The War of the Grail (51 page)

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Authors: Geoffrey Wilson

BOOK: The War of the Grail
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‘I believe we can trust them,’ Jack said. ‘The negotiator is a friend of mine. He wouldn’t betray us. I’m certain of that.’

The earl took a wheezy breath and examined the sheet of paper Jack had handed to him. ‘We have little alternative. We are weak. Many of us are dying. I cannot see how we could withstand another assault.’

‘That is true,’ Levin said. ‘At least if we see them withdraw from this area, we’ll know it’s safe to come down. We could always return here, if we find this is all some sort of trick.’

‘Very well, then.’ The earl motioned to one of his attendants. ‘Bring me my pen.’

The attendant left the courtyard and returned with a Rajthanan pen and an inkwell on a silver platter. The young man went down on one knee beside the earl, who took the pen, dabbed it in the ink and scrawled his signature on the piece of paper.

‘There is no sand.’ He handed the page to the attendant. ‘Blow on it.’

The attendant took the paper, blew on it until the ink was dry and then handed it to Jack.

‘Well, Jack Casey,’ the earl said, ‘it seems you have successfully saved this fortress. As I promised, I will knight you.’

Jack bowed his head. ‘It’s a kind offer, my lord. I’m grateful. But I have another request.’

The earl frowned. ‘Oh?’

Jack looked up and met the earl’s gaze. ‘I would prefer it if another were knighted in my place. He’s served the crusade since the beginning. He’s fought bravely in many battles. He’s given everything for the cause. And he saved my granddaughter’s life. He deserves to be knighted more than I do.’

The earl raised an eyebrow. ‘A strange request. You are certain of this?’

‘I am. It would please me more than anything.’

The earl sat back. ‘Very well. I will offer you a bargain. I will knight your comrade, but only on the condition that you allow yourself to be knighted as well. Immediately.’

‘My lord, there is no need—’

‘Do you want your friend to be knighted or not?’

Jack hesitated. ‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Then stop your bleating and step forward.’

Jack could see there was no point in refusing. The earl was determined.

And yet, Jack still felt reluctant. At first he didn’t know why – but then he realised.

William.

It was William who should be getting the knighthood. He was the true rebel leader. Jack hadn’t even supported the crusade at first and he’d betrayed his old friend. He didn’t deserve to be knighted.

But then he remembered what William had said to him four years ago: ‘You were in a tough spot. I understand.’

William had just learnt that Jack had been sent to hunt him down. And yet, even at that stage, he’d been prepared to forgive.

Maybe Jack had to start forgiving himself.

He walked forward and went down on one knee. One of the earl’s pages approached with an arming-sword. The earl lifted the blade and tapped it against the side of Jack’s neck.

And with that, Jack was dubbed a knight.

Jack delivered the signed document to Rao, and the wounded were transported down the hill using the remaining vehicles.

Jack rode alongside the mule cart carrying Sonali, following it all the way to the hospital tent. And, after the doctors drew the bullet out, he stayed at her side as she lay on a cot. He stayed there all night, until the doctors could tell him with certainty that she would survive.

When he returned to the fortress, he found Saleem and brought him to the earl’s residency. The two of them stood before the earl in the courtyard. Sir Levin was also in attendance, along with two of the earl’s pages, one of whom carried the arming-sword.

The earl sat forward slightly, narrowing his eyes as he peered at Saleem.

Saleem licked his lips, swallowed and shot a fearful look at Jack.

Jack couldn’t help grinning. The lad thought he was in trouble. He had no idea.

Finally, the earl leant back in his seat. ‘Saleem al-Rashid.’

Saleem bowed his head. ‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Your friend Jack has told me much about you. He has praised you very highly. You are a Mohammedan and yet you have fought bravely, along with several others of your religion. For too long the Mohammedans have been regarded with, shall I say, suspicion in our country. It is time that ended. The war against the Caliph was two hundred years ago. You, and your comrades, have proven yourselves in this and many other battles during the crusade. Therefore, I have decided to knight you and to request that you return with me to Shrewsbury to serve in my forces.’

Saleem’s mouth dropped open and he glanced at Jack.

‘Jack tells me you have your mother and sisters with you,’ the earl continued. ‘They will also be provided for in Shrewsbury.’

Saleem went to speak, then couldn’t seem to find the words.

The earl frowned. ‘Well? What do you have to say for yourself?’

Saleem shot another look at Jack, his eyes wide and glassy.

‘Go on.’ Jack nodded towards the earl. ‘Say something.’

Saleem looked at the ground, his cheeks going a deep red. He smiled slightly and said in a voice so soft it was barely audible, ‘I would be honoured to serve you, my lord.’

‘Very well, then,’ the earl replied. ‘Step forward.’

Saleem walked across to the earl and went down on one knee. The page handed the sword to the earl, who lifted it and, with a shaking hand, tapped Saleem on the side of the neck. He handed the sword back to the page, then said in a wheezy voice, ‘I bid you arise, Sir Saleem.’

35

T
he celebration took place on a Sunday night, in the field just outside Newcastle-on-Clun. Everyone from the surrounding area attended. Candle lanterns were hung from the trees, minstrels were summoned and pigs were stuck on spits over a series of fires. A huge bonfire blazed in the centre of the field and the sparks floated up into the black night.

The people of Clun Valley felt as much sorrow as joy. So many had died, so many more were badly injured or missing. And yet, the people were free. The native state of Shropshire had been returned to its earl, and the Rajthanans were arranging for the other earls of England to sign the treaty.

The Earl of Northumberland had been appointed regent and would rule until Prince Stephen came of age.

The minstrels played their drums, lutes and pipes frenetically and the young people danced wildly about the bonfire.

Jack spotted Elizabeth standing alone, holding up Katelin’s necklace and gazing at it as it glinted in the firelight. So far, few people knew what had happened to her up in the Fortress of the Djinns. But eventually the word would get out.

He walked across to her. ‘So, it was you all along.’

She lowered the necklace. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Turns out you were the pure knight. You were the one who would use the power to save us all.’

She frowned. ‘It’s hard to believe. Are you sure?’

‘I spoke to the army siddhas before we came back here. I had a long talk with them. They were suspicious of me at first, but they wanted to know what I knew. It seems that when you used the Great Yantra, all yogic powers stopped working and all avatars fell apart. Not just in the fortress, but across the whole of England. Reports have been coming in from all over the place, apparently. Powers don’t work any more in England. They’re fine in the rest of Europe, but not here.’

‘Everywhere in England?’

‘Seems so.’

‘I did that?’

‘Aye.’ He grinned at her. ‘I reckon it was the same for Oswin and Galahad. Remember the old stories. Galahad freed England from enchantment. That’s what you’ve done, isn’t it? You’ve stopped powers from working.’

‘I suppose so. What about Oswin? I thought in the stories he used the Grail as a weapon.’

‘The stories just say the Grail released a power and that meant the Caliph was defeated. No one knew what that power was. I reckon it was the same – it stopped powers. Magic, if you like. One of the reasons the Caliph was so powerful was that he had siddhas, or something like them. The English were trapped up on a hill, just like we were. When the power of the Grail was released, the Caliph’s siddhas would have lost all their abilities. That must have tipped the balance in favour of the English.’

‘It makes sense. It’s all so strange, though.’ Elizabeth gazed at the figures cavorting about the flames. ‘Still, if the power of the Grail stops powers from being used, why could people use powers in England up until a few days ago?’

‘That is a mystery. When I talked to the siddhas, they seemed to think the effect is only temporary. It’ll wear off at some point in the future, no doubt, but probably not for many years.’

Elizabeth mulled this over for a moment, then said, ‘There’s something I still don’t understand. You used the necklace, the Great Yantra, yourself. Do you know why you didn’t release the power?’

‘I talked about this with the siddhas. No one is sure about this, but it seems the key to the yantra is that it “purifies”. Jhala said that to me at the fortress, but I didn’t understand what he meant at the time. I’m not sure I even understand it now. But the siddhas told me that when you use the yantra on yourself, it purifies you. That’s why you can then break the law of karma. You see, normally, using a power makes you impure. It tangles up spirit and matter. But the Great Yantra untangles all that and makes you pure again.

‘What happened to you is a bit different. You weren’t trying to use the power on yourself, you were trying to use it to save England. That meant England was purified, rather than you.’

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’

‘Aye. Not sure any of us will ever fully understand it. But whatever the case, you did it. You were the one who touched the Grail. You are the pure knight.’

‘I don’t feel like anything special.’

Jack put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re special to me. But perhaps you don’t need to be anything other than a normal person to use the Grail. You knew the design of the yantra, you touched the Grail by sitting inside it and you made a sacrifice and so moved away from the material world. You unlocked the secret. That’s special enough.’

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I thought I was going to die when I did it.’

‘I thought you were too.’

‘I had a choice.’

‘A choice?’

‘When it happened, when there was all that light around me, I had a strange feeling, as if I could give up everything and everyone. I could float away if I wanted to. Like going up to heaven. But I realised I could pull myself back. I didn’t have to go away.’

Jack kissed Elizabeth on the top of her head. ‘Thank God you didn’t let yourself float away.’

‘Oswin and Galahad must have chosen to go up to heaven.’

‘That must be it.’

Elizabeth smiled. ‘They were purer than me, then. I wasn’t ready to say farewell yet.’

Jack found Rao gazing at the bonfire, a mug in his hand. He’d ridden down to Clun with Jack and agreed to spend a night in the valley to join the celebrations.

‘You’re not drinking ale, are you?’ Jack asked.

Rao smiled and lifted the mug. ‘It’s not bad. One could get used to it.’

‘You still riding to Leintwardine tomorrow?’

‘I must. The Maharaja is expecting a report from me. I must post it to him.’

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