Wolf in Shadow

'Sarento was a man with a dream,' said Shannow. 'He wanted to rebuild the old world — bring back all the cities, restore civilization.'

'That wasn't a dream,' said Ruth. 'It was an obsession. Believe me, Jon, I lived in that old world and I can tell you that there is little I would recreate. For every blessing, there was a curse. For every joy, ten sorrows. Nine-tenths of the world went short of food and everywhere there were wars, plagues, famine and starvation. It was finished before the Fall, but it was taking a long time to die.'

'What will you do now?'

'I will return to Sanctuary.'

'Is Selah well?'

'He is fine. He has~gone now, with all my people, out into the world. I sent him with Clophas; they get on well together.'

'You will be alone in Sanctuary?'

'For a little while.'

'Will I see you again?'

'I think not.' She turned back to the wreck and saw a tiny figure climbing down the mountain.

'One last favour, Jon?'

'Of course.'

That is Sam Archer's wife and son. See them to safety.'

'I will. Farewell, Ruth.'

'God-speed. Seek your city and find your God.'

Shannow grinned. ‘I’ll find it.'

Back in Sanctuary, Ruth lay down on her beloved sofa and drew on all the power she had amassed through the centuries. Her body glowed and grew, absorbing not only all of Sanctuary but continuing to drain the power from every Blood Stone within her considerable reach. As her strength grew, so too did her pain and a war began within her as the might of the Blood Stones met the essence of Sanctuary. Rage welled in her soul and all the forgotten moments of anger, lust and greed flooded her being.

That which had been Ruth Welby pulsed out into the night like a glowing cloud, dispersing into the air, travelling on the currents of the night winds.

For a while Ruth fought to hold a sense of identity within the cloud, battling to subdue the dark power of the Stones, establishing harmony within her strength.

At last she came upon the Hellborn army massing for the final charge against the defenders of Sweetwater. Then she surrendered to infinity, and fell like a rain of golden light upon the valley.

The Hellborn general, Abaal, sat on the grass-covered crest of a hill staring sullenly towards the Sweetwater Pass while below him his army mustered for the charge. For two days now the ferocity of the defence had been weakening as Cade and his men ran short of shells. Yesterday the Hellborn had almost broken through, but Cade had rallied the defenders and Abaal's warriors had been pushed back after fierce hand-to-hand fighting.

Today, Abaal knew, would see an end to resistance. His eyes raked the entrance to the pass where the bodies of men and horses lay bloated in the sunshine — more than a thousand young men who would never return to their homes.

The warmth of the sun made him remove his heavy black top-coat and he lay back on the grass, fixing his gaze on the defenders. The enemy too had lost many men and by rights they should have run. They were hopelessly outnumbered, and victory was not an option they had. Yet they stayed.

Abaal searched for the comfort of his hatred. But it was gone.

How could he hate men and women prepared to die for their homelands?

His aide, Doreval, rode up the crest and dismounted. 'The men are ready, sir.'

'How do they feel about the loss of their Stones?'

There is fear among them, but they are disciplined.'

Abaal gestured the young man to sit beside him. ‘The day has a curious feel to it.'

'In what way, sir?'

'It's hard to explain. Do you hate them, Doreval? The defenders?'

'Of course; they are the enemy.'

'But is your hatred as strong today?'

The young man looked away, his gaze floating over the corpses on the plain. 'Yes,' he said at last.

Abaal caught the lie and ignored it. 'What are you thinking?'

'I was remembering my father, and our parting. As he lay dying, I just sat there thinking about the wealth I would have; how his concubines would be mine. I never thanked him. Such a strange feeling.'

‘Tell me, Doreval, and with truth — do you want to fight today?'

'Yes, sir. It would be an honour to lead the men.'

Abaal looked deeply into the young man's eyes and knew once more that he lied. He could not blame him; the Abaal of yesterday would have killed him for the truth.

‘Tell the men to stand down.'

'Yes, sir,' answered Doreval, unable to keep the relief from his face.

'And fetch me a jug of wine.'

At the entrance to the pass, Cade watched the enemy dismount.

'What they playing at, Daniel?' asked Gambion. Cade shrugged and opened the breech of his pistol; only two shells remained. He closed his eyes and Gambion thought he was praying and moved to one side, but Cade was merely trying to think, to concentrate. He opened his eyes and looked around at the defenders, swallowing hard. They had fought so well.

A long time ago — or so it seemed — Lisa had asked Cade whether he would create an army from lambs. Well, he had — and brave they were! But courage could only carry a man so far. Now they were all to die and Cade realized he did not have the courage to see it. He sheathed his pistol and stood.

'Pass me my stick, Ephram.'

'Where are you going?'

'I'm going to talk to God,' said Cade. Gambion handed him the carved stick and Cade limped out into the entrance of Sweetwater, stopping to look at the Hellborn dead choking the grass. The stench turned his stomach and he walked on.

It was a beautiful day, and even his knee had ceased its throbbing.

'Well, God, seems like we ought to have one real chat before the end. I've got to be honest — I don't really believe in you — but I figure I've nothing to lose by this. If I'm talking to myself, it don't matter. But if you are there, then maybe you'll listen. These people are about to die. That's no big thing — people have been dying for thousands of years

— but my lads are getting ready to die for you. And that should mean something. I may be a false prophet, but they're true believers and I hope they don't get short shrift from you merely because of me. I never was worth much — didn't have the guts to farm and spent my life stealing and the like. No excuses. But take Ephram and the rest and they're worth something more; they really have repented, or whatever the Hell you call it. I've brought them to their deaths and I don't want to think about them lining up, expectant-like outside the gates, only to be told they ain't getting in. That's all I got to say, God.'

As Cade walked on towards the distant Hellborn, he pulled his pistol from his belt and hurled it out on to the grass.

Hearing the sound of movement behind him, he turned and saw Ephram Gambion lumbering towards him, his bald head shining with sweat.

'What did he say, Daniel?'

Cade smiled and patted the giant on the shoulder. 'He let me do the talking this time, Ephram.

You fancy a walk?'

'Where we going?'

‘To the Hellborn.'

'Why?'

Cade ignored the question and limped away. Gambion joined him.

'You still with me, Ephram?'

'Did you ever doubt it?'

'I guess not. Look at that sky. Mackerel-back and streaked with clouds. Hell of a good day to die, I'd say.'

'Is that where we're going? To die?'

'You don't have to come with me; I can do it alone.'

'I know that, Daniel. But we've come this far together so I guess I'll stay awhile yet. You know, we done pretty good against that damned army — not bad for a bunch of Brigands and farmers.' "

‘The best days of my life',' admitted Cade, 'but I should have said goodbye to Lisa.'