The Sacred Vault (28 page)

Perversely, the last few feet were the hardest, the steep, snow-slicked slope offering no handholds. Eddie kicked his toes hard into the frozen scree, dragging Nina after him. His outstretched hand, already numbing, touched something solid.

The wall of the pass. They had made it—

And were no better off. The split in the ridge was barely eight feet wide at its foot - and it acted as a channel for the storm. The vicious wind chill made the temperature plummet. Within moments, the group’s backs were coated in snow and ice, their clothing flapping like flags in a hurricane.

‘Keep moving!’ Eddie gasped. If they stayed in the natural wind tunnel, they would freeze to death in minutes - there was no chance of erecting a tent in time, even if it could withstand the storm. One arm over his face, he reached back with the other to pull Nina along. Kit held on to her backpack, stumbling in their wake.

Now Eddie understood why this part of the mountain had such a fearsome reputation. The pass was an obvious short cut - but if the weather changed suddenly, it could become a deathtrap.

How long was the pass? He lowered his arm, the cold biting at his eyes. Nothing visible except wind-driven snow streaming past.

He squeezed Nina’s hand, hoping to feel her do the same in return, but got no response. Another look ahead as he staggered on. Still nothing visible but the disorienting hyperspace tunnel of rushing snowflakes. He could feel ice forming on his eyelashes, freezing them together.

He used his elbow to find the wall. There might be some nook, a fallen boulder, a tiny cave that could provide just enough shelter for them all to huddle inside until the storm passed. But he felt nothing except solid rock . . .

The wind suddenly changed, blowing at him not from behind, but from the side. A tornado of snowflakes whipped round him. Forcing his ice-crusted eyes open, he looked round. The rock walls seemed no different from the rest of the pass.

Why had the wind shifted? Something was diverting it - maybe even blocking it. Shelter. But he still couldn’t see anything—

He looked up - and found it.

About seven feet above in the eastern cliff was a fissure, a horizontal slash in the rock. Roughly five feet high, and deep enough that nothing but shadow was visible within. If they could all squeeze inside . . .

He turned, taking the icy blast directly into his face as he shouted to Nina and Kit. ‘Cave . . . up there! Nina, climb up!’

She pushed her hood against his. Even that close, he could barely hear her over the wind. ‘Can’t feel . . . hands.’

‘It’s our only chance! Come on!’ He shoved her to the wall. ‘Kit, help her up!’

The two men took hold of Nina and lifted her. ‘Reach up!’ Eddie shouted. ‘Get into the hole!’ She stiffly raised her hands, groping numbly for the gap. Finding it. Eddie and Kit pushed her higher, and she all but fell inside. Realising that the wind had dropped, she crawled deeper into the fissure.

‘You next!’ Eddie told Kit. The Indian said something, but it was lost in the wind. Eddie bent to give him a leg up, taking hold of Kit’s boot with his freezing fingers. Legs flailing, Kit wormed into the tight opening.

Eddie jumped up after him, but the edge of the little cave was slick with ice. His hands, useless lumps of meat, couldn’t get a grip. The storm was sapping his strength by the second - if he didn’t get into shelter very soon, he never would . . .

Kit reappeared in the cave mouth. He knelt and held out his hands. Eddie reached up. Kit grabbed his wrists and pulled. With the last of his strength, Eddie scrambled up the wall, boots rasping on the rock.

He slumped into the fissure, almost knocking Kit over as he landed on him. The cave was deeper than he had thought; they moved into the darkness, flurries of snow still clawing at them in a last-ditch attempt to stop their escape before the ferocious wind finally dropped.

‘Thanks,’ Eddie gasped, getting a weak grunt of affirmation in return. He saw Nina in the shadows ahead and dragged himself to her. ‘Help me . . . with the heater.’

She pulled off his backpack and opened it. A minute later, the paraffin heater was lit. They piled their packs up behind them to block the wind. Eddie massaged Nina’s hands through her gloves as the trio hunched tightly round the heater. ‘Don’t try to warm up too fast,’ he warned. ‘Get the circulation back first.’

‘Will we have frostbite?’ she asked, worried.

‘I don’t think we’ll have to saw off any fingers, but no point taking chances. Can you feel anything?’

‘Yeah. Pins and needles.’

‘Believe it or not, that’s good. How about you, Kit?’

Kit flexed his fingers. ‘Feeling better. And I
think
all my toes are still attached . . .’

‘Great. Let’s see where we are, then.’ He fumbled in his pack for a torch.

Nina blinked in annoyance as she was momentarily dazzled, then followed the beam as it slid over the rocks around them, moving deeper and deeper. ‘How far back does it go?’ The passage twisted out of sight about thirty feet away.

‘Dunno. Think we’ve found a good place to sit out the storm, though.’

She looked at the cave floor, which was coated with grit and small stones. ‘Looks alluvial. It must carry meltwater during the spring thaw.’

‘I didn’t know you were a geologist,’ said Kit.

‘It’s useful stuff for archaeologists - helps us figure out how deep things might be buried.’ She took the flashlight from Eddie and scanned the walls. ‘Where does the water come from, though? It must open out somewhere.’

She made as if to crawl down the passage to investigate, but Eddie pulled her back. ‘Oi! Get properly warmed up first. Might as well have something to eat while we’re at it.’

‘Well, if we must . . .’ They smiled at each other, then Eddie poked through the packs for supplies.

After half an hour, they were more or less recovered and ready to move. Nina had already taken the lead. ‘It carries on round this corner,’ she reported, shining the light ahead.

‘How far?’ Kit asked.

‘I don’t know - I still can’t see the end. But it gets wider.’ She continued on.

‘Jesus, slow down,’ Eddie complained. ‘It’s not like we’ve found the Vault of Shiva . . .’ He tailed off.

‘Do you think . . .’ said Kit, eyes widening.

‘With her luck, I wouldn’t be bloody surprised. Come on!’ He shuffled down the confined passage after his wife, Kit behind him.

They caught up with Nina. The tunnel was indeed getting wider - and higher. ‘I can see daylight,’ she said. A faint grey cast over the rock walls was discernible ahead.

Eddie tugged down his hood. ‘There’s no wind.’ That wasn’t entirely true - he could feel a breeze on his cold-reddened cheeks - but it was nothing compared to the gale blowing at the other end of the tunnel. There was another bend to traverse, but the gloomy daylight was now clearly visible beyond it. ‘It opens out,’ Nina said, Eddie and Kit flanking her as they rounded the corner.

And stopped, frozen in surprise.

‘Well, bloody hell,’ said Eddie as he took in the incredible sight. ‘I think we found it.’

T
he cave emerged at one end of a narrow canyon sliced into the ridge. Snow was falling, but wafting gently down, not blasted by the blizzard. The top of the rift high above them acted as a windbreak, diverting the storm’s fury over it. All that was visible of the sky was a ragged line of grey.

But the onlookers had lost all interest in the weather.

The almost sheer sides of the valley had been carved into tiers decorated by ornate sculptures and columns and niches, dozens of arched entrances into chambers within the mountain between them. The elaborate architecture was unmistakably Hindu, gods in many forms gazing out from the walls, but it appeared incredibly ancient. The erosive effect of time had taken its toll, most of the carvings weathered and missing sections, and great chunks of the tiers themselves had collapsed, smashing the floors beneath them and littering the valley floor with broken rubble.

‘My God,’ said Nina, walking out into the falling snow. The valley’s far end was obscured by haze and shadow, but she could see enough to be awed by the sheer scale of their discovery. She counted seven tiers on each side, rising about seventy feet up the rocky walls. ‘It must be thousands of years old. Over
eleven
thousand, if it’s the same place Talonor mentioned.’

Kit was equally amazed. ‘How can it never have been found? We’re only a few kilometres from one of the holiest sites in India -
someone
must have seen it!’

‘Nothing to see from up there,’ Eddie realised, pointing skywards. ‘We’re on the north side of the ridge, so it’ll never get any direct sunlight.’ He peered at the topmost tier. ‘The cliffs overhang it at the top. You probably won’t know there’s anything down here even if you’re looking right over the edge.’

‘The Vault of Shiva must be here, somewhere,’ said Nina, awe changing to excitement. ‘How long is the valley, do you think?’ ‘Only one way to find out,’ he said, gesturing along the canyon’s length. ‘Go and see.’

They started up the valley. The wind howled mournfully high above them. As they advanced, new features emerged from the gloom: lines strung across the canyon connecting the different levels. At first they were just single ropes, drooping under the weight of snow, but then more complex crossings appeared - ones with lines to support both feet and hands, and even actual rope bridges, swaying in the breeze high above.

Eddie regarded one dubiously. ‘No way
that’s
been here for eleven thousand years. Rope bridges don’t last long if someone’s not maintaining them.’

‘You think someone’s been here more recently?’ Kit asked.

‘Looks like it.’ Nina went to one of the arched openings, examining the carvings beside it before shining the flashlight inside. ‘Most of these inscriptions are in Vedic Sanskrit . . . but there are others in Classical Sanskrit, which didn’t come into use until some time around four hundred BC.’

She entered the chamber, finding it piled high with the trash of centuries. The ground-level rooms would flood during the spring thaw, so anything left in them was apparently considered worthless by the valley’s inhabitants. Much of what she saw in the torch beam had rotted beyond recognition, but she caught a glint of metal and carefully extracted it from the garbage. ‘And look at this.’

‘A sword?’ said Eddie.

‘A scimitar, or what’s left of one.’ She examined the corroded hilt. ‘And there’s text on it - it looks Arabic. Parts of India were conquered by Muslims from the thirteenth century onwards, so this has to date from at least then.’

‘I didn’t think they came this far into the Himalayas,’ said Kit.

‘It might have been an expedition, looking for a trade route to China - or even searching for the Vault of Shiva. Who knows? But they obviously got this far.’ She returned the sword to its place, and they continued up the canyon.

More ropes crossed the valley overhead, and Eddie also spotted other lines hanging down between levels and across gaps where the stonework had broken away. Even as the place fell into ruin, it was clear that somebody had still been living there. But nothing they saw could provide a clear idea of when it had finally been abandoned.

That line of thought soon left their minds, though. The valley’s far end loomed through the murk, a near-vertical wall of dark rock three hundred feet high. A huge stone staircase had once risen to the height of the uppermost tiers, but the structure had now almost completely collapsed into a vast pile of rubble. The only way up to the jutting stub remaining at the very top was by navigating the intact sections of ledges along the valley’s sides, criss-crossing back and forth on the ropes and bridges to reach places where one could climb up to the next level. A three-dimensional maze, where one slip would result in a fatal plunge back to the start.

But what waited at the finish suggested that the journey would be worth the risks. ‘It’s Shiva,’ Nina gasped.

At the top of the ruined staircase was a broad ledge . . . and standing at its back, beneath the overhanging rockface, was an enormous statue of the Hindu god. Two-legged, but four-armed, the colossal figure was poised as if dancing. The sculpture, hewn from the rockface, stood sixty feet tall, towering over the bizarre settlement below. Its head was cocked at a steep angle, lips curved into a teasing half-smile that suggested it knew a secret . . . and was challenging onlookers to discover it.

Kit bowed his head in respect to the giant. ‘I would say we’ve found what we were looking for.’

Nina hurriedly took off her backpack and groped inside it. ‘Where’s the damn thing gone . . . here!’ She retrieved the replica of the key and held it up. ‘Look! It’s the same face, the same expression. This really is the key to the Vault of Shiva! We’ve
got
to get up there.’

Eddie surveyed the crumbled tiers. ‘Do you really want to risk climbing across on those ropes?’

‘There might be another way up, something we can’t see from the ground.’ She pointed at the ruins of the stairway. ‘See, we can get up to the second level on that, then we can get at least one floor higher if we use the carvings to climb up to that gap in the next ledge.’

‘And what if the whole lot comes down as soon as we put any weight on it?’

‘We’ll just have to hope Shiva was listening to Girilal when he asked him to look out for us.’

‘If Shiva really was watching out for us, he would have made it a nicer day.’ Eddie took in the dark grey sky above the canyon, snow-bearing clouds still scudding overhead. ‘And we’ve got less than an hour before it gets dark.’

‘I’m not going to just sit here,’ Nina said impatiently. ‘Let’s at least see how far we can get, okay? We’ll come back down before it gets dark and set up camp.’

‘All right, Christ!’ They headed for the base of the stairway. ‘Stick the rucksacks in that room there so we don’t have to lug them with us.’

Nina put the replica key in the inside pocket of her coat; then, the packs stowed, they started to ascend the rubble. It only took a few minutes to pick their way to the ledge on the second level. The carvings Nina had pointed out were an elaborate latticework with images of animals like bulls and elephants worked into the design. ‘It won’t be an insult to the big man up there if we use these as footholds, will it?’ Eddie asked Kit.

Kit smiled inside his fur-lined hood. ‘We’re here for a reason that will honour him, so I don’t think Lord Shiva will mind.’

‘Great. I like having God on my side.
Any
god.’ He brushed snow off the carvings and started to climb. ‘They’re all solid,’ he called back down from the next level.

Nina came next, breathing heavily with the exertion. Eddie helped her up, then did the same for Kit. ‘Okay, so now where?’ she said. The gap in the ledge through which they had climbed was too wide to jump, but it looked possible to climb across using the wall carvings to reach some dangling ropes further along.

Eddie tested the carvings, then picked his way carefully across the gap. The stone face of a cow crunched alarmingly when he stood on it; he hurriedly found an alternative foothold and completed the crossing. Avoiding the weak spot, Nina and Kit followed. By the time they were both on the other side, Eddie had tested the ropes to see if they would hold his weight.

‘Are they okay?’ Nina asked.

‘Too okay, if you ask me,’ he replied.

‘You think someone has been here recently?’ said Kit.

‘Yeah. In the last few years, definitely.’

‘Then somebody knows about this place,’ Nina said. ‘Girilal! That’d explain why he was trying so hard to persuade us not to come up here. He was worried we’d find it.’

‘He had the perfect cover,’ Kit mused. ‘He could watch everybody who came to Kedarnath or Gaurikund, and nobody would give a second thought to a yogi in either place.’

‘But he didn’t do anything to stop us, did he?’ said Eddie as he shimmied up the hanging ropes. ‘He could’ve killed us in our sleep if he’d wanted.’

‘Maybe . . . maybe he was
warning
us,’ Nina suggested, not liking the idea as soon as she said it.

Eddie looked down at her. ‘About what?’

‘I don’t know. I mean, we were in enough physical danger finding this place, but . . .’ She tried to dismiss the thought, and climbed up after Eddie.

Another room carved out of the cliff awaited her on the next tier, stone figures framing the arched entrance. As Kit climbed up, she shone her flashlight inside. It was considerably deeper than the ground-level chamber. Bundles of wood were stacked haphazardly near the doorway . . . but further back, the torch beam found something more regular.

Wooden boxes.

She advanced inside, bark fragments crunching under her boots. The boxes were old, the rough wood discoloured and mouldering, but the utilitarian construction was unmistakably the product of the industrial era. And as she got closer, she picked out words stencilled on them.

The language was English.

‘Nina? You coming?’ Eddie asked from the entrance.

‘Eddie, look at this.’ She crouched beside one of the boxes, reading part of the text. ‘“577/450 Martini-Henry”. Any idea what it means?’

‘It’s ammo,’ he told her. ‘Point five seven seven calibre with a four-fifty cal round. The Martini-Henry was a really old rifle.’

‘How old? And who used it?’

‘The British Empire. Don’t know exactly when - Victorian times, I suppose.’

She straightened. ‘Which means the colonial-era Brits found this place too. They definitely would have made a record of it . . . if they’d ever returned.’

‘You’re saying whoever lived here killed anyone who found it?’

‘Looks that way.’ They returned to the ledge, where Kit was waiting.

‘So who were they? And when did they leave?’

A faint sound reached them over the wind’s constant wail: an echoing whisper.

Growing louder.

More voices joined the sinister chorus, the mutterings coming from all round them. Metal scraped and clinked against stone.

‘I don’t think they did,’ Nina whispered.

Men emerged from the dark openings below them across the valley. Through the falling snow, the only details she could make out were that they all wore robes of dark blue and their heads were shaven.

Eddie looked down through the gap in the ledge. ‘Shit. There’s more of them underneath us.’

‘Who are they?’ Kit asked nervously.

‘Guardians,’ guessed Nina. ‘They protect the Vault of Shiva. And I think they’ve been doing it for a very long time.’

‘Maybe we can talk to them.’ Kit called down to the shadowy figures in Hindi. His words didn’t appear to have any effect, more men coming out of the chambers.

‘What did you say?’ Nina asked.

‘I told them I’m a police officer, and that we mean them no harm.’

‘I don’t think they believed you!’ Eddie cried. ‘
Down!
’

He pushed Nina to the floor. Something flashed across the narrow valley and clanged off the stonework just above them before spinning away. Kit ducked as another object scythed at him. It hit the wall with a ringing screech and landed in the snow beside Eddie. A flat hoop of gleaming steel about nine inches across, a
chakram
, inscribed with Sanskrit text - and with a razor-sharp outer edge, as Eddie discovered when he tried to pick it up.

‘Ow! Fuck this Xena bullshit,’ he growled as another
chakram
slashed overhead. He took out his gun. Their attackers clearly recognised the weapon, warning shouts prompting them to move into cover. He heard movement on the tier below and aimed the Wildey down through the gap. A robed figure darted out of sight.

‘What do we do?’ said Nina, anxiously watching the entrances on the far wall. Faces stared back at her from the shadows. Hiding in the nearby chamber was not an option: it had no other exits, an inescapable trap.

‘If I take a couple down, it should put the others off.’ Eddie pointed the gun at one of the archways, the faces instantly vanishing into darkness. ‘Just need a good shot . . .’

‘Eddie!’ Nina warned, seeing a man climbing through another gap in the ledge about forty feet away. Eddie whipped the gun round - as something heavy struck his hand with tremendous force and a savage bolt of pain surged up his arm.

The Wildey was jarred from his grip, clanging off the edge of the tier and tumbling down to the ground. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’ Eddie spat, clutching his hand.

The object that had hit him lay nearby. It was a dumbbell-shaped piece of metal almost a foot long, the bulbous sections formed from four thick, curved arms. A
vajra
, another ancient Indian weapon, which could be held and used as a club - or hurled at a target.

The climber saw that he had disarmed his opponent - and reached over his shoulder to draw a sword from a sheath across his back.

‘Uh, I think we should go,’ said Nina, pulling urgently at Eddie’s sleeve.