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. 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 no, soldiers weren’t mountaineers. All they had to do to remain safe was climb deeper into the Himalayas if they spotted any sign of trouble. They had over a week’s worth of food that Dorje had given them and enough fuel in Bill’s MSR stove for even longer.
He 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. ‘We deliver the boy, then we head back down the mountain. That’s what we agreed. No silly buggers this time, Luca.’
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. It felt good finally to be out of the monastery and climbing once again.
Thirty feet behind him on the trail he could see the glow of Bill’s head-torch and the faint silhouettes of Shara and Babu beyond. They were moving surprisingly well.
Less than an hour after they had set off, he came to the top of the same snow gulley they had climbed on their way to the monastery. He paused, staring down into the long drag of snow as it faded into the darkness. It was deeper now, with the top layer frozen from the cooler night air. Checking his bearings, Luca realised that the gulley was south-facing and would be most affected by any change in temperature. In the heat of the midday sun, the entire thing would be little more than heavy slush.
Shara joined him, standing by his side with the Kalak Tantra open in her hands. Using the light from his head-torch, she stared down at the densely packed script, her finger tracing one particular line. Luca craned his neck, intrigued by the book’s black pages and white angular text.
‘From here we bear west,’ she said, looking up into the night. Luca raised his hand, pointing towards the looming shadow of a steep cliff curving round in a semi-circle.
‘Looks steep,’ he said. ‘You sure about this?’
‘I think so. We traverse above the cliff for another five or six hours, then drop down the other side. From there, we should be able to see the base of the pyramid mountain.’
Luca nodded, then shook his head as Shara’s brow furrowed again while she tried to decipher the next paragraph of the book.
‘Doesn’t anyone round here know how to draw a map?’ he asked.
She looked up from the page.
‘Anyone can read a map. We prefer it this way.’
Closing the book, she placed it back in the canvas bag over her shoulder.
‘We should hurry. The Chinese could be closer than we think.’
Chapter 50
Trumpets sounded, silencing the restless hum of monks.
The entire order of Geltang sat shoulder to shoulder on the padded floor of the Great Temple. Their blue robes blended into a single, shifting form as they looked up expectantly to the central dais which bore the Abbot’s vast marble throne. The service was about to begin.
Towards the rear of the temple two novices held the giant wooden doors ajar, allowing the evening breeze to circulate, but it did little to cool the mass of heaving bodies. Hundreds of monks were seated, line after line, in perfect symmetry. Each held their prayer wheel in their right hand, some staring anxiously towards the stage while others rocked back and forth, already murmuring the evening sutra. Each knew that the entire order of Geltang only came together on the most portentous occasions. Something significant was about to happen and the atmosphere was charged with expectation.