‘I wish to speak with the earl,’ Jack said.
One of the guards – a bearded, stocky man – shook his head. ‘The earl is resting.’
‘It’s urgent. It’s about the army.’
The guard frowned. ‘I said no. Now leave.’
Jack was considering searching for another way in, when a thin man with long dark hair appeared from inside the palace. He walked with a limp, dragging one leg behind him.
Jack recognised the man – he was a member of the Crusader Council. Jack had met him once at Lord Fitzalan’s castle.
What was his name? Jack thought quickly, and then he remembered it – Sir Levin.
‘What’s going on?’ Levin asked the guards.
‘Just telling this man to leave, sir,’ the bearded guard replied.
Levin raised his head and his eyes flickered when they noticed Jack. He wagged his finger. ‘I know you, don’t I?’
Jack bowed his head slightly. ‘Jack Casey, sir. We met at Newcastle. I led the expedition to Scotland.’
Levin nodded slowly. ‘That’s it. I remember now. I’m glad to see you made it here. Not many did.’
‘You too, sir.’ Jack looked down for a moment. ‘I heard about Sir Alfred.’
‘Ah yes.’ Levin stared into space. ‘It is a great tragedy. But then there are so many tragedies these days.’
‘Sir, if I may, I need to speak to the earl.’
Levin studied Jack closely. ‘Why is that?’
‘I know the general leading the enemy troops out there. Jhala. I might be able to strike a deal.’
Levin raised an eyebrow. ‘A strange idea.’ He rolled his tongue around in his mouth. ‘But I remember our discussion now. You told me then you knew General Jhala.’
‘That’s right, sir.’
‘Very well. You’d better come in.’
Levin stepped aside to admit Jack, then held his hand out to stop Sonali. ‘Not you.’
Jack looked back. ‘She’s a friend.’
Levin raised his chin and eyed Sonali haughtily. ‘We will not have a heathen in this hall. Not at a time like this.’
‘It’s all right,’ Sonali said to Jack. ‘You go. I’ll wait here.’
Jack nodded. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Sir Levin led the way down a wide passageway, hobbling as quickly as he could with his bad leg. Jack couldn’t recall Levin having a limp previously. Perhaps he’d been injured in the recent fighting.
They came out in what must once have been a grand hall, but which was now a roofless courtyard. The paving stones were cracked and largely overgrown with grass. Vines hung like streamers over the walls. Arches, niches and windows encircled the chamber, but they were now so worn they appeared to be melting.
On the far side of the room, an elderly man was slumped on a large, carved chair. He wore a red robe, trimmed with ermine, and a grey cloak was draped over his shoulders. His silver hair was lank and his face was pale and drawn. Several page boys were bustling about him, but he waved them away as Jack approached.
Jack went down on one knee. ‘My lord.’
The earl flicked his finger in Jack’s general direction and said in a cracked voice, ‘Stand up. There is no need for ceremony now.’ He took a rasping breath. He appeared to be having trouble breathing. ‘Who are you?’
Jack stood up and put his hands behind his back. ‘Jack Casey, sir.’
‘I can vouch for this man.’ Levin stood near to Jack. ‘He was well thought of by Sir Alfred.’
‘Oh.’ The earl’s eyes glazed over. ‘If only Alfred were with us now.’ He went silent for a moment, then drew himself up straighter in his chair. ‘Very well. What is it you want?’
‘It’s about General Jhala,’ Jack said. ‘I used to serve under him. Before the First Crusade. I’d like to meet with him to discuss terms.’
‘Terms?’ The earl licked his lips and took another rattling breath. ‘What terms can we possibly expect? We are viewed as traitors by the heathens. I have broken all the treaties my ancestors signed with them. We cannot expect fair treatment.’
‘I understand, sir. But I believe—’
‘Stop!’ someone shouted from the entrance to the palace.
Jack turned and saw Henry striding into the room with an entourage of two soldiers. His jaw was clenched and his eyes glittered.
Henry bowed to the earl. ‘Forgive me for bursting in here, my lord.’ He pointed at Jack. ‘But when I heard this man was here, I had to come quickly.’
‘What is the meaning of this?’ Levin said sharply.
Henry glanced at Levin and then back at the earl. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, seemingly uncertain what to say. Although he’d been put in charge of the fortress, Levin and the Earl of Shropshire were still his superiors.
Finally, he said, ‘This man, Casey, is a liar and a traitor. He is a secret servant of the heathens – and has been for a long time.’
Levin narrowed his eyes. ‘That is a strange allegation. Jack was always praised by Sir Alfred. And we all know it was Jack who was chosen to lead the expedition to Scotland.’
‘And we all know he failed in that expedition,’ Henry snapped, then quickly seemed to realise he’d spoken too abruptly. He said in a softer tone, ‘Sorry, sir. I just meant that I have reason to believe Casey cannot be trusted.’
‘What is your evidence for making these claims, Constable Ward?’ the earl said.
Henry ground his teeth, shot a look at Jack and then faced the earl again. ‘He consorts with the enemy. There is one right outside here at the moment. A witch.’
‘She’s been helping me train apprentices,’ Jack said. ‘She is Rajthanan, but she’s proven herself to be loyal. We can trust her, and we need all the help we can get at the moment.’
The earl’s eyes flicked across to Levin, as if he were expecting some answer.
Levin cleared his throat. ‘It’s true, my lord, that Casey has been training apprentices in the heathens’ arts. Sir Alfred explained it to me. There is no reason to doubt what he says.’
Henry’s face was now so red it was almost glowing, and his eyes shone a brilliant white. He looked as though he were about to explode, but he managed to keep himself in check.
The earl took a long, uneven breath and nodded at Jack. ‘Very well. You were about to tell us something. Continue.’
Jack paused for a moment. Should he mention Rao’s treaty? It would take quite some explaining, and he was hardly convinced about it himself. He decided not to mention it – unless he had to. Not yet, at any rate.
‘My lord,’ he said. ‘I think there is a chance, a small chance, I might be able to reach some sort of agreement with General Jhala. I was his sergeant at one time.’
‘You being his sergeant once can’t count for all that much,’ the earl said.
Jack paused. ‘We were close, you could say. He was my teacher, my guru. Let me at least talk to him and find out his terms. He might be more willing to listen to me.’
The earl paused for a moment, pondering this. His shoulders eased back and he suddenly looked very tired. This was an elderly man, torn from his comfortable home, who’d lost everything and now faced probable death.
‘Very well.’ The earl sighed. ‘Why should you not try, Jack Casey? I hold out little hope. But nevertheless you will be our negotiator with these Rajthanans. Go, see what terms they have and then report back to us here.’
Jack sat on his horse just inside the gateway to the fortress. The mare stomped and tossed her mane. She’d recovered from her previous exertions and now looked strong enough to gallop for miles.
Jack glanced to his side and saw Henry standing in the shadow of the gatehouse. The constable glowered back for a moment, then hawked and spat at the ground.
When Jack looked over his shoulder, he saw Sonali, Kanvar, Elizabeth and many others from Folly Brook watching him anxiously. And behind them stood a crowd of weary, dishevelled crusaders who all gazed at him like lost souls seeking
salvation.
So much was resting on Jack. And there was so little he could do. He wasn’t the pure knight who would find the Grail. He was nothing special. As he’d always said, he was just an old soldier. But now he had to somehow find a way to convince the Rajthanans not to slaughter his people.
Hooves clopped behind him, the gathering parted and Sir Levin rode out on a chestnut horse. He’d slung a cloak over his shoulders and his long black hair whipped about his face in the wind. The earl had commanded him to accompany Jack to ensure the negotiations ran smoothly.
Levin nodded at Jack. ‘Let’s go.’
Jack took a deep breath and nudged the mare forward with his legs. He and Levin rode out through the gatehouse, zigzagged down the scarp and then set off across the plateau. The corpses from yesterday’s battle had been cleared away, but several shell craters still gouged the earth. Scraps of twisted metal from the shell casings lay scattered about in the grass.
They angled their horses down the second incline and then spurred them into a gallop. In the distance, about a mile away, the three heralds sent by Henry and the five cavalrymen sent by Jhala had already met and were discussing terms. Two of the men, one from each opposing side, still held their white flags aloft.
Jack and Levin raced across the heath. The Welsh army seemed alarmingly close to Jack now. He could make out the mottled line of figures, bivouacs, campfires, sheep, cattle and a handful of pavilions. Guards stood at regular intervals, holding spears or muskets at their sides.
Directly ahead, to the north-east, loomed the elephants of the European Army and the forest of lances belonging to the cavalry, who still sat in formation on their chargers. Jhala’s forces looked even more imposing from down here on the plains.
After around five minutes, Jack and Levin slowed their horses to a trot and drew up to the negotiators. Jhala’s cavalrymen frowned in puzzlement. Four of them were Europeans, but one, who appeared to be the leader, was a young Rajthanan with a thick moustache that gleamed with wax.
Levin addressed the Rajthanan. ‘We have a request.’ He gestured to Jack. ‘Our man here is a comrade of General Jhala’s. He wishes to speak to Jhala directly to discuss terms.’
The Rajthanan’s features soured. ‘The general has assigned me to this task. You will speak to me, or you will speak to no one.’
‘Please, sir,’ Jack said in Rajthani. ‘I served with General Jhala for many years. He was my captain. He’ll want to speak to me. I’m certain.’
Jack was far from certain, but he had to say something.
The Rajthanan narrowed his eyes. ‘If what you say is true, then you have betrayed your oath. Why would General Jhala lower himself to speak to you now?’
‘He will.’ Jack still spoke in Rajthani. ‘Please tell him I’m here. My name’s Jack Casey. He can decide whether he wants to meet with me or not.’
The Rajthanan rolled his tongue in his mouth, his moustache bobbing on his top lip.
‘Jhala won’t be happy if he finds out I’m here and you didn’t give him my message.’ Jack knew this was an audacious thing to say and it could backfire. But he had to try.
The Rajthanan sniffed. Jack’s words must have convinced him, because he nodded to one of the European cavalrymen and ordered him in Arabic to pass the message on to the general. The cavalryman instantly wheeled his horse about and charged back across the plains towards the line of elephants.
Jack shot a look at Levin, who was fidgeting with his reins. The stakes were high. Unbelievably high. Jack thought of all the people huddled up in the fortress. He couldn’t let them down.
He stared back towards the elephants. The cavalryman had already disappeared into the mass of soldiers near to the beasts.
But what now? Would Jhala really come out to meet him? Jhala was a general and Jack was a traitor. Now that Jack thought about it, the whole plan seemed crazy. Of course Jhala wouldn’t come. Jack must have been mad to let Sonali talk him into this.
But then the cavalryman came charging back across the heath. He raced up to the group of riders, drew his horse to a sudden halt and spoke quickly to the Rajthanan officer.
The officer turned to Jack, his moustache stretched rigidly across his top lip. ‘It seems the general will speak to you.’
Jack felt a wave of both relief and nerves. He thanked God that Jhala would meet with him. But now what? What could he say to his old commander to convince him to spare the rebels?
The officer faced Levin and the other three crusaders. ‘You will leave now. The general will meet this man alone.’
‘Wait,’ Levin said. ‘It will be best if we discuss this together.’
The officer shook his head. ‘It’s this man or no one. Leave now.’
Levin opened his mouth to protest then shut it again. His horse danced skittishly beneath him as his eyes flicked across to meet Jack’s.
‘It’s all right,’ Jack said. ‘You go.’
Levin was clearly reluctant to leave. No doubt the earl had instructed him to keep an eye on Jack, and now that wasn’t going to be possible. But Levin had little choice.
Levin pursed his lips and nodded to the three heralds. All four of them turned their horses and rode away across the plains, heading back towards the fortress.
The officer watched the four figures dwindle into the distance, then turned to Jack. ‘Get off your horse.’
Jack did as he was told and dismounted.
The officer swung himself down from his own saddle and frisked Jack for weapons, checking carefully even around Jack’s ankles for concealed blades. When he was satisfied that Jack had followed protocol and come unarmed, he climbed back on to his horse and looked towards the army.
Two riders were now approaching, trotting their horses side by side. One of them, a batman, was holding a parasol above the head of the second man, a Rajthanan wearing a glittering turban. Jack couldn’t see the second man’s face yet. But it could only be Jhala.
Jack felt another ripple of nerves.
It seemed unbelievable that he was going to see Jhala again.
But then a cold, steel fist seemed to clench itself tightly inside him. He’d trusted Jhala, but his commander had betrayed him and threatened to hang Elizabeth.
He shut his eyes for a second, gritted his teeth.
Your mind is a rippling pool. Still it.
The two riders drew closer. And then Jack could make out Jhala’s features. His guru looked much the same as four years ago. The lines on his face were deep and there were purple bags beneath his eyes. His eyebrows and what was visible of his hair poking out from under his turban were silver. He was in his late fifties now, and it was hardly surprising he looked old. But despite this, he appeared fit and well. The old injury in his chest seemed not to be troubling him at all at the moment.
Jhala halted his horse beside the small group and gave Jack a smile, his eyes twinkling. He folded his hands in front of his chest and bowed his head slightly. ‘Namaste, Jack. It is such a pleasure to see you again.’
21
For a moment, Jack felt as though he were choking. He couldn’t speak. His mouth was as dry as if he’d stuffed it with salt.
It was strange. Simply seeing Jhala before him now seemed to have paralysed him.
Finally, he managed to reply, ‘Namaste.’ But his voice came out strained and slightly cracked.
Jhala raised an eyebrow for a moment, but then smiled again. ‘I had no idea you were here, Jack. It’s been such a long time. Three years? Or is it four?’
The strange paralysis was slowly falling away from Jack, but now a new sensation began to throb like a wound inside him. His fingers curled into fists, his neck muscles went taut and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. A single thought pounded in his head like a hammer on an anvil – he wanted to kill Jhala. He wanted to rush at the man, drag him from his horse and murder him with his bare hands.
Jhala deserved to die for what he’d done.
But now was not the time. Jack h
ad come here to plead for mercy, and he couldn’t let his people down. The fate of everyone in the fortress was resting with him.
With a supreme effort he swallowed down his rage and said curtly, ‘It’s four years.’
Jhala studied Jack carefully. ‘You are not pleased to see your old comrade?’
‘I’m here to discuss terms.’
‘But we can at least be civil, can’t we?’
Jack felt his face reddening but managed to calm himself. ‘Of course.’
Jhala nodded slowly. Finally, he swung himself down to the ground and gestured to his right. ‘We shall talk in private. Come.’
Jack walked with Jhala across the grass, leaving the group of cavalrymen behind. Jhala held his hands behind his back and strode quickly. He seemed surprisingly spry – strong, even. It was easy to see why he’d been a champion Malla wrestler when he was younger.
‘I understand, you know,’ Jhala said.
‘Understand what?’ Jack said stiffly.
‘The difficulty of this situation. Here we are, old friends but on opposing sides. It makes me very sad.’
Old friends? Jack couldn’t believe he’d heard the man who’d threatened to kill Elizabeth call himself a friend. Was Jhala serious, or was this some game? ‘I thought you were dead.’
Jhala’s expression turned grim. ‘I was betrayed by my own men. They mutinied. Can you believe it? I was reported dead, but in fact my loyal servants smuggled me to safety. They hid me in the forest, and I eventually made my way back to Poole.’
Jhala stopped suddenly and turned to face Jack. ‘But enough of that. It’s not important now.’ He inhaled deeply. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘What do you mean?’
Jhala waved his hand vaguely. ‘About this situation we find ourselves in. You with your people up on that hill. Me and my men down here.’
‘Perhaps you and your men could turn round and go back home.’
Jhala half smiled. ‘You don’t know how glad that would make me. If I could leave right now, I would. I never wanted any of this, Jack. You know that.’ His eyes misted. ‘I love this country. It breaks my heart to see what’s happened to it.’
The War of the Grail Page 21