won’t harm me.’
He pushed through the undergrowth and scrambled up the embankment. He reached the side of the road, waved his arms above his head and called out. One of the riders peeled away from the others and trotted his horse across to Jack.
The man looked down from his saddle. ‘What do you want?’
‘Just news of the road east,’ Jack replied.
The man narrowed his eyes and looked Jack up and down. His surcoat was emblazoned with a sign Jack didn’t recognise. ‘To the east? I advise you not to go that way.’
‘Why not? The Rajthanans?’
The man snorted. ‘The heathens are still many miles away.’ He licked his lips. ‘No. It’s the Devil you need to worry about.’
‘The Devil?’
‘Aye. The Evil One. He stalks the land here. We’re leaving this forsaken place.’
Jack blinked. This was all very hard to believe ‘You’re sure of this?’
‘Aye, I’m sure. You can choose to believe or not, as you wish. But I warn you, don’t carry on up this road.’ The man nudged his horse with his feet, and the animal trotted away after the rest of the group.
The small party was already disappearing round a bend in the road. Jack could just make out the lord sitting on top of his chest, bouncing as the cart juddered over the uneven ground.
Jack slid back down the embankment and pushed his way through the bushes to Kanvar.
‘Just heard something strange.’ He began unhitching his horse. ‘The man up there said the Devil’s walking around this place.’ He paused and looked over his shoulder at Kanvar. ‘You know who the Devil is?’
‘The adversary of God in your religion.’
‘That’s it. I can’t understand it. The people here are superstitious. But this?’
Kanvar stroked his beard. ‘It is strange indeed.’
They swung themselves into their saddles, rode back up the embankment and pressed on down the path. They spurred into a gallop, the horses’ hooves thudding on the soft earth. The black trees flickered past to either side and the wind streamed over their faces.
For a moment, Jack thought of Elizabeth and the others standing on the edge of Folly Brook as he rode away. They looked so small and frail, as if the night were about to swallow them up.
Had he made the right decision in leaving them? Had he risked abandoning them to the enemy for no good reason? He had no idea whether he would really find the Grail, let alone be able to use it. The whole idea was mad. Perhaps, after living in Shropshire for so many years, he was becoming as superstitious as his fellow countrymen. And yet, after he’d heard about the Great Yantra, he’d started to believe anything was possible.
It was just over a day since they’d set out from Folly Brook. Staffordshire lay ahead of them to the east. Before the night was out, they should reach the meeting point on the edge of the yantra. And then Jack would find out whether he could use the great power, whether he could save England in its hour of need.
The trees dispersed and the road snaked off across open marshland. Thousands of frogs croaked across the plain. The scent of rot hung in the air. Occasionally, the road itself turned boggy and the horses splashed through shallow pools. Overhead, the stars trembled in the clear sky and the full moon turned the landscape silver.
After they’d ridden for around two miles, the marshes receded on the right side of the road. Fields of wheat and barley rolled past and Jack spotted a few scattered cottages in the distance.
Around five minutes later, a village about twice the size of Folly Brook loomed ahead up the road. The huts – which included several longhouses and a tiny stone church – were spread out along the edge of a forest.
Jack drew his mare to a halt and stared at the cottages. No lights flickered in the village and there were no other signs of life. He couldn’t even see a trace of smoke rising from any of the roofs. All the same, he and Kanvar couldn’t risk riding straight through
He pushed through the undergrowth and scrambled up the embankment. He reached the side of the road, waved his arms above his head and called out. One of the riders peeled away from the others and trotted his horse across to Jack.
The man looked down from his saddle. ‘What do you want?’
‘Just news of the road east,’ Jack replied.
The man narrowed his eyes and looked Jack up and down. His surcoat was emblazoned with a sign Jack didn’t recognise. ‘To the east? I advise you not to go that way.’
‘Why not? The Rajthanans?’
The man snorted. ‘The heathens are still many miles away.’ He licked his lips. ‘No. It’s the Devil you need to worry about.’
‘The Devil?’
‘Aye. The Evil One. He stalks the land here. We’re leaving this forsaken place.’
Jack blinked. This was all very hard to believe ‘You’re sure of this?’
‘Aye, I’m sure. You can choose to believe or not, as you wish. But I warn you, don’t carry on up this road.’ The man nudged his horse with his feet, and the animal trotted away after the rest of the group.
The small party was already disappearing round a bend in the road. Jack could just make out the lord sitting on top of his chest, bouncing as the cart juddered over the uneven ground.
Jack slid back down the embankment and pushed his way through the bushes to Kanvar.
‘Just heard something strange.’ He began unhitching his horse. ‘The man up there said the Devil’s walking around this place.’ He paused and looked over his shoulder at Kanvar. ‘You know who the Devil is?’
‘The adversary of God in your religion.’
‘That’s it. I can’t understand it. The people here are superstitious. But this?’
Kanvar stroked his beard. ‘It is strange indeed.’
They swung themselves into their saddles, rode back up the embankment and pressed on down the path. They spurred into a gallop, the horses’ hooves thudding on the soft earth. The black trees flickered past to either side and the wind streamed over their faces.
For a moment, Jack thought of Elizabeth and the others standing on the edge of Folly Brook as he rode away. They looked so small and frail, as if the night were about to swallow them up.
Had he made the right decision in leaving them? Had he risked abandoning them to the enemy for no good reason? He had no idea whether he would really find the Grail, let alone be able to use it. The whole idea was mad. Perhaps, after living in Shropshire for so many years, he was becoming as superstitious as his fellow countrymen. And yet, after he’d heard about the Great Yantra, he’d started to believe anything was possible.
It was just over a day since they’d set out from Folly Brook. Staffordshire lay ahead of them to the east. Before the night was out, they should reach the meeting point on the edge of the yantra. And then Jack would find out whether he could use the great power, whether he could save England in its hour of need.
The trees dispersed and the road snaked off across open marshland. Thousands of frogs croaked across the plain. The scent of rot hung in the air. Occasionally, the road itself turned boggy and the horses splashed through shallow pools. Overhead, the stars trembled in the clear sky and the full moon turned the landscape silver.
After they’d ridden for around two miles, the marshes receded on the right side of the road. Fields of wheat and barley rolled past and Jack spotted a few scattered cottages in the distance.
Around five minutes later, a village about twice the size of Folly Brook loomed ahead up the road. The huts – which included several longhouses and a tiny stone church – were spread out along the edge of a forest.
Jack drew his mare to a halt and stared at the cottages. No lights flickered in the village and there were no other signs of life. He couldn’t even see a trace of smoke rising from any of the roofs. All the same, he and Kanvar couldn’t risk riding straight through
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