He slowly calmed himself as the rider drew nearer. The figure was a man who wore Rajthanan cavalry uniform, although he hardly looked like a Rajthanan. He was Indian, but he had a huge, bushy beard that reached down to his chest. Jack had never seen a Rajthanan officer with a beard like that.
‘It is Takhat.’ Kanvar smiled slightly. But, at the same time, moisture was building in his eyes.
Jack frowned. Why was Kanvar reacting like that? ‘You sure it’s him?’
Kanvar nodded, then rode out to meet his commander. Jack nudged his horse into a trot and followed.
Takhat spotted Kanvar immediately and wheeled his horse round to meet him. He was a short, stocky man with thick eyebrows that flicked up at the ends. Judging by the flecks of silver in his beard, he was at least Jack’s age, or older.
When Takhat noticed Jack, his eyes narrowed and his expression soured. He looked Jack up and down slowly, before returning his gaze to Kanvar.
Both Sikhs dismounted and Kanvar showed his respect by bending down and touching Takhat’s feet. The Sikhs spoke to each other in their own language, which Kanvar had told Jack was called Punjabi. Although Jack could make out a few of the words, which were similar to Rajthani, he found it impossible to follow the conversation.
Takhat’s tone seemed sharp, and he glared at Kanvar with apparent displeasure. But then, after Kanvar had spoken at length, Takhat’s face suddenly lit up, his eyes widened and a grin spread across his lips.
He shot a look at Jack and said in broken English, ‘You have found the centre of the Great Yantra?’
Jack glanced at Kanvar, who responded with a nod, confirming it was all right to talk.
‘Yes,’ Jack said. ‘I found it.’
‘We thank you for your information, Englishman,’ Takhat replied. ‘You have done well. Now, you will leave us. I must discuss this with my apprentice in private.’
Apprentice? Takhat was Kanvar’s guru? Jack looked at Kanvar and was surprised to see the Sikh’s eyes welling up with tears again.
Kanvar sniffed and quickly got himself under control. ‘Yes, please could you leave us for a moment, Jack? There is much we need to discuss, and we must transfer information between our maps.’
Jack stalled. His horse danced sideways for a few steps before he calmed her. He didn’t understand maps or Punjabi. But all the same, why was he being ordered away? ‘Why in private?’
‘That is what Takhat wishes,’ Kanvar said. ‘Please, Jack.’
‘You must leave us now, Englishman.’ Takhat’s voice was harsh and his expression had turned serious again.
Jack sucked on his teeth. He didn’t like being ordered about, not least by someone he’d never met before. Takhat might be Kanvar’s guru, but Jack owed him nothing.
At the same time, Jack very much wanted to get back to the meeting point. He couldn’t give up on the Grail yet. He had to keep trying. For the present, he would have to trust Takhat and Kanvar. They were the only ones who could find the design of the Great Yantra, and there was no point in arguing with them at this stage.
He looked at Takhat and then at Kanvar. ‘Very well. I’m going back into the stone circle. Keep a lookout.’
Jack swung himself down from his saddle and handed his reins to Kanvar. He looked Kanvar in the eye for a second. ‘You tell me if anything important comes up during your talk.’
Kanvar took the reins. ‘Of course.’
Jack strode across the grass towards the circle. The light had brightened further and the sun had almost completely risen.
He didn’t understand what was wrong with Kanvar. The Sikh seemed worried about something – upset, even. And also, what were Kanvar and Takhat discussing? And why did it have to be in secret?
But none of that mattered. As soon as he could, he would question Kanvar further. But right now he had to get back into the Great Yantra and try as hard as he could to use the power.
He slipped into the stream again and the whirling sattva buffeted him. He stopped for a second outside the stone circle, then strode in, the powerful sattva blasting him once more.
He shut his eyes for a moment. The sattva made the insides of his ears itch.
What now? Here he was again, touching the Great Yantra – or the Grail, or whatever it was. But nothing was happening.
He sat on the ground in the middle of the circle and crossed his legs. Did he have to accept that he wasn’t the new Galahad? That he wouldn’t be the one to find the Grail? Or even accept what he’d long suspected, and what Jhala had told him, which was that there was no Grail? The old stories were myths. Fantasies.
The Great Yantra might be real, but it would only be used through recalling the design and smelting sattva, in the same way as all the yantras. Anything else was nonsense.
And yet he couldn’t give up. Not yet. Because that would mean returning to Folly Brook with nothing. Kanvar had said it would still take weeks – months, even – for the Sikhs to discover the Great Yantra’s full design. Shropshire would be crushed long before then.
He looked across at Kanvar and Takhat, who were now sitting on the ground, hunched over their maps. Takhat was brandishing a pen and making marks on his chart.
Jack shut his eyes. There was still time for him to try one more time. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the cool air flowing down the back of his throat and into his lungs. He quickly managed to calm his mind and slip into the trance. Slowly, he inched his way closer to the spirit realm. The material world fell away, as if he were soaring above it like a bird.
But still nothing happened. He kept trying for around fifteen minutes. Still nothing.
The problem was, he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing – or even what would happen, if he were successful.
Then he heard shouts.
His heart jolted and he flung his eyes open, instantly sliding out of the trance. Was someone coming? Was Kanvar trying to warn him?
But what he saw was puzzling. Takhat and Kanvar were standing facing each other. Takhat was pointing his finger at Kanvar and barking loudly. Kanvar stood with his head bowed and his hands behind his back. He replied only softly, his voice too quiet for Jack to hear from where he was sitting.
Takhat’s bellowing became even more heated.
Was he going to attack Kanvar?
Jack stood and jogged across to the Sikhs. ‘What’s going on?’
When Kanvar turned to face him, Jack saw the Sikh’s eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Takhat scowled at Jack, shouted a few further words at Kanvar, then marched over to his horse and rode away, without looking back even once.
‘What the hell was that about?’ Jack asked.
Kanvar’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘It is not really important.’
‘Not important? You don’t look happy about it.’
Kanvar stared at his boots. ‘I have been discharged from the army, cast out of my order and disowned by Takhat, my guru. If I return to my homeland, I will immediately face a court martial.’
Jack blinked. ‘Why?’
Kanvar looked up. His face was long and serious. ‘I disobeyed Takhat’s orders. I should not have gone to your village and I should not have told you about the Great Yantra. Takhat specifically instructed me not to do these things.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘The Great Yantra is a secret. We siddhas are bound to keep the secrets of our orders. Also, Takhat believed I was becoming … too close to you rebels. He said to me months ago that my judgement was clouded. I was not to see you again, Jack, and I was not supposed to even go into Shropshire.’
Jack’s eyes bored into Takhat’s receding figure. He hadn’t liked Takhat much when he’d first met him, and he liked him even less now.
He returned his gaze to Kanvar. ‘You went against your commander’s orders to help me and the rebels?’
Kanvar nodded solemnly.
‘You’ve risked everything?’
‘Indeed, that is so.’
‘I don’t kno
w what to say. I didn’t realise.’
‘No, it is all right. There is no need for you to say anything. It was my choice and my choice alone. I was quite clear about what I was doing.’
For the first time, Jack believed he had some insight into Kanvar’s thoughts. The Sikh had seemed caught up in some internal battle over the past few days. It must have been a painful decision to come to Folly Brook, to tell Jack about the Great Yantra and to bring Jack along to this spot.
Jack scratched the back of his neck. ‘Why did you tell the truth to Takhat? Why didn’t you make up some story?’
‘That would be wrong. I could not lie to my guru. And in any case, he suspected something when he saw you here with me.’
‘I see. I still don’t understand, though. Why have you done all this? Why help me when you didn’t have to?’
‘I try to always follow Waheguru’s will. Your struggle against the Rajthanans is a just one. Your lands have been taken by a powerful foe and you wish to get them back. The right thing for me to do is to help in whatever way I can. It was a difficult decision, because one should also follow one’s commander’s orders.’
‘You couldn’t win either way.’
‘Exactly. Whatever I did would be both wrong and right. It was a dilemma.’
‘Well, I’m glad you made the right decision in the end.’
‘There was only one decision I could make. I hesitated many times. That is why it took me so long to return to your village. But, in the end, after considering it carefully, I realised it was Waheguru’s will that I help the English.’
Jack nodded slowly. He knew well enough what it was like to make a difficult decision. When Jhala had ordered him to capture William, four years ago, he’d had to decide whether to do as he was told, or risk Elizabeth being hanged. He’d been faced with an impossible choice.
‘What will you do now?’ Jack asked. ‘Where will you go?’
Kanvar frowned. ‘I will come with you, of course. Back to Folly Brook – I assume that’s where you’re going. I said I would help in the fight against the Rajthanans. I will not abandon you now.’
Jack felt a surge of warmth in his chest. Kanvar might be odd, but he was undoubtedly an ally – and the English needed as many of them as they could get now.
Jack was humbled for a moment. Kanvar had given up everything to help the crusade.
Jack put his hand on Kanvar’s shoulder. The Sikh jumped slightly, looked at the hand and frowned.
‘You’re a good man.’ Jack patted Kanvar’s shoulder firmly. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’ He lowered his hand again. ‘All the same, I can’t ride back yet. I still can’t get the Great Yantra to work. I can’t go back empty-handed.’
‘I am afraid I think you will have to,’ Kanvar replied.
‘I must try again. At least once.’
‘There is little time. Takhat told me something else. Something you should know.’
Jack frowned. ‘What?’
Kanvar’s eyes widened. ‘Takhat received news from one of our comrades yesterday. The army have attacked Ludlow and appear to be overwhelming the rebels there. It seems they will soon take the city.’
Jack shivered, despite the fact that the sun was warming his skin. ‘If the army take Ludlow, they’ll be able to march on to Clun Valley.’ His voice was hoarse. The early morning light seemed intensely bright now. ‘When did the army attack?’
‘Takhat said three days ago.’
‘Three days? That was the day we left Folly Brook.’ He felt dizzy. ‘They could be in Clun already.’
Kanvar raised his hand. ‘They might not have defeated the rebels in such a short space of time.’
Jack clenched his jaw. ‘But they might have. And even if it took them longer, they might still be on the march right now. They could reach Clun at any time.’
‘That is so.’
Jack looked over at the stone circle, which was now bathed in sunlight. He’d wanted to try to use the power again, but he had to admit defeat at some point. The longer he delayed leaving, the longer it would take him to get back to Folly Brook. He’d planned to return within four days. Thanks to all the obstacles he and Kanvar had faced, they’d already spent three days just getting to the Great Yantra. How long would it take them to get back now, when war was spreading through Shropshire?
But he would be returning without a weapon he could use to fight the Rajthanans.
No Grail.
No Great Yantra’s power.
Damn it.
He nodded at Kanvar. ‘You’re right. I can’t waste any more time. We have to get back to Folly Brook. As quickly as we can.’
15
A flock of crows wheeled in the sky above Clun Valley. Jack halted his horse and stared at the birds. His countrymen believed crows were a portent of evil – of the Devil, even. But he’d learnt long ago from Jhala that this was just a superstition. He no longer believed in witches and omens and the evil eye. But crows were still a sign, a true sign, of at least one thing – death. Wherever there were corpses and carrion, there would be crows.
Kanvar rode up beside him. ‘What is it?’
‘Not sure.’ Jack rubbed his face and looked first to the east and then to the west. He and Kanvar had approached the valley from the north and had come out of the hills a few miles west of the town of Clun. In both directions he saw pillars of smoke spiralling into the overcast sky.
A chill ran down his back. He didn’t like the look of this. The smoke could be from burning livestock, but it appeared too thick for that. A pyre would have to be enormous to produce that amount of smoke.
It looked more like burning buildings.
‘Let’s get down there.’ His voice was cracked.
He angled his mare down the incline and into the valley. It was two days since he and Kanvar had set off from the circle of stones. They’d ridden hard across Staffordshire and Shropshire, stopping only to rest the horses and avoid Rajthanan patrols along the border. Jack’s eyes burned with tiredness and every muscle in his body ached. But a feverish alertness was overtaking him.
They reached the base of the valley and struck off along the main road to Newcastle. Three columns of smoke rose ahead, and further crows swarmed in the air. Jack spurred into a gallop, his mare’s hooves battering the dry ground and sending up a plume of dust in her wake.
His heart thudded hard in his chest. Bile rose in his throat, leaving a sour taste in the back of his mouth.
Fears gnawed like rats at the back of his mind, but he did his best to brush them away.
He mustn’t think the worst. He must hold on to hope.
A crowd of people appeared on the lane ahead. Without a moment’s hesitation, he sawed at his reins to turn his horse, left the road and charged towards the nearby woods.
Kanvar followed, calling out, ‘Did you see who they were?’
Jack shook his head. He hadn’t been able to make the figures out clearly, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
He raced down a track that wound between the trees. The path curved away from the main road, but then circled back until he was close enough to be able to spy on the crowd of people through the greenery.
He halted his horse and stared. He could see around forty men carrying a mixture of muskets, swords and bows. Some seemed to be standing guard, while others were lounging on the side of the road. Several appeared to be throwing stones at what looked like a tree stump.
Kanvar handed over the spyglass. Jack gazed through it and shivered slightly at what he saw.
The stump was in fact a man buried in the ground up to his waist. Worse, Jack recognised him. He was a peasant from Newcastle – Jack had seen him several times at the Cock-in-the-Hoop Inn. From time to time, the other men threw stones at the trapped man and laughed, as if they were playing a game.
And now Jack realised something else. Several of the stone-throwers wore surcoats bearing the mark of the three boars’ heads.
‘They’re Welsh,’ he hissed
. ‘That’s the sign of the Lord of the Marches.’
‘Waheguru,’ Kanvar whispered.
As Jack watched, a Welshman hurled another stone at the buried Englishman. Jack could see blood on the Englishman’s face and hands. The man was struggling to free himself, but the earth held him fast.
Jack felt his face reddening. His hand shook slightly as it held the glass.
For a second, he seriously thought about charging down to the road and trying to fight off the Welsh. But he knew he couldn’t do that. There were too many men for him and Kanvar to kill quickly – even with Lightning. And a fight was bound to attract the attention of any other troops in the area.
What was more important right now was getting back to Folly Brook.
‘Let’s go.’ He handed the glass back to Kanvar and spurred his mare into a gallop, fears whirling in his head.
He had to stay calm, had to stay focused.
Black smoke rose directly ahead, above the trees. He was sure it was coming from Newcastle now.
He slowed his horse and called across to Kanvar. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to ride straight into town.’ He nodded towards a slope to his right. ‘We’ll take a look from up there.’
He directed his horse up a steep track, rode through a stretch of woodland and eventually came out on a bare summit.
He leapt from the saddle and tethered his horse. ‘We’d better go carefully. There might be more Welsh about.’
Kanvar nodded and followed Jack on to the open ground.
They crept ahead, crouching low in the long grass. The smoke swirled up from the far side of the hill, but Jack still couldn’t see the town from this angle.
They drew up to a gorse bush on the brow of the hill. The wind changed direction and Jack caught a whiff of soot. The town was directly below them now. He only had to part the branches of the bush and look down in order to see it. But he hesitated. He didn’t want to do it.
Didn’t want to confirm what he already knew.
The War of the Grail Page 15
