The Forbidden Temple (17 page)

René quickly glanced away and stared down at the floor, his mind reeling.

How the hell had he missed them when the soldiers first walked in? Everyone knew that gold and black insignia. This man was PSB. And a full captain at that.

‘I’m sure there’s just been some confusion here,’ he said eventually. ‘They were just standard tourist permits. Nothing more than that.’

‘Well, your “standard” tourists have not yet reached Shigatse. In fact, they seem to have disappeared completely. They even left without their interpreter,’ Zhu said, inhaling on his cigarette and blowing the smoke across the table. Then, without looking at René, he spoke again, his voice soft, almost conversational.

‘Where are they?’

‘I’m not sure . . .’

‘Where are they?’ he repeated, his tone unwavering.

René stood in the centre of the room, staring down at his bare feet. His toes were balled up against the cold flooring. For some reason, having no shoes on was making him feel horribly exposed.
Why the hell was a full captain of the secret police asking him questions about something so banal as a permit? Had the boys been telling him the truth or were they up to something more than just climbing Makalu?

‘Maybe their truck broke down and they’ve been held up a few days. These things happen.’

‘That could be the case,’ Zhu replied, unblinking. ‘Yes, maybe that’s it. The truck.’

There was another silence and René tried to work out what to say next, but found his mind struggling to keep up. If only he weren’t so damn’ hung over.

‘So why are these two particular foreigners back in Tibet after only a month?’

The change of direction in his questioning caught René completely off-guard. Christ, they had been fast. The amount of paperwork these guys had to wade through, it normally took them weeks to put all the pieces together.

‘I don’t know why they came back,’ he said, shrugging his bear-like shoulders. ‘Maybe they like it here.’

Zhu stared at him, their eyes meeting. A split second later René broke the gaze, looking away to the window.

This seedy expat was holding something back, Zhu was sure of it. Two foreigner climbers back within a month to the same godforsaken area, and now they had suddenly disappeared. The monk at Drapchi had said that it was climbers from Nepal who had come to rescue the Panchen Lama, and the Westerners had arrived from Kathmandu and were last seen heading south-east. That would put them near Tingkye.

Even if the location were a coincidence, the timing could not be. Back now, at the very same time that the boy had been spirited away.

Zhu stood up from his chair, and addressed Chen.

‘Have him dress properly and take him into the station for questioning.’

René glared at the slight, precise figure before him, rage finally triumphing over his hangover.

‘I am a Foreign National. I have rights,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘We both know it. You can’t touch me.’

‘I think you might be surprised what we can do,’ Zhu said, and with the tip of his shoe delicately stubbed out his cigarette on the wooden floor, leaving a small circular burn mark. For a moment his eyes turned upwards, slowly taking in his surroundings as if for the first time.

‘By the way, nice place you’ve got here.’

THE CHILL OF
the night drew in quickly and a multitude of stars appeared across the black sky. Bill and Luca lay close to the campfire, away from the direction in which the wind was blowing its smoke. Their feet were right up against the embers, almost burning the soles of their boots, as they watched the boil-in-the-bag rations begin to simmer in the small aluminium cooking pot.

‘You go back to the village and ask if you want to,’ Bill said again. ‘She must think I’m a complete idiot for handing out the antibiotics.’

Luca grinned and leaned his head back in his clasped hands. ‘I’m just as guilty as you by association. Besides, women seem to like you. It’s that trustworthy face of yours. Fools ’em every time. Take Cathy, for instance . . .’

At the mention of his wife’s name, the smile faded from Bill’s face. He stared into the glowing embers, his expression clouding over. Luca sat forward again.

‘Sorry, mate, I shouldn’t have brought that up. And for the record, about the antibiotics, I’ve been thinking about it and . . .’

He stopped mid-sentence. From somewhere in the darkness came the crunch of stones on the path. Both men sat up straight as the old monk they had seen at the entrance to the village came slowly into view, his red robes glowing in the firelight. He raised a hand in greeting, emitting some guttural syllables that neither of them could
understand. His right hand was extended behind him and it took a second for Bill and Luca to realise that he was leading someone out from the shadows.

The woman from the village stepped into the light.

After a moment’s surprise, Bill and Luca both scrambled to their feet.

‘Hello,’ Luca said hesitantly.

Without answering, the woman moved around the fire, her green eyes switching from Luca to Bill as if assessing them both. Suddenly the old monk started talking again, his voice thick and rasping.

The woman waited until he had finished, then nodded.

‘My friend wants to introduce himself. He is Gyaltso Choedon of the Gelugpa sect.’ She paused before adding, ‘And I’m Shara.’ A smile crept across her lips, transforming her face. ‘I’m sorry we got off to such a bad start this afternoon.’

Luca grinned. ‘Don’t worry about it. We were just saying the same thing.’ He offered his hand. ‘I’m Luca. This is Bill.’

By the time Bill had reached across to shake her hand, the old monk had sat down by the fire and was shuffling forward, warming his hands against the flames. As they joined him, his dark eyes glinted slightly as he stared from one man to the other. His face was set in a crooked smile and he seemed strangely pleased with himself; a different man entirely from the one who had ignored them on the pathway.

Luca nodded respectfully to him before turning to Shara.

‘So, I’m guessing from your English that you’re not from this village?’

‘No,’ she said simply. ‘And I imagine you’re not either?’

Luca glanced over at Bill who was staring at her from across the flames. ‘Yeah, we’re pretty far from home. We’re both from England originally, but we’ve been to Tibet a few times before. I don’t think either of us has ever come across anyone who speaks such fluent English as you, especially as far out in the sticks as this.’

‘“In the sticks?”’ repeated Shara quizzically, then laughed. ‘You see, my English is not as good as you think.’

‘I’m sorry, I meant, remote, far away from towns or cities.’

‘I see,’ said Shara. ‘“In the sticks”. Yes, I suppose we are.’ She glanced over at the monk who smiled at her approvingly. ‘Well, originally I come from Nepal, but I grew up at an English school in Dharmasala in Northern India. I used to work there on . . . translations. With such a mixed society, many of us spoke several different languges.

‘And how did you end up out here?’ Luca continued.

‘I work in medicine and am part of a team that tours through the most remote villages in Tibet offering help where we can,’ Shara replied quickly. Then her eyes flicked towards Bill. ‘As you can see from today, there are many who need us.’

Luca nodded slowly, as Shara leant forward towards him.

‘And what about you? Why are you out here, in the sticks?’

‘We’re climbers,’ Luca replied, a trace of pride creeping into his voice. ‘We’re here for a few weeks to try and climb one or two of the mountains on the other side of the valley.’

‘But these mountains aren’t famous or particularly high. Why
here
exactly?’

‘Well, I guess it started a couple of months ago. We were high on another mountain and spotted this range. From all the maps, it looked as if none of them had been climbed and so we came out here to try some first ascents.’ He shifted forward a little, his expression suddenly less casual. ‘I’ve actually been trying to find out if they really are unclimbed from a few of the villagers, but my Tibetan’s not exactly great.’

‘No one has climbed these summits . . .’ Shara began, but before she could say any more the old monk started speaking again, his voice louder and more insistent than before. Shara turned and spoke to him for a few minutes. He seemed to be pressing her on some point, repeating the same phrase over and over again, and tugging on the sleeve of her tunic as he spoke.

Bill and Luca shot each other glances before Shara turned back to them.

‘Gyaltso wants me to tell you about a proposition he has for you.
He says that if you want to climb these mountains, he will show you a way up through the rock-face.’

Luca sat bolt upright, almost leaning into the fire in his excitement. ‘You’re serious? He really knows a way up the face?’ As Shara made to answer, he added, ‘Ask him about the first section of rock, Shara. It’s a gulley that we’re missing, isn’t it?’

Bill also was watching her intently.

‘Is there something further on from the village? Something we haven’t seen yet?’ he asked.

Shara raised her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know the way myself, but Gyaltso would be able to show you. If you agree, of course.’

Luca had levered himself up so that he was on his knees.

‘There’s really a way?’ he said incredulously, staring over at the monk in excitement. ‘I’ve been over and over that face all day and I couldn’t see a thing.’

‘Shara, how does an old monk from the Gelugpa sect know the way up a technical rock face?’ Bill said suddenly. ‘And if there really is a route, then surely that means the mountains have already been climbed?’

‘I said the summits had never been climbed. The lower slopes have. And to answer your question, when he was younger Gyaltso used to go up there every summer, searching for rare herbs. That’s how he knows of a route.’

‘Rare herbs?’ Bill repeated. ‘Didn’t think there would be many of those on an icy glacier . . .’

‘Certain lichens grow on the rocks at these altitudes,’ Shara replied, her face tilted towards the fire. ‘There are many ingredients from the mountains used in our traditional remedies. But, of course, now that he is getting frail, Gyaltso looks to me to continue his work.’

‘You? You’re going up into the mountains?’ Bill asked, glancing at her slight figure.

‘Yes.’

‘By yourself?’

Shara sighed, continuing to stare into the fire.

‘No. There was a guide here at the village who was due to lead me, but he has fallen sick, like everyone else.’

The old monk’s watery eyes had been switching back and forth between them the whole time. He fidgeted forward, pulling on Shara’s sleeve once again, asking for a translation. They spoke quickly, then she turned to Bill and Luca once more.

‘He wants to know if you accept the condition.’

‘Yeah, of course we do,’ Luca said. ‘I want to see this route he’s discovered.’

‘Hold on a second,’ Bill said. ‘What condition? You just said he would show us the way up the rock-face.’

Shara pushed her hair back from her eyes and for the first time her confidence seemed to slip.

‘The condition is you’d have to take me with you.’

As the men glanced at each other, Shara laid a hand on the monk’s arm. Then she looked up at Bill and Luca. ‘I realise it’s a lot to ask, but the herbs I am looking for are very precious and would mean we can start treating some more of the people here at this village. All you have to do is get me past the rock-face. After that, I will leave you to go for your summits.’

‘You’ve got a deal,’ Luca said, the excitement rising through his voice. He turned, looking at Bill for confirmation, but Bill remained silent. There was a pause as everyone including the old monk waited for him to speak.

‘Can you give us some time to think about it?’ Bill said eventually. ‘It’s late and with the herders gone, we’re going to have to think about how we’re going to sort the rest of the expedition.’

‘Of course,’ Shara replied. Then, climbing to her feet, she helped the old monk to his.

‘We shall leave you in peace. Good night, gentlemen.’

With a brief bow, they retreated from the light of the fire and back up the pathway towards the silent village.

Stoking some more dried yak dung on to the flames, Luca stared at Bill, who hadn’t said a word since the visitors had left.

‘I don’t get your problem with all this,’ exclaimed Luca. ‘This is the best bit of luck we’ve had since getting here.’

Bill only grunted softly and continued staring into the fire. Luca waited for a moment, then exhaled in frustration.

‘We’re being offered a route up and you’ve barely said a word. What is it with you?’

Bill’s eyes connected with Luca’s as he shifted his weight up onto his elbows.

‘Something’s not right about all of this,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but it just all sounds too easy.’

‘Too easy? Jesus, Bill, will you stop worrying for once? Let’s just go with it and see what happens. Worst case – the old monk doesn’t have a clue how to get up the rock-face and we’re back to square one.’ He stared across at Bill, studying his closed expression. ‘Is this about earlier today? She was pretty harsh about the antibiotics but . . .’

‘I don’t give a shit about the antibiotics. It’s this whole situation. We’re looking for a route up and suddenly, here she is, all smiles and bargains. Bit of a change from earlier this afternoon.’

Luca thought for a second, then the corners of his mouth curled into a smile. ‘You know what I reckon it is? I reckon you’re just pissed off because an attractive girl came out of the middle of nowhere and tore a strip off you.’

Bill didn’t rise to the comment but instead went back to staring into the embers of the fire. Luca inhaled deeply, knowing all too well how stubborn his friend could be.

‘Why don’t you just give her the benefit of the doubt? And besides, if she gets to collect those herbs then she’ll be able to help the villagers. You heard what she said. You’ll be getting what you wanted all along.’

The frown on Bill’s forehead gradually softened.