The War of the Grail (52 page)

‘And after that?’

‘I will return to Andalusia and Reena. We have a marriage to arrange.’

‘I’m pleased for you.’

Rao smiled. ‘It’s all worked out in the end, hasn’t it?’

Jack cleared his throat. ‘I’ve a lot to thank you for. All these people here might be dead, if it weren’t for you.’

Rao laughed nervously and looked at his boots. ‘Well, I don’t know. I simply tried my best to do what was right. You got me thinking when we were in Scotland. I was lucky enough to be able to act on my convictions. To make a difference.’

Jack patted Rao on the shoulder. ‘Whatever the case, I can tell you, everyone here is grateful to you. We’ll always remember what you did.’ He looked towards the flames. ‘Another thing. I’ve decided to ride with you to Leintwardine.’

‘Oh?’

‘It’s on my way to Dorsetshire.’

A smile spread across Rao’s face. ‘I see.’

It was easy for Rao to understand Jack’s motivation. Sonali was in Dorsetshire. Once she’d recovered enough to be moved, she’d been transported back to her aunt’s estate, where she would be recuperating. Jack hadn’t had a chance to speak to her before she was taken away. It had happened suddenly – when he’d gone to the hospital for a second time, he was told she’d already left.

‘The doctors told me she should make a full recovery,’ Rao said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you.’

Jack rubbed his chin. ‘Hope so. I don’t know what she’ll have to say when I show up there.’

‘My impression is that she will be happy to see you.’

‘She was happy spending time with me here in Shropshire, but it’ll be different in Dorsetshire. She’s a Rajthanan and I’m an Englishman.’ He looked down. ‘She might be ashamed to see me.’

Rao’s moustache rippled on his top lip. ‘Somehow, I don’t think so. But you will have to take a risk. As a friend, as a brother, I urge you to go and find out what she has to say. That’s the only way you’ll know.’

In the morning, it turned out that Jack and Rao weren’t the only people leaving the valley. Saleem and his family had packed their few remaining possessions in a mule cart and were setting off for their new life in Shrewsbury. Saleem drove the cart, while his mother and sisters sat huddled in the back. Rao and Jack rode alongside as far as the point where the road forked near the town of Clun.

They all paused at the split in the road.

Jack nodded to the northerly route. ‘That’s the way to Shrewsbury. I’ll come to see you soon.’

Saleem looked at the ground, his face reddening. ‘I hope I’ll still be there.’

Jack frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’m not a real knight, am I? It must be a mistake.’

Jack shook his head. ‘No, you’re a real knight. You always were. Enough moping now. You have a new life to be getting on with, Sir Saleem.’

Saleem looked up. ‘You will come, won’t you? Soon.’

‘Of course. In a few weeks. Now go.’

Jack slapped the rump of the mule and it lurched forward along the north road. The cart rattled away, wisps of dust rising behind it, until it finally disappeared round a bend.

O
n his way south, Jack stopped at the cemetery where Katelin was buried. In the past, he’d come here often with Elizabeth, but since he’d gone to Shropshire he hadn’t been back once.

He walked between the graves, a bunch of wildflowers in his hand, and found the simple cross of wood and brass that marked where Katelin lay. He placed the flowers on top of the grave and knelt for a moment, praying.

‘Sorry I haven’t been back for a while,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you understand. I’ll come back more now the country’s at peace. Elizabeth’s eager to come as well.’ He stilled a quiver in his voice. ‘I’m so sorry you aren’t here to see Cecily. I know you would have loved being a grandmother. But I’m sure you’re looking down on us and watching over us all. I’m sure you understand everything I’m trying to say to you now.’

He took a deep breath. ‘And I’m sure you’ll understand and forgive me for where I’m going next.’

He was in a strange mood as he left the graveyard. On an impulse, he left the mare tethered to a tree and instead crossed the road and walked across to the edge of a forest. He scoured the ground for some kindling and a few larger branches, which he used to make a small fire. Once the flames were crackling and consuming the wood, he stepped back and bowed his head slightly.

He didn’t know why he was doing this. But he couldn’t help himself, and it somehow seemed right – or, at least, necessary.

‘General Jhala,’ he mumbled, ‘you didn’t get a funeral. No one found your body. No one was all that interested. So, I’ve lit this fire for you at least. In the way you Rajthanans do. You don’t deserve this. But I’m doing it anyway.’

He raised his eyes and stared at the flames for a moment. He didn’t know the words the Rajthanans said in these situations. And he wouldn’t have said them, even if he did. It was enough that he’d lit this fire.

And yet, he found that he had a stone in his throat.

‘You betrayed me, sir. But at least you died honourably. You tried to stop that creature, Vadula, from killing innocent civilians. I’ll remember that.’

He drew himself up taller, pressed his hands together in front of his chest and bowed slightly. ‘Farewell, sir.’

Then he stamped out the fire, turned and walked back to the road.

The steward at the house of Sonali’s aunt was perplexed when he saw the guard from the gate leading Jack up the corridor.

‘No, no, no.’ The steward waggled his finger. ‘He can’t come in here. Only blessed servants allowed.’

Jack understood instantly. The inner sections of a Rajthanan home were sacred and only a handful of specially chosen and ritually blessed servants were allowed in. This steward, an old Englishman with white whiskers, would know he risked losing his job if he let Jack through. Jack had been able to talk the guard into leading him this far, but the steward presented more of a challenge.

‘I’m here to visit Kumari Sonali Dalvi,’ Jack said. ‘I believe she will want to see me.’

Jack was far from certain Sonali would want to see him. She might not want to have anything to do with him. She might be embarrassed that he’d come to find her here.

The steward raised an eyebrow, looked Jack up and down and sniffed. ‘Kumari Dalvi has said nothing to me.’

‘Perhaps you could tell her I’m here. I’ll wait.’

‘She is recuperating. She has been injured. She is not to be disturbed.’

‘I’ve come a long way, sir. And I’m sure—’

‘It’s out of the question,’ the steward snapped. ‘You must leave now.’

Then a woman’s voice called down the hallway, ‘Steward? Who’s there?’

‘It’s no one, madam,’ the steward shouted back. ‘I’m getting rid of him.’

The voice called again, ‘But who is it?’

Jack recognised that voice. He was certain it was Sonali. ‘It’s me,’ he called out.

He thought he heard a gasp and then Sonali shouted, ‘Steward, bring him in here!’

The steward stiffened. He glared at Jack, his nostrils flaring, then turned on his heel and led Jack to the end of the corridor, where a door stood slightly ajar. He opened the door and admitted Jack into a room that smelt of jasmine, lotus and rose water. Light streamed in from a large set of windows that opened on to an inner courtyard garden. A brightly coloured parrot squawked in a cage hanging just outside the windows.

And lying in a bed, propped up by several pillows and brocaded cushions, was Sonali. Her hair was awry and her face was thin and gaunt. But there was a huge smile on her face and her eyes glowed.

‘You can leave us alone,’ she said to the steward.

‘Are you sure, madam?’ the steward asked.

She beamed at Jack. ‘I am.’

The steward bowed, left the chamber and eased the door shut.

Jack walked across the room and sat on a stool beside the bed. ‘How are you?’

‘Much better. They say I’ll be up and about soon.’

Jack crossed himself. ‘I wasn’t sure I should come.’

She smiled quizzically. ‘Why do you say that?’

He cleared his throat. ‘I wasn’t sure … When you were wounded you were talking a lot. You said you had difficulty … I can’t remember how you put it.’

Her eyes became tearful. ‘There’s no difficulty now. Why don’t you kiss me?’

Jack paused for a moment.

And then he leant across and kissed her on the lips.

I would like to thank my agent, Marlene Stringer, for representing me so well over the past four years, and my editor, Carolyn Caughey, for giving me the opportunity to write not only
The War of the Grail
, but the entire
Land of Hope and Glory
trilogy. Thanks also to Francine Toon and everyone at Hodder & Stoughton for all the work they have put into this book.

I am grateful to Dilraj Singh Sachdev, Mihir Wanchoo and Vandana Gombar for advice about various aspects of Indian history and culture. Thank you also to Nicole Hughes for information about battlefield injuries. I must emphasise, however, that any mistakes in the text are solely my own responsibility.

Thanks to Belinda Tobias, Simon Tobias and Edward Stone for designing and producing my website. And thanks to Gail Tatham for reading and commenting on the draft versions of all the books in the trilogy.

Finally, thank you to my family and friends, who have done so much to support and encourage me over the years. I wish I could mention everyone specifically, but the list would be very long. I hope this all-encompassing thank you will suffice.