Doc Ardan: The Troglodytes of Mount Everest

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Doc Ardan: The Troglodytes of Mount Everest Page 17

by Guy d'Armen


  The bear finally decided to move, but instead of rushing towards Ardan, as the young man had planned, the animal, visibly not looking for a confrontation, merely climbed to a higher branch. The positive was that his new position was more precarious than before, but he was now beyond the young man’s reach.

  So Ardan was forced to follow the bear, being careful not to slip and fall.

  When he was in what he thought was a good position, the young man tackled the second part of his plan. Grabbing a piece of dead wood, he threw it down while shouting an insult in Kirgiz.

  The giant was immediately alerted by the noise and rushed to the spot, thrilled that he had finally located his prey.

  Now I have to trust my luck, thought Ardan, as he prepared to implement the third and final part of his stratagem.

  Rushing forward, holding his improvised lance in front of him, he managed to dislodge the bear. The animal, angry, first tried to swat the lance away with its paws, then, seeing that it had no effect on Ardan’s incessant attacks, moved forward to get rid of the bothersome gnat.

  Ardan knew that escape was now impossible; if he ran, the bear would quickly catch up with him, and kill him. The die was cast and he no longer had a choice, but pray that his plan would succeed.

  Despite his training, he could not repress a shiver, but calmed himself doing one of the mental exercises one of his teachers had taught him. His heartbeat slowed down.

  Beneath them, the giant was shaking the tree, unaware of the presence of the bear above.

  As the bear leaped forward towards the young man, Ardan calmly jumped up, grabbed hold of a sturdy branch above his head, and, with both his feet, kicked the bear down.

  The animal lost his balance and fell. It tried to break its fall by clutching at branches as it moved, but in vain. His weight was too heavy.

  As luck would have it, the bear actually fell on top of the giant’s head! This was more than Ardan had hoped for!

  The beast started clawing at the giant’s face, but the latter grabbed it with his powerful hands and managed to pry the animal loose and throw it to the ground, just as he would have done had the bear been a stray cat

  The giant was wounded and bleeding profusely, but not fatally. As for the bear, it was also hurt, but not enough to have lost its desire to fight back. With amazing speed, it got up and, roaring, leaped to attack its foe.

  Ardan had no intention of waiting to see which of the two creatures would emerge victorious. He got down as fast as he could, while making sure to not attract his enemies’ attention.

  When he was far enough away, he started to run as fast as he could, to put as much distance as possible between him and the two combatants.

  The young man’s long and arduous training had not been wasted; his speed and endurance were vastly superior to that of any ordinary man of the same age.

  He kept running through the woods at a steady pace, with long strides, concentrating on one goal and one goal only: to get away.

  Eventually, he reached the edge of the woods; beyond was a vast, grassy plain not unlike the famed puzta of Eastern Hungary. Now feeling he was no longer in danger of being chased by the giant, Ardan slowed his pace.

  Suddenly, his keen hearing heard an unnatural sound. He crouched down to hide amongst the bushes and cocked his head. He hadn’t been wrong: what he had heard was the faint, tinny sound of a jangling bell, carried by the wind, originating from beyond the low hills over the horizon.

  Ardan decided to exercise caution and remain hidden until he could ascertain the source of the noise, that was now getting closer.

  What he saw next was a cart carrying a huge barrel; it as pulled by two horses and driven by an old man. What he had heard was the sound of a bell on the collar of one of the horses. Feeling reassured, Ardan was about to come out of hiding when he heard the sound of galloping horses. He immediately crouched back behind the bushes.

  The newcomers were four Tartar horsemen. They stopped the old man and asked him some questions. From what he was able to hear, Ardan guessed that the men were part of Kyzyl Kaya’s guards, sent to look for him, just in case he had managed to escape all the deadly traps outside the Red Wizard’s underground lair.

  The old man knew nothing and the Tartars believed him; however, one of them pointed at the barrel and said something to the others, who laughed.

  The old man tried to protest, but in vain. He was roughly thrown to the ground, while one of the Tartars took the reins. They rode away, taking the cart and the barrel back with them to the underground city.

  CHAPTER X

  Suleyma

  After the Tartars had gone, Ardan rushed out to help the old man, who was moaning on the ground.

  When he saw the young man come out from behind the bushes, the old merchant first uttered a small yell of fear, but Ardan quickly explained that he was a friend—a victim of the Red Wizard.

  “All the enemies of that devil—may his name be cursed!—are friends of mine,” the old merchant said, inviting him to sit. “Who are you, who are so far away from home?”

  “My name is Francis Ardan,” replied the young man. “I was a prisoner of Kyzyl Kaya.”

  “Then it is a miracle that you escaped. None have been known to leave his underground realm without his permission. Truly, you must be a worker of wonders yourself.”

  Ardan smiled. “No; perhaps just a tad more resourceful than most. What do you know of him? I do plan to put an end to his evil reign when I reach the authorities.”

  “The authorities? Pah!” spat the old man. “They will never do anything. They, too, fear the Red Wizard. You asked me what I know of him? Know then that already during my grandfather’s grandfather’s time, Kyzyl Kaya held sway over this land. He is a true devil, who has found the secrets of the ancients—those who built the ruins that you may have seen near the banks of Black Lake?”

  Ardan nodded, remembering the tomb of Abuk Khan.

  “His power is said to be virtually limitless,” continued the old merchant. “He feasts on the blood of our young men and devours the beauty of our maidens. None are able to resist him.”

  “Well, I almost destroyed him once, when I bombed his citadel on top of Mount Everest, but he managed to escape. This time, I plan to finish the job.”

  “I am poor, but it shan’t be said that I won’t have helped such a brave young man willing to undertake this task,” said the old merchant. “Take this as a present—may it prove useful in your mission,” he added, giving him a small tinder lighter with a wick of amadou.

  Ardan expressed his gratitude as best he could, knowing that, with such an item, he could start fires and cook any game or fish he might catch. After obtaining some directions from the old merchant, he left, walking north towards the Tuvan People’s Republic.

  Several hours later, as the sun approached the highest point in the sky, the young man came across a small river which appeared full of fish. He was able to catch one relatively easily, and cooked it over a small grass fire made with the tinder lighter. It had been a couple of days since he had had a real meal and he enjoyed the fish, drinking water from the river to quench his thirst.

  After eating, he walked all afternoon and again found refuge in a tree. This time, there were no bad surprises and he woke at sunrise feeling perfectly rested.

  He continued on his journey until about 3 p.m. when he came across an unusual sight: a young girl was running across the plain, pursued by a horseman.

  Ardan knew that the nomads who inhabited the region still lived in feudal-like societies, so he wasn’t overly surprised by the scene.

  The horseman caught up with the young woman, grabbed her, threw her across his saddle and rode away. However, a hundred yards or so further, there as the sound of gunfire, loud as a thunderclap, and the rider, shot, fell to the ground.

  Another rider—obviously, the one who had fired the shot—appeared on the scene and took the girl.

  “Either the first one had stolen the girl from
the second man and was shot for it,” Ardan muttered,” or the two men were both in cahoots and argued over her, but either way, I could use that horse...”

  The young man walked towards the first man’s mount, which had stopped and was grazing peacefully. As he passed the first man’s body, he could see that he had been shot through the head. Also, judging from his clothes, he was not one of Kyzyl Kaya’s men.

  Ardan grabbed the deceased’s rifle and had no difficulty in making friends with the horse.

  A few minutes later, he was riding north.

  The trail eventually crossed another forest. As the day was waning, Ardan slowed his horse and kept his gun at the ready, prepared to fight any ambush. But nothing untoward happened and he reached a small clearing with a brook. As he tethered his horse to a tree, preparing to spend the night there, he heard cries—a woman’s—and shouts—a man’s.

  He decided to investigate and, making his way silently through the thicket of trees and bushes, cam to another clearing where he saw a man striking a woman. From their respective outfits, he immediately recognized the second rider and the woman who had been chased earlier.

  The young woman was stunningly beautiful and now that he as closer, Ardan could see that her wrists were bound together by leather straps.

  “You filthy wench!” shouted the man beating her. “How dare you refuse to marry me, I who have slain all your other suitors?”

  “I shan’t marry anyone,” screamed the girl. “Not you—no more than I would have married any of those other alleged suitors whom you killed for nothing!”

  “So you don’t plan to marry at all? You’re an abomination! I shall take you by force, then beat you to death and leave your carcass here for the wolves to devour!”

  As much as prudence advised him to leave local matters alone, Ardan could not ignore the threat to the girl’s life. He grabbed his rifle and stepped forward.

  But unfortunately, due to his anxiety over the girl’s fate, he stepped over a branch of dead wood that cracked loudly under his feet.

  The Tartar immediately punched the young woman in the face and lunged like a wild beast towards Ardan, before the young man could bring his rifle up.

  The two adversaries collided and rolled to the ground. Ardan dropped his rifle in the grass. The Tartar, who now straddled him, pushed against the young man’s chest with one hand, keeping him down, while grabbing a long knife with his other hand, preparing to slit Ardan’s throat.

  But the Tartar was used to fighting on horseback while Ardan had been trained by the best martial arts masters of Europe. The young man’s hands were still free and he delivered two ridged hand strikes to his foe’s temples.

  The Tartar collapsed and dropped like a log, killed instantly by the deadly combined blows.

  Ardan got up and rushed to the side of the young woman, who was barely recovering from the punch she had received.

  “The man who tried to kill you is dead,” he said, slicing through her binds with the dead man’s knife. “But we must get away from here as fast as we can. It wouldn’t be prudent to be found near the body. Fortunately, you can ride his horse. Mine is tethered nearby. Follow me!”

  The young woman smiled weakly through her rears.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I shall follow you.”

  She pulled the other horse to her and followed Ardan as he retraced his steps.

  Soon, they were galloping away into the night, in the direction indicated by the young woman.

  While he rode, Ardan thought about his current situation. He was now in possession of a rifle and a knife and on horseback; thus, he had good hopes of reaching a Russian or Chinese outpost, from which he could summon reinforcements to fight Kyzyl Kaya.

  What puzzled him the most was the identity of his young companion. She was beautiful and clearly refined as she spoke well. Her clothing was of fine manufacture and the simple jewelry she wore was in good taste and obviously valuable. He guessed she must belong to some local nobility. But what was she doing alone in the plains, being chased by two Tartars intent on raping her.

  He took the opportunity of a halt to ask her his questions.

  “My name is Suleyma,” she replied. “You saved my life, and I certainly owe you the answers that you seek. I will tell you my story.”

  CHAPTER XI

  Tiger Attack

  They sat in a clearing, well sheltered from the wind, around a hastily arranged campfire, enjoying roasted game that Ardan had shot earlier. The horses had been fed and were tethered to nearby trees.

  “I already revealed my name to you,” began Suleyma, “but there is much you need to know. First, you shouldn’t be surprised that I speak your tongue so fluently. As a child, I was sent away to Beijing to be educated, and I learned it from the Ladies of the Sacred Heart. I belong to the Yenisei Tarts, also called Abakans. My people live on the left bank of that river. The men of my tribe are resisting the civilizing influence of other cultures, be they Chinese or Russian, and wish to go on living just as they did in the 12th century. My people are nomads, and warlike in their aspirations. To them, women are barely above cattle and they value us only to the extent of being able to trade us to make alliances with other tribes.

  “My parents were different; they had been to the great cities of China and had received educations, which is why, in turn, they sent me to be educated there. But sadly, they died, carried away by a fever, and my uncle assumed parental control over me. He was not a bad man, but was a traditionalist, and when he saw an opportunity to seal an alliance with the neighboring Achin Tartars, he seized it.

  “Our tradition requires that the man who wishes to take me for his bride first send to my father a messenger carrying gifts and the following message: ‘My kunak, that is to say, master, shall be here at sunrise. He will circle your yurt until the angel of his dreams appears.’ By tradition, my uncle had to reply: ‘Tell your kunak that I shall slay him if he gets too close to my daughter and my yurt.’

  “In reality, my uncle had no intention of shooting my suitor, whom he already considered as his son, because he would profit too much from this alliance. That night, I was prepared for the ceremony, bathed, dressed in the finest clothes, given the best jewelry we had, and, in the morning, at sunrise, when the man came riding, I was ushered out of the yurt and left, hands bound, outside.

  “The man grabbed me, dropped me across his saddle, while my uncle came out with his rifle, being mindful to shoot too high so that none of his bullets would accidentally hit either of us. The forms of the ritual having been met, I was now considered married and the wife of the man who had pretended to kidnap me. Next, he was supposed to take me to his own yurt, where I would have been introduced to his family and the marriage consummated.

  “However, before that could happen, something unexpected took place. As we were riding through the prairie, another horseman showed up. He was an avowed enemy of my new kunak, who either had admired me from afar, or simply wished to deny him the gift of my company. They fought and I seized that opportunity to run away. I had no clear plan in mind; just to escape from these men for whom I was less than a prize mare.

  “The newcomer must have gotten the upper hand and killed my ‘husband,’ because he was the one who caught up with me and was beating me when you intervened. Now, you know my story.”

  “Hm,” said Ardan. “And what are your plans now?”

  “I would like to go to Bratsk or Irkutsk, and perhaps find employment there in a school.”

  “That would fit perfectly well with my own plans. I am seeking allies to defeat Kyzyl Kaya, he who is nicknamed the Red Wizard. Have you heard of him?”

  “Only legends. My people never traveled this far south. He is said to be a fearsome demon. Have you truly escaped from his clutches?”

  “Yes. Let me tell you my own story...”

  And Ardan gave Suleyma a brief report of his own adventures. The fearless young girl showed no fear, only curiosity, even during the most frightful
passages, such as the young man’s encounter with the giant spider.

  “That man must have unlocked the secrets of gin-seng,” she remarked, as Ardan was about to finish his tale.

  “Gin-seng? What is that?” asked the young man.

  “It’s a brown root with odd shapes that are not unlike the form of a man. They’re hard to locate and sell for almost as much as gold, pound for pound. That is because gin-seng is said to give strength—and long life. The roots grow hidden amongst the tall grass, deep in the forests. Even animals seek them, and when they smell them in the possession of humans, they often attack them for it. Some claim they’re also guarded by powerful demons...”

  Ardan thought that although some of what Suleyma was telling him was no more than embellished local legends, it was possible that the Red Wizard had indeed found in gin-seng one of the elements that enabled to develop his prodigious discoveries. It wouldn’t be the first time that heretofore unknown herbs from the farthest places in the world had brought miraculous results into modern medicine.

  They woke up at dawn feeling refreshed and in an excellent mood.

  “We’re going to go up the Yenisei,” said Ardan. “I doubt I can get much assistance against Kyzyl Kaya there, but I might get enough resources to travel to China. In Beijing, I know I can find what I need because my father has powerful business partners here.”

  “But the regions we’ll be traveling are under Russian control, not Chinese,” said Suleyma.

  “Officially, that is true, but the reality of it is that they are under no one’s control—the local warlords are the ones who make the law in this part of Asia. Both Moscow and Beijing are too far away to effectively impose their wills upon them. I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone willing to take me to China.”

  They rode peacefully until noon. Then, suddenly, they heard a low growl. The horses stopped and refused to move forward.

  “A tiger!” whispered Suleyma. “Look at these tracks!”

 

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