“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.”
22
“YOUR 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 ma
n 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.”
“So they wanted to kill you? That’s always the way with prophets, my friend. Tell me about your god.”
“Not my god, Shannow. Just God. The Lord Chronos, creator of heaven and earth. One god. And you, what do you believe?”
For an hour or more the two men discussed their faiths and were delighted to find great similarities between the two religions. Shannow liked the big shipbuilder and listened as he talked of his gentle wife, Pashad, and his sons, of the ships he had built and the voyages he had sailed. But when Nu asked about Shannow and his life, the Jerusalem Man merely smiled and returned to questions about Atlantis and the distant past.
“I would like to read your Bible,” said Nu. “Would that be permissible?”
“Of course. I am surprised that the ancients of Atlantis speak our language.”
“I’m not sure that we do, Shannow. When first I came here, I could not understand a word of it. But when I touched the stone to the brow of a woman in need of healing, all the words became clear inside my head.” He chuckled. “Perhaps when I return I will not be able to speak the language of my fathers.”
“Return? You say your world is about to fall. Why would you go back?”
“Pashad is there. I cannot leave her.”
“But you might go back merely to die with her.”
“What would you do, Shannow?”
“I would go back,” he replied without hesitation. “But then, I have always been considered less than sane.”
Nu clapped his hand on Shannow’s shoulder. “Not insanity, Shannow. Love—the greatest gift God can bestow. Where will you go from here?”
“South, across the Wall. There are signs there in the sky. I’d like to see them.”
“What sort of signs?”
“The Sword of God is there, floating in the clouds. Perhaps Jerusalem is close by.”
Nu fell silent for a while. Then he said: “I will travel with you. I, too, must see these signs.”
“It is said to be a land of great peril. How will it help you return home?”
“I have no idea my friend. But the Lord has commanded me to find the sword, and I do not question His will.”
“I can lend you a gun or two.”
“I do not need one. If the Lord has me marked for death, I will die. Your thundermakers will not alter the situation.”
“That is too fatalistic for me, Nu,” Shannow told him. “Trust in God but keep your pistols cocked. I have found He likes a man who stays ready.”
“Does He talk to you, Shannow? Do you hear His voice?”
“No, but I see Him in the prairies and on the mountains. I feel His presence in the night breezes. I see His glory in the dawn.”
“We are lucky men, you and I. I spent fifty years learning the thousand names of God known to man and another thirty absorbing the 999 names known to the prophets. One day I will know the thousand that are sung only by angels. But all this knowledge is as nothing compared with the sense of knowing you describe. Few men experience it; I pity those who do not.”
A shadow flickered out in the valley, and Shannow held up his hand for silence. He watched for several minutes but saw nothing further.
“I think you should go inside, Nu. I need to be alone.”
“Have I offended you?”
“Not at all. But I need to concentrate—to feel the presence of my enemies. I need all my strength, Nu. And that only happens when I am alone. If you cannot sleep, take one of my Bibles from the saddlebag by the door. I will see you come the dawn.”
When the man had gone, Shannow stood and moved silently into the trees. The shadow could have been a wolf or a dog, a fox or a badger.
But equally it could have been a Dagger …
Shannow loosened the guns in their scabbards and waited.
Shannow remained alert until an hour before sunrise. Then his feeling of unease drifted away, his muscles relaxing; he put his back to a broad pine and slept.
Beth McAdam walked out into the early morning light and gazed at the sky. Dawn was always special to her, those few precious minutes when the sky was blue yet the stars still shone. She glanced up to the wooded hillside and walked toward where Shannow slept. He did not hear her approach, and for some minutes she sat down beside him, staring intently at his weather-beaten face. His beard was growing again, silver at the chin, yet his features seemed strangely youthful in sleep.
After a while he awoke and saw her. He did not jump or start but merely smiled lazily.
“They were out there,” he said, “but they passed us by.”
She nodded. “You look rested. How long did you sleep?”
He glanced at the sky. “Less than an hour. I do not need much. I have been having curious dreams. I see myself trapped within a crystal dome in a huge cross that hangs in the sky; I am wearing a leather helmet, and there is a voice in my ear. It is someone called Tower giving me directions. But I cannot escape or move.” He took a deep breath and stretched. “Are the children still asleep?”
“Yes. In each other’s arms.”
“And Steiner?”
“His pulse is stronger, but he is not yet awake. Do you believe Nu? That he came from the past?”
“I believe him, Beth. The Daniel Stones are incredibly powerful. I once stood on the wreck of a ship beached on a mountain, but by the power of a great stone it sailed again. They can give a man immortality, cure any disease. Once I ate a honey cake that had been a rock; a Daniel Stone had reshaped it. I think there is nothing such power cannot achieve.”
“Tell me about it.”
Shannow told her about the Hellborn and their crazed leader, Abaddon, then about the Guardians of the Past and the rebirth of the Titanic. And finally he spoke of the Mother Stone, the colossal Sipstrassi meteorite that had been corrupted by blood and sacrifice.
“So there are two kinds of stones?” she said.
“No, just one. Sipstrassi is the pure power, but the more it is used, the sooner it fades. If fed with blood, it swells again, but it can no longer heal or make food. Also, it affects the mind of the user, bringing with it a lust for pain and violence. The Hellborn all had Blood Stones, but their power was drained during the war.”
“How did you survive, Jon Shannow, against such odds?”
He smiled and pointed to the sky. “Who knows? I ask myself that question often—not just about the Hellborn Zealots but about all the perils I have faced. Much is timing; more is luck or the will of God. But I have seen strong men cut down by enemies, or disease, or accident. When I was young, I had another name; I was Jon Cade. I met a town tamer called Varey Shannow who taught me about people and the ways of evil men. He could stand alone against a mob, and they would turn
away from his eyes. But one day a young man—no more than a boy—walked up to him as he was having breakfast. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, holding out his hand. Varey took it. At the same time the boy produced a pistol in his left hand and shot Varey through the head. When they asked him later why he had done it, he said he wanted to be remembered. Varey was a man to walk the mountains with; he helped people settle this wild land of ours. The boy? Well, he was remembered. They hanged him and put a marker on his grave that said, ‘Here lies the killer of Varey Shannow.’ ”
“So you took his name? Why?”
Shannow shrugged. “I didn’t want to see it die. And also my brother, Daniel, had become a brigand and a killer. I was ashamed.”
“But did not Daniel become a prophet? Did he not fight the Hellborn?”
“Yes. That pleased me.”
“So a man can change, Jon Shannow? He can make a new life for himself?”
“I guess he can—if he has the strength. But I do not.”
Beth sat silently for a moment, then reached out and touched his arm. He did not pull away. “You know why I never came back to you?”
“I think so.”
“But if you made the decision to change your life, my hearth would be open to you.”
He looked away at the far wall and the lands rolling out beyond it. “I know,” he said sadly. “I have always been lonely, Beth. There is an emptiness in my life that has been there ever since my parents were murdered. But look at Steiner. Until yesterday the boy wanted nothing more than to kill me, to be the man who beat Jon Shannow. How long before some boy comes to me at breakfast and says, ‘Pleased to meet you’? How long? And could I sit at night at your table, wondering if your children will intercept a bullet meant for me? I do not have that kind of strength, Beth.”
“Change your name,” she said. “Shave your head. Whatever it takes. I’d travel with you, and we could build a home somewhere where no one has ever heard of you.” He said nothing, but she looked into his eyes and saw the answer. “I’m sorry for you, Shannow,” she whispered. “You don’t know what you’re missing. But I hope you are not fooling yourself. I hope you are not in love with what you are: the Jerusalem Man, proud and alone, bane of the wicked. Is there something to that? Do you fear putting aside your reputation and your name? Do you fear anonymity?”
The Last Guardian Page 17
