It was Jhala. The general himself had joined the attack.
It was unheard of for a general to take part in a battle, but then Jhala had never been an ordinary officer. As a captain he’d been in the thick of the fighting, even when that wasn’t entirely necessary. He’d been a champion wrestler and had even trained with his own European troops. Clearly, despite the years, he hadn’t changed. He was still determined to lead from the front.
And, beyond all this, he was obviously confident that his forces were on the verge of taking the fortress. He wouldn’t have risked joining the assault unless he was certain of success.
The rebels were now retreating from the breach and fleeing into the ruins. Jhala fired a couple more lightning bolts and then marched into the fortress, heading north, his troops filing behind him. The other two siddhas peeled off from the column and led a smaller force towards the centre of the ruins.
Jack lowered the glass. Jhala and the siddhas would be difficult to stop. The rebels faced defeat unless they could force the attackers back outside the walls. But that was looking less and less likely. Jhala and his men were advancing virtually unopposed.
Jack had to do something. Quickly.
He slung the musket on his shoulder and turned to Fletcher. ‘Keep an eye on both sides of the wall.’ He motioned towards Jhala and his men. ‘And be ready to fire on that lot, if they come this way.’
Fletcher nodded. ‘But you’ll be with us, though, won’t you, sir?’
‘I’ll try to be,’ Jack muttered. Then he faced Elizabeth and Saleem, saying, ‘You two stay here. I have to do something.’
Elizabeth frowned. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Just stay here,’ he snapped. The words sounded harsh but he had to make sure Elizabeth didn’t try to follow him. Then he gave her a tight smile and softened his tone. After all, this might be the last time he ever spoke to her. ‘You need to look after Cecily.’ He looked across at Saleem. ‘And both of you need to help defend this wall. The enemy could try another attack. We don’t know what else they could throw at us.’ He gazed back at Elizabeth and grasped her arm. ‘God’s grace to you. Take care of yourself.’
Before Saleem or Elizabeth could protest, he pushed past the men crowding around the battlements and ran down the walkway, heading south towards Jhala.
Jack jogged around the pyramids of shot, ammunition chests and milling rebels. Many men were still fighting off the centipedes with burning brands, muskets and even sponge staffs. But at least there seemed to be fewer creatures than before.
From time to time Jack scanned the fort for Jhala and his men. He couldn’t see them amongst the ruins, but the occasional flickers of green lightning guided him.
When he was about halfway along the wall, he reached a set of stairs and plunged down into the fortress. A few of the crusaders behind him called out, warning him to come back, but he ignored them. He reached the ground, glanced around and saw no centipedes nearby.
He swallowed. His throat was painfully dry. He’d had half a tankard of water the day before, and nothing at all so far today.
He charged across to the ruins and ducked down an alleyway. Hearing shouts and the popping of muskets, he struck off in the direction of the sounds. He wound his way through a series of roofless chambers, ducked through archways and shattered apertures, then skirted a tower. He occasionally spied centipedes in the distance, but he always managed to avoid them.
He came out suddenly in a wide boulevard. A firefight was taking place ahead of him. Rebels crouched behind the broken masonry, blasting with their muskets at the attackers at the far end of the avenue. Bullets criss-crossed the air, screamed off walls and kicked up spurts of dirt from the ground. Several wounded rebels lay near Jack. Another was wandering about in a circle, clutching his head and moaning.
A bolt of lightning suddenly roared down the boulevard and battered into a group of rebels. The men were knocked backwards and flung to the ground. Jack could smell the burnt flesh and clothing from where he was standing.
The lightning had to have been fired by Jhala.
Jack squinted into the smoke. His old commander was nearby.
A musket ball shrieked against the wall near his head, chipping the stone and spitting grit. He ducked back into the ruins and cast his eyes about. He had to stop Jhala. The general might be a powerful siddha, but he wasn’t invincible. If Jack could kill him, the assault might falter, or at least slow. That could give the rebels enough of a chance to fight back.
His eyes fell upon a small, domed building. It could have been a mosque at one time, although the stonework was so worn it was impossible to tell. From the roof of that building Jack guessed he would be able to see Jhala and his men.
Jack charged across to the structure and climbed up the side, thrusting through vines as he went. He stood on a ledge that encircled the dome and inched his way round until he could see down into the boulevard.
Jhala’s men were hiding behind the stonework and firing at the rebels through a cloud of powder smoke. Most of them were European Army soldiers, but there were also several Rajthanan officers wielding rotary pistols.
And then Jack gave an involuntary hiss. He’d spotted Jhala.
His old commander was standing towards the rear of the party. But at intervals, he would step out from behind a block of masonry and fling lightning at his opponents. And each time he did that, Jack could see him clearly.
Jack had a clear shot at him.
He heard footsteps below him and spotted two Rajthanan soldiers running through the ruins nearby. He shrank back against the dome, but the two men would see him instantly if they looked up. Sweat crossed his forehead and he gripped the sling of the musket, ready to shoot if he had to.
But the two soldiers didn’t pause for a moment. Instead, they ran on into the ruins, soon vanishing from sight.
Jack edged back round the dome and looked down into the boulevard again. He couldn’t see Jhala, but the general was bound to step out again to use his lightning at any moment.
And then Jack would have his chance.
He thought of the Lightning yantra and left it dangling at the back of his mind. And then he waited. He kept his eyes fixed on the place where Jhala was hiding. He heard the cries and musket blasts, smelt the acrid scent of the powder smoke, sensed the bullets whispering in the air. But he ignored them all. Because now he had to make sure he killed Jhala. He might never get a chance like this again.
But Jhala didn’t reappear. He remained in his hiding place for three minutes or more.
Sweat ran into Jack’s eyes. His heart thudded in his throat and pounded in his ears.
Why wouldn’t Jhala come out? What was he waiting for?
Then Jack heard a deep rumble to his left, loud enough to send dust trickling down the side of the dome.
He swivelled his head in time to see a giant, orange fireball boiling in the air on the other side of the boulevard. The flames crackled, snarled and coursed in veins about the ball. And underneath, with his hands raised to the heavens, stood Jhala.
Jhala swung his hand at Jack, as if throwing a stone. The fireball instantly shot across the boulevard, heading directly for Jack.
Jack cursed.
Jhala had seen him.
32
Jack leapt off the building and flew through the air.
The fireball pounded the dome where he’d been standing and flames hissed in all directions. He felt the heat scorching the back of his neck.
He landed on the ground behind a wall. He could no longer see Jhala or the boulevard, but he could hear the fight continuing.
How the hell had Jhala known he was there? His old commander must have spotted him climbing up the building, or perhaps used some power to sense him.
Whatever the case, Jack had to move quickly before Jhala and his troops came for him. He ran across a small courtyard and back into the labyrinth of the ruins. He charged through a series of arches and then hid behind a wall, gasping for breath.
&
nbsp; He’d escaped. But what now? He still had to deal with Jhala. But Jhala now knew he was in the area. Jhala would be looking out for him.
He heard voices behind him, near enough to be audible over the continuing musket fire. He edged his head round the side of the wall and saw Jhala stalking between a set of pillars, three soldiers striding behind him.
Jhala was hunting for Jack personally, it seemed. And he was so sure of his powers that he hadn’t even brought many men with him.
Jack scanned his surroundings and spotted a wall that had crumbled to about waist height. It ran parallel to the row of pillars, so he would be able to get a clear shot at Jhala from there.
He slipped across to the wall and ran along behind it, crouching low to keep out of sight. When he thought he’d gone far enough, he skidded to a halt. He took a deep breath, brought the Lightning yantra to mind and held it at the ready in his thoughts.
Finally, he raised his head above the wall.
He jumped slightly. Not only was Jhala now directly in front of him, he was much closer than before. He’d left the row of columns and was now heading straight towards the wall where Jack was hiding, with the three soldiers following behind.
Jack’s eyes met Jhala’s. For a moment, the two of them were staring at each other in surprise. But then Jack raised his hand, uttered the command and hurled a bolt at Jhala.
Jhala reacted more quickly than Jack had thought possible. Before the lightning reached him, Jhala had lifted his hand and voiced the mantra as well. The lightning forked from his fingertips and thumped into the bolt Jack had fired. The two streams of light smacked into each other, producing a pulse of snarling energy.
And then there was nothing. Both bolts had vanished.
Jack blinked. He hadn’t realised lightning could be used defensively like that.
But he didn’t pause to consider this any further, because the soldiers were already raising their muskets. He ducked back down behind the wall and scurried away. The muskets spluttered and bullets whined against the top of the wall, spraying dust. He kept running. Ahead, he could see an archway leading into a further chamber. If he could get through it, he might have a chance of escaping.
A pulse of lightning pummelled the wall, chipping off pieces of stone. A second volley of musket balls rattled over his head.
But then he was charging through the archway and scrambling through the maze of walls and broken doorways. He glanced about him, but he couldn’t see his pursuers anywhere.
He’d lost them.
He ran on, avoided a couple of centipedes and then raced out of an entryway and into an expanse of open ground. Directly ahead of him, he saw a knot of crumbling walls, beyond which lay the mound of rubble on the south side of the Great Yantra courtyard. He could just make out the top of the oak and the rambling palace where he, Elizabeth and the others had taken refuge from the centipedes. To his right, the giant avatar bellowed and reared up above the buildings. But to his left, he now heard the click of multiple musket-knives.
When he turned, he saw five European soldiers standing with their firearms pointing at him, the knives jutting out from below the barrels.
He jolted, turned back and went to leap through the entryway. But then he saw there were two more soldiers and a Rajthanan officer approaching from behind him. And now, coming round a corner to his right were two further soldiers and Jhala himself.
Jack was surrounded.
He shut his eyes for a second, brought the yantra to mind and flung a lightning bolt at Jhala.
But Jhala casually lifted his hand, voiced the command and fired his own bolt. Once again, the two streams collided in mid-air, crackled and sparked as if they were tussling with each other, before vanishing.
Jhala shook his head. ‘Jack Casey. I told you my powers were great. You cannot win. Give yourself up now.’
Jack lifted the musket and prepared to fire.
Jhala raised his hand again. ‘I wouldn’t bother with that. I can destroy your bullet just as easily as your lightning.’
The soldiers beside Jhala raised their muskets and trained them on Jack. No doubt the others encircling Jack were doing the same.
Could Jhala really stop a bullet? He would have to be unbelievably quick for that. But, on the other hand, it could be possible. Jack recalled that Mahajan had been protected by a magical shield that not even bullets could penetrate.
‘I’ll make you an offer,’ Jhala said. ‘Put aside your musket and fight me single-handed. No weapons save for our powers. Just you and me. I give you my word no one else will intervene.’
Jack narrowed his eyes and kept his musket trained on Jhala. ‘Why would you do that?’
Jhala smiled. ‘Because I am an honourable man. You know that. You are outnumbered. I could have you killed instantly. And yet that is hardly honourable. You and I have some scores to settle, it seems. We should settle them through a fair fight.’
Jack rested his finger against the trigger. He could still fire. Jhala’s men would shoot him straight away once he did that. But perhaps he could hit Jhala before that happened.
Perhaps.
The giant avatar roared and lumbered across the far side of the open ground, kicking up dust behind it. Its footfalls were so heavy that the impact shivered through the ground.
A centipede slithered towards Jhala and his men but stopped as it came closer, then hissed and turned away. It seemed the creatures could detect who was an enemy and who wasn’t.
Jack lowered the musket. What choice did he have? He would have to take Jhala at his word, would have to trust that Jhala would offer him a fair fight.
Jhala nodded slowly, his eyes moist. In a hoarse voice he said, ‘I am so very sad it has come to this.’
Jhala took his pistol from its holster and handed it to one of his men. Then he unbuckled his belt, undid his cummerbund and lifted his tunic up over his head. He stood facing Jack, wearing just his undershirt, trousers and boots.
Jack went to lean his musket against the wall, but one of the soldiers grasped it from his hands and carried it away. Another soldier took the knife from his belt. The rest of the men backed away a few feet, leaving Jhala and Jack to face each other across an empty stretch of ground.
Jhala circled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. Despite his age, and his previous ill health, he looked well, strong. It was as if he’d grown younger since Jack last saw him. Jack was still almost twenty years Jhala’s junior. But, at the same time, Jack was crippled by thirst, hunger and exhaustion. Added to that, he’d used Lightning so many times that he now had the strange sense of his head being empty. He’d used up much of his sattva.
And what about Jhala? Jack’s old guru had used Lightning plenty of times recently too. How much more sattva could he have left?
Jhala crouched, as if to begin a wrestling match, and circled Jack slowly. Jack did the same. It was as though, for a moment, he were back in the training tent in the army, back learning from his commander how to fight.
‘You should have accepted my offer,’ Jhala said. ‘You would have been far away from all this by now, if you had. None of this was necessary.’
‘My family are here,’ Jack replied.
Jhala raised an eyebrow. ‘Why didn’t you say? I would have spared them too.’
‘I couldn’t abandon my people.’
‘Really? You’d risk your family’s lives for a cause?’
As Jack prepared to speak, he was already recalling the Lightning yantra. It was difficult to talk while focusing on the design. He wanted to close his eyes to concentrate, but he managed to keep them open. ‘I doubt my family would have agreed to leave. We’re all committed to the crusade.’
Jhala snorted. ‘Crusade? How can you call this mutiny a crusade? There have been no crusades in Europe for hundreds of years. You know that.’
Jack opened his mouth, pretending to be about to reply, but instead he raised his hand and spoke the secret commands. The lightning sizzled from his fingers and fo
rked towards Jhala.
Jhala’s face dropped and his eyes widened. He spoke the mantra quickly and lifted his arm. Lightning flew from his fingers just in time to block Jack’s attack, but the collision caused a pulse of energy that knocked him back a few steps.
Jhala had managed to defend himself, but he looked ruffled. He composed himself and then squinted at Jack. ‘You have advanced considerably.’
‘For a native siddha.’
Jhala narrowed his eyes further, bent his knees and began circling again. ‘You could say that.’
‘You told me I could never learn anything beyond the Europa yantra.’
‘That is what I believed, what I was told.’
And now it was Jhala’s turn to launch a surprise attack. He pointed his fingers at Jack and blasted a streak of lightning.
Jack reacted instinctively. He dived to the side and managed to launch himself out of the way. But one prong of the lightning slapped his ankle. His foot felt as though a giant mallet had pounded it. It went numb for a moment, then throbbed with agonising pain.
He landed on his side and skidded through the dust before coming to a stop. He looked at his leg and saw that his boot had been burnt away. His foot was now scorched, the skin bright pink like boiled meat. The pain swamped him for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and lurched back upright.
Jhala was already preparing to fire lightning again. Jack tried to dodge to the side but realised this was pointless. The moment he put any weight on his injured foot, the pain overwhelmed him. He couldn’t move fast enough to escape – his only hope was to use his own power in defence.
Jhala began to raise his arm. Jack quickly recalled the yantra and muttered the command. As Jhala’s lightning streaked across the open ground, Jack’s response struck it. The two streams crackled and then vanished.
Jack had found it easier than he’d thought to defend himself. The bolts of lightning seemed to attract each other, and he hadn’t even had to aim in order to block Jhala’s attack.
The giant avatar roared. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw the gigantic form lumbering closer.
The War of the Grail Page 33
