The War of the Grail (20 page)

But he was running out of time.

The giant avatar gave a screech, the sound sailing across the empty plains. The beast strode past the hills and disappeared into the darkness. It still had a long way to go, if it were going to walk all the way to the other side of Staffordshire.

Elias stood up, his knees clicking. ‘We must go. It’s not safe around here.’

The peasants marched into the woods, following a track that was so overgrown even Jack wouldn’t have been able to spot it in the dark. Jack walked his horse, while Kanvar, still too weak to stand for long, sat slumped in his saddle, his white charger faintly luminous in the gloom.

For a moment, Jack wondered whether he should trust Elias and the others. He knew nothing about them. He didn’t even know why they’d been lurking in the hills in the middle of the night. On the other hand, they’d helped him and Kanvar avoid the Rajthanans. And they hadn’t slit his throat when they had the chance. That had to count for something.

He looked up at Kanvar. ‘That was quite a power you used before. Back in the gully.’

Kanvar nodded feebly. ‘It is called Night. It enables you to hide within shadows. But it takes a heavy toll. It cannot be used for long.’

‘You’ve used it to get in and out of Shropshire, then?’

‘Yes. On this latest visit I had to employ it several times.’

Elias led the group on through the forest. Arcades of trees receded into the darkness in all directions. The path almost vanished and they often had to push their way through clouds of leaves and grasping brambles.

After around twenty minutes, they left the hills and reached the edge of the woods. The peasants stood in the shadows and gazed across fields of wheat and barley.

Elias turned to Jack. ‘We have to move quickly now. There could be heathens or spies about.’

Elias and his men struck off into the open, staying close to the ground as they ran. Jack swung himself into his saddle, and he and Kanvar rode across the fields. They were more visible riding their horses – but, on the other hand, they could travel more quickly.

The peasants were heading towards a further stretch of woodland less than half a mile away. Jack and Kanvar overtook them and reached the trees first. Elias jogged over with his men, and then led the way into the forest. Jack dismounted and marched along at the rear of the group, but Kanvar was still too weak to walk and stayed in his saddle.

The woods were even thicker and more tangled here. Vines hung across the track and mantled the trees. Thorns snagged at Jack’s hose as he waded through the undergrowth. Without Elias and his men to follow, Jack was certain he would be lost already.

After around twenty minutes, a tiny light appeared in the distance, winking like a star through a mist of leaves and branches. Elias left the track and led his men towards the glow, cleaving his way through bracken and nettles. As the glimmer drew closer, Jack saw that it was a small fire.

The party came out in an area that had been cleared of brush and debris. A campfire flickered in the centre of the space and about thirty peasants huddled in a circle close to the flames. The group included women, children and the elderly, and they all looked as gaunt and grey-skinned as Elias. Several of the children appeared weak, their arms thin and their stomachs swollen. Further away from the fire, half hidden in the shadows, stood bivouacs and simple huts made of branches, leaves and earth.

Many of the peasants stood and watched warily as Jack and Kanvar emerged from the shadows.

Elias raised his hand and said to the group, ‘We can trust them. They won’t do us any harm.’

The peasants sat down again, but still shot furtive glances at Kanvar.

‘You live here?’ Jack asked Elias. ‘In the middle of the woods?’

Elias squinted at Jack. ‘What choice do we have?’

‘You’re outlaws?’

Elias wiped his nose with the back of his hand. ‘You could say that. Though I don’t agree with the laws that put us here.’

‘What happened to you?’

‘What happened?’ Elias grimaced. ‘The heathens is what happened. They said everyone in this manor was helping the crusaders over in Shropshire. Even the lord was guilty, they said. They confiscated all the land, clapped the lord in irons and knocked over our villages to make way for those mills. They said us commoners were all guilty, so we had to go to work in East Europe.’

Jack frowned. He’d heard many similar stories. General Vadula’s rule had been brutal. Many people had been killed or sent to work in the mines and farms in East Europe, where the empire was expanding into lands captured from the Slavs.

Elias hawked and spat at the ground. ‘I wasn’t going to East Europe. I wasn’t going anywhere. So, me and the others you see here, we turned outlaw. We came to live in the forest. We forage and hunt as best we can. Sometimes we have to go raiding.’

‘You raid the Rajthanans?’

‘We stole from a few estates. But then more soldiers came in. It’s too dangerous to rob the Rajthanan houses now. We stick to the railway villages. But even that’s risky.’ He looked towards the figures clustered about the fire, and his eyes moistened. ‘We do the best we can.’

Jack understood why the peasants would target the railway villages – they housed the gypsies and half-castes who were the only people prepared to work with train avatars. Railway workers were shunned by both Europeans and Rajthanans. But since the First Crusade, they’d had little choice but to side with the empire.

‘You were out raiding tonight, then?’ Jack asked.

Elias wiped his eyes. ‘Aye. Had no luck, though.’

‘I would give you food, if I could,’ Jack said. ‘But we only have a few army biscuits. Just enough to last two days or so.’ This was true – Jack and Kanvar had almost finished their supplies and would have to start hunting and foraging themselves, if they didn’t reach their destination soon.

‘It’s all right,’ Elias said. ‘You’re crusaders. We have no argument with you.’

‘Why don’t you join the crusade yourselves? You could go across the border at night.’

‘I’ve thought about it many times. But I don’t see the point. Soon Shropshire will be no better than here. The army are on their way. I’m sorry to tell you this, friend, but you can’t win.’

Jack went silent for a moment. He also doubted the crusaders could win. He could hardly encourage Elias to support a rebellion that might very well fail.

‘I understand,’ he mumbled, then looked up at Kanvar, who still sat astride his charger. ‘We should carry on. Can you keep going?’

‘I am all right,’ Kanvar said.

‘Right, then.’ Elias adjusted the ancient musket on his shoulder. ‘I’ll take you to the track myself. You can make your own way from there.’

Elias told the villagers he would return soon and then led Jack and Kanvar away from the campfire. Jack guided his mare by the reins, while Kanvar rode behind on his charger.

As they approached the edge of the encampment, Jack spotted a sheet of white cotton strung up between two trees. On it was a picture painted in vibrant ink. There were several holes in the cloth and an arrow jutted out from the centre.

Jack frowned. What was a painting doing out here in the middle of the forest?

As he drew closer he made out, in the wavering firelight, a portrait of an Indian man with a wide, fleshy face and an elaborate turban adorned with jewels. Jack recognised the man. He’d seen paintings of him before.

‘General Vadula.’ Elias spat at the picture. ‘We took it from one of the Rajthanan mansions. Use it for archery practice.’

Jack stared at the glowering portrait. This was the man who’d enslaved England for the past four years. The man responsible for so much suffering. And yet it was hard to imagine ever overthrowing him.

Elias led them on through the gloomy woods, and eventually, after half an hour, they came to a wide, reasonably clear pathway.

Elias pointed at the track. ‘Keep following that. It turns a few times, but it keeps going east. There’s forest most of the way, but you’ll go through a few open patches. Careful when you do that. There could be heathens about. In a few hours, you’ll see the circle of stones in front of you.’

Jack held out his hand. ‘Thank you. God’s grace to you and your people.’

Elias took Jack’s hand. ‘God’s grace to you.’ He nodded at Kanvar. ‘And your sorcerer there. I’ll pray you crusaders win your fight.’

Elias then turned and slipped away into the darkness, stepping so quietly that Jack couldn’t even hear his footsteps.

The first trace of dawn smouldered in the eastern sky as Jack and Kanvar finally emerged from the forest. They stopped their horses and gazed across uncultivated grassland studded with gorse bushes. About a hundred yards away, on a slightly raised piece of ground, stood a circle of stones. Each rock was taller than a man, and two of them, placed next to each other, were higher still.

The ride along the track had taken Jack and Kanvar longer than expected – they’d lost their way on several occasions and had had to retrace their steps.

But now, at least, they were here. And Kanvar had almost completely regained his strength.

Jack blinked in the growing light. He scanned the area, but saw no sign of life.

‘Takhat is late,’ Kanvar said.

Jack gestured towards the stones. ‘So, that’s it? That’s the edge of the Great Yantra?’

‘That is what we Sikhs suspect. There, at the stones, is where one of the spokes meets the outer edge of the yantra.’

Jack sat up straight in his saddle. Now it was time for him to try to use the Grail. Now was the last chance for him and his people.

He dismounted and handed his reins to Kanvar. ‘Keep a lookout. I’m going in there.’

‘What will you do?’

‘Anything I can think of.’

He strode across the grass. The sunlight was slowly peeling back the darkness and the stones cast long shadows across the ground. Birds came alive in the trees, crying at the dawn.

About halfway to the circle, he slipped into a powerful stream. The sattva churned about him and scratched at his eyes and nostrils. The sweet scent was overpowering, almost sickly, as if he were drowning in honey.

He must be in the Great Yantra now, within the outer rim.

He strode on and paused at the edge of the stones. The sattva was even stronger inside the circle – he could feel it billowing out and stroking his face, like the spray from waves breaking on a beach.

He glanced back at Kanvar, who was still sitting astride his horse. Then he turned back to the circle and took a deep breath. He recalled the stories of Galahad and Oswin. Galahad had been sent, along with the other Knights of the Round Table, to find the Grail. After travelling through the great forests of ancient Britain, he’d finally discovered it. The stories described it as being in a castle. But how accurate were the tales, really? Perhaps Galahad had simply come to a place similar to the one Jack was standing in now. Or perhaps he’d gone to a castle, but one that lay in the path of one of the Great Yantra’s sattva streams.

Then there was Oswin. The army of King Edward had been defeated by the old Caliph of England and had retreated to the top of Garrowby Hill. The Caliph’s forces had surrounded them and had come marching up the hill. But, at the same time, the knight Oswin had discovered the Grail once more and touched it. The power of the Grail defeated the Caliph and freed England.

Now England faced danger once again. Would it be Jack who would save his country? The idea seemed mad. But he still had to try.

Even if he failed, at least he would have tried.

He took another deep breath, shut his eyes and stepped into the circle.

T
he powerful sattva boiled about Jack, so strong it burnt his skin and stung his eyes. He rocked back slightly at the force of it. Here two giant streams collided and churned, forming an enormous whirlpool.

He held his hands out, felt the sattva rushing through his fingers. When he breathed in, the perfumed scent flooded his lungs.

He stood still for a moment with his arms raised.

Now what? He was in the meeting point. If the Great Yantra were the Grail, then surely he was touching it now.