David Gemmell - Wolf in Shadow

Batik swung in the saddle to study the back trail. His eyes widened — just short of the far horizon twelve riders were galloping their horses.

'Shannow!'

'I know,' said the Jerusalem Man. Take the horses into the pass. I'll join you later.'

'What are you going to do?'

Without answering, Shannow slid from the saddle and clambered into the rocks high above the pass.

Batik rode on, leading Shannow's horse. The trail widened into a bowl-shaped valley, edged with forests of spruce and pine. Batik led the horses to a stream and dismounted; Shannow joined him almost an hour later.

'Let's move,' he said and the two men rode across the valley, scattering a herd of heavy-horned buffalo and crossing several small streams before Shannow called a halt. He glanced at the sun, then turned his horse to face the west. Batik joined him, saying nothing. It was obvious that Shannow was listening and concentrating. For some time nothing happened, then a gunshot split the silence. Two more followed. Shannow waited, his hand raised, three fingers extended.

Another shot. Shannow seemed tense. A fifth shot.

That's it,' said Shannow.

'What did you do?'

'I set up tripwires and wedged five Hellborn pistols into rocks overlooking the trail.'

Batik smiled. They'll rue the day they started hunting you, Shannow.'

'No, they'll just get more careful. They underestimated me. Now let's hope they overestimate my talents — it will give us more time.'

'I wonder if we hit any of them,' said Batik.

'Probably one. The other shots might have hit horses. But they'll proceed now with caution. We will ride through every narrow channel we can, whether it be between rocks or trees or bushes.

They will have to stop and check every one for possible ambush and they won't catch us for days.'

'Aren't you overlooking something?'

'Like what?'

'Like we are heading west, back into Hellborn country. They'll have patrols ahead of us.'

'You are learning, Batik. Keep at it.'

Towards dusk Batik spotted some buildings to the north and they swung their horses and cantered down a gentle slope towards them. They were of white stone and spread over three acres. Some were more than single-storey, with outside staircases winding up to crenellated marble towers.

Shannow eased his gun into his hand as they closed on the town. But there was no sign of life.

The streets were cobbled and the iron horseshoes clattered oh the stones.

The moon came out from behind dark clouds, bathing the scene in silver light, and suddenly the town took on a ghostly look. As the two men rode into a central square, Shannow drew rein alongside a statue of an armoured warrior wearing a plumed helmet; his left arm was missing, but in his right he held a short broad-bladed sword.

On the other side of the square was a broad avenue, lined with statues of young women in flowing robes, which led to a low palace with a high oval doorway.

There is no wood anywhere,' said Batik, riding up to the doorway and running his hands over the stone.

Both men dismounted and tethered their horses and Shannow stepped inside the palace. Statues ringed the central hall and moving to each in turn, he studied them. Some were regal women, others young men of lofty bearing. Still more were older men, heavy-bearded and wise. On the far wall, past a raised dais, was a mosaic in bright-coloured stones showing a king in a golden chariot followed by an army of plumed warriors bearing long spears and bows.

'I have never seen clothes like these,' said Batik. The warriors appear to have worn skirts of wood or leather, studded with bronze.'

They could be Israelites,' said Shannow. This might be one of the old cities. But why no wood?'

Batik wandered to another wall, then called Shannow to him. In an alcove, piled against a corner, were crushed goblets and plates of solid gold. Flowing script had been engraved on the goblets, but Shannow could not read it. Near a doorway he found a golden hilt, but with no dagger attached. He pressed his finger inside the hilt and withdrew it; the faintest red stained his skin.

'Rust,' said Shannow. 'No wood, no metal. Only stone.'

'I wonder why no one lives here,' said Batik. 'It wouldn't take much to restore this place.'

'Would you live here?' asked Shannow.

'Well… no. It is a little sinister.'

Shannow nodded. The bright moonlight shone through an upper window in a shaft of silver, illuminating a broad staircase. Climbing it, Shannow found himself in a round room open to the sky. The stars were bright and at the centre of the room, an equal distance apart, were four golden eagles, each flat on one side. Shannow lifted one and a golden screw fell from a small hole hi a wing.

'I think it was a bed ornament,' said Shannow.

The king's bedchamber,' said Batik. 'A little chilly.'

They returned to the main hall and Shannow noticed that Batik was sweating heavily. 'Are you all right?'

'No. My vision keeps blurring and I feel dizzy.'

'Sit down for a moment,' said Shannow. ‘I’ll get some water.'

Leaving Batik, he started to walk towards the horses but missed a step and staggered, his vision misting. Reaching out, he took the arm of a statue and held himself upright. When he looked up into the blank stone eyes, Shannow heard a roaring in his ears. Taking a deep breath he staggered to the doorway, nausea rising to choke him.

He fell heavily on the outer step. Bright sunlight bathed hun and he looked up. People were moving in the square, the men clad in bronze armour and leather kilts, the women in flowing robes of silk or cotton.

Flower-sellers thronged the streets and here and there children gathered to play on the shiny stones. Suddenly the sky darkened, clouds racing across the heavens. The sun flashed away towards the east and in the distance a colossal black wall moved towards the city. Shannow screamed, but no one heard him. The wall advanced, blotting out the sky to thunder across the city. Water filled Shannow's lungs and he clung to the door-posts, choking and dying. .

His eyes opened to the moon and the silent city. Shaking, he rolled to his knees, took the canteen of water from his horse and returned to Batik.

'Did you see it?' asked Batik, his face grey, his eyes haunted.

'The tidal wave?'

'Yes, this whole city was under the sea. That's why there was no wood or metal. And your giant fish — you were right; it was dumped here.'

'Yes.'

'What the Hell is this place, Shannow?'

'I don't know. Karitas said the world was destroyed by the sea. But as you said, where did the sea go? This city must have been under water for centuries for all the wood and metal to disappear.'

There is another thought, Shannow,' said Batik, sitting up. 'If all the world was destroyed by the sea, and yet this city is above the ocean, perhaps there have been two Armageddons?'

'I do not understand you.'

The Fall of the World, Shannow. Perhaps it happened twice?'

That could not be.'

'You told me yourself that Karitas talked about an Ark of Noah; you told me about a great flood which covered the earth. That was before Armageddon.'

Shannow turned away.' "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be, and that which is done is that which shall be done, and there is no new thing under the sun."'

'What is that?'

The words of Solomon. And very soon after that he writes, "There is no remembrance of former things, neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after."'

Batik chuckled and then laughed aloud, the sound echoing hi the dead palace.

'What is amusing you?'

'If I am right, Shannow, it means we are now sitting on what was once die floor of the ocean.'

'I still do not see what is amusing.'