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 whispered, his lips curled in disdain.
Rega now stood beneath a vast screen illustrated with a picture of the Buddha and illuminated 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. 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.
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.
‘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. Show 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. He inhaled slowly, 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, 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 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.