David Gemmell - Wolf in Shadow

'Leave your weapons where they are, and wait.'

Shannow froze. The riders swept past the buildings looking neither right nor left. The Jerusalem Man watched them until they were far away, heading north.

He swung to the woman, but before he could speak she said, 'Join us, Mr Shannow, for our evening meal.' She turned and vanished into the building.

Batik approached him. 'I have to tell you, Shannow, that I do not like this place.'

'It is beautiful here,' said Selah. 'Can you not feel it? The harmony. There is no fear here.'

'Yes, there is,' muttered Batik. 'It's all in here,' he said, tapping his chest. 'Why did they ride on?'

‘They did not see us,' said Shannow.

'Nonsense, they couldn't have missed us.'

'Just as we couldn't have missed these buildings?'

'That makes it worse, Shannow, not better.'

Shannow walked up the stairs and into the building, Batik behind him. He found himself in a small room, softly lit by white candles. A tiny round table had been set with two places and at the table was the grey-haired woman. Shannow turned, but Batik was not with him. Nor Selah.

'Sit down, Mr Shannow, and eat.'

'Where are my friends?'

'Enjoying a meal. Be at ease; there is no danger here.'

Shannow's guns felt uncomfortable and he removed the belt and laid them on the floor beside him. He looked at his hands and noticed the dirt ingrained in them.

'You may refresh yourself in the next room,' said the woman. Shannow smiled his thanks and opened the oval door he had not noticed beyond the table. Inside was a metal bath, filled with warm water, delicately scented. He removed his clothes and climbed in. Clean at last, he rose from the bath to find his clothes gone and in their place a white woollen shirt and grey trousers.

He felt no anxiety over the disappearance of his belongings and dressed in the garments he found, which fitted perfectly.

The woman sat where he had left her and he joined her. The food was plain, seasoned vegetables and fresh fruit, and the clear water tasted like wine.

They ate in silence until at last the woman rose and beckoned Shannow to join her in another room. Shannow followed into a windowless study where two deep leather chairs were drawn up against a round glass-topped table, upon which sat two cups of scented tea.

Shannow waited for the woman to seat herself, then sat back in a chair and stared at the walls of the room. They seemed to be of stone, yet were soft in appearance, like doth. Upon the walls were paintings — mostly of animals, deer and horses, grazing beneath mountains topped with snow.

'You have journeyed far, Mr Shannow. And you are weary.'

'Indeed I am, Lady.'

'And do you ride towards Jerusalem, or away from her?'

'I do not know.'

'You did your best for Karitas. Feel no grief.'

'You knew him?'

'I did indeed. An obstinate man, but a kindly soul none the less.'

'He saved my life. I could not return the debt.'

'He would not have seen it as a debt, Mr Shannow. For him, as for us, life is not a question of balances earned and debited. How do you feel about Donna Taybard?'

'I am angry… was angry. It is hard to feel anger here.'

'It is not hard, Mr Shannow; it is impossible.'

'What is this place?'

'This is Sanctuary. There is no evil here.'

'How is this achieved?'

'By doing nothing, Mr Shannow.'

'But there is a power here… an awesome power.'

'Indeed, and there is a riddle in that for those with eyes to see and ears to hear.'

'Who are you? What are you?'

'I am Ruth.'

'Are you an angel?'

She smiled then. 'No, Mr Shannow, I am a woman.'

'I am sorry that I do not understand. I feel it is important.'

'You are right in that, but rest now. We will talk tomorrow.'

She rose and left him. He heard the door close and stood. A bed lay by the far wall and he lay upon it and slept without dreams.

Batik followed Shannow into the building and found himself in a round room, painted in soft shades of red. On the walls were weapons of every kind, artistically displayed — bows, spears, pistols and rifles, swords and daggers, each of exquisite workmanship.

The grey-haired woman sat at an oval table upon which was a joint of red meat, charred on the outside but raw at the centre. Batik moved to the table and picked up a silver carving knife.

'Where is Shannow?' he asked, carving thick slices of the succulent meat.

'He is close, Batik.'

'A pleasant room,' said the Hellborn, indicating the weapons.

'Do they relax you?'

He shrugged. 'It reminds me of my home.'

The room bordering the garden of vines?'

'Yes. How did you know?'

'You entertained a friend of mine two years ago.'

'What was his name?'

'Ezra.'

'I know no one of that name.'

'He climbed the wall of your garden while being hunted. He hid among your vines, and when the searchers came you told them no one was there and sent them away.'

'I remember. A little man with frightened eyes.'

'Yes. A man of great courage, for he knew great fear.'

'What happened to him?'

'He was caught three months later and burned alive.'

'There has been a lot of that lately. He worshipped the old dark god, I take it?'

'Yes.'

The Hellborn will stamp out the sect.'

'Perhaps, Batik. But why did you help him?'

'I am not a religious man.'

'What are you?'

'Just a man.'

'You know that if you stay with Shannow you could die.'

'We are parting company soon.'

'And yet without you he will fail.'

Batik lifted a goblet filled with red wine and drained it. 'What are you trying to tell me?'

'Do you feel you owe Shannow a debt?'

‘For what?'

‘For saving your life?'

'No.'

'Would you call yourself his friend?'

'Perhaps.'

‘Then you like him?'

Batik did not reply. 'Who are you, woman?' he asked at last.

'I am Ruth.'

'Why did the riders not see us?'

'No evil may enter here.'

‘I am here!'

'You saved Ezra.'

'Shannow is here.'

'He seeks Jerusalem.'

'What is this place?'

‘For you, Batik, it is Alpha or Omega. A beginning or an end.'

'A beginning of what? An ending to what?'

‘That is for you to decide. The choices are yours.'

Selah ran up the stairs after his friends and entered a small room. The grey-haired woman smiled and opened her arms.

'Welcome home, Selah.'

And joy flooded him.

The following morning Ruth led Shannow into a long hall, past trestle tables set for breakfast and on into a circular library with shelf upon shelf of books from floor to domed ceiling. At the centre of the room was a round table and the elderly woman sat, gesturing for Shannow to sit beside her.

'Everything you ever wanted to know is here, Mr Shannow, but you must decide what to look for.'

His eyes scanned the books and an edge of fear touched him, bringing a shiver.

'Are they all true books?' he asked.

'No. Some are fictions. Some are theories. Others are partly true, or close to the truth. Most point a way to the truth for those with eyes to see.'

‘I just want the truth.'

'Placed in your hand like a pearl, unblemished and perfect?'

'Yes.'

'No wonder you need Jerusalem.'

'Do you mock me, Lady?'

'No, Mr Shannow. Everything we do here is to instruct and to help. This room was made for you, created for you. It did not exist before you entered it, and will cease to exist when you leave it.'

'How long may I stay here?'

'One hour.'

'I cannot read all these books in an hour.'

That is true.'

'Then why go to all this trouble? How can I use all this knowledge if I have no time?'

Ruth leaned towards him, taking his hand. 'We did not create this to torment you, Jon. Far too much effort went into it for that. Sit and think for a while. Be at ease.'