He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know for certain this meeting point is the Grail. But I’ve been talking to Kanvar, and I think it could be. It’s a complicated matter and I don’t understand it all fully yet myself. You’ll just have to trust me about this.’
‘You told Henry you wouldn’t look for the Grail,’ Elizabeth said.
‘I know. But he wanted me to go all the way to Scotland. This spot is closer.’
Elizabeth huffed and fired a look at Godwin, clearly expecting her husband to say something.
Godwin shuffled, looked furtively at the ground, then raised his chin and said, ‘I thought the Grail was some sort of goblet.’
‘That’s how it looks in the drawings,’ Jack said. ‘But how many people have seen it? Galahad, Oswin and not many others. Who’s to say what it really looks like?’
Elizabeth scowled. ‘In the stories only a pure knight could ever touch the Grail. You sure you’re pure enough?’
That made Jack pause for a moment. ‘I don’t know what it’ll take to use the Grail. I don’t know if I’m pure enough. I’ll just have to try my best.’
‘Is it because Kanvar thinks you’re special?’ Elizabeth said. ‘You think that’s why you can use the power?’
The thought had crossed Jack’s mind. He’d quickly dismissed it, but it was still hovering at the back of his head. He had a special ability. An ability, according to Kanvar, no one had ever had before. Couldn’t that mean he would be the one to find the Grail again? ‘I don’t think I’m anything special. You know that, Elizabeth. I’m just an old soldier with a few tricks up his sleeve. All I can do is try to use the Grail and hope for the best.’
Elizabeth’s eyes glistened. ‘It’s dangerous. What about the army? You said they’re in Staffordshire now.’
‘They’re still in the east of Staffordshire. Kanvar and I are heading to the north-west, near the Shropshire border. We’ll be safe enough.’
Elizabeth’s voice turned hard. ‘And you’ll leave the rest of us here? To face the enemy without you?’
Jack felt a flush of irritation. He’d come here to explain where he was going. He wasn’t here for an argument. Elizabeth was upset and clearly worried about him, but all the same, she was his daughter and should show him some respect. ‘I’ll be back in four days. The Welsh won’t be ready for a week, and Jhala’s forces are stuck in Ludlow. I’ll be back before any of them get here.’
He was less certain than he sounded. There was a chance Jhala’s troops could defeat the crusaders in Ludlow and advance within days. The men commanded by the Lord of the Marches could assemble sooner than expected. Jack was even worried that Henry might try something. He was taking a risk, but on balance he thought it was for the best.
Four days was all the time he needed. Just four days.
He looked around at the small gathering. ‘This is my final decision.’ His voice came out harsher than he’d meant it to. He sounded like a captain commanding his troops. He tried to soften his tone as he said, ‘It’s getting late. I leave in a few hours. I have to get ready.’
He stood quickly and brushed the rushes from his tunic. Saleem scrambled to his feet and stood beside him.
Jack glanced at Godwin and then Elizabeth, who now had a tear crawling down her cheek. Jack had upset her and argued with her, but he’d had little choice.
He couldn’t think of anything further to say, so he shoved the door open and strode out into the night, Saleem scurrying after him.
His thoughts whirled as he trudged back towards his hut.
Saleem pattered along beside him. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Jack sighed. He should have expected this. Of course Saleem would want to come.
‘Look,’ Jack spoke without turning. ‘You can’t come this time, all right?’
Saleem went silent for a second, but still kept up with Jack’s long strides. ‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s dangerous.’
‘Scotland was dangerous. London was dangerous.’
‘It’s different this time. You need to stay here to look after your mother and sisters.’
Saleem’s mother and five sisters were still living in the village. A hut had been built specially for them a few months ago.
‘My family?’ Saleem said. ‘Why would I need to look after them? You said the enemy won’t be here until you get back.’
‘I know what I said, but I also know I could be wrong.’ Jack stopped suddenly and turned. ‘You can’t follow me everywhere. This is a desperate measure. It might not work. I might not make it back. I have to know there’s someone I can rely on back here – and you’re one of the few people I can rely on now.’ The words tumbled out of his mouth, but as he was saying them he realised he meant it.
This wasn’t just an excuse to get Saleem to stay. The lad was hardly a lad any more. He was twenty years old and had proved himself in a tight spot several times before. With Saleem here and Mark in charge of the acolytes, Jack could leave with a relatively clear conscience. He wouldn’t have abandoned the village … or Elizabeth.
Saleem gave his usual shy smile and gazed at the ground. Then he frowned slightly, stuck out his chest and lifted his chin to meet Jack’s gaze. ‘You mean that, Master Casey?’
‘Aye. I do.’
Saleem breathed in sharply. ‘Then I’ll stay.’
It was ten o’clock by the time Jack and Kanvar were ready to leave. They stood beside their horses near the edge of the village. In the darkness, Jack’s pure-black mare was almost invisible, but Kanvar’s white charger shimmered in the moonlight.
Only Saleem had come to say farewell. Jack wasn’t expecting to see the rest of the village – he hadn’t told anyone he was leaving as he didn’t want to cause any more alarm than he had to. But he had expected to see Elizabeth and Godwin at least. Clearly Elizabeth was still upset with him.
But he and Kanvar couldn’t wait any longer. They had to go.
Jack was about to mount his horse when he heard footsteps. Elizabeth and Godwin slid out of the darkness, Elizabeth cradling Cecily in her arms.
Jack felt his throat tighten. Elizabeth had come, but her face was grim and her mouth was held firmly shut. It didn’t look as though she’d forgiven him yet.
He didn’t want to part like this. Not now, when enemies were pressing in from all sides.
He fought back a rising tide of emotion. He had to stay strong now. Had to look as though he were sure he was doing the right thing.
He strode across to Saleem, patted the lad on the shoulder and said, ‘You take care of everyone here in the village, all right?’
Saleem nodded, looked down and smiled slightly. Jack could tell, even in the dark, that the lad’s cheeks were reddening.
Jack then moved on to Godwin, who stood with his chest puffed out, his chin raised and his oversized longsword attached to his belt.
Jack shook Godwin’s hand. ‘You’re reeve while I’m away.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Godwin sniffed and drew himself up taller. ‘I won’t let you down.’
Finally, Jack turned to Elizabeth. Her features had softened now and there was a tear in the corner of one of her eyes.
‘Elizabeth,’ Jack said, his voice breaking.
‘Father. Don’t you remember the stories about Galahad and Oswin? They were both taken up to heaven when they touched the Grail.’
‘I remember, but—’
‘What if the Grail kills you?’
He gripped her shoulder. ‘I’m not going to die. You still have Mother’s necklace?’
Elizabeth handed Cecily over to Godwin and drew the necklace out from under her dress. The metal was dark with age, but it still glinted as it caught the moonlight.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Mother will protect you and Cecily, I’m sure.’
He turned to where his two army-issue muskets were leaning against a tree. He grasped one and handed it to Elizabeth.
She frowned. ‘But you always said no.’
Elizabet
h had, for many months, been trying to get Jack to teach her how to use a musket. So far, he’d refused. It was normal for a woman to learn to use a bow and arrow so that she could hunt. But a musket was a weapon of war. He’d been against her learning how to use one.
Until now. He was leaving, and he wanted her to be able to protect herself in any way she could.
‘Take it,’ he said. ‘I know what I said before, but I was wrong. Saleem will teach you how to use it. Start practising.’
She nodded seriously, grasped the musket and gazed at the gleaming barrel.
Jack stepped away from her. He felt as though he were dying. He had to leave now or he never would.
‘Right, then.’ He tried to speak confidently, but there was a shake in his voice. ‘I’ll be back in four days.’
He slung the second musket across his back, turned to his mare and swung himself into the saddle. Kanvar had already mounted his white charger.
Jack gave Elizabeth a final glance. Then he circled his horse round and set off down the path, Kanvar riding at his side. He looked back only once and saw the specks of his family and Saleem standing in front of the white huts.
He turned away and spurred his horse into a gallop.
‘Please God,’ he whispered under his breath. ‘I know I haven’t always been a good Christian, but keep my family safe. Protect them until I get back. That’s all I ask.’
PART TWO
7
Jack heard the jingle and clop of horses coming from the road ahead. He yanked at his reins, drew his mare to a halt and peered into the darkness. In the moonlight, he could see the path curving away through the forest and disappearing into the shadows.
Kanvar stopped his horse beside Jack’s. ‘What is it?’ Despite his many powers, Kanvar couldn’t match Jack’s uncannily good hearing.
‘Someone’s coming,’ Jack said.
Kanvar frowned and drew out his pocket watch. ‘It’s nearly midnight. Who could be out so late?’
‘Don’t know. We’d better get off the road.’
Jack angled his mare down an embankment to the left of the path. Kanvar followed and they rode across to a row of trees at the base of the slope, where they dismounted, tethered the horses and crouched down in the undergrowth. They sat still, watching the road.
The clatter of the horses’ hooves grew louder. Listening carefully, Jack made out eight or nine animals, plus the grating of cartwheels and now footsteps as well. It was a large party.
Strange. A large party was moving along the road in the middle of the night.
For a wild moment Jack thought it might be the army. But he quickly dispelled the idea. He and Kanvar were still in Shropshire, just north-east of Shawbury. It was unlikely the army could have made it here so quickly from either Staffordshire or Worcestershire.
And in any case, the approaching people weren’t marching in time. They weren’t organised troops.
Jack rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. He was tired. Since leaving Folly Brook, he and Kanvar had ridden hard across a landscape haunted by war and pestilence. They’d travelled at night, to avoid Kanvar being seen, but as they’d camped during the day they’d seen numerous English crusaders marching south towards the front, and many more women and children fleeing to the north. Columns of black smoke from the pyres of dead livestock had darkened the sky …
Jack shook his head and shrugged off his weariness. He had to stay alert.
Now, figures materialised on the road. First came two men on horseback, then men and women on foot, then more riders and four mule carts. They all looked English, and most were dressed in ordinary peasant clothing – except for the riders, who wore surcoats bearing an emblem that Jack couldn’t make out in the dark. The carts were laden with furniture, barrels, sacks, rolled-up tapestries and what appeared to be several glass windows in frames.
Jack stared harder. This looked like a wealthy household on the move. Windows were rare in Shropshire and so expensive that lords would cart them along if they moved home.
The final vehicle carried a man who was sitting on top of an ornate chest. He wore a red, fur-trimmed cloak and his fingers were covered in rings that glittered in the moonlight. Clearly he was the lord.
But why was he travelling with all his possessions in the middle of the night? And where was he going? The group were travelling west, away from Staffordshire. Were they heading for Shawbury? Or Shrewsbury, even?
Jack stood up. ‘I’m going to speak to them.’
Kanvar frowned. ‘Are you sure? Is it safe?’
‘They’re English. They won’t harm me.’
He pushed through the undergrowth and scrambled up the embankment. He reached the side of the road, waved his arms above his head and called out. One of the riders peeled away from the others and trotted his horse across to Jack.
The man looked down from his saddle. ‘What do you want?’
‘Just news of the road east,’ Jack replied.
The man narrowed his eyes and looked Jack up and down. His surcoat was emblazoned with a sign Jack didn’t recognise. ‘To the east? I advise you not to go that way.’
‘Why not? The Rajthanans?’
The man snorted. ‘The heathens are still many miles away.’ He licked his lips. ‘No. It’s the Devil you need to worry about.’
‘The Devil?’
‘Aye. The Evil One. He stalks the land here. We’re leaving this forsaken place.’
Jack blinked. This was all very hard to believe ‘You’re sure of this?’
‘Aye, I’m sure. You can choose to believe or not, as you wish. But I warn you, don’t carry on up this road.’ The man nudged his horse with his feet, and the animal trotted away after the rest of the group.
The small party was already disappearing round a bend in the road. Jack could just make out the lord sitting on top of his chest, bouncing as the cart juddered over the uneven ground.
Jack slid back down the embankment and pushed his way through the bushes to Kanvar.
‘Just heard something strange.’ He began unhitching his horse. ‘The man up there said the Devil’s walking around this place.’ He paused and looked over his shoulder at Kanvar. ‘You know who the Devil is?’
‘The adversary of God in your religion.’
‘That’s it. I can’t understand it. The people here are superstitious. But this?’
Kanvar stroked his beard. ‘It is strange indeed.’
They swung themselves into their saddles, rode back up the embankment and pressed on down the path. They spurred into a gallop, the horses’ hooves thudding on the soft earth. The black trees flickered past to either side and the wind streamed over their faces.
For a moment, Jack thought of Elizabeth and the others standing on the edge of Folly Brook as he rode away. They looked so small and frail, as if the night were about to swallow them up.
Had he made the right decision in leaving them? Had he risked abandoning them to the enemy for no good reason? He had no idea whether he would really find the Grail, let alone be able to use it. The whole idea was mad. Perhaps, after living in Shropshire for so many years, he was becoming as superstitious as his fellow countrymen. And yet, after he’d heard about the Great Yantra, he’d started to believe anything was possible.
It was just over a day since they’d set out from Folly Brook. Staffordshire lay ahead of them to the east. Before the night was out, they should reach the meeting point on the edge of the yantra. And then Jack would find out whether he could use the great power, whether he could save England in its hour of need.
The trees dispersed and the road snaked off across open marshland. Thousands of frogs croaked across the plain. The scent of rot hung in the air. Occasionally, the road itself turned boggy and the horses splashed through shallow pools. Overhead, the stars trembled in the clear sky and the full moon turned the landscape silver.
After they’d ridden for around two miles, the marshes receded on the right side of the road. Fields of wheat and barle
y rolled past and Jack spotted a few scattered cottages in the distance.
Around five minutes later, a village about twice the size of Folly Brook loomed ahead up the road. The huts – which included several longhouses and a tiny stone church – were spread out along the edge of a forest.
Jack drew his mare to a halt and stared at the cottages. No lights flickered in the village and there were no other signs of life. He couldn’t even see a trace of smoke rising from any of the roofs. All the same, he and Kanvar couldn’t risk riding straight through the hamlet. The villagers might be asleep – but if any of them rose and saw Kanvar riding past, there could be trouble.
‘We’d better go round it,’ Jack said.
He guided his horse off the road to the left, Kanvar following immediately behind. They’d avoided all the towns and villages along the way, making a wide detour round the city of Shrewsbury in particular.
The swamp slurped beneath the horses’ hooves. The stench of rotting vegetation floated up from the ground and the frogs chirped incessantly. At one point, Jack’s mare almost slipped over when her leg plunged into a deep bog. But she thrashed with her other legs and managed to scramble to safety.
‘The ground is too treacherous,’ Kanvar said. ‘Perhaps we should go another way.’
Jack peered ahead. The line of the woods was less than a hundred yards away. Once they made it to the trees, and past the village, they could strike back to the road.
‘No. We’ll carry on. We’re almost there.’ Jack spurred his mare ahead again, and she waded and slipped through the deepening water.
Kanvar followed behind for a few more paces, but then called out, ‘What’s that?’
Jack glanced over his shoulder and saw the Sikh pointing towards the ground in the direction of the village.
‘What are you talking about?’ Jack called back.
‘There’s something there.’
Kanvar circled his horse round and splashed towards the huts.
The War of the Grail Page 8