Free The Last Guardian by David Gemmell

The woman was at the reins; he could see her honey-blond hair and the flesh of her right leg as it rested against the brake. The children were walking behind, leading the horse. They would be in the town long before Shannow. He studied the buildings below. Most were wood structures—some timber, some log—but three were stone dwellings of several stories, mostly at the eastern end. There appeared to be one main thoroughfare stretching for around four hundred paces, and then, in the shape of a T, buildings branched north and south of it. It was a thriving communityand many more dwellings were in the process of completion. Beyond the town was a meadow packed with tents, large and small, and Shannow could see more than a dozen cookfires. Families were moving in to settle the land, and soon Pilgrim’s Valley would house a city.
    Shannow considered avoiding the town and riding on to the wall and beyond. But the stallion needed rest and grain feeding, and the Jerusalem Man had not slept in a bed in what seemed an age. He rubbed at his chin and imagined a long, hot bath and the feel of a razor on his face. His clothes, too, were way overdue for a cleaning, and his boots were leaf-thin. Flicking a glance at the wagon, he could no longer see the driver or the flesh of her leg at the brake.

10
    O SHERE EASED HIS swollen, misshapen frame into the room and tried to sit down in a wide chair. The discomfort was supreme; the muscles of his back no longer stretched as they should have. He rose and squatted on his haunches, watching the Dark Lady as she sat statue-still at the huge desk. Her eyes were closed, her spirit absent from her body. Oshere knew where she flew. She was deep down inside the drying smear of his blood that stained the crystal on her desk. Oshere sat silently until Chreena stretched her back and opened her eyes. She cursed softly.
    “You must not be impatient,” said Oshere.
    The black woman turned and smiled. “Time races away from me,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”
    “Not good, Chreena. Now I know how Shir-ran felt … and why he left. Perhaps I should go, too.”
    “No! I will not hear such talk. I am close, Oshere; I know I am. All I need to find out is
why
the daughter molecules depart from the norm. They should not; it is against nature.”
    Oshere chuckled. “Are we not against nature, my dear? Did God ever intend a lion to walk like a man?”
    “I am not worthy to discuss God’s aims, Oshere. But your genetic structure was altered hundreds of years ago, and now it is reverting. There must be a way to halt it.”
    “But that is what I am saying, Chreena. Perhaps God wants us back the way he created us.”
    “I should never have told you the truth,” Chreena whispered.
    His tawny eyes locked on her dark face. “We have left the others in the joy of their myths, but it is better for me to know the truth. Dear Lord, Chreena, I am a lion. I should be padding the forests and the mountains. And I will be.”
    “You were born a human,” she told him, “and you grew into a man. A fine man, Oshere. You were not intended to prowl the wilds—I know it.”
    “And Shir-ran was? No, Chreena. You are a fine scientist, and you have cared for the people of the Dianae. But I think your emotions are ruling your intellect. We always thought that we were the chosen people. We saw the statues in the cities and believed that man was once subservient to us. The truth may not be as palatable, but I can live with it. It will not change the Law of the One that Oshere becomes a lion.”
    “Nor if he does not,” said Chreena. “Someone, a long time ago, began an experiment on chromosome engineering. The reasons I can only guess at. But the chain of life was altered in several species, and this was successful—until now. What could be done then can be done now. And I will find a way to reverse the process.”
    “The Bears have all reverted,” he pointed out. “The Wolvers are dying. And did you not make