The Sacred Vault nwaec-6

by Andy McDermott

  ‘Just the three of us,’ Kit said, to everyone’s surprise. ‘If you’re going, I’m going with you.’

  ‘You’ve done a lot for us too, Kit,’ said Nina. ‘You don’t have to do anything else.’

  ‘Oh, but I do. First, does either of you speak Hindi?’ Nina and Eddie shook their heads. ‘You might not get very far without someone who can. Second, until Eddie is fully cleared, I will probably have to take personal responsibility for his actions - and I will have a hard time doing that if he is three hundred kilometres away up a mountain!’

  ‘Will your bosses be okay with that?’ Nina asked. ‘I doubt if searching for the lost vaults of gods is in your job description. ’

  ‘But my job is about more than tracking down lost art,’ Kit reminded her. ‘It also covers the theft of valuable antiquities. And the writings of Lord Shiva himself must surely qualify.’

  Mac light-heartedly raised a finger. ‘They haven’t technically been stolen yet.’

  Kit laughed. ‘Then consider it crime prevention! But you will need my help, and I am happy to give it.’

  ‘Have you got any climbing experience?’ Eddie asked.

  He nodded. ‘And I can get the clothing and equipment we will need.’

  ‘I think we have a team, then,’ said Nina. ‘Kit, thank you.’

  He smiled, then picked up his phone. ‘I have a long call to make to Lyon.’ He entered a number, then went into the next room to hold the conversation in private.

  Eddie looked at the image of Mount Kedarnath on the laptop. ‘You really think it’s there?’

  ‘Yes, I do - and we could be the first people in thousands of years to find it. But we have to get there before the Khoils.’

  Mac leaned forward in his chair. ‘It won’t be easy, Nina. The conditions in those mountains at this time of year will be awful. Eddie may have had survival training, but even so, one wrong step could kill all of you.’

  Eddie snorted. ‘Your pep talks were a lot better back in the Regiment.’

  ‘I’m getting more careful with age. You might want to consider trying it. Both of you.’ He gave them a meaningful look, then stood. ‘Speaking of which, age affects the body as well as the mind, so if you’ll excuse me . . .’ He headed for the bathroom.

  ‘Cheeky old git,’ said Eddie, with a fond look after his former commanding officer. ‘I’m always careful. Ish.’ He noticed how Nina was looking at him. ‘What? Don’t tell me you agree with him.’

  ‘Of course I do, Eddie. We almost got killed at the Khoils’ estate. Several times.’

  ‘Par for the bloody course with us, isn’t it? And being chased up a tree by a tiger’ll make a great story to tell at a pub sometime.’

  ‘And what about the story when you almost got your throat ripped out by a psychopath because you didn’t hear him coming? Will that be on the list too?’

  ‘Yeah, okay, that wasn’t so good. But I still came out on top.’

  ‘Only by sheer luck.’ She took his hands in hers. ‘Eddie, I’m just worried that if you carry on like you always have, and deliberately ignore the fact that it’s affected your hearing—’

  ‘I’m not bloody deaf, all right?’ he snapped. ‘That Pennywisetoothed little bastard got lucky, that’s all.’

  ‘Or you were unlucky,’ said Nina quietly. ‘And you only have to be unlucky once to . . .’ She couldn’t speak the terrible thought.

  He squeezed her hands and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Well, at least it should be nice and quiet up in the mountains, right?’

  21

  ‘So much for quiet,’ said Nina as she stepped off the bus . . . into a noisy crowd.

  From what she had read, she had expected the Himalayan village of Gaurikund to be nothing more than a small pit stop on the way up to Kedarnath. But even with a covering of snow and a chill winter wind, the narrow streets of colourful, tight-packed and high-stacked buildings were bustling with activity.

  ‘They’re pilgrims,’ said Kit. ‘Kedarnath is closed in winter because of the weather - so the priests from the temple all move down to Gaurikund.’

  ‘They close the whole village?’ Eddie asked incredulously, hauling a large rucksack out of the bus. ‘Guess we’re not checking into a hotel once we’re up there, then.’

  ‘I’m afraid not. And we have to walk from here - this is as far as the road goes. It’s another fourteen kilometres to Kedarnath.’

  Eddie looked up the valley. Though shrouded in grey clouds, the looming dark mass of Mount Kedarnath was still discernible, its highest peak over three miles above. ‘Nice weather for it.’

  Nina was more interested in the people. They were of all ages, dressed in everything from utilitarian cold-weather clothing to layers of brightly coloured traditional Indian apparel to simple orange robes that seemed highly unsuited to the cold conditions. ‘They’re all here to pay homage to Shiva?’

  ‘Not all of them,’ Kit replied. ‘Gaurikund is a holy site for other gods as well. There is a hot spring where Shiva first told Parvati that he loved her - people come to bathe in it. It’s also where their son Ganesha was born.’

  ‘He’s the one with an elephant’s head, right?’ said Eddie. Kit nodded.

  ‘I’m impressed,’ said Nina. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘It was in The Simpsons.’

  ‘Ah.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘The source of all modern knowledge.’

  ‘But did Bart and Homer explain why he has an elephant’s head?’ Kit asked Eddie with a smile, getting a negative response. ‘Parvati was bathing in the spring, and Ganesha was standing guard. Shiva arrived unexpectedly - he had been away for a long time, and didn’t recognise Ganesha as his son. Ganesha tried to stop him from seeing Parvati, so Shiva cut off his head.’

  ‘Whoa,’ said Eddie. ‘That’s a bit harsh.’

  ‘Parvati thought so too! She demanded that Shiva bring him back to life. But Shiva couldn’t find the head, so he took the head from an elephant and used that instead. That is one of the stories. As usual, there are many others.’

  Eddie was puzzled. ‘If there’s so many different versions of every story, how do you decide which one to believe?’

  ‘You believe the one that you most believe in,’ said Kit with an amused shrug. ‘It must sound strange to westerners, but it has worked for us for thousands of years.’

  ‘It’s the version the Khoils believe that worries me,’ said Nina. She looked up at the brooding mountain. ‘How do we get to Kedarnath?’

  ‘There’s a path up the valley. I’ll ask someone how to get there.’ Kit stepped into the crowd, asked a man a question in Hindi - and got a look of utter disbelief in return. A second attempt earned him first a laugh, then an expression of concern, most likely for his sanity.

  ‘Okay,’ said Nina, pursing her lips. ‘Maybe it’s a harder journey than we thought.’

  The sound of a scuffle made her turn. The pilgrims parted, backing away from an elderly man with a wild, almost dreadlocked mane of grey hair and a long beard, wearing nothing but an orange robe. He was dancing, sandalled feet skipping through the snow, and waving a gnarled stick at anyone who got too close.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Eddie. ‘He must be freezing!’

  ‘He’s a yogi,’ Nina realised. ‘A holy man. They give away all their possessions and travel through India in search of enlightenment.’

  ‘Maybe, but if I was him, I’d search for it somewhere warmer.’

  The yogi continued his crazy little dance, the onlookers seeming caught between respect for him and annoyance at his antics. He laughed for no particular reason into a man’s face, then spotted Nina and Eddie. He tipped his head with a look of curious recognition and strode over to them.

  ‘Er . . . hello,’ said Nina, drawing back. Though she didn’t want to be uncharitable, the yogi would definitely benefit from a wash in the hot spring.

  He fixed her with an intense gaze, foolish capering replaced by seriousness. ‘I know who you are, and why you
are here,’ he said, his accent thick. ‘Nina Wilde.’

  Nina was shocked. ‘How - how do you know my name?’

  ‘From here, I can watch the entire world,’ he intoned.

  ‘Is that a Hindu saying?’

  ‘No.’ A crazy smile split his face, and he jabbed his stick at a dish on a nearby building. ‘It just means we have satellite TV! Ha ha!’ He danced a brief jig, kicking up slush. ‘I saw you in Egypt, in the Sphinx. “What kept you?” Very funny!’ He laughed again - then before Nina could react he squeezed her breasts.

  ‘Oi!’ Eddie shouted, shoving him back. ‘Fuck off, Yoda!’ He raised a fist.

  Kit hurried over. ‘Eddie, no!’ he cried, interposing himself between the giggling yogi and the aggrieved Englishman. ‘He’s a Pashupati Yogi.’

  ‘I don’t care if he’s Yogi fucking Bear!’ Eddie growled. ‘He just grabbed my wife’s tits - that gets you a smack in the mouth whoever you are.’

  ‘Eddie, it’s okay,’ said Nina, cheeks flushing. ‘No harm done, and . . . well, he’s obviously a little, uh . . .’ She tried to think of a non-offensive term. ‘Eccentric.’

  The yogi cackled. ‘No, no. Rich people are eccentric. I am mad!’

  ‘He’s not mad,’ Kit said impatiently. ‘The Pashupatis are a sect of Shiva worshippers - sometimes called the Order of Lunatics. Some of them pretend to be mad to drive away people who want to associate with a holy man for their own personal gain.’ He turned to the old man. ‘Go on, be on your way.’

  ‘No, wait,’ said Nina. ‘He said he knows who we are—’

  ‘’Cause he saw you on TV,’ Eddie cut in.

  ‘—and why we’re here.’ She addressed the yogi. ‘Why are we here?’

  ‘You seek the Vault of Shiva, of course.’

  The trio exchanged concerned looks. ‘How do you know that?’ Nina asked.

  ‘Why else would you be here? You are the famous Nina Wilde, you search for ancient legends and reveal them to the world. The other legends of this mountain, the pool of Parvati, the Shivalingam, they are all known. So you are looking for the one that is not.’

  ‘Nobody knows the legend of the Vault of Shiva,’ said Kit. ‘Dr Wilde only discovered it recently.’

  The yogi was affronted. ‘I know it! So does everyone who lives here.’ He dropped his voice to a mock whisper. ‘But they will not tell anyone, because it is their great secret.’

  ‘So why’re you telling us?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘Because I am mad!’ He whooped, before becoming serious once more. ‘But you will not find it, Dr Wilde.’

  ‘You seem pretty certain of that,’ she said.

  ‘The Vault of Shiva is not real; it does not exist. Sometimes, a legend is just a legend. You should go home.’

  ‘That’s not really an option. We have to find the Vault. Before someone else does.’

  He eyed her quizzically. ‘Someone in particular?’

  ‘We can’t talk about it. I’m sorry.’

  His gaze revealed a thoughtful intelligence as he considered her words . . . then the crazy mask returned. ‘Everyone has their secrets! Ha! So sad. Nobody with a secret can ever reach the end of the path to enlightenment.’

  ‘The only path we’re bothered about is the one to Kedarnath,’ said Eddie, annoyed. ‘You know where it is?’

  ‘Of course I do! I was born in these mountains, I was married in . . .’ He tailed off, briefly lost in some memory, then faced Nina. ‘You are going up to Kedarnath, though there is nothing to find?’

  ‘Yes, we are.’

  ‘Even in this weather?’ He waved his stick at the cloud-shrouded mountain.

  ‘Yes.’

  He shook his head, muttering something in Hindi. ‘Very well,’ he continued. ‘I will show you the way.’

  ‘I think we can manage, mate,’ Eddie said.

  Nina’s refusal was more gentle. ‘That’s very generous, but we’ll be fine. Thank you.’

  ‘No, no, I insist,’ said the yogi. ‘You need a guide - there are many big falls. And I will find you a warm place to sleep at Kedarnath.’

  ‘I thought there wasn’t anyone there?’ said Kit.

  ‘There is not, but I will still find you a place! Come, come. The path is this way.’ He pointed up the street.

  ‘If you come with us,’ said Nina, ‘you’ll be walking fourteen kilometres up a mountain in the snow - why would you do that for us?’

  He replied as if the answer was perfectly obvious. ‘Because it is the right thing to do! You need help, I am here to help. What other reason could there be? Now come, this way.’

  ‘Are we really going to let him come?’ Eddie asked Nina.

  ‘Can we stop him? I mean, if he wants follow us to Kedarnath, there isn’t much we can do about it.’

  ‘If he gets hypothermia, I’m not carrying him back down the bloody mountain,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Well,’ said Nina, ‘looks like we have a guide, whether we want one or not.’ She picked up her pack. ‘Oh, you didn’t tell us your name, Mr . . .’

  ‘Girilal Mitra,’ the old man said, bowing. ‘Very pleased to be at your service. Now, I hope you have good shoes - it’s a long walk!’ Dancing again, he pushed through the crowd. The trio hesitated, then followed.

  Nina noticed that while the pilgrims were startled by the old man’s behaviour, others whom she assumed to be locals reacted with little more than weary disdain, or even ignored him entirely, as if well used to his antics. ‘So . . . how long have you been on the path to enlightenment?’

  ‘Some paths, you cannot know how long they are until you reach the end,’ said Girilal.

  ‘Very profound, but that’s not what I asked.’

  ‘I know. But here is one path I know well.’ The stick pointed at an arched gate, painted a brick-red, at the foot of a steep flight of steps leading up between the buildings. ‘The way to Kedarnath. Are you sure you want to go?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nina said firmly. ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘I thought so. Well!’ He clapped his hands. ‘Let us begin!’

  Fourteen kilometres is just over eight and a half miles, and Nina had traversed similar distances across rough terrain with relative ease in the past. The difference here was that barely a yard of the trek was on the flat. Before they were a mile from Gaurikund her legs were aching from the constant, punishing climb up the steep snow-covered path. Kit was faring better, but not by much, and even Eddie, laden with the largest pack, was starting to show signs of strain.

  The ascent didn’t appear to bother Girilal, however. He hummed a tune as he strolled, and even occasionally skipped, along. A shrill wind whistled down the slope, flapping the hem of his grubby robe.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re not cold,’ said Nina. Even with the exertion of the walk, she was glad of her thick hooded jacket and weatherproof trousers. ‘Do you use some mind-over-matter meditation technique?’

  ‘Oh, nothing like that,’ he said cheerily. ‘I am cold. I just don’t show it!’

  Eddie grunted disapprovingly. ‘Deliberately risking frostbite is pretty fucking stupid, mate. Why do it? Getting rid of your worldly goods is one thing, but does Shiva say you’ve got to torture yourself?’

  ‘How I serve my penance is my choice,’ Girilal replied, for the first time since they had met him revealing a hint of negative emotion - not so much anger as sorrow.

  ‘Penance for what?’ Nina asked.

  ‘For my sins, of course. I cannot reach enlightenment until Lord Shiva has forgiven me for everything bad I have done.’

  ‘The Catholic way’s easier,’ said Eddie. ‘Quick confession, couple of Hail Marys, and you’re sorted.’

  ‘Like you’ve ever been to confession,’ joked Nina. ‘You’d be in there for hours! The priests would have to work in shifts.’

  ‘Don’t make me add clipping my wife round the ear to my list.’ Girilal resumed his humming, leading the way. The trees became sparser as they ascended, the unobstructed wind picking up. Along the way
they passed a few tiny settlements, handfuls of huts huddled together - all without roofs. Nina at first thought they were derelict, until Girilal explained that the merchants inhabiting the little hamlets moved down the mountain during the winter; when Kedarnath was closed to pilgrims and tourists, they had no customers. The roofs were removed to prevent them from collapsing under the weight of snow.

  The clouds closed in, the valley disappearing into a grey haze. Kit read a Hindi sign as they stopped to rest. ‘Four kilometres to go.’

  ‘We’ve only walked six miles?’ said Nina in breathless disbelief. ‘It feels like sixty!’

  Once recovered, they carried on up the slope, which became steeper and rockier. By now, they were above the tree line, the only vegetation small bushes poking out from the snow. The dampness of the surrounding clouds intensified the cold still further. Nina tried to offer Girilal a blanket, but he refused, resolutely picking out the path ahead of them.

  Another marker post, and another. Although the mountainside was getting no steeper, the climb became harder as the air thinned. Their rest stops increased in length and frequency. The last marker; one kilometre to go. They kept ascending. Then . . .

  ‘Look at that!’ said Nina, awed. They emerged from the fog - and for the first time since arriving in the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand, she was able to see the true majesty of the Himalayas.

  Lower down, the mountains had been little more than ominous shadows, concealed in the murky clouds. But now she could see them clearly, lit by the stark winter sun. The sawtoothed main peak of Mount Kedarnath itself dominated the view, its lower, secondary summit off to the west, but even with the valley’s sides obscuring the surrounding landscape she could take in other snow-covered mountains rising beyond. She had been in the Himalayas before, but circumstances had not been conducive to sightseeing. This time, she was truly able to appreciate their scale.

  Eddie was not so impressed. ‘Yeah, it looks pretty amazing,’ he said, ‘but you won’t like it so much when you try to climb the bugger.’ He pointed to the northeast. The ridge they had seen on Kit’s laptop was revealed for real, more jagged and imposing than its computer-generated counterpart. ‘We’ve got to get up that.’