don't offer second chances.' The old man had grinned at them and, without another word, had ridden off.
Short on food, and getting colder by the day, the Crusaders had finally found the killer's trail. Tomorrow they would have him.
Seth gathered an armful of sticks and a thick, broken branch and started back towards the fire.
Something cold touched the back of his neck, and an even colder voice spoke. 'You are making a mistake that will lead you to your death.'
The Crusader swallowed hard. His legs felt shaky and the gun-barrel felt icy against his skin. But Seth was no coward, and he gathered himself.
'You are a blasphemer and a killer,' he said.
'Take your men back to Purity,' said the cold voice. 'I do not wish to kill any of you. But if you are on my trail come daylight, none of you will ever see your families again. Had I so chosen, I could have walked into your camp tonight and slain you all. Now go.'
The gun-barrel withdrew. Seth blinked back the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. Strangely he did not feel cold at all. He took a step, then another. Then he dropped the wood, threw aside the blanket, drew his pistol and swivelled.
There was no one there.
For a minute or more he remained where he was. The cold came back into his bones. Sheathing the pistol, he gathered the fallen sticks and returned to the fire, banking it up until the flames were too hot to sit alongside. Returning to his bed-roll he thought of Elizabeth, and his sons Josh and Pad.
One of his men awoke with a cry. 'Hell's bells, Seth, you trying to set us all ablaze?' The edge of the man's blanket was smouldering and he beat at it with his palm.
The commotion woke the others.
'We're going home,' said Seth. 'We've no food and the wild lands are just beyond the ridge.'
'Are you all right, Seth?' asked Sam Drew, his lieutenant.
'Aye. But this man is too much for us, boys. Take my word on it. We'll send word to the Apostle Saul in Pilgrim's Valley. He can order out the Jerusalem Riders. Let them deal with him.'
'This isn't like you, Seth. What changed your mind?'
'It's a funny thing, Sam. A little while ago I was cold and hated it. Now it feels good. It tells me I'm alive.
I'd kind of like to stay that way.'
*
It was near midnight and the main street of Pilgrim's Valley was almost deserted as the five riders made their way to the house behind the Crusader compound. The first of the men, tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a full-length, double-shouldered topcoat, dismounted and turned to the others. 'Get 'em stabled, then get some rest,' he said.
Removing his wide-brimmed leather hat, he climbed the three steps to the porchway of the house and tapped on the front door. It was opened by a young woman in a long white gown. She curtseyed.
'God's greetings, brother,' she said. 'Would you be Jacob Moon?'
'Aye. Where is the Apostle?'
'Would you follow me, sir?'
The dark-haired woman moved along the hallway, then opened a door on the right. Moon stepped past her and into the study beyond where the Apostle Saul was sitting in a wide leather chair, reading a large, gold-edged Bible. Putting it aside, he rose and smiled at the woman. 'That will be all, Ruth.
You may go.' Ruth curtseyed once more and pulled shut the door. 'God's greetings, Jacob.'
'A pox on this religious bullshit,' said Moon. 'It's bad enough having to mouth it when people are around.
Damned if I'll take it in private!'
Saul chuckled. 'You are too impatient, Jacob. It is a bad failing in a man who seeks to rule.'
'I don't want to rule,' said the tall man. 'I just want to be rich. The old fool is dead - just like you ordered.'
Saul's smile faded and his eyes took on a dangerous glint. ‘I chose you because you have talent. But understand this, Jacob, if you become a danger to me I will have you cut down. And nothing is more dangerous than a loose tongue.'
The tall man seemed unfazed by the threat. Tossing his hat to the floor, he removed his topcoat and draped it
Short on food, and getting colder by the day, the Crusaders had finally found the killer's trail. Tomorrow they would have him.
Seth gathered an armful of sticks and a thick, broken branch and started back towards the fire.
Something cold touched the back of his neck, and an even colder voice spoke. 'You are making a mistake that will lead you to your death.'
The Crusader swallowed hard. His legs felt shaky and the gun-barrel felt icy against his skin. But Seth was no coward, and he gathered himself.
'You are a blasphemer and a killer,' he said.
'Take your men back to Purity,' said the cold voice. 'I do not wish to kill any of you. But if you are on my trail come daylight, none of you will ever see your families again. Had I so chosen, I could have walked into your camp tonight and slain you all. Now go.'
The gun-barrel withdrew. Seth blinked back the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. Strangely he did not feel cold at all. He took a step, then another. Then he dropped the wood, threw aside the blanket, drew his pistol and swivelled.
There was no one there.
For a minute or more he remained where he was. The cold came back into his bones. Sheathing the pistol, he gathered the fallen sticks and returned to the fire, banking it up until the flames were too hot to sit alongside. Returning to his bed-roll he thought of Elizabeth, and his sons Josh and Pad.
One of his men awoke with a cry. 'Hell's bells, Seth, you trying to set us all ablaze?' The edge of the man's blanket was smouldering and he beat at it with his palm.
The commotion woke the others.
'We're going home,' said Seth. 'We've no food and the wild lands are just beyond the ridge.'
'Are you all right, Seth?' asked Sam Drew, his lieutenant.
'Aye. But this man is too much for us, boys. Take my word on it. We'll send word to the Apostle Saul in Pilgrim's Valley. He can order out the Jerusalem Riders. Let them deal with him.'
'This isn't like you, Seth. What changed your mind?'
'It's a funny thing, Sam. A little while ago I was cold and hated it. Now it feels good. It tells me I'm alive.
I'd kind of like to stay that way.'
*
It was near midnight and the main street of Pilgrim's Valley was almost deserted as the five riders made their way to the house behind the Crusader compound. The first of the men, tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a full-length, double-shouldered topcoat, dismounted and turned to the others. 'Get 'em stabled, then get some rest,' he said.
Removing his wide-brimmed leather hat, he climbed the three steps to the porchway of the house and tapped on the front door. It was opened by a young woman in a long white gown. She curtseyed.
'God's greetings, brother,' she said. 'Would you be Jacob Moon?'
'Aye. Where is the Apostle?'
'Would you follow me, sir?'
The dark-haired woman moved along the hallway, then opened a door on the right. Moon stepped past her and into the study beyond where the Apostle Saul was sitting in a wide leather chair, reading a large, gold-edged Bible. Putting it aside, he rose and smiled at the woman. 'That will be all, Ruth.
You may go.' Ruth curtseyed once more and pulled shut the door. 'God's greetings, Jacob.'
'A pox on this religious bullshit,' said Moon. 'It's bad enough having to mouth it when people are around.
Damned if I'll take it in private!'
Saul chuckled. 'You are too impatient, Jacob. It is a bad failing in a man who seeks to rule.'
'I don't want to rule,' said the tall man. 'I just want to be rich. The old fool is dead - just like you ordered.'
Saul's smile faded and his eyes took on a dangerous glint. ‘I chose you because you have talent. But understand this, Jacob, if you become a danger to me I will have you cut down. And nothing is more dangerous than a loose tongue.'
The tall man seemed unfazed by the threat. Tossing his hat to the floor, he removed his topcoat and draped it
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