Jack kept running. William was sprinting along to his left and up ahead he could make out Jhala’s scimitar glinting in the dawn light. The captain was out in front of the company, leading the way, even as his men toppled over behind him.
Jack focused on the blade. It was like a beacon leading him along a dark path. He would follow Jhala wherever he led …
Then the boom of the guns suddenly vanished.
And now Jack was sitting cross-legged in the gazebo at the estate where he worked as head guard. It was four years ago and Jhala sat before him, looking old and tired as he related the news that Elizabeth had been captured for helping the crusade. And then Jhala offered Jack a terrible choice – help to capture William, now a rebel leader, or see Elizabeth hang …
Jack felt his breathing quicken at the memory. He’d trusted Jhala all those years, only to be betrayed when the rebellion broke out.
His hands twisted into fists. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness.
Jhala was in Worcestershire. He’d risen to the rank of general, and was now commanding the forces threatening Shropshire. Jhala was the one who would lead the invasion …
Jack forced himself to close his eyes again and drive the thoughts from his head. If he were going to master Lightning he had to forget everything but the yantra …
Breathe deeply. Step away from the material world, the world of pain and illusion.
He struggled to hold the yantra steady. Then, finally, it locked into place and burst into dazzling light.
But nothing happened.
Nothing.
He opened his eyes. He was breathing heavily. He’d managed to hold the yantra still, but no power had come to him.
Damn it. Once again, he’d failed.
He rolled on to his back and felt his breathing slowly ease.
He’d learnt three powers during his forty-three years of life. Europa, which he was still able to use. Great Health, which he’d used in Scotland and then discovered could only be used once in a lifetime. And the yantra that held back sattva-fire injuries, which he no longer needed now that he was well.
That, surely, was to be his lot. That was as far as he would progress as a siddha.
He’d spent seven months trying feverishly to gain a new power. Now he had to give up.
3
Jack gazed ahead to where the road curved out of sight behind a hill. They had reached this point so soon.
He gripped his horse’s reins tighter. ‘So, this is it.’
Sonali didn’t reply as she rode alongside him and instead cast a look across the wide, shallow valley. To their left, the hills crowded close to the road, but to their right, open fields stretched away to the more buckled countryside in the distance.
‘Once we’re round that corner we’ll be at the border,’ he said.
Sonali clenched her lips and gave him a small nod. There was a knot in the centre of her forehead and her eyes were moist. She was dressed in Indian clothing once more, wearing a red shawl and a green sari that was gathered between her legs to form a pair of loose pantaloons. The sari allowed her to mount and sit astride her horse far more easily than any woman Jack had ever met before. She didn’t have to sit sideways or even hitch up her clothing.
Jack had asked her about the sari once, and she’d explained that her ancestors were from the land of the Marathas, a region that bordered Rajthana in India. ‘This is how we Maratha women dress,’ she’d said. ‘Even when we’re born and brought up in Rajthana.’
The curve in the road drew closer. The horses’ hooves clopped steadily towards it.
Jack and Sonali had ridden along this valley twice in the past few months – the first time to allow Sonali to send a message on the sattva link to her aunt, the second time to collect a package the aunt had sent to the Leintwardine post office. Sonali had been delighted to find powders, oils, perfumes and a bottle of lime juice inside the parcel. Apparently these were necessary for her survival even in the wilds of Shropshire.
Certainly, they were necessary for making champoo.
For a moment, Jack’s mind drifted to the last time Sonali had massaged champoo into his head. She’d joked with him about his filthy hair and he’d told her to mind her own business. Then she’d gone silent for a moment as she pressed her fingers more deeply into his hair, rubbed his scalp more firmly … He could still feel her fingers even now as he thought about it.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘you don’t have to go. You can change your mind.’
‘Jack-ji.’ Sonali’s voice was husky. ‘Please. Don’t.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He stared ahead at the road. ‘I had to try.’
Sonali wiped her eyes, then fumbled behind her in one of her saddlebags. ‘Here. You should have this.’
Jack looked across and saw an envelope in her hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘The letter from Rajiv.’
‘You sure you don’t want it?’
‘It was addressed to you.’
Jack leant across and took the envelope. He studied the coiling handwriting scrawled across the paper. He couldn’t understand any of the letter, but Sonali had read it aloud to him.
It was from Captain Rajiv Rao, who’d accompanied Jack on the journey to Scotland. Jack hadn’t expected to ever hear from Rao again, but the captain had tracked down Sonali’s aunt and had written letters to both Sonali and Jack. Sonali’s aunt had included them in the package she sent to Leintwardine.
‘Strange fellow, that Rao,’ Jack said.
Sonali smiled. ‘You remember how that Scottish woman wanted to marry him?’
Jack grinned. It was good to see Sonali smiling again. ‘I remember. He was so worried about it.’
Sonali gave a small laugh.
Jack had been pleased to hear from Rao, and even more pleased to learn that instead of going back to Rajthana, Rao had ended up in Andalusia. Apparently his sweetheart, Reena Chamar, had fled Rajthana for Europe. Now Rao and she had met and were planning to marry, in defiance of Rao’s father and jati.
The letter had ended on a strange note, though. Rao had hinted that he might soon be travelling to England and that he hoped to see Jack again. He said that he had something of great importance to tell Jack, but he didn’t give any indication what it was.
Mysterious.
Jack tapped the envelope against his hand, then folded it away into his side pouch.
And now they were at the bend in the road.
Ahead, the valley narrowed and the hills loomed higher to their left. Several carts and wagons trundled along the road in both directions. In the distance, Jack could make out the smudge of the town of Leintwardine, smoke twisting up from its myriad of chimneys and vents. Closer, about a hundred yards away, a collection of striped pavilions clustered to one side of the road. Pennons bearing the cross of St George and the gold lion of the Earl of Shropshire flickered atop the tents.
Jack frowned. The pavilions would be for those guarding the border with Herefordshire. The last time he’d been here, there’d only been two guards slouching beside a tree. But now he could count perhaps fifty tents.
His eyes drifted up to the hills and he noticed dark spots bristling over the summits. Amongst the specks he made out several flagstaffs and a winking light that could only be a heliograph.
He felt a tremor of foreboding and shot a look across at the far side of the valley. There he spied gun emplacements and a second heliograph blinking back in reply.
Sonali followed his gaze. ‘What is it?’
‘Troops.’
‘Who, though?’
‘Not sure yet. Let’s find out.’ Jack nudged his horse into a canter.
Sonali did the same, and in less than a minute they reached the pavilions. Around thirty soldiers wearing crusader surcoats stood beside the road, eyeing the carts, riders and pedestrians passing by.
‘Greetings.’ Jack tipped his head as he drew up alongside one of the guards. ‘The road ahead safe?’
The guard
wiped his nose on the back of his hand. ‘Safe enough.’
‘Who’s that up there?’ Jack motioned to the troops and guns massed in the hills.
‘Heathens.’ The guard sniffed.
‘The army?’
The guard grunted and nodded.
‘So far west? I thought they were in Worcestershire.’
‘Reinforcements have arrived. They’re all over the place now.’
Jack felt a line of ice down his back. If reinforcements had arrived, then an invasion of Shropshire could be drawing nearer. And the troops ahead of him were just across the Herefordshire border – no more than a day’s march from Clun.
‘They’re letting through travellers,’ the guard said. ‘You can pass this way. There’s no danger for the present. Wouldn’t take that with you, though.’ He pointed at the musket hanging across Jack’s back.
‘Why not?’ Jack asked.
‘Rajthanans are checking everyone passing in and out. They won’t let you through with that.’
Jack rolled his tongue in his mouth as he considered this information. He’d planned to escort Sonali all the way to Leintwardine. But he didn’t want to give up the musket. He could leave it somewhere and come back for it later. But he also didn’t like the idea of crossing the border now. He could easily find himself stuck on the wrong side of the front line in a battle. How would he get back to Folly Brook if that happened?
‘Jack.’ Sonali’s voice shook. She was staring up at the troops. ‘I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go back.’
‘No.’ Jack spoke more loudly and abruptly than he’d intended. As much as he wanted Sonali to stay, he was now more concerned that she leave. If the army were planning on invading, he wanted her well away from Shropshire. The best place for her to be was in the Rajthanan lands.
Sonali frowned. ‘But I—’
‘You need to go. You can travel on from here alone. Leintwardine’s just ahead.’
It would take Sonali less than ten minutes to reach the town. And from there she could take the train to Dorsetshire. The railhead had reached Leintwardine a year ago.
She would be safe. She just had to get across the border.
Sonali’s eyes moistened. ‘I made a mistake. I’ll stay.’
Jack clenched his jaw. He had to make sure Sonali got into Herefordshire.
‘Over there.’ He nodded towards a copse just beyond the guards. ‘We can talk more privately there.’
They rode across to the trees and drew their horses to a halt beneath the spreading branches.
‘My people don’t accept you,’ Jack said. ‘You said it yourself. This isn’t your place.’
Sonali’s bottom lip trembled. ‘I could try again.’
‘No. I can’t talk Elizabeth around.’
‘I know what you’re doing.’
‘What am I doing?’
‘You’ve changed your mind. Since you saw the army up there.’
Jack studied his horse’s mane, picking at a burr stuck in the animal’s hair. ‘It’s for the best.’
‘But I could help you fight.’
Jack stared hard at her. ‘Fight your own people? You’d do that?’
‘It would perhaps be difficult.’ Her voice was almost a whisper.
‘I can’t expect you to do that. And I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. Go. Get to safety. I’ll come and find you when all this is over.’
She choked back a sob. ‘Why don’t you come with me? We could start a new life.’
‘And leave Elizabeth? And Cecily?’
‘Bring them too.’
Jack felt a stone in his throat. This moment was unbearable. And yet he didn’t want it to end, because that would mean he and Sonali had parted. Quite probably for ever. ‘My family and I can’t leave. These are our people. We have to fight for our freedom.’
‘Must you? Isn’t it better to live?’
‘Live as a slave?’
‘Not as a slave.’ She looked down. ‘You remember I said I ran away from home when I was young? I lived with impure jatis. I became an outcaste. I know what it’s like to be at the bottom. And as bad as it is, it’s better to be poor and alive than dead.’
‘You talk as though we’ve already lost, as though the crusade will fail.’
She went silent for a moment. ‘I don’t know. It’ll be a hard fight.’
Jack was well aware of this. He knew better than she did what any battle would be like. He knew there was little hope of the crusaders resisting a full-scale assault by the army. And yet he had to hope that somehow they would succeed. He hadn’t supported the First Crusade. But he couldn’t run away now. This was the last stand for his people. Their last chance. If Shropshire fell, the rebellion would be snuffed out.
‘We have to try,’ he said. ‘And you have to leave.’
A tear bled from Sonali’s eye and trailed black eyeliner down her cheek.
‘I’ll be able to fight better knowing you’re safe,’ he said.
Sonali sobbed and further tears slid down her face. ‘I’ll wait for you. At my aunt’s.’
‘I’ll come for you.’ Jack’s voice was thick. ‘Now go while you can.’
He slapped the rump of her horse and the animal bolted. Sonali dragged at the reins and quickly got the creature under control again. She circled round and for a moment Jack thought she was going to ride back to him. But then she jabbed with her heels and urged the horse into a gallop, the animal’s hooves kicking up chunks of turf. She charged back to the road and rode swiftly away towards Herefordshire.
She didn’t look back once.
Jack waited beside the trees for a long time. He wasn’t sure how long. Perhaps it was twenty minutes. Perhaps it was longer. At any rate, he was still sitting astride his horse watching the road long after Sonali had disappeared.
Finally, he sighed and massaged his eyes with his fingers.
She was gone. And that was by far for the best.
He’d been a fool. Had he really thought that he and Sonali had a future together?
He must have been mad.
It was close to midnight when Jack, weary from the long day of riding to and from the border, reached Folly Brook. He tethered the mare to a tree and was about to walk to his hut when Elizabeth materialised like a ghost out of the dark. She looked sombre, her face taut and her eyes glassy.
He was pleased to see his daughter – of course he was – but he didn’t want another argument. Not now. ‘Elizabeth, what are you doing? It’s late.’
‘I need to speak to you.’
‘Of course. But we can do that tomorrow.’
‘No.’ She stepped closer. ‘I wanted to say sorry.’
‘Sorry?’
‘For, you know. How I’ve been with that woman.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘Sonali.’
Jack felt warmth bloom in his chest. Elizabeth was his little girl. It had been painful to be at odds with her. Now she was coming back to him.
‘Elizabeth.’ His voice was hoarse. He opened his arms and she fell into his embrace.
‘I’m so sorry, Father.’
‘Shush, shush.’ He patted her on the back. ‘There’s no need to say anything more. I understand. I’ve made some mistakes too. I should have thought about how you’d feel.’
Elizabeth drew back. ‘No, I should have thought about how you’d feel. It was just … I still think about Mother.’
‘I think about her too. We’ll always remember her. When all this is over, we’ll go to her grave again and leave flowers. Like we used to.’
Elizabeth nodded and sniffled.
Suddenly Jack had an idea. ‘I want you to have this.’ He reached under his tunic and drew out Katelin’s Celtic cross necklace. Katelin had given it to him on her deathbed and he’d been wearing it ever since.
‘No. It’s all right. You don’t have to.’
‘Take it. I should have given it to you a long time ago. I always meant to.’
Elizabeth grasped the necklace a
nd weighed it in her palm. She stared at the intricate designs that knotted about the cross. ‘I remember her wearing it all the time.’
‘She told me it’s a family heirloom. Apparently lots of people have them in Wales. It’s one of many, but this one is ours. Our memory of her.’
Elizabeth tied the cord about her neck and the cross hung down over her chest. She gave Jack a small, hopeful smile. ‘I’ll take good care of it. Thank you, Father.’
Jack sat on the rocks and gazed at the churning water. The brook swirled into a deep pool at this point before tumbling away in the direction of the River Clun. Sunbeams filtered through the trees and shattered into diamonds on the water’s surface.
This was where Sonali used to bathe. Jack hadn’t meant to visit the spot, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew there was no point thinking about Sonali, but she kept appearing in his head …
Memories clouded his mind.
He saw Sonali in her room in Mahajan’s castle, the place where he’d first met her … Then on the day she’d begun training the lads at the House of Sorcery … Then kneading champoo into his hair … Drawing close to him and kissing him on the lips …
He had to put her out of his mind. She would be safe in Dorsetshire now. He had to forget her and concentrate on preparing for the defence of Shropshire. He couldn’t let himself get distracted.
Perhaps he would see her again one day, but that would be in some distant future that was hard to even imagine at the moment.
He had to let go.
Then suddenly it was easy. The vision of Sonali blinked away and instead he saw Katelin on her deathbed. Her damp hair was plastered to her scalp, her chest was heaving and her pale hand reached up to touch his cheek …
He felt a twinge of guilt. Hadn’t he been neglecting Katelin’s memory? Wasn’t his affection for Sonali a betrayal?
‘You’re not forgotten, Katelin,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll always be with me, and Elizabeth.’
He felt strangely light. Sonali was fading from his mind and being replaced by Katelin.
The War of the Grail Page 4