Shannow's recovery was painfully slow. The wound in his temple healed within days, but the left side of his face was numb and the strength of his left arm and leg had been halved.

If he tried to walk, his foot dragged and he often stumbled. The fingers of his left hand tingled permanently and he was unable to hold any object for more than a few seconds before the hand would spasm and the fingers open.

Every day for a month Karitas would arrive at Shannow's hut an hour after dawn and ma.s.sage his fingers and arm. Shannow was close to despair. All his life his strength had been with him, and without it he felt defenceless and -worse - useless.

Karitas broached the painful subject at the start of the fifth week. 'Mr Shannow, you are doing yourself no good. Your strength will not return until you find the courage to seek it.'

'I can hardly lift my arm and my leg drags like a rotting tree branch,' said Shannow. 'What do you expect me to do?'

'Fight it, as you fought the Carns. I am not a medical man, Mr Shannow, but I think you have had a mild stroke -a cerebral thrombosis, I believe it used to be called. A blood clot near the brain has affected your left side.'

'How sure are you of this?'

'Reasonably certain; it happened to my father.'

'And he recovered?'

'No, he died. He took to his bed like the weakling he was.'

'How do I fight it?'

'Bear with me, Mr Shannow, and I will show you.'

Each day Karitas sat for hours, pushing the Jerusalem Man through a grueling series of exercises. At first it was merely forcing Shannow to raise his left arm and lower it ten times. Shannow managed six, and the arm rose a bare eight inches. Then Karitas produced a ball of tightly wound hide which he placed in Shannow's left hand. 'Squeeze this one hundred times in the morning, and another hundred times before you sleep.'

'It'll take me all day.'

'Then take all day. But do it!'

Each afternoon, Karitas forced Shannow to accompany him on a walk around the village, a distance of about four hundred paces.

The weeks drifted by and Shannow's improvement was barely perceptible; but Karitas - noting everything - would shout for joy over an extra quarter-inch on an arm raise, offering fulsome congratulations and calling in Selah or Curopet, insisting Shannow repeat the move. This was then greeted by much applause, especially from the maiden Curopet who had, in the words of Karitas, 'taken a shine' to the invalid.

Shannow, while recognizing Karitas' methods, was still lifted by the obvious joy the old man gained from his recovery, and tried harder with each pa.s.sing day.

At night, as he lay on his blankets squeezing the leather ball and counting aloud, his mind would drift to Donna and the convoy. He felt her absence, but he knew that with her talent she could see him every day and would know how hard he was working to be beside her once more.

One morning, as Shannow and Karitas walked round the village, the Jerusalem Man stopped and gazed at the distant hills. The trees were still green, but at the centre was a golden shower that shimmered in the sunlight.

'That is wondrous beautiful,' said Shannow. 'It looks for all the world like a tree of gold coins, just waiting to make a man rich.'

'There are many beautiful things to see during Autumn here,' said Karitas softly.

'Autumn? Yes, I had not thought. I have been here so long.'

'Two months only.'

'I must get away before Winter, or there'll be no tracks to follow.'

'We'll do our best for you, Mr Shannow.'

'Do not misunderstand me, my friend. I am more than grateful to you, but my heart is elsewhere. Have you ever loved a woman?'

'More than one, I'm afraid. But not for thirty years now. Chines had a baby girl last night.

That makes eleven babies this Summer for my little tribe - not bad, eh?'

'Which one is Chines?'

'The tall girl with the birthmark on her temple.'

'Ah yes. Is she all right?'

'Fine. Her husband is disappointed though, he wanted a boy.'

'Your tribe is doing well, Karitas. You are a good leader. How many people are there here?'

'Counting the babes, eighty-seven. No, eighty-eight; I forgot about Dual's boy.'

'A sizable family.'

'It would be bigger, but for the Carns.'

'Do they raid often?'

'No, they have never hit the village. They don't want to drive us away-we are a good source of amus.e.m.e.nt. . .and food. They usually attack our hunting parties.'

'You do not seem to hate them, Karitas. Whenever you mention the Carns, your face reflects regret.'

'They are not responsible for the way they are, Mr Shannow. It was the land. I know you think me a great liar, but when the Carns first came here they were a group of ordinary farming families. Maybe it was the water, or the rocks, or even something in the air -I don't know. But over the years it changed them. It was a gift from my generation; we were always good at lethal gifts.'

'After knowing you for these last months,' said Shannow, 'I cannot understand why you hold to your preposterous tales. I know you are an intelligent man, and you must know that I am not foolish. Why then do you maintain this charade?'

Karitas sat down on the gra.s.s and beckoned Shannow to join him. 'My dear boy, I hold to it because it is true. But let me say that the land may have affected me too - it could all be a dream, a fantasy. I think it is true - my memory tells me it is true - but I could merely be insane. What does it matter?'

'It matters to me, Karitas. I like you; I owe you a debt.'

'You owe me nothing. You saved Selah. One thing does concern me, however, and that is the direction your wagons are taking. You say you were heading north-west?'

'Yes.'

'But was there any intention of turning east?'

'Not that I know of. Why?'

'Probably it is of no matter. It is a strange land, and there are some who live there who would make the Carns seem hospitable.'

'That is as hard to swallow as some of your stories.' The smile left Karitas' face. 'Mr Shannow, there was an old legend when I was a boy concerning a priestess called Ca.s.sandra. She was blessed with the gift of prophecy and always spoke the truth. But she was cursed also, to be believed by no one.'

'I am sorry, my friend. It was thoughtless and rude of me.'

'It is not important, Mr Shannow. Let us resume our walk.'

They continued in silence, which Shannow found uncomfortable.

The day was warm, a bright sun in a blue sky, with only occasional white scudding clouds bringing shade and relief. Shannow felt stronger than he had in weeks. Karitas stopped at a rock pile and hefted a fist-sized stone.

'Take that in your left hand,' he said.

Shannow obeyed.

'Now carry it for a second circuit.'

'I'll never make it all the way,' said Shannow.

'We won't know until we make the attempt,' snapped Karitas. They set off and within a few paces Shannow's left arm began to tremble. Sweat stood out on his forehead, and on the seventeenth step the rock tumbled from his twitching fingers. Karitas took a stick and thrust it into the ground. 'That is your first mark, Mr Shannow. Tomorrow you will go beyond it.'

Shannow rubbed at his arm. 'I have made you angry,' he said.

Karitas turned to him, his eyes gleaming. 'Mr Shannow, you are right. I have lived too long and seen too much, and you have no idea how galling it is to be disbelieved. I'll tell you something else that you will not be able to understand, nor comprehend: I was a computer expert, and I wrote books on programming. That makes me the world's greatest living author, and an expert on a subject that is so totally valueless here as to be obscene. I lived in a world of greed, violence, l.u.s.t and terror. That world died, yet what do I see around me? Exactly the same thing, only on a mercifully smaller scale. Your disbelief hurts me harder than I can say.'

Then let us start afresh, Karitas,' said Shannow, laying his hand on the old man's shoulder.

'You are my friend. I trust you, and no matter what you tell me I swear I will believe it.'

'That is a n.o.ble gesture, Mr Shannow. And it will suffice.'

'So tell me about the dangers in the east.'

'Tonight we will sit by the fire and talk, but for now I have things to do. Walk around the village twice more, Mr Shannow, and when you have your hut in sight, try to run.'

As the old man walked away Curopet approached Shannow, averting her eyes. 'Are you well, Thunder-maker?'

'Better every day, Lady.'

'May I fetch you some water?'

'No. Karitas says I must walk and run.'

'May I walk with you?' Shannow gazed down at her and saw she was blushing.

'Of course; it would be my pleasure.' She was taller than most young women of the village, and her hair was dark and gleamed as if oiled. Her figure was coltish, and she moved with grace and innocent sensuality.

'How long have you known Karitas?' he asked, making conversation.

'He has always been with us. My grandfather told me that Karitas taught him to hunt when he was a boy.'

Shannow stopped. 'Your grandfather? But Karitas himself could not have been very old at that time.'

'Karitas has always been old. He is a G.o.d. My grandfather said that Karitas also trained his grandfather; it is a very special honour to be taught by Karitas.'

'Perhaps there has been more than one Karitas,' suggested Shannow.

'Perhaps,' agreed Curopet. 'Tell me, Lord Thunder-maker, are you allowed to have women?'

'Allowed? No,' said Shannow, reddening. 'It is not permitted.'

'That is sad,' said Curopet. 'Yes.'

'Are you being punished for something?'

'No. I am married, you see. I have a wife.'

'Only one?'

'Yes.'

'But she is not here.' 'No.'

'I am here.'

'I am well aware of that. And I thank you for your . . . kindness,' said Shannow at last.

'Excuse me, I am very tired. I think I will sleep now.'

'But you have not run.'

'Another time.' Shannow stepped into the hut and sat down, feeling both foolish and pleased. He removed his pistols from the saddlebags and cleaned them, checking the caps and replacing them. The guns were the most reliable he had ever known, misfiring only once in twenty. They were well-balanced and reasonably true, if one compensated for the kick on the left-hand pistol. He checked his store of bra.s.s caps and counted them; one hundred and seventy remained. He had enough fulminates for twice that, and black powder to match. Karitas entered as he was replacing his weapons in the saddlebags.

'Black powder was a good propellant,' said the old man. 'But not enough of it burns, and that's why there is so much smoke.'

'I make my own,' said Shannow, 'but the saltpetre is the hardest to find. Sulphur and charcoal are plentiful.'

'How are you faring?'

'Better today. Tomorrow I will run.'

'Curopet told me of your conversation. Do you find it hard to talk to women?'

'Yes,' admitted Shannow.

'Then try to forget that they are women.'

'That is very hard. Curopet is breathtakingly attractive.'

'You should have accepted her offer.'

'Fornication is a sin, Karitas. I carry enough sins already.'