The Place of Dead Kings

by Geoffrey Wilson

  He shoved his hand under Rao’s coat and hunted around for the holster. His fingers were so numb he could barely feel anything.

  Christ. It was taking too long. He wasn’t going to find the damn thing.

  Then his fingers touched metal. He ripped out the pistol, swung round and pulled the trigger, praying the weapon would fire. The hammer smacked down and the pistol spat smoke and flame. He missed both wolves, but they both shot off into the trees immediately.

  But for how long? He had to get a fire started quickly. That was the only way to keep the animals at bay.

  And keep Rao alive.

  He shook the Captain, but got no reaction. He slapped Rao in the face until finally he opened one eye slightly. Rao’s eyeball shifted around, as if he were drunk.

  ‘Hold on,’ Jack said. ‘Don’t fall asleep. You understand? Don’t fall asleep!’

  Jack’s eyes burnt with tiredness. He hadn’t slept for hours and had no idea how late it was. Perhaps it was after midnight, perhaps later. But he wouldn’t let himself rest. He had to keep an eye on the wolves still creeping out in the shadows, and he had to keep tending the fire. If it went out, the beasts were sure to advance again.

  A trickle of dirt fell on his head. He glanced up, but saw that the bivouac he’d cobbled together from branches, twigs, damp leaves and earth was still holding and retaining most of the heat from the fire at the entrance.

  Rao lay against the tree, right beside the flames. Jack had wrapped him in both of the blankets. The colour had come back to his face and his lips were no longer blue. But he’d been sleeping for a long time.

  Jack reached across and touched Rao’s cheek. It was no longer icy cold – a good sign.

  The Captain groaned and his eyes crept open. Another good sign. Maybe he would survive after all.

  Rao looked around blearily and finally focused on Jack. ‘Ah. You’re still here.’

  ‘You think I’d leave you?’

  Rao swallowed. ‘I don’t remember . . . Where are we?’

  ‘You fell. I made camp for the night. You were too weak to go on.’

  ‘Ah.’ Rao edged his head around and stared at the fire. ‘I had a strange dream.’

  Jack grinned. ‘You were lost in Scotland?’

  Rao managed a weak smile. He shut his eyes and struggled to summon the strength to continue.

  ‘You should rest,’ Jack said.

  Rao opened his eyes again. ‘No . . . In my dream I was back in Rajthana. I’d never left. Never come to Europe.’ He turned to look at Jack again. ‘But you were there.’

  ‘Me?’ Jack snorted. ‘In Rajthana?’

  ‘Yes, you were there. And you’d come to tell me something. That my father had forgiven me . . . Isn’t that strange?’

  ‘You were delirious. The cold gets to you like that.’

  ‘Jack, can you do something for me?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If I don’t make it, can you get a message to the barracks at Dun Fries.’

  ‘You are going to make it.’

  ‘But if I don’t. Will you promise?’

  ‘There’s no need—’

  ‘I beg you.’

  Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead. Rao seemed confused. Maybe he hadn’t recovered much after all. ‘Very well. I promise.’

  Rao shut his eyes. ‘Good. Tell them at Dun Fries to write to my father to tell him that I died trying my best to make him proud. To atone for what I did.’

  Atone? What for? Jack was curious, but knew this was hardly the time to ask further. He put his hand on Rao’s shoulder. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘And . . . write to Kumari Reena Chamar. Tell her that I . . . always loved her.’ Rao grimaced as if in pain and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

  ‘You need to rest now.’

  Rao sighed and went limp.

  Christ. Was he dead?

  But then Jack saw the Captain’s chest was rising and falling. He was only sleeping.

  With any luck, he was dreaming pleasantly of Kumari Chamar.

  Birds chirped high in the trees and sunlight washed through the branches. The snow shone as if it were polished.

  Jack trudged, slipped and skidded through the swollen drifts. The sky was sharp blue, with only a few puffs of cloud, the storm having spent itself during the night.

  He stopped for a second in a shaft of light, revelling in the warmth on his skin. He hadn’t slept at all – he’d had to stay awake to guard Rao. It had been a bad night, but it looked as though the Captain would pull through.

  He pressed on, his arms about a clump of wood. He hadn’t dared go far from the fire during the night, but now that it was morning he felt confident enough to venture a little further.

  The old oak and the bivouac appeared ahead. He halted in surprise.

  Rao was standing with his hands on his hips, stretching his back. He grinned. ‘There you are.’

  ‘You’re looking better.’ Jack plodded over to the shelter and dumped the firewood.

  Rao breathed in deeply. ‘I feel fantastic, to be honest.’

  Jack poked at the fire with a stick and threw on a few branches. ‘Didn’t look so good last night.’

  ‘No.’ Rao squatted down beside the flames. ‘Look, I can remember bits of it. It seems I owe you my life.’

  ‘You weren’t that bad.’ Jack busied himself by throwing more sticks into the fire. Rao didn’t need to thank him. They were enemies who’d been thrown together. That was all.

  And yet, Jack had to admit he was glad Rao had lived. It would have been hard to watch a man freeze to death.

  ‘I saw those wolves,’ Rao said. ‘I remember that.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘I would have been done for.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘And I want to say sorry.’

  Jack looked up. ‘What for?’

  Rao cleared his throat. ‘Your friend. Who died. Because of the murti.’

  Jack paused. He appreciated these words from Rao. It seemed the Captain had been thinking about their argument yesterday. ‘Look, I might have . . . gone a bit far. It was an accident.’

  ‘An avoidable accident. I thought we needed the god’s blessing, you see. That’s how we do it in Rajthana.’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, this isn’t Rajthana.’

  ‘Indeed. I have a lot to learn. And I will learn.’

  ‘You just get your strength back up. You’ll need it.’

  Rao paused for a moment as they trudged up a scarp. ‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’

  ‘Aye.’ Jack stopped and looked around.

  The land appeared bewitched. The fresh snow blanketing the slopes glittered in the sunlight. Icicles hung from trees and rocks, while the distant mountaintops gleamed like enamel.

  Rao took a deep breath. ‘Yes. Quite something.’

  Jack started walking again. ‘Come on.’

  Rao had been like a man transformed during the morning. He strode forward with boundless energy, often marching ahead of Jack. It was astonishing to think he’d almost died during the night.

  A trace of pain crackled in Jack’s chest. It had started earlier when he’d meditated to pick up the trail again and continued even now that he’d left the trance. But it was more than just his chest. His breathing was shallower than usual and his legs felt leaden. Marching uphill through the snow sent perspiration beading on his forehead and trickling beneath his clothing.

  There were only twelve days left before Kanvar’s cure wore off.

  Just twelve days.

  How far ahead of them were the savages now? Hours? Half a day? More?

  And what would he and Rao do when they caught up anyway? There were still only two of them. And now they only had seven bullets between them. He’d had to fire several more rounds during the night to scare off the wolves, and now neither of them had a fully loaded pistol.

  In part to stop himself brooding, Jack asked, ‘What do you know about Mahajan?’


  ‘Mahajan? Not a lot.’

  ‘But your commanders must have had some information.’

  ‘They didn’t know a lot either. No one does. Mahajan’s said to be a powerful siddha, but he’s worked on his own for years in different parts of the world. Some say he was expelled from the siddha order in Rajthana, but they’ve denied that. Others say he was asked to leave because of his dangerous experiments. Still others think it was internal politics.’ Rao gave a half-smile. ‘Who knows? The siddhas are secretive and follow their own rules.’

  ‘What kind of experiments was he doing?’

  Rao shrugged. ‘No one told me. Atri was supposed to be the expert.’ Rao paused after mentioning the dead man. ‘That didn’t work out, obviously. Atri was going to deal with Mahajan. My assignment was just to get him there.’ Rao slid his coat open and tapped the moon-clan insignia on his tunic. ‘You see, I’m a military man. I don’t know about technical matters. That’s for the priest jatis.’

  Jack eyed Atri’s satchel. Rao might not be technically minded, but he’d still kept the siddha’s notes. And he hadn’t mentioned the Brahmastra. He knew at least a little more than he was letting on.

  ‘So,’ Jack said, ‘what are we going to do if we come across Mahajan now?’

  Rao rubbed his moustache. ‘I’ve been wondering that myself. Nothing, I suppose. We’ve no need to fear Mahajan, I don’t think. He’s a Rajthanan not a savage. He’ll treat us decently, I’m sure. We’ll have to find out what we can about him and then report back to Dun Fries. There’s nothing else we can do.’

  ‘You sure he’ll welcome us? He sent those savages to attack us.’

  Rao chewed his lip. ‘We don’t know he sent them. Maybe these savages don’t follow his orders after all. Perhaps they acted on their own initiative.’

  Jack went to speak, but stopped himself when something caught his eye. He frowned. Was that what he thought it was?

  He pushed his way through the knee-deep snow to his right, holding out his arms to steady himself. Ahead of him, the slope folded down into a grove. As he drew closer, he became certain about what he’d seen.

  ‘What is it?’ Rao called.

  ‘Tracks,’ Jack said.

  In front of him, hundreds of punctures in the snow showed where the savages had been.

  Rao clambered across the slope. ‘How far ahead are they?’

  ‘Hard to say. You can’t easily tell how old tracks are in the snow.’ Jack squinted up at the sun. ‘What time do you make it?’

  Rao clicked open his watch. ‘One o’clock.’

  ‘It stopped snowing just before dawn. I reckon they’ll have sheltered for the night in those trees over there. That means they left after sunrise. Around eight o’clock.’

  ‘So, they’re five hours ahead of us.’

  ‘At the most. As best I can tell.’

  ‘We can still catch up to them.’

  ‘Aye. That we can.’ Jack went to follow the trail, then halted and stared at the ground about ten feet away.

  ‘There.’ Jack’s voice was hoarse. He scrambled across the slope, kicking up white clouds behind him. He sank to his knees and studied the snow more closely.

  It was just as he’d thought. Four sets of boot prints. One left by a short man, the others by taller men with longer strides.

  No savages wore boots.

  Rao struggled over to Jack. ‘What now?’

  Jack pointed out the prints. ‘Our friends.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Sure as I can be.’

  ‘So, they’re alive.’ Rao slapped his fist into his left hand and gazed up the slope, as if he would see the captives there.

  ‘They were alive this morning.’ Jack stood again and dusted the snow from his hands. ‘Maybe we’ll free them yet.’

  17

  Wind blew down from the mountains, whipped up the snow and spun it into eddies. Flakes splattered Jack in the face and the cold seeped through his clothes and into his skin.

  ‘It’s coming down hard again.’ Rao shivered and hugged himself.

  Jack looked up. Rao was right – swarms of snowflakes were tumbling once more from the clouds. He could still see the savages’ tracks ahead of him, but within a quarter of an hour they would be smothered.

  Damn. When would the weather clear? He and Rao had had a good morning and made excellent progress, but now, with the snow setting in, they would have to find shelter again.

  He glanced at Rao. He couldn’t risk a repeat of last night.

  Rao must have understood his thoughts because he managed a tight smile and said, ‘I’m fine. Much better than yesterday.’

  Rao looked well enough so far, but Jack wondered about himself. His leg muscles ached and his chest was tight. Shooting pains jabbed his torso, bad enough for him to have to shut his eyes and concentrate for a moment to blot them out.

  They plodded on for half an hour, the wind building, the flying snow thickening and the late afternoon light starting to fade. Finally, Jack had to admit that the tracks had completely vanished. He would have to go into the trance again, but he knew that would weaken him further.

  He was about to stop, when Rao pointed at a stand of trees to the left and said, ‘Wolf.’

  Jack squinted, blinking flakes from his eyes. A grey-white shape flitted within the woods, followed by several others.

  ‘Those damn things just keep following us,’ Rao said.

  ‘They’re hungry.’ Jack drew his pistol. He was going to have to use a precious bullet. ‘I have to meditate again. I’ll scare them off first.’

  He blasted once into the air and most of the wolves vanished instantly. A few remained, however, prowling up and down and watching with their yellow eyes.

  Jack fired twice more, the wind kicking the acrid smoke straight back into his face. Finally, all the wolves slipped away. But now he had no bullets left.

  All they had was Rao’s weapon.

  He scanned the area for somewhere sheltered enough for him to meditate. A fir a few yards away looked suitable, but then he noticed black marks in the snow near to it.

  Tracks?

  He started off towards the tree, Rao following close behind. As he drew closer, he could see the indentations were human footprints, slowly being buried by snow, but still clear.

  A shiver ran up his spine. He didn’t like the look of this.

  Rao peered at the ground. ‘Savages?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, then we’re still on their trail.’

  ‘No. Look, there’re only a few footprints. Must have been only two men.’

  ‘So, they separated from the main group?’

  ‘Looks that way. But there’s something else.’ Jack crouched and studied one of the marks more closely. ‘These tracks are fresh. Can’t be more than fifteen minutes old. Otherwise they’d be covered by now.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes?’ Rao’s moustache stiffened and he cast a wary look around him. ‘That means they could still be nearby.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Jack stood and gazed into the blizzard. He couldn’t see much beyond two hundred yards. Were there savages watching from the dark knots of trees? From the dim scarps? From the tops of bluffs?

  ‘We should keep going,’ Jack said.

  ‘What about the trail?’

  ‘They were heading up this valley.’ Jack pointed ahead. ‘The hills are steep, so I reckon they’d keep going straight. I say we press on. I’ll check the trail later.’

  Rao nodded and they forced their way ahead through the rising snow. A wolf bayed in the distance and the temperature dropped. Jack shuddered and his legs almost gave way a couple of times. Rao was stumbling and skidding too.

  Neither of them could keep going for long. But they had to get out of the valley and find somewhere to hide.

  They entered a particularly powerful stream of sattva, so strong the scent scratched Jack’s nose and the back of his throat. They’d been passing through strong sattva for days, but the streams
were becoming even more intense the further they travelled into the mountains.

  Mahajan had chosen a good place for yoga, or whatever it was he was up to.

  Within twenty minutes, they reached the head of the valley. The scarps to either side were sheer, rocky and virtually impassable. The only clear way ahead was up through a pass between two mountains.

  ‘Should you check the trail now?’ Rao shouted over the wind, his overcoat flapping about him.

  ‘Not yet. I want to get out of here.’ He pointed at the pass. ‘We’ll go up there first.’

  They started up the slope, ploughing through the snow. The wind shrieked down and blasted them with gritty flakes that stung their faces.

  Twice Rao fell, but both times he swung himself up again straight away.

  ‘You all right?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I can keep going.’

  Halfway up, Jack began to think he’d made a mistake. Both he and Rao were tiring fast, and the sattva-fire clenched his chest. If there were savages around, they were hardly likely to attack in this weather – even they would have to find shelter.

  All the same, now that he and Rao had come this far, it would be better to continue to the summit. At least from there they would be able to see more of their surroundings and with any luck spot somewhere to make camp.

  They passed into another powerful stream. The whirling sattva made Jack dizzy. His foot slid out from under him and he toppled over, getting snow in his face. He twisted himself round and tried to get up, but his arms were too weak to support his weight. He slid down again and lay on his back in the knee-high snow.

  Rao’s face appeared above him. The Captain held out his hand and Jack grasped it and let Rao heave him back on to his feet.

  ‘Can you keep going?’ Rao shouted.

  Jack thought about it. His legs seemed able to support him. Pain forked across his chest, but it wasn’t bad enough to stop him walking. Too tired to speak, he nodded and pressed on up the scarp.

  They passed out of the sattva stream, but the pain still throbbed between Jack’s ribs. At least now they were almost near the summit. The icy gale seared Jack’s face and nose, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He just had to reach the crest of the hill and then he would see shelter somewhere nearby. He was sure of it.