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Authors: Geoffrey Wilson

The Place of Dead Kings (29 page)

BOOK: The Place of Dead Kings
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Christ. The Captain was walking so slowly. It would be dark by the time they reached the hills at this rate.

Finally, Rao caught up and Jack noticed that his eyes had a blank look and he gazed about him as if he couldn’t understand where he was.

‘You all right?’ Jack shouted.

Rao started, as if he’d just noticed Jack, then seemed to become more alert. ‘Fine, yes. Just cold.’

Jack led the way forward again into the lashing wind. After ten minutes, Rao cried out and Jack spun round to see the Captain lying on his side. Jack waded back and crouched down.

‘Just fell.’ Rao gasped and raised himself on his arm. ‘I’m all right.’

But Rao looked pale and his teeth were chattering so loudly Jack could hear them.

Jack didn’t like the look of this. He’d seen men die from the cold several times when he was in the army. It came in stages. A man would become delirious, lose all his strength and even will to continue. Then he would fall unconscious and eventually slip away.

Jack scoured the surroundings. He had to find shelter for Rao. Now.

He spied a wide, twisted oak with roots that formed a series of hollows at its base. That was the best place on offer at the moment.

‘Come on.’ Jack offered Rao his hand. ‘Not far now.’

He heaved Rao up and supported him as they limped over to the oak. He eased the Captain down in the lee of the tree, where he was protected from the worst of the storm. Rao’s eyes closed and his head lolled to the side. Jack slapped him in the face a few times and his eyelids half opened.

‘You stay here,’ Jack shouted. ‘I’m going to build a shelter.’

Rao didn’t respond, but he held his head straight at least and didn’t close his eyes.

Jack stumbled out into the blizzard, searching the ground for branches. The gale pulled at his tunic, flicked snow in his eyes and moaned in his ears. He spotted two large branches leaning against a rock, picked them up, then saw a further branch half split off from a birch and floundered across to it. He wrenched the branch free, turned and then jumped slightly when he saw a wolf standing about ten feet away. It had appeared so suddenly it was like something from a dream. Its grey-white fur rippled in the wind and it stared at Jack with yellow eyes.

Jack kept his eyes locked on the beast as his hand crept towards the pistol.

But then the wolf turned and padded away into the reeling snowflakes.

Jack breathed out. But he didn’t wait around any longer. If the wolves were becoming less wary, Rao could be in danger.

He waded back towards the oak and made out the Captain still hunched between the tree roots. The pale form of a wolf prowled up and down around twenty feet away from the prone Rajthanan.

No.

Jack tried to run, but the snow dragged at his legs. He surged forward, shouting in an attempt to wake Rao.

The wolf crept closer to the Captain. Another loped out of the white murk and sat watching.

Jack dropped the branches, wrenched out his pistol and fired into the air. The loud crack cut through the wind. Both wolves jolted and sprinted off into the woods.

He scooped up the branches and trudged forward again. He heard a growl to his left, spun round and saw another wolf stalking him. He fired at the creature. But this time the pistol spluttered, crackled and kicked hard in his hand. All the bullets shot out at once.

Christ. A chain fire. Despite their benefits, rotary pistols were prone to accidents.

He’d missed the wolf, but it slunk off anyway. Turning back, he saw the two wolves circling Rao again. But there were no bullets left in his pistol, and no time to reload.

Damn it.

He shouted, dropped the branches and tried to rush forward.

Then he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he swivelled and saw a wolf bounding straight at him.

Everything seemed to slow down. He saw the creature flying silently and gracefully across the snow, its eyes fixed on him. It leapt and sailed in his direction. He could see its nose and fangs in great detail. He dropped the pistol and reached for the scimitar.

But he was too slow.

The wolf smacked into his chest with more force than he’d thought possible. He flew backwards and smashed into the snow.

The wolf thumped down on top of him.

It paused for a second, then opened its jaws, snarled and lunged at his face.

16

J
ack cried out, swung his arm and smacked the wolf in the head. The beast’s maw was knocked to the side for a moment, but it immediately forced its jaws straight back towards him.

His heart bashed in his ears.

He grasped the wolf’s matted fur and tried to drive its mouth away again. But the creature was strong. He felt its neck and shoulder muscles rippling beneath his hands.

There was only one possible outcome to this struggle.

His only hope was to get the knife out of his belt, but that would mean letting go of the beast’s head with one hand at least.

Would he be able to stab the wolf before it could rip his face off?

Sweat streamed across his forehead. He stared straight into the creature’s mouth. Strings of saliva stretched between its fangs and its hot, stale breath blasted his nostrils. His arms screamed at the strain of forcing the creature back.

He couldn’t hold on for much longer. He had to do it now.

He released his right hand, grasped at his belt and ripped out the knife.

The wolf lurched forward and its teeth pressed against his cheek. The reek of its breath was overwhelming.

He slammed the knife up into the creature’s belly and felt hot blood splash over his hand. The wolf yelped and jerked its head back. He drove the knife up again, and then a third time.

The creature gave a high-pitched squeal and rolled off him. It tried to flee, but its back legs gave way and it was forced to drag itself along, smearing bright blood on the snow.

Heart still crashing in his ribs, Jack sprang to his knees and saw the two wolves still skulking close to Rao.


No!
’ he shouted.

He scrambled across to the Captain. His sudden movement startled the wolves and they backed away. But soon they came prowling back.

Rao’s eyes were closed and his lips were blue, but his chest was going up and down.

Thank Christ he was still alive.

A pistol. Jack needed a pistol right now. The wolves were mere feet away.

He shoved his hand under Rao’s coat and hunted around for the holster. His fingers were so numb he could barely feel anything.

Christ. It was taking too long. He wasn’t going to find the damn thing.

Then his fingers touched metal. He ripped out the pistol, swung round and pulled the trigger, praying the weapon would fire. The hammer smacked down and the pistol spat smoke and flame. He missed both wolves, but they both shot off into the trees immediately.

But for how long? He had to get a fire started quickly. That was the only way to keep the animals at bay.

And keep Rao alive.

He shook the Captain, but got no reaction. He slapped Rao in the face until finally he opened one eye slightly. Rao’s eyeball shifted around, as if he were drunk.

‘Hold on,’ Jack said. ‘Don’t fall asleep. You understand? Don’t fall asleep!’

Jack’s eyes burnt with tiredness. He hadn’t slept for hours and had no idea how late it was. Perhaps it was after midnight, perhaps later. But he wouldn’t let himself rest. He had to keep an eye on the wolves still creeping out in the shadows, and he had to keep tending the fire. If it went out, the beasts were sure to advance again.

A trickle of dirt fell on his head. He glanced up, but saw that the bivouac he’d cobbled together from branches, twigs, damp leaves and earth was still holding and retaining most of the heat from the fire at the entrance.

Rao lay against the tree, right beside the flames. Jack had wrapped him in both of the blankets. The colour had come back to his face and his lips were no longer blue. But he’d been sleeping for a long time.

Jack reached across and touched Rao’s cheek. It was no longer icy cold – a good sign.

The Captain groaned and his eyes crept open. Another good sign. Maybe he would survive after all.

Rao looked around blearily and finally focused on Jack. ‘Ah. You’re still here.’

‘You think I’d leave you?’

Rao swallowed. ‘I don’t remember . . . Where are we?’

‘You fell. I made camp for the night. You were too weak to go on.’

‘Ah.’ Rao edged his head around and stared at the fire. ‘I had a strange dream.’

Jack grinned. ‘You were lost in Scotland?’

Rao managed a weak smile. He shut his eyes and struggled to summon the strength to continue.

‘You should rest,’ Jack said.

Rao opened his eyes again. ‘No . . . In my dream I was back in Rajthana. I’d never left. Never come to Europe.’ He turned to look at Jack again. ‘But you were there.’

‘Me?’ Jack snorted. ‘In Rajthana?’

‘Yes, you were there. And you’d come to tell me something. That my father had forgiven me . . . Isn’t that strange?’

‘You were delirious. The cold gets to you like that.’

‘Jack, can you do something for me?’

‘What?’

‘If I don’t make it, can you get a message to the barracks at Dun Fries.’

‘You
are
going to make it.’

‘But if I don’t. Will you promise?’

‘There’s no need—’

‘I beg you.’

Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead. Rao seemed confused. Maybe he hadn’t recovered much after all. ‘Very well. I promise.’

Rao shut his eyes. ‘Good. Tell them at Dun Fries to write to my father to tell him that I died trying my best to make him proud. To atone for what I did.’

Atone? What for? Jack was curious, but knew this was hardly the time to ask further. He put his hand on Rao’s shoulder. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘And . . . write to Kumari Reena Chamar. Tell her that I . . . always loved her.’ Rao grimaced as if in pain and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

‘You need to rest now.’

Rao sighed and went limp.

Christ. Was he dead?

But then Jack saw the Captain’s chest was rising and falling. He was only sleeping.

With any luck, he was dreaming pleasantly of Kumari Chamar.

Birds chirped high in the trees and sunlight washed through the branches. The snow shone as if it were polished.

Jack trudged, slipped and skidded through the swollen drifts. The sky was sharp blue, with only a few puffs of cloud, the storm having spent itself during the night.

He stopped for a second in a shaft of light, revelling in the warmth on his skin. He hadn’t slept at all – he’d had to stay awake to guard Rao. It had been a bad night, but it looked as though the Captain would pull through.

He pressed on, his arms about a clump of wood. He hadn’t dared go far from the fire during the night, but now that it was morning he felt confident enough to venture a little further.

The old oak and the bivouac appeared ahead. He halted in surprise.

Rao was standing with his hands on his hips, stretching his back. He grinned. ‘There you are.’

‘You’re looking better.’ Jack plodded over to the shelter and dumped the firewood.

BOOK: The Place of Dead Kings
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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