H. Killik Klaw - Chapter 7: Bhutan

She woke seamlessly, without noticing the change, as if the
jostling, the noise and the darkness of her circumstance had penetrated
her sleep so intact as to remove all distinctions between one state and
the other. She did not know where she was or how long she had been
there, she did not know if she had woken there before or not, all she
knew was that there was movement and noise and darkness. She tried to
sit up but a man's hand held her down.

'Sleep my child.'

He pressed her back into the pillow and back down into sleep.

'What was that?'

'Just a bump in the road.'

'Where am I?'

'You are in the back of a car.'

'Why is it dark?'

'Because it is night.'

'How long have I been asleep?'

'All day and into the night.'

'Where are we going?'

'Don't you know?'

'We're going home?'

'Yes. Sleep now.'

The sunlight woke her, she rubbed her eyes.

'How do you feel.'

Her voice cracked when she tried to speak, she tried again. 'Better.
I think.'

'I'm glad.'

'Hello uncle.'

'Try and sleep some more, you will feel better soon.'

'Are you taking me home.'

'Yes.'

'I think you owe me an explanation.'

Ben had waited in Delhi while Gallo and others were rushed away on
the first available helicopter. The monks had insisted he wait in the
hotel room until another was ready, he had sat there with the rest of
them watching television and eating too much room service in the
boredom, when they finally left it was dark. He had then been bounced
around in the back of a helicopter for another five hours, sandwiched
between two monks, one who had taken a vow of silence and one who just
did not talk much. They arrived in a small airport around midnight and
were taken on a long drive up into the mountains where Ben had
gratefully taken the up the offer of a bed and gone straight to
sleep.

He was woken in the morning by Anselmo who advised him that
breakfast was being served. He ate with Anselmo and other monks he did
not know. Afterwards brother Gallo had asked to talk to him. Ben
followed him through the monastery's medieval stone corridors to a
light airy room looking out on the valley floor and the mountains
beyond. Gallo offered him a seat and a cup of tea, Ben accepted
both.

Brother Gallo held his cup to his lip for a second and then proceeded
to drink.

'More so than you probably realise. He said once he had finished.
'But that is why I have asked you here. What do you wish to know?'

'Who is brother DeMontford and why is Kirsten's life in danger.'

'Brother DeMontford is Kirsten's uncle and one of our order. I
feared for her life before because of the illness, now DeMontford has
her that is no longer a problem.'

'So what is?'

'He means to kill her.'

'Her uncle?'

'Yes, her uncle. Do you believe in a religion Mr Carter.'

'No, I'm afraid not.'

'Well accept that many people do and you may understand what I am
about to tell you.'

'Very well.'

'Understand too that there are older powers than religion in this
world. One such is the mountain this monastery overlooks, it is an
ancient, malign and very potent force.'

'How can a mountain be a force? How can a mountain be malign?'

'Men have done evil in its name. That is enough.'

'You mean it is all in there heads.'

'I mean no such thing, I am only trying to help you understand.
Listen, for centuries, millennia even, local holy men have attempted to
bind the will of the mountain but such was its potency that it would
corrupt the hearts of these men and use the divisiveness of their
different faiths against them. Each would accuse the other of trying to
harness the mountains power for their own and the bindings would be
broken. Eventually all these various churches requested the Roman
Catholic Church for help and invited it to use its wealth and power to
set up a monastery here and hold the evil. Over three hundred years ago
that invitation was accepted and our order formed.'

'And you bind the mountain?'

'Yes.'

'How?'

'With prayer and ceremony.'

'What has anything to do with Kirsten?'

'When brother DeMontford was a young man and stationed here his
sister married a man from Delhi, they came here often to visit. In
hindsight it seems likely that some trick was used but who is to say
now. They had a daughter, Kirsten.'

'I've heard this story, they went mad and tried to kill her.'

'That is not the whole story. Her father worshipped the mountain,
there are some that do I'm afraid, her mother may have only been in its
thrall, we shall never truly know, the stress to her mind damaged it
and she is dead now. Kirsten's father took his newborn child up on to
the mountain and performed a ritual intended to bind Kirsten to the
mountain for her first fifteen years after which she would have been
sacrificed to it. It is a ritual that has been performed numerous times
in the mountains history. Brother DeMontford pursued him and prevented
him from completing the ritual.'

'They killed him?'

'They had to, at least that is what we thought. Listen. The binding
had to be sealed in blood, they assumed Kirsten's blood, happily
brother DeMontford rescued her before she was harmed, killing her
father to do so. Yet Kirsten was unmistakably bound to the mountain,
whenever she was taken from it she became ill, here she was never sick,
not once in fifteen years.'

'So you think the ritual worked.'

'It could not have, it was not sealed. Yet the uncompleted ceremony
seemed to have bonded Kirsten to the mountain in some way. It was
assumed this was harmless and would break once she turned fifteen.'

'She would not be sacrificed.'

'The incomplete ritual left her an unworthy offering, besides, who
was left to do it, her father was dead and she was safely under our
protection'

'What if there were others.'

'A lie was circulated, as far as Kirsten or anyone else knows her
birthday is in four months time, when in fact it is tomorrow. After
tomorrow we could have spirited her away from here and anyone who still
has designs on completing the ritual and making the sacrifice would
have been foiled.'

'And you think her uncle wants to do it.'

'We made a terrible mistake. Two weeks ago brother Langham, the only
of the two monks who accompanied brother DeMontford up the mountain
that night to survive the descent, passed away. In his will was a
sealed letter to the head of our order, myself these days though we
have never met. This letter described accurately the events on the
mountain that night.

'Unlike the account given at the time it appears Kirsten's father
handed over the child willingly without attempting to harm her in any
way. It appeared that he died not in a struggle but was shot in cold
blood by brother DeMontford. Brother Langham believed that this was
rage on DeMontford's part and agreed to keep it a secret, fortunately
his conscience got the better of him.'

'But what does it mean?'

'It means that DeMontford completed the ritual and bound Kirsten to
the mountain with her father's blood, it means he intends to sacrifice
her to the mountain tomorrow morning.'

'It's Killik Klaw, we're nearly home.'

'Yes Kirsten.'

She stirred, sat up and had everything come back to her with
terrible clarity. A rush of blood and enfolding horror.

'Wait!'

'What is it?'

'I don't want to go back there, don't take me back there, I'll run
away again, you can't make me go back there. I won't do it.'

DeMontford leant back over the passenger seat and caught her hand in
his.

'Hush child, what's wrong.'

'They killed my mother, I saw them shoot her right in front of me.
They kept her from me all these years and then killed her the moment I
found her.'

He went suddenly pale and pulled away from her.

'Stop the car.' He said to the driver.

'What.'

He shouted. 'Stop the car.'

The driver pulled over and DeMontford ran from the vehicle as if it
was on fire, he stopped a few meters away from the road and stood
there. Kirsten got out and watched him. The driver killed the engine
and it was suddenly very quiet, the empty valley stretched away from
them and upwards into the mountains like the whole earth was concave,
the sky was impossibly big, impossibly tall. A truck went past in the
other direction breaking the silence for a second.

Kirsten walked over to her uncle.

He crouched down and held her tightly.

'All those years.' He said. 'All those years of keeping her
safe.'

Kirsten let herself be held and let herself cry in his arms.

'Why did they do that uncle?' She asked. 'Why did they kill her and
why did they lie to me? Why did you?'

'It was the best thing to do at the time.'

'How could it be better than the truth.'

'It was to protect you. My sister understood too well what your
father had done, far better than the monks with all their books ever
have. She knew what it would mean if you lived to see fifteen. It sent
her insane but she was stronger than the mountain knew and remained
lucid on one point, she had to end what she had created.'

'I don't understand. She wanted to kill me.'

'She nearly did, after you were brought down from the mountain.
Fortunately I second guessed her and saved you. If the monks shot her
in front of you it was to save you again.'

Kirsten's mind flashed back to the garden, the knife.

'Ironically enough as it turns out.' He said, standing up.

'I still don't understand, why did my mother want to kill me?'

'Because you are the trigger Kirsten.' He took her hand and walked
back to the car. 'You are the key that will unleash the mountain from
the chanting and bone throwing of men.'

'What mountain?'

'Don't you know.'

'Killik Klaw.'

Ben amused himself the rest of the day, exploring the monastery and
lounging about in its grounds. After lunch he took a long walk along
the valley slopes, the mountains rising giant and benign behind him,
till the monastery was swallowed in their rocky vista and he turned
back. The sun hot and familiar on his back and the air sharply
invigorating, the solitude felt good.

After dinner he stood at the window in his room, watching the same
sun quickly set in a wash of orange light that swamped the room.
Anselmo was supposed to fetch him for a proper drink but had not turned
up, Ben was not worried. He enjoyed the view and the promise of a drink
was more than he expected in a monastery, he gathered that it was a
very unusual order. If he leaned out the window he could see three
mountains distinct, he wondered which was the one Gallo had talked of.
Which was Killik Klaw.

There was a knock at the door but it was not Anselmo but another
monk Ben did not recognise, he seemed agitated and told Ben to
accompany him to the roof. Ben followed the monk through yet more
labyrinthine passages to the top of the monastery. Immediately the cold
night air bit on his bare arms, refreshing but cutting.

'Come.' Said the monk, leading him towards a crowd of others who
gathered around a telescope. 'They've spotted figures on the
mountain.'

Another monk moved aside and motioned for Ben to use the telescope,
he looked but saw nothing. Ben shrugged but was ignored, the monks were
gathered around talking urgently to one another, mostly in languages
other than English.

Ben recognised brother Gallo and approached him.

'Oh good, you're here.' Said Gallo and commanded the other monks
silent.

'Listen.' He said. 'There is no doubt now in my mind that we have
seen brother DeMontford on the mountain with Kirsten and a third person
unknown. There is also no doubt that he means to sacrifice her at the
earliest opportunity tomorrow morning.'

'One a.m.' Said a monk from the crowd. 'That is when she was
born.'

'Thank you. I mean to send a rescue party of as many who can be
spared, and can make the climb.'

Ben noticed some of the monks react, they muttered to each other in
low voices and though he caught none of the words it was clear they did
not relish the prospect.

'We shall go as soon as we are able.' Continued Gallo over the
noise. 'But the helicopter is on its way and we shall send the three
best climbers up in that.'

Immediately hands shot up from within the crowd like eager children
but Gallo gestured them down.

'Ben.' He said. 'Will you go.'

'Yes.' Said Ben without hesitation.

'At least let him know what he is agreeing to.' Said a voice from
the crowd.

'I can climb a mountain.' Said Ben.

The monk came forward, it was the same one Ben had punched in Patna,
he could tell by the bruise. 'The last time three went up there only
two returned. The helicopter itself crashed and was not found till the
following day. Of the two who returned one was the mountains own and
the other bought his life with his silence.'

'Brother Langham was deceived not corrupted.' Said Gallo.

'You do not know that.'

'It is my opinion.'

'From one who never met him.'

'I knew him.' Said Anselmo's voice from the crowd. 'And I share that
opinion.'

'Thank you brother Marten.' Said Gallo.

'And I would like to volunteer to go in the helicopter.'

Gallo laughed and said 'And I would like to let you but you are not
our fastest climber, even with your stick. I believe that would be
Peters and the Rabsch.'

A woman's voice said 'Myself then Peters, by some margin.'

Ben looked round to see a local woman standing behind brother Gallo,
he had no idea how long she had been there.

'Fairuza.' Said Gallo. 'I cannot ask this of you.'

'You can ask it of him?'

'He may well be the only person Kirsten trusts. We need him.'

'Yet I love the child and do not fear the mountain, how can you not
ask this of me'

'If you are sure.'

'I am sure.'

'Very well then, we have two. Peters, will you go?'

'I shall.' Said a voice from the crowd. Ben turned and saw the monk
who had chased Kirsten in Lucknow.

'Very well. You know what to do.' Said Brother Gallo to the crowd
and then to Ben 'Get her back for me.'

Later, standing outside the monastery in his climbing gear Ben
watched the others depart in a convoy of four wheel drive vehicles. The
helicopter was not due for ten minutes. A number of older monks had
been left behind, they talked to brother Peters and the woman, Fairuza,
but not to him.

His gaze was drawn up to the mountains that crowded in on three
sides, in the bright moonlight their snow capped peaks stretched aloft
like the fingers of a clawed hand about to close. The monastery clung
to the slopes of one and looked out on four others that he could see.
The closest of these, although not the tallest seemed the brightest. It
had a squat solidity, a half circle ridge which spiralled up to the
peak turned in defiance to the others, its close attention focussed
solely on the green valley below, and the monastery above that, and on
Ben there.

As he watched a cloud passed over the moon and the mountains hid
themselves in the gloom.

'Mr Carter.' Said brother Peters looking very not monk like in a
reflective anorak. 'I believe I owe you an apology.'

Ben shrugged it off. 'When did you get here.' He asked.

'We managed to charter a third helicopter after you left, I was sent
because...'

'...you're the best climber.'

'So they say.'

'How good are you?'

'Not that great. I mean, competent.'

'And do you know your way up the mountain.'

'I know it a little, but in the dark...'

Ben muttered under his breath. 'We're all going to die.'

'But Fairuza will' Peters said.

The woman turned at the sound of her name.

'You know the mountain in the dark.' Said Peters.

'Like the back of my hand.' She said. 'Or some hope we'd have of
finding the girl at all.'

'What is the climb like?' Said Ben.

'A steep walk is all. You will not need all that gear.' She gestured
to the pack the monks had provided. 'Unless the weather turns.'

'Look.' Shouted Peters pointing to a point of light in the sky. 'The
helicopter.'

'How long is the trip?' Asked Ben.

'An hour.' Said Fairuza.

'Brother Gallo says we must get there by one-o-clock.'

'We have plenty of time.'

'But we have to get to the summit.'

'It will not be a problem.'

But what do we do then, he thought. Peters had gone with the other
monks to light a flair for the helicopter, Ben looked at the smoke.

'Winds getting up.' He said.

'I know.' Said Fairuza without turning.

Ben sat in the back of the helicopter with Peters whilst Fairuza sat
in the front with the pilot. It was too noisy to talk so he studied the
map he had been given. The climb was as easy as they said, there were
several gentle routes to the summit but there were also some
treacherous drops to be avoided. He had never climbed at night before
and was apprehensive.

Outside the window the world faded to pitch black the moment they
took off. Later Ben saw snow falling in the lights and noticed the ride
become more uncomfortable as they were buffeted increasingly violently
by the wind. When Fairuza turned and shouted something to him he
guessed what it was without hearing. The weather had turned and they
would have to put down early.

On the ground Fairuza scanned the landscape with her hand shielding
her eyes from the windblown snow, Ben studied his map and tried to find
a landmark in the gloom but saw nothing. Peters watched the receding
lights of the helicopter and tried to raise the other monks on the
radio but with no success. Ben found no sense of the mountain, evil or
otherwise. Normally a mountain would appear to have an attitude, a
personality, but here nothing. Perhaps it was because he could not see
it, could not see how far he had come or how far he had to go. Perhaps
because all there was here was snow and wind and darkness. Perhaps all
that would come with the climb.

Fairuza jabbed a finger on his map.

'We are here.'

Ben marked the spot with a pencil cross and the time. Fairuza
started to tie the three of them together on a long rope.

'It's just gone nine.' He said. 'Can we make it to the top in four
hours.'

'We will have to hurry.' She replied. 'Come on.' And she started off
up the slope.

'Come on.' Ben shouted back at Peters and followed.

'Stay close.' Said Fairuza.