The Place of Dead Kings

by Geoffrey Wilson

  ‘And what’ll we boil the water in?’

  ‘Ah.’ Rao rubbed his moustache. ‘True. We don’t have a pot.’

  ‘There is one way. But you’re probably not going to like it.’

  ‘What?’

  Jack picked up the empty water canteen, turned away and loosened his hose. He began urinating into the canteen.

  ‘Ergh,’ Rao said. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Piss is a great cleaner. Trust me.’

  Jack fastened his hose again, put small wooden pegs into his pistol’s touch holes and poured urine into the six barrels. He passed the canteen over to Rao.

  ‘Shiva.’ Rao wrinkled his face and pressed his handkerchief to his nose.

  ‘It’s the only way,’ Jack said.

  Rao grimaced, took the canteen and poured urine into his pistol’s muzzles. He turned his face away to avoid the steam rising from the liquid.

  Jack put his hand over the end of his pistol and shook the weapon up and down, swilling the urine in the barrels. He looked across at Rao. ‘Come on.’

  With a look of supreme disgust, Rao put his hand over his pistol and shook. He went pale, as if he were about to throw up.

  They both poured the urine out into the snow and repeated the process a few times. Rao gagged at one point, but managed to hold back the vomit.

  Once the barrels were clean, they dried the pistols with rags and reloaded with greased patches and bullets. Jack used snow to wipe down the scimitar, then shoved the blade, the knife and the pistol into his belt.

  ‘You all right?’ Jack asked.

  Rao nodded, colour returning to his cheeks.

  Jack couldn’t help grinning at Rao’s discomfort. ‘Right, then. Let’s get back to the trail.’

  Jack sat cross-legged on the frozen floor of the valley. The white landscape stretched away from him in all directions. A faint breeze fluttered the edges of his tunic, but the snowfall had stopped.

  Rao stomped his feet to keep himself warm while he waited nearby.

  Jack shut his eyes, took several deep breaths and tried to calm his mind. Worries about Saleem beat in his head. Was the lad still alive? Was he strong enough to keep going? But Jack couldn’t let these concerns distract him.

  He concentrated on the cold air flowing into his nostrils, hitting the back of his throat and chilling his lungs.

  The storm in his head receded.

  Good. He was getting himself under control.

  He focused on the Europa yantra, the intricate details appearing before him on a black background. The design circled slowly and he fought to hold it still.

  He sensed the grainy texture of the sattva about him. He was in a medium stream, which was better than nothing. He reached out with his mind, dragged the sattva towards him and began smelting, the sattva exuding a sweet scent as it was processed.

  He sensed the spirit realm draw close. A heavy brightness weighed upon him.

  Focus on the yantra. Don’t let it slip.

  Your mind is a rippling pool. Still it.

  The fire in his chest flickered and pain streaked through his body. But he ignored it. He wasn’t going to let his injury put him off his task.

  The yantra locked into place and he held the entire image in his mind without any other thoughts intruding. The design shimmered and then burst into dazzling light.

  Warmth flooded through his body, cathedral bells and angelic singing seemed to clamour in his head and suddenly he was in the centre of a vast, interconnected lattice.

  He flung his eyes open. The white ocean of snow rolled away from him. Wavelets and swells, with blue shadows, scudded across the valley floor.

  He looked down. All about him, strings of lights glowed through the snow, as if hundreds of lanterns had been buried beneath the drifts.

  Trails in sattva. And judging by their size and shape, they were the markings left by the four hundred or so savages.

  He leapt up and Rao jumped slightly at the sudden movement.

  ‘Spyglass,’ Jack said, and Rao handed it over.

  Jack snapped open the glass and peered through it. The luminous trails coursed away down the valley, becoming no more than pinpricks in the distance. He stared harder and noticed the tiny lights curving gently to the right more than a mile off and flowing up over a range of hills. He memorised the point where the trail rippled past a stand of trees and then allowed himself to slide out of the trance.

  Pain jabbed at his chest and his breathing was shallow. But he felt better than he’d expected. Kanvar’s cure was still holding.

  He handed back the glass. ‘I’ve got the trail.’

  Rao stared at the ground ahead and frowned. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

  ‘Trust me. Let’s go.’

  They jogged through the snow, kicking up flakes behind them. Their breath frosted about their mouths and ice collected in Rao’s moustache. Their footsteps were the first to mark the pristine snow.

  They reached the hills and clambered up the slope towards the copse Jack had seen earlier. A herd of deer stood in the distance and watched them warily.

  At the summit, they rested and munched a few dry rations. Jack checked the bag and found there were only ten biscuits left. They would have to hunt for food if they couldn’t catch up to the savages soon.

  They took it in turns to scan the ground ahead through the glass. Jack saw further mountains and buckled valleys carpeted in snow, but no sign of the Scots.

  He sniffed. He caught the sweet aroma of sattva and a shiver crossed his skin. They were in a strong stream – a good place to enter the trance.

  He meditated again and soon spied the wide trail running down the slope and into a forest. He grasped the knapsack and led Rao downhill, remaining in the trance so that he could keep his eyes on the tracks. The incline was steep and they had to zigzag in order to stop themselves slipping. Sweat blossomed beneath Jack’s tunic and his breath was short and raspy. The trance suppressed his discomfort, but he was only too aware that he was growing weaker.

  They reached the forest and paced down between the black, leafless trees. The branches clenched together over their heads and roots snaked out of the snow in front of them. Jack kept his eyes firmly on the glowing tracks speckling the ground ahead.

  After around ten minutes, he spotted a distinctive set of holes in the snow. He ran down to them and crouched for a better look. They were the telltale tracks left by the savage’s shoes. Glancing around, he saw further footprints interspersed between the trees.

  He looked up at Rao and grinned. ‘Found the trail again. They must have got this far before the heavy snow stopped.’

  Rao paused for a moment, then swallowed and said awkwardly, ‘Well done.’

  Jack skipped out of the trance. Tiredness swamped him and the pain quivered in his chest. But after a brief rest he felt well enough to continue.

  They wove their way between the trees and down to the floor of a narrow valley. The tracks were so clear in the snow even Rao was able to follow them.

  After an hour, Jack stopped when he saw Rao was lagging behind. While he waited, he trudged down to a nearby brook, cracked the ice, washed out the canteen and filled it with water.

  Rao slowed to a walk, plodded over and sat on a rock. His face was red and he was wheezing. Jack offered him the canteen, but he crinkled his nose and turned his face away. ‘You can’t drink from that now.’

  Jack shrugged and gulped down some water, which tasted fine. Rao scooped up a handful of snow and sucked on that instead.

  A thin howl cracked the silence, echoing between the slopes.

  Rao jumped up and rested his hand on his holster. ‘What was that?’

  The howl struck up again, joined by another and then a third. The cries were eerie, but Jack knew what they were.

  ‘Wolves,’ he said.

  Rao frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Like big dogs.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rao searched the scarps. ‘Yes, I’ve heard of them. It’s the str
angest sound.’

  ‘They’ll leave us alone. Come on.’

  They pressed on, following the black potholes left by the savages’ feet. The wolves stopped wailing after a few minutes and all Jack could hear was the crisp crunch of his and Rao’s boots in the snow. As the afternoon wore on, the cloud congealed and darkened overhead, a chill wind whipped through the valley and flakes began to circle down again.

  ‘It’s damn cold,’ Rao said when they stopped for a break. He pulled the collar of his overcoat tight about his neck. He’d put on riding gloves, but had nothing warmer to wear. Flakes dusted his turban and shoulders and ice was crystallising in his moustache again.

  Jack shivered. The breeze whispered through his tunic and the cold pressed against his hose. He lifted his hood over his head. ‘We’d best keep moving. Only way to stay warm.’

  The wind strengthened and tossed the snow around them as they jogged on. Jack’s nose and cheeks were rubbed raw and he pulled his hands into his sleeves to stop them going numb. Blinking flakes out of his eyes, he saw the savages’ footprints were filling up with snow. Soon they would be smothered completely.

  Several wolves bayed from somewhere high up to the left. The sound cut through the whistling wind and even Jack felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

  Rao shuddered.

  ‘It sounds worse than it is,’ Jack said, trying his best to be reassuring.

  ‘What’s that?’ Rao pointed into the woods.

  Jack stopped and stared. At first he saw nothing, but then spotted a grey shape flicker between the trees about a hundred yards away. Another shape followed and then three or four others. They seemed to appear from nowhere and then slip away again into the swirling haze.

  ‘Wolves?’ Rao asked.

  Jack nodded. ‘Looks like it.’

  The cries continued to wheel about them and the wind turned into a gale, blasting them with ice and dashing snow in their faces. They could no longer run and had to trudge ahead, leaning into the squalls. The cold stung Jack’s ears and face.

  Soon the wail of the wind blotted out the wolves’ howling. But the ghostly creatures still flitted through the woods, appearing up ahead, then to the left, then the right.

  Jack wondered whether they were encircling him and Rao.

  The light dimmed, but Jack couldn’t tell whether this was due to the storm or the lowering of the sun. He’d lost track of time and the savages’ trail was completely covered over. He would have to meditate again if they were going to continue. But was it wise to continue now with the wolves following them and the temperature plummeting further by the minute?

  He shouted to Rao over the wind, ‘What time is it?’

  ‘What?’ Rao cried back.

  ‘Time?’ Jack said more loudly.

  Rao plucked out his pocket watch and squinted at it, wiping flakes away from the face. ‘Half past three.’

  ‘We should make camp. It’ll be dark soon and the storm’s getting bad.’

  ‘Where?’

  Jack glanced around. Nowhere in sight offered much shelter, but he spotted the dark blur of a line of hills about half a mile away. There might be rocks or an overhang there that could provide some degree of protection.

  ‘We’ll try over there.’ Jack pointed towards the slopes and forged his way to the right through the deepening snow. Ice encrusted his eyebrows and his lips went numb. Every inch of his skin trembled from the cold.

  They couldn’t last much longer out in the storm like this. They would freeze to death.

  Jack paused beside a tree to catch his breath. When he looked back, he saw Rao was more than a hundred yards back and almost obscured by the snowstorm.

  Christ. The Captain was walking so slowly. It would be dark by the time they reached the hills at this rate.

  Finally, Rao caught up and Jack noticed that his eyes had a blank look and he gazed about him as if he couldn’t understand where he was.

  ‘You all right?’ Jack shouted.

  Rao started, as if he’d just noticed Jack, then seemed to become more alert. ‘Fine, yes. Just cold.’

  Jack led the way forward again into the lashing wind. After ten minutes, Rao cried out and Jack spun round to see the Captain lying on his side. Jack waded back and crouched down.

  ‘Just fell.’ Rao gasped and raised himself on his arm. ‘I’m all right.’

  But Rao looked pale and his teeth were chattering so loudly Jack could hear them.

  Jack didn’t like the look of this. He’d seen men die from the cold several times when he was in the army. It came in stages. A man would become delirious, lose all his strength and even will to continue. Then he would fall unconscious and eventually slip away.

  Jack scoured the surroundings. He had to find shelter for Rao. Now.

  He spied a wide, twisted oak with roots that formed a series of hollows at its base. That was the best place on offer at the moment.

  ‘Come on.’ Jack offered Rao his hand. ‘Not far now.’

  He heaved Rao up and supported him as they limped over to the oak. He eased the Captain down in the lee of the tree, where he was protected from the worst of the storm. Rao’s eyes closed and his head lolled to the side. Jack slapped him in the face a few times and his eyelids half opened.

  ‘You stay here,’ Jack shouted. ‘I’m going to build a shelter.’

  Rao didn’t respond, but he held his head straight at least and didn’t close his eyes.

  Jack stumbled out into the blizzard, searching the ground for branches. The gale pulled at his tunic, flicked snow in his eyes and moaned in his ears. He spotted two large branches leaning against a rock, picked them up, then saw a further branch half split off from a birch and floundered across to it. He wrenched the branch free, turned and then jumped slightly when he saw a wolf standing about ten feet away. It had appeared so suddenly it was like something from a dream. Its grey-white fur rippled in the wind and it stared at Jack with yellow eyes.

  Jack kept his eyes locked on the beast as his hand crept towards the pistol.

  But then the wolf turned and padded away into the reeling snowflakes.

  Jack breathed out. But he didn’t wait around any longer. If the wolves were becoming less wary, Rao could be in danger.

  He waded back towards the oak and made out the Captain still hunched between the tree roots. The pale form of a wolf prowled up and down around twenty feet away from the prone Rajthanan.

  No.

  Jack tried to run, but the snow dragged at his legs. He surged forward, shouting in an attempt to wake Rao.

  The wolf crept closer to the Captain. Another loped out of the white murk and sat watching.

  Jack dropped the branches, wrenched out his pistol and fired into the air. The loud crack cut through the wind. Both wolves jolted and sprinted off into the woods.

  He scooped up the branches and trudged forward again. He heard a growl to his left, spun round and saw another wolf stalking him. He fired at the creature. But this time the pistol spluttered, crackled and kicked hard in his hand. All the bullets shot out at once.

  Christ. A chain fire. Despite their benefits, rotary pistols were prone to accidents.

  He’d missed the wolf, but it slunk off anyway. Turning back, he saw the two wolves circling Rao again. But there were no bullets left in his pistol, and no time to reload.

  Damn it.

  He shouted, dropped the branches and tried to rush forward.

  Then he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he swivelled and saw a wolf bounding straight at him.

  Everything seemed to slow down. He saw the creature flying silently and gracefully across the snow, its eyes fixed on him. It leapt and sailed in his direction. He could see its nose and fangs in great detail. He dropped the pistol and reached for the scimitar.

  But he was too slow.

  The wolf smacked into his chest with more force than he’d thought possible. He flew backwards and smashed into the snow.

  The
wolf thumped down on top of him.

  It paused for a second, then opened its jaws, snarled and lunged at his face.

  16

  Jack cried out, swung his arm and smacked the wolf in the head. The beast’s maw was knocked to the side for a moment, but it immediately forced its jaws straight back towards him.

  His heart bashed in his ears.

  He grasped the wolf’s matted fur and tried to drive its mouth away again. But the creature was strong. He felt its neck and shoulder muscles rippling beneath his hands.

  There was only one possible outcome to this struggle.

  His only hope was to get the knife out of his belt, but that would mean letting go of the beast’s head with one hand at least.

  Would he be able to stab the wolf before it could rip his face off?

  Sweat streamed across his forehead. He stared straight into the creature’s mouth. Strings of saliva stretched between its fangs and its hot, stale breath blasted his nostrils. His arms screamed at the strain of forcing the creature back.

  He couldn’t hold on for much longer. He had to do it now.

  He released his right hand, grasped at his belt and ripped out the knife.

  The wolf lurched forward and its teeth pressed against his cheek. The reek of its breath was overwhelming.

  He slammed the knife up into the creature’s belly and felt hot blood splash over his hand. The wolf yelped and jerked its head back. He drove the knife up again, and then a third time.

  The creature gave a high-pitched squeal and rolled off him. It tried to flee, but its back legs gave way and it was forced to drag itself along, smearing bright blood on the snow.

  Heart still crashing in his ribs, Jack sprang to his knees and saw the two wolves still skulking close to Rao.

  ‘No!’ he shouted.

  He scrambled across to the Captain. His sudden movement startled the wolves and they backed away. But soon they came prowling back.

  Rao’s eyes were closed and his lips were blue, but his chest was going up and down.

  Thank Christ he was still alive.

  A pistol. Jack needed a pistol right now. The wolves were mere feet away.