The Place of Dead Kings (42 page)

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Authors: Geoffrey Wilson

BOOK: The Place of Dead Kings
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J
ack frowned. What was an Indian woman doing out here in the wilds of Scotland?

She wore a red shawl and a green sari that was gathered between her legs to form a pair of loose pantaloons. Earrings glinted in both her ears and a thin golden torc circled her neck. Bangles encrusted her wrists and tinkled as she moved. It was hard to tell her age, but Jack thought she was perhaps in her thirties.

She shook slightly as she huddled near the floor. Her eyes, edged by dark eyeliner, were wide and glassy.

Jack held up his hand and said in Rajthani, ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

She opened her mouth.

Was she going to scream?

‘No.’ Jack pressed his finger to his lips. ‘Please. I won’t harm you. I promise.’

She stared at him and chewed her bottom lip. She shot a look at the doors to the balcony, as if she were going to run there. But instead she looked back at Jack. ‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing. I’m just leaving.’ He glanced around for an exit. A series of cane lattice screens blocked his view of the far side of the room. He couldn’t see a door anywhere, couldn’t even tell how large the chamber was.

He heard a scrape and then footsteps coming from somewhere behind the screens.

‘Here.’ The woman opened the door of an ornate wardrobe.

He was stunned for a moment. What? Was she trying to help him? Why?

‘They’ll see you,’ the woman said. ‘Quick.’

He had to trust her. He couldn’t see a way out of the room and there was no point running back to the balcony – once there, he would be cornered.

He slipped into the wardrobe and pressed himself between a row of perfumed saris, shawls and jackets. The woman shut the door and he peered out through a decorative lattice panel. His arm still throbbed where he’d struck it, but it didn’t seem badly injured.

A Scottish woman scurried into the room, pressed her hands together, bowed and said, ‘Namaste.’ She wore the typical ankle-length tunic of the savages, but it was finely sewn and spotlessly clean. Her hair was surprisingly clean too and tied back in a ponytail.

‘What is it?’ the Rajthanan woman asked.

‘They think there’s an intruder in the castle, madam.’ The Scot spoke Rajthani well but with a thick accent.

‘Really?’ The woman stared out at the balcony. As she did this, Jack noticed an iron chain secured to her ankle. His eyes followed the chain and found the point where it was bolted to the wall.

The woman was a captive.

‘We’d best shut these, madam.’ The Scot closed the balcony doors and pulled across the latch.

‘I don’t think anyone will get in through there.’

‘Yes, madam. But the guard told me to. Just in case.’

‘Who is this intruder?’

‘Don’t know. The guard said some strange man was seen near here.’

‘A strange man?’ The woman gave a wry smile. ‘I’ll look out for him.’

‘Yes, madam. They’ve put a few guards outside your door for the time being.’ The Scot bowed and shuffled away through the gaps between the screens. A few seconds later a door scraped open and then closed.

The Rajthanan woman waited for a moment, then walked around the screens, the chain attached to her ankle clinking. Jack could just make out her flickering silhouette through the dense mesh of cane. Seemingly satisfied there was now no one in the room, she came back to the wardrobe and opened the door.

Jack stepped out. ‘Thank you.’

He couldn’t quite believe his luck in coming across this woman. He would probably have been captured by now if it weren’t for her.

He looked around and took in several luxurious Rajthanan-style cushion-seats, a dressing table, wicker stools, a rug covered in intricate designs and a bed shrouded by silk drapes. A fire crackled in a small hearth and several oil lanterns were dotted about the chamber. He smelt jasmine, cinnamon and lotus, although this wasn’t enough to disguise the background scent of coal and sattva.

It was odd to be standing in the private room of a Rajthanan woman. Normally, an Englishman would be executed for that. He felt strangely awkward, as if he’d walked in while the woman was half dressed.

He pulled his hair back, retied his ponytail and straightened his tunic. ‘I’ll be on my way, then.’

The woman smiled quizzically. ‘Don’t think you’ll get far. There’re guards outside my door.’

‘Then I’ll go back out that way.’ He motioned to the balcony.

‘You going to climb? It’s a long way to fall.’

‘I’ll have to take my chances.’

‘I’ve got a better idea. Hide here for a few hours. The guards won’t stay outside the door long. Most of them get drunk in the evening. Usually there are hardly any of them around at night.’

Jack rubbed his chin. The woman was making sense. He couldn’t fight armed guards when he didn’t have a weapon. And if the Cattans were mostly drunk, that would make it easier for him to move around the castle.

But still, why was this woman helping him? Could he trust her? ‘Who are you?’

‘You’ve just burst into my room and you’re asking me who I am?’

He coughed and straightened his shoulders. ‘Sorry, madam. I don’t have time for niceties.’

Her eyes twinkled. ‘My name’s Sonali. Who are you?’

Was there any point lying to her? ‘Jack.’

‘Jack.’ She sounded the word out slowly, as if sampling a rare fruit. ‘And what are you doing here, Jack?’

As he thought how to respond to this question, the door creaked open again. He heard voices somewhere behind the screens.

Sonali’s face dropped and her eyes went dark. ‘Back in there.’ She pushed him towards the wardrobe.

He slipped inside and she shut the door.

‘There you are,’ a man said from the other side of the room.

Sonali jumped and turned.

Jack saw a dark figure coalesce behind the lattice screens. He tensed. Who’d just come into the room? Had he seen Jack?

Sonali turned her back on the new arrival, walked across the room and stood before the mirror on top of her dressing table. She brushed her long black hair.

The man emerged from behind the screens.

Jack’s heart jolted.

It was Mahajan.

The siddha was still dressed in a Scottish cloak and tunic, but had set aside his staff. ‘The guards think there was an intruder.’

Sonali glanced at Mahajan in her mirror, then looked away and continued brushing her hair.

‘Did you see anyone?’ Mahajan asked. ‘He was in this tower.’

Sonali looked at Mahajan in the mirror again and raised her chin haughtily. ‘I saw no one. Leave me now.’

Mahajan scowled. A blast of sattva flew out from him, so powerful Jack had to fight to stop himself from choking. Mahajan strode across to Sonali, grasped her hair and yanked her head back. She cried out and stumbled to her knees. Mahajan dragged her into the centre of the room. She shrieked, struggled to free herself and managed to get back on her feet.

Christ. Jack’s heart pumped hard. Was he going to stay hiding and watch Sonali being beaten?

Sonali swung herself round and Mahajan let go of her. She snarled and flew at him, trying to scratch his face. But a glowing, bronze-coloured mantle suddenly enveloped him. She hit the shimmering bronze with a sound like a gong and was repulsed backwards so hard she fell against the dressing table. She slipped to the floor again.

The shield vanished as quickly as it had appeared and Mahajan stood over her. ‘Pathetic. Why do you bother?’

Sonali looked up, her eyes both tearful and fierce. She swore at Mahajan using Rajthani words Jack didn’t recognise.

Mahajan glared at her, his features twisting. ‘Stupid girl.’

Sonali gave a shout, which was cut short almost immediately. She scrabbled at the torc about her neck, trying without success to wrench it off. She made rasping sounds and writhed on the floor. Her face went red. She seemed to be choking.

Jack tightened his fists. He would have to do something. Mahajan was using some sort of power to strangle Sonali and he couldn’t stand by and watch her die. He cursed the fact he didn’t have a pistol – he could have shot Mahajan in the back before the siddha could even turn. Instead, he was going to have to rush at Mahajan and pummel him with his fists.

Jack steeled himself to move. But then Mahajan took a step back. Sonali gasped and began gulping down air again. The torc was no longer choking her.

‘Don’t try me, girl,’ Mahajan said. ‘I will snuff you out one of these days.’

Sonali sat up, rubbing her neck. ‘You won’t dare.’

‘I’m tiring of these games. You will change your mind, or I will make you.’

‘I never will.’

Mahajan smiled and said in an oily voice, ‘We’ll see. I might enjoy making you.’ He walked to the balcony doors, opened one of them and stood looking out through the billowing curtains. He shivered slightly and rubbed one of his arms. ‘It’s getting cold. Perhaps it will snow again. I do so love the snow.’ He turned and smiled at Sonali. ‘It’s the wildness of it. It seeps into you, don’t you think?’ He looked back out of the window. ‘Civilisation is so constraining, but out here with the savages . . . we can find the savagery within us.’

‘You’re insane.’

‘Perhaps. But I have never felt more sane. Think about what I’ve said. I won’t delay any longer.’

He left suddenly, making his way through the maze of screens. A few seconds later, the door scraped and then slammed shut.

Jack breathed out. His heart was still beating wildly.

Sonali slipped over to the wardrobe and opened it. ‘He’s gone.’

‘Are you all right?’

She looked away. ‘Yes.’

‘That necklace.’ He reached out to touch the torc. He could see a line of red where it had dug into her skin.

She slapped his hand away. ‘Leave it.’ She walked across to the balcony and opened both doors wide.

‘Only trying to help.’

She stared outside. The wind had picked up and the curtains now lifted and coiled about her. Her face was still. ‘No one can help me.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand enough. I can see you’re trapped here with that thing around your neck.’

Sonali stroked the torc with her finger but stayed silent.

‘Mahajan controls it?’ Jack said.

‘Yes.’ She looked down. ‘If he commands, it’ll choke me. He can kill me any time he pleases.’

‘And yet he keeps you alive.’

‘Perhaps not for much longer.’

‘Unless you change your mind. About what?’

‘There’s much more to this than you know.’ She looked at Jack and swept her hair back with her fingers. As she did this, her shawl slipped down and revealed a criss-cross of white scars on her arm.

Jack stepped closer. ‘Did Mahajan do that?’

She covered her arm quickly. ‘It’s none of your business.’

Jack felt heat ripple across his face. ‘He tortured you?’

‘Forget it.’

Mahajan was an evil bastard. ‘I’ll get you out of here.’

‘I can’t leave the castle. Mahajan will activate the necklace.’

‘Then we’ll get it off.’

Sonali’s eyes flashed. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried?’

‘There’s got to be a way.’ He looked around for something he could use to prise off the torc.

‘No. Mahajan’s a powerful siddha. The necklace can’t be broken. Not while he’s alive.’

Jack paused. Sonali knew more about all this than he did. There was no reason for him to doubt what she said. But at the same time, Sonali had helped him and he had to return the favour somehow. ‘So, if Mahajan is killed, you’ll be free.’

‘Don’t even think about it. He’s covered in a shield. All the time. Not even bullets can get through it. Only a powerful siddha could harm him. He’s practically invincible.’

‘No one’s invincible.’

She turned away again. ‘There’s nothing you can do. Wait for a little longer. Then get out of here. It’s for the best.’

Jack sighed. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Sonali trapped in the castle. But he also knew she was right – there was little he could do for her at the moment.

He slumped down in a cushion-seat and rubbed the back of his neck. Tiredness weighed on him. ‘Before I go, there’s something you might be able to help me with.’

She turned and sat on a stool beside the dressing table. ‘What?’

‘I’m looking for four comrades. They were captured by Cattans. They might be here.’

‘Three soldiers and a Rajthanan officer?’

Jack sat up straighter. ‘Yes. You’ve seen them?’

‘No. But I heard about them. A war party brought them in. Mahajan was very suspicious about what they were doing all the way out here.’

Jack paused, then asked slowly, ‘Are they alive?’

‘Yes.’

Jack leant forward. ‘You’re sure?’

She nodded. ‘Pretty sure. Mahajan mentioned them yesterday. He said he still didn’t know who they were. He said he was going to find out, though.’

Jack said a quick Hail Mary in his head. ‘Where are they?’

‘In the dungeon.’

‘How do I get there?’

‘You won’t be able to get them out.’

‘I have to.’

‘There are guards. Locked doors. Bars. I know. Mahajan locked me in there for a while.’

‘Just tell me how to get there. I’ll think of something.’

‘I will. When the guards are gone from the door. I doubt they’ll be there much longer.’

Jack leant against the seat’s bolster, tilted his head back and shut his eyes for a moment. He wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t risk it. The Cattans would still be looking for him and might come to search Sonali’s room at any time.

The fire in his chest shivered. The strong sattva was still making him giddy.

He opened his eyes again and saw Sonali studying him. Her features were slender and her hair glowed in the firelight. She looked sad and, he had to admit, beautiful.

‘Why are you here?’ he asked. ‘In this castle?’

‘I was one of Mahajan’s maids. In Rajthana.’

‘A maid?’ He’d heard there were Rajthanan servants back in Rajthana, but it was still strange to think of an Indian as a servant.

‘Yes. I’ve been to many places with him. The Inca lands, Andalusia, al-Francon.’

‘So why have you ended up a prisoner?’

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