Part 86 (1/2)

A bullet whipped by Shannow's face, so close he felt its pa.s.sing, the sound ringing in his ears like an angry bee. Twisting, he triggered both pistols and a rifleman was punched from his feet.

Two horses were standing close by. Shannow strode to the first and vaulted to the saddle.

A man reared up from the undergrowth. Shannow shot him twice; then kicking the animal into a run, he headed east, reloading his pistols as the horse thundered across the plain.

Anger was strong upon him now, a deep, boiling rage that threatened to engulf him. He did nothing to quell it.

Always it was the same, the evil strong preying on the weak, violence and death, l.u.s.t and destruction. When will it end, he wondered? Dear G.o.d, when will it end?

The full moon bathed the land in silver, and in the distance the red of fire could be seen as one of the wagons blazed. The firing was sporadic now, but at least it suggested that some of the Wanderers were still fighting.

Closer still he came, and saw five men kneeling behind a group of boulders; one of them had long white hair. A rifleman rose up, aiming at the wagons. Shannow loosed a shot which missed the man but ricocheted from the boulder, making the rifleman jerk back.

The white-haired Oath Taker swung round, saw Shannow and began to run. Ignoring him, Shannow trained his guns on the riflemen.

'Put down your weapons,' he ordered them. 'Do it now - or die!'

Three of the four remaining men did exactly as they were told, then raised their hands, but the last - the thick-set man he had spoken to earlier - suddenly swung his rifle to bear.

Shannow put a bullet into his brain.

'Jeremiah! It's me, Shannow,' shouted the Jerusalem Man. 'Can you hear me?'

'He's been shot,' came the answering call. 'We've wounded here -three dead, two badly hit.'

Gesturing to the captured men, Shannow ordered them towards the wagons. Once inside he gazed around. The pregnant Clara was dead, half her head blown away. A burly man named Chalmers was lying beside her. By Jeremiah's wagon lay the body of a child in a faded blue dress: one of Clara's two daughters. Shannow dismounted and moved to where Dr Meredith was kneeling beside the wounded Jeremiah. The old man had taken two shots, one to the upper chest and a second to the thigh. His face was grey in the moonlight.

'I'll live,' the old man whispered.

The wagons had been formed into a rough circle, and several of the horses were down. Isis and two of the men were battling to put out a fire in the last wagon. Guns in hand, Shannow strode back to the captured men, who were standing together at the centre of the camp.

'The bellows are burned, the land is consumed of the fire; the founder melteth in vain, for the wicked are not plucked away.' His guns levelled and he eased back the hammers.

'Shannow, no!' screamed Jeremiah. 'Let them be! Christ, man, there's been enough killing already.'

Shannow took a deep, slow breath, 'Help put out the fire,' he ordered the men. They obeyed him instantly, and without another word he walked to his horse and stepped into the saddle.

'Where are you going?' called Dr Meredith.

Shannow did not answer.

Aaron Crane and the survivors of the raid galloped into Purity and drew up before the long stone meeting-hall. Crane, dust-covered and dishevelled, dismounted and ran inside. The hall was crowded, the prayer meeting under way. On the dais Padlock Wheeler was reaching the midpoint in his sermon', concerning the path of the righteous. He stopped as he saw Crane and inwardly he groaned, but it was not wise to incur the wrath of the Oath Taker. The black-bearded minister fell silent for a moment, then forced a smile.

'You seem distraught, brother,' he said. Heads turned then, among them Captain Seth Wheeler and the twelve men of Purity's Crusaders. Crane drew himself up and ran a slender hand through his long white hair.

The forces of the Devil have been turned against us,' he said. 'The Lord's riders have been cut down.'

There was a gasp from the congregation and several of the women began to shout out questions concerning the fate of their husbands, brothers, or sons.

'Silence!' thundered Padlock Wheeler. 'Let the Oath Taker speak.'

'As you all know,' said Crane, 'we came upon a band of pagan Wanderers. With them was a demonic force: I recognised the power of Satan instantly. We tried, in vain, to overcome it.

Many are dead. A few of us escaped, through the intervention of the Lord. We must have more men! I demand that the Crusaders ride out after these devils!'

Padlock Wheeler glanced down at his brother Seth. The captain rose from his seat. He was a tall, slim man with a long face and a dour expression. 'Let the women go to their homes,'

he said. 'We'll discuss what's to be done.'

'Where's my boy?' screamed a woman, rus.h.i.+ng at Crane. 'Where is Lemuel?'

'I fear he perished,' Crane told her, 'but he died in the Lord's work.' The woman's hand snaked out to slash across Crane's cheek. Two other women grabbed her, hauling her back.

'Stop this!' thundered Padlock Wheeler. This is a house of G.o.d!' The commotion died instantly. Slowly the women filed from the hall, the men gathering around Crane.

Seth Wheeler moved forward. Tell us of this demon,' he ordered Crane.

'It is in the guise of a man, but it is Satan-inspired. He is a killer. A terrible killer!' Crane s.h.i.+vered. 'He cast a spell upon me that took all the power I had to overcome.'

'How many are dead?' asked the Crusader captain.

'I don't know. We advanced on two fronts. The killer was waiting in the east and shot down four men: La.s.siter, Pope, Carter and Lowris. Then he rode west and slew . . . everyone but me. I managed to escape.'

'You ran?'

'What else could I do?'

Seth Wheeler glanced at the men gathered in the hall. There were some twenty in all, plus his twelve Crusaders. 'How many Wanderers were there?'

'Eleven wagons,' Crane told him. 'Perhaps thirty people. They must be destroyed. Utterly destroyed!'

Still on the dais, Padlock Wheeler saw the door at the back of the hall open, and a tall man step inside. Dressed in a dust-stained black coat, patched on the left arm, he wore two long guns.

'Where are the lawmakers of this community?' he said - his voice, though not loud, cutting through the conversation at the centre of the hall.

Crane saw him and screamed. 'It's him! It's the Devil!' Backing away, the white-haired Oath Taker ducked down behind a line of benches.

This is a house of the Lord,' said Padlock Wheeler. 'What do you want here?'

'Justice,' answered the man. 'You are sheltering a murderer, a killer of women and children.'

'He tells it differently,' said Padlock. 'He claims you are demon-possessed.'

The newcomer shook his head. Twenty miles from here they are burying a woman named Clara. She was pregnant; half her head was shot away. They will bury one of her daughters beside her. The man Crane rode up to the wagons yesterday and demanded to hear Psalm 22. I gave him to understand that I knew it. As indeed I do. But he is an evil man, and was determined upon murder. So tell me this: How will you judge him?'

Padlock looked down at where Crane was cowering. The minister felt exultant. All along he had believed Crane to be a dangerous man, and this was the opportunity to bring him down. He would ask Seth for an inquiry, and he had no doubt that the Oath Taker would be shown to be a lawbreaker. But just as he was about to speak he saw Crane draw a pistol from his belt and c.o.c.k it.