Mark drew himself up taller. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No. You stay here.’
Mark opened his mouth to object, but Jack raised his hand to silence him. ‘I need you to look after the rest of the village. In case something happens to me.’
Mark took a deep breath. ‘Very well, Master.’
Jack put his hand on Mark’s shoulder for a moment. ‘Keep an eye on Cecily.’
‘I will, sir.’
Jack glanced back at the fortress. Henry, who still stood scowling in the gateway, grimaced and spat at the ground when he noticed Jack looking at him.
Jack gave Mark a final nod, then skidded back down the slope, a blizzard of thoughts whirling in his head. Was Elizabeth safe? Would he find her before the Welsh arrived?
His heart was beating wildly by the time he reached the bottom of the scarp. He unhitched his horse, rode across the plateau and picked his way down the slope beyond. At the bottom of the incline, he spurred the mare into a gallop and charged over to where Kanvar and Sonali still waited beneath the trees.
He quickly explained the situation to the two Indians, and both of them insisted they would accompany him to find Elizabeth.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You need to leave. Now. The rebels up there aren’t going to let you into the fortress. If the Welsh come here, you could find yourselves in trouble.’
‘You’ll have to explain to the rebels who we are,’ Sonali said.
‘I doubt that’ll make much difference. The commander up there is an enemy of mine. He doesn’t even want to let me in. If you leave now, you’ll be long gone before there’s any fighting.’
‘We can talk about this later,’ Sonali said. ‘We have to find Elizabeth, then worry about what to do next.’
‘I said I would help you,’ Kanvar said. ‘I will not run away now.’
Jack stalled for a second, his horse stepping sideways and tossing her head. He couldn’t waste any more time arguing with Sonali and Kanvar. They both seemed determined to come with him – and, in truth, he was pleased for their help.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’
They drove their horses hard across the plains, heading towards the saddle between the hills. The drizzle continued to drape the countryside. Jack repeatedly cast his eye over the surroundings, searching the groves and hillocks for attackers.
At one point, he noticed Sonali looking at him.
‘Elizabeth will be safe,’ Sonali said. ‘I’m sure of it.’
Jack managed a half-smile in response. It was good of Sonali to ride with him now. Very good, given the way Elizabeth had treated her.
They neared the edge of the heath. When Jack looked up, he saw figures appearing over the top of the saddle. He stared hard at the blurred shapes and made out twenty or so people gathered about a mule cart. They were moving quickly and were already slipping and sliding down the slope towards the plains.
Jack reined in his horse.
‘Spyglass,’ he shouted to Kanvar.
Kanvar handed over the glass and Jack swept it across the hillside until he found the figures. They were Europeans – peasants, judging by their clothes. Several were running alongside the cart, while the rest sat huddled and slumped in the back of the vehicle. The group included men and women of various ages – he spotted a tall man in a woollen hat, and a woman in dark robes who limped as she ran. And then he spied a figure in a white tunic, with pale hose and a skullcap. The man had a thin ginger beard that was unmistakeable.
Saleem.
Jack’s face split into a grin. He searched further and saw that Godwin was driving the mule cart. And then he made out Elizabeth sprinting down the incline, with the musket he’d given her still slung across her back.
There was a stone in his throat. Thank Christ Elizabeth was safe.
‘Jack,’ Kanvar said in a thick voice.
‘What?’ Jack asked, without lowering the glass. He couldn’t take his eyes off Elizabeth.
‘Jack, you should look at this.’ Kanvar’s voice was more insistent now.
Jack lowered the glass. Kanvar was pointing to the top of the incline, his face drawn.
Jack peered up the scarp again, and a chill crossed his skin.
He saw a swarm of men running over the saddle. There were hundreds of them, and more were appearing all the time. They poured down the slope, heading towards Elizabeth and the others.
Jack shoved the glass to his eye.
The men were a motley collection of soldiers bearing a mixture of swords, muskets and bows. They wore ragged peasant clothing, but most had three boars’ heads emblazoned across their chests.
They were the army of the Lord of the Marches.
Jack’s heart shot into his throat.
Elizabeth and the others were about halfway down the hill. But the Welsh were moving far more quickly.
In a few minutes, they would reach Elizabeth’s group.
Jack’s daughter was about to be captured or killed.
18
‘Elizabeth’s up there.’ Jack tried to still the shake in his voice. ‘We have to do something.’
Kanvar stared uphill. ‘They are out of range of my powers. We must get closer.’
‘We only have a few minutes,’ Jack said.
But Kanvar didn’t wait to reply and instead spurred his horse into a gallop. Jack and Sonali set off after him. The three of them charged across the open ground and over to the base of the hill. Elizabeth’s party was still scrambling down the scarp. Behind them, the Welsh forces were a dark tide spilling down from the saddle. Jack could make out the guttural cries of the men and the wailing of several horns.
Kanvar zigzagged up on his charger, with Jack and Sonali following closely behind. The horses squealed and whinnied, their hooves sliding in the mud.
Jack peered up through the drizzle. He shivered. The first of the Welshmen were only around a hundred yards from Elizabeth’s group now.
Kanvar suddenly drew his horse to a halt. He closed his eyes, a look of intense concentration on his face. He seemed to grow brighter and sharper, as if he were coming into focus through a spyglass.
Good. Kanvar must be close enough now to use his powers. But Jack wasn’t going to wait around to watch. He was continuing up the slope until the Welsh were within range of his lightning.
‘You wait here,’ he shouted to Sonali.
Sonali tightened her jaw and shook her head.
Jack was about to argue with her, but then realised that was pointless.
The two of them urged their horses up the incline. Jack’s mare skidded several times and almost slipped over at one point.
He could make out Elizabeth and Saleem ahead of him now. They were sprinting as fast as they could, but the Welsh were less than a minute behind them. The mule was stumbling and the cart was bouncing and swaying, tossing the people crowded on the back up and down.
Jack wasn’t close enough to use Lightning yet. He wasn’t going to reach Elizabeth in time.
Sweat streamed down his face. He screamed at the mare to move faster.
The Welsh were only fifty yards away from Elizabeth now. There was nothing he could do to save his daughter.
Then a gust of sattva-tinted wind brushed the back of his head. He heard a pop, then a shrill whistle. Looking up, he saw a speck of golden fire arc overhead, sizzling through the rain. It flew past Elizabeth’s party and slapped into the ground amidst the first rows of Welshmen. There was a sound like a thunderclap and then a deafening rumble shivered through the ground. A bright explosion punched the hillside, kicking up a cloud of soot and earth. Welshmen screamed as they were flung in all directions.
Jack’s horse reared up and kicked the air. He thought he was going to slip off for a moment, but then managed to steady the animal. At the same time, a second speck of fire curved past above him and thumped into the earth in the middle of the Welsh. A second blast of red and yellow flame jetted into the sky.
Elizabeth and the ot
hers slowed their pace for a moment as they looked back, but they soon pressed on. The Welsh held back in obvious confusion. Many lay motionless on the ground, or writhed in agony. Their cries and screams floated down on the wind.
Jack wiped the sweat from his eyes. Thank Christ Kanvar had managed to use his powers. That had granted them a moment’s reprieve, but it wouldn’t last long.
He glanced across at Sonali. Her eyes flashed and she looked just as determined to save Elizabeth as before.
The two of them rode on up the scarp. Now Jack could see Elizabeth clearly, and she must have recognised him as well. She waved her arm and ran even faster, stumbling over the uneven terrain.
He leapt to the ground and she hurtled into his arms.
‘Father,’ she gasped. ‘I thought we’d lost you.’
He squeezed her tight. ‘Don’t you worry. I wouldn’t leave you.’
She stepped back and glanced up at Sonali, who still sat in her saddle. Elizabeth’s features went stony and she narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t say anything.
And now the rest of the party was arriving. Saleem grinned and hugged Jack. Godwin, who sat driving the cart, half smiled and bowed his head in Jack’s direction. Behind Godwin slumped ten figures in torn tunics and robes. A further ten people limped along beside the cart. Jack couldn’t help wincing at the sight of them. Most of their faces were disfigured by blisters and boils, and one woman’s features were so swollen Jack could barely make out her lips and nose. Many of the lepers had filthy rags wrapped about their hands and several had fingers missing. They still wore castanets on their wrists, although they hardly needed to warn anyone of their approach at the moment.
Jack had no chance to say anything further, because he now heard a familiar hissing sound. He looked up just in time to see a dark swarm of arrows plummeting from the sky.
‘Move!’ He slapped the mule’s rump. ‘Now!’
The group lurched forward as the missiles whistled about them, thick as rain. Arrows skewered the ground, skipped off rocks and slithered through the grass. One of the lepers gasped and fell off the back of the cart, an arrow in his face.
‘Keep moving!’ Jack bellowed.
He grasped Elizabeth and ordered her up on to his horse. She sat behind him, clinging to his waist, as he circled the mare about and charged downhill.
Saleem climbed up behind Sonali, who then urged her own horse down the scarp.
Another wave of arrows fell about them. Missiles whispered in Jack’s ears and hammered the ground ahead of him. The shafts impaled the earth or danced about like hail.
He saw Kanvar further down the slope. The Sikh was still sitting astride his horse, his eyes closed. He held up one hand, bunched it into a fist, then opened it again. A dot of flame burst from his hand, zipped like a fly into the air, and arced away towards the Welsh. A boom shuddered through the earth shortly afterwards.
The arrows stopped falling, but then Jack heard a dense crackling behind him. He knew instantly what it was.
Muskets.
In a split second, the bullets were whining all about him. He felt one pluck his sleeve. Others slashed the cart’s sideboard. One of the running lepers cried out and collapsed. The mule screamed. For a second, Jack thought it had been hit, although it appeared unharmed.
Christ. The Welsh weren’t giving up.
Kanvar raised his palm and muttered the mantra again. Another spot of fire shot from his hand and shrieked overhead. There was a further deep rumble.
And then the muskets stopped.
Jack looked over his shoulder and saw, through the curtains of rain, that the Welsh had lowered their weapons and fallen back. Many of them lay squirming on the ground. Several large craters had been gouged into the hillside by the explosions.
Jack drew up beside Kanvar. The Sikh’s forehead was bursting with perspiration and his face was hollow.
‘You all right?’ Jack asked.
Kanvar swallowed and nodded. ‘I am just drained.’
Jack cast his eye over the ragged group of lepers, and said to them, ‘Right. We have to get to that fortress on the hill over there. Run as fast as you can. The Welsh could be back at any time.’
Godwin cracked a switch across the mule’s back and the cart rattled forward. The group managed to weave its way down the remainder of the slope and struck off across the heath. Progress was slow. The lepers were weak and exhausted, and many were limping. Jack would have ordered them all up on to the cart, but the vehicle was already overloaded and the mule was struggling.
Jack kept glancing back, thinking he would see the Welsh pursuing them. But he saw no one.
The ancient fortress loomed ahead. The party was now just a hundred yards from the base of the hill.
They were going to make it.
Then a single war horn wailed across the open ground. This was followed by a second, then a third. Jack spotted figures swarming over the saddle again and pouring down the slope. From amongst them rose a standard that snapped in the wind. He couldn’t make it out clearly from this distance, but the black on white of the device was unmistakeable – it belonged to the Lord of the Marches.
There were hundreds of men. Perhaps thousands. The previous force must have been a mere advance party.
He shouted to urge the lepers on.
Finally, the party reached the hill. He led the way up the slope, Elizabeth still clinging on behind him. Kanvar and Sonali’s horses bounded up, but the mule plodded slowly, skidding in the mud and straining to haul the heavy load.
The roars of the Welsh sailed across the plains. Jack saw that the mass of men had already reached the heath and were sprinting across the open ground, like a wave rushing in across the shore.
The mule was moving too slowly. The cart was only halfway to the top of the first slope and there was still the second, steeper incline to go.
The Welsh were going to catch them.
‘All of you who can walk, get out!’ Jack bellowed at the lepers in the cart.
A couple of the lepers jumped to the ground but the rest stared at Jack in confusion.
‘Get down and run!’ Jack waved his arm at them.
Finally, they seemed to understand. All of them, except one old man who appeared too weak to even stand, leapt off the cart and clambered uphill. Several of them were blind and had to be guided by the others. Some were so ill they could only hobble, but they were still moving faster than the mule.
Jack reached the top of the scarp, where Kanvar, Sonali and Saleem were already waiting for him. He looked back down and saw the cart and most of the lepers were nearing the summit.
But now the first of the Welsh had reached the edge of the plain and were swilling about the bottom of the hill. They began swarming up the slope.
The mule cart rattled over the top of the incline and the party pressed on across the plateau. The fortress rose ahead. They only had to make it up the second slope, and then they would be safely within the walls.
Jack spotted hundreds of figures along the battlements. They appeared to be waving and cheering him and his small band on.
But he could also hear the horns and the shouts of the Welsh horde. He glanced over his shoulder and his skin crawled when he saw figures surging over the top of the first incline. He could make out their grim faces, wild hair and surcoats emblazoned with the boars’ heads. Some brandished swords, others held muskets, although none as yet were preparing to fire.
Jack’s party was less than halfway to the fortress. The Welsh would reach them in minutes. There was no hope …
Then Jack heard a loud clap. There was an orange flash at the top of the fortress, and smoke jetted out of an embrasure in the outer wall. A round shot screamed past overhead. Further bursts flickered along the ramparts and more balls shrieked through the air.
Jack turned his horse sideways and saw the shots streak through the drizzle, smack into the earth and bounce into the Welshmen, spraying steam and water from the wet ground. Balls knocked off hea
ds, cut bodies in half, bowled over whole columns of men. Clouds of blood spurted into the air. Stray shots bounded over the edge of the plateau and plunged down towards the plains.
Jack whispered a Hail Mary. The crusaders had decided to help him after all.
Several of the lepers slowed their pace and stood gaping at the carnage.
Jack waved his arm at them. ‘Keep moving!’
The gunfire might be slowing the Welsh but it hadn’t stopped them completely.
The lepers reached the final slope and began scrambling up to the gate. Jack and Elizabeth both leapt from the mare and guided her up by the reins. Godwin abandoned the cart and helped a group of lepers haul the sick man up the incline, simply dragging him through the mud as if he were already dead.
The guns roared, kicked and belched smoke. Balls howled away from the wall. The rebels began firing shells topped with sparking fuses. When Jack snatched a look behind him, he saw the bombs slapping the ground and blasting up plumes of fire. Bodies were smacked apart and limbs sent cartwheeling through the air.
The first lepers reached the gatehouse. Henry was no longer standing in the entrance, but scores of crusaders were waiting to greet the new arrivals. Several of the men recoiled when they saw the lepers’ disfigured faces, but Godwin yelled at them to help.
Jack heard shouts behind him. His heart jolted when he saw that bands of Welshmen had already reached the bottom of the second slope and were beginning to scrabble up.
There seemed to be no stopping the Welsh.
Still dragging the horse, Jack raced up with Elizabeth and ran into the fortress. Just as he made it into the gatehouse, he heard whistles slice the air about him. One of the crusaders nearby collapsed to the ground with an arrow in his neck.
Jack grasped Elizabeth and dragged her to the left, away from the gateway and behind the wall. Arrows whined through the entrance, skipping across the flagstones and splintering on masonry.
Jack crossed himself. That had been close. At least two crusaders had been hit and lay writhing on the ground.
The War of the Grail Page 18