The sun sank, and darkness covered Shannow like a blanket. He opened his eyes and was once more within the ruined palace. Batik was preparing a fire. 'You look well rested,' said the h.e.l.lborn.

Shannow rubbed his eyes and threw aside his blankets. 'I think I'll scout for sign of the Zealots.'

'Archer says they headed west.'

'I don't give a d.a.m.n what Archer says!'

'You want company?'

'No.' Shannow tugged on his boots, then hefted his saddle to his shoulder and left the palace. Saddling the gelding, he rode from the city and for three hours scanned the lands bordering the mountains, but there was no trace of the hunters. Confused and uncertain, he returned to the city.

Batik had killed two rabbits, and was roasting them on a spit when Shannow entered the palace. Archer was asleep by the far wall.

'Find anything?'

'No.'

Archer stirred and sat up. 'Welcome' back, Mr Shannow.'

Tell me of Pendarric,' said the Jerusalem Man and Archer's eyes widened.

'You are a man full of surprises. How did you come by the name?'

'What does it matter? Tell me.'

'He was the last recorded King- or at least, the last I have found. It seems he was a warlord.

He extended the Atlantean empire to the edges of South America in the west and up to England in the north; heaven knows how far south he went. Is there a reason for these questions?'

'I am becoming interested in history,' said Shannow, joining Batik at the fire. The h.e.l.lborn sliced some meat from the cindering carca.s.s and placed it on a half-crushed gold plate.

'There you go, Shannow. Now you can eat like a king.'

Archer moved over and sat beside Shannow. Tell me, please, how did you learn of Pendarric?'

'I dreamt the name, and woke up with it on my mind.'

That is a shame; he is my last great mystery. Ruth considers me obsessed.'

Outside the palace the sky darkened and thunder rumbled. The winds picked up and soon lashing rain scoured the dead city.

'Hardly worth travelling today,' observed Batik.

Shannow nodded and turned to Archer. Tell me more about the Sipstra.s.si.'

There is very little of certainty. The name means "Stone from the sky" and the Rolynd took it to be a gift from G.o.d. I've discussed this with my leader, Sarento. He believes it could have been a meteor.'

'Meteor? What's he talking about, Shannow?' asked Batik.

Shannow shrugged. 'Archer has been studying the Stones, the ones you call Satanseeds.

And I've never heard of a meteor either.'

Tut simply,' said Archer, 'it is a giant rock spinning in s.p.a.ce, among the stars if you like.

For whatever reason, it crashed into the earth. Now such a collision would cause an immense explosion, and the Roiynd legend says that the sky was dark as night for three days, and there was no sun or moon. Sarento suggests that the impact would have hurled thousands of tons of dust up into the atmosphere, blocking the sun. The meteor itself would have burst into millions of fragments, and these are the Sipstra.s.si.

'Apart from obvious myths, there is no valid record of the first use of the Stones. Even now, after much research, we understand little about them. With each use their power fades by a fraction, until at last they are merely small rocks. The black veins" within the Stones swell, obliterating the gold; when the Stone becomes black, it is useless.' 'Unless you feed it blood,' put in Shannow. 'I'm not sure that's true, Mr Shannow. Blood-fed Stones become dull red and cannot be used for healing, or the creation of food. Sarento and I carried out experiments using small animals - rabbits, rats and the like. The Stones retain power, but they are altered. My own findings show that Blood Stones have a detrimental effect upon their users. Take the h.e.l.lborn, for example; their ruthlessness grows and their l.u.s.t for blood cannot be sated. Tell me, Batik, when you lost your Stone?'

'How do you know I lost it?'

'Carrying a Satanseed, you would never have been allowed into Sanctuary. So, when you lost the Stone, how did you feel?'

'Angry, frightened. I could not sleep for almost a week.'

'How often did you feed the Stone?'

'Every month, with my own blood.'

'And were I to offer you a Stone now, would you take it?'

'I... yes.'

'And yet you hesitated.'

'I seem to feel more alive without one. But then again, the power . . .'

'Yes, the power. In another year, Batik, if you live that long, you will not hesitate. And that, Mr Shannow, is why I am fascinated by Pendarric. His laws were just in the early years, but he it was who discovered the obscene power of the Blood Stones. And within five years he was a merciless tyrant. But as yet I can find no end to his story. Did he succ.u.mb totally, or did he prevail? Or did the seas wash away all his deeds?'

Shannow was about to answer when he froze. An edge of fear touched him. 'Get away from the fire,' he hissed.

Batik was already moving, but Archer remained. 'What . . . ?'

The door burst open and two Zealots leapt inside, pistols blazing. Shannow dived to his right and rolled, sh.e.l.ls shrieking around him.

Archer disappeared in a plume of red smoke. Another Zealot opened fire from the upper balcony and the sh.e.l.l exploded shards of mosaic from the floor by Shannow's head. His own pistol came up and fired and the Zealot spun from sight.

Batik wounded the nearest Zealot and pinned down the other behind a white statue.

Shannow rolled to his back in an alcove and levelled both pistols at the door to the rear.

The door exploded inwards and three men raced into sight, only to be cut down in the rolling thunder of Shannow's guns. The one remaining Zealot made a run for the door, but was pitched from his feet as Batik's sh.e.l.l smashed a hole in his temple.

Batik reloaded his pistol and crept through the shadows towards the man he had wounded.

'Down!' yelled Shannow and Batik dived to the floor as the Zealot's pistol levelled. The Jerusalem Man fired twice and the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin slumped back. Shannow reloaded his pistols and waited, but only silence surrounded them.

'How the Devil do you do that, Shannow?' asked Batik, moving across the mosaic floor. 'I heard nothing.'

'I used to think it was instinct but now I am not sure. Where is Archer?'

'Here,' said the black man. He was sitting by the fire, staring at a small black pebble in his palm. 'All used up. Shame! I was rather fond of that little Stone.'

'They were supposed to be far from here,' snapped Batik.

'Put not your faith in magic, boy,' Shannow told him, smiling. Together the two men searched the bodies, gathering ammunition while Archer added wood to the blaze. 'I don't think we should stay much longer,' said Shannow. 'I hate to sit here like a target.'

'I'll take you to the Ark,' said Archer. 'You'll be safe there.'

'I need to be heading south-west. To Babylon.'

To kill the Satanlord?'

'Yes.'

'I don't think that's what Ruth has in mind for you.'

'Archer, it doesh't matter what she has in mind; I am not her servant. And despite her beliefs, surely she can see that the world would be a better place without him?'

'Perhaps. But then, in the case of Abaddon, there is a link between them that is stronger than blood.'

'What link?'

'Ruth is Abaddon's wife.'

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Samuel Archer stood in the doorway as the two warriors dragged the corpses out into the open, dumping them by a low wall. There was no dignity in death, he realized, seeing that the dead had fouled themselves and the stench carried even through the rain.

There were some amongst the Guardians who were considered soldiers, men of action. Yet none that Archer could bring to mind could match that chilling quality possessed by the Jerusalem Man. How he had heard the approach of the a.s.sa.s.sins amid a storm baffled Archer. And without the Stone to mask him with invisibility, Archer himself would have died sitting at the fire. Neither Shannow nor Batik had mentioned the plume of red smoke, which Archer had been quite proud of- a distraction for the Zealots, giving the warriors time to react. He decided he would mention it himself when the opportunity arose.

The palace hall smelt of cordite and death and Archer wandered up the long steps to the balcony. There was a pool of blood by the rail, and the black man recalled how Batik had walked here earlier and heaved the body to the stones below where it had landed with a crunching thud.

Shannow came in out of the rain and removed his leather coat. He knelt for a few seconds at the fire, warming his hands, then took his Bible from his saddlebag.

'Clues as to the whereabouts of Jerusalem?' asked Archer, sitting beside him.

'No, I find reading eases my mind.' He shut the Bible. 'I saw Pendarric in a dream last night. He said he caused the world to drown by using Blood Stones and he warned me that it is about to happen again.'

Through the h.e.l.lborn?'

'Yes, I believe so. Do you have anything in the Ark that could help me bring down Abaddon?'

'It's not my field, Mr Shannow. I am a researcher into things arcane. But there are weapons there.'

'And knowledge?'

'Indeed there is knowledge.'

'I will ride with you, Archer. Now leave me to read in peace.'

Archer wandered to the door and looked out into the rain. Batik joined him.

'You can't talk to him when the dark moods are upon him, and for a religious man he is in no hurry to share his G.o.d.'

'He has much on his mind, Batik.'

'I don't care about that, just so long as he hears the killers in the night. He's a remarkable man. All my life I have been taught to fear the Zealots as the greatest warriors hi the world, but they are like children compared with him.'

'Will you stay with him?'

'For a little while, Archer. I have no intention of returning to Babylon and following Shannow as he charges the palace single-handed.'

'A strange att.i.tude for a friend to take?'

'We are not friends, Archer. He has no friends - he does not need friends. Look at him, sitting there like a rock. I am a warrior, yet I am still shaking over the attack. I wonder how many other enemies are closing on us as we speak. Him? He reads his Bible.'

'But if he needed you, would you go?'

'No. What do I care if Abaddon conquers the world? I made one mistake, Archer, when I tried to save my sister. Otherwise I would probably now command a company and be invading the southlands myself.'

'You think he will succeed alone?'

'I don't know. But I tell you this -I would not want him hunting me, even if I sat in a fortress surrounded by guards. There is something inhuman about him; he is unable to recognize impossible odds. You should have seen him when the Zealots attacked just now - he turned and trained his guns on the rear door long before the other three came in. He knew they were coming, but all I could hear was gunfire and all I could see were the men before me. If I was Abaddon, I would not be sleeping well.'

'He does not know Shannow as you do.'

'No, but he will be counting the bodies.'

Archer glanced back. Shannow was no longer reading; his head was on his saddle, his blankets drawn around him, but his right arm was uncovered.

And in his hand was a pistol.

'Fine way to sleep,' said Batik. 'Whatever you do, don't make a sudden noise in the night!'

Shannow was awake and the words of the two men carried to him like whispers on the wind. How little Batik understood him. But then why should he? Shannow had long since learned that in loneliness there is strength. A man who needs to rely on others leaves a gap in his defences. A lonely man sits within walls.

A need for friends? No man could have it all, Shannow knew. It was all a question of balance and Nature was always miserly with gifts. A long time ago, Shannow had known a runner. To maintain his strength, the man forsook all the foods he desired and trained daily. It was so with Shannow the hunter. Alone he was a rock, relying on nothing and no one to defend his back.

For a while he had tasted the other life with Donna. And it was good . . .

Now he was back where he belonged.