish did not concern it though. This animal preferred live food.

It turned suddenly and slowed. As the calculation was made, the flat tail swished and the nose struck the strange flimsy craft.

The fisherman was rather alarmed when his boat overturned suddenly.
As he bobbed up, grabbing the side of the upside down shell he gasped, “What the hell hit me? I’m too far out for it to be rocks.”
These were the last words that he would ever utter. A sudden firm pressure gripped his floundering limbs and pulled him silently beneath the surface.

Upon the headland, none of the approaching men had seen a thing.

“Nearly there,” Charly muttered as the horse and cart neared the sandy beach.

Grant pointed to a small dark object floating well offshore.

“What do you think that is?”

Charly peered carefully from his mount.

“Just a piece of flotsam mate.”

The six-man team quickly set up their salt maker and set to work as the two friends walked the beach.

“Is it hot under that armour?” Grant asked.

“Thankfully not too hot. I got the blacksmith to punch small holes under the armpits for ventilation.”

Grant stumbled and Charly peered down at the offending object. It was oval shaped and quite smooth to the touch.

“It looks like an egg you know,” Charly muttered.

“Out here?”

“It could have come from a turtle.”

Grant shook his head.

“Too far north mate.”

“The currents would have changed since our time. Don’t forget that.”

When darkness came that first night, the two friends were lying upon their backs watching the stars twinkling as the fire roared.

“Seems strange Charly, watching the stars with no moon.”

“I feel that also mate. Of course with no moon, no tides either.”

A bulky chap wandered over.

“I’m just off for a pee mate.”

“Go ahead. Just don’t be too long.”

Grant giggled.

“What’s funny?”

“The weight of authority mate.”

As the chap relieved himself at the water’s edge, a dark shape rose out of the ocean and snapped its teeth around his waist. As a terrible scream rent the air, his colleagues came running.

“Where the hell has he gone?” Grant asked staring at the empty sand.

“I really don’t know. We’ll wait till morning and mount a search eh? Naught we can do tonight."

As dawn broke on the second day, the search began. Gazing at the sand Charly pointed out the thick drag marks.

“Something came out of that ocean and took him.”

“Like a sea going croc?”

“Perhaps. One thing is certain though. Just don’t go for a paddle.”

“What do we say to the others?” Grant asked.

“We make damn sure that no one strays too close to the beach after dark.”

As Charley’s mind worked, he realised something.

“Remember that egg?”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps the killer laid that. If it follows turtles, it would do that at night.”

“I would rather it be one of those,” his friend replied.

The search was called off, and the gathering of the vital salt began once more.

As the sun went down Charly ensured that everyone sat around the burning flames.

From the beach, the animal waded ashore once more and squeezing its lower underside tightly, vomited another egg onto the sand. It then hobbled on, its rear fins flicking a layer of sand upon it.

It raised its snout, detecting the scent of burning wood. Curiosity took over and it lurched toward the flames and the unsuspecting men.

As it moved closer, it scented warm flesh and waited silently. Once the men were asleep, it struck suddenly. Powerful jaws snapped around the victim’s leg, an action that severed the artery. As screams and blood mixed together, the others woke with a start.

“Get the ruddy sword!” Charly barked as the leg was ripped away. By the time that the weapons had been returned, the animal was swishing its way out to sea.

“Don’t go there!” Charly shouted as the man ran in pursuit. “There may be more of them.”

He was relieved when the fellow returned safely.

Charly grabbed a torch and applied it to the gaping wound.
Thankfully, the victim was quite unconscious.

“We can’t stay here!” Grant shouted.

“We’ll move further inland,” Charly replied. “Come on, help me with him.”

The man was dead when the third day arrived.

“Have you got enough salt yet?”

“No captain. Some way to go yet.”

“Very well. Make what you need then. Tonight though, we camp about a mile inland. I doubt these animals can travel that far. As for us Grant, we patrol the damn beach line.”

As the day progressed the workers done their best and at sunset they retreated to the safety of the new camp.

As the friends patrolled with lit torches and drawn swords, Grant was grumbling.

“I’ll be happy when we get home.”

“So will I mate. No resource is worth two lives.”

As the waves crashed, a slithering sound took their attention. As the burning torches were waived, seven of the animals broke from the water. Charly took one look.

“Time to run mate. This whole coastline is deadly.”

The animals had other things upon their minds that night though. Being capable of self-fertilisation, they avoided damage during the coitus process.

Lumbering onto the cold sand, they laid their eggs with precision before lumbering seaward once more.

When the fourth day arrived, the salt gatherers redoubled their efforts.

As darkness fell once more, a lone animal lumbered onto shore looking for a fresh kill. The human meat was well gone but other animals had not followed their advice.

A lone rabbit that was lost perhaps, bound across the sand quite happily until the animal struck.

At dawn of the fifth day, Charly got some good news.

“If we repeat yesterday’s gains, today should do it sir.”

“You mean that we can go home?” Grant asked.

“We sure can.”

Charly glanced at his good friend.

“We’ll give you a hand. The quicker we leave the better.”

They worked without stop until an hour before sunset. By that time, enough salt had been collected and they loaded up at last.

As the cart trundled off, Charly looked back.

“Good riddance!”

The people were well gone as dawn arrived once more. The empty overturned shell of a boat was bobbing in the waves as one of the animals gave it a short, sharp shove.

From beneath the overturned hull, the half eaten skull of the fisherman bobbed into view.

The animal closed in and crushed it to a pulp, as the boat was lifted onto the empty beach by the action of the waves.

Ewwww.....:) Good read, :)....and im liking the new pic too...Cheers!

Ta...