CHAPTER EIGHT

Samuel Archer stood in the doorway as the two warriors dragged the corpses out into the open, dumping them by a low wall. There was no dignity in death, he realized, seeing that the dead had fouled themselves and the stench carried even through the rain.

There were some amongst the Guardians who were considered soldiers, men of action. Yet none that Archer could bring to mind could match that chilling quality possessed by the Jerusalem Man. How he had heard the approach of the assassins amid a storm baffled Archer. And without the Stone to mask him with invisibility, Archer himself would have died sitting at the fire.

Neither Shannow nor Batik had mentioned the plume of red smoke, which Archer had been quite proud of- a distraction for the Zealots, giving the warriors time to react. He decided he would mention it himself when the opportunity arose.

The palace hall smelt of cordite and death and Archer wandered up the long steps to the balcony.

There was a pool of blood by the rail, and the black man recalled how Batik had walked here earlier and heaved the body to the stones below where it had landed with a crunching thud.

Shannow came in out of the rain and removed his leather coat. He knelt for a few seconds at the fire, warming his hands, then took his Bible from his saddlebag.

'Clues as to the whereabouts of Jerusalem?' asked Archer, sitting beside him.

'No, I find reading eases my mind.' He shut the Bible. 'I saw Pendarric in a dream last night. He said he caused the world to drown by using Blood Stones and he warned me that it is about to happen again.'

Through the Hellborn?'

'Yes, I believe so. Do you have anything in the Ark that could help me bring down Abaddon?'

'It's not my field, Mr Shannow. I am a researcher into things arcane. But there are weapons there.'

'And knowledge?'

'Indeed there is knowledge.'

'I will ride with you, Archer. Now leave me to read in peace.'

Archer wandered to the door and looked out into the rain. Batik joined him.

'You can't talk to him when the dark moods are upon him, and for a religious man he is in no hurry to share his God.'

'He has much on his mind, Batik.'

'I don't care about that, just so long as he hears the killers in the night. He's a remarkable man. All my life I have been taught to fear the Zealots as the greatest warriors hi the world, but they are like children compared with him.'

'Will you stay with him?'

'For a little while, Archer. I have no intention of returning to Babylon and following Shannow as he charges the palace single-handed.'

'A strange attitude for a friend to take?'


'We are not friends, Archer. He has no friends — he does not need friends. Look at him, sitting there like a rock. I am a warrior, yet I am still shaking over the attack. I wonder how many other enemies are closing on us as we speak. Him? He reads his Bible.'

'But if he needed you, would you go?'

'No. What do I care if Abaddon conquers the world? I made one mistake, Archer, when I tried to save my sister. Otherwise I would probably now command a company and be invading the southlands myself.'

'You think he will succeed alone?'

'I don't know. But I tell you this — I would not want him hunting me, even if I sat in a fortress surrounded by guards. There is something inhuman about him; he is unable to recognize impossible odds. You should have seen him when the Zealots attacked just now — he turned and trained his guns on the rear door long before the other three came in. He knew they were coming, but all I could hear was gunfire and all I could see were the men before me. If I was Abaddon, I would not be sleeping well.'

'He does not know Shannow as you do.'

'No, but he will be counting the bodies.'

Archer glanced back. Shannow was no longer reading; his head was on his saddle, his blankets drawn around him, but his right arm was uncovered.

And in his hand was a pistol.

'Fine way to sleep,' said Batik. 'Whatever you do, don't make a sudden noise in the night!'


Shannow was awake and the words of the two men carried to him like whispers on the wind.

How little Batik understood him. But then why should he? Shannow had long since learned that in loneliness there is strength. A man who needs to rely on others leaves a gap in his defences. A lonely man sits within walls.

A need for friends? No man could have it all, Shannow knew. It was all a question of balance and Nature was always miserly with gifts. A long time ago, Shannow had known a runner. To maintain his strength, the man forsook all the foods he desired and trained daily. It was so with Shannow the hunter. Alone he was a rock, relying on nothing and no one to defend his back.

For a while he had tasted the other life with Donna. And it was good. .

Now he was back where he belonged.

And Jerusalem would have to wait.

He heard his companions settle in their blankets, then sat up.

'You think it advisable that we all sleep?' he asked Batik.

'You are suggesting that I stand watch?'

'Better than waking up dead.'

‘I’ll not argue with that.'

Shannow closed his eyes once more and fell into a dreamless sleep, waking as Batik crept towards him three hours later.


'I swear you could hear an ant break wind,' said Batik. '""It's all quiet out there.'

Shannow sat up and stretched, then took his place by the door. The night was still and the rain had passed. He walked from the palace, scanning deserted buildings which gleamed in the moonlight. In the distance he heard the coughing roar of a hunting lion and the far-off howl of a mountain wolf.

The whisper of leather on stone saw him swivel, his hand sweeping up and pistol cocked. Archer spread his hands in alarm.

'It is only me,' he whispered. 'I couldn't sleep.'

Shannow eased the hammer into place and shook his head. 'You are a fool, Archer. The difference between life and death for you just then was too small to be measured.'

'I apologize,' said Archer, 'though I don't know why. You were in no danger.'

'No, that is not true. I once killed someone who just happened to be behind me at the wrong moment. It is not something I wish to do again. But understand this — had you been a Zealot, that fraction of hesitation would have killed me. And the next time I hear a noise, I might just wonder if it is you being stupid or an enemy coming closer. Then I might die. You understand that?'

'No need to labour the point, Mr Shannow. I shall never again approach you without warning.'

Shannow sat back on a low wall and sheathed his pistol. He grinned suddenly, his face becoming boyish. 'Forgive me, Archer, that was terribly pompous. I am on edge but it will pass. How long will it take us to reach the Ark?'

Two days. Three. You can relax there — and I'll show you a library that is not conjured from air.'

'Will it show me the way to Jerusalem?'

'Who knows?' replied Archer. 'I can certainly show you images of the Jerusalem that once was.

Then at least you'll know it when you see it — that is, if God used the same architect.'

A flash of annoyance darkened Shannow's features, but he forced it to pass. 'I expect that he did, Mr Archer.' His eyes swept the buildings and the land to the south and east.

'You think there are more of them out there?' asked the Guardian.

'Of course. We have been lucky this far. Their arrogance has betrayed them, but I think they will be more careful now.'

'I wish I had not lectured Batik about his Stone. You have no idea how much I miss mine; I feel like a-child in the dark.'

There is a positive side to fear,' said Shannow. 'It sharpens the senses, keeps you alert.'

'I think you rather enjoy the danger.'

'Do not be taken in by appearances. I am not inhuman, as Batik thinks. I too shook after the attack. That's why I read my Bible — to take my mind from the fury and the fear. Now get some sleep, Mr Archer, and be assured that nothing will disturb your slumber. If you like, you can borrow one of my spare pistols.'

'No, thank you. I don't believe I could ever kill a man.'

'I wish more people felt like you. Good night.'


Soon after dawn the three men saddled their mounts and left the city, heading north-west. To the east of them a pride of lions was slumbering beneath a gnarled oak. Nearby the carcass of a buffalo was gathering flies. The lions were content and sleepy.

Suddenly the leader, a great beast with a red-gold mane, jerked as if stung. Then he stood and turned towards the west and five other young males rose with him.

In the distance three horsemen were riding slowly towards the mountains.

The six lions padded silently after them.


Abaddon stood on the tower ramparts above his palace and stared out over the city below him, listening to the steady rhythmic pounding of the weapons factory machines and watching the thick black smoke belching from the three mud brick-stacks above it. Dressed in a black robe embroidered with a golden dragon, Abaddon felt almost at peace here above the nation he had cultivated for so long.

Only one nagging doubt assailed his peace of mind.

The High Priest, Achnazzar, approached, bowing low.

They have located Shannow, sire, and the renegade Batik. They are travelling with a Guardian,'

said the hawknosed priest, his bald head shining with sweat.

'I know this,' said Abaddon.

'Do you wish them all dead?'

'It is necessary.'

'You have said, sire, that we should leave the Guardians be.'

'I know what I have said, Achnazzar.'

'Very well, sire. It will be as you command.'

'It was you, priest, who brought me the first word on Shannow; you said he was a danger. He was to have been killed in Rivervale, but instead he killed our man there. He was to have died at the camp of Karitas — but no, he led a raid which saw scores of our young men butchered as they slept. And how many Zealots has he slain? No, don't bother me with the arithmetic. But tell me this: if I cannot rely on you to kill one man, how can I rely on you to build me an empire?'

'Lord,' said Achnazzar, falling to his knees, 'you can rely on me to death and beyond. I am your slave.'

'I have many slaves, priest. What I need from you is results.'

'You shall have them, sire. I promise on my life.'

'Indeed you do,' whispered Abaddon.

Achnazzar blanched and backed away from the ferocious gleam in Abaddon's grey eyes. 'It will be done, sire.'

'And we need Donna Taybard on the High Altar on Walpurnacht Eve. Have you re-checked the star charts?'

'I have, sire.'


'And are the results the same?'

'Yes, sire. Even more promising, in fact.'

There must be no error with her — she must not be harmed in any way until that night. The power contained in her must be harnessed for the Hellborn.'

'It will be, sire.'

'So far I have heard many promises.'

The army is sweeping south and there is little resistance.'

'You hesitated on the word "little",' noted Abaddon.

'It seems that twenty of our men were ambushed near the Yeager mountains. But a punitive force has been despatched to deal with the attackers.'

'Who were they?'

'A Brigand named Daniel Cade. But he is not a problem, sire, I assure you.'

'Find out all you can about the man. He intrigues me.'


Daniel Cade looked down at the gathering of men and women on the mountainside below him. At the last count there were six hundred and seventy refugees, including eighty-four children. Cade had brushed back his hair and cleaned his black frock-coat with the wide leather lapels. Leaning on a handsomely carved stick, he cast his eyes over the crowd. He could see suspicion on many faces, blank open hatred on others.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

'You all know me,' he said, his voice deep, clear and resonant in the mountain air. 'Daniel Cade.

Cade the Brigand. Cade the Killer. Cade the Thief. Many of you have cause to hate me. And I don't blame you I have been an evil man.'

'You still are, Cade,' shouted a voice from the crowd. 'So get on with it! What do you want from us?'

'Nothing. I want you to be safe.'

'What is it going to cost us?' asked another man.

'Nothing. Let me speak, and then I will answer all your questions. Ten days ago, something happened to change my life. I was on that mountain yonder, just short of the snow-Line, when a voice came to me out of the sky and a bright light struck my eyes, blinding me. "Cade," it said,

"you are an evil man, and you deserve death."'

'It was damned right about that!' came the shout.

'Indeed it was,' agreed Cade. 'I don't mind admitting that I lay there on that mountain begging for life. I knew it was God talking to me, and I knew I was done for. All the evil deeds came flooding back to me and I wept for the trouble I'd caused. But then he says to me, "Cade, the hour has come for your redemption. My people, whom you've sore beset, have come upon tribulation. And a people of the Devil have come to the borders like angry locusts."

'"I can't do nothing, God," I said. "I can't fight armies."


Then he says, "I took the people of Israel from out of Egypt against the power of the Pharaoh. I took Joshua and gave him the Promised Land. I took David and gave him Goliath. To you I will give the Hellborn."

' "I can't do it," I said. "Take my life. End it here."

'But he refused. "Save my lambs," he told me. "Bring them here to the Yeager mountains. Suffer the little ones to come unto safety."

'And then the blindness lifted from my eyes, and I said to him, "But all these people hate me.

They'll kill me."

'And he said, "They hate you with good reason. When I have led you to conquer the Hellborn, you will make amends to all the people you have made to suffer."

'I stood up then and I asked him how we could beat the Hellborn. And his voice came down — and I'll never forget it to my dying day — and said, "With their own weapons ye shall strike them down." And he told me that there was a convoy of wagons to the north, and I sent Gambion and forty men. And they captured that convoy and brought it here. And do you know what it contains? Rifles and pistols and bullets and powder. Two hundred weapons!

'And they are yours. For nothing. I ask nothing — only that you allow me to obey my God and lead you against the spawn of Satan.'

Cade waved Gambion forward and the huge man shuffled to the front of the crowd carrying several rifles. These he passed to the men in the front line.

A young farmer Cade recognized, but could not name, took a rifle and asked Gambion how to cock it. The bearded Brigand showed him and the farmer swung the rifle on Cade, his eyes burning with anger.

'Give me one good reason, Cade, why I shouldn't kill you? And don't bother with talk of God, because I ain't a believer.'

'There's no reason, brother,' said Cade. 'I am a man who deserves death and I'll not complain.'

For several seconds Cade ceased to breathe., but he stood his ground. The man handed the rifle to Gambion. 'I don't know about you, Cade, but it seems to me that any man so unafraid of dying ought to be sincere. But if you ain't. .'

Trust in the Lord, brother. You'll have no reason to doubt my sincerity. And here's the proof: The Lord came to me yesterday and said: "Three hundred riders are bearing down on your mountains, Cade, but I will deliver them into your hands." How many of you will come with me to destroy the Devil's people?'

The air came alive with waving arms and a roaring cry echoed in the mountains.

Cade limped away to where Lisa sat with a canteen of water. She wiped his face with a towel and was surprised to see the sweat on his features.

'You look like you've been through Hell,' she said, kissing his cheek.

'You don't know the half of it. When that boy pointed the rifle, I thought it was all over. But I got them, Lisa. By God, I got them!'

'I wish you hadn't lied about God,' said Lisa. 'It frightens me.'


There's nothing to be frightened of, girl. Who's to say? Maybe God did come to me. Maybe it was his idea that I should tackle the Hellborn. And even if it wasn't, I'm sure he won't mind me smiting the bastards hip and thigh. Where's the harm?'

'It mocks him, Daniel.'

'I didn't know you were a believer.'

'Well, I am, and don't you mock me.'

He took her hands and smiled. 'No mockery, I promise. But I was reading the Bible all last night, and I tell you there's power in it. Not miracles and suchlike, but the way one man can bind a people together merely by telling them he's God's mouthpiece. And it seems they'll fight like devils if they think God is with them.'

'But it wasn't God who told you about the convoy, it was Sebastian.'

'But who led Sebastian to the convoy?'

'Don't play with words, Daniel. I am afraid for you.'

He was about to reply when Lisa placed her fingers on her lips in warning and he turned to see Sebastian climbing the hill. The young man squatted down beside him.

'Was it true, Dan?'

'What, lad?'

'About God and the, convoy?' His eyes were shining and Cade glanced at Lisa, suddenly ill at ease.

'Of course it was true, Sebastian.'

'Dammit, Daniel. Damn it all to Hell,' said Sebastian happily. He smiled at Lisa and then sprinted away over the mountainside.

'Would you believe that?' said Cade.

'No, but he did!'

'What does that mean?'

'Didn't you look at his face, Daniel? He was overjoyed. He looks up in the sky now and he sees God smiling down on him.'

'Is that so bad?'

'I don't think you realize the full power of such a deceit.'

Tower is what I want, Lisa. And it won't hurt Sebastian to think that God loves him.'

'I'm not sure that is true,' said Lisa, 'but let's wait and see. I am more worried about you. What will you tell them when things go wrong? How will you explain when God lies to you?'

Cade chuckled. That was all in the Bible too, Lisa. It's a smart book. When things go right, God did it. When they go wrong, it was because he was disobeyed, or the people were unholy, or it was a punishment. He never loses and neither will I. Me and God, we understand one another.

Trust me.'

'I trust you, Daniel. I love you. You're all I have — all I want.'

'I'll give you the world, Lisa. Wait and see.'


Two days later Cade and Gambion sat their horses on the plain before the Yeager mountains, watching the column of Hellborn bearing down on them.

'Time to run, Daniel?'

'Not yet,' said Cade, pulling clear his long rifle and cocking it. Leaning forward, he sighted the weapon on the lead rider and gently tightened the trigger. The rifle bucked against his shoulder and the rider tumbled from the saddle.

Shells whistled round their ears.

'Now, Daniel?'

'Damn right!'

They wheeled their horses and thundered towards the pass.

Cade cursed, knowing he had left it a little late. A shot killed his horse and the animal pitched head-first to the ground, catapulting Cade from the saddle. He landed hard and screamed as his knee cracked against a rock. Gambion was almost clear and he dragged his mount back, drew his pistol and charged back towards Cade. By some miracle he was not hit and his hairy hand grasped Cade's collar, hauling him across the saddle.

Gambion's horse was hit twice but it gamely stuck to its run into the pass; then, with blood pumping from its nostrils, it sank to the ground. Gambion leapt clear, pulled Cade across his shoulders and ran for the rocks. Bullets screamed close and the Hellborn bore down on them.

Hidden in the rocks all around the pass, the riflemen of Yeager took careful aim. But they could not fire, for Gambion and Cade were virtually in the midst of the enemy.

Gambion shot two riders from their mounts before a bullet struck his shoulder, knocking him back. He fell heavily, pitching the stunned Cade to the ground.

Cade rolled and came up on his knees to find himself staring into the black muzzles of the Hellborn rifles and pistols. His eyes raked the warriors with their shining black breastplates and curious helms.

'God damn you all!' he said.

A rifle shot broke the silence and Cade winced, but the shell came from the pass and smashed a Hellborn from the saddle. Suddenly the air was alive with a merciless hail of bullets that shrieked and screamed into the massed ranks of the enemy. The noise echoed in the mountains like the wrath of God, and-when the smoke cleared the dozen or so Hellborn survivors were racing from the pass.

Cade limped back to Gambion. The big man was alive, the wound high in his chest cutting the muscle above his collar-bone.

He gripped Cade's arm. 'I never seen nothing like it, Daniel,' he whispered. 'Never! I thought you was lying to them farmers, but now I've seen it with my own eyes. Them Hellborn couldn't shoot you, and you on your knees and unarmed. And then you called on God. .'

'Lie there, Ephram. Rest and I'll stop that bleeding.'

'Who would have believed it? Daniel Cade, chosen by God!'


'Yes,' said Cade sadly. 'Who could believe it?'


The spirit of Donna Taybard soared out of control in a blur of speed and light that caused her mind to spin. Her thoughts were incoherent and a thousand voices lashed at her like whips of roaring sound.

Stars sped by like comets and she hurtled through the hearts of many suns, feeling neither heat nor cold in her mad race to escape the voices in her mind.

A hand touched hers and she screamed, but the hand held on, pulling her, and the voices faded.

'Be calm, child, I am with you,' said Karitas.

'I can't endure this any more. What is happening to me?'

'It is the land, Donna. As your child grows within you, so too does the power.'

'I don't want it.'

'It is not a question of want; you must conquer it. You will never overcome fear by running away from it.'

Together they floated above a peaceful blue planet and watched the swirling clouds below.

'I cannot cope with it, Karitas. I am losing all sense of reality.'

'It is all real — both the life of the flesh and the power of the spirit. This is real. Con Griffin is real.

Abaddon is real.'

'He covered me with black wings and talons. He told me he could take me whenever he chose.'

'He is a princely liar. Who knows where your power will lead you?'

'I can't control it, Karitas. I was sitting at home looking after Jacob, dressing his wounds, when he opened his eyes and could not see me. And I realized that my body was asleep in a chair before the fire and I had come to him as a spirit. And I did not even know!'

'But you will,' he said soothingly. 'I promise you. And I will help you.'

'What have I become, Karitas? What am I becoming?'

'You are a woman. And a very pretty woman. Were I a couple of hundred years younger, and not dead, I would pay court to you myself!'

She smiled then and some of the tension eased from her.

'What are the voices?'

'They are the souls of sleepers, dreamers. Imagine yourself in a river of souls; they are just random voices, not directed at you. You must learn to screen them out, as you screen out the noise of the wind in the trees.'

'And my pregnancy is the cause of this?'

'Yes and no. The babe and the land, working together.'

'And will she be harmed by what is happening to me? Will she be changed?'

'She?'

'It is a girl. . she is a girl.'


'I do not know, Donna. We'll see.'

'Will you take me home?'

'No. You must find your own way.'

'I can't, I am lost.'

'Try. I will follow you.'

Donna flashed towards the blue planet, skimming mountains and crossing wide glistening lakes and rolling prairies. There was nothing she recognized. She saw settlements of tents, homes of stone — cabins, huts and even cave dwellings. She crossed an ocean and watched ships with triangular sails battling storms and reefs, until at last she came to a world of ice and glaciers, like palaces, tall and stately.

'I cannot find my way,' she said.

'Close your eyes and think yourself home.'

She tried, but when she opened them she was below the sea, watching sharks gliding around the spiked head of an enormous statue. She panicked and flew and Karitas caught her.

'Listen to me, Donna. Fear and panic are your enemies. Look on them with loathing as the servants of Abaddon and dismiss them from your mind. Your home is a warm cabin where your husband and your son wait for you. Be drawn by their love and their need; you can explore sunken cities at any time.'

She closed her eyes once more and thought of Con Griffin, but Jon Shannow's face came to her mind. She shut him out and saw the red-headed Griffin sitting beside her sleeping form. He had her hand in his and his face was troubled. She closed on the scene and opened the eyes of her body.

'Con,' she whispered.

'Are you well?'

'I am fine.' She lifted her hand to touch his face and he recoiled.

Both her hands were in her lap, and she had touched him with her spirit. Tears welled in her eyes.

'I cannot control it,' she said. There are no chains any more, holding me to my body.'

'I don't understand. Are you sick?'

'No.' She concentrated on standing and felt loose inside her body, as if her soul were liquid and her flesh a sponge that could not contain it. He helped her to her bed. In the other room Madden's wife, Rachel, sat by him as he slept.

Madden stirred. He had lost a great deal of blood, but his strength was returning. He opened his eyes to see Rachel's careworn face.

'Don't worry about me, lass. I'll be back on my feet in no time.'

'I know that,' she said, patting his hand.

He fell asleep once more and Rachel lifted the blankets to his chin and left him for a while, moving to sit beside Griffin at the wood-stove.


'What's happening to us, Con?' she asked. He looked at her lined, troubled face and pictured her as she must have been a decade before — a slim pretty woman with huge brown eyes that belied the strength hidden behind them. Now her hair was greying, her skin had the texture of worn leather and dark rings circled her eyes.

'These are not the best of times, Rachel. But we are still alive, and there's plenty of fight left in us.'

'But we didn't come here to fight, Con. You promised us Avalon.'

'I am sorry.'

'So am I.'

He poured her some tea. 'Are you hungry?'

'No.' she said. 'I'd best be going. How soon do you think we can move him home?'

'In a day or two.'

'How is Donna?'

'Sleeping.'

'Be careful with her, Con. Pregnancy often disturbs a woman's mind.'

'Often?'

She looked away. 'Well, no, not often, but I have heard of it before.'

'There is nothing wrong with her mind, Rachel. Had it not been for Donna's powers, Jacob would now be dead.'

'Had it not been for you, Jacob would not have been shot at all!'

'I cannot deny that, but I wish you wouldn't hate me for it.'

'I don't hate you, Con,' said Rachel, standing and smoothing her heavy skirt. 'I just see you as less of a friend.'

He saw her to the door and returned to the fire.

Events seemed to be moving out of control, leaving Griffin feeling like a leaf in a storm. Donna was caught in the grip of something Griffin could not begin to understand, and the Hellborn had sealed the valley tighter than sin.

But why did they not attack? What did they want?

Griffin rammed his fist down on the arm of the chair.

He had offered the people Avalon. .

And he had brought them to Purgatory.


An hour out from the ruined city and a fresh storm broke over the riders. Driving rain lashed their faces and a howling wind raged before them like an invisible wall. Shannow dragged his long leather coat from behind his saddle and swung it over his shoulders; it billowed like a cape as he struggled to don it. The gelding ducked its head and pushed on into the fury of the storm. Shannow tied a long scarf over his hat as the winds continued to increase in power.

A tree nearby exploded with a tremendous crack as lightning ripped through it, and Shannow tried to ignore the weight of metal he carried in his pistols and knives. Batik turned in the saddle and shouted to him, but the words were torn away and lost in the wind. The trail wound slowly upwards, narrowing to a rocky ledge. Riding at the rear, Shannow found his left stirrup grazing the cliff-face while his right hung over the edge. There was no going back now, for there was nowhere for a horse to turn.

Lightning flashed nearby, the gelding reared and Shannow fought to calm it. In the eerie light of the lightning's afterglow, the Jerusalem Man glanced down to the raging torrent some two hundred feet below where white water raced over jagged rocks. Lightning flashed again and some instinct made him turn in the saddle and look back down the trail.


Behind him, six lions were charging out of the storm like demons. His cold hand dropped to his pistol, but it was too late and the lead lion — a giant beast with a red-gold mane — leapt to land with terrible force on the gelding's back, its talons raking through flesh and muscle. Shannow's pistol pressed against the lion's head and the bullet entered its eye just as the gelding, in pain and terror, leapt from the ledge.


The pistol shot alerted Batik; he drew his own weapon and emptied it at the remaining beasts, who turned and ran. With no room to dismount, the Hellborn leaned in the saddle and stared down into the torrent far below.

There was no sign of the Jerusalem Man.


As Shannow's gelding leapt, the Jerusalem Man kicked himself from the saddle and spread his arms to steady his fall. Below him the rocks waited like spear-points and he tumbled through the air unable to control his movements. Down, down he fell, bringing his arms over his head, struggling to stop his dizzying spin. He hit the water at a deep section between rocks and the air was smashed from his lungs. He fought his way to the surface, sucked in a deep breath and was swept once more below the water. His heavy coat and pistol belt dragged him down; rocks cracked against his legs and arms as he battled the dreadful pull of the swollen river. Time and again, as he felt his lungs had reached bursting point, his head cleared the surface — only to be dragged below once more.

Grimly he fought for life until he was hurled out into the air over a waterfall some thirty feet high. This time he controlled his dive and entered the water cleanly. The river here swirled without violence and he struck out for the shore, dragging himself from the water with the last of his strength. He grasped a tree root and hung on, gasping for breath, his legs still under water.

Then, having rested for some minutes, he eased his way up into thick undergrowth. Exhausted, he slept for over an hour and then awoke cold and shivering, his arms cramped and painful. Forcing himself to a sitting position, he checked his weapons. His left-hand pistol had been torn from his grasp after he killed the lion, but the other gun was still in his scabbard, the thong over the hammer saving it. His gelding lay dead some forty paces to his right, and he staggered to the body, pulling clear his saddlebags and looping them over his shoulder.

A dead lion floated by, half submerged, and Shannow smiled grimly, hoping that the Zealot who possessed it had died with the beast.

With the storm still venting its fury over the mountain Shannow had no idea in which direction to travel, so he found a limited shelter in the lee of a rock face and huddled out of the wind.


He could feel bruises beginning to swell on his arms and legs, and was grateful for the heat the throbbing caused in his limbs. Fumbling inside his saddlebags for his oilskin pouch, he removed six shells, then emptied his pistol and reloaded it. Looking round, he gathered some twigs from the ground close to the rocks. It was drier here and he carefully built a pyramid of tiny sticks.

Breaking open the shells he had discarded, he emptied the black powder from the brass casings into the base of the pyramid and then reached into his shirt pocket to take out his tinder box; the tinder within was drenched and he threw it aside, but wiped the flint clean and worked the lever several times until white sparks flashed. Holding the box close to the base of the pyramid, he ignited the powder. Two sticks caught and he crouched down, blowing gently and coaxing the flame to life. Once the fragile blaze had taken, he gathered thicker branches and sat beside the fire, feeding it constantly until the heat drove him back. Then he pulled off his coat and laid it over a nearby rock to dry.

A shimmering light grew before him, coalescing into the form of Ruth. At first she was translucent, then her flesh became solid and she sat beside him.

'I have searched for you for hours,' she said. 'You are a tough man.'

'Are the others all right?'

'Yes, they are sheltering in a cave twelve miles from here.

‘The Zealots fled after you went over the ledge. I think their main purpose was to kill you; Batik is a much lesser prize.'

'Well, they failed, but not by much,' said Shannow, shivering as he added wood to the blaze. 'My horse is dead, poor beast. Best I ever had. He could run from yesterday into tomorrow. And he had heart — if he could have turned, he would have driven the lions away with his hooves.'

'What will you do now?'

‘I’ll find the Ark, and then Abaddon.'

'And you will try to kill him?'

'Yes, God willing.'

'How can you mention God in the same breath as murder?'

'Don't preach at me, woman,' he snapped. This is not Sanctuary, where your magic fills a man's mind with flowers and love. This is the world, the real world. Violent and uncertain. Abaddon is an obscenity to both God and Man. Murder? You cannot murder vermin, Ruth, he has forsaken all rights to mercy.'

'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord? '

'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life,' countered Shannow. 'Do not seek to debate with me. He has chosen to visit death and destruction upon the woman I loved. He taunted me with it. I cannot stop him, Ruth; a nation separates us. But, if the Lord is with me, I shall rid the world of him.'

'Who are you to judge when a man's life is forfeit?'

'What are you to judge when it is not? There is not this debate when a mad dog kills a child. You kill the dog. But when a man commits the blackest sins, why must we sermonize and rationalize?

I am sick of it, Ruth. I've lost count of the number of towns and settlements that have called for me to rid them of Brigands. And when I do, what do I hear? "Did you have to kill them, Mr Shannow?" "Was there a need for so much violence, Mr Shannow?" It is a question of balance, Ruth. If a man throws his food on the fire, who will have pity on him when he runs around shouting, "I'm starving"? So it is with the Brigand. He deals in violence and death, theft and pillage. And I give them no pity. I don't blame you, woman; you're arguing for your husband. But I'm not listening.'

'Do not patronize me, Mr Shannow,' said Ruth, without anger. 'Your arguments are simplistic, but they carry weight. I am not, however, arguing for my husband. I have not seen him in two and a half centuries and he does not know I am alive, nor would he care greatly if he did. I am more concerned with you. I am not a prophet, yet I feel some terrible catastrophe looms and I sense you should not pursue this current course.'

Shannow leaned back. 'If I am not mad, Ruth, and it was not just a dream, then I can tell you the danger that waits. The world is about to fall again.'

He told of his dream of Pendarric, and the doom the Blood Stones carried. She listened in silence, her face set; when he had finished, she looked away and remained silent for some minutes.

'I am not omnipotent, Mr Shannow, but there is something missing. The catastrophe fits with my fears. But the Blood Stones of the Hellborn? Small fragments of minuscule power. To tear the fabric of the universe would require a mountain of Sipstrassi and a colossal evil.'

'Do not seek to fit the facts to your theories, Ruth. Examine the facts as they stand. Pendarric says blood and death unleashed the power of the Stones. Abaddon has sent his armies into the south.

Where else can the evil lie?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know, I only know I feel very old. I was married eighteen years before the Fall, and I was not a young bride. I had such dreams, such romantic dreams. And Lawrence was not evil then.

'He was an occultist, but he was witty and urbane and very welcome at select parties. We had a daughter, Sarah. Oh Shannow, she was a lovely child.' She lapsed into a silence Shannow did not disturb. 'She was killed at the age of five in an accident and it broke Lawrence — cut him so deeply no one could see the scar. I just cried out my pain, and learned to live with it. He delved more deeply into occult matters, finding Satanism just before the Fall.

'When the earth toppled we survived with some three hundred others and before long, in the sea of mud that was the new world, people started dying. It was Lawrence who bound the survivors together — he was wonderful, charismatic, understanding, strong and caring.

'For three years we were almost happy and then the dreams began — the visions of Satan talking to him, making him promises. He left us for a while to go into the wilderness. Then he returned with a Daniel Stone and the Hellborn age began.

'I stayed for another eightNyears, but one day when Lawrence was away on some blood-filled raid, I walked from the settlement with eight other women. We never looked back. From time to time I heard of the new nation, and the madman who called himself Abaddon. But the real disaster came eighty years ago when Abaddon met a man who gave him the key to conquest. He was another survivor from before the Fall, and though his early years had been spent in another career his abiding hobby had been weapons — pistols and rifles. Together he and Abaddon reconstructed the science of gun-making.'


'What happened to the gun-maker?'

'Sixty years ago he rivalled Abaddon in evil. But he repented, Mr Shannow, and fled the vileness he had helped to create. He became Karitas, and tried to build a new life among a peaceful people.'

'And you think I should spare Abaddon in case he suffers just such a repentance? I think not.'

'Why do you mock? You think God cannot change a man's heart? You think his power so limited?'

'I never question his power, or his actions,' said Shannow. 'It is not my place. I don't care that he wiped out men, women and children in Canaan, or that he caused Armageddon. It is his world and he is free to do as he likes without criticism from me. But I cannot see Abaddon walking the Damascus road, Ruth.'

'What about Daniel Cade?'

'What about him?'

'Can you see him walking the Damascus road?'

'Speak plainly, Ruth; this is no time for games.'

The Brigand chief is now leading the people of the south against the Hellborn. He says he is being led by God, and he is performing miracles. People are flocking to him. What do you think of that?'

'Of all the things you could have told me, Lady, that gives me the most joy. But then you do not know, do you? Daniel Cade is my elder brother. And believe me, he will not be preaching forgiveness, he'll smite the Hellborn hip and thigh, as the Good Book says. By Heaven, Ruth, they'll find him harder to kill than me!'

'It seems I am preaching a lost cause,’ said Ruth sadly. 'But then throughout history love has taken second place. We will talk again, Mr Shannow.'

Ruth turned away from him. .

And vanished.


Daniel Cade received a number of shocks in that early Spring campaign, the first being that he became a man apart. People would approach him with disquieting deference, even men he had known for years. When he approached camp-fires, bawdy tales would die in an instant and the tellers would look away embarrassed. When men swore in his presence, an apology would be instantaneous. At first he had been amused, thinking that such displays would cease after a few days, or perhaps a week. But far from it.

The second shock was from Sebastian.

Cade was in his shack with Lisa when he heard the shouts and emerged into bright sunshine to see men streaming down the slope towards a small party of refugees. His knee was paining him and he used his cane to help him as he limped towards them. In the lead was a middle-aged woman, followed by four adolescent girls and some dozen children. They were leading a horse, across the saddle of which lay a body.

When the grey-haired woman saw him, she ran forward and threw herself to her knees. Around Cade the crowd drew back. Many were farmers who still retained some suspicion of the former Brigand and they fell silent as the woman wept at his feet. Cade stepped forward and selfconsciously raised her and her eyes met his.

'You are free from trouble, sister,' Cade told her.

'But only through you and the Hand of God,' she answered, her voice trembling.

'What happened to you, Abigail?' asked a man, pushing forward.

'It is you, Andrew?'

'It is. We thought you were lost to us.'

The woman sank to the ground and the man knelt beside her. Cade felt lost and curiously alone standing at the centre of the circle, but Lisa joined him and took his arm.

'We had taken the children into the high hills for a picnic,' said Abigail, 'when the riders descended on the valley. We knew we could not return, so for days we hid in the caves on the north side, eating berries and roots and nettle soup. In the end, young Mary suggested trying for the Yeager mountains.

'For two days we moved only at night, but on the third we took a chance and struck out across the wide meadows. That's where the riders found us — evil men, cold-eyed and vile. Six of them there were, and I swear they were not human.' The woman lapsed into silence; by now, all the onlookers were seated round her in a wide circle, save for Cade whose stiff knee prevented him from stretching himself on the grass.

'Our terror was great, too great even for tears. One of the children passed out in a faint. The riders climbed down from their horses and removed their black helms, but instead of lessening the fear it increased it. For here were human faces so bestial they froze the blood.

'One of them struck me and I fell to the ground. I will not tell you what they then did to certain of us, but I do tell you there was no shame in it for those who suffered, for we were incapable of fighting back.

'Then one of them drew a long knife; he told me they were going to cut the throats of the children, and that if we wanted to live we must drink the blood and swear an oath to their demon god. I knew they lied, it was in their faces.

'I begged for the children's lives, and they laughed at me. Then we heard hoofbeats. The six of them swung round and we saw a rider thundering towards us. There were two loud explosions and — blessed be God — both shots hit home and two of our attackers collapsed to the grass. Then the other four opened fire, and the rider was hit in the chest and hurled from the saddle.

'You know, they did not even check their fallen comrades. The leader turned to me and said,

"Your death will be very slow, you crone."

'But there was another shot and the young man, blood pouring from his body, came staggering forward. The Hellborn shot him again and again, but still he fired back and each shot claimed another victim. It was so swift and yet in my mind's eye I can see each second as if it was an hour

— his young body pulled and torn, his teeth clenched against the pain, holding off death until we were safe. The Hellborn leader was the last to die, shot through the heart by the last bullet in the young man's pistol.


'I ran forward and had to close my eyes against the sight of the boy's wounds. His back was open, his ribs spread like broken wings and blood was gurgling in his throat, but his eyes were clear and he smiled at me, like he was happy to be lying there like a torn doll.

'It was hard to see through my tears as he spoke. "Daniel Cade sent me," he whispered.

' "How did he know we were here?" I asked him.

"We're the Army of God," he said, and he died there. And his face was so peaceful and full of joy. I counted his wounds and saw there were fourteen, and there was no way a man could have lived through that save the Almighty had touched him.

'We lifted him to his horse, and he weighed no more than a child. We came here then, as we had always planned, and not a soul opposed our path. We saw the dark riders on their patrols, but they did not see us although we did not hide. We all knew we were protected by the spirit of that young man; he rode with us, to be buried here among his folk.

'But we don't even know his name.' She stopped and looked at Cade.

Cade cleared his throat. 'His name was Sebastian and he was nineteen.' He turned away and made as if to leave, but a farmer's voice stopped him.

‘There's more to tell than that,' he said and Cade faced him, unable to speak. The boy was a killer,' said the man, 'a rapist and a thief. I knew his people and I can tell you he never did an honest deed in his life.'

‘That cannot be so,' cried Abigail.

'By God I swear it,' said the farmer, 'but I'll help dig his grave, and be proud to lift the shovel.' He turned to the silent Cade. 'I cannot explain all this, Cade, and I've never believed in gods or devils, but if a boy like Sebastian can give his life there must be something in it. I'd be grateful if you'd have me at your next prayer meeting.'

Cade nodded and Lisa led him away to the cabin. He was shaking when they arrived and she was surprised to see tears streaking his face.

'Why?' he said, softly. 'Why did he do it?'

'You heard her, Daniel. He was a part of God's Army.'

'Don't you start that,' he snapped. 'I didn't tell him there was a woman and children. I just told him to scout for refugees.'

'What you said, Daniel, to impress him, was that God had told you to send him west to look for refugees.'

'What's the difference? I didn't tell him they were there.'

'For a man so sharp and quick-witted, you surprise me. You might send a man out on a half-chance, but for God there are no half-chances. In Sebastian's mind the refugees had to be there -

and they were. And he was needed. And he came through, Daniel. Shot to pieces, he came through.'

'What's happening to me, Lisa? It's all going wrong.'

'I don't think so. What are you going to do about the prayer meeting?'


'What prayer meeting?'

'You didn't hear it, did you? The farmer asked if he could be present, and there must have been fifty other men who showed agreement. They want to hear you speak; they want to be there when God talks through you.'

'I can't do it — you know that.'

'I know it. But you have to. You began this charade and you must live it. You've given them hope, Daniel. Now you have to find a way to nourish it.'

Cade slammed his hand down on the chair-arm. 'I'm not a damned preacher. Christ! I don't even believe in it.'

'That hardly seems to matter now. You're Daniel Cade the Prophet, and you are about to bury your first martyr. There's not a man or a woman in Yeager who will miss your funeral oration.'

Lisa was right. That evening Gambion came to Cade and told him they would be burying Sebastian on a high hill overlooking the plain. He asked Cade to say a few words, and when the former Brigand walked out on to the hillside, with the sun beginning to die in fire beyond the western mountains, some six hundred people were gathered silently on the grass around the newly-dug grave. Cade carried his Bible to the graveside and took a deep breath.

'Way back,' he said, 'the Lord Jesus was asked about the last days when the sheep would be separated from the goats. And his reply was something that Sebastian would have liked to hear.

For it don't say a damned word about being good all your life — which is just as well, for he was a hot-tempered boy, and there's some deeds behind him he'd just as soon have forgotten.

'But when the Lord came to the people chosen for fire and damnation, he said, "Be on your way from me, you who have been cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the Devil and his angels. For I became hungry, but you gave me nothing to eat, and I got thirsty but you gave me nothing to drink. I was a stranger, but you did not receive me hospitably; naked, but you did not clothe me; sick and in prison, but you did not look after me.

' "Then they answered with the words, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger, or naked of sick and in prison, and did not minister to you?' Then he answered them, Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to oneof these little ones, you did not do it to me.'"

'You want to know what that means?' asked Cade. 'If you do, then ask it of your own hearts.

Sebastian knew; he saw the little ones in danger and he rode into Hell to bring them back. He rode to the borders of death, and they couldn't stop him. And right now, as we speak and as the sun sets, he's riding on to glory.

'And when he gets there and someone says — as they surely will — that this man has been evil, he has killed and stolen and caused grief, the Lord will put his arm around Sebastian's shoulder and say, "This man is mine, for he took care of my little ones."' Cade stopped for a moment and wiped the sweat from his face. He had finished the speech he had so carefully rehearsed, but he was aware that the men were still waiting and knew there was something left unsaid. Raising his arms, he called out: 'Let us pray!'

The whole congregation sank to their knees and Cade swallowed hard.

'Tonight we bid farewell to our brother Sebastian, and ask the Lord Almighty to take him into his house for ever. And we ask that soon, when the dark days fall upon us, the memory of Sebastian's courage will lift the heart of every man and woman among us. When fear strikes in the night, think of Sebastian. When the Hellborn charge, think of Sebastian — and when the dawn seems so far away, think of a young man who gave his life so that others could live.

'Lord, we are your army, and we live to do your bidding. Be with us all, evermore. Amen.'

Three men lifted Sebastian's body on a blanket and laid him gently in the grave, covering his face with a linen towel. Cade stared down at the body, fighting back tears he could not understand.

Gambion gripped his shoulder and smiled.

'Where to now, Daniel?'

'Nowhere.'

'I don't understand.'

'The enemy is coming to us. In their thousands.'

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