Authors: David Gemmell
’No, I was dreaming. Such strange dreams. What happened out there?’
The Hellborn killed young Carver - we found that out.’
’We heard shots.’
’Yes. None of us was hurt.’
Donna poured cold water into a large copper kettle and hung it over the fire.
’You are troubled?’ she asked.
’I cannot see a way out of the danger. I feel like a rabbit in a snare, waiting for the hunter.’
Donna giggled suddenly and Griffin looked at her face in the firelight. She seemed younger and altogether too beautiful.
’Why do you laugh?’
’I never knew a man less like a rabbit. You remind me of a bear - a great big, soft brown bear.’
He chuckled and they sat in silence for several minutes. Donna prepared some herb tea, and as they sipped it before the fire the problems of the Heilborn seemed far away. ‘How many of them are there?’ asked Donna suddenly. The Hellborn? I don’t know. Jacob tried to track them on the first night, but they spotted him and he rode away.’ Then how can you plan against them? You don’t know the extent of the problem.’
’Damn!’ said Griffin softly, and the weight lifted from his mind. ‘Zedeki said there were thousands and I believed him. But that doesn’t mean they are all here. You are right, Donna, and I have been a fool.’ Griffin tugged on his boots, lifted her to her feet and kissed her. ‘Where are you going?’
’We came back separately in case the watchers remain at night. Jacob should be home by now and I need to see him.’ Slipping on his dark jacket, he stepped out into the night and crossed the open ground to Madden’s cabin. The windows were shuttered, but Griffin could see a gleam of golden light through the centre of the shutters and he tapped at the door.
The tall, bearded Madden opened it within seconds. ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.
’Yes. Sorry to bother you so late,’ said Griffin, once more adopting the slow, ponderous method of speech his people expected. ‘But I think it’s time to consider our plans.’
’Come in,’ said Madden. The room was less spacious than Griffin’s, but the layout was similar. A large table with bench seats was set in the centre of the room, and to the right was a stone hearth and two heavy chairs, ornately carved. The two men sat down and Griffin leaned forward. ‘Jacob, I need to know how many Hellborn are close to us. It would also be a help to know something of the Jand and the situation of their camp and so on.’ ‘You want me to scout?’
Griffin hesitated. Both men knew the dangers involved in such an enterprise, and Griffin was acutely aware he was asking Jacob Madden to put his life at risk.
’Yes,’ he said. ‘It is important. Note everything they do, what kind of discipline they are under: everything.’
Madden nodded. ‘Who will do the work on my fields?’
’I'll see that it’s done.’
’And my family?’
Griffin understood the unspoken question. ‘Like my own, Jacob. I’ll look after them.’
’All right.’
There’s something else. How many guns did we take?’
Madden thought for a while. Thirty-three rifles, twenty-seven - no, twenty-eight - pistols.’
’I'll need to know how much ammunition we gathered, but I can check that tomorrow.’
’You won’t find much more than twenty shells per weapon.’
’No. Take care, Jacob.’
’You can count on that. I’ll leave tonight.’
’Good man.’ Griffin stood and left the cabin. The moon was partially obscured by cloud and he tripped over one of the defensive logs, bruising his shin. He continued on, passing Ethan Peacock’s ramshackle cabin; the little scholar was involved in a heated debate with Aaron Phelps. Griffin grinned; no matter what the perils, some things never changed.
Back at his own home he found Donna still sitting by the fire, staring vacantly into the flames.
’You should get some sleep,’ he said, but she did not hear him. ‘Donna?’ He knelt beside her. Her eyes were wide open, the pupils huge, despite the bright firelight. He touched her shoulder, but she did not respond. Not knowing what to do he remained where he was, gently holding her. After a while she sighed and her head sagged forward. He caught her and lifted her to a chair; her eyes fluttered, then focused.
’Oh, hello Con,’ she said sleepily.
’Were you dreaming?’
’I… I don’t know. Strange.’
Tell me.’
Thirsty,’ she said, leaning back her head and closing her eyes. He poured her a mug of water, and she sipped it for several seconds. ‘Ever since we came here,’ she said, ‘I have had the strangest dreams. They grow more powerful with every day that passes and now I don’t know if they are dreams at all. I just drift into them.’
Tell me,’ he repeated.
She sat up and finished the water.
’Well, tonight I saw Jon Shannow sitting on a mountainside with a Hellborn. They were talking, but the words blurred. Then I saw Jon draw his gun - and there was a bear. But then I seemed to tumble away to a huge building of stone. There were many Hellborn there and at the centre was a man, tall and handsome. He saw me and smoke billowed from him and he became a monster, and he pursued me. Then I flew in terror, and someone came to me, and told me not to worry. It was a little man - the man I saw with Jon at the village when he was wounded. His name is Karitas. It is an ancient name which once meant Love, he told me, and the smoke monster could not find us. I drifted then and I saw a great golden ship, but there was no sea. The ship was upon a mountain, and Karitas laughed and said it was the Ark. Then all my dreams tumbled on themselves and I saw the Hellborn in their thousands riding south into River vale, and Ash Burry nailed to a tree. It was terrible.’
’Is that all you said?’ asked Griffin.
’Almost. I saw Jacob creeping through bushes near some tents, but then I was inside the tent and there were six men seated in a circle - and they knew Jacob was coming, and they were waiting for him.’ ‘It couldn’t have been Jacob - he has only just left.’ Then you must stop him, Con. Those men, they were not like the other Hellborn. They were evil, so terribly evil!’ Griffin ran outside across the open ground, but there was no light from within Madden’s cabin. Griffin circled the house to the paddock, but Madden’s horse was gone. He could feel panic rising in him, and quelled it savagely. Returning to Donna, he sat beside her and took her hands in his. ‘You told me you could always see those close to you, wherever they are. Can you see Jacob now?’
She closed her eyes.
Her mind misted, and Jon Shannow’s face leapt to her.
He was riding the steeldust gelding along a mountain path which wound down towards a deep valley dotted with lakes. By the sides of the lakes hundreds of thousands of birds splashed in the water, or soared in their legions into the sky. Behind Shannow rode a Hellborn rider with a black forked beard, and behind him a dark-haired youngster of perhaps fifteen years.
Donna was about to return when she felt the chill of terror touch her soul. She rose above the scene, floating high above the trees, and then she saw them less than a quarter mile behind Shannow - some thirty men riding tall dark horses. The riders wore black cloaks and helms which covered their faces and they were closing fast. The sky darkened, and Donna found herself enveloped in cloud that thickened and solidified into leather wings which closed about her.
She screamed and tried to break free, but a soft, almost gentle voice whispered in her ear.
’You are mine, Donna Taybard, to take when I will.’
The wings opened and she fled like a frightened sparrow, jerking upright in the chair.
’Did you see Jacob?’ asked Griffin.
’No,’ she whispered. ‘I saw the Devil and Jon Shannow.’
Selah cantered alongside Shannow and pointed down into the valley, where a cluster of buildings was ranged at the edge of a narrow river. Batik came alongside.
’I must have been dreaming,’ said Shannow. ‘I didn’t notice them.’
Batik looked troubled. ‘I am sure I scanned the valley. I could not have missed them.’
Shannow tugged the gelding and started down the slope, but they had not gone more than a hundred yards when they heard the sound of galloping hooves. Dismounting, Shannow led the gelding behind a screen of trees and thick bushes. Batik and Selah followed him. Above they watched the black-cloaked Hellborn riders thunder by them.
They should have seen where we cut from the path,’ mused Batik. ‘Curious.’
’How many did you count?’ asked Shannow.
’I did not need to count. There are six sections and that makes thirty-six enemies, skilled beyond our means to defeat them.’
Shannow did not reply, but swung himself into the saddle and headed the gelding down the slope. The buildings were of seasoned timber, bleached almost white, and beyond them was a field where dairy cattle grazed. Shannow rode into the central square and dismounted.
’Where are the people?’ asked Batik, joining him.
Shannow removed his wide-brimmed hat and hung it on the pommel of his saddle. The sun was dipping behind the hills to the west, and he was tired. There were a dozen steps leading to a double door in the building facing them and Shannow walked towards them. As he approached, the door opened and an elderly woman in white stepped out and bowed low. Her hair was short and iron-grey, and her eyes were blue - so deep they were almost violet.
’Welcome,’ she said.
At that moment the trio heard the sound of hoofbeats and swung to see the Hellborn riding down from the hills. Shannow’s hands dropped to his guns, but the woman spoke, her voice ringing with authority.
’Leave your weapons where they are, and wait.’
Shannow froze. The riders swept past the buildings looking neither right nor left. The Jerusalem Man watched them until they were far away, heading north.
He swung to the woman, but before he could speak she said, ‘Join us, Mr Shannow, for our evening meal.’ She turned and vanished into the building.
Batik approached him. ‘I have to tell you, Shannow, that I do not like this place.’
’It is beautiful here,’ said Selah. ‘Can you not feel it? The harmony. There is no fear here.’
’Yes, there is,’ muttered Batik. ‘It’s all in here,’ he said, tapping his chest. ‘Why did they ride on?’
’They did not see us,’ said Shannow.
’Nonsense, they couldn’t have missed us.’
’Just as we couldn’t have missed these buildings?’
’That makes it worse, Shannow, not better.’
Shannow walked up the stairs and into the building, Batik behind him. He found himself in a small room, softly lit by white candles. A tiny round table had been set with two places and at the table was the grey-haired woman. Shannow turned, but Batik was not with him. Nor Selah.
’Sit down, Mr Shannow, and eat.’
’Where are my friends?’
’Enjoying a meal. Be at ease; there is no danger here.’
Shannow’s guns felt uncomfortable and he removed the belt and laid them on the floor beside him. He looked at his hands and noticed the dirt ingrained in them.
’You may refresh yourself in the next room,’ said the woman. Shannow smiled his thanks and opened the oval door he had not noticed beyond the table. Inside was a metal bath, filled with warm water, delicately scented. He removed his clothes and climbed in. Clean at last, he rose from the bath to find his clothes gone and in their place a white woollen shirt and grey trousers. He felt no anxiety over the disappearance of his belongings and dressed in the garments he found, which fitted perfectly.
The woman sat where he had left her and he joined her. The food was plain, seasoned vegetables and fresh fruit, and the clear water tasted like wine.
They ate in silence until at last the woman rose and beckoned Shannow to join her in another room. Shannow followed into a windowless study where two deep leather chairs were drawn up against a round glass-topped table, upon which sat two cups of scented tea.
Shannow waited for the woman to seat herself, then sat back in a chair and stared at the walls of the room. They seemed to be of stone, yet were soft in appearance, like doth. Upon the walls were paintings - mostly of animals, deer and horses, grazing beneath mountains topped with snow.
’You have journeyed far, Mr Shannow. And you are weary.’
’Indeed I am, Lady.’
’And do you ride towards Jerusalem, or away from her?’
’I do not know.’
’You did your best for Karitas. Feel no grief.’
’You knew him?’
’I did indeed. An obstinate man, but a kindly soul none the less.’
’He saved my life. I could not return the debt.’
’He would not have seen it as a debt, Mr Shannow. For him, as for us, life is not a question of balances earned and debited. How do you feel about Donna Taybard?’
’I am angry… was angry. It is hard to feel anger here.’
’It is not hard, Mr Shannow; it is impossible.’
’What is this place?’
’This is Sanctuary. There is no evil here.’
’How is this achieved?’
’By doing nothing, Mr Shannow.’
’But there is a power here … an awesome power.’
’Indeed, and there is a riddle in that for those with eyes to see and ears to hear.’
’Who are you? What are you?’
’I am Ruth.’
’Are you an angel?’
She smiled then. ‘No, Mr Shannow, I am a woman.’
’I am sorry that I do not understand. I feel it is important.’
’You are right in that, but rest now. We will talk tomorrow.’
She rose and left him. He heard the door close and stood. A bed lay by the far wall and he lay upon it and slept without dreams.
Batik followed Shannow into the building and found himself in a round room, painted in soft shades of red. On the walls were weapons of every kind, artistically displayed - bows, spears, pistols and rifles, swords and daggers, each of exquisite workmanship.
The grey-haired woman sat at an oval table upon which was a joint of red meat, charred on the outside but raw at the centre. Batik moved to the table and picked up a silver carving knife.
’Where is Shannow?’ he asked, carving thick slices of the succulent meat.