Wolf In Shadow (31 page)

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Authors: David Gemmell

BOOK: Wolf In Shadow
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 Sent out by Sarento?

 To serve Abaddon?

 Shannow’s jaw tightened. He knew little of Karitas’ background, but had not Ruth told him that he gave Abaddon the secrets of firearms? And had not Sarento claimed he was a Guardian sent to instruct?

 What game was being played here?

 And why did the Guardians need cattle when their Stones could create such a palace of miracles within a ghost ship? Lewis said they needed the power for more important things. What was more important than feeding a colony?

 Sarento had said that Shannow was Rolynd, which meant his knowledge of Atlantis was greater than Archer’s. Why had he not shared it with the Guardian?

 And lastly there was Cade: Cade the Brigand, Cade the killer, throwing his hat into the ring of war.

 What right-thinking man would supply him with the weapons of empire?

 Shannow had told Ruth that he was happy to hear of Daniel’s actions, and that was true. Blood was thicker than water, but Shannow knew Cade better than any man alive. His brother was tough, and merciless. And if he had taken on the mantle of leadership, it would not be for altruistic reasons. Somewhere within the horror of war, Cade had seen the chance of profit.

 He switched the mood-view to night and returned to his bed, where with his thoughts more settled he fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke Batik was already dressed and sitting with Lewis at the table. Before the Hellborn was a plate stacked high with eggs and bacon. Shannow dressed and joined them.

 ’Would you like some food, Mr Shannow? I am afraid Batik ate your ration.’

 ’I am not hungry, thank you.’

 Lewis glanced at a rectangular bracelet on his wrist. ‘Sarento is ready to meet you.’

 Batik belched and rose. ‘How are we going to get those guns to Cade?’ he asked.

 Shannow smiled and ignored the question. ‘Shall we go?’ he said to Lewis.

 Once more out into the glowing corridor, Shannow slipped the retaining thong from the hammer of his right-hand pistol. Batik noticed the surreptitious movement and silently freed his own pistol. He asked no more questions but dropped back a pace, keeping Lewis ahead of him.

 Inside the meeting room, Sarento rose and greeted his guests with a warm smile.

 ’Did you sleep well?’

 ’We did indeed,’ said Shannow. ‘Thank you for your hospitality, but we must be leaving.’

 ’It will take time to prepare the guns for the journey.’

 ’We will not be taking the guns.’

 The smile left Sarento’s face. ‘You are not serious?’

 ’Indeed I am. You misread me, sir. There is only one dream in my life: to find Jerusalem. Sadly, I must first kill Abaddon. It is a question of pride and revenge. I am not part of the Hellborn war. If you wish guns to go to Cade, oend some of your men.’

 ’Is that not a little selfish, Mr Shannow?’

 ’Goodbye, Sarento.’ Shannow turned his back on the Guardian leader and moved to the door. Behind him Batik Spread his hands and backed out into the corridor. Shannow stood by the elevator, Lewis joined them, and the Journey to the canyon floor was made in silence.

 The horses were brought out and Lewis walked out into the bright sunlight with the two men.

 ’Good luck in your quest, Mr Shannow.’

 Thank you, Mr Lewis.’

 Shannow mounted and swung the stallion’s head to the south. Batik cantered alongside him and the two rode in silence to the rim of the hills overlooking the ruined city and the golden Ark.

 ’What was that about, Shannow?’ asked Batik as the men reined their mounts. ‘I would have thought you would leap at the chance of using those guns?’

 ’Why? You think I am in love with killing?’

 ’For Cade - to beat the Hellborn.’

 ’I will not be used, Batik, in another man’s game.’ Shannow drew his pistol. ‘With this gun I have slain many Hellborn. But is it mine? No, I took it from the body of an enemy. Tell me, Batik - how long before the Hellborn capture one of those disgusting rifles? How long before they dismantle one and learn to make their own? They are not an answer to the war, they merely enlarge it. I am not a child to be mesmerized by a pretty toy.’

 ’You think too much, Shannow.’

 ’All too true, my friend. I think the Guardians are playing their own game. I think they created the Hellborn weapons and took them to Abaddon. And I think we were lucky to leave there alive.’

 ’Why did they allow it?’

 ’Surprise. They did not expect us to refuse.’

 ’How many more enemies do you expect to make in this quest of yours?’

 Shannow grinned and his expression softened as he leaned over and grasped Batik’s shoulder. ‘Let me tell you this: one friend is worth a thousand enemies.’

 Above them the spirit of Ruth soared away, her joy golden.

 She sped south and west, passing Babylon and searching for the wagon carrying Donna Taybard, which she located in the foothills some four days’ journey from the city. Donna lay in the back of the wagon with silver bands around her brow, wrists and ankles, and she seemed in a deep enchanted sleep. The bands puzzled Ruth and she floated closer to the comatose body, but a sharp tug pulled at her and she soared away. Steeling herself, she approached the body once more and found that the bands acted like a magnet, exerting power against her. She drew closer still, and the pull became painful, but at last she could see the shards of Blood Stone within the bands. She tore herself clear and flew to Sanctuary, her-knowledge complete.

 Anger welled in her, and she understood at last the truth of the Blood Stones. It was not blood or life they drank, but ESPer power. The strength of the spirit.

 Soulstones.

 Donna Taybard’s life was to flow on Abaddon’s Sip-strassi, and her soul would enhance its power. Ruth’s anger became fury.

 A shimmering glow began in the corner of her study and she turned as the image of Karitas blossomed. She relaxed momentarily as he approached smiling, but suddenly his hands became talons, his face demonic.

 He lunged . . . but Ruth’s fury had not ebbed and in an instant her hands came up, white tire streaming from her fingertips. The demon screamed and burned. The form of Karitas became a mottled, scaled grey under the heat of Ruth’s anger, and the beast within writhed and died.

 The stench of decay filled the room and Ruth staggered back. Windows appeared all around her and a clean breeze swept the room. She sensed the presence of Pendarric and the king appeared, dressed in a black tunic with a single silver star at one shoulder.

 ’I see you have learnt how to kill, my Lady.’

 Ruth sat down, staring at her hands. ‘It was instinctive.’

 ’Like Shannow?’

 ’I need no lessons at this time.’

 ’The beast was not Karitas. It was summoned from a gateway by a great force and you had no choice but to kill it. That does not negate what you are, Ruth.’

 She smiled and shook her head. ‘Had I truly the courage of my belief, I would have let it kill me.’

 ’Perhaps. But then evil would have the victory.’

 ’Why are you here, Pendarric?’

 ’Only to help you, Lady. My powers in this world are limited to words - a punishment for wreaking havoc during my time here, maybe. But you have power, and you must use it.’

 ’I will not kill again. Ever.’

 ’That is your choice, but you can end the dream of Abaddon without taking life. The Sipstrassi works in two ways - it uses power and it receives power. It must be nullified.’

 ’How?’

 ’You can find the way, Ruth. It is important that you find it alone.’

 ’I do not need riddles.’

 ’It is time to know your enemy. Seek him out - then you will know.’

 ’Why can you not just tell me?’

 ’You know the answer to that, Lady. As with your students, you do not take a child and place the power of the world in his hands. You lead him, encourage him to grow, to seek his own answers - to develop his talents.’

 ’I am not a student.’

 ’Are you not, Ruth? Trust me.’

 ’If I destroy my enemies, then my life’s work will have been for nothing. Everything I have believed and taught to others, will have proved to be empty, devoid of truth.’

 ’I accept that,’ said Pendarric gently, ‘but only if you kill your enemies. There is another way to restore harmony, Ruth, even if it is only the harmony of the jungle.’

 ’And I can do that by dying?’

 ’It depends what manner you choose.’

 Ruth’s head sank. ‘Leave me, Pendarric. I have much to think on.’

 Lewis returned to the tunnel, summoned the elevator and stepped inside. At Level Sixteen he stopped and moved out into a wide corridor. Passing the living quarters of the field men, he saw Amaziga Archer playing with her son, Luke. She saw him and waved and he responded and walked on. He could not yet find the words to tell her that Shannow had gone - and with him the last words of her husband.

 He approached Control and stood outside the steel door; it opened after several seconds and Lewis walked inside.

 ’You wanted me, sir?’ he asked Sarento. The tall man was staring at a set of architects’ plans and he nodded absently, waving his hand at a chair. Lewis sat.

 ’You know what these are?’ said Sarento, passing the blueprints to Lewis.

 He scanned them swiftly. ‘No, sir.’

 These are the original specifications for the Ark. In three days she will sail again.’

 ’I don’t understand.’

 ’We are about to enjoy an influx of power, Lewis. With that power, to celebrate Rebirth, I shall transform the Ark for twelve hours to her original state.’

 The power needed will be colossal,’ said Lewis.

 ’Indeed it will, but we now have two hundred per cent more energy than at this time last month and it grows daily. The ship will be the last test. After that we will begin to rebuild the world, Lewis. Think of it - London, Paris, Rome all rising from the ashes of the Fall. All the technology of the old world visited upon the new, with none of the errors.’

 ’That is fantastic, sir. But where is the power coming from?’

 ’Before I answer that, let me ask you this: What do you make of Shannow?’

 ’I liked him. He is a strong man, and it took nerve to rescue Archer from Castlemine.’

 ’Indeed it did,’ said Sarento, leaning back in his chair, his golden skin glowing, his eyes bright. ‘And I admire him for it, make no mistake. I had hoped to save his Life - to use him - but he would have none of it.’

 ’He may still succeed,’ said Lewis. ‘I would not like him to be hunting me.’

 ’He will not succeed. I have alerted the Zealots and even now they are closing on him.’

  ’Why, sir?’

 ’Lewis, you are a fine soldier, a natural follower - a good man. But you are not involved in policy. You do not have the mantle of responsibility for ensuring the survival of a lost race. I do. When I became leader two hundred and sixty years ago, how much of this . . . wizardry around you existed? We lived in the caves below the Ark; we hunted for our food and we farmed, much like the other settlements to the south. But I brought Rebirth to the Guardians. I gave them purpose - and long life, let us not forget that.’

 ’I don’t understand what this has to do with Shannow.’

 ’Patience, Lewis. Archer showed the way with his records of Atlantis. The Sipstrassi was power, pure magic. But the Stones soon exhausted themselves. So how did the Atlanteans build their fabled structures? Not on tiny stones, fragments and chips. No, they had the One Stone, the Mother Stone. I searched for twelve years in the mountains, burrowing deep through hidden caverns. And I found it, Lewis - eighty tons of pure Sipstrassi, in one piece. It was the great secret of the Atlantean kings and they built a circle of stones around it, below ground. It was their high altar. Pendarric, the last of their kings, hacked a section from it and used that one broken piece to carve an empire. We will go one better. We are using it all. And now to your question, Archer. What of Shannow?’

 Sarento stood, towering over the seated Lewis. ‘He plans, though unwittingly, to stop the power flowing to the Mother Stone.’

 ’Can he do it?’

 Sarento shrugged. ‘We will never know, for he will be dead within hours.’

 ’I asked you before where the power comes from,’ repeated Lewis.

 ’Indeed you did, and I hope you are prepared by now for the answer. Every Hellborn soldier carries a Blood Stone and every time he kills - or even is killed - he transmits power back to the Mother Stone. When the Hellborn sacrifice their ESPers they use Sipstrassi knives, and much of the power returns to us.’

 Then the Mother Stone is no longer pure?’

 ’Pure? Don’t be a fool, Lewis! It is merely stronger. Too strong to create food, which is a drawback, but it can now fulfil our dreams.’

 ’It can’t be right to use the foulness of the Hellborn.’

 ’Lewis, Lewis!’ said Sarento, laying his Hand on the soldier’s shoulder. ‘We are the Hellborn. We created them from the dreams of the madman Welby. We gave him power, we gave him primitive guns and he is ours, though he does not know it.’

 Lewis’s mouth was suddenly dry. ‘But what of the deaths?’

 Sarento sat down on the edge of the desk. ‘You think it doesn’t grieve me? But our duty to the future is to keep alive the civilization of the past.

 ’You must try to understand that, Lewis. We can only keep our dreams alive for a short time in this vacuum of a colony. One natural disaster - or a plague - and it could all be wiped out. The past must be made to live again out there in the new world - cities, laws, books, hospitals, theatres. Culture, Lewis . . . and technology. And even the stars. For what science could not achieve, surely magic can.’

 Lewis remained silent, his thoughts whirling. Sarento sat statue-still, his dark eyes locked on Lewis’ face.

 ’One thing, sir,’ said Lewis at last. ‘As we build and grow, the Stone will need even more power. Yes? Do we fuel it with death for ever?’

 ’A good point, Lewis, and it proves that I was right about you. You have intellect. The answer is yes. But we do not have to be demonic. Man is a natural hunting, killing animal. He cannot survive without wars. Think back on your history - it is a kaleidoscope of cruelty and terror. But from each war man progressed. For war establishes unity. Take Rome - they conquered the world in blood and fire. But only then could civilization take root. After conquest there was unity. With unity came law. With law came culture. But not just the Romans, Lewis. The Macedonians, the British, the Spaniards, the French, the Americans. There will always be those who desire war. We will give that atavistic need a positive purpose.’

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