Read Online Jerusalem Man 02 - The Last Guardian by David Gemmell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David Gemmell
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sleep.'
The morning sky was grey and rain on his face woke Shannow soon after dawn. He rose from his blankets and rolled them into a tight bundle, tying them with strips of oiled hide. Then he put on his heavy, double-shouldered topcoat and saddled the stallion. Two men came walking towards him through the misty rain and Shannow turned and waited.
'Looks like you beat us to it,' said the first, a broad-shouldered man with a gaping gap where his front teeth should have been. His comrade was shorter and more lean; both were wearing pistols.
'Well, don't let us stop you,' continued the big man. 'Be on your way.'
Shannow remained silent.
'Are you deficient in the hearing?' the second man asked. 'You are not wanted here.'
A small crowd had gathered in the background and Shannow caught sight of Haimut and Klaus Monet. Of Deiker there was no sign.
'That's it, let's help him on his way,' said the big man, stepping in; but Shannow's hand shot up with fingers extended, and hammered into his throat. He fell back choking, then sank to his knees. Shannow's eyes fixed on the second man.
'Be so kind as to tie my blanket roll to my saddle,' he said softly.
The man swallowed hard and licked his lips, his hand hovering over the pistol butt.
'Today,' stated Shannow, 'is not a good day to die. A man should at least see the sun in the heavens.'
For several seconds the man stood tense; then he cast a nervous glance at his comrade who was kneeling and holding his throat, his breathing hoarse and ragged. He knew he should grab for his pistol, but could not make his hand obey him. His eyes flicked up to meet Shannow's.
'Damn you!' he whispered. His hand fell away from the gun and he moved to the blanket roll, swinging it over the back of the saddle and tying it into place.
'Thank you,' said Shannow. 'And now see to your friend.' He stepped into the saddle and swung the stallion towards the norm. The crowd parted and he resisted the urge to glance back. Now was the moment of greatest danger. But there was no shot. He angled the stallion down to where Frey McAdam's wagon had been camped; it was gone.
Shannow was angry with himself. There was no need to have shamed the men Deiker had obviously sent to see him on his way. He should have mounted and left as they had asked him.
Only pride had prevented him from doing just that, and pride was a sin in the eyes of the Almighty.
That is why you cannot find Jerusalem, Shannow, he told himself. Your sins burden you down.
There is no Jerusalem!
The thought leapt unbidden to his mind and he shivered. He had seen sb much in these last few years and his doubts were many. But what choice do I have, he wondered. If there is no Jerusalem, then all is in vain. And so the search must go on. For what purpose? For me! For as long as I search, then Jerusalem exists - if only in my mind. And that is chough. I need no more.
You lie, Shannow! Yes, yes, I lie. But what does that prove? I must search. I must know. Where next mil you search? Beyond the Great Wall. And if not there? To the ends of the earth and the borders of Hell!
Coming to the top of the rise, he turned west seeking the pass through the mountains. He rode the deer trails for more than two hours before joining the main track, which was scarred by the rims of wagon wheels and the hooves of many horses. The rain had ceased and the sun broke clear-of the clouds. He rode more warily now, halting often and studying his surroundings. With the sun at its height he stopped and rested in the shadow of a looming natural pillar of stone. It was cool here and he read his Bible for an hour, enjoying the Song of Solomon. By mid-afternoon the Jerusalem Man had passed the mountains and was following a narrow track down into the valley beyond.
To the west he could see the McAdam wagon, following the wider trail which led into the town.
To the north, beyond the buildings, the valley stretched for miles, ending in a huge wall that vanished into the distance.
The morning sky was grey and rain on his face woke Shannow soon after dawn. He rose from his blankets and rolled them into a tight bundle, tying them with strips of oiled hide. Then he put on his heavy, double-shouldered topcoat and saddled the stallion. Two men came walking towards him through the misty rain and Shannow turned and waited.
'Looks like you beat us to it,' said the first, a broad-shouldered man with a gaping gap where his front teeth should have been. His comrade was shorter and more lean; both were wearing pistols.
'Well, don't let us stop you,' continued the big man. 'Be on your way.'
Shannow remained silent.
'Are you deficient in the hearing?' the second man asked. 'You are not wanted here.'
A small crowd had gathered in the background and Shannow caught sight of Haimut and Klaus Monet. Of Deiker there was no sign.
'That's it, let's help him on his way,' said the big man, stepping in; but Shannow's hand shot up with fingers extended, and hammered into his throat. He fell back choking, then sank to his knees. Shannow's eyes fixed on the second man.
'Be so kind as to tie my blanket roll to my saddle,' he said softly.
The man swallowed hard and licked his lips, his hand hovering over the pistol butt.
'Today,' stated Shannow, 'is not a good day to die. A man should at least see the sun in the heavens.'
For several seconds the man stood tense; then he cast a nervous glance at his comrade who was kneeling and holding his throat, his breathing hoarse and ragged. He knew he should grab for his pistol, but could not make his hand obey him. His eyes flicked up to meet Shannow's.
'Damn you!' he whispered. His hand fell away from the gun and he moved to the blanket roll, swinging it over the back of the saddle and tying it into place.
'Thank you,' said Shannow. 'And now see to your friend.' He stepped into the saddle and swung the stallion towards the norm. The crowd parted and he resisted the urge to glance back. Now was the moment of greatest danger. But there was no shot. He angled the stallion down to where Frey McAdam's wagon had been camped; it was gone.
Shannow was angry with himself. There was no need to have shamed the men Deiker had obviously sent to see him on his way. He should have mounted and left as they had asked him.
Only pride had prevented him from doing just that, and pride was a sin in the eyes of the Almighty.
That is why you cannot find Jerusalem, Shannow, he told himself. Your sins burden you down.
There is no Jerusalem!
The thought leapt unbidden to his mind and he shivered. He had seen sb much in these last few years and his doubts were many. But what choice do I have, he wondered. If there is no Jerusalem, then all is in vain. And so the search must go on. For what purpose? For me! For as long as I search, then Jerusalem exists - if only in my mind. And that is chough. I need no more.
You lie, Shannow! Yes, yes, I lie. But what does that prove? I must search. I must know. Where next mil you search? Beyond the Great Wall. And if not there? To the ends of the earth and the borders of Hell!
Coming to the top of the rise, he turned west seeking the pass through the mountains. He rode the deer trails for more than two hours before joining the main track, which was scarred by the rims of wagon wheels and the hooves of many horses. The rain had ceased and the sun broke clear-of the clouds. He rode more warily now, halting often and studying his surroundings. With the sun at its height he stopped and rested in the shadow of a looming natural pillar of stone. It was cool here and he read his Bible for an hour, enjoying the Song of Solomon. By mid-afternoon the Jerusalem Man had passed the mountains and was following a narrow track down into the valley beyond.
To the west he could see the McAdam wagon, following the wider trail which led into the town.
To the north, beyond the buildings, the valley stretched for miles, ending in a huge wall that vanished into the distance.
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