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'Honest? To a Hellborn? What do you know of honesty? Or love, or compassion? You were raised under Satan and you have drunk the blood of innocence. Reasons? Why does a fanner weed his land, or hunt wolves and lions? I hunt the wolves among men.'

'God's gardener?' sneered Batik. 'A sorry mess he must be in if you are all the force he can muster in this broken world.'

Shannow's hand flashed down and up and Batik found himself staring into the black, unwavering muzzle of a Hellborn revolver. He looked up into Shannow's eyes and saw the edge of madness lurking there.

'Insult me if you will,' hissed Shannow, 'but you will not denigrate my God. This is the only warning I give. Your next foulness will be your last.'

Batik grinned wolfishly. 'That's good, Shannow. That's very Hellborn — those who disagree with you die!'

Shannow blinked and uncocked the pistol. 'That is not the way I am,' he whispered, slumping down to sit beside Batik. 'I am not good in debate. My tongue stumbles into my teeth, and then I get angry. I am trapped, Batik, in a religion I can scarcely comprehend. In the Bible there are many passages I can follow, yet I am not a Christian. My Bible teaches me to smite the enemy hip and thigh, destroy him with fire and sword… it also teaches me to love my enemy and do good to him who hates me.'

'No wonder you are confused,' said Batik. 'But then I have long considered the possibility that Man is essentially insane. I believe in no god, and I am happier for it. I don't want eternal life. I want a little joy, a large amount of pleasure and a swift death once I lose the appetite for either.'

Shannow chuckled and his tension passed. 'I wish I could share that philosophy.'

'You can, Shannow; there is no charge.'

Shannow shook his head and looked towards the mountains.

'I shall go there,' he said, 'and then head west.'

‘I’ll stay with you as far as the mountains, then I head east.'

'You think that will take you out of reach of the Zealots?'

Before Batik could answer, the bushes to their left parted and a huge brown bear moved into the open. He saw the men sitting there and rose up on his hind legs, towering to almost eight feet. For some seconds he stood there, then he dropped to all fours and ambled away.

The two men sheathed their pistols.

'You are never out of reach of the Zealots, Shannow,' said Batik. Shannow let out a long juddering breath.

'I felt sure that they had possessed it.'

'Next time they probably will,' Batik assured him.

CHAPTER SIX

Con Griffin was troubled. For most of the day he had worked hard on the new house, laying the foundation wall with care and measuring logs to interlace at the corners. Yet all the while he worked his eyes would flick to the skyline and the eternal watchers.

Since the first attack there had been no fresh violence — far from it, in fact. The following day six riders had approached the settlement. Once more Griffin had walked to meet them, covered by Madden and Burke, Mahler and five other men sporting rifles and guns taken from the dead raiders. The bodies had been removed to a field in the east and hastily buried.

The riders had entered the settlement without apparent fear and their leader, a slim young man with bright grey eyes, had approached Griffin smiling warmly.

'Good morning, my name is Zedeki.' He extended a hand. Griffin took it and engaged in a short perfunctory handshake.

'Griffin.'

'You are the leader here?'

Griffin shrugged. 'We don't think of ourselves as needing leaders. We are a group of farming men.'

Zedeki nodded and smiled. 'Yes, I understand. However, you do speak for the community, yes?'

'Yes.'

'Good. You were attacked last night by a group of renegades from our lands and this grieves us greatly. We apprehended the survivors, who were put to death immediately. We have come to offer our apologies for the incident.'

'No need for that,' Griffin told him. 'We dealt with it at no loss to ourselves, and gained greatly by it.'

'You speak of the weapons,' said Zedeki. 'In fact they were stolen from our city and we would like them returned.'

That is understandable,' said Griffin smoothly.

Then you agree?'

'With the principle, yes. Stolen property should be returned to its owners.'

Then we may take them?'

'Unfortunately there are other principles that must also be considered,' stated Griffin. 'But perhaps we could sit down and take refreshment?'

Thank you.'

Griffin sat down on a felled tree and beckoned Zedeki to join him. The two men sat in silence for some minutes as Donna and two other women brought copper mugs filled with honey-sweetened herb tea. The other riders did not dismount, and looked to Zedeki before accepting refreshment.

'You mentioned other principles?' said Zedeki.

'Indeed I did, old lad. You see, where we come from there is a custom which says the spoils of war belong to the victor. Therefore most of the men here feel they have earned their new weapons. Secondly, there is the question of reparation. These raiders were your people — unless they also stole the clothes they were wearing. Therefore my people might feel entitled to some compensation for the terror inflicted on their wives and children, not to mention the cost of the operation in terms of spent ammunition and hard work preparing the tripwires and other devices which happily were not needed.'

'So, you are saying that our property will not be returned?'

'No, not at all, Zedeki. I am merely outlining possible objections to such a move. Not being the leader, I can make no prediction as to their individual reaction.'

Then what are you saying?'

'I am saying that life is rarely simple. We like to be good neighbours, and we are hoping that we can trade with people living nearby. However, so far we have had few dealings with your people, so perhaps we should both sit back and study each other's customs for a while.' 'And then the weapons will be returned?' 'And then we will talk some more,' said Griffin, smiling. 'Mr Griffin, my people outnumber yours by perhaps a thousand to one. We are unaccustomed to being refused our desires.'

'But then I have not refused, Mr Zedeki. That would be presumptuous.'

Zedeki drained his tea and looked around the settlement. His soldier's eye took in the placements of some twenty felled trees which scattered the open ground. Each was positioned to provide cover for marksmen and planned in such a way that any raiding force, no matter from which direction they attacked, would come under a murderous cross-fire while their enemy would be firing from good cover.

'Did you organize these defensive positions?' asked Zedeki.

'No,' said Griffin. ‘I’m just a humble wagon-master. We have several men here skilled in such matters, having dealt with all kinds of Brigands.'

'Well, let me thank you for your hospitality, Mr Griffin. I. wonder if you would care to join me at my home? It is not a long ride, and perhaps we could discuss further the principles involved?'

Griffin's eyes narrowed, but he smiled with apparent warmth. 'That is indeed kind of you, and I am pleased to accept — but not at the moment. As you can see, we are currently building our own homes and it would be impolite of me to accept your hospitality without being able to respond in kind. You see, it is one of our customs — we always respond in kind.'

Zedeki nodded and stood. 'Very well. I will return when you are more. . settled.'

'You will be welcome.'

Zedeki stepped into the saddle. 'When I return, I will be demanding our property.'

'New friends should not speak in terms of demands,' replied Griffin. 'If you return peacefully, we can negotiate. If not, then some of your property will be returned to you at a speed you might not appreciate.'