of dust leapt up a foot behind the rock.
Shannow fired once more and the rock split apart. He was impressed, though he tried not to show it.
'My own pistols could duplicate the accuracy.'
'I don't doubt it, but the Browning can be loaded with nine shells in less than ten seconds.'
'And you say the Hellborn have these?'
'No, thank God. They have revolvers, copies of the Adams and some Remington replicas. But their craftsmen have evolved the weapons; their level of technology is fairly high.'
'Well, they are a problem for another day,' said Shannow. 'But tell me of Noah's Ark - or is that another joke?'
'Not at all. We will see it in the Spring, with the Guardians' permission.' 'I will not be here in the Spring, Karitas.' The old man moved forward and retrieved his pistol. He uncocked it and slid it back into his shoulder holster. 'You are recovering well, but you are not yet strong enough to ride any distance. And there is something else you should know.' Karitas' voice was grave.
'What is it?'
'Let us go to your hut, and I will explain.'
Once inside beside a warm fire, Karitas opened the leather pouch at his hip and produced a round stone which he passed to Shannow. Warm to the touch and gleaming softly gold in the firelight, it was veined with black streaks and highlighted by tiny specks of silver.
'It is a pretty piece,' said Shannow. 'But what do you have to tell me?'
'You are holding your life in your hand, Mr Shannow, for that is a healing Stone and on you it has worked a miracle.'
'I have heard of such. The Daniel Stone?'
'Indeed it is. But its significance to you is very great. You see, Mr Shannow, you are in fact dead.
When Selah brought you to me your skull was smashed. I don't know how you lived as long as you did. But the Stone held you . . . as it still holds you. If you travel out of its influence, you will die.'
Shannow tossed the Stone to Karitas. 'Dead? Then why does my heart beat? Why can I still think and speak?'
'Tell me, Mr Shannow, when you lay in the Fever Hole and your heart stopped, what did you feel?'
'I felt nothing. I dreamed I sat outside the gates of Jerusalem, and they would not let me enter. It was but a dream. I do not believe that I am trapped in this village for ever.'
'Nor are you. But you must trust me, and my knowledge. I will know when you have broken the thread, when you can exist without the Stone. Have faith in me, Jon.'
'But my wife . . .'
'If she loves you she will wait. And you say she has power to see great distances. Build your strength.'
Day by dreary day Shannow worked - chopping wood, carrying water, scything grass for winter feed. And the Autumn passed before the freezing northerly winds piled snow against the huts.
Night after night Shannow sat with Karitas, listening to his tales of the New World's birthing. He no longer knew nor cared if Karitas was telling the truth; the images were too many and too kaleidoscopic to contain. He listened much as he had when his father told stories, his disbelief suspended only for the telling time.
Yet though Karitas maintained he had lived long before the Fall of the world, he would not speak of his society, its laws or its history, refusing to answer any of Shannow's questions. Strangely, Shannow felt, this gave the old man credibility.
'I would like to tell you, Jon, for it is so long since I spoke of the old world. But I have a fear, you see, that one day Man will recreate the horrors of those days. I shall not be a willing party to it.
We were so arrogant. We thought the world was ours, and then one day Nature put us in our place. The world toppled on its axis. Tidal waves consumed vast areas. Cities, countries, vanished beneath the water. Volcanoes erupted, earthquakes tore the world. It's a wonder anyone survived.
'And yet, now I look back, all the clues were there to see -to warn us of impending disaster. All we needed was to be humble enough to look at it without subjectivity. Our own legends told us that
Shannow fired once more and the rock split apart. He was impressed, though he tried not to show it.
'My own pistols could duplicate the accuracy.'
'I don't doubt it, but the Browning can be loaded with nine shells in less than ten seconds.'
'And you say the Hellborn have these?'
'No, thank God. They have revolvers, copies of the Adams and some Remington replicas. But their craftsmen have evolved the weapons; their level of technology is fairly high.'
'Well, they are a problem for another day,' said Shannow. 'But tell me of Noah's Ark - or is that another joke?'
'Not at all. We will see it in the Spring, with the Guardians' permission.' 'I will not be here in the Spring, Karitas.' The old man moved forward and retrieved his pistol. He uncocked it and slid it back into his shoulder holster. 'You are recovering well, but you are not yet strong enough to ride any distance. And there is something else you should know.' Karitas' voice was grave.
'What is it?'
'Let us go to your hut, and I will explain.'
Once inside beside a warm fire, Karitas opened the leather pouch at his hip and produced a round stone which he passed to Shannow. Warm to the touch and gleaming softly gold in the firelight, it was veined with black streaks and highlighted by tiny specks of silver.
'It is a pretty piece,' said Shannow. 'But what do you have to tell me?'
'You are holding your life in your hand, Mr Shannow, for that is a healing Stone and on you it has worked a miracle.'
'I have heard of such. The Daniel Stone?'
'Indeed it is. But its significance to you is very great. You see, Mr Shannow, you are in fact dead.
When Selah brought you to me your skull was smashed. I don't know how you lived as long as you did. But the Stone held you . . . as it still holds you. If you travel out of its influence, you will die.'
Shannow tossed the Stone to Karitas. 'Dead? Then why does my heart beat? Why can I still think and speak?'
'Tell me, Mr Shannow, when you lay in the Fever Hole and your heart stopped, what did you feel?'
'I felt nothing. I dreamed I sat outside the gates of Jerusalem, and they would not let me enter. It was but a dream. I do not believe that I am trapped in this village for ever.'
'Nor are you. But you must trust me, and my knowledge. I will know when you have broken the thread, when you can exist without the Stone. Have faith in me, Jon.'
'But my wife . . .'
'If she loves you she will wait. And you say she has power to see great distances. Build your strength.'
Day by dreary day Shannow worked - chopping wood, carrying water, scything grass for winter feed. And the Autumn passed before the freezing northerly winds piled snow against the huts.
Night after night Shannow sat with Karitas, listening to his tales of the New World's birthing. He no longer knew nor cared if Karitas was telling the truth; the images were too many and too kaleidoscopic to contain. He listened much as he had when his father told stories, his disbelief suspended only for the telling time.
Yet though Karitas maintained he had lived long before the Fall of the world, he would not speak of his society, its laws or its history, refusing to answer any of Shannow's questions. Strangely, Shannow felt, this gave the old man credibility.
'I would like to tell you, Jon, for it is so long since I spoke of the old world. But I have a fear, you see, that one day Man will recreate the horrors of those days. I shall not be a willing party to it.
We were so arrogant. We thought the world was ours, and then one day Nature put us in our place. The world toppled on its axis. Tidal waves consumed vast areas. Cities, countries, vanished beneath the water. Volcanoes erupted, earthquakes tore the world. It's a wonder anyone survived.
'And yet, now I look back, all the clues were there to see -to warn us of impending disaster. All we needed was to be humble enough to look at it without subjectivity. Our own legends told us that
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