The Place of Dead Kings (51 page)

He was about to pull the trigger, when the head changed course, swung upwards again and looped away behind the castle, giving a final shriek as it vanished.

Cormac’s eyes were wide and his jaw clenched.

‘Come on.’ Jack lowered the musket. ‘We have to keep going.’

Cormac nodded and shouted the command to the Mar. But he kept his eyes trained on the sky as they jogged along.

Jack glanced up a couple of times himself. How dangerous was the skull? Was it a toy to scare the natives or something more powerful? He tried to put these thoughts out of his head as he ran. He had a feeling he was going to find out the answers soon anyway.

He reached the corner where the castle’s rear and side walls met. As he turned, he saw the blurred outline of a column of Cattans charging along the ramparts towards him. Someone must have alerted them to the struggle on the rear wall. He stared into the mist. He couldn’t gauge the size of the party, but he and his men had to get through the Cattans regardless of how many of them there were.

He took his musket from his shoulder and held it at his side as he ran forward. Cormac loped beside him and the other Mar padded behind.

The party of guards became clearer – there were no more than fifty of them. When they were about sixty yards away, Jack stopped and raised the musket. He only had one bullet, but perhaps a single shot would be enough to startle them and drive them back.

Before he could fire, Cormac grabbed his sleeve and shouted, ‘Down!’

Jack squatted with Cormac. He didn’t know why at first, but then saw five of the Mar running up from behind with their spears. They skidded to a halt just short of him and hurled their weapons, which corkscrewed through the mist and plunged into the group of Cattans. One smacked a guard in the chest and bowled him over. Another impaled a man in the head and knocked him off the wall.

The Cattans slowed. A few drew their bows and nocked arrows. Meanwhile a second wave of Mar charged up behind Jack and flung their spears. The missiles plummeted at the Cattans and several more men jolted and fell.

Two Cattans fired arrows, but the shots were poor and the missiles sailed past far overhead.

‘Now.’ Cormac stood, bellowed a war cry and sprinted towards the Cattans, holding aloft his longsword.

Jack leapt up, released the musket’s knife and followed, shouting so loudly his throat ached. He heard the Mar cheering as they ran behind him.

The remaining Cattans faltered. They would be unable to see their foe clearly and might believe they were facing more men than they actually were.

Jack shouted more loudly. Cormac lifted his sword high above his head.

A few of the Cattans turned and bolted back the way they’d come. Seeing this, the others followed.

Jack and Cormac ran side by side, shouting until they were hoarse. The Cattans didn’t pause or regroup and instead sprinted on towards the front of the castle. The buildings streaked past to Jack’s right, the sound of the guns vibrated through his boots and the mist ahead glowed with gunfire. Luminous ash floated everywhere. He reached the tower where he’d hidden overnight in the storeroom, and now the central inner bailey opened up beneath him. He caught a glimpse of the circle of paving stones in the centre of the bailey and the iron, claw-like protuberances rising periodically from the surrounding walls.

The guns that had previously been stationed along this section of the ramparts had been removed. And still no guards came to oppose him and Cormac. And still the Cattans ahead kept fleeing.

It was all too easy.

Then pain fractured his chest. Darkness closed over him. He gritted his teeth, stumbled, tried to continue and collapsed to his knees. Cormac skidded to a halt and came loping back, while the other Mar clustered around him.

The worst of the pain drained away and Jack managed to stand again. ‘I’m all right.’

‘Wounded?’ Cormac asked.

Jack shook his head. ‘Forget it. Let’s get moving.’

Several warriors pointed up and cried out. When Jack squinted into the sky, he saw the skull was orbiting above them once again. The creature exhaled a globe of fire, which quickly dwindled to black smoke that trailed behind it like drool. It screamed as it roared past, this time flying low enough for Jack to catch the scent of coal and sattva wafting from it. The beast vanished into the mist again as it headed towards the front of the castle.

Jack was strong enough now to continue, and he and Cormac led the way along the wall. They passed more of the giant metal prongs and came to the edge of the bailey. The wall that separated the inner and outer baileys ran off to Jack’s right, further metal spikes rising from it at regular intervals. Beyond the wall, he could see the wooden platform and the open space where he’d stood with the other worshippers more than a week ago. The thick pipes squirming over the stonework wheezed. A few Cattans scurried across the ground, but most were up on the walls.

Ahead along the ramparts, spectral in the mist, scores of Cattans laboured over the artillery, sponging the bores, heaving balls into the muzzles and firing. Someone had trained them well and they showed no fear of the ‘fire weapons’. The guns bucked, and flame and smoke spewed from the serpent-headed pieces.

Between the guns, banks of Cattans stood firing their muskets over the wall, thick smoke billowing about them and merging with the fog.

And beyond the wall Jack noticed a suggestion of movement. He stopped and stared. Through the fog he made out the outline of thousands of figures – Rao’s forces. They’d reached the castle walls, but had clearly found it impossible so far to either batter down the gates or scale the battlements. If they couldn’t do either, they would soon be slaughtered. They were easy targets on the hill and hundreds must have already been slain.

Arrows flickered up from the ground and flew over the castle walls. But otherwise Rao’s men had no way of returning fire against their opponents.

Cormac and the other Mar were shouting and pointing. At first Jack thought the skull must be returning, but then he saw what had caught their eyes. On the far side of the bailey, a figure stood balancing on top of the battlements, facing out towards the attackers with his arms raised to the heavens.

Jack stared harder. The figure wore a cloak and held a staff in one hand. Arrows stormed about him, but he showed no fear. Occasionally a missile struck, but each time a bronze mantle flashed about him and the arrow bounced away.

Mahajan.

‘Demon.’ Cormac crossed himself.

The other Mar hissed and muttered prayers.

And now the siddha swung one arm in a circle a few times, pointed at the sky and flung his arm towards the enemy beyond the gates, as if he were hurling something.

A deep groan crossed the sky. The air shivered and the walls vibrated so much that Jack’s teeth buzzed. The skull loomed out of the fog like a metal moon and hovered for a moment above the castle. It grated open its maw and gave a screech that made the hair stand up on the back of Jack’s neck.

Then the beast dived towards Rao’s men. It opened its jaw wider, bellowed and blasted fire from its mouth and eyes. The flames spewed over the ground, tossing up chunks of earth and what Jack was certain were charred bodies.

The skull shot up into the sky again and circled away into the mist. No doubt it would soon be back.

Christ. The beast would decimate Rao’s forces.

But Jack had little time to reflect on this. A musket cracked nearby and he heard the whine of a bullet even over the growl of the guns. A handful of guards along the closest section of the outer wall were pointing their muskets at Jack and his men. The fleeing Cattans must have alerted them to the presence of attackers. The muskets coughed, white smoke blossomed and balls whistled through the mist.

‘Down here!’ Jack leapt behind the battlements that ran along the dividing wall. Thankfully the ramparts had been designed to defend against a force that made it through the main gate and as far as the outer bailey.

Cormac and the others ducked down in a line beside Jack.

The muskets popped again and bullets screamed against the parapet, chipping off fragments and puffing up dust. A few arrows fluttered past, as if pursuing the musket balls.

Christ. What now?

He inched his head around the side of the parapet and looked along the top of the outer wall. Through the streams of mist, he made out the Cattans. They were raising their muskets and bows to fire again. But soon they would realise how few men Jack had with him. Then they were bound to charge along the wall and attack. That would be the end – there was no chance of Jack’s small band defeating such a large number of opponents.

‘We fight?’ Cormac asked.

‘Not sure,’ Jack shouted back.

He raised his head over the battlements and Cormac joined him. Mahajan still stood on the ramparts with his hands raised, his shield blinking bronze occasionally and flicking away arrows. Shimmering ash hovered about him. He swung one arm around again and the black skull leered out of the clouds. The creature groaned, plummeted towards the Mar and scorched the ground with its fiery breath.

Muskets spluttered again, and Jack and Cormac ducked down as the bullets whistled past. An arrow threaded through an embrasure, hissed past close to Jack’s face and shot down into the bailey below.

The guns still thundered and the booms quivered through the stone behind Jack’s back.

Pain welled in Jack’s chest and darkness clouded his eyes. He shut his eyelids for a second and gritted his teeth against the burning sensation.

As the worst of the pain receded, he opened his eyes to see Cormac staring at him with a grave look on his face.

‘I’m all right,’ Jack said hurriedly. He adjusted his position, wincing slightly. ‘We have to stop the Demon somehow. We can’t get to the guns at the moment. But if we kill their leader the Cattans might lose heart.’

‘Great Shee will fight Demon,’ Cormac said.

‘The Great Shee’s magic doesn’t seem to be working so well at the moment,’ Jack muttered.

‘I know what to do.’

Jack jumped at the voice suddenly speaking behind him. He swivelled and jolted when he saw Sonali crouching on the walkway.

Sonali? Christ. What was she doing here?

She’d run up somehow without him noticing. She wore a green sari, gathered into pantaloons, and red and gold slippers. Numerous bangles sparkled on her wrists.

The torc still clutched her neck. She was still under Mahajan’s power.

‘What?’ Jack spluttered. ‘How?’

Her brow knitted. ‘There’s no time to explain. You have to do as I say.’

Musket balls rattled against the masonry overhead.

‘What are you talking about?’ Jack shouted.

‘Killing Mahajan,’ Sonali said. ‘I’m talking about killing Mahajan.’

A
blast of gunfire lit up Sonali’s face for a moment. She raised her hand and pushed back a loose strand of black hair.

Darkness frosted the corners of Jack’s eyes. Pain clutched his chest again and he clenched his fist as he fought to overcome it.

Sonali was like a strange vision. She’d appeared out of nowhere and seemed to be talking about things that were impossible. Was she mad? Was she trying to trick him?

Was he even seeing things?

‘A shee.’ Cormac’s mouth hung open and he bowed his head in Sonali’s direction.

The rest of the Mar gazed in awe at the brown-skinned, magical woman.

‘Come with me,’ Sonali said to Jack.

She went to move, but Jack grasped her arm.

‘Hold on,’ Jack said. ‘What’s going on?’

She frowned and shook away his hand. ‘Listen to me. I’m a siddha.’

‘What?’

‘A perfected one. A yogin.’

‘I know what a siddha is. How can you be one?’

‘Mahajan trained me.’

‘Mahajan?’

‘Yes, and I know how we can kill him. But you need to help me.’

‘How?’

‘I’ve learnt the Lightning yantra.’

Jack’s mind flickered. A war yantra. Kanvar had shown it to the pupils in the House of Sorcery. ‘I’ve heard of it.’

‘I’ll attack Mahajan with it.’

‘What about his shield?’

‘The shield will stop the lightning. But then it’ll vanish for a second. Mahajan will be able to rebuild it, but for a second he’ll be exposed.’

‘What good’s that?’

‘You can shoot him. With that.’ She tapped the musket. ‘Can you shoot straight?’

‘Christ. I can try.’

Should he believe Sonali? What else could he do?

He waited until a wave of bullets spattered the ramparts, then peered over the edge. Mahajan still stood atop the battlements, swinging his arm to command the skull. How far away was he? Jack tried to gauge the distance. It looked like more than a hundred yards. A musket could shoot that far, but it was hardly accurate. A knife-musket was a weapon for standing in line with your comrades and battering the enemy with round after round. You needed a rifled firearm if you were going to pick off targets at a distance.

He slid back down. ‘Let’s go over there. In the middle.’ He pointed along the dividing wall. ‘We’ll be closer to Mahajan there.’