Luca stared down at the floor, trying to process everything she had told him. He felt the same suspicions resurfacing and wondered whether Shara was telling him the whole truth or, as with the route up the rock-face, whether this was only part of the story once again. He wanted so much to trust her, but there was still so much that didn’t make sense, so much that needed answering.
As he was about to speak, an image came to him of the Abbot, his ghostly silhouette visible behind the giant screen. The Abbot had obviously placed a huge amount of trust in him, and for each of his suspicions there had been a perfectly reasonable explanation. Perhaps now was the time to finally take something on faith and trust what Shara was telling him.
Luca raised himself to his full height without a twinge from his back. A new energy seemed to flood through him at the prospect of this new adventure.
‘Yeah, I’ll do it. But if the four of us are heading out into the mountains we’re going to need some more supplies. Only Bill’s rucksack made it out of the cave and there’s not much: an MRS stove, fifty metres of rope, some hardware.’
‘I’ve spoken to Dorje about it. He’s already organised supplies and extra clothing.’
‘OK,’ said Luca, his mind racing. ‘I’ll have to sort through them. When do we leave?’
‘Tomorrow morning at first light,’ Shara said, suddenly feeling caught up by Luca’s enthusiasm. Maybe the Abbot had been right all along. Maybe they really could depend on these men.
‘Wait a second,’ Luca said. ‘You haven’t even told me where we’re going.’
Shara didn’t answer for a moment, then a smile seemed to play across her lips.
‘You’re finally getting what you wished for,’ she said. ‘We’re heading for the pyramid mountain.’
Chapter 48
FOUR FIGURES MOVED silently along the corridors of the monastery. They brushed past the countless doors, occasionally cutting through a faint beam of light from an outside window as the late-afternoon sun spilled in from the far mountain ridge.
It was dusk and time for personal reflection. All the monks were in their cells, deep in meditation, leaving every corridor deserted, every door closed. It was the perfect time to act.
Rega moved fast, his left hand dragging against the wall, guided by every contour and imperfection. He turned sharply down a flight of stairs, then into a corridor which tunnelled directly back into the mountain. As the natural light began to fade, one of the three figures following in his wake paused to pull a nearby torch from the wall. The flame leaped up as he held it high, illuminating Drang’s scarred face.
Eventually they came to the entrance to the Abbot’s quarters and paused. Despite the urgency of their mission, everyone but Rega stared up in wonder at the mighty pillars flanking the door, amazed by the golden swastikas dancing in the firelight.
‘Hide yourselves,’ he whispered, grabbing the torch from Drang’s hand. The others retreated a few paces, fading out of the circle of light.
Rega swung the base of the torch against the heavy door. A moment later a small wooden shutter was pulled back to reveal a pair of large brown eyes set in a young face.
‘Venerable Father,’ Norbu said in greeting, his voice high and wispy, ‘The meeting of the full moon is not for another three days.’
‘I have urgent information for His Holiness. Make way.’
Norbu blinked several times in quick succession.
‘But, Father,’ he stuttered, ‘the law decrees that information must be passed in writing unless His Holiness ordains otherwise.’ Norbu’s eyes stared through the hatch, studying Rega’s wizened face. ‘I have been instructed to allow no visitors.’
Rega moved closer still so that Norbu could smell the sour aroma of his breath. ‘How dare you quote the law to me, boy?’
‘I apologise, Father, but I am only passing on . . .’
‘Silence,’ Rega hissed. ‘Open the door.’
Norbu looked imploringly at him, the strain of this conversation making his cheeks flush red.
‘But, Father, please understand, I am not allowed . . . I was expressly told so.’
Rega inhaled deeply, stepping back from the door. His voice softened. ‘Well, in that case, I will have to trust you with what needs to be said. After all, the Abbot does speak most highly of you, young Norbu.’
The boy smiled nervously, tilting his head to one side so that his ear was pressed against the opening.
‘But what I tell you is of the utmost secrecy,’ Rega continued, breathing the words. ‘Our Abbot is in grave danger. We must warn him together.’
Norbu’s eyes widened in alarm. It took several seconds for him to fight his stammer.
‘Danger? But . . . who . . . who would harm His Holiness?’
‘There have been many murmurs of discontent while the Abbot follows the last stage of his path and many have become disenchanted with his rule. You must let me in so that I can warn him of the danger he faces.’
Norbu blinked, hesitating once again.
‘But if there is danger, I shouldn’t let anyone in . . . and His Holiness specifically said . . . said . . . that . . .’
Rega smiled, bringing the torch higher towards his own face.
‘Look at me,’ he said gently. ‘I am just an old, blind man. What possible danger could I be? Now open the door, young Norbu, and let us warn him together.’
There was a moment’s pause before Rega heard the heavy metal runners grating. The door opened an inch and Norbu’s head peered out cautiously.
‘Please, Father, come in quickly,’ he whispered. ‘I shall inform His Holiness you are here.’
As Rega stepped across the threshold he lashed out, shoving Norbu back with surprising strength. At the same moment three figures came crashing in behind him, Drang at their head. His sinewy right arm grabbed Norbu by the throat and wheeled him round, dragging him back into the main chamber. Norbu’s arms flailed pathetically as he squirmed in the iron grip, eyes bulging from the pressure on his windpipe. A few paces farther in and Drang flung him down on to the stone floor.
‘Simple fool,’ he sneered.
Rega now stood beneath the vast screen illustrated with a picture of the Buddha and lit by a small row of lamps at its base. The crystal-blue eyes shone in the candlelight, staring out into the room with an otherworldly calm. With a sweep of his hand, he signalled for two of his aides to begin searching the maze of rooms at the opposite end of the central chamber.
Rega’s head turned towards Drang.
‘Tear it down,’ he said.
Drang gave the fabric of the screen a mighty wrench, pulling the entire thing from its fixings. The great cloth buckled, slowly collapsing in on itself, before dropping to the floor, snuffing out the lamps at its base.
Behind it, a figure was seated in the lotus position. Its eyes remained closed as Rega stepped over the fallen screen.
‘Your rule is finished,’ he whispered. ‘I am taking over the monastery.’
The eyes flickered open, staring at Rega as if he were a figment of his imagination. The Abbot had a broad oval face, etched with lines of old age. His hair was cropped short, fading into baldness towards the crown, while his eyes stared out from beneath heavy black eyebrows. Ornate gold robes were wrapped around his body in tight folds, while his hands lay clasped on his lap. From the warm light of the room a gentleness seemed to radiate from his entire body, making it seem as if he were about to break into a broad smile at any moment.
‘You have left me no choice,’ Rega continued. ‘Hand over the boy. It is time for him to become known.’
The Abbot slowly raised his right hand, signalling to a large metal rod placed on a stand just before him. Its stem was made from unpolished gold with a string of jade beads hanging from one end. The seal of Geltang was etched into the other.
‘Then take the Dharmachakra,’ the Abbot said. ‘If it is what you most truly desire, take our Wheel of Law, and take my place as Abbot. But do not ask me for the boy. Sh
ow compassion for his innocence.’
‘His innocence is immaterial!’ Rega snapped. ‘He must take his place as rightful leader of Tibet. I cannot stand by any longer while you hide him from the outside world. I will do what you should have done and install him in Shigatse, his rightful place.’
The Abbot remained impassive, a look of deep contemplation on his face.
‘You seek only to use him to fulfil your vision for our country,’ he said finally, his voice soft and free from any hint of recrimination. ‘You fail to understand that if we use the Chinese ways, if we succumb to the expedience of violence, we will become nothing more than a reflection of our enemies, a shadow of the same. Our path on the Wheel of Life will reverse, tainting all we have worked so long to protect.’
The Abbot’s eyes slowly focused on Rega.
‘Take my place, old friend. Become Geltang’s next Abbot, but I beg you to reconsider the path you intend to follow.’
Rega seemed lost in thought, his hands bunching into fists at his side.
‘This time, I will not stand by while our rooftops burn,’ he said, his voice harsh with emotion. ‘With the treasure and the boy, I finally have the power to overthrow the Chinese. Make no mistake, Abbot, the revolution will start from these very walls. From here, we will finally fight for our own country!’
The Abbot exhaled a long, slow breath. ‘We might win our country, but we will lose our faith.’
From the far corner of the room one of Rega’s aides suddenly appeared. He took a couple of steps forward then paused.
‘The boy is not here.’
Rega swivelled round to face the Abbot again, anger rising within him.
‘Where have you hidden him?’ he demanded. ‘Tell me where he is or I will tear this monastery apart!’
There was silence in the chamber as the Abbot stared directly ahead, his expression unchanged.
‘You will not find him,’ he said quietly. ‘He has already gone from here.’
‘We shall see,’ Rega replied. Then, signalling to Drang, ‘Take the Abbot away. His enlightenment can only be hastened by joining the Perfect Life. Prepare the straps for his body and take his robes of office from him.’
Drang moved forward, his hands hesitating for the briefest of moments before hauling the Abbot to his feet. The old man’s legs struggled to find the ground as he was pulled across his own chamber.
As the procession swept out of the door, they passed Norbu lying on the floor. He stared up at them, eyes clouded by fear and confusion.
‘And what of him?’ Drang asked.
‘He is of no consequence. Throw the halfwit in with the other novices.’ Rega swept forward again. ‘Sound the assembly. I want every monk in this order before me within the hour.’
He had to win over the rest of the monks before Geltang would be truly his. Then he would find that precious boy.
Chapter 49
LUCA RACED DOWN the stone steps of the monastery with Babu hugged under his right arm. The boy’s head jostled up and down to the same rhythm as the rucksack slung across his back as Luca took two stairs at a time, running headlong into the night.
Trying to keep up, Shara hurried down behind them with Bill gripping on to her shoulder for support. He grimaced, jaw clenching in pain as the fabric of his trousers chafed against the newly healed scars. But none of them stopped for a second. They had to get away from Geltang and into the safety of the mountains.
Luca reached the end of the stairway and continued at full tilt, his stride opening up as he broke into a full sprint on the gravel pathway. He followed the path down, winding towards the lowest reaches of the valley before he slowed and finally stopped. Sliding Babu down on to his feet, he bent forward, winded from the effort, and stared back at the towering façade of Geltang monastery. Grey in the moonlight, it loomed over them like a colossal tombstone.
There was a clattering of feet as Bill and Shara arrived, breathing hard.
‘Everyone OK?’ Luca asked. Both of them nodded, trying to catch their breath. ‘I think we can rest for a moment. We should be far enough away.’
While Shara and Babu sat down on a nearby boulder, Bill limped towards Luca, rubbing his hands gingerly down the back of his thigh. He could feel a small damp patch just above his knee where the scar had broken and a watery mix of blood and pus had oozed on to his trousers.
‘That wasn’t such a smart idea,’ he said, wincing from the dull throbbing in his legs.
‘Sorry, mate, I thought I saw someone coming towards us across the courtyard. I just ran.’
Bill nodded.
‘I saw them too.’
Bill stared across at Luca from under the brow of his fleece hat. It was pulled low over his forehead, casting a deep shadow across his eyes. A thick beard now covered his jawline and his cheeks looked uncharacteristically hollow from the weight he had lost over the last week. Despite claiming to feel stronger, he still looked gaunt and tired.
Luca stared up into the night sky, distracted by a thick swathe of cloud that had drifted across the full moon. Reaching down into his rucksack, he pulled his head-torch from the side pouch. A moment later his face was bathed in a stark neon light which picked up the curls of vapour from his breath.
‘You think it’s safe to use these?’ he whispered.
Bill stared across at him, squinting under the glare.
‘Unless you want to fall down the side of the mountain, I don’t think we have much of a choice. There’s too much cloud tonight.’
Bill released his grip on his thigh, straightening his back.
‘I’m worried,’ he said, staring at Luca.
‘About your legs?’
‘No, not me. Them.’
With a nod of his head, he gestured towards Shara and Babu resting on a rock ten feet away. Shara was holding a leather water bottle, gently pouring the liquid into Babu’s open mouth. The child swallowed, then wiped his face with his sleeve. His small frame seemed to be engulfed by the heavy sheepskin jacket he was wearing, with only his little felt boots protruding underneath.
‘You heard what Shara said,’ Luca whispered, following Bill’s gaze. ‘We just have to get them to this shrine.’
‘Yeah, but why us?’
‘Because no one’s been there for nearly a hundred years and the shrine’s apparently halfway up the mountain. No one knows how bad the route’s going to be.’
Bill turned his back to Shara and Babu, lowering his voice further.
‘Jesus, Luca. Don’t you think things through? I’m not talking about the route. I mean why did the Abbot want us to go and not someone else from the monastery? If the boy’s so important, why hand him to a couple of strangers?’
‘I have thought it through,’ Luca answered defensively. ‘Geltang’s full of monks, not mountaineers. Can you imagine Dorje traversing mountain passes in the middle of the bloody night!’
Bill exhaled heavily, sending a wash of vapour through the glow of the head-torch. Behind them Shara was standing up, getting ready to leave again. She pulled tight the hood of Babu’s jacket so that curls of hair stuck out across his cheeks. Bill watched them for a moment, then reached up to scratch his beard.
‘I know you gave Shara your word, but Chinese soldiers? This is dangerous shit, Luca. We shouldn’t even be here.’
Luca didn’t answer but stared down at his hands, lost in thought. His fingers were swollen and calloused from years spent climbing and his thumb worked across the pads of hardened skin on his palms. He’d never come across soldiers before on any of his expeditions. Nor, for that matter, had he ever held a gun. But guns or not, soldiers weren’t mountaineers. If they spotted any sign of trouble, all they had to do to remain safe was climb deeper into the Himalayas. They had over a week’s worth of food that Dorje had given them and enough fuel left over in Bill’s MSR stove for even longer.
Luca smiled slowly as he remembered something Dorje had told him while they were sorting through the equipment.
‘
You know, I’m not exactly one for karma,’ he told Bill, ‘but you’ve got to admit, it’s strange how things work out. All this time looking for the pyramid mountain and here we are, hiking through the middle of the night to get to it.’
‘Yeah.’ Bill looked up, catching the expression on his face. ‘Wait a second. This is about more than getting to the shrine, isn’t it? You’re thinking that after we dump Shara and the kid, we’ll go for the summit.’
Luca raised his hands, his smile widening innocently.
‘The way I see it, if the Abbot wants us to kick our heels at the shrine for a week, then why the hell not go for the summit while we’re there?’
Bill’s expression hardened and he reached out, gripping Luca hard by his wrist.
‘Because I have to get home, that’s why,’ he said. ‘All I’ve been thinking about lying on that bed has been getting back to Cathy and the kids. And right now that’s pretty much all I care about. We deliver the boy, then we head back down the mountain to the village.’
He paused for a second, his voice dropping lower.
‘I’m serious Luca. That’s what we agreed and that’s what we are going to do.’
Shara came over to where they stood. She pulled her hair back from her face, tying it round in a knot behind her head, and looked at them both questioningly.
‘Whatever you guys are discussing, it can wait. We need to get moving.’ She turned to Bill. ‘How are the legs holding up?’
‘OK, but I think Babu and I are going to be the ones bringing up the rear.’
Shara smiled. ‘Well, I don’t think he’d be too unhappy with that. I think you’ve got yourself a fan.’
Babu joined them on the pathway, looking up at Bill from under the furry lining of his hood.
‘Ribbit,’ he said, and his nose wrinkled into a smile.
Luca walked swiftly along the path, twisting as it zig-zagged up the other side of the valley. He drew the night air deep into his lungs, enjoying the burn in his thighs as he worked his way higher with each step. Despite everything, it felt good finally to be out of the monastery and climbing once again.
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