The Place of Dead Kings

by Geoffrey Wilson

  ‘No.’ Sonali slipped past him and faced the approaching guard.

  Jack was about to pull her back, when she closed her eyes and began muttering words he didn’t recognise. She held out her arm and lifted her eyelids again.

  The Cattan was less than twenty feet from her, his eyes shining and a hungry look on his face.

  She screeched as if she were in great pain and powerful sattva pulsed out from her. Dazzling green lightning snarled from her fingertips, pummelled the Cattan in the chest and plucked him off his feet. The man flew back and landed further down the walkway, smoke rising from his dead body.

  Sonali slumped forward and held the parapet to support herself. Sweat glistened on her forehead and she panted with exhaustion.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Jack said.

  She nodded, went to speak, then gasped and clutched at the torc. The metal was sinking into her neck as if the skin were soft dough. She gave a small moan and looked across the bailey.

  Jack stared through the mist. He saw that Mahajan had leapt down from the battlements and now stood facing him and Sonali.

  ‘He sensed me use a power.’ Sonali’s voice was thin. ‘Now. We have to do it.’

  She leant against the parapet and mouthed the secret words again, wincing as the torc squeezed tighter.

  Mahajan raised his arm. With a deafening rumble, the skull descended and hung in the air above him. The metal death’s head opened its mouth and grinned, exposing its jagged teeth. Its blank eye sockets bored right into Jack.

  ‘Quick.’ Sonali’s voice was faint.

  Jack leant against the battlements, raised the musket and stared along the sights. Mahajan circled his arm, but his torso remained largely fixed in one position. Jack could still only see out of one eye, but he only needed the one. Sweat popped on his forehead and his heart hummed.

  The guns roared, the muskets spluttered, the mist swayed and the ash spiralled over everything.

  Sonali held out her arm and gave a muted shriek.

  At the same time, Mahajan pointed straight back at her. The skull growled, quivered and then hurtled across the bailey. Mist streamed over the black iron. Flame throbbed alight inside it. Within seconds it would reach Jack and Sonali.

  Green lightning blazed from Sonali’s finger, snaked across the bailey and thumped into Mahajan. Mahajan tottered backwards. His shield blinked bright bronze and vanished.

  The skull howled through the air.

  But Jack didn’t look up.

  He couldn’t.

  Because now was his one chance to shoot Mahajan.

  One second. That was all the time he had.

  With his gaze still locked on the sights, he pulled the musket’s trigger. The butt kicked into his shoulder and a jet of smoke burst from the barrel and blurred his view.

  His heart seemed to stop. Everything went silent.

  He dodged to the side to look around the smoke and saw Mahajan still standing on the walkway.

  Jack seemed to wait for a long time, long enough for thoughts to flood his mind. Had his shot gone wide? Fallen short?

  Then Mahajan jumped and folded backwards against the battlements.

  Jack had hit him.

  But even as he registered this, the skull swooped down and blotted out the view. For a moment he was face to face with the evil countenance. Then the beast screamed and red flame erupted from its eyes and mouth.

  The heat punched Jack in the face. He cried out, leapt towards Sonali and knocked her down below the parapet. The two of them skidded across the walkway as fire boiled over the battlements and hissed across the stone behind them.

  The air was so hot it scalded Jack’s skin for a second.

  He landed beside Sonali and looked back to see the skull roar past and chip off the top of the battlements, before sweeping up into the sky and wheeling around in a wide arc.

  He heard a choking sound. Sonali was writhing on the ground and fighting to pull off the torc. Her eyes bulged and tears ran across her cheeks. She tried to speak, but the only sounds she made were gasps.

  Christ.

  He squatted beside her and tried to work his finger under the necklace. But it was too tight and impossible to grip. He wrenched out his knife and tried to ease it under the torc. But even that proved impossible without cutting into her neck.

  She kicked her legs and thrashed about.

  Damn it.

  He stood and saw Mahajan was lying sprawled on the walkway with a group of his men gathered about him. At first Jack thought the siddha must be dead, but then Mahajan feebly raised one arm.

  Should Jack try to shoot him again? With what?

  He heard cries from the end of the wall. Cormac and his men were being overwhelmed by the Cattans. They wouldn’t be able to hold the attackers back for much longer.

  Jack felt a grumble through the stone, looked over the parapet again and saw the skull had circled back and now hovered above Mahajan. The prone siddha gestured limply towards Jack. The skull roared and launched itself across the bailey once more.

  No.

  Sonali was still lying on the walkway and struggling with the torc, her face red and swelling. He had to get her out of the way or she would be burnt alive. He grasped her shoulders and dragged with all of his remaining strength. She twisted and turned. Perspiration covered her face and her mouth hung open.

  The skull gave a piercing shriek.

  He looked up in time to see it plunge towards him. The fire glowed into life within it and its mouth opened wider.

  Jack’s heart smacked in his chest. Blots of darkness swirled about him.

  The skull was about to blast him and Sonali. He couldn’t get out of the way in time—

  Then the flames snuffed out.

  The creature changed course slightly and bowled ahead without attacking. Only now it was heading directly for the battlements.

  It was going to hit.

  With a last surge of strength, Jack hauled Sonali. Blackness washed over him. He could barely breathe. He was certain he would pass out at any moment.

  The skull groaned like a foghorn and smacked into the battlements about twenty feet from Jack. The wall shook and he slipped back. Shards of stone shrieked in all directions and dust bloomed. With a metal squeal, the creature ploughed straight through the masonry and careered down into the inner bailey. It pounded the earth, spitting up a geyser of clods, and buried itself so deeply that only the back of its crown poked up from the ground.

  Jack sat on the walkway. The world whirled around him. Cathedral bells pealed in his ears. Dust embraced him and shining ash flakes swooped past like comets. Broken stonework lay scattered across the walkway, spreading out from the large gouge left in the wall by the falling skull.

  Everything went dark for a moment. But he shook his head and fought off the dizziness.

  Sonali.

  She was lying next to him, smothered by dust and absolutely still. Her eyes were closed.

  Christ. The torc had strangled her.

  He rushed to her side and frantically swept the dirt away from her neck. The torc had vanished, leaving only an indentation in her skin.

  Then her eyes sprang open and she coughed, wheezed and gasped for breath, as if she’d been drowning. Jack helped her sit up and she coughed and spluttered some more, her whole body shuddering.

  Alive. Thank Christ. He quickly crossed himself.

  ‘Mahajan,’ she said, her voice hoarse.

  Jack understood and thrust his head over the parapet. The siddha lay motionless on the walkway. A group of Cattans stood nearby, their heads lowered and their arms hanging limply at their sides.

  Mahajan must be dead.

  That explained why the skull had crashed and the torc had vanished. The bullet had killed the siddha just in time.

  Jack crouched down again. ‘We did it.’

  Sonali looked confused.

  He clutched her shoulders. ‘Mahajan’s dead.’

  She touched her neck, stroked the li
berated skin with her finger and a slight smile crept across her lips.

  Cormac burst through the mist and clouds of dust, leaping over chunks of shattered masonry. He skidded to a halt, squatted and grasped Jack’s arm. ‘You live.’

  ‘Yes, we live,’ Jack said.

  Sonali coughed a few more times and wiped her mouth with her hand.

  Cormac bowed his head and spoke softly. ‘Great Shee woman. I have seen the lightning from your hand. You are as great as the great Captain Rao. You have struck down Demon.’ He raised his head and looked at Jack. ‘And you too. With fire weapon. I see.’

  ‘We all did our best.’ Jack raised himself, pain still lancing his chest.

  Five Mar warriors jogged along the wall and came to a halt behind Cormac. Blood smeared their clothes and speckled their faces. A few had gashes on their arms and legs. They were clearly the only survivors from the party Jack had led into the castle. And yet they smiled broadly, their eyes shining.

  The guns and muskets had fallen silent. A hush seemed to blanket everything. Several Cattans still stared at Mahajan’s fallen body, but others were now fleeing along the ramparts or charging down the stairs. Cattans ran across the inner and outer baileys, shouting, but seemingly unable to organise themselves to resist the attackers any longer. Without their leader, they seemed to have lost the will to fight.

  Jack thought he could hear the faint cheering of the horde of warriors beyond the castle walls.

  Then the stone beneath him jolted and a grumble emanated from the earth. The wall rocked and he had to grasp the parapet to steady himself.

  It felt like an earthquake. He’d been in one years ago in the Napoli Caliphate.

  The Cattans shouted and charged about in all directions.

  Cormac frowned. ‘Demon. Magic still here.’

  ‘No.’ Sonali raised herself to her feet. ‘The castle’s held together by Mahajan’s power. Now he’s dead it’ll fall apart.’

  With a shrill squeal, one of the prongs on the side of the inner bailey buckled inwards, as if being crushed by a gigantic hand. The ground rolled and the roaring sound grew louder. A chimney swayed and toppled over. Falling stones and pipes splattered over the lower buildings and dashed across the bailey.

  Sonali leant against the wall, too weak to stand unaided. Sweat and dirt streaked her face and she swallowed repeatedly as though she were about to throw up. Using a power could exhaust a person at the best of times. On top of that she’d almost been strangled.

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ she said, her voice rasping. ‘The whole place will collapse.’

  Jack agreed but there were two things he still had to do. ‘You go. I’ll send some of the Mar with you.’

  Sonali frowned. ‘We all have to go.’

  ‘My friends are still in the dungeon.’

  ‘I’ll help you get them.’

  ‘You’re in no fit state to do that.’ This was true, but also, after freeing Saleem, he meant to get into Mahajan’s workshop and destroy the Brahmastra. He didn’t want Sonali following him into the catacombs while the castle was falling apart.

  The ground heaved, as if a wave had passed beneath it. Steam shrieked from numerous pipes as they split open.

  Sonali clung to the wall and looked as though she would faint for a moment. Finally, she nodded weakly. ‘All right.’

  ‘Good.’ Jack patted her on the arm. ‘You’re free now.’ He turned to Cormac. ‘Tell three warriors to go with the shee woman. They must go to the back of the castle and get down the ladders. They have to tell Domnall and the others to move right away from the castle.’

  Cormac nodded and barked this command to the warriors. Then three of the Mar assisted Sonali as she limped away along the dividing wall.

  The ground surged and rumbled. Jack grasped the parapet, as if he were on a boat in a stormy sea. On the other side of the inner bailey a building cracked, tumbled down and puffed out a wide skirt of dust.

  ‘You and the others come with me,’ he said to Cormac. ‘There’s one last thing I need your help with.’

  Jack ran along the edge of the inner bailey, Cormac at his side and the two remaining Mar warriors bounding behind. The tower that housed the dungeon loomed ahead. Thank God it was still standing, but how many Cattans were in there?

  He spotted two dead guards – who appeared to have been killed by falling masonry – and stopped to grab a musket lying beside one of them. The earth grumbled and tilted. Above him, an iron prong creaked and plunged towards the bailey. He dashed out of the way as the contorted metal smashed across the ground.

  He stumbled on to the tower. With Cormac and the others behind him, he kicked open the door and found the room beyond deserted. He clicked out the musket’s knife and headed for the staircase. The building shuddered and the ground rolled wildly. Cracks forked across the ceiling and chunks of stone fell. He staggered to the top of the steps and looked down. The stairwell was pitch black and dust floated up from below.

  Cormac and the others skidded over to him and stared down into the depths. Jack noted the looks of concern on their faces.

  ‘I’ll go down,’ he said. ‘You wait here.’

  ‘No,’ Cormac said. ‘We come.’

  Jack nodded, slung the musket over his shoulder and grasped a torch from a sconce. He held the dancing flames ahead of him as he plunged into the dust-filled gloom. His chest throbbed and he felt light-headed. He had to keep blinking and shaking his head to stop himself passing out.

  How much longer did he have to live?

  The floor lurched and groaned. Cracks fanned across the wall and dust showered him. The torch sputtered and almost went out for a moment. He coughed as the grit clogged his lungs, but he pressed on regardless.

  From deep in the earth came the continuous roar of rocks grinding together.

  Would the building stay standing long enough for him to find Saleem? He whispered a Hail Mary. Please let him save the boy.

  He jumped and recoiled when he almost stood on a hand. A dead Cattan, partially buried by fallen masonry, lay on the stairs. Jack edged past, clattered on down the steps and finally reached the dungeon.

  The room was in complete darkness. He swept the torch about him and saw another dead Cattan, scattered stones and a broken chair. He paced further into the chamber, the torch spitting and hissing as he swished it.

  And then he stopped.

  The ceiling above the far end of the room had caved in completely. There was nothing but a wall of rubble and rock where Saleem’s cell had been.

  No.

  Cormac ran up behind him. ‘Where friend?’

  Jack pointed at the rubble. ‘They were over there.’

  ‘Ah.’ Cormac stood up straighter and shifted his grip on his sword.

  ‘We have to find them.’ Jack waved the torch in front of him. ‘Saleem!’

  Silence.

  ‘Saleem!’ he shouted again.

  The ground shifted beneath his feet and he had to hold out his arms to steady himself. A piece of stone slapped the ground nearby and shattered. Dust puffed in his face. One of the Mar slipped over and fell on his backside.

  ‘We go.’ Cormac grasped Jack’s shoulder. ‘Dangerous.’

  ‘I can’t leave them,’ Jack shouted. ‘You lot go.’

  He ignored Cormac’s further entreaties, charged across the room and swung the torch about, searching for a way through the rubble.

  Cormac ran across and grasped his tunic. ‘We go!’

  A wave passed through the ground, lifting Jack up at least a foot, and then dashing him down again. The paving stones squealed as they cracked and splintered. Jack lost his footing and grasped at the rubble to keep himself upright.

  ‘I’m not going!’ Jack shouted back at Cormac. ‘You go. Now!’

  Then he heard a cry from within the fallen stones. It was faint, and only just audible over the background roaring in earth. But it was someone’s voice, without a doubt.

  ‘Saleem!’ Jack shouted.r />
  Faintly, he heard the voice calling back, saying one word repeatedly: ‘Jack.’

  Christ. Saleem. Had to be.

  He thrust the torch above his head and in the sputtering glow saw there was a small gap at the top of the mound. He jammed the torch between two slabs so that it jutted out and provided light. Then he clambered up, grasped some stones and wrenched them free. Cormac put away his sword and climbed up beside Jack. They both scraped away rubble until there was enough space to crawl through.

  The ground bucked again and some of the stones shifted. A huge slab smacked on to the ground.

  Cormac frowned at Jack. ‘Dangerous.’

  But Jack grabbed the torch and handed it to Cormac. ‘Hold that up.’

  In the light cast by the flames, he dragged himself up the pile of stones, scrambled over the top and found himself in a circular area, about ten feet across, where the ceiling had held. The broken stonework enclosed this space on all sides, but this one spot was mostly clear. He could see little in the dim light at first, but then Cormac climbed up to the gap and pushed the torch through. A yellow glow flooded the small area.

  And there, crouching in a corner, clothes torn and face covered in dirt, was Saleem.

  The lad’s haunted face suddenly split into a smile. ‘Jack.’

  Jack rushed across, grasped Saleem and hugged him. A Hail Mary tumbled through his head. Thank God the lad was alive. He never would have forgiven himself if Saleem had died.

  Blinking away a tear, Jack stood back. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Not really. But I’m stuck.’ Saleem tugged at a chain secured about his ankle. The end of the chain disappeared under the rubble.

  Jack nodded. ‘Where are Parihar and the others?’

  Saleem’s smile evaporated. He pointed behind Jack and his voice was croaky as he said, ‘There.’

  Jack spun round and saw Parihar and the two Saxons lying half protruding from the stonework. Cormac was squeezing over the top of the rubble, dislodging dust and small stones. He held the torch in one hand, and in the trembling light Jack saw that the faces of the three bodies were as still and grey as the stone that partially covered them.

  He ran across and crouched beside Parihar. The Lieutenant’s features were twisted and his mouth hung open as if he were about to cry out. His legs and abdomen were crushed beneath the stone. Even before Jack checked for a pulse, he knew Parihar was dead. The two Saxons had also been killed – the side of one man’s head had been smashed by a rock, while the other was so buried beneath the rubble only his arm and part of his face were visible.