The Place of Dead Kings

by Geoffrey Wilson

  In the centre of the group, in a freshly dug grave, lay the body of Chief Domnall. He was wrapped in his striped cloak and his spear lay beside him. His eyes were closed and his face was solemn but calm. His long white hair and beard shone softly in the wintry light.

  Jack stood with Saleem, Rao and Sonali. All of them wore native cloaks and stared grimly at the dead Chief. Cormac was directly opposite, his arms hanging limply at his sides and his head bowed. Near to him stood the woman the Cattans had abducted twelve days ago. The warriors had discovered her and some of the other kidnapped women in the village beside Mahajan’s castle. At least they were free now.

  With great difficulty the seer bent her knees, supporting herself with her staff, and scooped up a handful of dirt. She cast the earth into the grave and it dashed against the Chief’s chest.

  The wailing grew louder. Eva screeched, pushed past her sisters and collapsed to her knees beside the pit. She sobbed and clawed at the earth, raking up clods and smashing them against the ground. Two of her sisters huddled beside her and tried to calm her.

  The seer straightened again and leant against her staff. The rest of the Mar began grasping earth and scattering it over the Chief.

  Slowly, the old man was covered over.

  An icy wind swept down from the mountains.

  The village was without its leader.

  ‘I failed,’ Saleem said as he walked up the slope. ‘I came here to make up for Wiltshire and I didn’t do anything.’

  Jack shook his head as he strode beside the lad. ‘You did plenty. You helped me fight Wulfric. You survived in Mahajan’s dungeon. And you got us past that skull avatar. I never would have made it without you.’

  Saleem glanced across at him. ‘You think so?’

  ‘I know so. You’ve made up for Wiltshire. Many times over. You have to stop beating yourself up about it now.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Saleem stared at the ground. ‘What about you? And William Merton?’

  Jack tensed. It was hard to talk about his friend. ‘What about William?’

  ‘You have to forgive yourself too.’

  Jack was silent for a moment. He couldn’t forgive himself but perhaps he should try. Or at least start to. ‘Maybe one day.’ He looked up and pointed. ‘There he is.’

  Above them, on the crest of the hill, stood Rao. He held a burning brand in one hand and the overcast sky swirled behind him. Next to him rose a mound of twigs and branches.

  Jack and Saleem trudged up the last few feet to the summit and stood beside the Captain.

  ‘Thank you for coming.’ Rao turned and thrust the brand into the pile of wood. The flames crept along the twigs and soon engulfed the larger branches.

  The three of them watched as the fire grew brighter and the heat intensified. Soon it was so hot they had to step back a few paces.

  Rao gave a loud sigh.

  The pyre was for Parihar. It had been impossible to retrieve the Lieutenant’s body to cremate it. Instead, according to Rajthanan custom, Rao had made a small effigy out of straw and placed it in the centre of the pile of wood.

  Jack had been less than impressed by Parihar. The man had seemed an arrogant idiot during the journey up through Scotland. But he was dead now, and there was no point in thinking ill of the dead.

  ‘It’s a hard loss,’ Jack said.

  Rao nodded. ‘More than twenty years he’d been a friend. Since we were this high.’ Rao held his hand to his waist.

  ‘Sorry to hear it.’

  Rao sighed again. ‘Thank you. Both of you.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Jack said. ‘We both know what it’s like to lose friends. We couldn’t let you hold a funeral on your own.’

  ‘No. It’s not just that. I meant for everything you’ve done. Jack, you risked your life to free Parihar. And Saleem, you were with him until the end.’

  ‘You fought too,’ Jack said. ‘We all tried our best to get him out.’

  Rao’s jaw quivered slightly but he managed to still it. ‘Yes, we did our best by poor Parihar. No one can say we didn’t try our best.’

  Sonali swept her shawl about her and ducked through the hut’s entrance. She crouched beside the embers pulsing in the central hearth.

  ‘So, that’s all of it.’ She nodded at the papers and folios spread out on the floor.

  Jack shifted as he sat cross-legged on his bracken bed. ‘That’s everything we took from Mahajan’s workshop.’

  Saleem, sitting nearby, nodded, while Rao stared at the papers, rubbing his moustache.

  ‘It’s all evil,’ Sonali said. ‘The work of the Kapalikas.’

  ‘Are there any copies?’ Jack asked.

  ‘If there ever were, they would have been somewhere in the castle,’ she said. ‘They would have been destroyed with everything else.’

  ‘Mahajan wouldn’t have stashed copies somewhere else?’ Jack asked.

  She shook her head. ‘There was nowhere else he could keep them. And anyway, he wouldn’t dare leave them where anyone else could get hold of them.’

  ‘Perhaps he had a comrade? Another siddha?’

  Sonali snorted. ‘He worked alone. Believe me. He would never trust anyone else with his secrets.’

  Rao cleared his throat. ‘So, if I have this right, we have here the only copies of Mahajan’s papers. Also, the castle, machine, whatever it was, has been destroyed. There’s nothing left of it that would allow it to be rebuilt.’

  ‘I can’t see how,’ Sonali said. ‘I looked at the ruins. There’s almost nothing there.’

  ‘I agree,’ Jack said. ‘There was just a bit of rubble left. Soon it’ll be covered over by grass. Nothing there anyone could use.’

  Rao nodded slowly and glanced at Jack. ‘Then I say we destroy these notes. We agreed no one should have the Brahmastra. If we get rid of these writings no one else will ever be able to build one.’

  Sonali nodded. ‘Destroy them.’ She spoke the words as if she were spitting.

  Jack flicked a look at Saleem, who shrugged. ‘Whatever you think, Jack.’

  Jack paused, then said to Rao, ‘What about Atri’s notes?’

  ‘What about them?’ Rao asked.

  ‘He was researching the Brahmastra, wasn’t he? Maybe he wrote something about it.’

  ‘I can’t think he would have known anything much.’ Rao pulled Atri’s notebook and maps out of his satchel. ‘But all the same, we can get rid of them too. To be on the safe side.’ He tossed the charts on to the pile of Mahajan’s papers. Then he tore out the first half of the notebook and held up the pages. ‘This is all Atri’s. The back part is my own notes.’ He then threw the torn pages on to the pile as well.

  Sonali looked at Jack. ‘So, we’ll destroy it all?’

  Jack rubbed his chin. ‘Yes. We’ll burn it. All except for those maps.’

  ‘These ones?’ Rao lifted Atri’s charts.

  Jack nodded and pointed at two large maps he’d found in Mahajan’s workshop. ‘And those.’

  Rao quickly looked over Mahajan’s charts and compared them to the ones Atri had drawn. ‘Yes. They all just seem to be ordinary maps. Nothing about the Brahmastra.’

  ‘So, there’s no need to get rid of them,’ Jack said.

  ‘I suppose not. But what do you want them for?’

  Jack paused. He wasn’t completely certain himself. He just had a vague sense that they belonged to his people. ‘They’re maps of Britain. They’re records of these lands. The people of this island should have them.’

  ‘You told me your people don’t use Rajthanan maps,’ Rao said.

  ‘Perhaps we should. My people have to understand these things.’ He motioned to the charts. ‘We can start with these. I’ll take them to the library at Clun Abbey. The monks will look after them.’

  Rao pursed his lips. ‘Very well, if you insist. There’s no harm in your having them.’ He pulled the maps away from the pile and set them aside.

  ‘So, Jack,’ Sonali said, ‘Mahajan’s notes.
’

  Jack stared at the papers for a moment. Within those pages was the key, perhaps, to building a monstrous weapon. A weapon the crusaders could use to free England for ever. Now that it came to it, it was hard to give up on this chance.

  But, no. Something like the Brahmastra shouldn’t exist in the world.

  He nodded slowly. ‘We’ll burn them.’

  Rao gave Jack a formal nod, then plucked up a handful of pages and shoved them into the fire. The paper caught quickly and was soon devoured by the flames. Rao picked up some folios and tossed them in as well. Then he swept up the final papers and fed them to the fire. A few sparks drifted lazily around the room. Black smoke swirled up like an escaped djinn. Jack half expected some sort of evil power to sweep out of the flames. But nothing happened.

  They were just ordinary pages of notes. Nothing else.

  The smoke thickened and funnelled up through a slit in the stone roof.

  Soon there was nothing left of Mahajan’s work except ash.

  Jack sat up and blinked in the dark. He’d heard a cry – he was certain – but now everything was silent again.

  By the light of the smouldering fire, he could see the dark curves of Rao and Saleem sleeping on their bracken beds. Saleem snuffled and shifted, but didn’t wake.

  Jack sat still. Listening.

  Was the village under attack? Had the Cattans returned? For a moment he even had the wild thought that Mahajan wasn’t dead and had come back for revenge.

  But he heard nothing further. He must have imagined it. He lay back on the bed.

  Then he heard the cry again – a thin, distinct wail.

  Christ. He grabbed the pistol and scurried outside. A cluster of villagers had gathered about the hut next door.

  Sonali’s hut.

  He heard another cry as he ran across to the gathering. The door had been moved aside, but none of the Mar wanted to enter. Instead, they all stood peering gingerly inside. Cormac stepped out from the group as Jack approached.

  ‘What is it?’ Jack asked.

  Cormac frowned and gestured to the doorway. ‘Not understand. Shee woman calls out.’

  Jack looked inside and made out Sonali lying under a blanket. Her eyes were closed and her forehead was bunched into a frown. She tossed and turned, then gave a moan.

  ‘Is bad magic?’ Cormac asked.

  ‘Looks more like a bad dream,’ Jack said.

  He stooped and clambered across to Sonali. She began crying out more frantically as he drew closer.

  ‘Sonali,’ he whispered.

  She thrashed about and shouted.

  ‘Sonali.’ He touched her shoulder.

  She opened her eyes, shrieked and sprang away from him. He heard the Mar gasp as they watched through the doorway.

  ‘It’s me.’ Jack held out his hand. ‘You’re safe.’

  She stared at him, her eyes wide and her chest heaving up and down. She glanced at the villagers, then at the fire, and then finally seemed to remember where she was.

  ‘A dream?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was cracked.

  ‘Mahajan?’

  She nodded, put her hands to her face and began sobbing.

  Jack turned to Cormac and the others. ‘It’s all right. I’ll look after her.’

  ‘Great Shee woman is safe?’ Cormac asked.

  ‘Yes. She’s safe now. She’s just been through a lot.’

  Jack swung the knapsack on to his back, shoved the pistol into his belt and grasped a knife-musket that had been taken from Mahajan’s castle. There was still a dangerous journey ahead through the wilds of Scotland before they got back to England.

  Rao was armed with a pistol, while Saleem had a musket. Sonali carried no weapon, but with her powers she was probably the most formidable fighter out of all of them. Jack shook his head as he looked at her standing nearby, wrapped in a native cloak. He’d never met a female siddha before, hadn’t even known they existed. But why not? She was sensitive to sattva. She’d had at least the basic training – like him. Why shouldn’t she use the powers she’d learnt?

  And if it wasn’t for her, he had no doubt Mahajan and the Cattans would have won the battle. He would most likely be dead by now in that case.

  They all owed her a great debt.

  Rao squinted up at the sky. For the first time in many days, the cloud had lifted, revealing stretches of blue. The sun even blinked into view at times. ‘We should go soon. It’s already mid-morning.’

  Jack grinned. ‘Didn’t check your watch?’

  Rao smiled and took the watch from his pocket. ‘It stopped. During the fight.’ He lifted it to his ear and shook it. ‘Sounds like it’s broken.’

  Jack glanced up. ‘Mid-morning. You’re right. Well done.’

  ‘Been practising.’ Rao eyed the centre of the village, where many of the Mar had gathered. ‘What are they up to now? We have to make a start.’

  The villagers had promised to send some warriors to guide Jack and the others back to the border. But now the Mar were no doubt engaged in some sort of ritual and wouldn’t travel until an auspicious moment.

  ‘We can’t go without them,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll go and find Cormac.’

  He went to take off the knapsack, then noticed the crowd leaving the centre of the village and walking towards them.

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Looks like we’ll be off soon.’

  The Mar approached Jack and the others, clapping their hands and chanting. Soon they were pressing in around the small group.

  Eva rushed to Rao’s side.

  The Captain flinched. ‘Now, look here, Eva. I’m—’

  ‘Great Shee.’ Eva hung her head. ‘I sorry. We no marry.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I marry other.’

  ‘You marry . . . Oh, I see.’ Rao gave a sigh of relief. ‘Well. Good.’

  Eva looked up. ‘You no angry?’

  ‘Of course not. I wish you and your future husband all the best.’

  Eva gave Rao a broad smile and bowed.

  Rao glanced at Jack and raised his eyebrows.

  Jack grinned and then turned to the assembled Mar. ‘Thank you, friends, for your hospitality. We will always remember you. But now, it’s time for us to leave.’

  ‘You leave,’ Eva said. ‘But first, Chief speak.’

  Jack frowned. ‘Chief? I thought there was no chief?’

  In answer to his question the Mar parted and a man walked forward from the back of the crowd. He wore a striped woollen cloak and Domnall’s ancient longsword hung at his side.

  Cormac.

  Rao gasped and a smile crept across Jack’s face.

  ‘We marry.’ Eva went to Cormac’s side and took his arm. ‘We lead village.’

  Jack felt emotion well within him. In a husky voice he said, ‘I’m sure you’ll lead your people wisely.’

  ‘This is splendid.’ Rao beamed. ‘Simply splendid.’

  ‘I serve people as best I can,’ Cormac said. ‘We weep for Domnall, but we also have joy in heart. We free. I thank you Great Shee with brown skin and eye that can see far, and Jack, friend of Great Shee, and Sonali, Great Shee woman. You have saved our lands.’

  A huge cheer went up from the Mar, and the sound seemed to lift Jack up for a moment. The villagers sang, swayed and clapped in time. Pipes droned and several men bashed hand-held drums.

  Cormac motioned to the five warriors who were to accompany Jack and the others on the journey. The men stepped forward, carrying spears and bows.

  Jack gave the crowd a final glance and then turned and left with the rest of the small party.

  The Mar continued to sing and cheer. No doubt they were praising the Great Shee and his companions.

  Rao turned to Jack, his eye glinting. ‘They are a remarkable people. Truly remarkable. I’m so glad they are finally free.’

  Jack nodded. They were indeed remarkable. And if they could free themselves from Mahajan’s rule, maybe there was still hope for the Engli
sh yet.

  34

  Rao stood on the brow of the hill, a slight breeze ruffling his native cloak. He peered through the spyglass, his face pinched in concentration.

  He lowered the glass and pointed to the west. ‘I can just make out Dun Fries over there.’

  Jack gazed across the grey, folding landscape. The day was murky and he couldn’t see the town or even a trace of smoke.

  They’d reached the border of Scotland and said goodbye to their escort of Mar warriors an hour ago. Now they were back in England. They were on their way home.

  ‘So,’ Jack said. ‘You’ll go to Dun Fries?’

  Rao nodded. ‘I’ll report to the army and ask to be posted back to Rajthana.’

  ‘They’ll agree to that?’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be due some leave after everything I’ve been through.’

  ‘And then? When you’re back?’

  Rao gave a slight smile. ‘There’s a young lady I have to see.’

  Jack grinned. ‘You’ll defy your father? Your jati?’

  ‘They can all jump off a cliff. I’ve been a fool. Damn them. Damn their wretched conventions. I’m my own man now. I’ll make my own decisions.’

  ‘Pleased to hear it.’

  ‘And you? You’ll go back to Shropshire and your daughter?’

  Jack nodded.

  ‘I’ve a lot to thank you for, Jack.’

  ‘It was nothing,’ Jack mumbled.

  ‘No. You saved my life when those wolves attacked us.’

  ‘And you stayed with me when I was freezing to death. I would have died otherwise.’

  ‘Yes.’ Rao looked into the distance. ‘I did that, didn’t I? We helped each other. That’s the way it was. We helped each other and we did our best to help our friends. We followed our dharmas, I believe.’

  Jack paused. He and Rao had been through the fire of battle together. They’d trudged across endless miles, faced dangers and hostile forces. He couldn’t just part ways with the Captain now without saying something. But what? He’d never been good at this sort of thing.