Authors: David Gemmell
’Don’t mention Shannow to the others,’ said Griffin.
Madden caught Griffin’s expression and his eyes narrowed. There was something here that remained unsaid, but he trusted Griffin and did not press the point.
That night, just after midnight, fifty riders thundered down on the settlement, riding at full gallop across the eastern pasture. The front line hit the tripwire in the long grass and the horses screamed as their legs were cut out from under them. Men pitched through the air. The second rank of riders dragged on their reins, stopping short of the wire. Shots exploded from twenty rifles, ripping into the raiders; twenty men went down, plus several horses. A second volley from fifteen pistols scythed through the milling riders, and the survivors galloped away. Several men who had been thrown from their mounts set off at a run. Individual riflemen picked them off in the bright moonlight.
As silence descended, Con Griffin reloaded his pistols and walked out into the pasture. Twenty-nine corpses lay on the grass, and eleven horses were dead or dying. Madden and the other wagoners joined him, collecting pistols from the fallen; they were revolvers and cartridge-fed.
’What will they come up with next?’ asked Burke, thrusting a revolver into his belt.
’Look at this,’ said Griffin, staring down at the corpses. ‘They are all dressed alike - like an army in the old books. There’s something very wrong here.’ He turned to Madden. ‘Mount up and follow them. Don’t show yourself. And take no chances. I need to know where they are from -and how many there are.’
Donna Taybard moved alongside Griffin, slipping her arm through his.
’Who are they, Con?’
’I don’t know. But they frighten me.’
’You think they will be back tonight?’
’No. But if they do come, Jacob will let us know.’
’Come home then. Eric will want to hear all about it; he’ll be so proud of you.’
Griffin pulled her close and kissed her lightly on the brow. He wanted so desperately not to tell her about Shannow, wanted her to go on believing he was dead. They had become close after Shannow’s disappearance and he had made a special fuss over Eric, which meant he was often invited to eat at the Taybard wagon. Then one night he had proposed to Donna, expecting a refusal and prepared to wait for her to change her mind. Instead she had accepted, kissed him and thanked him for his courtesy.
Few men could have been happier than Con Griffin at that moment. For days afterwards he had walked with her in the evenings, holding hands in the moonlight, until finally Donna herself precipitated the move he longed for. They had walked to a shallow stream and she turned to him and put her hands on his shoulders.
’I am not a fifteen-year-old maiden,’ she said, loosening her dress.
And they had made love on the grass beside the water.
Since then Con Griffin had slept in Donna’s wagon, much to the disgust of old Burke who did not hold with such flippant behaviour. Eric had adjusted well to his new father and seemed relaxed in Griffin’s company. For his part Griffin taught him to rope, and to track, and to name the trees, and which of them grew near water. And they talked as man to man, which pleased Eric greatly.
’What should I call you?’ asked Eric.
’Call me Griff.’
’I cannot call you Father. Not yet.’
’It would be nice if you could, but I will not worry about it.’
’Will you make my mother happy?’
’I hope so. I will try very hard.’
’My father couldn’t.’
’It happens sometimes.’
’And I won’t be cruel to you, Griff.’
’Cruel?’
’I was very cruel to Mr Shannow. And he saved my life. I wish I hadn’t been; he told me he was very lonely and he wanted to be my friend.’
That conversation was in Griffin’s mind now as he stood with Donna. He walked her away from the corpses to the canvas-covered wagon beside their home plot.
’Donna, there is something . . . The riders . . .’
’What? Come on, this is not like you.’
’Shannow is alive.’
’No!’
’I believe that he is. Use your talent - try to see him.’
’No, he’s dead. I don’t want to see him with maggots in his eyes.’
’Please, Donna. Otherwise I’ll never be able to rest, wondering if the Jerusalem Man is hunting me.’
Her head sank down and she closed her eyes. Immediately she saw Shannow, limping through a village. Beside him was an old man, balding, who was smiling and chatting to Shannow.
Donna opened her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘He is alive. Oh, Con!’
’I will. . . of course, release you . . . from . . .’
’Don’t say it. Don’t ever say it! I’m pregnant, Con, and I love you.’
’But you and he . . .’
’He saved me, and Eric. And he was very lonely. I didn’t love him. But I never would have done this to him - truly I wouldn’t.’
’I know.’ He took her in his arms.
’There’s something else, Con. All the people with Jon are to die.’
’I don’t understand.’
’I am not sure that I do. But they are all doomed. I saw skulls floating above all of them, and dark shadows in the distance with horned helmets like those riders there.’
’Today’s drama has affected your talent,’ he assured her. ‘The important thing is that Jon Shannow is alive. And when he comes here he will be looking for you.’
’Con, he will never understand. I think he is a little insane.’
’I shall be ready.’
The following day Shannow rose early, refreshed despite his troubled night. He pulled on his woollen shirt and a thick pullover knitted for him by Curopet. Over this he added his ankle-length leather coat and a pair of woollen gloves. Then he belted on his guns and hefted his saddle over his right shoulder before making his way across the village to the makeshift paddock where the gelding stood. There he rubbed down the horse and saddled him.
The day was bright and clear as Shannow rode from the sleeping village. He steered the horse high into the hills to the north, picking his trail with care on the slippery ground. After an hour he found a different route and returned to the village, where he fed the gelding and removed his saddle. He was cold through, and bone-weary. By the time he dumped his saddle back in the hut, he was ready to drop. Shrugging out of his coat, he picked up the ball of hide and squeezed it two hundred times. Then tossing it aside, he stood. His hand dropped to his pistol and flashed up, the gun leaping to his hand, cocked and ready. He smiled; not so fast as he had been, but already fast enough. The rest would follow.
Curopet tapped at his door and he ushered her in. She had brought a wooden bowl of heated oats and goat’s milk. He thanked her and she bowed.
’I thought you had left us,’ she said softly, her eyes staring at the floor.
’Not yet, Lady. But soon I must.’
’To go to your wife?’
’Yes.’
She smiled and left him and he finished his breakfast and waited for Karitas. The old man was not long in arriving, his sheepskin jerkin covered in snow.
Karitas grinned and moved to the fire. ‘Did you see anything on your ride?’
’Four or five deer to the north-east, and some beautiful country.’
’And how do you feel?’
’Tired, and yet strong.’
’Good. I think you are almost mended, Jon Shannow. I heard someone cry out in the night -I thought it was you.’
’It could have been,’ said Shannow, moving to sit beside the fire. ‘I had a bad dream. I saw men attacking a tent village . . . they were vile.’
They had horned helms?’ asked Karitas, staring intently at Shannow’s face.
’Yes. How could you know?’
’I had the same dream. It is the land, Jon - as I told you, it grants rare powers. That was no dream, you saw the Hellborn in action.’
’Thank the Lord they are not near here!’
’Yes. My little village would be slain. We could not fight them, not even with the Ark weapons.’
’One pistol,’ said Shannow, ‘would not keep away a small Brigand band.’
’There is more than one pistol in the Ark, Jon. I will show you in the Spring.’
’The Hellborn have many riders. There must have been two to three hundred in the attack on the village.’
’Would that they only had three hundred. What we saw was one raiding column and there are more than twenty such. The sexual excesses among the Hellborn mean a plethora of babes and their tribe grows fast. It was always so throughout history: the migration of nations. Overpopulation causes people to move into the lands of their neighbours, bringing war and death. The Hellborn are moving and one day they will be here.’
’I find it hard to believe that the Lord of Hosts can permit such a people,’ said Shannow.
’Read your Bible, Jon. Study the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Egyptians and the Greeks. Even the Romans. And what of the Philistines, the Moabites and the Edomites? Without evil, there is no counterpoint to goodness.’
’Too deep for me, Karitas. I am a simple man.’
’I wish that I was,’ said Karitas with feeling.
For much of the day Shannow chopped firewood, using a long axe with a six-pound head. His back ached, but by dusk he was satisfied that his strength was returning with speed.
That night he dreamt once more of the Hellborn. This time they raided the Carns and the slaughter was terrible to behold, the blue- and yellow-streaked savages caught in a murderous crossfire. Hundreds died and only a few escaped into the snow-covered woods.
At midnight Shannow was awakened by a light tapping at his door. He opened it and saw Curopet standing in the moonlight, a blanket around her slender form.
Shannow stepped aside to allow her in and pushed shut the door. She ran to the fire and added kindling to the coals.
’What is it, Curopet?’
’I am going to die,’ she whispered.
Her face was strained and she was close to tears as Shannow moved to kneel beside her in the firelight.
’Everyone dies,’ said Shannow, at a loss.
Then you have seen it too, Thunder-maker?’
’Seen what?’
’The horned ones attacking our village.’
’No. The Carns have been attacked. Tonight.’
’Yes, the Carns,’ she said dully. ‘I dreamt of that two nights ago. I am to die. No children for Curopet. No man through the long winter nights. We are all to die.’
’Nonsense. The future is not set in stone; we make our own destinies,’ said Shannow, pulling her to him. The blanket slid away from her shoulders as she moved towards him and he saw that she was naked, her body glowing in the dancing light of the blaze.
’Do you promise me that I will live?’ she asked.
’I cannot promise, but I will defend you with my life.’
’You would do that for me?’
’Yes.’
’And I am not your wife?’
’No. But you are close to me, Curopet, and I do not desert my friends in their need.’
Curopet snuggled into him, her breasts pushing against the bare skin of his chest. Shannow closed his eyes and drew back.
’Let me stay?’ she asked and he nodded and stood. She went with him to his blankets and together .they lay entwined. Shannow did not touch her and she slept with her body pressed close to him and her head on his breast. Shannow slept not at all.
In the morning Shannow was summoned with all warriors to the long cabin where Karitas sat on a high chair, the only chair in the village. The warriors - thirty-seven in all, counting Shannow - sat before him.
Karitas looked tired and gaunt. When everyone was seated, he spoke.
’Five of our ESPer women have seen an attack on us by the Hellborn. We cannot run and we cannot hide. All our stores are here. Our lives are here. And we cannot fight, for they have thunder-guns and are many.’ He fell silent and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his head bent and eyes staring at the floor.
’Then we are to die?’ asked a warrior. Shannow glanced at the man; he was stocky and powerful and his eyes glowed fiercely.
’It would appear that way, Shonal. I can think of nothing.’
’How many are they?’ asked Shonal.
’Three hundred.’
’And all with thunder-guns?’
’Yes.’
’Why should they attack us?’ questioned another man.
’It is their way.’
’Could we not send someone to them?’ suggested a third man. ‘Tell them we will be their friends - offer to share our food?’
’It will avail us nothing; they are killers and drinkers of blood. They have wiped out the Carns and we are next.’
’We must find their camp,’ said Shannow, standing and turning to face the men. ‘It is Winter and they must have tents and food stores. We will burn their tents, destroy their stores and kill many. Perhaps then they will be driven back to their homelands until the Spring.’
’And will you lead us, Thunder-maker?’
’Indeed I will,’ promised the Jerusalem Man.
With sombre faces the men left the cabin to prepare their weapons and bid farewell to their wives and children. Shannow remained with Karitas. Thank you,’ said the old man, his head still bowed.
’You owe me no thanks, Karitas.’
’I know you think me a little mad, but I am not stupid, Jon. There is no victory to be gained here. You have made a noble gesture, but my people will still die.’
’Nothing is certain,’ Shannow told him. ‘When I rode the hills I saw a number of shallow caves. Fetch the women and children, and as many stores as they can carry, and take them there. Cover your tracks where you can.’
Karitas looked up. ‘You believe we have a chance?’
’It depends on whether this is an invasion or a raid.’
’That I can tell you. It is the ritual of the Blood Feast, where newly-ordained warriors gain their battle honours.’
’You know a great deal about them, old man.’
’Indeed I do. The man who leads them calls himself Abaddon and I used to know him well.’
’It is a name from the Book,’ said Shannow sharply. ‘An obscenity named in Revelation as the leader of the Devil’s forces.’
’Yes. Well, in those days he was simply Lawrence Welby - a lawyer and a socialite. He organized curious parties, with nubile young women. He was witty, urbane and a Satanist. He followed the teachings of a man called Crowley, who preached, “Do what thou wilt is the whole of the law.” Like me he survived the Fall, and like me he appears to be immortal. He believes he is the Anti-Christ.’