Rao stared into the distance and went silent for a long time.
Finally, Jack sighed. ‘Look, we have to plan our next move. We have to work together.’
‘And what makes you think I’m going to take part in this plan of yours?’
‘We have to put aside our differences. For our friends.’
‘And after we free them? What about the Brahmastra?’
Jack scratched the back of his neck. ‘We’ll have to agree what to do with that.’
‘I will not let it fall into the hands of the rebels. I would die to prevent that.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to agree to that. The thing is, I’m not sure I want the rebels to have it anyway.’
‘What are you talking about now?’
‘I’ve been thinking about the Brahmastra. Thinking about it a lot. If it’s real, I don’t think anyone should have it. Not the crusade. Not the empire. It’s too dangerous.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I reckon we should destroy it. Destroy all Mahajan’s work so no one can get their hands on it.’
‘You are asking me to betray the empire.’
‘And I’ll be betraying the crusade. But I don’t see it like that. The Brahmastra is evil. In the wrong hands it could be devastating. We can’t leave something like that in this world.’
‘You make a good case for destroying it. I’ll give you that.’
‘So, we’ll put this disagreement aside? Work together?’
Rao straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. The late afternoon light turned his eyes crystal. ‘I’ll consider it.’
A bonfire blazed in the heart of the village. Chief Domnall sat outside his hut, the red light playing over his face. Eva and her four sisters sat next to him, while warriors from the village were spread out to either side. The local chiefs had returned with their retinues and they all squatted about the fire in a wide circle. Jack and Rao crouched with Cormac in an empty space on one side of the crowd. The numerous village dogs skulked in the dark and watched the proceedings.
Domnall stood and limped forward a few paces. A longsword in a leather scabbard hung at his side. Cormac had explained this was the only sword in the village and had been passed down through the generations since the time of the dead kings.
The Chief gave a long speech in Gaalic, which Cormac translated for Jack and Rao’s benefit. Domnall thanked the chiefs for assembling once again, praised the Great Shee and exhorted the gathered leaders to join forces against the Demon. Finally, he turned to Rao and asked him what he’d learnt at the Place of Dead Kings and how they were to fight the Demon.
Jack took a deep breath. He and Rao had barely spoken for the past hour and he had no idea how the Captain was going to respond. Rao hadn’t left the village, so presumably that meant he hadn’t completely rejected the idea of attacking the castle.
Jack wished he’d had the chance to tell Rao what to say. But he was going to have to leave it up to the Captain to speak in his own words.
Rao cleared his throat, stood up and straightened his tunic. He pressed his hands together and bowed slightly. ‘Namaste. You have come to hear the words of the Great Shee. So, I will do my best to explain myself. I have returned from the Place of Dead Kings. I and my assistant have seen the defences. I believe we can defeat the Demon, but only if we all march on his castle and attack him together. If we don’t join forces,’ he looked down at Jack, ‘we will never succeed.’
Once Cormac had translated the words, the crowd leapt to their feet, cheered loudly and broke into chants and war cries. They waved their spears, the firelight casting them red as devils.
Domnall raised his hand and called for quiet. The assembly calmed and the Chief then asked Rao whether he had powers that could defeat the Demon. He solemnly recounted that many said the Demon had great magic. Some even said he could never be killed.
Jack tensed his hands. Rao had to say the right thing now.
Rao coughed, looked at his boots, then gazed at the gathering. ‘Yes, with your help, I can beat the Demon.’
The crowd roared with delight at this. Domnall drew his sword and held it up with two hands, the ancient blade rippling in the firelight. He called for the fiery crosses to be lit and carried throughout the Land of Mar.
‘This way we call all to fight,’ Cormac explained to Jack and Rao.
Ten men approached with wooden crosses on tall poles, which they held in the bonfire until the wood caught alight. They then raised the poles high above their heads, the crosses blazing and sparking against the black night.
Domnall said some final words, and the men ran off in different directions, holding the flaming wood above them. Jack watched as the burning crosses climbed the surrounding hillsides, shining brightly in the vast darkness of the wilderness.
It was strange to think that when he’d first seen a fiery cross a week and a half earlier it had been a sign of savagery and terror, and yet now there was something stirring about watching the men journeying up, up into the mountains to summon the warriors of Mar.
Pipers began blowing their instruments furiously, sending sinewy cries into the night. Other men bashed hand-held drums with sticks. Mar men and women chanted and clapped in time, while the rest danced wildly about the flames. The dogs barked and howled.
Jack patted Rao on the back. The Captain stiffened, but gave Jack a curt nod.
‘Thank you,’ Jack said.
Cormac helped Rao fasten his cloak about his neck with a brooch. Jack shook his head and grinned. The Captain was a strange sight with his brown skin, red turban and officer’s boots, all wrapped up in a native cloak that looked as though it had never been washed.
Cormac straightened the cloak and dusted some bracken from Rao’s shoulder. He stepped back and smiled. ‘Great Shee look good.’
Rao squared his shoulders and raised his chin. For a moment, just a moment, Jack could imagine him as a Scottish chieftain.
Jack pulled his own native cloak tighter about him. Both he and Rao had decided to dress this way in order to disguise themselves. But Jack had to admit, he was finding the native attire more comfortable and much warmer than his English clothes.
Three days had passed since the meeting of the chiefs and during that time Rao had been withdrawn and frosty when he spoke to Jack. But today, for the first time, Jack sensed the Captain was thawing a little.
Cormac led them to the centre of the village, where most of the Mar had gathered to see the war party leave. The Mar and neighbouring tribes were due to muster at a place called the Lake of Shining Water. Almost every man from the village under the age of forty stood ready to march, spears and bows at their sides and knives in their belts.
Chief Domnall was outside his hut. He wore a padded tunic, smeared with grease, as a sort of basic armour. Over this was his blue and purple striped cloak, while his longsword hung at his side.
‘The Chief’s coming?’ Jack asked Cormac.
Cormac nodded. ‘Chief will fight.’
Jack raised his eyebrows. The Chief was hardly young, and he walked with a limp.
‘Chief say he was in shadow for long time after wife die,’ Cormac said. ‘He sad he have no son to lead village when he gone. But since Great Shee come, the sun shine on him again. He feel strong now. He will fight for Land of Mar.’
Eva rushed over to Rao and gripped his arm, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘Great Shee. Careful. Come back.’
Rao coughed. ‘I will, Eva. Don’t you worry.’
‘Then marry.’
Rao gave a little laugh and prised off her hand. ‘I’m not sure about that.’
‘I wait. I wait Great Shee come back.’
A piper blasted a series of whining notes and a cheer went up from the crowd.
‘Now,’ Cormac said. ‘We go Lake of Shining Water.’
Jack heard the chanting long before he saw anything. Night had fallen, the sliver of moon was hidden behind the cloud and the darkness was as thick as soup. The mountains towered all
around him, their peaks glowing with snow.
‘Can you hear it?’ Rao asked as he walked alongside Jack. ‘It sounds like there’re thousands of them.’
‘Hope so,’ Jack said.
Beside them strode the Mar warriors from the village, their cloaks swishing and amulets clinking. The party had run for much of the day, but had finally slowed – to Jack’s relief – when it grew dark. Chief Domnall had, incredibly, kept up with his men, flying along despite his injured leg.
They rounded the side of a rocky outcrop and a valley opened up below.
‘Shiva,’ Rao hissed.
Thousands of fires peppered the valley floor. The chanting was even louder now, rolling about the hills and rising up into the brooding clouds. On the left side of the valley lay a long, thin lake, the firelight shimmering on its dark water.
Cormac puffed out his chest. ‘Mar come. Many Mar. Other tribe too.’
‘Thank God,’ Jack muttered under his breath. He hadn’t known for certain what kind of army he would find here, but this looked to be more than he could have hoped for.
They marched downhill and after ten minutes Jack could make out the warriors standing beside the campfires. Many waved their spears above their heads, while others bore burning crosses which slashed the dark with bright orange flame. Drums pounded and pipes droned.
A high-pitched ululation spread across the vast gathering and the chant changed. Jack could hear it clearly: ‘Cap-tain Rao. Cap-tain Rao.’
Rao’s jaw dropped. ‘Shiva.’
Warriors rushed up the hill and flocked around them. They grasped Rao and raised him up on their shoulders, the Captain calling out for them to be careful. Then Jack was wrenched up and carried forward too, while Cormac, Domnall and the others from the village ran along behind.
The singing whirled in the air. Warriors swarmed about Jack, their eyes wild and their teeth shining in the dark. A forest of spears and flaming crosses swayed in every direction.
Jack was borne, as if by an uneasy sea, across to a mound in the centre of the camp. Rao was lifted on to a flat stone slab at the top of the knoll, while Jack was placed slightly lower on the side of the slope.
Jack looked around. A horde of chanting, cheering, waving Mar surrounded him on all sides. The sound of them punched the air and rocked the mountains.
‘Cap-tain Rao. Cap-tain Rao.’
Rao frowned and looked down at Jack.
‘I think they want you to say something,’ Jack said.
Rao bent down lower. ‘But what?’
‘Think of something. You’re the Great Shee.’
‘Shiva.’
Rao straightened again, rubbed his moustache, pursed his lips and gazed out across the seething throng. He cleared his throat a couple of times, then lifted his chin and said in a wavering voice, ‘I am the Great Shee. I have come to you now.’
The crowd quietened slightly and became less exuberant. Jack noticed a few puzzled frowns on people’s faces. Was that because they couldn’t understand Rao’s words, or because he didn’t seem like a shee?
Rao looked down at Jack again and made a questioning face.
‘Just get on with it,’ Jack said.
Rao raised his hand and said in a clear voice, ‘We will defeat the Demon. We will cast him down.’
The Mar cheered and waved their spears, swords and burning crosses. They couldn’t understand what Rao was saying, but they clearly liked the way he was saying it.
The response must have buoyed Rao because he now shouted, ‘I will lead you! I will lead you to victory. The Demon will be slain by the magic of the Great Shee!’
He drew his pistol and pointed it into the air – Jack had loaded the weapon himself earlier in the day using bullets from Mahajan’s castle. Rao fired. The weapon flashed, kicked and spat out a jet of smoke. The loud crack fell across the crowd, who gave a collective gasp, paused for a second and then began hooting and whooping with joy. Pipes wailed and the chants of ‘Cap-tain Rao’ thundered across the hills.
Rao looked down. His eyes blazed and his chest heaved, as if he’d been possessed.
Jack grinned. ‘Well done. You finally sounded like a Great Shee.’
Twenty Mar warriors stood in a circle, carrying torches that sent flickering light across the bare ground. Jack and Rao stood in the centre of the group with the chiefs of the ten largest sub-tribes around them. Despite leading a minor branch of the Mar clan, Domnall was part of the group due to the huge honour of having the Great Shee stay in his village. The Chief beamed constantly, apparently basking in Rao’s glow.
Jack had scratched a rough outline of Mahajan’s castle in the earth and now he pointed at it with a stick. He’d seen Jhala do this many times to explain battle plans to the company. Strangely, he was now commanding an army about the size of the regiment Jhala had been leading when he died.
‘The Demon has his guards placed on the outer walls, all along here,’ Jack said.
Cormac, who stood at Jack’s side, translated and the chiefs nodded to show they understood.
‘There are fire weapons on these walls too,’ Jack continued. ‘I saw them along here and here, but they can easily be moved to other positions. The main gate is here. The Demon’s defences are concentrated near there at the moment, and I expect it to stay that way. The slope to the rear of the castle is steep and the wall is high. The Demon won’t think to place too many defences there.
‘Now, I say we do what the Demon most expects – attack the castle from the front, at the main gate. That will ensure he keeps most of his forces around there. In the meantime, we’ll send a smaller force, which we’ll keep secret for as long as possible, to the rear of the castle. We’ll attack there where he’ll least expect it.’
‘You said the slope was too steep and the castle walls were too high to attack there,’ Rao said.
‘They’re not too steep for an attack, they just make an attack much more difficult. But without many Cattans there to fight us, we can do it. We’ll build ladders, run across the valley and be up on the walls before they know what’s hit them.’
The chiefs nodded once Cormac had translated. They seemed satisfied so far with Jack’s plan.
‘Now,’ Jack said. ‘We need to split the force in two. I will lead the much smaller party that will attack the back of the castle. I’ll take three hundred men. No more than that, otherwise we’re sure to be spotted.’
‘I will lead the main force,’ Rao said.
Jack looked up. The Captain straightened his back and raised his chin. His eyes glittered in the firelight. He looked like a man who could lead the Mar to victory. And the Mar were much less likely to falter if they had the Great Shee marching along with them.
Jack nodded. ‘Good. You will lead the larger force, with Domnall’s help. You’ll attack the front of the castle and try to get through the gate. You can cut down trees to use as battering rams. I’ll get up on the wall with the others and hit Mahajan from behind before he has a chance to change tactics.’
‘Agreed,’ Rao said.
Cormac explained the plan to the chiefs and they nodded in agreement and spoke amongst themselves.
Domnall stood slightly to the side and gripped the pommel of his sword. His smile was broad and his eyes glassy as he gazed into the darkness.
He looked as though he’d finally come home after wandering for years in the wilderness.
A shaft of pain struck Jack in the chest. He winced and struggled not to double over. Within seconds the sensation passed, but it reminded him of the desperate situation he was in.
Today was the day Kanvar’s cure was supposed to wear off. Today was the end of the two-month reprieve.
And yet he was still alive, still walking and talking and able to prepare for the battle ahead. He was sitting on a rock polishing the scimitar and watching the warriors pack away their things in the fuzzy morning light.
Soon, the war party would separate. Rao, Domnall and the other chiefs would lead the bulk of the
men towards the castle. Jack would march his force of three hundred warriors across the hills. They would travel through the night and hide near the castle. Tomorrow, at noon, they would attack.
But would he survive until then? Or would the sattva-fire finally finish him off?
Whatever happened, he knew he would never see Elizabeth again. Even in the unlikely event they were able to defeat Mahajan, he would die soon from his injury anyway. The journey back to Shropshire would take weeks. He would never make it.
For a moment he remembered when Elizabeth was born. It had been in the middle of the night and Katelin had lain on the bed, broken with exhaustion. But he’d lifted the tiny form of his daughter up to the candlelight so that he could stare for the first time at her perfect face.
He wished he could speak to her one last time.
But there was no point feeling sorry for himself now. He had to still the rippling pool of his mind and focus on the task ahead of him.
‘Here, take these.’ Rao walked across to Jack, holding out the last of the pistol bullets.
‘You have enough?’ Jack asked.
‘Plenty.’ Rao patted his pocket.
They’d already shared out the powder, even emptying the musket cartridges Jack had taken from the castle to make sure they both had enough for the assault.
Jack accepted the bullets and put them in his satchel.
‘So.’ Rao studied his hands. ‘This is it.’
‘Seems so.’
‘I’ve been speaking to Domnall. We’ll be off in a few minutes.’
‘Good.’
Rao shivered slightly and hugged his cloak closer.
‘First big battle?’ Jack asked.
‘Yes. If you don’t count us being attacked on the way up here.’
‘You’ll be all right. We’ll win this. I’m certain.’ Jack was very far from certain, but there was no point letting anyone know that. The Mar had an absolute belief in the Great Shee. So long as Rao believed too, there was a chance they’d take the castle.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ Rao stared into the distance. His breath clouded around his mouth. ‘About what you said a few days ago.’
The Place of Dead Kings Page 33
