I. Killik Klaw - Chapter 8: Killik Klaw

Kirsten sat down in the snow and watched it fall around her and
watched her uncle argue with the man who had driven the car and then
walked with them when the car could go no further. He had given her a
coat and boots but other than that she was still dressed for the heat
of Delhi. She shivered. They were arguing about the change in the
weather.

'We cannot go on. We'll die for sure.'

'No.' Said her uncle. 'The mountain will protect us.'

'Your faith blinds your reason.'

'Then believe it will protect her.'

'It is not her well being that concerns me, it is mine.'

'This weather is to hinder our enemies, not us. We must go on.'

'It is too risky, this can be done any time.'

'No, to delay is risky. Only here are we strong. If we wait they
could find us.'

'We could hide.'

'Where?'

'Here, tonight, back at the car. Only till the storm passes. If it
is to stop the monks let it stop them, we are in no hurry.'

'No, we must trust the mountain and go now, to wait is more
dangerous.'

'I'll not go.'

'What!'

'I'll not go. If you are in such a rush to do it then do it
alone.'

'I order you to go.'

'I'll not.' Said the man and turned back down the slope.

DeMontford pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it at the
man. 'Stop.' He commanded. The man turned and saw the gun.

'Kill me and you'll still have to do it alone, whatever I'll not
help you, that was not the deal. Whatever you'll have to do it
alone.'

They stood facing each other in the falling snow, the gun between
them.

'Do what?' Said Kirsten.

'A ritual Kirsten.' Said DeMontford without taking his eyes off the
man.

'You preach honesty to the child and then hold the truth from her.
To kill you my dear'. He said to Kirsten. 'We mean to sacrifice you to
the mountain.'

'Uncle?'

'Could you do it though brother DeMontford. Could you really
slaughter the girl you brought up.'

'Uncle?'

'Could you?'

'Yes.' Said DeMontford and shot the man dead.

Ben felt the rope around his waste pull, first brother Peters behind
him and then Fairuza in front. He shouted ahead for Fairuza to stop and
waited for Peters to catch up, leaning his hands on his knees and
taking deep breaths of the thin air. His eyes were weeping from the
cold wind and he could feel the sticky residue of tears on his cheeks.
He wiped at them with the back of his hand and bowed his head to shield
his face from the weather.

Peters appeared out of the darkness first which meant Fairuza was
not coming back down. He trudged slowly to where Ben was and stood
panting rapidly and noisily.

'How are you doing?' Asked Ben.

Once he had his breath back Peters said 'I can't keep up this pace
much longer. We've been going for two hours without a break and the
weather is getting worse.'

'We'll take a break. Come on, lets tell Fairuza.'

He pushed Peters moving with a hand on his shoulder and led the way.
The stop had not helped and his feet felt heavy and rooted in the snow.
Even in the few yards Peters lagged behind.

'Why have you stopped?' Shouted Fairuza as he approached.

'We need a break. Peters cannot keep up the pace.'

'No time.' She said. 'We must go.'

Ben gestured back to Peters who was bent nearly double as he
scrambled up the slope.

'He has to rest.'

'Then we leave him.'

'We can't.' Ben said, shocked at the idea.

'Why not?'

'It's too dangerous, he can't be up here alone.'

'There is shelter nearby. We can leave him there. We will not make
it in time otherwise.'

They waited for Peters. He walked over to them and sat down in the
snow.

'Can you not manage the climb?' Said Fairuza.

'I need a break.'

'There is no time.'

'I cannot keep up this pace.'

'Then you will not make it in time.'

'We have to reach the summit in less than two hours.' Said Ben.

'Then go on ahead.' Said Peters. 'I'll follow as fast as I can.'

'No.' Said Ben. 'It is too dangerous to climb alone, there is
shelter nearby where you can stop till daylight.'

'No. I shall keep going.'

'I can't let you.'

'Decide soon.' Said Fairuza to them both and she turned away
disinterested.

'Don't worry.' Said Peters. 'It's an easy path.'

'Yes but there are drops on either side that would kill you and you
can hardly see your hand in front of your face it's so dark up here and
you said yourself, the weather is getting worse.'

'Ben, how can I not go on.'

Ben had no answer.

'Do you know what you will do? How you will rescue her.'

'I have no idea, I do not know if I can keep this pace up myself for
another two hours.'

'Brother DeMontford may be armed, he may try to kill you.'

'I know.'

'Get her back Ben, but be careful.'

'I will.'

'Do you want the radio?'

'No, it's useless. You keep trying it though.'

'I'll follow soon.'

'Follow the footprints, don't leave it too late or they'll be
covered by snow.'

'Good luck.'

'You too.'

Ben untied himself from the monk and told Fairuza to keep going.

'We must hurry.' She said.

Kirsten twisted her wrists against each other and the rope that
bound them tightly together. Partly to try and loosen the knot or get
her fingers back at it but mostly now to relieve the pain, to allow
some circulation. She had ran when her uncle had shot the man but he
had caught her easily, a petrified sobbing wreck. Now he led her like a
pack animal on a rope tied to her wrists.

They were approaching the summit and the path had narrowed. Although
she could only see it in the brief breaks in the cloud she could feel
the sheer drop waiting to her left.

The rope pulled sharply and she fell forward into the snow. Her
uncle turned and shouted something that was stolen by the wind, he
pulled her forward as she stumbled up again.

The fall had hurt her wrists further and she pressed them to her
body and started to cry again. Her father had tried to kill her on this
mountain fifteen years ago, her mother had tried to kill her in Delhi
the previous morning and now her uncle was going to finish the job. And
brother Gallo and all the other monks had killed her mother which was
worse. She wished Ben was here now though her uncle would just kill him
too, she wished she had gone with him in Delhi when he wanted to, left
her mother alone to live and let Ben look after her, She wished she
were not alone. She sobbed hard and trudging listlessly forward her
tears splashed into the snow. She had known this mountain all her life,
it was part of her landscape, yet she had never been up it before. She
had walked all over the area and gone on several climbing trips with
the monks yet never on Killik Klaw. She had known its name as long as
she could remember and could still recall the first time she had
climbed onto the monastery roof and sat, curled up against the cold,
and watched the mountains. They were lonely like her, the only girl in
a monastery, and in their echoed solitude and silent conspiracy she had
found comfort when she needed it.

'Damn it.' She said out loud.

She was not going to do this, she was not going to walk in
complicity to her murder. She stopped and when the rope pulled she
pulled back.

He uncle pulled harder, pulling her over again but this time she dug
her feet into the snow and kept pulling back, taking as much slack as
she could so as to keep the tension off her wrists. The fight ended and
he walked back to her, reeling in the rope as he came.

'Kirsten.' He shouted as if to a naughty child. 'Start walking.'

'No!'

'Get up that slope young lady or there'll be trouble.'

The absurdity of the command enraged Kirsten. 'So you can kill me.'
She screamed. 'No way.'

He raised his hand as if to slap her but did not, they looked at
each other.

'I'll not walk another step.' She said. 'You'll have to carry
me.'

'Very well.'

With one hand still holding the rope DeMontford took off his
rucksack, placed it on the ground and retrieved the gun from it. He
stood up, checked the weapon and stowed it in a jacket pocket. Kirsten
seized the rucksack and threw it over the precipice.

Kirsten had no plan, she was like an amateur chess player in the
opening stages of a game, not playing to any strategy or immediate
purpose, just moving the pieces to what felt the strongest position. It
seemed to help her to enrage her uncle and to put the pack beyond his
reach, even if he still had the gun.

'You little brat.' He shouted.

She spat in his face and this time he did slap her. It was hard and
nearly knocked her down but she came right back up and leapt at him,
scratching at his eyes. He screamed, less in pain than in panic,
grabbed her with both hands and threw her off.

It was the moment she had been waiting for, he had dropped the rope.
She landed on her feet and without hesitation jumped off the ledge.

She did not know how far she fell, maybe as little as fifteen feet.
She landed on her back in a soft drift of fresh snow. She saw the rope
trailing back upwards and immediately tried to pull it down after her
but took no more than a couple of meters before her uncle pulled back.
She clamped the rope between her foot and the vertical rock wall and
holding it tight was able to resist the pull. Her uncle was shouting
down at her but she made no sound, scared he might realise how short a
drop she had fallen. Releasing the rope she reached out and pulled the
rucksack to her. The rope slipped about a meter but she stopped it.
Pushing it against the rock with her foot and leaning back against the
weight. With one hand she held the rope and with the other twisted
outwards she searched the rucksack. She found a knife and managed to
open it with her teeth, then twisting her wrist so much it hurt sawed
into the rope just in front of where she held it.

The moment the rope was cut it slipped out from under her foot and
up to her uncle above. Knowing he would soon guess what happened she
picked herself up and not pausing even to free her wrists, ran.

She sprinted as fast as the deep snow would allow. In her panic and
desperation she spared no thought to the darkness and its hidden falls,
she trusted blindly that the ground would be there to meet her feet and
her trust was rewarded. She ran for three or four minutes, sometimes
leaping and sometimes dodging left or right but never for any reason
other than pure instinct.

She stopped to cut her wrists free and looked behind, listening
intently for any sign she was followed, there was none but there was a
light ahead of her. It could not be her uncle unless she had doubled
back on herself which she was sure she had not. The light went out but
she made her way cautiously towards where it had been.

The light winked on again, much closer this time, she silently crept
towards it. She was close enough now to see two hooded faces in the
light studying a map, she caught snatches of their voices on the wind
and only then realised who it was.

She shouted. 'Ben.' And ran towards them.

The figure looked up and Ben shouted to her, she recognised
Fairuza's voice as well and the three of them ran together. She reached
Ben first and threw herself into his arms and then hugged Fairuza tight
and did not let go.

Ben kept asking if she was okay, over and over again.

'I'm fine.' She said. 'I'm fine.' She was not even out of
breath.

'It is the mountain.' Said Fairuza. 'You are strong when you are
with it. At least till tonight you are.'

'What about tonight?' Kirsten asked.

'The ritual wares off.' Said Ben.

'Or is completed.' Said Fairuza.

'What do you mean?'

'Bound to the mountain till fifteen years old and then given to
it.'

Ben looked at Fairuza, confused by what she had said.

Kirsten felt the woman's embrace tighten. 'Fairuza?'

'You never stood a chance Mr Carter.'

Fairuza drew a gun from within her jacket, Kirsten saw it first and
made a grab at it. A shot went wild.

'Run Ben.' Shouted Kirsten as Fairuza pulled her off. Ben stood
routed to the spot. 'Get help.'

Ben rushed at Fairuza, his shout drowned by another gunshot. Kirsten
did not know if he had been hit or not. He shoulder barged Fairuza
knocking her to the ground, Kirsten saw the gun fly out of her hand
into the dark.

'Come on.' She shouted grabbing Ben and running with him down the
slope as fast as she could pull him along.

'Are you hurt?' She asked.

'I don't think so.'

She stopped with a start as the slope suddenly deepened to a near
vertical drop.

'Damnit.' Said Ben. 'this isn't the way we came.'

Kirsten peered down into the darkness. 'We have to go down there.'
She said.

'It's too dangerous. It's no good me rescuing you only to kill you
again.'

'You! I rescued myself.'

'Still.' He said.

'It's safe.'

'You can't know that.'

'But I do.' She said. 'It's hard to explain, it's like a sense of
the mountain.'

'It's too risky.' He said.

'And staying here isn't.' She said suddenly agitated, why wouldn't
he just trust her.

'We can find a way round.'

'Too slow.'

'She'll be just as slow.'

Kirsten felt her heart thumping quickly, a dreadful compulsion to
leave. 'Will you just go.'

'Kirsten? Are you okay?'

'Please.'

'What's wrong?'

'You. Why won't you just go.' She stepped behind him and pushed him
forwards.

Ben slipped about twelve feet before stopping himself and shouted
'What did you do that for?'

Kirsten went to follow him but was pulled back. Fairuza had her by
the hood of her coat. Ben tried to scramble up the slope but only
slipped further down, disappearing in the dark. Fairuza peered down
after him and fired two shots idly, then struck Kirsten on the temple
with the butt of the pistol.

Subdued and shocked Kirsten allowed herself to be pulled up the
mountain again, before she knew it they had reached the summit.
DeMontford was there waiting.

'Where are the others?'

'We left one further down, the boy fell down a steep slope.'

DeMontford looked at his watch. 'We have forty minutes to wait. 'He
said. 'They'll be here, keep a lookout.' He glanced at Kirsten. 'And
tie her up.'