Wolf in Shadow

'I've never heard of a Galahad,' said Shannow.

'He was a Knight, Mr Shannow, a warrior who was said to fight for God. He never succumbed to women nor any pleasures of the flesh, and he was allowed to find the Holy Grail. It is a pleasant tale for children — though not Hellborn children.'

'What do you want from me?'

'I want you to die, Mr Shannow. To cease to be.'

'Why?'

'On a whim, perhaps. It has been said that you are a danger to me. I cannot see it, but I accept that the evidence suggest some truth to the fear.'

'You do not interest me,' said Shannow. 'You have nothing that I want. Where is the danger?'

'Who knows?' replied Abaddon, smiling smoothly. 'You are a thorn in my side and I need to pluck it out and throw it in the fire.'

Then bring on your demons,' said Shannow, rising to his feet.

Abaddon chuckled and shook his head. 'I tried that, Mr Shannow, and you hurt me. Truly. But then what are my demons compared with yours?'

'I have no demons.'

'No? What drives you then to seek a buried city? Why do you cling to your superstitions? Why do you fight your lonely battles?'

'I will find Jerusalem,' said Shannow softly. 'Alive or dead, I will find my way home.'

'Home? What did you say to the delightful Fray Taybard? A rock in a lake? The ripples fade and all is as it was. Yes, you need to find a way home.' Abaddon lifted a stick and laid it gently on the fire. 'You know, Mr Shannow, many of my men are just like you — especially amongst the Zealots. They worship their god with a pure heart, and they would die gladly for him. Men like you are as leaves in the Autumn. You are a Bible-reading man — I am surprised you have not yet seen it.'

There is nothing like the Hellborn in my Bible,' whispered Shannow.

'Mr Shannow! Is not lying a sin? I refer you to Joshua and the Israelite invasion of Canaan. Every man, woman and child in thirty-two cities was slain under the express orders of your god. How are the Hellborn different? Don't bother to answer; there is no difference. I founded the Hellborn two and a half centuries ago and I have built the nation along the same lines as Israel. I now have a fanatic army, and a people fired with a zeal you could not imagine. And they have had their miracles, their parting of the Red Sea, the healings and the unimaginable wonders of magic.

'In some ways your position is amusing. You are the man of god among a nation of devil worshippers. And yet you are the unholy one; you are the vampire in the night. Stories of you will one day be told to Hellborn children to keep them quiet in their beds.'

Shannow scowled. 'Everything you say is an obscenity.'

'Indeed it is — by your lights. By the way, did you know that Donna Taybard is now living on the edge of my lands?'

Shannow sat very still.

'She and her husband — a worthy man by the name of Griffin — have settled on the lands to the west. Good farmland. They could even prosper.'

'Why do you lie?' asked Shannow. 'Is it because your master is unable to face truth?'

'I do not need to lie, Mr Shannow. Donna Taybard, believing you dead, bedded down with Con Griffin. She is now pregnant, though she will not live to see her daughter born.'

'I do not believe you.'

'Of course you do, Mr Shannow. I gain no advantage by lying to you. Far from it. Had I left her as your white lady you would have raced to her side. . and into my lands. Now you may decide to leave her be, and then I would have a merry job tracking you down.'

Then why tell me?'

To cause you pain.'

'I have been hurt before.'

'Of course you have, Mr Shannow. You are a loser and they always suffer. It is their lot in this world, as it was in mine. Your god does not bring you many gifts, does he? Have you not realized, Mr Shannow, that you follow a dead deity? That despite his propaganda and his awful book, he lost?'

Shannow raised his head and their eyes met. 'You are a fool, Abaddon, and I will not debate with you. You were right; Donna's betrayal hurts me. Deeply. Despite it I wish her only happiness, and if she has found it with Griffin then so be it.'

'Happiness?' sneered Abaddon. 'I am going to kill her, and her unborn child. She will be my sacrifice in two months. Her blood will flow on the Sipstrassi. How does that sit with you, Jerusalem Man?'

'As I said, you are a fool. Look into my eyes, Abaddon, and read the truth. As of this moment you are dead. Send your Zealots, send your demons, send your God — they will avail you nothing, for I will find you.'

'Just words,' said Abaddon, but the smile left his face. 'Come to me as soon as you can.'

'Count on it,' Shannow assured him.

Shannow awoke once more, and this time he was back at the camp-site by the stream. The fire had died to glowing ash and Batik and Selah were still asleep. Shannow rose and added sticks to the embers, blowing the fire to life. Then he sat, staring into the flames and seeing only Donna.

Vile as Abaddon undoubtedly was, there was no doubt in Shannow's mind that he had spoken the truth about Donna Taybard and Con Griffin. But he underestimated the Jerusalem Man's capacity for pain. His love for Donna had been too good; too joyful. Nothing in Shannow's life had ever been that easy. Other men mined pleasure as if it were an everlasting seam, their lives filled with smiles and easy happiness. Shannow panned in a pebble stream that yielded little and vanished swiftly.

And yet he was torn. A part of him wanted to ride swiftly to her, to kill Griffin and take her by force. An even darker thought was to ride, guns in hand, towards the Hellborn and die in a furious battle.

The sky lightened and the bird-song began in the trees. Batik stirred but did not wake. Shannow stood and wandered up a steep slope to scan the nearing northern mountains. Jagged they were and tall — piercing the clouds, like pillars supporting the sky.

Shannow could never have settled for farm life while the far mountains called him — while the lure of Jerusalem was hooked into his heart.

'I love you, Donna,' he whispered.

'It looks to be a fine day,' said Batik.

'I did not hear you approach.'

'It is a skill, Shannow. What are your plans?'

'I'm not sure. I saw Abaddon last night; he has threatened someone close to me.'

'Your woman?'

'No, not mine.'

Then it is not your concern.'

'Not in the Hellborn philosophy,' said Shannow.

Batik sat down as Shannow outlined his conversation with the Hellborn king, and the background to it. He listened intently, seeing far more than Shannow intended.

'You cannot get to Abaddon, Shannow,' he said. 'I myself have rarely seen him. He is guarded by the Zealots and only occasionally ventures among the people. And anyway you say the caravan headed north-west, which puts the lands of the Hellborn between you and "she. They are preparing for war, Shannow. The Hellborn army will not be turned aside by wagoners and farmers.'

'I cannot save her,' said Shannow, 'but I am pledged to destroy Abaddon.'

'It is not possible.'

'It may not be possible to succeed, it is certainly possible to try.'

'For what purpose? Are you the soul of the world?'

'I cannot explain it to you. Nor to any man. I cannot suffer evil, nor watch the wicked strong destroy the weak.'

'But the strong will always dominate the weak, Shannow. It is the nature of man and beast. You can be either the hunter or the hunted; there is no other choice, there is no neutrality. I doubt there ever was, even before the Fall.'

'I told you I could not explain it,' said Shannow, shrugging, but Batik was not to be diverted.

'Nonsense! At some time in your life you made a decision and weighed up the reasons for your actions. Be honest, man!'