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But now the Stone was warm. Saul tried again. Holding up his fist, he willed the Stone to seek out its fellows. And the new Bloodstone obeyed, sending its power through the gateway of the circle.

Violet light filled the air around him. Saul was exultant: it was working! The light was blinding and when it cleared he saw a strange scene. Some thirty yards away a powerful man was sitting on a huge golden throne, staring directly at Saul. The man's skin was deep red and seemed to be decorated with thin black lines. Saul glanced over his shoulder. Behind him everything was as it should be, the stone circle and the dust-covered hall. But ahead was this curious man.

'Who are you?' asked the tattooed man, his voice rich and deep.

'SaulWilkins.'

'Saul. . Wilkins,'echoed the man.'Let me read your mind, Saul Wilkins.' Saul felt a curious warmth creep into his head, flowing through him. When it finally receded he felt lost and alone. 'I don't need you, Saul Wilkins,' said the tattooed man. 'I need Jacob Moon.'

A shape reared up before Saul, obscuring his view. He had a fraction of a second to register sleek grey fur, blood-red eyes, and yellow-stained fangs in a gaping maw. There was no time to scream. Talons ripped into his chest, and the terrible mouth opened before him, the fangs closing on his face.

CHAPTER NINE

A wise man and a fool were lost in the desert. The one knew nothing of desert life, and soon became thirsty and disorientated. The other grew up in the desert. He knew that often a man could find water by digging at the lowest point of the outside bend of a dry stream-bed. This he did, and the two drank.

The one who found the water said to his companion, 'Which of us is the wise man now?'

‘I am,' said the other. 'For I brought you with me into the desert, whereas you chose to travel with a fool.'

The Wisdom of the Deacon Chapter VI

* * *

Amaziga met her son at the cross-roads outside Domango. She smiled as he rode up and waved. He was a handsome man, more slender than his father, but with a natural grace and confidence that filled Amaziga's heart with pride.

'You have him safe?' asked Gareth, leaning across his saddle to kiss Amaziga's cheek.

'Yes. And ready.'

'You should have seen him, Mother, striding out on to the street and calling out Dillon. Amazing!'

'He's a killer. A savage,' snapped Amaziga, irritated by the admiration she saw in Gareth.

Gareth shrugged. 'Dillon was the savage. Now he's dead. Do not expect me to mourn for him.'

'I don't. What I also do not expect is for a son of mine to hero-worship a man like Jon Shannow. But then you are a strange boy, Gareth. Why, with your education in the modern world, would you choose to live here of all places?'

'It is exciting.'

She shook her head in exasperation and swung her horse. 'There's not much time,' she said. 'We had better be moving.'

They rode swiftly back to the stone circle. Amaziga lifted her Stone and violet light flared around them.

The house appeared, and the two riders moved down towards the paddock. Shannow was sitting on the fence as they approached. He looked up and nodded a greeting. Amaziga swung down and opened the paddock gate. 'Unsaddle the horses,' she ordered Gareth. ‘I’ll load up the jeep.'

'No jeep,' said Shannow, climbing down from the fence.

'What?'

'We will ride through.'

That jeep can move three times as fast as the horses. Nothing in the world of the Bloodstone can catch it.'

'Even so, we don't take it,' said the Jerusalem Man.

Amaziga's fury broke clear. 'Who the Hell do you think you are? I am in command here, and you will do as I say.'

Shannow shook his head. 'No,' he said softly, 'you are not in command here. If you wish me to accompany you, then saddle fresh horses. Otherwise be so kind as to return me to the world I know.'

Amaziga bit back an angry retort. She was no fool, she heard the iron in his voice and swiftly she changed tack. 'Listen, Shannow, I know you do not understand the workings of the. . vehicle, but trust me. We will be far safer with it than on horseback. And our mission is too vital to take unnecessary risks.'

Shannow stepped closer and gazed down into her dark brown eyes. 'This entire enterprise is an unnecessary risk,' he said, his voice cold, 'and were I not bound by my word I would leave you to it without a moment's hesitation. But understand this, woman. I will lead, you and your son will follow that lead. You will obey without question. . and that begins now. Choose your horses.'

Before Amaziga could respond Gareth spoke up. 'Is it all right if I keep this mount, Mr Shannow?' he asked. 'She's a stayer, and is still fresh.'

Shannow's eyes raked the buckskin, then he nodded. 'As you will,' he said, and without another word he moved away, walking towards the open desert.

Amaziga swung on her son. 'How could you side with him?'

'Why keep a dog if you are going to bark yourself?' answered Gareth, stepping down from the saddle.

'You say he is a killer and a savage. Everything I know about the Jerusalem Man tells me that he is a survivor. Yes, he is hard and ruthless, but where we are going we will need a man like that. No disrespect, Mother. You are a fine scientist and a wonderful dinner companion. But on this venture I guess I would sooner follow the tall man. Okay?'

Amaziga masked her anger and forced a smile. 'He's wrong about the jeep.'

'I'd sooner ride anyway,' said Gareth.

Amaziga strode into the house and on to her room. From a closet by the far wall she removed a shoulder rig to which two small silver and black boxes were attached. Swinging it over her shoulder she clipped it to her black leather belt, then attached two leads to the first box, which nestled against her waist on the left-hand side. Connecting the other ends of the leads into the second box, she clipped this to the back of her belt, alongside a leather scabbard containing four clips of ammunition for the nine-shot Beretta holstered at her hip. Returning to the outer room, she pulled a fresh set of leads from the drawer beneath the computer and attached them first to the back of the machine, then to the small box at her belt.

'You are angry,' said Lucas.

The batteries should last around five days. Long enough, I think,' she said, ignoring the question. 'Are you ready for transfer?'

'Yes. You are, of course, aware that I cannot load all my files into your portable? I will be of limited use.'

'I like your company,' she said, with a wide smile. 'Now, are you ready?'

'Of course. And you have not connected the microphone.'

'It's like living with a maiden aunt,' said Amaziga, looping a set of headphones around her neck. The transfer of files took just under two minutes. Lifting the headphones into place, she flipped out the curved stick of the microphone. 'Can you hear me?' she asked.

‘I dislike not being able to see,' came Lucas's voice, as if from a great distance.

Amaziga adjusted the volume. 'One thing at a time, dear heart,' she said. The fibre-optic camera had been designed to fit neatly into a black headband, the leads connected to a set of tiny batteries contained in the shoulder rig. Settling it into place, she engaged the batteries.

'Better,' said Lucas. 'Move your head to left and right.' Amaziga did so. 'Excellent. Now will you tell me why you are angry?'

'Why should I tell you something you already know.'

'Gareth was correct,' said Lucas. 'Shannow is a survivor. He is an untutored clairvoyant. His gift is in reading signs of danger before that danger has materialised.'

'I know about his skills, Lucas. That's why I am using him.'

'Look down,' Lucas told her.