by Nick Carter
I scrambled to my feet as he regained his, and now I saw him move warily toward me. The first surprise attack had sent the rifle skittering off along the ledge and Wilhelmina was buried under my parka and sweater. The tight wristlets of the parka kept me from dropping Hugo into my palm. His small eyes were but glittering pinpoints in the moonlight, and his arms held half outstretched gave no sign of what his next move would be. I shifted my glance to his feet, saw him shift his weight to his right foot, move forward and try a grab for me. I ducked to the left and swung. This time I connected and he went backwards and down, sliding hard into the stone back of the ledge. I went after him and my foot flew out from under me on a piece of ice-coated rock. I fell, grabbed at the edge and pushed myself back from it. He was on his feet again and aiming a kick at my head. I managed to avoid it, grabbed his foot and yanked, and he came down hard beside me. We grappled, and I pushed him back away from the edge, but he was wiry and fought with a deadly desperation. I tried a karate chop along the side of his neck but the thickness of his parka deadened the effect. He tore himself from my grip, whirled away and when he turned, I saw the glint of the moon on the long, curved knife blade. He came in fast and slashed down with the curved blade. It tore a gaping hole in the front of my parka that ran the entire length of the garment. I fell back as he slashed again with the blade, wickedly bringing it down in a hook, and once again I felt it slash into the bulky parka. He had ruined the parka but he'd also opened a convenient hole in it I reached through, yanked Wilhelmina out and fired. He was coming at me again when the big 9mm slugs hit him, and he stiffened, staggered backwards and collapsed. He was dead before I walked over to him.
I searched him but found nothing. His parka was too small to fit me but it would do to stuff into the gaping holes he'd slashed in mine. I stripped it from his lifeless form and stuffed it into the front of my own where the bitter wind had already found its way through.
I had little choice but to try and make my way back to where I'd started to build a fire in the pass. To go on would mean becoming hopelessly lost and risking certain death. As I began to pick my way back carefully, trying to remember the way we'd come, I wondered whether the real guide who was to meet me would eventually show up. They had gotten their assassin to reach me early, but maybe they'd also slain the real guide. I could do nothing but wait and see. I retrieved the rifle from where it had skittered away and proceeded downward once again, retracing our route with only a few minor mistakes. My little pyramid of wood was still there, undisturbed, and I managed to get the fire going quickly, reveling in its warmth. I huddled by the fire while the wind mounted in intensity as the night deepened, and I dozed off a few times. I was wakened once by the howl of a snow leopard prowling the blackness of the night.
It was past midnight when I heard the faint sound of footsteps on the snow, a soft, crunching sound. I slithered back out of the circle of light made by the fire and brought the big Marlin around, my finger on the trigger. Peering into the moonlit pass I saw the figure approaching slowly. I waited until the figure, also bundled up in furred hat and thick parka, neared the fire, and then I moved forward, rifle aimed at it.
"Stay right there," I commanded. The figure halted and I walked up to it. As I approached I saw that the newcomer was small, not much higher than my shoulder.
"What do you do here?" I asked. "Are you passing through?"
"I come to take you to my father," the answer came in a soft, liquid voice. I lowered the rifle.
"A girl?" I exclaimed in astonishment. She moved forward and I saw a small, smooth young face peering out from beneath the big, furry hat and the upturned collar of the parka. I could make out a small, pert nose and soft brown almond eyes. She sank down beside the fire wearily.
"Do not be surprised," she commented in perfect English, just the trace of a British accent in her tone. "The Sherpa women can outclimb and outwalk any of the men. I am not one of the Sherpa, but I have grown up in these mountains."
"Surprises seem to be a part of your country," I said, sinking down beside her. "I've already had one tonight." I quickly told her of the other guide who had come for me and I heard her draw her breath in sharply.
"A thousand apologies to you," she said. "My father will be heartsick to hear of this. We were afraid something like it might happen but we were helpless to prevent it. Only three days ago we found out that one of our servants who had relayed messages between my father and Mr. Angsley belonged to Ghotak's Snake Society. That is why he sent me off to meet you at once. He knew he could have trust in me."
She was warming her hands before the fire, and I put on some more wood. Even bundled up in the shapeless layers of clothing there was something petite about her, and her movements as she stretched before the flames were fluid and graceful.
"I am Khaleen," she announced simply. "Only daughter of the House of Leeunghi and, since the death of my mother, woman of my father's home."
"And I'm Nick, Nick Carter, Khaleen," I replied. "You speak perfect English. Where did you learn?"
"I studied in England as a young girl," she said. "I returned at the death of my mother. We await your coming with great hopes born of desperation. Ghotak is close to victory."
I smiled grimly. "I'll give it everything I can," I answered. "I've already got one personal score to settle with this Ghotak cat. Hired assassins sent to kill me make me more than a little annoyed."
Khaleen smiled, her teeth beautifully even and white. She was studying me with a wisdom in her eyes that was born not of experience but of heritage.
"I think that if there is still time, you will find a way to help us, Mr. Carter," she said slowly.
"Nick," I corrected her. She smiled again and moved closer to me. I wished I could see more of her than the tiny piece of her face showing through the layers of clothing.
"We will rest a few hours by the fire before starting the trip back," she said. "We will lie close together for added warmth." She lay down in front of the fire and gently pulled me down beside her. Turning on her side so that we lay back to back, she immediately fell into a sound sleep. As I lay awake a while longer I realized the truth of her actions. Even through the heavy clothing, I could feel the warmth of her body against mine. I fell asleep shortly after, the rifle cradled in my arms.
It was still dark when I felt her stir and I awoke.
"We will start back now," she said. "It is a long and hard trip." We threw some snow on the fire and I found myself following her at an amazing pace. Her small form moved gracefully and easily through the pass, down steep ridges and along rocky ledges so narrow we had to progress inch by inch, each step an invitation to sudden death. When night came again, we were lower down in the mountains, and I saw greenery. The temperature had abated somewhat. The fire was still welcome, however, and we ate the dried meat in my pack. We had spoken very little during the trip, conserving our breath and our energies. When we finally encamped, we were both too exhausted to do anything but sleep, and in the morning we were off to an early start again. Khaleen had timed things so that we slipped into Katmandu by night, and she skirted around quiet, dark streets to bring me finally to the door of a big wooden house with the traditional pagoda-like roof supported by strong timbers. She opened the door and beckoned for me to follow. Inside, she called out in her native tongue. I heard sounds from an adjoining room, and through the doorless archway I saw the man whose picture I'd seen on the film. He walked in with brisk steps and bowed briefly. I did the best I could in my bulky outfit.
He helped me off with my things while Khaleen spoke quickly to him, and when she'd finished he looked up at me with deep, round eyes. "I apologize that your introduction to our land was one of death," he said. His eyes roved up and down my frame, towering and appearing even bigger in the low-roofed room.
"You are an impressive man, Mr. Carter," he said. "It is good. The people are easily led, easily impressed. Come, let us go in and sit down. We have much to discuss."
I noticed tha
t Khaleen had disappeared as I followed the patriarch into a warm room with dark wood paneling and a stone stove set in one wall, a blazing fireplace in the other. Gleaming copper and brass urns, trays and pots were set into wooden niches, and a thick rug lay casually across the floor. We sat on low, blanket-covered stools and benches and the patriarch poured tea into pewter mugs.
"Tomorrow night there is to be a Spirit Meeting to Karkotek at Ghotak's temple hall," the old man said. "I fear it will be more than your eyes have witnessed, young man."
"These eyes have witnessed a helluva lot," I commented.
"During such a meeting, Ghotak inflames the people to mass eroticism," Leeunghi went on. "When they are in the throes of their erotic sensations he will encourage more and more of this mass psychological phenomenon until the people are spent and exhausted. Then his Snake Society men will pass the petition to the king among them to sign and of course they will do so."
"You have a plan to prevent this, I take it?"
"The only possible one at the moment," the old man said. "I will introduce you as an old friend when the gathering assembles, one who comes from a far-away land with news of Karkotek. The Spirit of Karkotek roams across the face of the earth, according to legend."
"And I'll tell the people that Karkotek has given no sign that he favors Ghotak's position," I chimed in.
"Precisely," Leeunghi agreed. "Ghotak will argue and threaten. I do not know exactly what he will come up with but he will fight hard, you may be sure. The important thing is that we maneuver him into a position where he cannot get his petition signed at the end of the ritual."
"I've got it," I said. "Hell hold the ritual in any case, right?"
"That is correct," the patriarch said. "He cannot deny the people the ritual. But we must deny him his objective, whatever the price."
"Do you think they will really pay any attention to me?" I asked. "After all, I'm a total stranger to them."
"They will listen to you because first, you come as my friend and I am respected here," he answered. "And then, because you, having heard of Ghotak's claim, have come all this distance to speak out against it."
I smiled. I was beginning to see the intricate, wily twists and turns of the old man's mind, plainly learned and wise in the ways of his people. He stood up abruptly.
"Your room is upstairs and a bath is waiting for you there," he smiled. "The Western-style bathtub is a convenience I became used to during my days in the British army. I think my home is perhaps one of the very few in all this region with such conveniences, outside of the Royal Palace."
"Speaking of Royal Palaces," I said, "where does the King fit into this?"
"He prays for our success, but he must remain in the background," Leeunghi said. "If we fail to stop Ghotak, he will be forced to accede to his demands."
The old man and I exchanged bows and I went into my room which was small but comfortable, with a wide bed covered by a thick blanket of goat's fur. The bath was in a tiny cubicle adjoining the room, really only large enough to hold the bathtub itself and a towel rack. The water was already in the tub and I let the warmth relax my aching muscles. I'd just dried myself off and was stretched out under the goat's fur blanket when there was a knock at my door and Khaleen entered. I sat up in surprise. She wore a light blue robe of filmy material and her hair hung loose in black cascades down to her shoulders. Her face, freed of the parka, was ivory smooth with high, wide cheekbones set off by the delicately shaped almonds of her eyes. Her lips, wet and moist now, glistened in loveliness. Though small, her breasts thrust out sharply through the robe and she stood before me, a jewel-like, shimmering delicacy radiating from her. She sat down beside me on the wide bed and I could see she wore nothing beneath the robe. The tips of her breasts were pinpoints of provocativeness though she was seemingly unaware of this.
She placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back onto the bed. "Please turn over," she said. I did so and she began to massage my back and neck and shoulders with a touch that combined delicacy and strength.
"Is this a custom?" I asked in curiosity.
"To those guests who have journeyed far and long to visit us," she remarked. I lay quietly, relaxing and enjoying the sensuous touch of her hands as she massaged my body. I'd been massaged before but Khaleen's hands caressed as well as massaged, and I wondered if she knew it. I turned my head to watch her and she smiled at me as she kept on with her task. She drew the fur blanket down and her hands smoothed the skin at the base of my spine, pressing soothingly down on the nerve endings clustered there. Then, gently, she turned me over and rubbed my chest while I watched the dancing light from the flickering oil lamp play on her intent face. Finally, finished, she drew the blanket up over my chest. I caught her wrist and she sat quietly, making no movement to pull away.
"You're a very beautiful creature, Khaleen," I said. "Do you know that?" She smiled, a wise, Asiatic smile, and I had my answer. Like all women everywhere, she knew her charms all too well. She drew both hands softly across the top of my chest, up to my neck and then down again.
"You have a beautiful body," she said softly. She got up, smiled, blew a kiss at me and was gone on soft, soundless steps. I fell asleep instantly and slept like a baby.
When morning came I was surprised at how warm the day was in the valley. I needed only a shirt and a light windbreaker as I went for a walk through the streets. The old man had breakfasted with me, and I'd caught glimpses of Khaleen flitting silently through the house. After breakfast I went out to get some local color. I'd walked only a few blocks when I came to the imposing temple and the long, low assembly hall behind it. Ghotak, looking as he had on the films I saw in Hawk's office, came down the steps accompanied by three fairly tall, bare-armed men in royal blue balloon-sleeved shirts, open down to the waist. I had the impression he'd been waiting inside the door for me to come along. His timing was too good. He came directly at me and his imperious face was cold and set. He nodded, disdaining the usual bow.
"The friend of the Leeunghi House has come," he said, a sneer on his lips. "We were expecting you."
"Really?" I said. "Somehow, I got the idea you weren't."
His eyes moved slightly but his face remained impassive.
"You would be well advised not to interfere with affairs that are not your concern," he said. He, too, had obviously learned his English in the British schools that once dotted the land. Peering into his cold, deep eyes, I saw at once that there was no chance of this man being anything but an enemy, so I decided to play it straight.
"You're telling me to mind my own business," I said.
He shrugged. "Put it more crudely, if you wish," he said. "You of the Western world seem obsessed with crudity."
"And you of the Eastern world seem obsessed with power," I replied. "Thanks for the advice. I'll remember to forget it."
He couldn't keep the flash of anger from flaring in his eyes as he turned and walked back into the temple. He spoke to his three aides and they turned to me.
"You will come with us," the tallest one said, his voice low and tense. "If you do not come quietly we will let it be known that you have insulted the lama. In minutes, a crowd will gather to tear you limb from limb."
I weighed the threat and decided there was probably something to it. But I was more interested in finding out what they had in mind. I fell in beside them. One led the way while the other two flanked me. I was led alongside the low meeting house, around the back of it and into a small, tree-shrouded clearing.
"Ghotak has decided that you have come to make trouble," the tallest one said, facing me. "It becomes necessary to make you realize how wrong you will be to do this. Ghotak is sorry he must teach you so severe a lesson."
I smiled inwardly. It was a different approach but I knew the tactics would be the same. They intended to give me a good going-over. Almost as one, they reached inside their loose shirts and each one drew out a narrow length of cured bamboo, about the thickness of a riding quirt. The leade
r of the trio raised his hand and came down with it. I heard it whistle as it went through the air, turned away and raised my arm in defense. I felt the painful slash as it struck and felt the immediate trickle of blood on my arm. I moved back and smiled. Silent but nasty little weapons, I saw. The tallest one moved in again and now the other two were about to start slashing with their rods.
"Wait a minute " I said. They stopped dutifully. Maybe Ghotak thought his assassin had missed connections with me, but he was about to learn differently. Maybe these three were bully-boys in Nepal but compared to the kind I was used to handling, they were strictly bush-league. I had to smile as I saw them standing there, waiting for what I was going to say.
I sighed and then, with the speed of a cat, I whirled and hit the one on the right with a tremendous solar-plexus blow. I saw his eyes bulge as he grabbed at his stomach and doubled over. Without stopping my motion I whirled, dived and caught the leader of the trio around the knees. I yanked hard and he went over backwards. The third one had recovered enough to slash at me with his bamboo wand. I took the slash on my shoulder, grabbed his arm and twisted. He yelped and half turned around as I applied pressure. I let go long enough to chop him alongside the neck and he collapsed. The tallest one had regained his feet now, minus his little weapon. He came at me and twisted to kick high and out. The blow caught me on the hip as I turned my body. When he got his leg down on the ground he was off balance. I connected with a roundhouse right and felt his jaw crack. He sailed backwards into a tree and shuddered his way to the ground against the trunk. The one I'd gotten in the solar plexus was on his knees, just starting to regain some breath. I grabbed him, yanked him to his feet and gave him a punch that split his cheek open. The blood spurted from the wound as he hit the ground. I dragged the third one over to where the first two lay almost side by side. The tallest one was dazed but conscious. I yanked his head up by the hair.