Wolf in Shadow

CHAPTER NINE

Shannow's irritation grew with the pain in his feet. Like most riding men he abhorred walking, and his knee-length boots with their thick wedged heels made his journey a personal nightmare.

By the end of the first day his right foot was blistered and bleeding. By the third day, he felt as if both boots contained broken glass.

He was heading north and west, angling towards the mountains where he hoped to find Batik and Archer. His belly was empty, and the few roots and berries he had found did little more than increase his appetite. Despite switching his saddlebags from shoulder to shoulder, he was also finding the skin by his neck rubbed raw by the leather.

His mood darkened by the hour, but he strode on. Occasionally herds of wild horses came into sight, grazing on the hills. He ignored them. Without a rope, any pursuit would be doomed to failure.

The land was wide and empty, the surface creased and folded like a carelessly thrown blanket.

Hidden gulleys crossed his path — some quite steep — forcing him to take a parallel route, often for some miles, before he could scramble down and up the other side.

An hour before dusk on the third day, Shannow came upon the tracks of shod horses. He scanned the land around him and then dropped to one knee to examine them more closely. The edges were frayed and cracked and the imprints criss-crossed with insect traces. Several days had passed since the horses rode this way. Slowly he examined all the imprints, until he was satisfied there were seven horses. This gave him some small relief; he had dreaded the thought that there might be six, and that the Zealots were once more on his irail.

He walked on and made a dry camp in a shallow arroyo out of the wind. He slept fitfully and set off again soon after dawn. By midday he had reached the foothills of the mountain range, but was forced to move north-east, looking for a pass.

Three riders approached him as he angled back down towards the flatlands.

They were young men dressed in homespun cloth, and they carried no guns that he could see.

'Lost your horse?' asked the first, a heavily built man with sandy hair.

'Yes. How far from your settlement am I?'

'Walking? I'd say about two hours.'

'Is there a welcome for strangers?'

'Sometimes.'

'What is this area called?'

'Castlemine. You'll see when you get there. Is that a gun?'

'Yes,' said Shannow, aware that all three were staring at his weapon intently.

'Best keep it hidden. Ridder allows no guns in Castle-mine, save those he keeps for his men.'

‘Thank you for the warning. Is he the leader there?'

'Yes, he owns the mine and was the first to settle the ruins. He's not a bad man, but he's run things for so long he kind of thinks he's a king — or a baron, or whatever they had in the old days.'

'I'll keep out of his way.'

'Be lucky if you do. Are you carrying coin?'

'Some,' said Shannow warily.

'Good. Keep most of that hidden too — but keep three silver coins handy for the inspection.'

'Inspection?'

'Ridder has a law about strangers. Anyone with less than three coins is a vagrant and subject to indenture — that is, ten days' work in the mine. But it ends up more like six months when they add on the transgressions.'

'I think I get the message,' said Shannow. 'Are you always so free with advice for strangers?'

'Mostly. My name is Barkett and I run a small meat farm north of here. If you are looking for work, I can use you.'

Thank you, no.'

'Good luck to you.'

'And to you, Mr Barkett.'

'You're from way south, I see. Out here it is Meneer Barkett.'

‘I’ll remember that.'

Shannow watched them ride on and relaxed. Lifting his saddlebag to a rock, he removed his gun scabbards and hid them alongside his Bible. Then he removed his small sack of Barta coins, looped the thong over his head and swung the sack down behind his collar. He glanced back along the way Barkett and the other two had ridden, made one more adjustment and walked on with hands thrust deep into his coat pockets.

Hoofbeats made him turn once more to see Barkett was returning alone.

Shannow waited for him; the man was smiling as he approached.

There was one other thing now that you've removed your guns,' said Barkett, producing a small, black single-shot pistol. 'I'll relieve you of the Barta coins.'

'Are you sure this is wise?' asked Shannow.

'Wise? They'll only strip it from you in Castlemine. You'll soon earn it back working in Ridder's mine — well, in a year or three.'

'I'd like you to reconsider,' said Shannow. 'I'd like you to put the gun away and ride on. I do not think you are an evil man, just a little greedy — and you deserve a chance to live.'

'I do?' said Barkett, grinning. 'And why is that?'

'Because you obviously intend only to rob me, otherwise you would have shot me down without a word.'

True. Now hand me your money and let's make an end to this.'

'Do your friends know you are engaged in this venture?'

'I didn't come here to debate with you,' said Barkett, cocking the flintlock. 'Give me the saddlebag.'

'Listen to me, man, this is your last chance. I have a gun in my pocket and it is trained on you. Do not proceed with this foolishness.'

'You expect me to believe that?'

'No,' said Shannow sadly, pulling the trigger. Barkett crumpled and pitched sideways, hitting the ground hard, his own flintlock firing a shot that ricocheted from the rocks. Shannow moved closer, hoping that the wound was not fatal — but Barket was dead, shot through the heart.

'Damn you!' said Shannow. 'I gave you more chances than you deserved. Why did you take none of them?'

Barkett's two companions came riding into view, both carrying hand weapons. Shannow drew the Hellborn pistol from his coat pocket and cocked it.

'One man is dead,' he called. 'Do you wish to join him?'

They drew on their reins and stared down at the fallen man, then they pocketed their weapons and rode forward.

'He was a damned fool,' said the first rider, a dark-eyed young man with a slender tanned face.

'We had no part in it.'

'Put him across the horse and take him home,' said Shannow.

'You are not going to take the horse?'

‘I’ll buy one in Castlemine.'

'Don't go there,' said the man. 'Most of what he told you was true — except the part about the three coins. It no longer matters what you are carrying; they'll take it as tax and make you work the mine anyway. It's Ridder's way.'

'How many men does he have?' asked Shannow.

‘Twenty.'

Then I'll take your advice. But I'll buy the horse — what is the going rate?'

'It's not my horse.'

Then give the money to his family.'

'It's not that easy. Just take the beast and go,' said the young man, his face reddening. And Shannow understood. He nodded, slung his saddlebags across the horse's back and stepped into the saddle.

If the rider returned with cash, that would mean they had faced the killer of their friend without exacting revenge and it would brand them as cowards.

'I did not desire to kill him,' said Shannow.

'What's done is done. He has family and they'll hunt for you.'

'Best for them that they do not find me.'

'I don't doubt it.'

Shannow touched his heels to the horse and moved on. Turning in the saddle, he called back, Tell them to look for Jon Shannow.'

‘The Jerusalem Man?'

He nodded and pushed the horse into a canter. Behind him the young men dismounted, lifted the dead body of their erstwhile friend and draped it across the back of one of the horses.

Shannow did not glance back. The incident, like so many in his life, was now filed and forgotten.

Barkett had been given a chance at life, and had spurned it. Shannow did not regret the deed.

He carried only one burning regret. .

And that was for a child who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who had touched the orbit of death around the Jerusalem Man.

Shannow rode for an hour and his new horse showed no sign of fatigue. It was a chestnut stallion some two hands taller than his own gelding, and was built for strength and stamina. The horse had been well cared for and grain-fed. Shannow was tempted to run it hard to gauge the limits of its speed, but in hostile country the temptation had to be put aside.

It was coming to nightfall before Shannow saw the lights of Castlemine. There could be no doubt as to the identity of the settlement, for it sprawled against the mountains beneath a granite fortress with six crenellated towers. It was an immense structure, the largest building Shannow had ever seen, and below it the shacks and cabins of the mining community seemed puny, like beetles beside an elephant. Some larger dwellings were constructed on either side of a main street that ran to the castle's arched main gate, and a mill had been built across a stream to the left of the fortress. Lights shone in many windows and the community seemed friendly under the gentle moonlight. Shannow was rarely deceived by appearances, however, and he sat his horse, quietly weighing the options. The young rider had advised him to avoid Castlemine, and in daylight he would have done so. But he was also short on supplies'and from his high vantage point could see the town's store nestling beside a meeting hall, or tavern house.

He checked his pistols. The Hell born revolver was fully loaded, as was his own ivory-handled percussion weapon. His mind made up, he rode down the hillside and tethered his horse behind the tavern house. There were few people on the streets, and those who were about ignored the tall man in the long coat. Keeping to the shadows, he moved to the front of the store, but it was bolted. Across the street was an eating-house and Shannow could see it sported around a dozen tables, only half of which were in use. Swiftly he crossed the street and entered the building. The eight diners glanced up and then resumed their meals. Shannow sat by the window facing the door and a middle-aged woman in a chequered apron brought him a jug of cooled water and a pottery mug.

'We have meat and sweet potatoes,' she told him. He looked up into her dull brown eyes and detected an edge of fear.

That sounds fine,' he told her. 'What meat is it?' She seemed surprised.

'Rabbit and pigeon,' she said.

‘I’ll have it. Where can I find the storekeeper?'

'Baker spends most evenings in the tavern. There is a woman there who sings.'

'How will I know him?'

The woman glanced anxiously at the other diners and leaned close.

'You are not with Ridder's men?'

'No, I am a stranger.'

'I'll fetch you a meal, but then you must move on. Ridder is short of workers since the lung fever massacred the Wolvers.'

'How will I know Baker?'

The woman sighed. 'He's a tall man who wears a moustache but no beard; it droops to his chin.

His hair is grey and parted at the centre — you'll not miss him. I'll fetch your food.'

The meal was probably not as fine as Shannow's starved stomach told him it was, and he ate with gusto. The grey-haired woman came to sit beside him as he finished the last of the gravy, mopping it with fresh-baked bread.

'You look as though you needed that,' she said.

'I did indeed. It was very fine. How much do I owe?'

'Nothing — if you leave now.'

That is kind, but I came to Castlemine for supplies. I shall leave when I have seen Baker.'

The woman shrugged and smiled. Years ago, thought Shannow, she must have been strikingly attractive. Now she was overweight and world-weary.

'Do you have a death wish?' she asked him.

'I don't think so.'

The other diners left and soon Shannow found himself alone. The woman locked the door and cleared away the plates and a thin man emerged from the kitchen, removing a stained apron. She thanked him and gave him two silver coins.

'Good night, Flora,' he said, and nodded in Shannow's direction. The woman let him out, then moved around the large room extinguishing the lamps before rejoining Shannow. 'Baker will be leaving the hall around midnight. You are welcome to sit here and wait.'

'I am grateful. But why do you do this for me?'

'Maybe I'm just getting old,' said Flora, 'but I'm sick of Ridder and his ways. He was a good man once, but too many deaths have hardened him.'

'He is a killer?'

'No — although he has killed. I meant the mine. Ridder produces silver for the Barta coin. There is a river sixty miles north that goes to the sea and he ships his silver to many settlements in exchange for grain, iron, salt and weapons — whatever he needs. But that mine eats people. Ridder used to pay for miners, but they died or left. Then he began trapping Wolvers and using them.

But they can't live underground; they sicken and die.'

'What are these Wolvers?'

'You've never seen them? Then you must have travelled from a far place. They are a little people, covered in hair; their faces are stretched, their ears pointed. It is said that they once looked like us, but I do not believe it.'

'And there is a tribe of them?'

'There are scores — perhaps hundreds — of tribes. They tend to gather in small packs within the tribes and are pretty harmless. They live on rabbits, pigeons, turkeys- any small animal they can bring down with their bows or slings. Ridder says they make fine workers while they live.

They're docile, you see, and do as they're told. But since the lung fever, Ridder has been desperate for workers. Now any stranger will end up in Castlemine. He even has men scouring the countryside. Sometimes we see wagons driven in to the castle with whole families doomed to the shafts and tunnels. It used to be that a man could work his way out in two or three months, but now we never see them.'

'Why is he allowed to do this?' asked Shannow. 'It is a big settlement — there must be three, maybe four hundred people here.'

'You don't know much about people, do you?' said Flora. 'Ridder is the main source of wealth.

Those of us who live beneath the castle need have no fear of Brigands or raiders. We live comfortable lives; we have a school and a church. Life is good.'

'A church?'

'We are a God-fearing people here,' she said. The pastor sees to that.'

'And how does your pastor react to Ridder's methods?'

She chuckled. 'Ridder is the pastor!'

'You are right, Lady. I do not know much about people.'

'Ridder quotes the Bible with every other sentence. The verse that always seems to surface is,

"Slaves, obey your masters."'

'It would,' said Shannow. His eyes were fixed on the door of the hall, which opened as a tall grey-haired man stepped on to the porch.

'Is that Baker?' he asked.

'Yes.'

Shannow removed a shiny Barta coin from his pocket and placed it on the table. 'My thanks to you, Lady.'

'It is too much,' she protested.

'The labourer is worthy of the hire,' he told her. Flora let him out through the front door and he crossed the street swiftly, moving up behind the storekeeper. The man was a little unsteady on his feet.

'Good evening, Meneer Baker.' The man turned his watery blue eyes towards Shannow.

'Good evening.' He blinked and rubbed his eyes. 'Do I know you?'

'Only as a customer. Would you be so kind as to open your store?'

'At this time of night? No, sir. Come back when the sun is up.'

'I am afraid that will not be convenient, but I shall pay you well for the privilege.'

'I suppose you want hunting goods,' said Baker, fishing in his pocket for the key to the store.

'Yes.'

'I would have thought Ridder would have been well-pleased today.'

'How so?'

'With the pair Riggs brought back. I shouldn't have thought you would need to rush out in the dead of night.'

The storekeeper pushed open the door and Shannow followed him inside.

'Well, choose what you need. I'll put it on Ridder's bill.'

'That will not be necessary. I have coin.'

Baker seemed surprised but he said nothing, and Shannow took salt, dried oats, sugar, herb tea and a sack of grain. He also bought two new shirts and a quantity of dried meat.

'You are a friend of Riggs, I see,' said Baker, pointing to the Hellborn pistol at Shannow's side.

'He has one of these?'

'He took it from the man they captured today — not the black man, the other one with the forked beard.'

Ruth stared from her study window at the students taking their midday break on the wide lawns below. There were thirty-five young people at Sanctuary, all willing to learn and all yearning to change the world. Usually the sight of these young missionaries lifted Ruth's spirits, gave her renewed belief. But not today.

The evils of men like Abaddon she could withstand, for they could be countered by the love at Sanctuary. But the real dangers to the new world, she knew, were men like Jon Shannow and Daniel Cade — dark heroes, understanding the weapons of evil and turning them on their users, never realizing they were merely perpetuating the violence they sought to destroy.

'You are an arrogant woman, Ruth,' she told herself, turning from the window. The parable of Man was there to be seen within the Sipstrassi Stones — a gift from the Heavens that could heal, nurture and feed. But in the hands of men, that was never enough; it had to be turned to death and despair.

Ruth could feel herself slipping from harmony so she took a deep breath and prayed silently, drawing the peace of Sanctuary deep into her soul. The bay window disappeared as she closed the study to all intrusion. Pine-panelled walls surrounded her. The carved oak chair shimmered and became a bed. A stone hearth with a glowing log-fire appeared and Ruth lay back and watched the flames.

She felt the presence of another mind, and her defences snapped into place as she sat up and tentatively reached out her thoughts.

'May I enter?' came a voice. Power emanated from the source of the sound, but she could sense no evil there.

She lowered the defensive wall and a figure appeared within the room. He was tall and bearded, with blue eyes and braided hair. Upon his brow was a circlet of silver, at the centre of which sat a golden stone.

'You are Pendarric?' she asked.

'I am, my Lady.'

The Lord of the Blood Stones.'

'Sadly true.' A divan appeared beside him, with braid-edged cushions of down-filled satin. He lay on his side, resting on one elbow.

'Why are you here?'

'To make amends, Ruth.'

'You cannot undo the evil you sired.'

'I know that, you are not the world's only source of wisdom. You are still mortal, Lady. I was overwhelmed by the power of the Stones, and I would argue against judging me. At the end my own strength triumphed, and I saved many thousands of my people. Abaddon is not so strong.'

'What are you saying?'

'He is lost to the Sipstrassi. Nothing remains of the man you wed; he is not the father of the evil he sires, any more than I was. He has lost the balance, even as you have.'

'I am in harmony,' Ruth told him.

'No, you are mistaken. In obliterating the desires of self, you have lost in your struggle. Harmony is balance, it is understanding the evil we all carry, but holding it in stasis by the good we should desire. Harmony is achieved when we have the courage to accept that we are flawed. Everything you have achieved here is artificial. Yes, Sanctuary is pleasant. But even you, when you leave to travel the world, find that your doubts have grown. Then you fly back like a moth to the purifying candle. The truth should remain, even when Sanctuary is gone.'

'And you understand the truth?' she asked.

'I understand true harmony. You cannot eradicate evil, for without it how would we judge what is good? And if there is no greed, no lust, no baleful desires, what has a man achieved who becomes good? There would then be no mountains to climb.'

'What do you suggest that I do?'

Take the swan's path, Ruth.'

'It is not time.'

'Are you sure?'

'I am needed. There is still Abaddon.'

'And the wolves in the shadows,' said Pendarric. 'If you need me, I will be with you.'

'Wait! Why did you appear to Jon Shannow?'

'He is Rolynd. And only he can destroy the wolf you fear.'

After he had gone Ruth sat alone, once more staring into the flames. For the first time in many years, she felt lost and uncertain and reached out, seeking Karitas and drawing him to her. His power was fading, his image drifting and unclear.

'I am sorry, Ruth, I will not be here to help you for much longer. The ties that hold me to this land are weakening by the hour.'

'How is Donna Taybard?'

'Her power is too great for her and it grows at a frightening pace. Abaddon plans to sacrifice her on Walpurnacht, and then her power will soak into the Blood Stone. You must stop it, Ruth.'

'I cannot.'

'You have the strength to destroy the entire Hellborn nation.’

'I know what power I have,' snapped Ruth. 'Do you believe the thought has not crossed my mind?

Do you not think I was tempted when I saw the Hellborn bearing down on your village? I cannot help her in the way you desire.'

'I shall not argue with you, Ruth,' he said, reaching out a spectral hand which she took into her own. 'I have not the time. I love you, and I know that whatever you do will be for the best as you see it. You are a rare woman and without you I would probably still be Hellborn. But you saved me.'

'No, Karitas. You were strong enough to seek me out. It took great courage to see yourself as you were, and struggle to change.'

For one brief moment the image of Karitas glowed like fire, then it was gone. Ruth reached out, but nothing remained.

Loneliness settled on her and she wept for the first time in more than a century.

Con Griffin had trouble in controlling his temper. The Hellborn officer Zedeki had ridden in to the settlement alone and asked to speak to the community's leaders. Accordingly, Griffin had assembled Jacob Madden — still weak from his wounds — Jimmy Burke, Ethan Peacock and Aaron Phelps to listen to Zedeki's demands.

What Griffin heard made him tremble with fury:

'We will leave you in peace in return for one hostage who will accompany us to our city and meet our king. We want Donna Taybard.'

'Or else?' said Griffin.

'I now have a thousand men. My orders are to destroy you if you do not comply.'

'Why do you want my wife?'

'She will not be harmed.'

'She is pregnant and she cannot travel.'

'We know this and there is a comfortable wagon being prepared. Believe me, Mr Griffin, we wish to see no harm come to the child.'

'I will not do it,' declared Griffin.

'That is your choice. You have until tomorrow at noon.' With that he left them, and Griffin was dismayed to see that none of his friends would meet his eyes when he returned to the table.

'Well?' he asked them.

'They ain't left us many choices, Con,' said Burke.

'You don't mean you agree?'

'Hold on Griff,' put in Madden, 'and think it through. We can't survive against them in a war, and you've done us right proud so far. But we've all got families to care for… and they said no harm would come to her.'

'You believe that, Jacob? Look at me, damn you! You believe that?'

'I don't know,' he admitted.

'She's one of us,' said Peacock. 'We can't let them take her — it's not Christian.'

'What is Christian about starting a war where we all get wiped out?' asked Aaron Phelps, his fat face streaked with sweat.

'Let's sleep on it,' said Madden. 'We've got till noon.'

They agreed on that and left Griffin sitting by the cold wood-stove staring at the ceiling. As the last one left, the bedroom door opened and Eric walked across to Griffin.

'You won't let them take my mother, will you, Con?'

Griffin looked at the boy and tears fell suddenly, streaking his face. Eric ran forward, throwing his arms around Griffin's neck.

The following day dawned bright and clear, but in the west dark clouds gathered with the promise of storms. The committee met once more and Griffin forced a vote to include the whole community in the decision. Zedeki rode in to the settlement with a wagon and waited for the votes to be cast.

One by one, the settlers filed past the wooden box — even the children had been allowed to vote.

Towards noon the Hellborn army came into sight, ringing the high ground at the valley's entrance and sitting their dark horses in chilling silence.

Madden and Peacock were detailed to count the votes and they carried the box into the scholar's small cabin. Ten minutes later, Madden called for Burke and the oldster joined them. Then he moved amongst the men and the crowd dispersed to their homes.

Griffin could barely contain himself.

Zedeki glanced up at the army and smiled. What a preposterous charade this was. He could see that Griffin knew the outcome as indeed did he, but the lengths to which ordinary people would go to preserve their pride remained a source of great amusement.

Madden emerged from the cabin and walked past Griffin, who half rose only to be waved back.

The farmer made his way to the wagon.

'Might as well be on your way,' he said. 'We ain't giving her up.'

'Are you insane?' asked Zedeki, his arm sweeping up to point to the armed riders. 'Do you think you can withstand them?'

'Only one way to find out,' said Madden. All around the settlement men and women were moving from their homes, weapons ready, to crouch behind the log screens.

Zedeki swallowed hard. 'You are condemning the settlement to death.'

'No,' said Madden. 'You're the man for that job. I don't trust you, Zedeki; I've seen your kind before. Your word ain't worth ant-spit. You want Donna, you ride in and take her.'

'We will,' said Zedeki, 'and you won't live long enough to regret your decision.'

Madden watched as Zedeki swung the wagon and toyed with the idea of killing him. Instead, heTnerely stood and waited as the wagon lumbered up the rise. He drew his pistol and cooked it as Griffin joined him.

'Thanks, Jacob.'

'Don't thank me. I voted for letting her go.'

Thanks, anyway.'

As the wagon cleared the skyline, the Hellborn riders turned their mounts and disappeared. For an hour or more the settlers waited for the attack, but it never came. At last Madden and Griffin saddled their horses and rode up the rise. The Hellborn had gone.

'What's going on here, Con?'

'I don't know. They weren't frightened, that's for sure.'

‘Then why?'

'It's got something to do with Donna. They want her badly, but I think they want her alive.'

'For what reason?'

'I don't know. I could be wrong, but it's the only thing that fits. I have a strong feeling that had we given her up to them they would have butchered the settlement. But they're frightened Donna might get hurt.'

'What do we do?'

'We've no choice, Jacob. We wait.'

Donna watched it all from the seeming sanctuary of the spirit sky. Her body lay in a virtual coma, but her spirit rose unchained to soar free between the gathering clouds and the green valley. She saw the settlers vote to fight for her, and was both gladdened and saddened, for she also saw the treachery in the heart of Zedeki.

The settlement was doomed.

Unable to face stark reality, Donna fled hi a tumbling blur where colours swirled around her and stars grew large as lanterns. There was no time here, no feeling for the passing of seconds or hours or days. At last she stopped and floated above a blue sea, where gulls wheeled and dived around coral islands. It was peaceful here, and beautiful.

Calm came to her and peace filled her, like the coming of a dawn after the sleep of nightmare.

A woman appeared alongside her and Donna felt tranquillity flowing from the newcomer. She was middle-aged, with iron-grey hair and a face of ageless serenity.

'I am Ruth,' she said.

They are going to kill my son,' said Donna. 'My boy!' There were no tears, but there was anguish and Ruth felt it.

'I am sorry, Donna. There are no words.'

'Why do they act in this way?'

They have a dream, which has haunted men since the dawn of time. Conquest, victory, virility, power — it is evil's most potent weapon.'

‘I’m going home,' said Donna. 'I want to be with my son.'

They want you as a sacrifice,' said Ruth. They need to draw power from your death; they need you to feed their evil.'

They won't have me.'

'Are you sure?'

'My strength has grown, Ruth. Abaddon cannot take me. I will take my soul and my strength far from him, and let my body die like a shell.'

That will take great courage.'

'No,' said Donna, 'for then I will be with my son and my husband.'

Donna began the long journey home. This time she travelled without panic and the swirling colours became events, a kaleidoscopic history of a world touched with insanity. Caesars, princes, khans and kings, emperors, lords, dukes and thanes — all with a single purpose. She saw chariots and spears, bows and cannon, tanks and aircraft, and a light that shone over cities like a giant torch. It was all meaningless and insurmountably petty.

It was dark when she descended into the valley and Madden and Burke were standing guard, waiting with grim courage for the attack they knew was imminent. She floated above Eric's bed; his face was peaceful, his sleep soothing.

Karitas appeared beside her.

'How are you faring, Donna?' His voice was strangely cold, and she shivered.

'I cannot stand to see them die.'

They do not have to die,' he said. 'We can save them.'

'How?'

'You must trust me. I need you to return to your body, then we will leave the valley. The settlers will be in no danger if you are not here, and I will take you to a place of safety.'

'My son will live? Truly?'

'Come with me, Donna.' She was unsure, and hesitated.

'I must tell Con.'

'No. Speak to no one. When it has all blown over, you may return. Trust me.'

Donna fled to her body and saw Con Griffin asleep in the chair beside her bed. He looked so tired. She settled back into herself and concentrated on rising, but once more she was liquid within a sponge.

'Picture your body as a thin sheet of copper,' Karitas advised. 'Believe it to be metallic.'

It was easier now and she half rose, then fell back.

'Concentrate, Donna,' urged Karitas. Their lives depend on you.'

She rose and dressed in silence. 'Dark clothes,' said Karitas. 'We must avoid the guards.' She could no longer see him now, but his voice came as a cold whisper in her mind.

She slipped out of the door and into the shadows. Madden and Burke had their eyes fixed on the surrounding hills and she moved away into the darkness unobserved. Moving from shrub to boulder to tree-shrouded hollows, she slowly climbed the rise. At the top she stopped.

'Over there,' said Karitas, 'by that circle of rocks, you will find something to help you. Come.'

She moved to the rocks and there, gleaming in the moonlight, lay five silver circlets.

'Place two over your ankles, two on your wrists and the last upon your brow. Quickly, now!'

She clipped them into place. 'Now try to leave your body.'

She relaxed and tried to soar. But there was nothing. No movement, no dizzying flight.

'Now what, Karitas?'

Six Zealots moved out of hiding and approached her. She tried to run, but they caught her easily.

She fought to tear the circlets from her wrists, but they pinned her arms. Then another voice entered her mind.

'You are mine, Donna Taybard, as I promised,' hissed Abaddon.

Sanity spun away from her, and the world faded into blessed darkness.

Griffin stumbled from the cabin, pistol in hand.

'Jacob!' he screamed and Madden leapt to his feet.

'What is it, Con?'

'She's gone. Donna. Oh, my God!'

Suddenly Burke shouted and Madden's gaze followed his pointing finger. The Hellborn army sat once more on the crest of the rise. A single trumpet blast shrieked out into the dawn air, and the riders swept towards the settlement. Men and women ran from their cabins with weapons at; the ready and took up positions behind the log screens.

Madden called for Rachel to bring him his rifle and she ducked into the house and came out cradling the Hellborn weapon. She ran towards him, but the first shot of the battle took her low in the chest. Madden saw her stumble and raced to her side, catching her as she fell.

'Something hit me, Jacob,' she whispered. . and died. Madden snatched up the rifle, levering a shell into the breech just as the rolling thunder of hooves was upon him. He swivelled and fired twice, pitching two riders from their saddles. A third fired a pistol and dust mushroomed up by Madden's feet. His return shot all but tore the man's head from his shoulders.

Griffin threw a rifle to Eric and ran from the cabin. He saw Madden down and riders sweeping towards him. Coolly Griffin levelled his pistol, sending six shots into the mass.

Burke and some twenty men managed to get to the eastern log screen, sending volley after volley into the riders. But the Hellborn rode through the field of fire and leapt from their horses to engage the settlers in hand-to-hand combat.

Griffin rammed fresh shells into his pistol and ran from the cabin towards Madden. A rider bore down on him and he dived clear of the horse's hooves. His gun thundered, the bullet taking the horse in the head; the beast went down, hurling the rider head-first into the ground. Griffin was up and running when a bullet smashed into his back; he turned, but another shell caught him in the chest. Seeing Griffin's plight, Madden swung his rifle and emptied two saddles. A shell struck his temple and he fell face forward into the dust. As Griffin struggled to rise, he saw Eric move into the open with the rifle in his hands. He tried to wave the boy back. The rifle fired twice, then a score of guns turned on the boy and blasted him from sight.

Aaron Phelps sat trembling in the back room of his cabin, listening to the shots and the screams and the thunder of hooves. His pistol was pointed at the door. Someone's shoulder crashed against the wood and Phelps fired, then the door exploded inwards. He did not see the Hellborn crowded there, he pushed the barrel of his pistol into his mouth and blew out his brains.

Outside, the Hellborn had overcome all but one man. Jimmy Burke, blood seeping from a dozen wounds, had staggered into his cabin and slammed shut the door, dropping an oak bar in place.

He reloaded his pistols and crawled to a chest by the rear wall from which he took an old blunderbuss. He charged it with a double load, then poured a measure of tack nails into the barrel.

The Hellborn began pounding against the door and an axe-blade crashed through. Burke switched his gaze to the wooden shutters of the window; a shadow blocked the sunlight at the centre and he sent a bullet punching through. A man screamed and Burke grinned. More axes swung against the door, smashing a head-sized hole above the bar. An arm reached through and Burke aimed the pistol and waited. As the man began to lift the bar, he exposed his neck; then Burke's pistol bucked in his hand and blood gushed to stain the wood of the door. Suddenly the window crashed inwards. A bullet took Burke in the chest and he winced as his lungs began to fill with blood.

Taking up the blunderbuss, he swallowed hard and waited.

'Don't take too long, you bastards,' he muttered. Another arm reached through the hole in the door and Burke cocked his weapon. The bar slid clear, booted feet kicked open the door and the Hellborn surged inside.

'Suck on this!' screamed the old man. The blunderbuss exploded with a deafening roar and a half-pound of nails ripped into their ranks, scything them down. Burke dropped the weapon and reached for his pistol, but two more shots from the window ended his defiance.

Silence fell on the valley and the Hellborn collected their dead and rode from Avalon.

A westerly wind drove the storm clouds over the settlement and lightning speared across the valley. As the rain began, Griffin groaned and tried to move, but pain ripped through him and he rolled to his side. His weapons were gone and the ground below him was soaked with his blood.

'Come on, Griffin,' he told himself. 'Find your strength.'

Pushing his arms beneath him, he forced himself to a sitting position. Dizziness swept over him, but he fought it back. Madden was lying twenty yards to his right and he crawled through the rain to his friend's body. Madden's face was covered with blood and beyond him lay Rachel, her dead eyes staring up at the lowering sky.

‘I’m sorry, Jacob,' said Griffin. When he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, Madden moved and Griffin lifted his arm, feeling for a pulse. It was there, and beating strongly. Examining the head wound, he found that the bullet had glanced from Madden's temple, tearing the skin but not piercing the skull. He tried to lift the wounded man, but his own injuries had sapped him and he sat helpless in the rain.

The storm passed as he waited, the sun beaming down on the desolated settlement. Madden moaned and opened his eyes, seeing Griffin sitting beside him.

'Did we drive them off?' he whispered. Griffin shook his head.

'Rachel? The boys?'

'I think they killed everyone, Jacob.'

'Oh God!'

Madden sat up and saw Rachel. He crawled to her and shut her eyes, leaning forward to kiss her cold lips.

'You deserved better than this, my girl,' he said. Griffin swayed and fell as Madden stood and stared at the skyline.

Somewhere out there the Hellborn were riding and Madden sent his hatred out after them in one bloodcurdling scream of frustrated rage and despair. He moved to Griffin and half-carried, half-dragged him into the nearest cabin, where the body of Burke lay beside an open chest. Madden managed to maneouvre Griffin to a bed and opened his shirt. There were two wounds, one high in the shoulder at the back, the second low on the left side of the chest, close to the heart. Neither showed an exit wound. Madden plugged the holes with linen and covered the unconscious man with a blanket.

Leaving the cabin, he found his boys together near the paddock behind his cabin. From the blood on the grass around them, they had made a fight of it. Pride and sorrow vied in Madden's mind as he turned away from the corpses and moved through the settlement, checking body after body.

All were slain.

Back in his own cabin, Madden pulled the bed from the wall and lifted the sack he had hidden there. Inside were two Hellborn pistols and around thirty shells. He loaded the pistols and strapped them to his side.

All dead. All the dreams gone down to dust.

'Well, you didn't kill me, you sons of bitches! And I'll be coming after you. You want Hell? I'll give you Hell!'