The War of the Grail

by Geoffrey Wilson

  Jack was taken aback by Jhala’s words for a moment. This wasn’t what he’d expected. But, at the same time, he’d heard Jhala say similar things in the past. Jhala was born in England and had studied the history and culture of the country in great detail. He spoke English as well as any Englishman. And he’d been closer to his men than any officer Jack had ever known. But all the same, none of that had counted for anything once the rebellion started. Jhala was a Rajthanan and would always be loyal to the empire.

  ‘You know,’ Jhala said, ‘when I was sent to school back in Rajthana, the country was completely foreign to me. I used to dream every night of the green hills of England. I wanted to be back here. Did I ever tell you that?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You know what they called me in school over there? Outcaste. I was from the colonies, you see, and had travelled over the wide open sea – the black water, as they call it. All that makes you impure. I wasn’t a proper Rajthanan in their eyes. Strange, isn’t it? It’s almost as though England were my true home.’

  Jack felt a flush of irritation. Why was Jhala telling him all this? What was the point? ‘As I said, I’m here to discuss terms.’ His voice came out harsher than he’d intended.

  Jhala frowned and his eyes flickered. ‘You disappoint me, Jack. I expected better from you.’

  Jack breathed in deeply and held his emotions in check. He mustn’t risk angering Jhala until he’d done his best to get a deal for his people.

  Jhala sighed and rubbed his forehead. ‘This is all such a great pity. Nevertheless, we will have to make the best of things, won’t we? You want to discuss terms? Then I will do as you wish.’

  He looked into the distance, towards the fortress. ‘Now, let’s see.’ He walked a few paces to his right, clicking his tongue as he surveyed the hill. ‘Yes, very good. A good place to take refuge. High walls. About forty feet in European reckoning, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Jack mumbled.

  ‘Yes, and the hillsides are steep. Nothing but rocks and crags on this side. Skirmishers would have trouble getting up that. Wouldn’t fancy it myself, would you?’

  Jack clenched and unclenched his hands. What was Jhala playing at?

  ‘No,’ Jhala said. ‘Wouldn’t fancy it.’ He frowned and paced back towards Jack, deep in thought. ‘On the other hand, that slope there,’ he pointed at the edge of the southern slope, just visible from this angle, ‘the gradient’s much gentler there, isn’t it? A force could get up it. But then there’s that plateau. Those guns in the fortress could pick off anyone crossing the plateau. Any attackers would have a tough fight getting up that second slope and inside the walls, wouldn’t they?’

  Jack remained silent. How long was this going to go on for?

  Jhala scanned the countryside to the south. His eyes fell upon the range of low hills just under a mile from the fortress. He gestured towards the peaks. ‘What about those? A good place to put artillery, wouldn’t you say? Put some guns there and the fortress would be within range. You could wreak havoc on anyone inside. Perhaps knock out all those guns on the wall too, or at least make life difficult for the gunners.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ Jack said. ‘I’m not an artilleryman.’

  ‘No, of course you’re not. Neither am I. But you and I, we’ve been in enough battles, haven’t we, to be able to pass judgement? You and I have seen enough, faced enough together, to know where to place artillery.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Jack said sullenly.

  ‘Yes.’ Jhala waved his finger towards the hills. ‘With the guns there, they could soften up the opposition. The people up in the fortress would be sitting ducks. Wouldn’t matter so much about the hillsides and the walls then, would it? I mean, they would still present a challenge. But a force of seven thousand could certainly storm up there and defeat a much smaller force already weakened by gunfire, couldn’t they?’

  Jack clamped his jaw tight. Rage was bubbling in his chest once more and he had to fight to suppress it. ‘I understand the situation well enough.’

  ‘Good.’ Jhala paced back to stand before Jack. ‘I’m glad you understand. So, here’s what we’ll do. You tell your people to lay down their arms and surrender. If they do that, I will be lenient. Everyone will be spared, save for the Earl of Shropshire, who must hang. The rest will be sent to East Europe to work in the farms and mines. And you, Jack,’ he pointed at Jack’s chest, ‘you I will let go. That’s right, you can go free – so long as you leave England and never come back. Return, and you’ll be executed. But stay away, and you can live your life in whatever way you see fit.’

  Jack blinked. In many ways this was an extremely good offer – especially for him personally. But nevertheless, how could he, or anyone else, accept it? It would mean the end of the crusade. Shropshire was the last stronghold of the rebellion. And the last people willing to fight were probably those up on the hill.

  But, on the other hand, what could the rebels expect? Jhala was right, they couldn’t hold out for ever. They faced too strong an opposition.

  ‘Listen.’ Jack cleared his throat. ‘I heard about a treaty that’s on the way.’

  Jhala smiled quizzically. ‘A treaty?’

  ‘Someone told me about it. Apparently the Maharaja of Europe is considering it.’

  Jhala’s smile broadened, and then it faded again and his eyes clouded slightly. ‘You are holding out for this treaty, then?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Jack muttered.

  Jhala sighed. ‘I’m sorry, but there is no treaty. I have heard nothing about it, received no orders regarding it. I think someone may be playing games with you.’

  Jack had always had doubts about Rao’s claims, but this news was still a blow. There was always a chance the treaty could still come about – perhaps Jhala simply hadn’t been told about it. But it was seeming more and more likely that the whole thing was a dream.

  ‘No,’ Jhala continued. ‘I’m afraid there is no other way out of this. You and your people must agree to my terms.’

  ‘I can’t see how my people can agree to be sent to East Europe. They’ll be slaves.’

  ‘They will be alive, at least.’

  ‘How about you just let us all go? We’ll all leave Shropshire. You won’t hear from us again.’

  Jhala snorted. ‘No.’

  ‘You can take the fortress, eventually. I agree. But it will cost you many lives and may take quite some time. The people up there will be fighting for their lives. They’ll defend themselves with everything they’ve got. Do you really want to waste all your men on that? What’s the point? The mutiny’s over. You’ve won. You might as well let us go.’

  ‘You know I can’t do that,’ Jhala said softly. ‘Even if I wanted to, Mahasiddha Vadula would never agree to it. I’d face a court martial.’ He sighed. ‘Look, you can’t win. It’s not just a matter of the men I have here. There are thousands more mopping up parts of Shropshire at the moment. Once they’re finished, they’ll make their way here. Then there’s also Vadula’s army in Staffordshire. They will be here in days. In all we could have forty thousand men here, if we choose. You cannot possibly withstand that number … I have made a fair offer, and you would do well to accept it.’

  Jack pursed his lips. ‘I’ll pass your message on to my leaders.’

  ‘You should do more than that. You should actively persuade them. You need to understand how truly powerful the army have become. We are much stronger than you could imagine. I am much stronger.’ Jhala took in a deep breath, his chest expanding. ‘I have more powers than you would believe. My abilities have increased tenfold.’

  Jack frowned. What was Jhala talking about? Jhala was a blocked siddha, one who’d used a power too early and so been unable to progress. Jhala had never learnt any war yantras.

  But now Jack felt a shiver cross his skin as he recalled what Kanvar had told him the day before. The Sikhs believed the Rajthanans already had the Great Yantra and were now deriving unimaginable po
wers from it. Was Jhala hinting at something like this? Is this what he was driving at?

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Jack said, his voice clipped.

  ‘Excellent.’ Jhala motioned towards the cavalrymen. ‘We should be getting back.’

  Jhala began striding towards the horses, hands behind his back. Jack walked alongside him.

  ‘Come down to meet me in … shall we say an hour?’ Jhala said. ‘I will await your return and your decision.’ He paused and stared hard at Jack. ‘I hope you will have the right answer for me. If your people decline my offer, I will not be able to guarantee anyone’s safety. Least of all yours. I’m counting on you. Make sure you do your very best.’

  ‘We cannot accept such terms.’ The Earl of Shropshire took a rattling breath, his eyes watering. ‘It will mean the end of the crusade. The end of the state of Shropshire. I cannot countenance that.’

  Jack placed his hands behind his back. He’d been expecting this reaction.

  He was standing in the ruined hall once more, facing the earl, who was still slumped in his chair. Levin and Henry were also present.

  ‘Is this the best offer you could get us?’ Henry snapped at Jack. ‘You told us you knew this general. You said he’d give us favourable terms.’

  ‘What were you expecting, Constable Ward?’ Levin said. ‘Jack has tried his best as far as I can see. The offer is in some ways a generous one. I expected worse.’

  Henry seethed and flexed his fingers, but he remained silent.

  ‘Whatever we think of these terms, we cannot accept them,’ the earl said in a weak voice.

  Jack cleared his throat. ‘I understand, my lord. But we also have to face the hard truth that we cannot repel the enemy for ever.’

  ‘The words of a coward and a traitor.’ Henry marched across the chamber, jabbing his finger at Jack. ‘You see how this man counsels despair. He wants us to surrender.’

  ‘He is merely stating facts,’ Levin said. ‘The enemy have a far larger force than we have. And our supplies are limited. We cannot hold out for ever.’

  ‘Then we will have to pray to God to save us.’ The earl breathed with great difficulty and slumped further down in his chair.

  ‘Aye, we should do that,’ Jack said. ‘But I’ll have one last try to talk General Jhala around. I have another idea.’

  ‘What is it?’ Levin asked.

  Jack paused for a moment, then said, ‘Jhala might agree to allow those who want to surrender to leave the fortress.’

  Henry growled. ‘Let traitors leave? Never.’

  ‘We can’t force people to fight a battle we can’t win,’ Jack said. ‘We have women and children and the elderly here with us. We can’t make them stay.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’ Levin asked. ‘That we let those who want to leave hand themselves over? The rest stay here.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Aye. If Jhala agrees to it.’

  ‘Won’t those people be sent to East Europe?’ the earl said.

  ‘I’ll try to avoid that,’ Jack said. ‘But I suspect that won’t be possible.’

  ‘I say women and children only should be permitted to go,’ Henry said. ‘We need every man for the fight.’

  ‘These people came here voluntarily in the first place,’ Jack said. ‘We should let them leave if they want to.’

  Henry squinted at Jack. ‘You want us to fail, don’t you? Those heathens have sent you here to weaken us.’

  ‘Enough, Constable Ward,’ Levin said. ‘Your bleating is not helping.’ He turned to the earl. ‘My lord, what is your decision?’

  The earl wheezed, went to speak and then appeared too weak to manage it. Drool escaped from one side of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. One of his pages rushed across to him and wiped his mouth clean, before the earl waved the lad away.

  The earl took the deepest breath he could, then said, ‘It is a difficult decision. But I believe Jack is right. Those who want to leave must be allowed to do so. And we must negotiate with the heathens to ensure their safety.’

  Jack bowed his head. ‘I will do it, my lord, as best as I’m able.’

  He stood up straight again and, as he turned to leave, caught sight of Henry. The constable’s face was almost purple and his eyes were burning.

  General Jhala paced across the grass, his brow furrowed as if he were pondering an impossible riddle.

  He stopped and looked at Jack. ‘This saddens me. It saddens me very much.’

  Jack coiled his hands into fists and fought the desire to punch Jhala in the face. He was standing out in the middle of the plains again, negotiating with his old commander.

  Jhala shook his head slowly. ‘Jack, Jack. I’m disappointed. I thought we had an understanding. I would be lenient, so long as you talked your leaders around. You didn’t keep your side of the bargain. And now you come to me with this new suggestion. My original proposal was that all of you surrender, not just some of you.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘You are making things very difficult for me.’

  ‘You can’t kill women and children,’ Jack said. ‘Where’s the dharma in that?’

  Jhala pursed his lips and gazed up at the hill. ‘Where’s the dharma in betraying your oath to the army?’

  Jack’s face felt hot. He wanted to ask where was the dharma in forcing a man to hunt down his friend? Where was the dharma in threatening to kill a man’s daughter? But, with a great effort, he held back.

  Jhala sighed. ‘Look at what has become of the two of us. This is not how it was ever supposed to be.’ He looked at the ground and went silent for a long time.

  The wind whistled across the flats and buffeted Jack, the cold seeping through his tunic and even the doublet underneath. In the distance, he could see the army making camp. The elephants had been led away and were being tethered to the ground with chains. Sappers were digging a defensive earth wall. Followers were wrestling with vast sheets of canvas and wooden scaffolding as they put up the Rajthanans’ tents.

  Eventually, after waiting for perhaps a minute, Jack said, ‘So, what about our proposal?’

  Jhala looked up at Jack again. ‘You know, I was very pleased when I heard you were here. I came immediately when I got the message. I was looking forward to seeing you again. I know this situation is hardly ideal, but I felt certain that … that we could come to an arrangement. I offered to spare you. You could walk away from this a free man, and yet you throw it all back in my face.’

  Jack went to reply, but Jhala held up his hand, saying, ‘I haven’t finished yet. You asked me what I think of your proposal. Ordinarily I would use that quaint English phrase: “Go to hell.” But I won’t do that. For you, I will show mercy. But only because you’re an old comrade.

  ‘Here’s what we’ll do. You can tell your people that whoever wants to leave may leave within the next hour. After that, my amnesty will finish. I will not make this offer again in the future.’

  ‘Where will the people be sent? They should get safe passage. They shouldn’t be sent to East Europe.’

  Jhala shook his head. ‘No. You know full well that is out of the question. I’m not playing games here. Anyone who surrenders will go to East Europe. That is already a remarkably good offer. General Vadula will probably question me as to why I’m being so generous. I will not budge on this. Your people have one hour to come down here and give themselves up. They will go to Europe, but they will live. I give you my word. That is my final offer. You understand?’

  ‘I understand,’ Jack said, his jaw tight.

  ‘But Jack,’ Jhala’s face turned cold, ‘this amnesty is open for one hour only. After that, I’m afraid it’s war.’

  22

  ‘No, Father.’ Elizabeth’s eyes glimmered in the grey light. She shook her head. ‘I’m staying here.’

  ‘As will I.’ Godwin placed his arm about his wife’s shoulders. He glanced down at Cecily, who lay swaddled in Elizabeth’s arms, then looked up at Jack, raised his chin and placed his hand on the hilt of his longsword. ‘We
talked about this and decided. We cannot run away.’

  Jack ran his fingers through his hair. He could have done without this problem now. All across the fortress those people who’d decided to leave were packing their things and streaming out of the gate. Elizabeth and Cecily had to go with them. Had to.

  ‘Look,’ Jack said. ‘There’s no real hope. We’ll have a hard job holding back that army down there, and more and more of them are going to be arriving over the next few days. We’ll be overrun.’

  ‘Then why are you staying?’ Elizabeth’s bottom lip quivered slightly.

  Jack stalled. Why was he staying? It was a good question. It was strange to think that four years ago he’d started off opposing the First Crusade. Back then, he’d believed it was pointless to resist, that there was no hope of success. And now, here he was – making a last stand, with the remaining rebels, in a fortress on top of a hill.

  ‘I have to stay.’ His voice came out hoarse. ‘I can’t give up on our dream of freedom.’

  A tear welled in one of Elizabeth’s eyes. ‘Exactly. And neither can we.’

  Jack’s throat tightened and he had to blink back the tears. He couldn’t argue with his family any more. They’d made their decision, and he would respect it.

  In all, around three hundred decided to leave the fortress and take their chances with the Rajthanans. Jack didn’t blame any of them for going. As he stood on the east wall, watching the line of people wend their way down the hill and across the plains, he prayed for them all, prayed they could somehow make a new life for themselves.

  The shadows were lengthening and the sun was lowering towards the Welsh mountains to the west.

  ‘What time is it?’ he asked Kanvar, who was standing beside him.

  Kanvar drew out his watch. ‘Five o’clock by European reckoning.’

  ‘I make that an hour since I spoke to Jhala.’ Jack stared out at the dark mass of the army encircling them. ‘The amnesty’s over.’

  ‘It appears so,’ Kanvar said softly.