David Gemmell - Wolf in Shadow

'I think you have your priorities right, at least,' commented Karitas.

‘They are only men, Karitas. They bleed, they die. And I cannot believe the Lord of Hosts will allow them to succeed.'

As Shannow rose to leave, Karitas stopped him. He took the Stone from his pouch and offered it to the taller man.

'Without it you may die. Take it with you.'

'No, keep it here — you may need its powers.'

'It is almost used up, Shannow. You see, I refuse to feed it.'

'How do you feed a stone?'

'With blood and death.'

'Do not worry about me, Karitas. I will survive. Just get your people into the hills and keep that pistol primed.'

Shannow returned to his hut and loaded his three spare cylinders, stowing them in his greatcoat pockets. Then he took the Bible from his saddlebag and turned to Jeremiah:

'Thus, saith the Lord, Behold, a people comethfrom the north country and a great nation shall be raised from the sides of the earth. They shall lay hold on bow and spear; they are cruel, and have no mercy; their voice roareth like the sea, and they ride upon horses, set in array as men for war against thee. .'

Shannow set aside the Section and closed his eyes. In the distance thunder rolled across the heavens.

He rose and left the hut, his saddle on his right shoulder. In the open ground beyond, thirty of the warriors awaited him with set faces; their quivers full of arrows.

'I will ride out and scout the land. Follow my tracks and wait for me where you see this sign.' He made the sign of the cross with his arms and then walked past them to the paddock.

Shannow headed east and did not once look back to see the warriors in single file loping behind him.

The country was open and in places snow had drifted to a depth of more than ten feet. The gelding skirted the drifts and headed on towards the high ground and the distant timber line of the Carns' territory. Shannow had seen the attack on the Carns' village, and he guessed that the Hellborn would camp there overnight. If he was right they now had two options: they could rest for the day at the site of their victory, or they could ride on immediately towards Karitas' village.

If the former, Shannow's small band stood a chance. If the latter, then the two parties would meet on open ground and the villagers would be massacred.

The day was icy cool and a breeze was blowing from the north. Shannow shivered and gathered his coat at the collar. The gelding pushed on through the morning and the distant trees grew steadily closer.

The crack of a pistol echoed in the air and Shannow drew on the reins, and scanned the trees. He could see nothing, and the distance was too great for the shot to have been aimed at him. Warily he rode on. Several more shots sounded from the woods — the Hellborn were hunting the last of the Carns. Shannow grinned. The first danger was past.

At the foot of the last rise before the woods, Shannow dismounted. He gathered two sticks and tied them in a cross which he thrust into a snowdrift; it would be many hours before fresh falls of snow would cover it. Then he guided the gelding up the rise and into the trees.

A blue- and yellow-streaked figure hurtled from the snow-covered bushes, saw Shannow, screamed and fell as he attempted to change the course of his flight. Then a horse leapt the bush.

Shannow's pistol fired as the animal landed and the helmed rider catapulted from the saddle.

Shannow cocked the pistol and waited, ignoring the cowering Carn who was gazing open-mouthed at the dead Hellborn. The rider was obviously alone and Shannow dismounted, tying the gelding's reins to a bush. He approached the corpse; the rider could not have been more than fifteen years of age — and a handsome boy, even with the round hole in his forehead. Shannow knelt beside him, lifting the boy's pistol. As Karitas had shown him, it was loaded with cartridges.

Shannow opened the rider's hip pouch; there were more than twenty bullets there and he transferred them to his own pockets before thrusting the boy's pistol in his belt. Then he turned to the Carn.

'Can you understand me?' asked Shannow.

The man nodded.

’I have come to kill the Hellborn.'

The man edged close and spat into the dead rider's face.

'Where is your camp?' asked Shannow.

'By tall rocks,' answered the savage, pointing north-east.

Shannow tethered the rider's horse beside his own and moved forward on foot towards the north-east.

Three times riders came close to him, and twice he stumbled across the bodies of dead Carns.

After an hour he found a steep path winding down into a sheltered glen. There he could see the huts of the Carns, a picket line and more than two hundred horses. The Hellborn were wandering freely around the camp, stopping at cooking fires or talking in groups around larger blazes.

Shannow studied the area for some time and then eased his way back into the trees. Every so often a pistol shot caused him to freeze and drop to the ground, but he made his way back to his horse unobserved. The Carn had gone — but not before ripping out the eyes of the dead Hell-born.

. The boy did not look handsome now. Shannow was cold and he sheltered behind the horses, huddled against a bush, waiting for the villagers. After an hour he moved to the edge of the trees and saw the group waiting stoically by the cross. One of them looked up and saw him, and he waved them to join him.

Shonal was the first to arrive. ‘They are camped?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'When do we attack?'

'After midnight.' Shonal nodded.

Shannow spotted Selah in the group and summoned him. 'You should be back at the village.'

'I am a man, Thunder-maker.'

'So was he,' said Shannow, pointing to the corpse.

By dusk the pistol shots had ceased to sound and Shannow had begun to believe he was freezing to death. The villagers seemed not to notice the cold, and he cursed his ageing bones.

The moon rose in a clear sky and towards midnight the bushes by Shannow's head parted and a warrior stepped into sight. Shannow rolled, his right-hand pistol sweeping up. The man was a Carn and he squatted beside Shannow.

'I kill Hellborn also,' he said.

The villagers were alarmed. Many had weapons in their hands and several bows were bent and aimed at the newcomer. Shannow sheathed his pistol.

'You are welcome,' he said.

The Carn lifted his hands to his lips and blew a soft humming note. All around them Carn warriors appeared, armed with knives and hatchets. Shannow could not count them in the dim light, but guessed there to be twice as many Carns as villagers.

'Now we kill Hellborn, yes?'

'No,' replied Shannow. 'We wait.'

'Why wait?' asked the warrior.

'Many are still awake.'

'Good. We follow you.'

Shannow found the man's pointed teeth disconcerting. Shonal crept to his side.

'This is not right,' he whispered, 'to sit thus with Carns.'

The Carn leader hissed and spat, his hand curling round his knife-hilt.

'That's enough,' said Shannow. 'You may resume your war at a later time — one enemy is enough for today.'

'I will follow you, Thunder-maker. But this turns my stomach.'

'He probably feels the same, Shonal. Be patient.'

At midnight Shannow called the two leaders to him.

They will have posted guards, and if they are disciplined they will change the guard some time soon. We must wait until the sentries are relieved and then kill those who remain. It must be silent — no screams, no shouts; no war-cries. Once the shooting starts you must flee. Bows and knives are no match for guns. You understand me?' Both leaders nodded.

'Also, we must steal as many of their horses as we can. Shonal, have Selah and several of the younger men assigned to that task. Tell them to head the horses west and wait for us about a mile away.'