The girl who had jumped in was Pema. Despite her slim, almost ethereal build, and the fact that she was tied at the ankles, she took on her jailer with suicidal determination, ignoring the whip the woman was wielding blindly, and the imminent threat of the scorpions. Pema pounded the woman with her fists, bit her, and pulled her hair, fighting for her life; the girl was at a clear disadvantage, because the woman was stronger, and by now she had dropped the whip and pulled out the kitchen knife she wore at her waist. Pema’s actions gave Dil Bahadur the opportunity to drop his bow, seize a tin of the kerosene the bandits used in their lamps, pour the combustible fluid on the ground, and light it with a twig from the fire. A curtain of flames and thick smoke swirled up, singeing his eyelashes.
Indifferent to the fire, the prince ran to Pema, who was on her back on the ground with the evil woman on top of her, straining with both hands to hold back the knife inching closer and closer to her face. The tip of the knife was scratching Pema’s cheek, as the prince grabbed the woman around the neck, pulled her back, and with one chop to the temple knocked her unconscious.
Pema sat up and desperately slapped at the flames licking her long skirt, but the silk was blazing like dry tinder. With one tug the prince yanked off the skirt and then turned to the other girls who were huddled against the wall and crying with terror. Using the woman’s knife, Pema cut through her bonds and then helped Dil Bahadur free her companions. She led them through the curtain of fire—where charred scorpions were twisting and crackling—toward the entrance to the cave, now filling with smoke.
Tensing, the prince, and Alexander dragged their prisoners outside and left them tightly tied two by two, back to back. Borobá took advantage of the bandits’ defenselessness to make fun of them, tossing clods of dirt at them and sticking out his tongue, until Alexander called him. The monkey leapt to his shoulders, curled his tail around his neck, and clamped onto his ears. Alex sighed with resignation.
Dil Bahadur took the clothes from one of the bandits and handed his monk’s habit to Pema, who was half-naked. It was so big on her that she had to fold it over twice around her waist. With great revulsion, the prince put on the black, stinking clothes of a Blue Warrior. Although he would have preferred a thousand times over to wear only his loin cloth, he knew that as soon as the sun set and the temperature fell, he would need some protection. He was so impressed with Pema’s courage and self-possession that giving her his tunic seemed the least he could do. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The girl acknowledged his gesture with a shy smile, and wrapped herself in the rough, dark red habit typical of the monks of her country, never suspecting that she was wearing the clothing of the heir to the throne.
Tensing interrupted the emotion-charged glances between Dil Bahadur and Pema to ask the girl what she had heard in the cave. She confirmed what he already suspected: The other members of the band were planning to steal the Golden Dragon and kidnap the king.
“I understand the first part of the plan, the statue is very valuable, but not the second. What do they want of the king?” the prince asked.
“I do not know,” she replied.
Tensing quickly studied the aura of the prisoners in order to select the most vulnerable, and planted himself before him, piercing him with a penetrating gaze. The always-sweet expression of his eyes had changed completely: the pupils had narrowed to slits and the man had the sensation that he was facing a snake. Tonelessly, the lama recited some words in Sanskrit that only Dil Bahadur recognized, and in less than a minute the frightened bandit was in Tensing’s power, sunk in a hypnotic trance.
The lama’s questions clarified certain aspects of the Sect of the Scorpion’s plan, and confirmed that it was already too late to stop the band from getting into the palace. The man did not believe that they had harmed the king; the American’s instructions had been to take him alive, they needed him. That was all the Blue Warrior knew. The most important information they gained was that the sovereign and the statue would both be taken to the abandoned monastery of Chenthan Dzong.
“How do they think they can escape from there?” the prince asked, surprised. “It’s in the middle of nowhere.”
“By air,” the bandit said.
“They must have a helicopter,” Alexander put in. Even though he did not know the language, from the images forming in his mind he was able to grasp the broad outlines of what was being discussed. These pictures conveyed most of the communication between the lama and the prince, until Pema was able to fill in details.
“Are they referring to Tex Armadillo?” asked Alexander.
He could not get a clear answer, because the bandits knew him only as “the American,” and Pema had never seen him.
Tensing brought the man out of his hypnotic trance and announced that they were going to leave the bandits there, after making sure they could not work free from their bonds. It wouldn’t hurt them to spend one or two nights outdoors, until they were found by the royal guard or, if they were lucky, their own men. Joining his hands before his face, and bowing slightly, the lama apologized to his prisoners for the discourteous way he had treated them. Dil Bahadur did the same.
“I will pray that you are rescued before black bears, snow leopards, or tigers find you,” Tensing said with all seriousness.
Alexander was intrigued by this show of courtesy. If the situation had been reversed and they had been the victims, those men would have murdered them without a hint of a bow.
“Perhaps we should go to the monastery,” Dil Bahadur proposed.
“What shall we do with the girls?” Alexander asked, indicating Pema and her friends.
“Possibly,” Pema offered, “I can lead them back to the valley and advise the king’s troops to join you at the monastery.”
“I don’t think it would be wise to use the bandits’ trail; they must have men posted through these mountains. You will have to take a shortcut,” Tensing replied.
“My master has forgotten the cliff,” the prince murmured.
The lama smiled. “Perhaps the cliff is not an entirely bad idea, Dil Bahadur.”
“Possibly my master is joking?”
The lama’s answer was a broad smile that lit up his face, and he motioned for the young people to follow him. They went back the way they had come, in order to rejoin Nadia. Tensing went first, helping the girls, who had great difficulty making their way, dressed as they were in sandals and sarongs. They had no experience at all in moving across such steep terrain, but no one complained. They were too grateful to have been rescued from the Blue Warriors, and the gigantic monk inspired absolute confidence.
Alexander, who brought up the rear after the prince and Pema, took one last look at the pathetic group of bandits they were leaving behind. It seemed incredible to him that he had been part of a skirmish with professional killers: It was like a scene from an action film. He had just survived something nearly as violent as his experience in the Amazon, when Indians and soldiers clashed and left several people dead, or when he had seen a couple of bodies that had been destroyed by the claws of the Beasts. He could not smother his smile; definitely, traveling with his grandmother Kate was not for softies.
Nadia watched her friends walking single file along the steep path that led to her hiding place, and ran out to meet them, greatly relieved that they were back. She stopped when she saw one of the Blue Warriors in the group. A second look told her it was Dil Bahadur. They had taken less time than they’d expected, but those few hours had seemed endless to her. During that time she had summoned her totemic animal with the hope that she could watch them from the air, but the white eagle had not appeared, and she’d had to resign herself to waiting with a knot in her throat. She learned that she could not transform herself into the great bird on a whim; that happened only in moments of great danger or of extraordinary mental clarity. The eagle represented her spirit, the essence of her character. When she’d had her first experience with her totemic animal in the Amazon, she’d been very surprise
d that it was a bird, since she suffered from vertigo and heights paralyzed her with fear. She had never dreamed of flying, like other young people she knew. If anyone had asked her what her totemic spirit might be, she would have answered, a dolphin, of course; that intelligent and playful animal was something she could identify with. The eagle, which flew with such grace above the highest peaks, had helped her a lot in overcoming her phobia, although sometimes she was still afraid of heights. At that very moment, the sight of the steep cliffs yawning at her feet made her tremble.
“Jaguar!” she called, and ran toward her friend.
Alexander’s first impulse was to throw his arms around her, but he stopped in time; he didn’t want the others to think that Nadia was his girlfriend or anything like that.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Not much,” he replied with a gesture of feigned indifference.
“How did you free the girls?”
“Easy. We disarmed the bandits, beat them up, burned the scorpions, smoked out the cave, tortured one of the men to get information, and left the rest tied up without water or food to die a slow death.”
Nadia stood open-mouthed until Pema gave her a hug. The two girls quickly exchanged details about everything they’d gone through since they were separated.
“Do you know anything about that monk?” Pema whispered into Nadia’s ear, pointing to Dil Bahadur.
“Not much.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dil Bahadur.”
“That means ‘brave heart,’ an appropriate name. Perhaps I will marry him,” Pema said.
“But you just met him! And he already asked you to marry him?” Nadia whispered, laughing.
“No. Usually monks don’t marry. But possibly I will ask him if I get a chance,” Pema replied casually.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Cliff
TENSING DECIDED THAT THEY should eat something and rest before planning how to get the girls down to the floor of the valley. Dil Bahadur commented that there wasn’t enough flour and yak butter for everyone, but he offered his meager provisions to Pema and the girls, who hadn’t eaten in many hours. Tensing asked him to build a fire to boil water for tea and to melt yak butter. As soon as that was ready, the monk dug into the folds of his tunic, where he usually carried his beggar’s pouch, and, like a magician, began to extract handfuls of cereal, garlic, dried vegetables, and other foods for their meal.
“This is like the loaves and fishes you read about in the New Testament,” Alexander commented, amazed.
“My master is a very holy man. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him work miracles,” said the prince, bowing with profound respect before the lama.
“Perhaps your master is not so holy as he is quick with his hands, Dil Bahadur. There were great stores of provisions in the bandits’ cave, and I didn’t want to waste them,” the lama replied, bowing in turn.
“My master stole?” exclaimed the disciple, unbelieving.
“Let us say that your master borrowed,” said Tensing.
The young people exchanged a puzzled glance and then burst out laughing. This explosion of happiness worked like opening a valve through which the terrible anxiety and fear they had lived with for days could escape. Soon all of them were on the ground, rocking with uncontainable laughter while the lama amiably stirred the tsampa pot and served tea without any change in his serene face.
Finally the young people calmed down, but the minute the master served their austere meal, they doubled over again, unable to stop laughing.
“Possibly when you come to your senses, you will listen to my plan,” Tensing said, patient as ever.
The plan put an end to any idea of humor. What the lama proposed was nothing less than to lower the girls down the cliff face. They took one look over the edge and backed away, breathless: before them was approximately two hundred and forty feet of vertical fall.
“Master, no one has ever gone down there,” said Dil Bahadur.
“Perhaps the moment has come for someone to be the first,” Tensing replied.
All the girls started crying except Pema, who from the beginning had been an example of strength to the others, and Nadia, who right there and then decided she would rather die in the hands of the bandits or freeze in a glacier up at the peak than go down the face of that precipice. Tensing explained that if the girls used the shortcut, they could reach a village in the valley and ask for help before nightfall the next day. Otherwise, they would be stuck where they were and also run the risk that a band from the scorpion sect would find them. It was important to return the girls to their homes and to warn General Myar Kunglung so he could rescue the king from the fortified monastery before the bandits killed him. As for the master and Dil Bahadur, they would go on ahead in order to reach Chenthan Dzong as quickly as they could.
Alexander did not take part in the discussion, but began to study the matter. What would his father do in such a situation? Surely John Cold would find a way not only to get down the cliff but back up as well. His father had climbed steeper mountains than this, and had done it in midwinter, sometimes for pure sport and other times to help climbers who had met with an accident or become trapped. John was a cautious and methodical man, but no danger would stop him when it was a matter of saving a life.
“I think I can go down if I use my rappelling equipment,” he said.
“How many feet is it?” Nadia asked, taking care not to look down.
“A lot. My rope won’t reach that far, but there are several outcroppings, like ledges; we can stairstep the descent,” Alex explained.
“It may be possible,” Tensing replied, who had formulated his audacious plan after watching Alexander rescue Nadia from the ravine she’d fallen into.
“It’s risky, but with luck I can do it; how, though, will we get these girls down? They have no experience in mountain climbing,” said Alexander.
“Possibly we will think of a way to do it,” the lama replied, and immediately asked for silence; it had been many hours since he had prayed.
While Tensing meditated, sitting on a rock facing the infinite heavens, Alexander measured his rope, counted his pitons, tested his harness, calculated his possibilities, and discussed the best way of carrying out this risky maneuver with the prince.
“If only we had a kite!” Dil Bahadur sighed.
He told his foreign friends that in the Kingdom of the Golden Dragon they practiced the ancient art of making silk kites in the form of birds with two sets of wings. Some were large and strong enough to carry a man standing between the wings. Tensing was an expert in that sport, and he had taught his disciple. The prince remembered his first flight a couple of years before, when during a visit to a monastery he had crossed between two mountains utilizing air currents that allowed him to steer his fragile craft while six monks held onto the end of the kite’s long cord.
“You could die doing that,” said Nadia.
“It isn’t as difficult as it seems,” the prince assured her.
“It must be like piloting a glider,” Alexander commented.
“An airplane with wings of silk. I don’t think I’d like to try that,” Nadia said, thankful that there weren’t any kites available.
Tensing prayed that the wind would be calm, for that would affect their attempt at a descent. He also prayed that the American boy had sufficient experience and determination, and that the others’ courage would not falter.
“It’s difficult to estimate the height from here, Master Tensing, but if my ropes will reach that narrow terrace you see down there, I can do it,” Alexander assured him.
“And the girls?”
“I will lower them one by one.”
“Except me,” Nadia interrupted firmly.
“Nadia and I want to go with you and Dil Bahadur to the monastery,” said Alexander.
“Who will take the girls on to the valley?” asked the lama.
“Perhaps the honorable master will allow me
to do that,” said Pema.
“Five girls? Alone?” interrupted Dil Bahadur.
“Why not?”
“That is your decision, Pema, no one else’s,” said Tensing, confident after observing the girl’s golden aura.
“Possibly any of you can do it better than I can, but if the master authorizes me and will support me with his prayers, perhaps I can carry out my part with honor,” the girl offered.
Dil Bahadur was pale. He had decided, with the unshakable certainty of first love, that Pema was the only woman in the world for him. The fact that he had never known others, and that his experience was zero, did not enter into his thoughts. He was afraid that Pema would fall to her death from the cliff, or, should she reach the bottom safe and sound, that she would get lost or encounter other dangers. There were tigers in that region, and he could not get the Sect of the Scorpion out of his mind.
“It’s very dangerous,” he said.
“Perhaps my disciple has decided to go with the girls?” asked Tensing.
“No, master, I must help you rescue the king,” the prince murmured, lowering his eyes with embarrassment.
The lama led him aside, where the others couldn’t hear.
“You must have faith in her. Her heart is as valiant as yours, Dil Bahadur. If it is your karma to be together, it will happen no matter what. If that is not to be, nothing you do can change the course of your life.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to spend my life with her, master!”
Tensing smiled. “Perhaps it is not necessary for you to say so.”
Alexander decided to use the remaining daylight hours in preparing for the next day. First of all, he had to be sure that with his two fifty-yard ropes he could make the descent. He spent half an hour explaining to the others the basic principles of rappelling, from how to wear the harness, which they would sit in as they went down, to techniques for releasing and stopping the rope. The second rope would be used as a safety line. He didn’t need it, but it would be indispensable for the girls.