‘Potions?’
Elizabeth’s eyes blazed. She pulled a lock of her hair out from under her bonnet and held it up. ‘For her hair.’
‘Champoo? You mean champoo?’
It was true, Sonali did make that strange concoction the Rajthanans put in their hair. He’d often seen her stirring together the egg yolks, lime juice and meal before straining the mixture through a piece of cloth.
‘I don’t know what it’s called,’ Elizabeth said. ‘All I know is she’s always brewing up some mischief and you can’t see it, Father. You just can’t see it. Maybe that’s because she’s been putting that wickedness in your hair as well.’
Jack hesitated. He sensed everyone in the small crowd staring at him intently. The wind ruffled his long hair. Several strands had broken free from his ponytail and now fluttered about his forehead. He was suddenly aware of how light and clean they were. Sonali had convinced him to let her rub some of her champoo into his hair a few times. But he didn’t think anyone knew.
He quickly brushed the hair away from his face. ‘Listen, Elizabeth. Sonali wouldn’t steal from us. You need to stop this now—’
‘She’s a witch!’ Elizabeth’s voice was high-pitched and cracked.
The gathering went deathly silent for a moment and then mutters flickered from person to person.
Witch.
The word hovered in the air, seeming to echo between the walls of the huts.
Jack felt his face go cold and then slowly hot. How could Elizabeth use the word ‘witch’? Hadn’t he told her burning witches was evil? He’d been certain Elizabeth would never believe in such cruel nonsense.
Elizabeth glared back at him, her eyes burning and her chin raised defiantly. She’d always been a headstrong girl, but never like this. She’d never so brazenly challenged him.
For a second he felt as though he were going to raise his hand to her, something he’d never done, save for the occasional smack when she was very young.
But then Sonali grasped his arm. ‘Jack, leave it.’
He swivelled round. Sonali was staring up at him, her eyes moist and her brow tightening into a knot.
‘Leave it,’ she said again, her voice husky.
Then she spun on her heel and scurried away, holding one hand to her eyes to stop the tears. The crowd parted to let her through and geese honked and scattered as she rushed past.
Jack turned to Elizabeth. ‘You. In here.’
He grasped Elizabeth’s arm, shoved her into the cottage and slammed the door shut behind him. It was dim inside – the shutters were all closed and the central hearth contained only glowing embers. Elizabeth stared at him, the ruddy light tingeing her face.
‘What the hell has got into your head?’ he said. ‘How many times have I talked to you about witches? There are no witches. It’s just a wicked old custom.’
Elizabeth’s eyes shone and her bottom lip trembled. ‘Maybe I was wrong to call her that. But she’s still a thief.’
‘I don’t believe that for a second.’
‘She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, Father.’
‘Wrapped around …? I can’t believe the nonsense you’re talking today.’
‘It’s like you’re in a dream. You can’t see what she’s doing to you.’
‘She’s doing nothing to me.’
‘Oh really? Then why do you take her side over your own daughter’s?’
She brushed past him and fled out of the door, tears welling in her eyes. Her husband, Godwin, rushed over to her. Their child, Cecily, lay cradled in his arms. Elizabeth paused to check the baby for a moment and then led Godwin away from the cottage.
Jack was about to go after them, but stopped himself. His anger was draining away now. But his mind was whirling. What would he even say to Elizabeth if he caught up to her?
He rubbed his forehead as he watched Elizabeth, Godwin and his precious granddaughter disappear round the corner of a hut.
Christ.
Elizabeth was going mad.
2
Sonali wasn’t in her hut. Nor was she in the House of Sorcery when Jack put his head in there. Nor was she in the spot on the village green where Jack knew she liked to sit and stare out across the valley.
Jack paused on the edge of the village. There was only one place she could be: down by the brook, where she washed herself every morning. He set off along the track through the forest. Birds warbled high up in the canopy, and hawthorn and honeysuckle flowers swayed in the breeze. Everything was so quiet and peaceful, he could barely believe the argument between Elizabeth and Sonali had even happened.
He paused as he neared the place where Sonali bathed. Ahead of him, a line of boulders obscured the brook, but he could hear the water babbling and rushing. He retied his ponytail and straightened his tunic. He felt somewhat foolish fixing his appearance like this, but he couldn’t help himself.
He peered up the path. Would Sonali be washing herself now? Surely not. The Rajthanans were obsessed with cleanliness, and Sonali was no exception, but even they only washed themselves once a day.
On the other hand, how much did he really know about Rajthanan women? Very little. Although he’d spent a lot of time around Rajthanans in the past, Rajthanan women had always been strictly out of bounds. He would have been executed for being so familiar with Sonali if they’d been in a Rajthanan-controlled part of England.
He’d been more than just familiar.
He’d kissed her.
‘What are you doing?’
Jack jumped slightly at the sound of the voice nearby. Sonali was walking along the path towards him, still wearing her English cloak and dress. Her face was solemn and her eyes were rimmed with red. Her kohl eyeliner had run, but she’d managed to wash most of the streaks from her cheeks. She stopped about four feet away from him and looked up. Foliage hovered behind her and a shaft of sunlight made her earrings sparkle.
‘You all right?’ he asked.
She nodded and looked away into the forest.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Don’t know what got into Elizabeth.’
‘She finds it hard to accept me.’
‘No, she doesn’t. She just had a strange turn—’
‘You haven’t noticed the way she talks to me. The way she looks at me. She doesn’t trust me.’
Jack frowned. He hadn’t noticed anything like that. ‘She’ll come around. All the village will. We’ve spent years seeing the Rajthanans as the enemy—’
‘It’s not just because I’m Rajthanan.’ Sonali faced Jack again.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean …’ She gazed at the ground, searching for the right words. ‘A daughter might find it hard if her father … If he had affections for someone new.’
Jack stood still for a moment. He hadn’t considered this before. ‘What? You think Elizabeth’s jealous?’ He cleared his throat. It was strange to be speaking aloud about this. ‘Jealous of you?’
‘Jealous.’ Sonali sounded the word out carefully. Her English had improved since she’d come to Shropshire, but she still struggled with the language at times. ‘Yes, I believe “jealous” is the right word. But not just that. Perhaps it’s hard for her to see her father showing interest in another woman. Perhaps she sees it as betraying her mother.’
‘Betraying?’ For a moment, Jack saw an image of his dead wife, Katelin, in his mind’s eye. Could Elizabeth really think he would betray Katelin’s memory? ‘No, that’s not possible.’
‘Why not?’
Jack spluttered. The conversation had taken a surprising turn and he was struggling to digest everything Sonali was saying. He’d never been good at this sort of thing.
‘Look.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Elizabeth doesn’t even know there’s any …’ His voice trailed off. How to explain himself?
‘Any what?’
‘Any … friendship between us. But we’ve hardly … and we’ve never let on to anyone.’ They’d kissed only a f
ew times and this had always been when no one else was around. ‘No one could have seen us.’
‘Don’t you think a daughter can tell what’s in her father’s heart? Don’t you think she can see the little gestures he makes, the tiny signs that give away his thoughts?’
‘You think so?’
‘I’m sure it will be obvious to her there’s something going on between us.’
Jack breathed out sharply. Could this be true? Did Elizabeth know, or at least suspect? And what was it she would be guessing about anyway? What was going on between him and Sonali? Not even he knew. ‘You could be right.’
Sonali nodded and brushed back her hair, the bangles encrusting her arm making a jingling sound.
‘So, that means there is something between us,’ he said.
His words seemed to jolt her with their frankness. She looked up and frowned. ‘Of course there is.’
‘It’s just that … When we’ve been together, you’ve always pulled away. I wasn’t sure …’ Whenever they’d kissed, she’d been quick to stop and rush away, as if she were upset about something.
Sonali pursed her lips. ‘Yes. It’s true. I have been like that.’ She sighed. ‘This is so very difficult. I wanted to, but I couldn’t see any future for us.’ A fresh tear blossomed in her eye. ‘That’s why I have to leave Folly Brook.’
Jack’s shoulders slackened. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs. This was more of a blow than he liked to admit. ‘You don’t have to leave.’
‘I’ll go to my aunt’s in Dorsetshire. It’s for the best. This thing can never work between us. We can’t carry on sneaking around. But Elizabeth will never accept me. Your people will never accept me.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘We’re from different worlds.’ She stared hard at Jack. ‘Maybe we should never have met.’
Tears flooded her eyes and she choked back a sob. She rushed past him and fled along the path in the direction of the village.
Jack didn’t even think about pursuing her. First Elizabeth had run away from him. Now Sonali.
Nothing seemed to make sense any more.
‘Alban’s done it,’ Mark said as Jack rounded the corner of the House of Sorcery.
Jack halted. ‘Done what?’
Mark grinned and put his hand on Alban’s shoulder. ‘He’s got the Lightning yantra.’
Jack allowed a smile to slide across his lips. He glanced across the meadow at the back of the house. His other pupils sat cross-legged on the grass, either studying sheets of paper or staring at the Lightning yantra, which was painted on a banner that had been strung up between two trees. The complex, circular design was the most powerful yantra Jack and his charges knew, and it was the only one useful in war. Kanvar the Sikh had shown it to them months ago, and since then the apprentices had been trying to learn it as quickly as they could. To date, ten of them, including Mark, had mastered it.
Alban would make eleven.
‘He managed it this morning.’ Mark placed the stick he used like a drill sergeant’s cane under his arm. He was a few years older than the other lads and had always been Jack’s ablest student.
Jack looked Alban up and down. The boy was tall, gangly and probably no older than sixteen. He was one of the many youths who’d come to Folly Brook to learn the ways of the enemy’s yoga. It had been Jack’s plan for a long time to use the Rajthanans’ powers against them.
‘So,’ Jack said to Alban, ‘you’re certain of this? You’re certain you’ve learnt the power?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Alban replied. ‘I could show you right now. I reckon I could lightning that tree over there. Reckon I could knock it down.’
‘No!’ Mark cuffed Alban over the head. ‘Don’t you listen to anything the master tells you? Never use a power.’ Mark looked across at Jack. ‘Isn’t that right, sir?’
Jack nodded slowly. ‘You must hold back, Alban. The law of karma, remember? When you learn a power you’ll feel like using it right away. But you mustn’t. The moment you do, you’ll become blocked. You’ll never be able to learn another power.’
Alban rubbed his head where he’d been hit. ‘I remember, sir. I just wanted to show you I was telling the truth.’
‘That’s not the way to do it,’ Mark said sharply, then faced Jack. ‘But he is telling the truth. I was with him. I sensed him smelting. He’s not lying.’
‘Good.’ Jack trusted Mark’s judgement. Mark had learnt well how to detect when a person was truly smelting sattva and on the verge of using a power. He wouldn’t have made a mistake.
Jack placed his hand on Alban’s shoulder. ‘Well done, lad. You are now a siddha, one of the perfected ones. Take the rest of the day off. Then get back here tomorrow and start on the next yantra.’
Alban beamed. ‘Thank you, Master Casey.’
As Alban turned and left, Jack drew Mark aside, saying, ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘What’s that, sir?’ Mark asked.
Jack looked at the ground for a second. This was going to be difficult. ‘Don’t tell the others yet, but Sonali’s said she’s leaving.’
‘When’s she coming back?’
‘She’s not. She’s going for good.’
‘Ah.’ Mark tapped the cane against his leg. ‘Not the best news, sir.’
That was true enough. Sonali had been helping to train the pupils for the past seven months. She’d been instrumental in helping many of them master Lightning. She’d also supplied the group with two minor yantras. But more than all this, the lads had become attached to her. It had bolstered them to know that a real Rajthanan siddha was helping them. Jack had noticed them walking taller and speaking with confidence about facing the army when the time finally came.
‘It’s not to do with what happened the other day?’ Mark said. ‘I heard there was some sort of argument.’
‘That might have had something to do with it. But it’s been building up for a while.’
‘You know, sir, me and all the lads back Sonali. Others might think different, but as far as we’re concerned, she’s one of us.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that.’
‘Perhaps you could talk to her. Convince her to stay.’
‘I’ve tried that. Believe me. Her mind’s made up.’
‘It would be a pity to lose her.’
‘Aye.’ Jack looked away into the trees. He felt tired. ‘But she’s a Rajthanan. This isn’t her place. She was always going to have to go back to her people one day.’
Mark nodded solemnly. He was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Perhaps Kanvar will come back.’
Jack looked back at Mark. The young man was doing his best to stay hopeful. He was dedicated to the small force Jack had assembled, to the point where he seemed to have no life outside of it at all. He’d once told Jack he was an orphan, so perhaps he really did have nothing else. Perhaps the House of Sorcery and its pupils was all he’d ever had.
Jack rubbed his chin. Kanvar had left nine months ago, saying he would be back soon. He’d never returned and never sent word. Perhaps he’d never intended to come back, or perhaps something had happened to him. There was no way of knowing.
Jack gave Mark a firm smile. ‘Yes, perhaps he’ll come back. We can only hope.’
Jack sat in the dark, his legs crossed, his back straight and his hands on his knees. On the other side of the hut, Saleem shifted on his straw bed and muttered in his sleep. The lad had been living with Jack for the past seven months. Jack had found this irritating at first, but now he was so used to having Saleem around that it would seem strange if the lad moved out.
Jack closed his eyes. Outside, the wind stirred the trees and shook the window shutters. Further away, he heard people talking – it was only ten o’clock at night and some of the villagers were still up.
He took a deep breath, felt the cool air flow down his nostrils, hit the back of his throat and fan out into his lungs.
The Lightning yant
ra. He would try it one more time. He’d been attempting to use it for months, without any success. Of course, that was understandable as he was a blocked siddha. But on two occasions now he’d broken the law of karma and developed new powers. His guru, Jhala, had told him this was impossible. Kanvar had told him no one had ever done that before. And yet, miraculously, he’d achieved it.
Only he couldn’t do it again.
The Lightning yantra wouldn’t work. The lesser yantra Sonali had taught him – Find Water – wouldn’t work either. He’d memorised both of these designs in the space of seven months, a daunting task.
But he couldn’t use them.
He brought the Lightning yantra to his mind’s eye. The image circled before him, white on black. He concentrated on each tiny detail, each line, curlicue and angle. He had to hold the entire shape still in his mind, without any other thoughts intruding, in order to use the power.
But his mind was troubled. It was like a rippling pool and he couldn’t still it.
Images harried him.
For a moment he saw the dead ewe with the diseased leg, then Lord Fitzalan lying in his bed, then flames and war and hordes of circling crows …
Was England truly cursed? Was the land truly sick?
An explosion burst in his mind and he saw Folly Brook burning, saw villagers fleeing. Saw Elizabeth screaming …
He quickly forced the visions from his head. But now further memories flooded over him …
He was back in Ragusa, standing in the trench with his old friend William. Dawn was hovering on the edge of the sky and the guns and mortars had fallen silent. The conch-shaped horns began roaring. First one sounded far off in the distance, then others responded, the blaring flickering along the trench.
The hair stood up on the back of Jack’s neck.
It was time.
Captain Jhala strode along the trench, bellowing at his men. He stepped up on to the fire step and raised his scimitar above his head. He looked back at his troops for a moment, then shouted ‘Charge!’ and clambered over the top. The men gave a joint cry and swarmed up after their commander. Musket in hand, Jack scrambled over the edge and bolted across the muddy field with his comrades. Gunfire rumbled. A storm of bullets and shot shrieked about him. Men screamed as they tumbled to the ground.
The War of the Grail Page 3