Stones Of Power - The Complete Chronicles Of The Jerusalem Man Part 23

'Which are?'

The re-establishment of a just society - a civilization, Mr Shannow, where men and women can live together in harmony and love without fear of Brigands or h.e.l.lborn.'

'Is such a thing possible?'

'Of course not, but we must strive for it.'

'What is your name?'

'Samuel Archer.'

Batik returned with an armful of dried wood, complaining that he had had to ride from the city to find it. As the fire crackled to life, Shannow asked the black man about the statue.

'I have studied this city for about eighteen years,' said Archer. 'There are some remarkable writings inscribed on gold foil; it took four years of effort to translate. It appears that old man was Paciades, the uncle of one of the kings. He was an astronomer - a student of the stars - and through his work people knew exactly when to plant for the best harvests. He also discovered the instability of the earth, though he didn't understand the awesome significance for his world.'

'Did he live to see the end?'

'I have no idea. His death is not recorded anywhere that I have found.'

'When was the city destroyed?' asked Batik.

'About eight thousand years ago.'

Then for some seven and a half thousand years this was ocean?'

'True, Batik. The world is much changed.'

'What was this city?'

'My research shows it was called Balacris. It is one of supposedly thirty cities that made up the nation of Atlantis.'

Batik fell asleep long before midnight and Shannow and Archer walked together along the statue-lined avenues of Balacris.

'I often come here,' said Archer. There is a tremendous sense of peace to be found in a dead city. And often the ghosts of previous times join me on my walks.'

He glanced at Shannow and grinned. 'Do you think me mad?'

Shannow shrugged. 'I have never seen a ghost, Mr Archer, but I have no reason to doubt their existence. Do you speak with them?'

'I tried when I first saw them, but they do not see me. I do not believe they are spirits at all; they are images, much as the one you and Batik saw this afternoon. This is a magic land, Mr Shannow. Come, I will show you.'

Archer led the way up a winding hill and down into a bowl-shaped hollow where great stones had been raised in a circle around a flat altar. The stones were black, and towered over twenty feet high. Each was six feet square and polished like ebony.

The sea smoothed them for thousands of years. Occasionally you can still see the hairline traces of carved inscriptions,' Archer told him, moving into the circle and stopping by the altar. 'Watch this,' he said, removing a Daniel Stone-the size of a thumbnail from his pocket. Immediately, all around them Shannow saw swirling figures, translucent and shining; women in silken shifts twirled and danced, while men in tunics of many colours crowded between the stones to watch them. 'And this,' said Archer, covering the Stone.

The dancers vanished. He moved the Stone a fraction of an inch and removed his hand; three children appeared, sitting by the altar and playing with knuckle bones. They were oblivious to the visitors. Shannow knelt beside them and reached out but his hand pa.s.sed through them and they disappeared.

Archer returned the Stone to his pocket. Interesting, isn't it?'

'Fascinating,' said Shannow. 'Do you have an explanation?'

'A theory. I have now transcribed some two hundred thousand words of the Rolynd language - that is to say, Atlantean. They called themselves Rolynd - "the People of Heaven" would be a loose translation. I myself prefer "the People of Fable".' Archer sat down on the altar. 'Are you hungry, Mr Shannow?'

'A little.'

'If you could choose an impossible food, what would it be?'

'A rich honeycake. Why do you ask?'

'I ask because I am a showman.' Archer stood and moved out on to the gra.s.s by the altar, stooping to lift a fist-sized rock. He took the Daniel Stone from his pocket and touched it to the rock. Then he handed a honeycake to Shannow.

'Is it real?'

Taste it.'

There is trickery though, yes?'

Taste it, Mr Shannow.' Shannow bit into the cake and it was soft and honey-filled.

'How? Tell me how?'

Archer returned to the altar. The People of Fable,- they had a power source unlike any other. I don't know how they came upon it, or whether they created it, but the Stones were the secret of Atlantean culture and with them they could create anything the mind could conceive. When you were a child, Mr Shannow, did your mother tell you stories of magical swords, winged horses, sorcerers?'

'No, but I've heard them since.'

'Well, Atlantis is where all fables begin. I found an inventory at the palace which listed presents to the king on his one hundred and eighty-fifth birthday. Each of the gifts mentioned Sipstra.s.si - Stones. Swords had Sipstra.s.si set in the handle, a crown with a central Stone for wisdom, armour with a Stone above the heart for invincibility. Their entire society was founded on magic: on Stones that healed, fed and strengthened. One hundred and eighty-five and he still wore armour! Think of it, Shannow.'

'But they did not survive despite all their magic.'

'I am not sure about that either. But that's a story for another day. Let's get some sleep.'

'I am not tired. You go on. I need to think.'

'Of Jerusalem, Mr Shannow?'

'I see Ruth has indeed spoken of me.'

'Did you doubt me?'

'I still do, Mr Archer. But I am not a man of hasty judgement.'

'Because I am black?'

'I will admit that it makes me uneasy.'

'It is merely a pigment in the skin that separates us, Mr Shannow. But may I refer you to your own Bible and the song of Solomon. "I am black but comely, oye daughters of Jerusalem." He was writing of the Queen of Sheba, which was a country in Africa where my ancestors were undoubtedly born,'

'I'll walk back with you,' said Shannow.

At the top of the hill he turned and stared back at the ring of black stones, remembering the words of Karitas. Blood and death fed them. The altar stood stark at the centre of the circle like the pupil of a dark eye.

'Ruth spoke well of you,' said Archer and Shannow swung his gaze from the altar.

'She is a remarkable woman. She showed me my life, though I did not recognize it.'

'How so?'

'She conjured a library all around me, and gave me but a single hour to find the Truth. It was impossible, just as my life is impossible. The truth is all around me, but I don't know where to look and there is so little time to seek it.'

'Surely that is a discovery in itself,' said Archer. Tell me, why did you first decide to seek Jerusalem?'

'It is an act of faith, Mr Archer - no more, no less. No high-blown philosophical reasons. I live by the Bible and to do that a man must believe. Implicitly believe. Seeking Jerusalem is my way of dealing with doubt.'

'Chasing the Grail,' said Archer softly.

'You are the second man to mention this Grail. I hope you are not friends.'

'Who was the first?'

'Abaddon.'

Archer stopped walking and turned towards Shannow. 'You have met the Satanlord?'

'In a dream. He taunted me with Galahad.'

'Do not let it concern you, Mr Shannow. There are worse things to be than a knight in search of the truth. I would imagine Abaddon envies you.'

'There is little to envy.'

'If that were really true, I would not have sought you out - nor would Ruth have asked me to.'

'I could not see the buildings of Sanctuary.'

'Nor I,' said Archer ruefully. 'There is great power there . . . awesome. Ruth can turn energy to matter - and without a Stone. I sometimes think she is on the verge of immortality.'

'How did she become so powerful?' asked Shannow.

'She claims, and I have no reason to doubt her, that the clue is in the Bible. Non-use of power makes you stronger.'

'In what way?'

'It's hard to explain, but it goes something like this: If a man strikes you on the right cheek, your desire is to strike back. Marshalling that desire and holding it in check makes you stronger.

Think of it in these terms: You have an empty jug. Each time you get angry, or feel violent or emotional, the jug gains water. If you vent your anger, the water disappears. The more you control your feelings, the more full the jug.

When the jug is full you have power - all the power you did not use when first you felt the need to strike back. Ruth is very old and has been practising this art for many years. Her jug is now like a lake.'

'But you do not quite believe it?' said Shannow.

'Yes and no. I think she has a strong point, but these are the Plague Lands, Mr Shannow, and much happens here that defies rational explanation. This area was once a dumping ground for chemical weapons, weapons so deadly they were sealed in drums and dropped from the decks of ships to harbour their venom on the bottom of the ocean. Added to this, during the Fall there was a great deal of radiation - like a plague, Mr Shannow - which killed whomever it touched. The land was polluted beyond anything you could imagine. It still is. Where we now sit, the radiation level is a hundred times greater than that which would have killed a strong man before the Fall; this in itself has caused mutations in people and animals. There are more ESPers per head of the population than ever there were in the old days. Far to the east there are tribes of people with webbed hands and feet.

To the north there is a people who are covered in hair; their heads are long and wolf-like.

There are even tales of people with wings, but these I have never seen.

'I think Ruth has discovered part of the truth, but her talents have been vastly enhanced by the Plague Lands.

'You mentioned a library. She probably created it just for you - out of thick air, rea.s.sembling molecules to the shape of that which she desired.'

Shannow sat silent for a moment, then he said, 'G.o.d has very little place in your thinking, Mr Archer.'

'I have no idea what G.o.d is. The Bible says he created everything and that includes the Devil. A big mistake! Then he created Man - a bigger mistake. I can't follow someone who makes errors on such a colossal scale.'

'Yet Ruth, with all her power and knowledge, believes,' said Shannow.

'Ruth is almost on the verge of creating a G.o.d,' responded Archer.

To me that is blasphemy.'

Then forgive me, Mr Shannow, and put it down to ignorance.'

'You are not an ignorant man, Mr Archer, and I do not think you are an evil one. Good night to you.'

Archer watched the Jerusalem Man walk back to the palace, then he sat back and let his eyes roam the star-filled sky. Ruth had told him that Shannow was a ha'unted man, and Archer felt the truth of her diagnosis.

Less of a Galahad than a Lancelot, thought Archer. A flawed knight in a flawed world, unstable and yet unyielding.

'Good night, Shannow,' whispered Archer. 'I find no evil in you either.'

Ruth's image flickered in front of him, forming into flesh as she sat beside him.

'Stones into cakes, indeed! You are incorrigible, Samuel.'

He grinned. 'Did you divert the Zealots?'

'Yes. They are riding west, with Shannow and Batik just in sight.'

'You were right, Ruth. He is a good man.'

'He is strong in the broken places,' said Ruth. 'I like him. How is Amaziga?'

'Well, but she nags me constantly.'

'You're a man who needs a strong wife. And how is life at the Ark?'

'You should visit and see for yourself.'

'No, I do not like Sarento ... no, don't tell me again what a good administrator he is. You like him because he shares your fascination for the dead cities.'