Wolf In Shadow (4 page)

 She pictured Shannow’s gaunt bearded face and his haunted eyes, and compared him with her memories of Prester John. The old man had been tougher than Shannow and that made him less deadly, but otherwise there was much about Shannow that John would have liked.

 ’I miss you, Prester,’ she whispered, remembering his stories of winged horses and heroes.

 For several days the little farm received no visitors. The Committee undertook no revenge raid, and Shannow spent his days helping Donna and Eric gather the small corn harvest, or picking fruit from the orchard in the west meadow. In the late afternoons he would ride the gelding over the hills and through the high woods bordering the farm, to scan the distant skyline for signs of moving men.

 At night Shannow would wait until Donna invited him to share her bed, and on each occasion he reacted as to an unexpected gift.

 On the fifth day a rider approached the farm in the hour after noon. Shielding her eyes against the sunlight, Donna recognized the ambling gait of Ash Hurry’s mule, even before identifying the portly saint.

 ’You will like him, Jon,’ she told Shannow as the rider approached. ‘He is another who follows the old ways. There are several saints in Rivervale.’ Shannow merely nodded and watched warily as the tall, overweight man dismounted. He had wavy dark hair and a friendly open face.

 Burry opened his arms and hugged Donna warmly. ‘God’s greeting, Donna. Peace be upon your house.’ His blue eyes flickered to Shannow and he held out his hand. Shannow took it; the grip was not firm and the man’s hands were soft.

 ’And greetings to you, brother,’ said Burry, with only the trace of a smile.

 ’Let’s not stand in the sun,’ suggested Donna. ‘Come inside. We have some apple juice cooling in the stone jug.’

 Shannow remained outside for several minutes scanning the hills before joining them.

 ’There is still no sign of Tomas, I understand?’ remarked Burry. ‘You must be very worried, Donna.’

 ’He is dead, Ash. Fletcher killed him.’

 Burry looked away. ‘Hard words, Donna. I have heard of your accusation and it is said to be unfounded. How can you be sure?’

 ’Trust me,’ said Donna. ‘You have known me all my life and I do not lie. I have a gift of always being able to see those close to me, wherever they are. I watched him die.’

 ’I know of your. . . gift. But once you saw the old Prester lying dead at the foot of a canyon - you remember? Yet he was alive.’

 ’That is not entirely just, Ash. I thought he was dead, for he fell a fair way - and I was right about that.’

 Burry nodded. ‘And yet not all gifts are from the Almighty, Donna. I cannot believe that Saul Fletcher would do such a thing.’

 ’He hanged Able Jarrett and some poor wanderer.’

 ’The man was consorting with Brigands . . . and it was a Committee decision. I do not condone the taking of life, Donna, but right or wrong it was in accordance with Rivervale law - the law laid down by Prester John.’

 ’I do not recall the Prester hanging a Landsman, Ash.’

 Shannow pulled up a chair by the window, reversed it and sat facing the saint, his arms resting on the chair-bad

 ’Mr Ash, might I inquire the reason for your visit?’ he said.

 The name is Burry, sir, Ashley Burry, and I am a longtime friend of the Prester’s family. I baptized Donna many years ago, and though she does not follow the faith I regard her as my godchild.’

 ’So this is merely a friendly visit?’ asked Shannow.

 ’I hope that all my visits are friendly, and that all who know me regard them as such.’

 ’I am sure that they do, Mr Burry,’ said Shannon, smiling, ‘but it is a long ride from Rivervale on a hot day.’

 ’Meaning, sir?’

 ’Meaning that you have something to tell Fray Taybard Would you be more comfortable if I left you to speak with her?’

 Burry rubbed at his chin and smiled to cover his embarrassment. His eyes met Shannow’s and understanding passed between them.

 Thank you for your frankness, Mr Shannow. Yes, that would indeed be courteous.’

 After Shannow had gone, Burry and Donna sat in silence for several seconds. The saint refilled his pottery mug with apple juice and then walked around the room, idly examining the furniture he had seen so many times before.

 ’Well, Ash?’ said Donna.

 ’He speaks well, Donna, but he is a Brigand - and a known Brigand. How could you allow him to stay?’

 ’He follows your ways, Ash.’

 ’No, that would be a blasphemy. I do not kill wantonly.’

 ’He rescued my son.’

 ’That is not as I have heard it. Bard and the others found the boy lost and were returning him to you when Shannow arrived and killed Pope and Miles.’

 ’Nonsense. My son was beaten and taken from the north meadow, and they were half-way to Rivervale with him. And that was the same day Fletcher tried to force me from my home. Are you blind, Ash?’

 The man is a killer - they say his mind is unhinged.’

 ’Did you find it so?’

 That is not the point. He may be rational now, but he terrified Bard and the others. Did you know he shot off Bard’s ear?’

 ’I wish it had been his head!’

 ’Donna!’ said Burry, shocked. ‘I think the man is possessed, and I believe that his evil power is affecting your judgement. Saul has spoken to me of you, and I know that he holds you dear. He has no wife, Donna, and he would be a good father to Eric.’

 Donna laughed. ‘We talk about judgement, Ash, and then you advise me to marry the man who probably murdered my father and certainly killed my husband! Let’s talk of something else: how is Sara?’

 ’She is well, but she worries about you; we all do. The committee have passed sentence on Shannow and they mean to hang him.’

 ’I am going to prepare some food for you, Ash. And while I do it, I want you to find Jon and talk with him.’

 ’What could I say?’

 ’You can talk about your God, Ash. He at least will be able to understand.’

 ’You mock me, Donna,’ he said sadly.

 ’Not by intention, Ash. Go and talk to him.’

 Burry shook his head and rose from the table. Out in the sunlight he saw Shannow sitting on a white rock and watching the hills. The man was wearing the infernal pistols which had so brutally slain Pope and Miles and God knew how many others, he thought.

 ’May I join you, Mr Shannow?’

 ’Of course.’

 ’When will you be leaving Rivervale?’

 ’Soon, Mr Burry.’

 ’How soon?’

 ’I do not know.’

 ’What do you want?’

 ’I want for nothing, Mr Burry.’

 ’It is said that you seek Jerusalem?’

 ’Indeed I do.’

 ’Why?’

 ’To answer all my questions. To satisfy me.’

 ’But the Book answers all questions, Mr Shannow.’

 Shannow smiled. ‘I have read the Book, Mr Burry -many many times. But there are no pistols mentioned. Twelve years ago I saw a picture which had not been painted. It was like a frozen moment in time. It was a city, but it took me a long time to realize it was a city for the picture was a view from the sky to the ground. There is nothing like it in the Bible, Mr Burry. I met an old man once who had a special book, very old. In it were drawings of machines with wheels and levers; there were seats in these machines and men could travel in them without horses. Why are these not in the Bible? The old man said he had once seen a picture of a metal machine that could fly. Why is this not in the Scriptures?’

 ’It is, Mr Shannow. You will recall that Elijah ascended to Heaven in a chariot of fire? You will also recall that there are many examples of angelic beings in strange machines.’

 ’But no pistols, Mr Burry. No guns.’

 ’Is that important? We know that Christ told his disciples that the end of the world was nigh, and we know that it happened. The oceans rose and the world was destroyed. Those of us now living are in the End-times.’

 ’But does it not also say, Mr Burry, that these are the times of the Anti-Christ, that men would wish they had never been born and that pestilence, plague and death would stalk the land?’

 ’Yes. And that has certainly come to pass.’

 ’And that a New Jerusalem would be built?’

 ’Yes.’

 ’Then I mean to find it.’

 ’Only God’s servants will find Jerusalem, Mr Shannow. Do you honestly believe you serve the Almighty?’

 ’No, Mr Burry, I do not, though I have tried and will go on trying. I was taught that the world is young, and that Christ died three hundred years ago and his death caused the oceans to rise. Yet I have seen evidence that the Dark Age of our world lasted much longer than that. You know that there are some who believe that the Lord died two and a half thousand years ago?’

 ’Heretics,’ declared Ashley Burry.

 ’I agree with you, yet I wonder if they are not closer to the truth than you or I. I have seen remnants of old maps which do not even show Israel, or Judah, or Babylon - or even Rome. There are names unheard of in the Book. I need to know, Mr Burry.’

 ’For what purpose? Are we not advised to ignore the seeking of signs and portents?’

 ’And yet when the clouds darken, do we not reach for our oilskins?’

 ’Yes, Mr Shannow, but what does it matter if the Dark Age after our Lord was long or short? We are here now. Does it matter if machines once flew? They no longer do so. Does not Ecclesiastes say, “There is nothing new under the sun”, and that everything that ever was will be again?’

 ’Have you ever heard of England, Mr Burry?’

 ’A Dark Age land, I believe. They preserved the Book.’

 ’Do you know where it might be?’

 ’No. Why is it important to you?’

 ’I once saw a scrap of paper with a printed verse that said, “And was Jerusalem builded here, in England’s green an pleasant land.”‘

 ’May I offer you some advice, Mr Shannow?’

 ’Why not? Most people do.’

 ’Leave this place. Continue your search. If you remain, you bring only death and despair to this house. The Committee has declared you a Brigand and a war-maker they will hang you, sir.’

 ’When I was a child, Mr Burry, my parents built a home for my brother and myself. It was by the banks of a beautiful river, and the land was rich and open and wild as sin. My father tamed that land, and it brought forth crops and it fed our cattle. Then some men came who wanted fertile land. They killed my father. My mother they abused before cutting her throat. My brother and I escaped, though I was speared and bleeding badly. My brother dragged me to the river and we swam downstream. We were taken in by a neighboring farmer - a strong man, with four strapping sons. No one reproached the Brigands who had killed my parents. That was the way life was.’

 ’It is a familiar story,’ admitted Burry, ‘but times change.’

 ’Men change them. But I have not finished, Mr Burry. Both my brother and I were brought up to believe in love and forgiveness. We tried, but the same raiders - growing fat and yet strong - decided they wanted more land. One night they attacked our new home. My brother killed one of them with an axe and I slew another with an old musket. But still they won. This time it was I who rescued my brother and we escaped on an old stallion. My brother lost his faith then. Mine became stronger. Two years later I returned to the farm and put the Brigands to death.

 ’Since then I have killed many. I have never stolen, or cheated, or lied. Nor have I broken the Commandment: Thou shall not do murder. I am not a Brigand, but I am a war-maker. I make my war upon the evil, and I am no danger to honest Landsmen. Only the ungodly need fear me, Mr Burry, or those who serve the ungodly.’

 ’What happened to your brother, Mr Shannow? Did he find his faith?’

 ’We both learned to hate. I hated the Brigands and the death dealers, but he came to despise the Landsmen who stood by and allowed the Brigands to prosper. No, Mr Burry, he did not find his faith.’

 ’You are a bitter man, Mr Shannow.’

 ’Indeed I am. But I am content with what I am and I do not compromise my principles. Now you, Mr Burry, are a man of God. Yet you come to this house to defend murderers, and you align yourself with the ungodly. Fletcher killed Fray Taybard’s husband. His men are a pack of cut-throats. And even now, Mr Burry, you sit here as the Judas goat and death is waiting as we speak.’

 ’What do you mean? You are speaking nonsense.’

 ’Am I indeed?’

 ’Explain yourself.’

 Shannow shook his head and smiled. ‘There are three men hiding in the trees to the north. Did they come with you?’

 ’No, Mr Shannow, they did not, but you must realize that a sum of fifty Barta coins will be paid to anyone who brings in the body of a known Brigand.’

 ’I should have taken the corpses to Rivervale,’ said Shannow. ‘Both Miles and Pope were known murderers; they killed a travelling family in Sertace two years ago, and they also rode with Daniel Cade when he was raiding the south-west.’

 ’I do not believe, you Mr Shannow.’

 ’It is better for your conscience that you do not, Mr Burry.’

 The meal was eaten in silence and Burry left soon after. Eric said nothing as the saint rode away but went to his room, shutting the door behind him.

 ’I am worried about him,’ said Donna as she and Shannow cleared away the dishes and plates.

 ’He fears me, Donna. I do not blame him.’

 ’He is not eating, and his dreams are bad.’

 ’I think your friend Burry is right and I should be moving. But I fear for you - when I am gone, Fletcher will return.’

 ’Then do not go, Jon. Stay with us.’

 ’I do not think you understand the danger. I am not a man any longer, I am a walking bag of Barta coins for any who feel they can collect on me. Even now there are three men in the hills building their nerve to come for me.’

 ’I do not want you to go,’ she said.

 He reached out and lightly touched her cheek. ‘I want only what you want, but I know what must happen.’

 He left her then and walked to Eric’s room. He tapped on the door, but there was no reply; he tapped again.

 ’Yes?’

 ’It is Jon Shannow. May I come in?’

 A pause. Then, ‘All right.’

 Eric was lying on his bed facing the door. He looked up at the tall figure and saw that Shannow was wearing his father’s shirt; he had not noticed that before.

 ’May I sit down, Eric?’

 ’You can do what you like. I can’t stop you,’ said the boy miserably.