Jerusalem Man 02 - The Last Guardian by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online

pondering the problem. Perhaps the caps were old and the woman - for he knew now there was no man with them -had doubted their effectiveness. But if the caps were old, then so would be the wads and charges and these had not been stripped clear. He read the track signs once more, but could make no more of them - save that one of the horsemen had ridden to the right of the main group, or had left at a different time.
    Shannow walked out along the trail and a hundred paces from the camp he saw a hoofprint from the lone horse which had overstamped a previous print. So then, the lone rider had left after the main group. He had obviously sat talking with the woman. Why did they not all stay?
    He prepared himself some tea, and ate the last of the fruit from Shir-ran's store. As he delved at the bottom of the sack his fingers touched something cold and metallic and he drew it out. It was like a coin, but made of gold, and upon the surface was a raised motif that Shannow could not make out in the gathering dusk. He tucked the coin into his pocket and settled down beside the fire. But the tracks had disturbed him and sleep would not come; the moon was bright and he rose, saddled the stallion and rode off after the horsemen.

    When he came to their camp-site they were gone, but a man lay with his head in the ashes of a dead fire, his face burned. He had been shot several times and his boots and gun were missing, though the belt and scabbard remained. Shannow was about to return to his horse when he heard a groan. He could hardly believe life still survived in that ruined body. Unhooking his canteen from the saddle, he knelt by the man, lifting the burnt head.
    The man's eyes opened. 'They gone after the woman,' he whispered. Shannow held the canteen to his lips, but he choked and could not swallow. He said no more and Shannow waited for the inevitable. The man died within minutes.
    Something glinted to Shannow's right. Under a bush, where it must have fallen, lay the man's gun. Shannow retrieved it. The caps had been removed; he had no chance to defend himself against the attack. Shannow pondered the evidence. The men were obviously brigands who had shot down one of their own. Why? Over the woman? But they had all been at the camp. Why leave?
    A group of men had come across a woman and two children by a wagon with a broken wheel.
    They had mended the wheel and left - save one, who followed after. His pistol had been tampered with. But then surely he would have known that? When he arrived his ... friends?... had shot him.
    Then they had headed back to the woman. There was no sense in it... unless he had stopped them from taking the woman in the first place. But then, why would he unload his gun before returning?
    There was only one way to find out.
    Shannow stepped into the saddle and searched for the tracks.

*
    'Why did God kill my Dad?' asked Samuel, as he dipped his flat baked bread in the last of his broth. Beth put aside her own plate and looked across the camp-fire at the boy, his face white in the moonlight, his blond hair shining like silver threads.
    'God didn't kill him, Sam. The Red Fever done that.'
    'But the Preacher used to say that nobody died unless God wanted them to. Then they went to Heaven or Hell.'
    'That's what the Preacher believes,' she said slowly, 'but it don't necessarily mean it's true. The Preacher used to say that Holy Jesus died less than four hundred years ago, and then the world toppled. But your Dad didn't believe that, did he? He said there were thousands of years between then and now. You remember?'
    'Maybe that's why God killed him,' said Samuel, "cos he didn't believe the Preacher.'
    'Ain't nothin' in life that easy,' Beth told him. 'There's wicked men that God don't kill, and there's good men -like your Pa - who die out of their time. That's just life, Samuel; it don't come with no promises.'
    Mary, who had said nothing throughout, cleared away the dishes, carrying them beyond the camp-site and