The Place of Dead Kings (36 page)

The day was overcast and the light milky. A dry wind whipped down from the mountains and tugged at Jack’s tunic. Many of the Mar were rushing about with anxious looks on their faces, all happiness from the night before gone. The bonfire in the centre of the village had died to a black smear.

Jack jogged to keep up with Cormac’s huge strides. ‘Where are you taking us?’

‘Must hide.’ Cormac didn’t turn his head. ‘Cattans bad men.’

They reached the perimeter of the village, jogged up the side of the shallow bowl and entered a stand of trees. Most of the snow had melted, leaving only a few patches in the deepest shade.

A cry went up behind Jack. He turned and saw many of the Mar gathering in the village centre and pointing up a hill. He stared and saw a party of around thirty Cattans weaving their way down the slope.

‘Quick.’ Cormac gestured to a patch of brambles. ‘Here.’

It was a poor hiding place, but there seemed to be nothing else nearby. The three of them squatted down as low as they could.

The Cattans reached the bottom of the incline and strode into the village. They wore the typical heavy cloaks of the savages, but the sign of the white skull was sewn on to their tunics. Most of them carried spears and bows, but a few had longswords swinging at their waists.

Chief Domnall stood in front of his people. Eva and four other young women stood immediately behind him.

‘Those Chief daughters,’ Cormac explained. ‘Chief have no son. Wife dead. Very sad.’

The village dogs had been tied up, but they barked wildly and strained at their leads.

The Cattans came to a halt and one man, who appeared to be the leader, stepped forward. He wore a chain-mail shirt and a round steel helmet. A sword glinted at his side. He barked a few words and Domnall replied in a clear, calm voice. Whatever the Chief said, it seemed to displease the Cattan because he shouted even more loudly. The Chief then gestured to a few of his men, who disappeared behind a hut and returned with ten cattle, which they led over to the Cattans.

‘Tribute?’ Jack asked Cormac.

Cormac clenched his teeth. His eyes burnt as he stared at the unfolding scene. ‘Aye. Cattans come often. Take food.’

The Cattan leader nodded approvingly at the cattle, then pointed to a young Mar woman standing in the front row of the gathering.

A murmur ran through the crowd. The woman cried out and began sobbing. Chief Domnall’s face turned red and he lambasted the Cattan. But the man ignored him and clicked his fingers. Two of his men rushed over and grabbed the woman, who screamed and tried to fight them off. One Mar warrior leapt to her defence, but a Cattan punched him in the face and he fell back. The rest of the Mar waved their fists and shouted at the Cattans.

The Cattans drew their swords and pointed their spears at the crowd. The two men hauled the struggling woman over to their leader. The Mar appeared to be on the verge of rushing at the Cattans but managed to restrain themselves.

The leader swept his cloak about him and led his men back out of the village. Several Cattans herded the cattle, while one man shoved the young woman forward and then dragged her along by the hair. Her cries sailed across the valley.

Rao shivered. ‘The brutes.’

Cormac glared at the departing warriors. He’d gripped a piece of the bramble bush so tightly the thorns had dug into his skin and blood oozed out from between his fingers.

‘Where will they take her?’ Jack asked.

Cormac was silent for a long time. ‘They take her Place of Dead Kings.’ He looked down, unable to speak for a moment. ‘Do bad things.’

Jack put his hand on the tall man’s shoulder. ‘We’ll do what we can to help. But you have to take us to the Place of Dead Kings now.’

Cormac nodded. ‘Take you. Soon. We prepare first.’

Jack sat cross-legged on the bed in the hut, breathing deeply and letting his mind drift gently towards the spirit realm without entering the trance completely. Thoughts spiralled through his head, but he let them come and go without judging them. Elizabeth was there, as always, and Katelin on her deathbed. He saw Jhala at the battle of Ragusa and Saleem in the hands of the savages.

Saleem. He prayed the boy was alive. He wouldn’t forgive himself if the lad died.

He heard Rao scratching in his notebook. It was strange that the Captain had decided to document the lives of the Mar, but it reminded Jack a little of Jhala, who’d had a huge library and read extensively about the customs and history of the English. But Jhala had been born in England, although he’d been sent back to Rajthana for his education. This was Rao’s first visit to Britain. It was surprising he was taking such an interest.

Jack opened his eyes. How long had they been waiting for Cormac? They needed to get moving now. He was about to crawl outside to gauge the time from the sun, when he thought he might as well ask Rao instead. ‘What time is it?’

Rao studied his watch. ‘Eleven o’clock.’

‘We’ve been waiting for an hour now. I’m going to find Cormac.’

Jack stooped and left the hut, but then saw Cormac jogging across to him. In the distance, he heard the eerie wail of pipes.

‘Come now,’ Cormac said.

‘We’re going to the Place of Dead Kings?’

‘Not yet.’

Jack felt a twinge of irritation. How much more time were they going to waste? ‘Listen, we have to go now.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Rao ducked out of the hut. ‘I command it.’

Cormac bowed his head slightly. ‘Forgive me, oh Great Shee. But chiefs come. Many chiefs. They help.’

‘Help with what?’ Jack asked.

‘Come.’ Cormac tugged at Rao’s sleeve. ‘You see.’

More pipes squealed and droned. The sounds were drifting from different directions, some close, some further off in the hills.

Jack felt a quiver of anxiety. He remembered hearing the unearthly wailing for the first time, when savages attacked the expedition. But he and Rao didn’t seem to be in any danger at the moment.

They followed Cormac to the centre of the village. Domnall stood outside his hut, holding his spear. Beside him were the wizened seer, Eva and her sisters, and several Mar warriors. The Chief bowed his head in acknowledgement to Rao, but remained standing where he was.

A procession of ten Mar men, whom Jack didn’t recognise, appeared from the trees and filed down into the village. At their head strode a piper blowing a set of bagpipes. Jack recognised the instrument – he’d seen a few in the north of England, although they’d been much smaller and made less of a din. The warriors marched into the centre of the village, the piper stopped playing and an elderly man limped forward, supporting himself with a staff.

‘This chief from valley over hill,’ Cormac said to Jack and Rao.

Domnall and the visiting chief exchanged greetings and the seer performed her ritual of shuffling about the new arrivals three times. The visitors then seated themselves around the edge of the village centre.

More pipes wailed and a further party arrived from another village, also led by a chief. After them came further groups, ten in all, representing, Cormac explained, most of the villages in the immediate vicinity. Each party was welcomed by Domnall and the seer before sitting down with the others in a wide circle.

Finally, the pipes fell silent and the gathering was complete. Domnall, spear still in one hand, addressed the assembled Mar. Finally, he gestured to Rao.

‘Chief asks if you can step forward, Great Shee,’ Cormac said.

Rao shot a nervous look at Jack, then took a few paces into the middle of the group. Most of the Mar appeared not to have noticed him so far and a murmur flickered around the circle. Many crossed themselves and some bowed their heads.

Rao rubbed his moustache furiously and fidgeted. He was hardly acting like the Great Shee.

Jack walked across to him and whispered, ‘Relax. Look confident.’

‘Confident?’ Rao hissed. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’

Cormac stood beside Rao and translated as Domnall told the other chiefs how the Great Shee had appeared to them in their time of need.

Several chiefs spoke. Domnall replied to them and then turned and spoke to Rao.

‘Chief says all chiefs honoured to meet Great Shee with brown skin and magic that can see far,’ Cormac said. ‘Chiefs say they all live in fear of Cattans and Demon. Sometimes no food. Much suffering. Demon has strong black magic. Has weapons that breathe fire.

‘Many say that one will come who also has brown skin. But will be good shee, not demon. This shee will fight Demon and free Mar. Now they ask, is Great Shee the one they wait for?’

Rao gave a small cough, leant in close to Jack and said, ‘Fight the Demon? What on earth am I going to say now?’

Jack thought quickly. ‘Best play along.’

‘I can’t do that. We can’t fight Mahajan. These savages will soon work that out.’

‘Look, we have to get to Mahajan’s hideout. Cormac’s said he’ll take us there. Just tell them what they want to hear and then let’s get out of here.’

Rao cleared his throat, straightened his tunic and said to Cormac, ‘Tell the Chief I and my assistant will do what we can to help.’

Cormac straightened his shoulders and his eyes went moist. He gave a deep bow. ‘I pray for this day for long time. I thank God he send you, oh Great Shee. I follow where you lead. Even to death.’ Cormac raised his head again and gave Domnall the shee’s message.

A firm smile stretched across Domnall’s lips and he stamped his spear in the ground several times. The Mar warriors spoke excitedly amongst themselves. Jack heard the words ‘Captain Rao’ said repeatedly.

Domnall spoke again to Rao, and Cormac translated. ‘Chief asks if you have great magic like Demon. Have fire weapons to fight Demon?’

Rao shot a look at Jack. ‘We’ve only got two pistols and no ammunition.’

Jack was well aware of that. ‘Just tell them yes.’

Rao tightened his lips and his eyes flashed, but he turned back to Cormac. ‘Yes, I have great magic and fire weapons.’

When Cormac explained this to Domnall, the Chief smiled broadly and many of the Mar warriors cheered and clapped. Several stood now and addressed the assembly in loud voices, shaking their spears.

When the men had calmed down a little, Domnall, through Cormac, said to Rao, ‘We are overjoyed Great Shee has come to fight Demon. We will follow. All fight to death to free lands. We only ask if Great Shee can show fire magic. We long to see. It give joy to heart.’

Rao paled and hissed at Jack, ‘We’ve got no bullets. We’ve got nothing to fire.’

Jack’s mind raced. He looked at the circle of savages staring expectantly at them. How were they going to get out of this? ‘Cormac, the Great Shee is weary. He will show magic that sees far. Fire magic another day.’

Cormac frowned and looked at Rao.

‘Er, yes, that’s right,’ Rao said. ‘Fire magic another time.’

Cormac told this news to Domnall. The smile slipped from the Chief’s face and he replied to Cormac in a slightly sharper tone.

‘Chief asks if Great Shee will not think again,’ Cormac said. ‘Of course, is decision of Great Shee, but will bring much joy to see fire magic. Chief ask as very great favour of shee with brown skin.’

Jack’s heart beat a little faster. The Mar had welcomed him and Rao so warmly he’d forgotten to be afraid of them. But now he stared at the stern faces of the warriors, many of whom were gripping their spears.

Christ. He and Rao were in a tight spot.

Then he had an idea. ‘Cormac, tell them to wait a moment. I’ll fetch the fire magic of the Great Shee.’

‘What are you doing?’ Rao’s face was drawn and his eyes wide.

‘Calm down,’ Jack said. ‘Stay here.’

He ran back to the hut, hearing the Mar muttering amongst themselves behind him. He ducked through the doorway, wrenched open the knapsack and pulled out one of the pistols. He gazed at the swirling designs engraved on the weapon’s brass side plate.

His plan had better work.

He took out the flask, poured powder into the measuring charger and then emptied this into one of the pistol’s barrels. He placed a greased patch of cloth over the muzzle and rammed this down with the rod to hold the powder in place. Then he pressed a cap on to the loaded barrel’s nipple.

‘You’d bloody better fire.’ He kissed the pistol. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if it misfired.

He rushed back to the assembly, where most of the warriors were now standing and appearing to argue with one another. Cormac’s brow was knitting and he was glancing repeatedly between Rao and the other Mar.

Jack drew up beside Rao and handed him the pistol.

Rao’s face lit up. ‘You found a bullet?’

‘No. Just packed it with powder.’

Rao’s mouth drooped. ‘No bullet? What good is that?’

‘Just fire it. It’ll make a noise. Hopefully that’ll do.’

‘And what if it doesn’t do?’

‘Just get on with it.’

Rao turned to face the crowd and pointed the pistol at the sky. In a clear voice he said, ‘Listen. I will demonstrate the fire magic of the Great Shee.’

Cormac didn’t even need to translate. The Mar fell suddenly silent and stared at Rao.