Authors: David Gemmell
“Very grateful for your assistance, Shannow,” said the man, holding out his hand. “My friends call me Bull.”
“Glad to meet you, Bull,” said Shannow, ignoring the hand. “You arrived at the right time.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” the rider answered, looking down at his dead comrades. The wounded man was sitting up, clutching his shoulder and cursing.
“There’s another wounded man up on the ridge,” said Shannow. “I suggest you ride into Pilgrim’s Valley and have a wagon sent.”
“I’ll do that. But looks like there’s a storm brewing. I should get him to Frey McAdam’s cabin. We finished it yesterday, and at least he’ll be under cover and in a bed.”
Bull gave Shannow directions, and then he and the wounded man rode off toward the north. Shannow stripped the guns and ammunition from the dead men and walked back to the bodies of the reptiles, crouching to examine them. The eyes were large and protruding, golden in color, the pupils long and oval like those of cats. Their faces were elongated, the mouths lipless and rimmed with pointed teeth. But what made Shannow most uneasy was that they all wore identical body armor, and that reminded him of the Hellborn. These creatures were not individual killers; they were part of an army … and that did not bode well. He gathered their guns and hid them behind a rock. Then, returning to the ridge, he dragged the unconscious Steiner upright and pushed him across the saddle of the stallion. Gathering his blankets, he mounted behind Steiner and rode for Beth McAdam’s cabin.
When Samuel McAdam walked from the new cabin and saw the man sitting on the ground in the shade of the
building, his fear rose and he stepped back a pace, staring at the newcomer. The man was very large, with the blackest beard Samuel had ever seen; he was gazing intently at the distant wall.
“It is a hot day,” the man observed without turning around.
Samuel said nothing.
“I am not a man to fear, child. I carry no weapon, and I am merely sitting here, enjoying the breeze before moving on.” The voice was low, deep, and reassuring, but Beth McAdams’s son had been warned many times about trusting strangers.
“Some,” Beth had told him, “look fair but feel foul. Others look foul and are foul. Treat them all the same. Keep away from them.” But this was difficult, for the man was sitting virtually in the doorway of their house. He had not come in, though, thought Samuel, which at least showed he had good manners. Beth was in the meadow with Mary, the oxen hitched to the plow, the long, arduous work of preparing the soil under way. Samuel wondered if he should just run back through the house and fetch his mother.
“I would appreciate a drink of water,” said the man, pointing to the well dug out by Bull and the others. “Would it be permissible?”
“Sure,” Samuel replied, happy to be able to grant a favor to an adult and enjoying the unaccustomed power that came with bestowing a gift. The man stood and walked over to the well, and Samuel saw that his hands were huge and his arms long. He had a swaying walk, like a man unused to solid ground who feared it might pitch beneath him. He dropped the bucket into the well and hauled it up with ease, dipping the long-handled ladle into it and drinking deeply. Then he walked back slowly and sat watching Samuel.
“I have a son of your age,” he said. “His name is
Japheth. He has golden hair, and he, too, is forbidden to talk with strangers. Is your father home?”
“He died and went to heaven,” Samuel told him. “God wanted him.”
“Then he must be happy. My name is Nu. Is your mother here?”
“She’s working, and she won’t want to be disturbed, especially not by no man. She can get awful angry, Meneer Nu.”
“I understand that. In my short time here I have discovered this to be a violent world. It is pleasant, however, to meet so many people who know of God and his works.”
“Are you a preacher?” asked Samuel, squatting down with his back to the wall.
“I am—after a fashion. I am a shipbuilder, but I am also an Elder of the Law of One, and I preach in the temple. Or, rather, I did.”
“Do you know about heaven?” Samuel asked, his blue eyes wide.
“I know a little, though thankfully, I have not yet been called there.”
“How do you know my dad is happy? Maybe he doesn’t like it there. Maybe he misses us.”
“He can see you,” said Nu. “And he knows the Great One … God … is looking after you.”
“He always wanted a fine house,” said the boy. “Do they have fine houses there?”
Nu settled back and did not notice the blond woman who moved slowly through the house with a large pistol in her hand. She halted in the shadow of the doorway, listening. “When I was a child, I wondered that, and I went to the temple teacher. He told me that the houses of heaven are very special. He said there was a rich woman once who had been very devout but not very loving to her neighbors; she prayed a lot but never thought of being kind to others. She died and went to paradise; when she arrived there, she was met by an angel who said he would take her to her new
home. They walked near great palaces of marble and gold. ‘Will I live here?’ she asked. ‘No,’ the angel replied. They went farther to a street of fine houses of stone and cedar-wood. But they passed these by, too. At last they came to a street of small houses. ‘Will I live here?’ she asked. ‘No,’ replied the angel. They walked on until they came to an ugly piece of ground by a river. Here there were several rotting planks loosely nailed to form two walls and a roof and a moth-eaten blanket for a bed. ‘Here is your home,’ said the angel. ‘But this is terrible,’ the rich woman said. ‘I cannot live here.’ The angel smiled and said, ‘I am sorry. It was all we were able to build with the materials you sent up.’ ” Nu grinned at the perplexed boy. “If your father was a kind man, then he has a wonderful house,” he said.
Samuel smiled. “He was kind. He really was.”
“Now you should tell your mother I am here,” said Nu, “lest she be frightened when she sees me.”
“She’s seen you,” said Beth McAdam. “And the man ain’t been born who could frighten me. What’s your business here?”
Nu rose and bowed. “I am seeking a way through the wall, and I paused here to drink of your water. I will not stay.”
“Where’s your gun?”
“I do not carry weapons.”
“That’s a little foolish,” said Beth, “but it’s up to you. You’re welcome to stay for a meal. I liked the story about heaven; it may be nonsense, but I liked the sound of it.”
An earth tremor rippled across the valley, and Beth pitched sideways into the door frame, dropping her pistol. Samuel screamed, and Nu staggered. Then it passed. He bent and picked up the pistol, and Beth’s eyes hardened, but he merely handed it to her.
“Look at that, Ma!” Samuel shouted.
Two suns were blazing in the sky, and twin shadows forked from the trees around the cabin. For several seconds
the brightness remained, then the second sun faded and was gone.
“Wasn’t that wonderful?” said Samuel. “It was so hot and so bright.”
“It wasn’t wonderful,” said Nu softly. “Not wonderful at all.”
Mary came running around the cabin. “Did you see it?” she yelled, then pulled to a halt as she saw the stranger.
“We saw it,” replied Beth. “You and Samuel go into the house and prepare the meal. One extra portion for our guest.”
“His name’s Meneer Nu,” said Samuel, disappearing into the house. Beth gestured to Nu, and the two of them walked out into the sunshine.
“What is happening?” she asked. “I sense you know more about the weird signs than I do.”
“There are things that should not be,” he told her. “There are powers man should never use, gateways that should not be opened. These are times of great danger and greater folly.”
“You’re the man with the Daniel Stone, aren’t you? The one who cured the plague?”
“Yes.”
“They say the stone was all used up.”
“It was. But it served a fine purpose—God’s purpose.”
“I heard talk of them, but I never believed it. How can a stone do magic?”
“I do not know. The Sipstrassi was a gift from heaven; it fell from the sky hundreds of years ago. I spoke to a scholar once who said that the stone was merely an enhancer, that through it the dreams of men could be made real. He claimed that all men have a power of magic, but it is submerged deep in our minds. The Sipstrassi releases that power. I have no idea if that is true, but I know the magic is real. We just saw it in the sky.”
“That is strong magic,” said Beth, “if it can make another sun.”
“It is not another sun,” Nu told her, “and that is why it is dangerous.”
“Y
OUR
WEAPONS
ARE
terrible indeed,” said Nu as he looked down at the wound in Clem Steiner’s chest. “Swords can kill, but at least a man must needs face his enemy at close range, risking his own life. But these thundermakers are barbaric.”
“We are a barbaric people,” answered Shannow, laying his hand on Steiner’s brow. The man was sleeping now, his pulse still weak.
“You said something about reptiles, Shannow,” remarked Beth as the three of them walked back into the large living room. “What did you mean?”
“I’ve not seen anything like them. They wear dark armor and carry Hellborn pistols. From what Steiner says, they are led by a woman.” He glanced at Nu. “I think you know her, Healer.”
“I am no healer. I had … magic, but it is gone. And yes, I know of her. She is Sharazad; she was one of the king’s concubines. But she has a lust for blood, and he fulfills her desires. The reptiles are known as Daggers. They first came to the realm four years ago from beyond a gateway to a world of steaming jungles. They are swift and deadly, and the king has used them in several wars. With sword and knife they are without equal. But these weapons of yours …”
“What is all this about kings?” snapped Beth. “There are no kings here that I have heard of. You mean beyond the wall?”
Nu shook his head, then smiled. “In a way, yes. But also no. There is a city beyond the wall. I grew to manhood there, yet it is not my city. It is hard for me to explain, dear lady, since I do not understand it all myself. The city is called … was called … Ad. It is one of the seven great cities of Atlantis. I was being hunted by the Daggers, and I used my … Daniel Stone?… to escape. It was supposed to bring me to Balacris, another city by the coast. Instead it brought me here, into the future.”
“What do you mean, the future?” Beth asked. “You are making no sense.”
“I am aware of that,” said Nu. “But when I left Ad, the city was bordered by the sea and great triremes sailed on the bays. Yet here the city is landlocked, with the statues worn away.”
“That happened,” Shannow told him softly, “when the seas swallowed Atlantis twelve thousand years ago.”
Nu nodded. “I guessed that. The Lord has granted me a vision of just such an upheaval. I am glad, however, that some understanding of our world survived. How did you hear of it?”
“I have seen Balacris,” said Shannow. “It is a ruined shell, but the buildings survived. And once I met a man called Samuel Archer who told me of the First Fall of the world. But tell me, how many of the Daggers are there?”
“I do not know exactly, but there are several legions. Perhaps five thousand, perhaps less.”
Shannow wandered to a window, looking out over the night. “I don’t know how many are here,” he said, “but I have a bad feeling. I shall stay outside and keep watch. I am sorry to bring trouble to your home, Beth, but I think you will be safer with me here.”
“You are welcome here … Jon. You do what you have to do, and I’ll see to Steiner. If he lasts the night, he has a chance.”
Shannow took some dried meat and fruit and walked out onto the hillside beyond the cabin, where he sat
beneath a spreading pine and scanned the dark horizon. Somewhere out there the demons were gathering, and a golden-haired woman was dreaming of blood. He shivered and pulled his coat tight around him.
Nu joined him at midnight, and the two men sat in comfortable silence beneath the stars.
“Why were they hunting you?” asked Shannow at last.
“I preached against the king. I warned the people … or I tried to … that a great doom was about to befall. They did not listen. The king’s conquests have led to a great swelling of the treasuries. People are richer now than ever before.”