The Medieval Murderers - The Lost Prophecies

‘It doesn’t matter how much technical skill you put into it,’ Parvati said, ‘or what systems you develop, northern North America will never be made fertile. Most of it is just peat bog, melted permafrost. People live on stupid dreams.’

‘You have to try.’

Shiva saw that she wasn’t concentrating any more. She glanced frowningly at the two men at the next table. A young waiter, a good-looking blond boy, had brought their main course, and the two men smiled at him suggestively as he served their food. ‘We’ll call you back if we want anything,’ the younger called after him as he left. The boy blushed and walked away faster. The man laughed. His voice had a drunken slur.

Parvati leaned forward and spoke in a low, angry voice. ‘It should be made illegal, what these people do. Yet here they are flouting it in public.’

‘Ignore them.’

The two men had heard and turned their heads towards them. Parvati took a deep breath, returning to their conversation. ‘And in the Rockies, some of the mountain land is just too steep. Like in Fjordland here. They can never cultivate there.’

‘I hear you have problems with dogs in North America.’

‘Filthy things. I hate them. A pack of dogs killed a young cousin of mine. They had a farm out in the wilderness. Just took her one day when she was out playing, tore her to pieces. We try to kill them, but there are millions of the things.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Some people still keep dogs as pets. Pretend that animals can give them affection. But they’re just things; they don’t have souls.’

Her anger was showing through now, Shiva thought. The blond young waiter came to take their order. They both asked for trout and sweet potatoes. As the waiter left, the younger man at the next table said in a loud, mock-hurt voice: ‘And I thought he was coming to see us again.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Parvati breathed. She gave the pair another nasty look but controlled herself. ‘There are animal problems here in South Island too,’ she said to Shiva. ‘Keas.’

‘What are they?’

‘Native parrots. When the kiwi went extinct they were made the national bird. They were protected for a time and the population soared. They’re a real pest in the countryside now.’

At the next table, one of the men made a little squawking noise, like a parrot. The other laughed and joined in. Parvati ignored them, and, leaning forward towards Shiva, said: ‘We try to kill them with traps,’ she said. ‘It’s starting to work. They’re intelligent, but they’re greedy too.’

‘What a bottom that waiter’s got,’ the younger man said loudly. The remark was meant to provoke; the two were looking at Parvati’s prominent cross.

She turned around and, suddenly furious, said: ‘Be quiet! You filthy animals!’

The men’s expressions changed at once to anger. ‘You watch your mouth, lady,’ one said.

Shiva stood up. ‘Let’s cool things down,’ he said quietly.

‘They’re filth!’ Parvati seemed to have lost control completely.

The older man stood up.

‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Shiva said.

‘We’ve nothing to be sorry for,’ Parvati said.

‘Fundamentalist bastards.’ The blond man stood, raised his arm and took a swing at Shiva. He dodged, grabbed the man’s arm and suddenly they were struggling. They both fell to the floor. Shiva could have dealt with him easily but dared not show it in front of Parvati; he was supposed to be a cultural attaché. The younger man stood up, egging his friend on. ‘Show him, Dave!’ Other diners stood up. A woman screamed. The manager appeared. ‘Stop this!’ he shouted. ‘Stop it!’ Shiva disentangled himself from the blond man and got to his feet, but the younger man grasped him around the waist, unbalancing him so they both fell backwards into Shiva’s table. Parvati took the jug of water and threw it over the younger man’s head.

‘Get out!’ the manager shouted. ‘All of you! Get out! This is a civilized restaurant!’

Shiva found himself released. The two men glared at them, then threw some money on the table and stalked out together.

‘I’m sorry,’ Parvati said.

Shiva was angry with her now. She had been provoked, but it was her outburst that had turned things to violence. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said coldly. He apologized to the manager and led the way outside.

The two men were waiting for them, one on each side of the door. They grabbed Shiva from behind, pinning his arms behind his back, and dragged him around the side of the building into a dark alley. Shiva struggled but realized that he was dealing with professionals, not amateurs. The younger man held him fast and the older stood in front of him. His expression was cold and clear; there was no sign of drunkenness now. He reached up and took something from his shirt pocket.

Shiva glanced around. He saw that Parvati was standing at the entrance to the alley, looking out on the street. She turned and stared at him with a blank face, then nodded to the man. Shiva looked fearfully at his hand, expecting to see a knife, but it was a cloth he held. He pushed it into Shiva’s face. When he breathed in it was as though a horse had kicked him. He was conscious of falling, then everything went dark.

Shiva awoke to find himself lying on a wooden floor, his hands bound behind his back. His left shoulder hurt badly. He became aware that his body was rocking gently to and fro. An electronic hum vibrated through the floor. He was on a train.

Painfully, he tried to sit up. A booted foot on his chest pushed him back.

‘Let him up.’ It was Parvati’s voice.

Strong hands lifted him into a seat. He almost cried out at the pain in his shoulder. He shook his head to try to clear it. He was in a small railway carriage, empty apart from him, the two men from the restaurant and, sitting opposite, Parvati. He glanced out of the window. Spectacular mountainous countryside, ploughed fields and olive groves outside the train. Some way off, in the foothills, he could see people working, clearing squares of land, laying new soil, creating fields.

The two men were wearing crosses now, and their elaborate hairstyles had been combed out, leaving scarecrow-like shocks of hair. He looked at their faces properly for the first time. There was a similarity in the cast of their features and their sharp blue eyes that Shiva had missed; he realized they were probably brothers. He turned to Parvati. She wore a confident expression now, her eyes fierce. It was as though a different person had taken over her body. She was a very good actor.

‘You were easy to capture,’ she said. Her voice was different, the enunciation slow and cold and clear.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Shiva’s voice came out as a croak, and he realized he had a raging thirst. His shoulder throbbed. They must have twisted something, hauling him about when he was unconscious.

‘The bottom end of South Island,’ Parvati said. ‘To meet the Leader.’

‘Your friend’s in for a surprise, isn’t he?’ the younger man said, and both laughed. Parvati shot them an annoyed look. ‘This is serious,’ she said. ‘We have to find out what he knows.’

Shiva glanced up and down the train. From the speed at which it was moving up a very steep slope, he guessed there was only one carriage. ‘You have your own train?’ he asked.

‘We do,’ Parvati replied. ‘A private company run by our nominees controls all the railways in the southwest. And we built this one for ourselves, out to the far west where nobody goes. Our Leader is a great strategic thinker,’ she added in her new, didactic voice.

‘This is the train we bring the scientists on.’ The dark-haired young man had the air of someone enjoying telling a secret.