The War of the Grail (42 page)

Jack had spent much of the past twenty-four hours up on the ramparts with the gunners or reporting to Sir Levin. But every few hours, he’d returned to the Folly Brook camp to check on Sonali. Each time he’d gone back, he’d expected to be given bad news. But each time, he’d found Sonali was still alive. Elizabeth and Mary had been tending to her and she was clinging on.

But she couldn’t last much longer.

Henry’s deputies had accepted Jack from the moment the earl had appointed him commander of the fort. None had questioned Jack’s authority.

Now the men were standing to attention next to their weapons as he paced along the walkway with one of Henry’s sergeants, a grizzled old man-at-arms. The cold wind fluttered Jack’s hair and he rubbed his hands together to warm them. Freezing winds often blew across the hilltop and up on the ramparts the men were exposed to them night and day.

Jack was pleased to note the walls had continued to withstand the onslaught. There were now numerous places where the parapet had been smashed, but so far the rest of the stonework had remained solid. However, he knew that couldn’t last. Mahasiddha Vadula had powers that could bring down a wall – Jack had found that out during the Siege of London. If Vadula came to the fortress in person, Jack had no doubt the general would use his powers to destroy the rebels’ defences.

Most of the artillery, Jack was pleased to note, had survived the fighting too. Several pieces had been struck by round shot, but the majority – around fifty guns and mortars – were still intact and lined up along the battlements.

He came to a halt and squinted in both directions along the wall. He noted there were several Mohammedans amongst the gunners. Most of the Mohammedans would have arrived in Shropshire as refugees during the past year. They’d remained loyal to the crusade, even when many Christians had abandoned the cause.

Finally, Jack turned to the sergeant. ‘Almost all the guns are here on the east wall. We only have a handful elsewhere.’

‘Aye, but we have to match the artillery over there.’ The sergeant nodded towards the hills.

‘Move an extra two guns to the other walls, in case there’s another surprise attack.’

‘We’ll do that, sir.’

‘Are the sentries still in place?’

‘Aye, sir. All along the walls.’

One of the first things Jack had instructed his men to do was to set up watchmen, to keep an eye on the slopes at all times. The rebels had to be ready for whatever further tricks Jhala might throw at them.

‘How are we doing for ammunition?’ Jack asked.

‘Plenty for the present time …’ The sergeant’s voice trailed off, because something over Jack’s shoulder had distracted him. His face dropped and he said, ‘You’d better take a look at this, sir.’

Jack turned and squinted to the north-east. At first, he couldn’t see what the sergeant was talking about. But then, beyond the sprawl of the European Army camp, he made out what looked like a column of figures moving along the road.

One of Henry’s men had given him a spyglass the day before. He raised this now and peered into the distance.

He shivered slightly. More troops were arriving. Many more. At the head of the column came European cavalry, and behind them marched European foot soldiers. Further back, hazy in the dust rising from the dry ground, he spotted the turquoise tunics and turbans of a Rajthanan battalion. He cursed under his breath. Indian troops were considered superior to Europeans – they were more disciplined, better trained and armed with the most recently issued firearms. These Rajthanan soldiers would no doubt be carrying the new rifled muskets, which were far more accurate than the smooth-bore firearms the European troops carried.

The train snaked away into the distance. Bringing up the rear, Jack saw horse artillery, swaying elephants and the beginning of the baggage carts.

He lowered the glass for a moment and did his best not to reveal his alarm to the men. There might be as many as ten thousand soldiers approaching, leaving Jhala with a force of around sixteen thousand.

Sixteen thousand.

And there could only be around a thousand uninjured people left in the fortress, some of whom would be too old or too young to fight. Could they really hold out against such a large force? It seemed an impossible task.

As Jack considered all this, he heard murmurs rippling between the men along the wall. The sergeant was speaking to one of his comrades and pointing towards the north-east.

Jack lifted the glass again and surveyed the approaching army. To the right of the main column, away from the dirt road, a gigantic form lumbered across the heath. It was blurred by a cloud of smoke and steam. For a moment, Jack couldn’t make it out clearly. But then he spotted an iron thorax, jointed legs and a head dotted with stalks and rivets. Two green eyes glowed on the creature’s crown.

It looked like the avatar from the forest.

Jack studied the beast’s head carefully and identified several broken stalks. It seemed to be the same creature he and Kanvar had fought.

He lowered the glass and couldn’t stop his face from dropping slightly. The avatar had been almost invincible when he and Kanvar had confronted it. Bullets hadn’t harmed it. Kanvar’s powers had barely done any damage to it.

The rebels would have a hard time fighting against this creature. And he’d seen what the avatar was capable of, seen the villages it had destroyed in north Shropshire.

Damn it.

Whichever way Jack looked at it, the chances of the rebels surviving were looking slimmer than ever.

‘R
ao will come.’ Sonali shivered. ‘The treaty …’

Jack bent closer to her. ‘Just rest. You mustn’t use up all your strength.’

He’d already told her Jhala had dismissed the idea of the treaty, but there was no point repeating that now.

Sonali swallowed. Her face, as was always the case now, was bathed in sweat and her cheeks were hollow. Her eyes searched the roof of the chamber. ‘Mahajan’s here.’

Jack took her hand. ‘He’s not. You’re not in his castle any more.’

She frowned slightly. ‘Oh.’ Her eyes focused on Jack again. ‘Are we in Folly Brook?’

Jack held her hand more tightly. ‘You must rest.’

‘Oh.’ She eased her head back and closed her eyes.

She’d been lying in this room for three days. All the other injured had died and been buried in the communal grave beside the north wall. But Sonali still clung on, lasting for longer than Jack had ever thought possible.

But she was slipping in and out of consciousness, often speaking about things that made no sense. Dreams and the past and the present seemed to be muddled up in her mind.

She opened her eyes again and licked her lips. ‘I’m thirsty.’

Jack’s eyes strayed to the tankard standing beside the sleeping mat. It was empty. She’d finished her day’s water ration already and had even had his share. In theory, she would have to wait until tomorrow before she could have any more.

He grasped the tankard. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

He left the chamber and walked down the narrow corridor. A couple of shells burst in the distance, but the bombardment was lighter than it had been in previous days. He’d even been able to move around the fortress without feeling in great danger, as he had before.

Saleem stood guard outside the storeroom, a musket at his side. The food and water had to be protected at all times now to ensure no one took more than their fair share.

Jack waved the empty tankard. ‘Sonali needs water. I’ll take my ration for tomorrow now. She can have that.’

Saleem’s eyes widened. ‘If it’s for Sonali, you could take some extra.’

‘No.’ Jack spoke sharply. ‘No one gets extra, you understand?’

Saleem’s eyes widened further and he stared at the ground.

Jack sighed and said more gently, ‘Thanks for the offer. But we can’t go breaking the rules for me, Sonali or anyone else. It’s not fair on the others.’

Saleem nodded and stepped aside to admit Jack into the storeroom. Jack walked across to the barrel, lifted the lid and gazed for a moment at the dark water. The light from the single candle danced on the surface. His mouth felt as though it were full of sand, and his throat was so dry it burned. He wanted to stick his head in the barrel and drink until it was empty.

He stood there gazing for perhaps too long, because he noticed Saleem watching him with concern.

He pulled himself together, plunged the tankard into the water, brushed past Saleem and went back to Sonali’s side. He pressed the tankard to her lips and she drank until there were no more than a few drops left.

When Jack saw the melee taking place near the gatehouse, he immediately clambered up a set of stairs that led to nowhere and stood at the top, as if at a pulpit. Below him two factions were pushing and shoving each other. A cache of food and water had been discovered in a shelter where the roof had collapsed, killing all inside. Two groups had already laid claim to it. They were arguing heatedly and would soon come to blows, by the look of it.

Jack raised his hand. ‘Stop!’

At first, no one paid any attention to him. They were too busy fighting over the supplies.

Jack tried again. ‘Stop! Now!’

The crowd calmed and the two opposing sides shuffled apart from each other. Everyone stared up at Jack. He was struck by how thin, drawn and dirty they all appeared. They looked like vagrants who’d been wandering the countryside for years.

He cleared his throat. He felt so thirsty black spots were circling before his eyes. But he had to say something now, had to rally his people.

He’d never been good at this sort of thing. For a moment, he thought of William. His friend had been a rebel leader and had inspired many to join the crusade. Jack had seen William give a speech in London before Vadula’s attack.

What would William say now?

Jack raised his hand again. ‘We should not be fighting amongst ourselves. The enemy are just outside these walls. We have to remain together if we’re going to survive. We are all brothers and sisters.’

He motioned to the small collection of barrels and sacks that everyone had been fighting over moments before. ‘These will be shared out evenly throughout the fortress. I will make sure of that. In the meantime, all of you need to be prepared to defend this fortress at a moment’s notice. Keep your muskets and cartridges with you at all times. Be ready both day and night. Our situation might look difficult, but our people have faced many challenges in the past, and we will overcome the challenges we face now. We must all pray to God to deliver us.’

He looked about him at the gaunt but now hopeful faces staring back at him.

He raised his hand in a fist. ‘God’s will in England.’

‘God’s will in England,’ the crowd murmured back.