Read The Place of Dead Kings Online
Authors: Geoffrey Wilson
Jack crossed himself.
Rao squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked down and the weapon cracked and spat smoke.
The Mar all jumped and gasped. A few cowered, while others stared up into the sky. Then they burst into applause, cheered, laughed and waved their weapons in the air. Domnall beamed and stamped his spear into the ground over and over again. Cormac smiled, his eyes shining.
Jack breathed out and said a Hail Mary in his head. He patted Rao on the shoulder. ‘Well done, Great Shee. Looks like we got away with it.’
Rao looked as if he were about to faint. ‘I feel sick.’
Jack grinned. ‘Something for your journal.’ He grabbed Cormac’s arm. ‘Now, the Place of Dead Kings.’
Cormac nodded and called across to Domnall. The Chief raised his hand to silence the crowd and then gave a short speech.
‘Chief say we all march on Place of Dead Kings,’ Cormac said. ‘Kill Demon with fire magic.’
Jack grabbed Cormac’s arm again. Christ, another problem to deal with. ‘No. We can’t do that yet. We have to scout the place out first.’
Cormac frowned.
‘We have to look at the Demon’s magic,’ Jack said, ‘so we know how to beat him. You take us first. We take a look. Then decide what to do.’
Cormac relayed this to Domnall, who nodded and spoke to the other chiefs. There was a short debate between them, but finally Cormac said, ‘Chiefs agree with plan. I take you Place of Dead Kings. With few other warriors.’
‘Good,’ Jack said. ‘Give the Chief our thanks and let’s get going.’
‘Not yet,’ Cormac said. ‘Tonight.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Day too dangerous. Many Cattans near Place of Dead Kings. We go night. Better.’
Jack sighed. Why did everything have to take so long with the Mar?
‘Makes sense,’ Rao said. ‘We don’t want to run into any trouble. Cormac seems to know what he’s talking about.’
‘How long will it take?’ Jack asked Cormac.
‘Not far. One night. That all.’
Jack nodded. He hated the idea of delaying the journey any further. But Rao was right, they couldn’t risk getting caught or killed. ‘Very well. Tonight it is, then.’
‘I
t’s getting dark.’ Rao set aside the bowl of water and the knife he’d been shaving with.
Jack, who’d been lying on the bracken bed, sat up. Through the hut’s doorway, he saw the sky was turning violet. ‘Finally.’
Rao mopped his face with a cloth and did his best to twirl the ends of his moustache. ‘So, what are we going to do when we reach the Place of Dead Kings?’
‘Been thinking about that myself. The way I see it, we’re there to get our comrades out. That’s all.’
‘I agree. That’s our main purpose. But the Mar are expecting more than that.’
‘There’s not much we can do to help them.’
‘It feels a little hard to let them down. We’ve misled them.’
‘We didn’t have a choice. We’ll get to Mahajan’s hideout and find out what’s going on. If there’s anything we can do to help the Mar, we’ll do it. But we have to get Saleem and Parihar out above all else.’
‘Agreed. I’m not sure that the Mar will think too kindly of us if we don’t fight Mahajan, though.’
‘We’ll have to deal with that problem when it comes. We might find we have to leave Mar in a hurry.’
Rao stared at the doorway. ‘Seems we face dangers in all directions.’
Jack paused. He was going to have to broach the subject of the Brahmastra – at least, up to a point. They had to know what they were going up against and Rao had Atri’s notes, which might help. But how was he going to raise the topic without revealing he was a crusader?
He picked up some bracken and twirled it around his finger. ‘Look, Rao. We have to be straight with each other about things. You agree?’
Rao frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘We have to be honest with each other about what we know about Mahajan. So we both know what we’re dealing with.’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. Glad you agree.’ Jack tightened his lips. Should he continue? ‘I . . . heard you mention something to Parihar once. When we were travelling up here. You talked about something called the Brahmastra.’
Rao’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What? How do you know about that?’
Jack held up his hand to calm Rao. ‘I just overheard you talking. I understand some Rajthani. From the army.’
Rao’s eyes narrowed. ‘What did you overhear?’
‘Not much. I just heard you use the word “Brahmastra”. I don’t know what that means. It sounds like some sort of weapon.’
Rao stroked his moustache. ‘You’re full of surprises, Jack. I don’t know what to make of you sometimes.’
‘I’m used to listening to what officers say. How do you think men in the army find anything out?’
‘I suppose that makes sense.’
‘Look, like I said, we have to trust each other. If you know something about Mahajan that could help us, you have to tell me now.’
Rao nodded slowly. ‘Fair enough. That is a reasonable request. The Brahmastra, then. I’m afraid I can’t tell you a great deal about it. As I said, I’m not from a priest jati. The odd thing is, until recently I wouldn’t have even believed the thing could be real. You see, the Brahmastra is something from myth. It’s mentioned in ancient legends, from long before Rajthanan times.’
‘But what is it?’
‘Well, the stories say it was some kind of devastating weapon. It’s said it had the power of the sun and when it was used it would destroy the land for miles around and leave it poisoned for decades afterwards. Nothing could live or grow there. It could strike down whole armies in one go and smash whole cities. No one could withstand it.’
Jack went silent. The wind whined between the cracks in the stone walls. ‘Sounds like a useful weapon to have on your side.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And a bad weapon to have used on you.’
‘Yes. Of course. It could destroy a whole people.’
‘And this thing is real?’
‘I have no idea. I find it hard to believe in it, to be honest. It’s mentioned in the legends but it’s never been heard of in recent times. If it ever existed, it was somehow forgotten or lost.’
‘But your commanders think it’s real. Otherwise they wouldn’t have sent the expedition.’
‘My commanders were as baffled about it as me. There were rumours that Mahajan was trying to build a Brahmastra. But they were – still are – nothing more than rumours. The expedition was to find out what Mahajan was up to, that’s all. I’m not sure that many people believed we really would find a Brahmastra up here in Scotland.’
‘I suppose the army wouldn’t mind getting their hands on a Brahmastra if it turned out Mahajan really did have one.’
‘That is probably true.’
Probably? Undoubtedly. The generals would be itching to have a weapon like that. The Rajthanan empire would be unstoppable. ‘What about Atri? Did he believe in the Brahmastra?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t speak to him about it much. He was very secretive about this whole mission, but that’s the way with siddhas.’
‘What about his notebook? Does he say anything about it in there?’
‘This?’ Rao took the notebook from the satchel and lifted it up. ‘I’m afraid it won’t be much help. It’s all technical notes. I can’t make head or tail of it.’
‘The secret siddha language?’
‘Yes. Well, secret is perhaps stretching it – knowledge of the language is restricted. But the main problem is it’s all so damn complicated. I understand a few of the words, but it means nothing unless you’ve done years of training.’
Was Rao telling the truth? Probably. There was no point in him withholding anything useful now. ‘What about those big sheets of paper Atri left? In the satchel?’
Rao frowned. ‘How did you know about those? Have you been going through my things?’
‘Yes, I did, actually. After we had that argument. I wanted to see if you had anything useful before I left you there.’
Rao’s moustache straightened and his eyes glinted in the dim light. ‘You had no right to do that.’
Jack thought quickly. He should try to be conciliatory for the time being. He needed to understand as much as he could about Mahajan, and Rao was the only person who could help. ‘Maybe. But I didn’t . . . know you much then. I wouldn’t do that now.’
Rao cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Well. I agree things are a little different now.’
‘So, what about those sheets? What do they mean?’
Rao sighed. ‘I don’t think they will be much help either. They’re just maps. Atri was also a surveyor, you see. His task was to map the uncharted regions as best he could.’
‘That spyglass on a stand.’
‘Yes, a surveyor’s tool.’
‘Nothing about the Brahmastra on those sheets?’
‘Nothing like that. Just standard maps. I’ve taken a look at them. You know, the usual. Mountains, rivers, towns, sattva streams.’
‘Sattva streams?’
‘Yes, those are all marked down. Useful information for prospectors. A lot of sattva up here, I’m told.’
Jack hadn’t known the Rajthanans mapped the streams. But it made sense. They would have to know where the strongest streams were in order to build their mills and set up sattva links.
But before he could mull over any of this further, Cormac appeared in the entrance, silhouetted against the fading light. He held a bow in one hand, and a quiver of arrows hung from his belt.
‘Finally,’ Jack said. ‘Are we going now?’
‘Aye,’ Cormac said. ‘First blessing from seer, then go.’
Blessing from the seer? Jack was about to protest, but Cormac was already leaving. Cursing, Jack stuck the scimitar and knife in his belt and hurried after the tall Scot. Rao scurried along beside him.
Cormac disappeared into a grove nestling in a gully on the edge of the village. Jack and Rao followed him along a track that was clearly little used as branches snagged them and undergrowth grasped their ankles.
Finally Jack caught up to Cormac. He was about to demand to be taken to the Place of Dead Kings, when Cormac gestured to a clearing ahead and said, ‘Here seer.’
Jack stared into the shadowy glade. In the centre stood a hut that was so dilapidated it appeared to be no more than a pile of stones. But the fresh green turf on the roof and a line of smoke escaping from the smoke-hole showed the building was inhabited.
Cormac led them across to the hut. The door slid to the side and light spilt out into the dark. The seer stood in the doorway, blinking at them, her wild grey hair coiling about her head. She grunted and gestured for them to enter.
Jack stooped and found himself in a cramped room. The walls and ceiling were so poorly constructed he might as well have been in a cave. Strange mobiles, made of animal bones and metal charms, hung from the ceiling and he had to keep ducking to avoid them. A peat fire flickered in the centre of the chamber and the acrid smoke hazed the interior. All about the walls stood stone cairns, on top of which were odd assortments of objects: worn river-stones, bones, feathers and coloured threads. Atop the largest cairn stood a simple stone cross, engraved with knotted Celtic designs, and below this a wooden female figurine.
The seer hobbled over to the cairn, dipped her finger in a bowl of what appeared to be milk and smeared this on the feet of the figurine.
Cormac pointed at the statue. ‘This St Brigit. Will help seeing.’
‘Seeing?’ Jack asked.
Cormac nodded at the old woman. ‘Watch.’
The seer, still facing the cairn, began swaying and chanting. At intervals she stopped and crossed herself, then returned to her singing. Finally, she began shuffling in a circle about the fire. Rao had to move out of her way. She continued chanting, shut her eyes and repeatedly crossed herself.
Then she gave a sudden shout and slipped to the ground. Jack went to run to her aid, but Cormac held him back and shook his head.
The seer writhed on the ground, foam spilling from her mouth, her eyes opening and rolling white. She gave a series of unnatural groans and muttered what might have been Gaalic words, although they sounded more like animal cries than human speech.
‘Shiva,’ Rao whispered.
After around two minutes, the seer lay still on the ground, blinked a few times and wiped the drool from her chin. She struggled to clamber back to her feet until Cormac went to her side and helped her up. She limped across to a flat stone and sat on it.
She stared at Rao, her eyes glazed, and spoke in Gaalic.
Cormac grinned. ‘It is good. Seer say she see many things. Good things. Great Shee with magic from God will fight Demon and throw back in hell. Free these lands.’
‘Yes, well.’ Rao shuffled awkwardly and rubbed his moustache. ‘I’m sure we’ll all do our best.’
The seer stood and gestured with her hand for Jack and Rao to approach. They walked over and she pointed at a stack of stones that reached to the height of her chest. On top of the stones lay what Jack at first thought was a battered cardboard box, until he came close enough to see it was an ancient book.
A book? What was a book doing here?
The seer touched the worn cover with her hand, shut her eyes and breathed deeply. She opened the tome, revealing yellow pages that were worn and warped. The black writing was smeared, the letters bleeding into each other. The illuminated pictures were losing their colour and the detail was blurred.