Authors: David Gemmell
Lewis stood and saluted. ‘Thank you, sir, for sharing this knowledge. Will that be all?’
’No. The reason I have taken you in to my confidence is a delicate one. I told you that Shannow must die. In all probability the Zealots will succeed. But Shannow is Rolynd. He may escape. He may return. I want you to find him and kill him, should the Zealots fail.’
Aware that Sarento was studying his reaction Lewis merely nodded, keeping his face blank.
’Can you do this thing?’
’I'll take one of the rifles,’ replied Lewis.
For five days the riders had tried tentative attacks, but now on the sixth their leader went berserk, and the Hellborn mounted their horses and thundered into the pass, through the cross-fire which decimated their ranks and on to the trench where Gambion waited with ten men.
Through the cloud of dust sent up by the pounding hooves of their horses the Hellborn bore down on the waiting men.
’Fire!’ screamed Gambion and a ragged volley smashed into the first line of riders, bringing down men and horses. A second volley hammered into the horsemen; then Gambion’s men broke and ran for the second trench.
Above them, with three riflemen, Janus cursed. He stood and emptied his rifle into the surging ranks of the enemy. Only Gambion remained in the first trench; his rifle empty, he tugged his pistols clear and shot a man from the saddle. Now the dust swirled above him. A horse leapt over him, then a second. He fired blindly into the dust. A hoof clipped the top of his skull and he fell as shots hammered into the dirt beside him.
Janus screamed at the running men to take up positions and they responded, dropping down beside the three men in the second trench. Shells tore once more into the Hellborn and they broke and ran.
’After them!’ shouted Janus, sweeping up a rifle and leaping the earthworks. Some seven men followed him, the rest hunkered down behind the relative safety of the earthworks. Janus knew the next few moments would be crucial in the battle. If they did not push the Hellborn outside into the canyon, they would spread up on to the hillside and outflank the defenders. He ran to the first trench and waited for his men to join him.
Together!’ he shouted. ‘Volley fire. But only at my signal.’
The men settled their rifles to their shoulders. ‘Now!’ A volley shrieked through the dust clouds.
’Again!’ Three times more they fired into the fleeing Hellborn. Janus led his men further into the pass, aware that their position was perilous should the Hellborn turn, but in the billowing dust the enemy had no idea how many men pursued them. At last Janus stood in the mouth of the pass itself and watched the Hellborn galloping out of range.
’Take up positions,’ he ordered the men around him.
’I'm out of bullets,’ a man told him.
’I've only got two rounds left,’ said another.
’Strip the dead,’ said Janus. ‘But be careful - some of them may only be wounded.’
They gathered what ammunition they could from the fallen riders and returned to their positions. Janus sprinted back to the first trench where Gambion was sitting up holding his head.
’You ought to be dead,’ Janus told him and Gambion looked up at the blond youngster and grinned broadly.
’It’ll take more than a kick from a horse.’
’We are almost out of ammunition - we can’t hold much longer, Ephram.’
’We have to.’
’Be reasonable, man. When the bullets are gone, then so are we.’
’We’ve held this long, and we’ve made them pay. Just four more days.’
’What do you want us to do? Throw rocks at them?’
’Whatever it takes.’
’There are only twenty-two men left, Ephram.’
’But we’ve taken over a hundred of them bastards.’
Janus gave up and ran back to the pass, climbing high on to the ridge and shielding his eyes, trying to see the enemy. They had dismounted and were seated in a circle around two officers. Janus wished he had a long-glass to study the situation more closely. It seemed to him that one of the officers had a pistol in his hand and that the barrel was in his mouth. The crack of the pistol drifted to him and he watched the officer topple sideways.
Gambion joined him. ‘What’s happening out there?’
’One of their leaders has just killed himself.’
’Good for him!’
’What kind of people are they, Ephram?’
’They ain’t like us, that’s for sure. By the way, I done a count and we’ve roughly fifteen shells per man. Good enough for a couple more attacks.’
Janus chuckled. ‘Your head’s bleeding,’ he said.
’It’ll stop. You think they’ll come in again today?’
’Yes. One more charge. I think we should take a chance on stopping it dead.’
’How?’
’Line everyone across the pass and hit them with ten volleys.’
’If they break through, there’ll be nothing to back us.’
’It’s up to you, Ephram.’
Gambion swore. ‘I’ll buy it. Damn, but I never thought to see the day when a boy would give me orders.’
’And a child shall lead them,’ said Janus.
’What?’
’It’s from the Bible, Ephram. Don’t you ever read it?’
’I don’t read - but I’ll take your word for it.’
’Do it fast. I think they’re coming in again.’
Gambion and Janus slid down the slope, calling the men to them. They came reluctantly for the most part and gathered in a ragged line.
’You’d better stand this time, by God!’ yelled Gambion.
The riders came on at full gallop. The guns of the defenders bellowed, echoing up into the pass, and the rolling thunder of the volleys drowned the sound of galloping hooves.
The pass was black with cordite smoke and as it cleared Gambion watched the last of the Hellborn cantering away out of range. Fewer than fifty men remained of the three hundred who launched the attack on the first day, while seven defenders were dead and two wounded.
’We’d better gather some ammunition,’ said Janus. ‘Send ten men to strip the bodies.’
Gambion did so, while the other defenders kept a wary eye on the retreating riders.
’We did well today,’ said Gambion. ‘You believe in God now?’
Janus cursed. It was the first time Gambion had heard him swear.
’What is it?’
Janus pointed to where, on the far side of the valley, a column of riders could be seen.
’Shit!’ hissed Gambion. ‘How many?’
’I don’t know. Five hundred maybe.’
The scavengers returned with sacks of bullets and some extra pistols. One of them moved alongside Gambion.
They didn’t have more than five shells apiece. Ain’t enough to hold that bunch.’
’We’ll see.’
’Well I ain’t staying,’ said the man. ‘I done my share.’
’We’ve all done our share, Isaac. You want to run out on God?’
’Run out on him? He ain’t doing us no favours here, is he? There must be four, five hundred more of them sons of bitches and we ain’t even got enough shells for them all.’
’He’s right, Ephram,’ said Janus. ‘Send a rider to Cade -tell him he’s got less than a day and he’d better speed up.’
’I'll go,’ said Isaac, ‘and glad to be out of it.’
The two wounded men were carried back into the pass and Janus touched Gambion’s arm. ‘We ought to move back, Ephram. We can’t do any good here.’
’We can thin them a little.’
’They can afford to lose more than we can.’
’You want to run, then run!’ snarled Gambion. ‘I’m staying.’
’Here they come!’ yelled a defender, pumping a shell into the breech. Gambion wiped sweat from his eyes and peered out into the canyon. Then blinked and squinted into the sunlight.
’Hold your fire!’ he shouted. The lead rider came closer and Gambion waved, a broad smile breaking out on his face.
’Jesus,’ whispered Isaac. They’re Southerners!’
The troop cantered past the bodies of the Hellborn and the leader drew rein before Gambion. He was a short, stocky man with a red moustache.
’Well, Gambion, I swore to hang you and now I’m going to have to fight alongside you. There’s no justice left in the world!’
’I never thought to be pleased to see you, Simmonds, but I could kiss your boots.’
The man stepped down from the saddle. ‘We’ve had refugees streaming south for a while now, telling tales like a sane man couldn’t believe. Do these bastards really worship the Devil and drink blood?’
’They do and more,’ said Gambion.
’Where are they from?’
’The Plague Lands,’ Gambion replied, as if that explained everything.
’Is it true that Cade’s become a prophet?’
’As true as I’m standing here. You still carrying muskets?’
’It’s all we’ve got.’
’Not any more. We didn’t have a chance to collect all the weapons from them Hellborn. You help yourself. They carry repeating rifles - damn good weapons. Ten shot some of them. The others is eight.’
Simmonds sent some of his men to search the dead, while the rest rode back into the pass to make camp. He himself wandered up the ridge with Gambion and Janus.
’This your boy?’ he asked.
’No, this is our general. And don’t make jokes, Simmonds - he’s done us proud the last six days.’
’You shaving yet, son?’
’No, sir, but I’m two inches taller than you so I guess that makes us even.’
Simmonds’ eyebrows raised. ‘You a Brigand?’
’No. My father was a farmer and the Hellborn killed him.’
The world’s changing too fast for my liking,’ said Simmonds. ‘Repeating rifles, boy generals, Brigand prophets and Devil worshippers from the Plague Lands! I’m too old for this.’
’Can we leave a hundred of your men here?’ asked Gambion. Then I’ll take you to Cade.’
’Sure. Is your general staying?’
’He is,’ said Janus. ‘For four more days. Then we make for Sweetwater.’
’All right. What happened to your head, Gambion?’
’Horse kicked it.’
’I expect you had to shoot the horse,’ said Simmonds.
Shannow and Batik were camped in a shaded spot near a waterfall when Ruth appeared. Batik dropped his mug of water and leapt backwards, tripping over a rock and sprawling beside the fire. Shannow smiled.
’You must excuse my friend, Ruth. He is very nervous these days.’
’How are you, Batik?’ she asked.
’Well, Lady. Yourself?’
She seemed older than when they had last seen her; dark rings circled her eyes and her cheeks were sunken. Her iron-grey hair had lost its sheen and the eyes themselves were listless.
’I am as you see me,’ she said softly.
’Are you truly here with us?’ asked Shannow.
’I am here and there,’ she answered.
’Can you eat? Drink? If you can, you are welcome to share what we have.’
She shook her head and remained silent. Shannow was at a loss and moved to the fire. Wrapping his hand in a cloth he lifted the small copper pot from the flames and mixed some herbs into the water; then he stirred the tea with a stick before pouring it into a mug. Batik spread his blankets and removed his boots. Ruth remained statue-still, regarding them both.
’How goes your quest?’ she asked and Shannow shrugged, aware that her question was merely the precursor of heavier words. ‘What did you make of the Guardians?’
’I liked Archer. Lewis seemed a good man.’
’Who leads them?’ she asked.
’You do not know?’
’A long time ago Karitas urged me to respect their privacy.’
’It is a man called Sarento.’
’Did you like him?’
’An odd question, Ruth. What does it matter?’
’It matters, Mr Shannow. For you are a man of Talent. You are a Sensitive and you have not stayed alive this long merely by being skilful with weapons. You have a knack of being in the right place at the right time. You judge men too shrewdly. In a way, your powers in this respect are greater than mine. For mine have been cultivated over the centuries while yours are latent, unchannelled. Did you like him?’
’No.’
’Did you judge him to be … Ungodly?’
’He reminded me of Abaddon - the same arrogance.’
’And he offered you weapons?’
’Yes.’
’Why did you refuse?’
’War is a vile game, Ruth, and the innocent die along with the guilty. I want nothing to do with the war itself; my only interest is in avenging Donna.’
’Avenging? She is not dead yet.’
Shannow sat very still. ‘Truly?’
’Would I lie?’
’No. Can I reach her before they kill her?’
’No, Mr Shannow, but I can.’
’Will you?’
’I am not sure. Something has been troubling me for some time now, and yesterday I made a discovery that frightened me - that rocked all my long-built security. The Hellborn are not the enemy. We are not dealing with an evil race; they are pawns in a game I cannot understand.’
’Are you saying that the Hellborn are not at war?’ asked Shannow, That they are not butchering their way across the continent?’
’Of course not. But why are they doing it?’
’To conquer,’ answered Batik. ‘Why else?’
’I thought that before yesterday - but believe me, my friends, I have been very stupid. You are a Bible-reading man, Mr Shannow, and you have read of possession. Demons? The Hellborn are possessed and the power emanates from Abaddon. He is the centre, but even he does not understand the source of his power; he is being used.’
’By the Devil?’ said Shannow.
’No… or perhaps yes, in another form. There is a force that I have traced which focuses on Abaddon and is dispersed by him throughout the Hellborn lands, touching the Blood Stone of every man, woman and child. Quite simply it is hatred, lust, greed. It covers the land like an invisible fog and it travels with his armies, bloated like a great slug.’
’It will be gone then when I kill him,’ said Shannow.
That is not the point, Mr Shannow. The source is where the evil lies . . . and I have traced that source, and the power there is incredible.’
’You speak of the Guardians,’ said Shannow.
’Indeed I do.’
’You say you traced the source?’ asked Batik.
’It is a giant stone. It feeds, if that is the word, on soul power - ESPer talents, call them what you will.’
’Where is this Stone?’ said Shannow.
’It is lodged beneath the mountain of the Ark and from there it draws power from every Blood Stone in the Hellborn empire. It must be destroyed, Mr Shannow; its power must be ended. Or else a new dark age will fall upon the world, if not the destruction of the world itself.’
’Why do you come to me? I cannot defeat magic with a pistol.’
’Nor can I approach the Stone. It registers my power. But there is a way. The Atlanteans found a method of harnessing the energies of their Stones, trapping the power. The secret is in the monolith circles around the altars. They built the standing Stones as conduits of power which transmit and receive the energy. The Mother Stone was so powerful that special monoliths were constructed. Inset into each structure is a spool of golden wire. If the conduits are linked by gold, no energy can pass to the Stone at the centre. It will become drained, and eventually useless.’