Chapter VII
When I went downstairs in the morning she was waiting for me with hot tea and biscuits.
"I am sorry I was so upset last night," she said simply. "It is wrong of me to expect you to believe as we do. Perhaps you will prove me wrong again. I do hope so."
Her eyes were deep and filled with so many things. Hope, sorrow, fear, but most of all with something else, and I found myself cursing Hilary for her damned female wisdom. I decided to keep things on another level if possible with Khaleen.
"Ghotak is not through yet," I said. "He is planning something and I must get to him first. You say he goes into the mountains to meditate alone twice a week and he's been doing this for years. How come the yeti has never attacked him?"
"Really very few people have seen the yeti," Khaleen said. "More have seen his tracks in the snow. But Ghotak is a holy man, and the spirit of Karkotek protects his person."
"With what he's trying to do how can you call him a holy man?" I asked.
"Evil has come into him," she answered unhesitatingly. "Maybe he will overcome it. Meanwhile, he is still a holy man."
I decided against further pursuit of that interwoven exercise in thought. "When does he make his pilgrimages into the mountains?" I asked. "Do you know?"
"Yes," she replied. "He will make one tomorrow and then later in the week."
It was all I wanted to hear. As Khaleen left with the tea and cups, I went out to close up a few more possible holes. I'd given Hilary the whole truth but I hadn't forgotten her cryptic remarks. I went to the Traveler's Inn, got her room number and went up to the second floor. I heard the ticking of a typewriter and I slipped into a small alcove a few feet down the hall. I stayed there and waited. She typed for about an hour and then I saw her emerge, wearing her white sweater and colorful kilt. She went downstairs and I tried the door. It was locked, but apparently like all Nepalese doors, the lock was little more than a nod toward formality. A little pressure and it snapped open. The room was small, typical of the Nepalese houses, with heavy wood panels and small windows, colorful blankets on the bed.
Hilary's things were scattered about. I brushed through her clothes hung in the single closet and then took out her one bag. I riffled through panties and bras and blouses and sweaters. It was in the corner, under a gray cashmere sweater, that I found it. As soon as I pulled it out her smug remark explained itself. It was a small transmitter, probably transistor powered, and certainly capable of reaching a field office somewhere in India. Neat, I smiled to myself. I went to the typewriter and looked over the paper in it. She was writing out the dispatch prior to sending it. I thought of just taking the set with me but then I had a better idea. It would have a nicer touch to it. I opened the back, took out the batteries and put them in my pocket Then I carefully replaced the set in the corner of the bag, under the gray sweater. I took a last quick look to make sure she had no extra batteries in her bag. There were none and I left, slipping out the door, unable to prevent the smile from curling around my lips. I saw her downstairs in the dining room, having a bowl of soup and writing furiously on a sheet of paper. I slipped past and out the door unseen.
I spent part of the day walking the streets, letting as many people as possible see that I was very much alive. This was a land where rumour reigned, I'd learned, and seeing me in the flesh would scotch any rumors Ghotak might have his boys spreading.
In the afternoon, Khaleen went to the temple to pray for her father's spirit, and I was glad she had gone. I thought of what Hilary had said about hurting her and it was the last thing I wanted to do. Yet, it was inevitable. By keeping her at arm's length I'd be hurting her too, only sooner. It would be a double hurt, now and later. I decided to play it by ear, and when she returned we had wine with dinner and went to bed early. I was under the fur blanket only a few minutes when she came in, naked, and her delicate loveliness was again a thing of overwhelming beauty. She crept in beside me and began her soft, fluttering travels across my body with her lips. I reached down, exercising all the self-discipline I could muster, and raised her head.
"What is it?" she asked. "Why do you stop me? Do I not please you?"
"Oh, God, no, that's not it," I said. "But I don't want to hurt you, Khaleen, yet I may have to. What if I should have to leave you soon?"
"If it is so written, so it must be," she said softly. "Until then, I am yours, and it is for me to please you."
She lowered her head and began to caress my body again with her lips. Sorry, Hilary, I said silently. I tried. Khaleen was setting my body afire and I bent down, found her delicate beauty. We made tender and sensuous love, and the night was wrapped in ecstasy.
I awoke at dawn and dressed quickly. Khaleen fixed hot tea for me and asked where I was going, but I refused to tell her.
"I'm going to try to bring things to a close," I said. "Trust in me."
She nodded, those deep eyes so trusting and filled with hidden emotions. I headed out and the streets were nearly deserted in the first gray light of the day. Only a few farmers on their way early to market passed me as I headed for the mountains. I had the Marlin with me, Wilhelmina and Hugo inside my parka. I reached the pass into the foot of the mountains and found a high boulder I could hide behind and still see out. The sun had not risen more than an hour when I saw him approaching, walking alone, his saffron robes cloaking the heavy boots and warm clothing he wore beneath. I let him pass and saw the tall climbing pole he carried with him. When he was far enough ahead I picked up his trail, and saw that he had departed from the one the old man had taken and the one I'd followed. He was cutting in through ravines and crevasses unknown to me. From time to time I glimpsed the spot of saffron on ahead and I found myself thinking that he climbed pretty high just to meditate.
A series of rocky steps suddenly ended in a fairly smooth, worn trail, steep but bordered on both sides by uneven boulders capped by the perennial ice and snow. I couldn't see Ghotak but I could hear him. I was moving on, too quickly, too carelessly, when they dropped on me from both sides of the bordering boulders, blue-shirted figures, two, three, four of them, and I glimpsed more as I went down under the avalanche of bodies. I kicked out, felt my foot sink into one, but his heavy clothing protected him. Another had me by the head. I reached up, grabbed him by the hair and yanked. He let go, and I got an elbow loose and shoved it into his mouth. I got another one with a wild swing and felt his jaw go sideways. I was on one knee now, and fighting back, when someone clouted me with a stout walking pole. It felt as though a redwood had toppled on me. I pitched forward, got a face full of snow which shocked me into consciousness, rolled over, grabbed the nearest arm and twisted. I heard a cry of pain and then the pole came down again, this time crashing against my temple. I pitched forward and everything went blue-black. When I woke up I was bound, my arms stretched behind my back.
Ghotak stood looking down at me as I was roughly lifted to my feet.
"I have severely underestimated you," he said impassively. "But now you have underestimated me. I was certain that sooner or later you would attempt to follow me, and we were waiting."
He turned to his men and spoke to them sharply.
"Bring him along," he said. "And hurry. Time is important. I must be returning to the temple." He started off, leading the way up the increasingly steep trail that finally disappeared in the usual welter of cliffs and vertical ascents. We finally reached a small level spot, and my knees and arms were bruised and hurting from being pushed and pulled up the rocks.