The War of the Grail

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The War of the Grail Page 17

by Geoffrey Wilson


  He stood and gazed into the distance, searching the hills. The overcast sky was silver and the light gave everything a mysterious sheen.

  Where would the villagers have gone? Did they have a plan? Was Elizabeth with them?

  He heard a neigh, looked back and saw Kanvar approaching with the horses, along with Rao and Sonali, who had fetched their own steeds.

  Jack motioned to the tracks. ‘This is it, I reckon. I have to get after them.’

  ‘Look,’ Rao said, ‘before you go, there’s something very important I need to discuss with you.’

  ‘More important than finding my daughter?’ Jack asked.

  ‘No … well, in a way, yes. It’s important for the future of your people.’

  Jack turned to mount his horse. ‘All I care about right now is finding Elizabeth.’

  ‘Please.’ Sonali grasped Jack’s arm. There were fresh tears in her eyes. ‘Just listen for a minute.’

  Jack searched her face and felt his resolve melting. This was still the same Sonali he’d met in Scotland, the same Sonali he’d come to care about.

  He sighed and turned to Rao. ‘What is it?’

  Rao pressed his lips together firmly. ‘The Maharaja of Europe stands poised to grant England independence. Your people will be freed.’

  17

  Jack felt light-headed for a moment. ‘What the hell are you talking about? Is this a joke?’

  ‘I assure you, it is not,’ Rao replied. ‘Let me explain. Since we parted, I have given the things you said to me much thought. I have investigated Vadula’s rule of this country as best as I’ve been able to. And I have to say, I’m shocked by what I’ve found out. Shocked and appalled. Vadula has ruled this place like a tyrant.

  ‘Anyway, I became firmly of the view that something must be done about it. As you know, I met Reena Chamar in Andalusia. While I was there, I also made contact with the Raja of Granada. He happens to be a member of my clan and a personal friend of my father—’

  ‘Of your father? I thought your father would have disowned you by now. Because of your lady friend.’

  Rao cleared his throat and looked at his boots for a moment. ‘I have not yet told my father about Reena. I will – but only when the time is right. At any rate, that is not important at the moment. My point is that I spoke to the Raja and I was very surprised to learn he was sympathetic to my views. It seems many in the European Civil Service are. There is something of a power struggle going on, you see, between the priest and army jatis. The priest jatis are on Vadula’s side, while the Raja and others draw support from the army jatis. At any rate, even the Maharaja of Europe has become concerned. With the uprising in al-Saxony looking as though it will spread, the Maharaja wants the English Question resolved quickly. And it looks as though he wants Vadula out.’

  ‘That’s all very well,’ Jack said. ‘But if Vadula goes, we’ll just get some other raja sent over here, won’t we?’

  ‘Not necessarily. The Maharaja is prepared to grant limited autonomy to England.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means England will be able to rule her own affairs, but would remain a protectorate of the empire. The King of England would still owe allegiance to the Maharaja, but could rule England’s internal affairs as he saw fit.’

  ‘Don’t listen to this, Jack,’ Kanvar said. ‘If England is a protectorate, it will hardly be free. It will be like one large native state.’

  ‘That is not true.’ Rao’s voice was sharp. ‘The English will be free to run their own affairs with no interference from the Maharaja. This will be set out in a treaty.’

  Jack stared at Rao. ‘Right, but we’ll still be part of the empire. It’s not complete freedom.’

  ‘That is true,’ Rao replied. ‘But you have to be realistic. This is by far the best deal the English are likely to get. It is only because of the current circumstances in Europe that it is even being offered. If the English don’t take up this opportunity, another might not come around.’

  Jack pointed his finger at Rao. ‘You sound like all the other bloody Rajthanans. This is my country. I don’t expect you or anyone else to tell me what to do in it.’

  Rao frowned. ‘I am only trying to help. I thought you’d be pleased.’

  Sonali grasped Jack’s arm again. ‘Please at least think about it. The war could be over and Vadula could be gone. Think of all the lives that could be spared.’

  Jack sighed. Sonali had a point, and perhaps he’d spoken too harshly to Rao. He turned to the captain. ‘All right. I’ll think about it. But you’re talking to the wrong man anyway. I’m not a nobleman or a leader. I’m just a commoner.’

  ‘But you can take a message to your leaders,’ Rao said.

  Jack ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I can try. But first, I have to find my daughter.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rao said. ‘I will return to Leintwardine. I’m waiting for a message from the Raja of Granada on the link. If all has gone well, the Maharaja should have agreed to the treaty and Vadula should have been ordered to step down.’

  ‘And I will come with you, Jack-ji,’ Sonali said softly.

  Jack’s throat tightened. Sonali looked so forlorn that all he wanted to do at that moment was put his arms around her. But he held back. ‘You go with Rao. It’s not safe here.’

  ‘I can look after myself,’ Sonali said. ‘You know that.’

  ‘There’s a war on. Even with your powers you’ll be in danger.’

  Sonali frowned. ‘You don’t want me to come. Why?’

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t have time for all this. ‘You could end up fighting against your own people. You can’t do that.’

  ‘I will defend myself. And you and your family, if I need to.’

  Rao cleared his throat. ‘Jack’s right, you know, Sonali. You should ride back with me and wait for the message. Once we have it, we’ll come and find Jack and sue for peace.’

  ‘No.’ Sonali’s voice wavered. ‘Jack-ji, I made a mistake. I never should have left Shropshire. I told myself that, if I found you again, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.’

  Jack clenched his jaw. He had no time to argue about this.

  On impulse, without considering it any further, he said to Sonali, ‘All right. You can come. So long as you understand we could all be dead in days. I can’t guarantee to protect you.’

  Sonali wiped a kohl-stained tear from her cheek and nodded.

  ‘Jack, I strongly advise against this,’ Kanvar said. ‘We should not—’

  ‘No,’ Jack snapped. ‘We’re going. Now.’

  Kanvar’s eyes widened and he bowed his head slightly. ‘If that is what you wish.’

  It wasn’t particularly what Jack wished, but there was no point in debating it further. He swung himself up into his saddle, and Kanvar and Sonali did the same.

  Rao remained standing on the ground, holding his horse’s reins. He managed a smile, but his voice was cracked as he said, ‘It has been so very good to see you again, Jack, despite the circumstances. You must talk to your leaders and tell them to surrender immediately. I will come with word as soon as I can.’

  ‘Surrender?’ Jack said. ‘Doubt I could convince them – even if I wanted to.’

  ‘You must try. You will save so much bloodshed. In days, I should receive word about the treaty. Then I will come to find you.’

  ‘Not sure how easy I’ll be to find.’

  ‘I will do it.’

  Jack cast his eye across at Sonali and Kanvar. They both nodded back at him to show they were ready to ride.

  He stared at Rao again and raised his hand. ‘Farewell.’

  ‘Farewell.’ Rao turned to take in Sonali and Kanvar as well. ‘To all of you. I very much hope you will be safe. Praise be to Lord Shiva.’

  Jack gave Rao a firm nod. Then he circled his horse round and set off along the trail, with Kanvar and Sonali riding beside him.

  He glanced back once and saw Rao standing next to hi
s charger, still waving. Jack raised his hand a final time, before he turned away and spurred his horse into a gallop.

  Jack stopped his mare at the top of a rise. Kanvar and Sonali drew to a halt beside him. They’d been riding for three hours and now misty drizzle cloaked the landscape, turning the scene murky and dreamlike. Immediately ahead of them, the slope tumbled down to a heath dotted with skeletal trees and withered scrub. Beyond this, perhaps two miles away, rose a lone hill that appeared to be the tallest peak in the area. A dark fortress sprawled across the summit. The building looked ghostly in the rain, as if it were an illusion that would vanish at any moment.

  ‘What is it?’ Sonali asked.

  ‘They call it the Fortress of the Djinns,’ Jack replied.

  Kanvar raised his spyglass. ‘Another of the Mad Sultan’s constructions?’

  ‘Aye,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve never been up this way before. But I’ve heard of it.’

  Everyone in Clun knew the stories about the fortress. Supposedly it was haunted by djinns and the spirits of the dead Mohammedans who’d once lived there.

  Jack accepted the glass when Kanvar handed it across to him. He wiped the specks of rain from the lens and gazed up at the building. Through the drizzle, he glimpsed walls, bastions, minarets and Moorish arches. The stonework had crumbled and in some places the outer wall had collapsed completely. The weathered battlements were like a row of rotting teeth.

  He swept the glass across the ruin and spied the specks of figures moving along the ramparts. What looked like guns protruded from several embrasures. Through holes in the masonry, he spotted the ruby glints of fires within.

  He lowered the glass. ‘There are people up there.’

  ‘Who?’ Kanvar asked. ‘The villagers? The rebels?’

  ‘Could be.’

  Jack looked down. The ground ahead of him had been pummelled and slashed by booted feet, horses’ hooves and cartwheels. The tracks he’d been following since leaving Folly Brook had swelled in number, and now he guessed more than five hundred people could have passed this way. The trail coiled down a series of ridges and then rolled away across the heath, heading in the direction of the fortress.

  ‘Let’s get over to that hill and take a look,’ Jack said.

  They rode down the incline and set off across the flat ground.

  Jack blinked in the feathery rain. Was Elizabeth up there in the fortress? Was she safe? He’d seen no sign of the Welsh or any army forces during the journey here. If the villagers had left early enough, there was no reason why they couldn’t have made it this far.

  He shut his eyes for a second and whispered a Hail Mary.

  He called a halt when they reached a copse near the base of the hill. From this angle he could see why the Mad Sultan had built his fortress here. The hillsides were steep and, in places, rocky and virtually impassable. The villagers’ trail climbed the gentlest slope, the only route that horses or carts had any chance of travelling up.

  Jack asked Kanvar for the spyglass and again searched the fortress. He was close enough now to see the gatehouse clearly. No gates had survived, but the towers remained solid. The giant outer wall grinned with guns.

  Faces watched him from over the parapet. European faces.

  ‘Looks like they’re crusaders.’ He handed the glass back to Kanvar. ‘I’m going up. Alone.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Kanvar said quickly.

  ‘And me,’ Sonali said.

  ‘No,’ Jack replied. ‘You two are Indian. The people up there might shoot you before I have a chance to explain. Wait for me here.’

  Sonali and Kanvar both opened their mouths to protest, but Jack spurred his horse away towards the hill. He knew there was no other option. And as neither Sonali nor Kanvar followed him, it seemed they accepted his decision.

  He reached the slope and zigzagged up. Hundreds of people and animals had climbed the scarp before him, and the ground had been reduced to churned mud. The mare skidded and almost fell over several times, but the animal battled on and reached the top of the initial incline. Ahead, the ground levelled off to a plateau. This swept across to a further slope which, in turn, led up to the fortress.

  Jack rode across to the base of the second slope and squinted up through the rain. Scores of figures now watched him from the ramparts and the arched entryway. About twenty yards to the left of the gatehouse, part of the wall had crumbled. Figures also stood there, staring down from the breach. Several of them wore surcoats bearing the cross of St George.

  Jack waved his arm. ‘Greetings! I’m a crusader! I’m on your side!’

  None of the figures responded.

  The second slope was too steep to easily ride up, so he tethered the mare and plodded uphill. He slipped in the mud a few times and had to hold out his arms to steady himself.

  When he was halfway up, a voice shouted, ‘Halt!’

  He paused and raised his head. The sour face of Constable Henry Ward glared down from the gateway. Henry wore his usual black cloak and the surcoat bearing the St George cross. But his clothes were streaked with dirt and his hair was wild and awry. There was a mad glint in his eyes.

  ‘Get out of here, traitor, before I shoot you,’ Henry said.

  ‘What?’ Jack opened his arms. ‘It’s me. Jack Casey.’

  ‘I know who you are, and you’re not wanted here. You’re lucky I’m sparing you.’

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m a crusader. You know that.’

  Henry narrowed his eyes and pointed down the hill. ‘Is that why you brought those Rajthanan spies with you?’

  ‘They’re not spies. They’re friends. They’re here to help.’

  Henry snorted and looked at the figures congregating behind him. ‘He says he’s friends with the Rajthanans but he’s not a traitor. How can anyone believe the lies that spout from this man’s foul mouth?’

  Jack’s hands tensed. Henry was an idiot, and Jack would gladly have left at that moment. But he had to find Elizabeth. Henry wasn’t going to stop him doing that.

  Jack thought quickly. ‘Let me speak to Lord Fitzalan.’

  Henry’s face twisted and reddened. ‘Lord Fitzalan? He is dead. He is dead, because you would not look for the Grail – the one thing that could save us. He died of the fever. Just as our whole land is dying. And you,’ Henry drew his pistol and pointed it in the air, ‘you stood by and did nothing.’

  ‘Wait, Constable Ward,’ a voice called out from the parapet nearby.

  Jack looked along the wall and saw Mark, one of his apprentices, leaning over the battlements. Jack’s face split into a grin. If Mark was here, that surely meant Elizabeth was here as well.

  ‘We can trust him,’ Mark called down to Henry. ‘Everyone from our village will vouch for him. They’ll vouch for those Indians down there too.’

  ‘Silence!’ Henry’s beard bristled and he tightened his grip on the pistol. ‘I am in command here, and I say this man must go.’ He turned to face Jack again. ‘That’s right. I’m in charge now. Lord Fitzalan’s gone. Sir Alfred died of his wounds. The Earl of Shropshire made it here. But he has appointed me leader of this fortress.’

  ‘Wait there a moment, Master Casey,’ Mark called down to Jack.

  Mark disappeared from the ramparts and then reappeared moments later in the gateway.

  Henry glared at Mark. ‘You leaving too, are you?’

  Mark stared back for a second but said nothing. Instead, he plunged down the slope, slipping in mud. He was out of breath by the time he reached Jack. His hair was damp from the rain and his skin was speckled with dirt. But otherwise he looked well.

  Jack gave a tight smile. ‘It’s good to see you. Thank God you’re safe.’

  Mark’s face remained drawn. ‘We made it here, Master Casey. Most of us from the village. But we’re still waiting on Elizabeth.’

  ‘What?’ Jack shivered. The light seemed to darken slightly. ‘Where is she? What happened?’

  ‘She was with us up to the last fiv
e miles. But then we got word the lepers in a colony near here were stranded. Most of them were too ill to travel. She went with a cart to get them and bring them here.’

  Jack gritted his teeth. It would be typical of Elizabeth to put herself in danger to help others. But why couldn’t she have sent someone else? Why did it have to be her?

  ‘She went on her own?’

  ‘No, sir. Saleem and Godwin went too.’

  ‘And Cecily?’

  ‘She’s here. Safe and sound.’

  ‘Good.’ Jack took a deep breath and scanned the surroundings. ‘Are there any Welsh soldiers around?’

  ‘We’ve seen none so far. But we’ve had word they’re on the way. Could be here any time.’

  ‘And Alfred’s dead?’

  Mark looked down. ‘I believe so, sir.’

  Jack crossed himself. ‘But the Earl of Shropshire is here?’

  ‘Yes. Arrived from Shrewsbury just an hour ago.’

  Jack squinted up at the fortress. ‘This the best place around here to make a stand, you reckon?’

  Mark wiped his forehead with his sleeve. ‘I wouldn’t know about that, sir. Never been a soldier. Constable Ward sent word to us at Folly Brook that everyone was to retreat here. We just followed everyone else.’

  Jack stared at the outer wall of the fortress. Aside from the few places where the stonework had collapsed, it appeared sturdy enough. He gazed out at the open heath and the low hills massing a little under a mile away to the east. He could see nowhere better in the area to mount a defence.

  There was no point in running further north. The army would pursue the rebels wherever they went. The only other option would be to split up, hide and eventually dissolve into the countryside. But that was fraught with risk. The rebels could easily be hunted down and killed before they got far enough away from Shropshire.

  The crusade would have to make its stand here. For better or worse.

  ‘Where’s this leper colony?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I was told it was over to the south-east.’ Mark pointed towards a series of ridges. ‘Over that saddle.’

  Jack stared hard through the drizzle and spied the saddle nestling between two slopes. ‘Right, then. I’ll go and find Elizabeth and the others, and bring them back here.’

 

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