‘I have changed,' said the Preacher. 'I abhor violence, and will never kill again.'
'Is that so, Jonnie? Answer me this then, where are your guns? In a pit somewhere, rusted and useless?
Sold?' His eyes twinkled and he grinned. 'Or are they here? Hidden away somewhere, cleaned and oiled.'
'They are here,' admitted the Preacher. 'I keep them as a reminder of what once I was.'
'We'll see,' said Cade. ‘I hope you are right, Jon. Such a life is good for you.'
Now the sun broke clear of the clouds above Babylon and Jon Shannow felt the weight of the pistols at his side. 'You were right,' Daniel,' he said softly. 'Men don't change.'
Gazing down on the garden he saw Amaziga, Gareth and Sam sitting together. The first Samuel Archer had been a man of peace, interested only in researching the ruins of Atlantis. He had been beaten to death in the caverns of Castlemine. In this world the black man was a fighter. In neither had he won.
Amaziga said there existed an infinity of universes. Perhaps in one of them Samuel Archer was still an archaeologist who would slowly, and with great dignity, grow old among his family. Perhaps in that world, or another, Jon Shannow did not see his family gunned down. He was a farmer maybe, or a teacher, his own sons playing around him, happy in the sunshine, a loving wife beside him.
A whisper of movement came from behind and Shannow hurled himself to the left as a bullet ricocheted from the balcony, screaming off into the air. Spinning as he fell, Shannow drew his right-hand pistol and fired. The Hellborn warrior staggered, then tipped over the balcony wall. Drawing his left-hand gun, Shannow rose and ran back to the hall entrance.
Two Hellborn warriors were crouching behind pillars. The first, shocked by his sudden appearance, fired too swiftly, the bullet slashing past Shannow's face. His own left-handed gun boomed and the man was flung back. The second warrior reared up, a knife in his hand. Shannow's pistol slammed down, the barrel cracking home against the man's cheekbone, and the warrior fell heavily.
Shots sounded now from the garden. As Shannow ran through the hall, a rifleman leaned over the gallery rail above him. Shannow fired — but missed, the bullet chipping wood from the rail. He ducked into a corridor, turned left down a stairway and right into another corridor. Here he stopped and waited, listening for sounds of pursuit.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and two men ran down. Stepping out, Shannow shot them both, then ran for the garden. Halting in a shadowed archway, he re-loaded his pistols. There were no sounds now from the garden.
Guns in hand, he moved swiftly out into the sunshine, scanning the balconies.
No one was in sight.
Creeping silently through the undergrowth, he approached the circle of stone. The sound of voices came to him as he neared the circle.
The Lord has left us,' said a deep voice, 'and you are to blame. We were ordered to kill you and we failed. Now that we have you, he will come back for us.'
'He's not coming back,' Shannow heard Amaziga tell them. 'Can't you understand what has happened?
He's not a god, he's a man — a corrupted, ruined man who feeds on life. Have you not seen the colosseum? He's killed everyone!'
'Silence, woman! What do you know? The Lord has returned to his home in the Valleys of Hell, and there he has taken our people to enjoy the rewards of service. This is what he promised. This is what he has done. But my comrades and I were left here because we failed him. When your bodies bleed upon the High Altar he will return for us, and we shall know the joy of everlasting death-life.'
Sam's strong, steady voice cut in. 'I understand that you need to believe. Yet I also see that the demonseeds embedded in your brows are black now and powerless. You are men again, with free will and intelligence. And deep down you are already questioning your beliefs. Is that not true?'
Shannow heard the sound of a vicious slap. 'You black bastard! Yes, it is true — and all part of the test we face because of you. We will not be seduced from the true path.'
Shannow edged to the right to a break in the undergrowth and stepped out on to the walkway some fifteen yards from the Hellborn group. There were five in all, and each of them held a weapon pointed at his three companions. The Hellborn leader was still speaking. 'Tonight we shall be in Hell, with servants and women, and fine food and drink. Your souls will carry us there.'
'Why wait for tonight?' asked Shannow. The Hellborn swung to face him and Shannow's guns thundered.
The Hellborn leader was hurled back, his face blown away; another man spun back, his shoulder shattered. Shannow stepped to his right and continued to fire. Only one answering shot came his way; it passed some feet to his left, smashing into the stone head of a statue demon, shearing away a horn.
The last echoes faded away. Shannow cocked his pistols and moved to join the trio. Amaziga was kneeling beside Gareth. Blood was staining the olive-green shirt he wore as Shannow knelt beside him.
'Jesus wept, Shannow!' whispered the young man. 'You really are death on wheels.' Blood frothed at his lips and he choked and coughed. Amaziga pulled out her Sipstrassi Stone, but Gareth's head sagged back.
'No!' screamed Amaziga. 'Please God, no!'
'He's gone,' said Shannow. Amaziga reached out and stroked the dead boy's brow, then she turned her angry eyes upon the Jerusalem Man.
'Where were you when we needed you?' she stormed.
'Close by,' he said wearily, 'but not close enough.'
'May God curse you, Shannow!' she screamed, her hand lashing out across his face.
That's enough!' roared Sam, reaching down and hauling her away from him. ‘It is not his fault. How could it be? And if not for him we would all be dead.' He glanced at Shannow. 'Are there more, do you think?'
There were two inside I did not kill.' He shrugged. There may be others.'
Sam took Amaziga by the shoulders. 'Listen to me, Ziga. We must leave. What will happen if we activate the Gateway early?'
'Nothing, save that it uses more Sipstrassi power. And I have little left.'
'Is there enough to get us back?'
She nodded. A shot ricocheted from the walkway and Sam ducked, dragging Amaziga down with him.
Shannow returned the fire, his bullets clipping stone from a balcony.
'Let's go,' said Shannow calmly. Amaziga reached down to touch her son's face for the last time, then she stood and ran for the stone circle. Sam followed. Shannow backed after them, eyes scanning the balconies. A rifleman reared up; Shannow fired and the man ducked down.
Inside the circle Amaziga knelt behind one of the stones and engaged the computer. Shots peppered the ground around them. They're circling us,' said Shannow.
Violet light flickered around them. .
Shannow holstered his pistols and strode out on to the hillside above Amaziga's Arizona home.
Shannow sat on the paddock fence for more than an hour, oblivious to the blazing sunshine. The desert here was peaceful upon the eye, the giant saguaros seemingly set in place by a master sculptor. His thoughts swung back to the rescue of Samuel Archer. So much death! The girl, Shammy, and all the other nameless heroes who had followed Sam. And Gareth. Shannow had liked the young black man; he had a zest for life, and the courage to live it to the full. Even the sight of his twin's corpse had not kept him from his path — a path that led to a bullet fired by a Hellborn warrior who had seen the destruction of his race and not understood its meaning.
Amaziga's unjust anger was hard to take, but Shannow understood it. Every time they met it seemed that someone she loved had to die.
Sam strolled out. 'Come inside, my friend. You need to rest.'
'What I need is to go home,' Shannow told him.
'Let's talk,' said Sam, avoiding Shannow's gaze. The Jerusalem Man climbed down from the fence and followed the black man into the house. It was cool inside, and the face of Lucas shone from the computer screen. Amaziga was nowhere in sight. 'Sit down, Mr Shannow. Amaziga will be with us shortly.'