David Gemmell - Bloodstone

'I seen it,' said Nestor. 'But what about Jon Shannow?'

Clem laughed. 'By God, boy, I do so like the young. That wall was built twelve thousand years ago, and beyond it there was a city, where men became lions. And in the sky, shining bright, there was the Sword of God. Hell of a thing, Nestor. Anyways, the demons of the pit were released around then, walking Snake-men.'

'I seen one of those too,' said Nestor. They got one down in Unity, on display. And several skeletons.'

'I've seen that too,' mimicked Clem, growing irritated by the interruptions. 'But what you won't know is that the King of these demons sent three special men to kill Shannow. Great warriors, fearless and lightning-fast with pistols. Shannow killed the first, but the other two kidnapped Frey McAdam and took her to where the Sword was hanging in the sky.'

'Why'd they take the headmistress?'

'God's Blood, son, will you just listen?'

'I'm sorry, sir.'

‘They kidnapped Beth because she was close to Shannow. They wanted to bring him to them. And they did just that. But it didn't take 'em long to wish they hadn't. I'd been wounded, but I followed them anyway. I come on the scene just as Shannow had give himself up. Suddenly there was guns blazing. I took down one, but the best of them was facing up to the Jerusalem Man. Shannow just stood there like he didn't have a care in the world — calm, powerful. Then it was over. I tell you, boy, I wouldn't want to face him.'

'He was that fast?'

'Oh, it wasn't the speed. I'm faster than ever he was. It's the sureness. Strange man — holds himself in chains of iron.' He glanced at Nestor. 'You know why he hates brigands and killers?' The boy shook his head. 'Because deep down he is one. Anatural. You see, most men hesitate when it comes to killing. I think that's a good thing, generally. Life is precious, and you don't want to take it away from someone over a whim. I mean, even a brigand can change. Look at Daniel Cade. There wasn't a more murderous bastard than him, but he saw the Light, boy. And he fought the Hellborn. So, like I said, life is precious.

But Shannow? Cross him and you die. It's that simple. That's why brigands fear him. He deals with them just like they deal with others.'

'You talk about him like he's alive. But he ain't, is he? He went up to Heaven years back.'

Clem hesitated, anxious to share the secret he had kept hidden for twenty years. 'He is alive to me,' he said. 'I never saw him die, and I never saw no fiery chariot neither. But I watched him tame a wild town.

You've never seen the like.'

'Wish I had,' said Nestor. 'I'd love to have met him — just once.'

Clem laughed again. 'If wishes were fishes, poor men wouldn't starve. How long have you known the Preacher?'

'All my life. Quiet man. He used to live with Frey McAdam, but she threw him out. Then he had a little place behind the church. He gave some good sermons. . always kept you awake in church. Well, until he started letting Wolvers in, that is. Most people stopped going then. If he'd been a stronger man he'd have kicked those Wolvers out. Then there would've still been a church.'

'What's strength got to do with it?'

'Well, everybody in town got mighty sick of it and they told him so. But I guess he just didn't have the nerve to order the Wolvers away. Some men just don't take to confrontation.'

'I guess not,' said Clem. 'Did you like him?'

Nestor shrugged. 'Didn't like him or dislike him. Felt sorry for him mostly. Shem Jackson hit him once, knocked him into the mud. The Preacher just got up and went on his way. I was ashamed for him then. I still can't believe how he shot down all them raiders. Guess he must have surprised them.'

'A surprising man,' agreed Clem.

Evil will always rise, like scum to the surf ace. For an evil man will seek to impose his power on others. All the governments of history have seen evil men gain ascendancy. How then do we ensure that the rule of evil is for ever banished from this new land? We cannot. All that we can do is strive for holiness, and seek out, individually, the Will of God. And we can pray that when evil rises there will be men, aye and women, who will stand against it.

The Wisdom of the Deacon Chapter XXII

Isis stood before the broad desk and stared at the Crusader, trying to hold on to her temper. The man had small, bright eyes and a face that seemed to her to show cruelty'and arrogance. 'You have no reason to lock up our doctor,' she said.

'When the Oath Taker gets here we'll see what's right.' he said. 'We're not partial to Movers here. We don't like thieves and skulkers in Domango.'

'We are not thieves, sir. We came into town looking for work. I am a seamstress, our leader Jeremiah is a tailor, and Doctor Meredith is a physician.'

'Well, now he's a prisoner.'

'Of what is he accused?'

'Begging. Now be on your way-or I'll find a nice cell for you.' His eyes raked her figure. 'Maybe you'd like that,' he said, leering.

'I doubt that she would,' said a cold, deep voice, and Isis turned to see Jon Shannow standing in the doorway. Moving inside, he walked past her without a word and stood before the broad desk. 'I am here to report a murder,' he said.

The Crusader leaned back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head. 'A murder, you say? Where and when?'

'About three hours' ride north-east of here. A man named Hankin. Shot to death by a group of riders.'

Isis saw the change of expression on the Crusader's face. The man sat up straight. 'How do you know there was a murder?' he asked. 'Did you see it?'

'His children saw it,' said Shannow.

'And where are they now?'

'Safe,' Shannow told him.

'You saw the body?'

'No. But I believe the children.'

The man fell silent, but the fingers of his right hand began tapping nervously on the desk-top. 'All right,' he said at last, 'this'll have to wait until the captain gets back — some time this afternoon. Why not get yourself something to eat, and come back later?'

'Very well.' Shannow swung and left the office and Isis followed him.

'Wait!' she called, as he stepped off the boardwalk. 'They've got Doctor Meredith in there!'

'It would be better for you to avoid me,' said Shannow. 'There is evil here, and it will draw unto me.'

Isis was about to reply, but he walked away across the wide street towards an eating-house on the far side.

'You know that man?' asked the Crusader, moving alongside her.

'No,' she said. 'He rode by our wagons some days back, that's all.'

'Well, steer clear of him. He's trouble.'

'Yes, I will,' said Isis.

Inside the small eating-house Shannow sat with his back to the wall. There were three other diners; a thin, balding man who was reading a book, having finished his meal; a thick-set young miner with his left arm in a sling; and a slim, dark-eyed black man who was nursing a hot mug of Baker's. Dismissing the other two from his mind, Shannow concentrated on the young black man. He was wearing a coat of dark grey wool over a white shirt, and Shannow could see the enamelled butt of a revolver in a shoulder holster on his left side.

A tall black woman approached Shannow's table. 'We got good steaks, some fresh-laid eggs, and new bread from the oven this morning,' she said. 'Or else there's what's printed on the board.'

Shannow glanced up at the blackboard and the dishes and drinks scribbled in chalk. ‘I’ll have bread and cheese, and some warmed milk, if you please.'

'You want honey in the milk?' she asked him.

That would be pleasant.'

As she walked away his thoughts returned to the meeting in the office. The Crusader's reactions had been wrong. There was no surprise when Shannow mentioned the murder, and the man's twin concerns had been the whereabouts of the children and whether Shannow had seen the body. When the waitress returned with a mug of sweetened milk, Shannow thanked her, then asked in a low voice, 'There is a man in this area named Jack Dillon. How will I know him?'