The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes - Jamyang Norbu [78]
At the end of the Lama's story Sherlock Holmes stretched back on his couch and looked pensively at the ceiling. Then leaning forward again he asked, 'Did you not mention yesterday that the Grand Lama would be undertaking a retreat at a certain far-away temple?'
'Why, yes. At the Ice Temple of Shambala. He will be going there in a week's time.'
'Does this temple have any connection to "the Shambala of the North", that you were describing to us just now?'
'Most certainly, Mr Holmes. The temple, which is normally buried underneath the great ice, was the very spot where the messenger from Shambala originally expounded the secret science of the Wheel of Time to the first Grand Lama. Ever since then all Grand Lamas have been required by tradition to undertake a period of retreat there, prior to their enthronement. There, through prayer and meditation, they would establish cosmic communion with the occult forces of Shambala, which would then awaken their latent powers and wisdom, thus enabling them to rule this land wisely and protect it from the dark forces.'
’And the last three Grand Lamas — who died before their majority? They presumably did not get to go to this temple.'
'Alas, no. The schemings of evil councillors and Chinese pressure prevented them from doing so. It is now vital that nothing happens to prevent His Holiness from going to the Ice Temple and meditating there.'
'And after ...?'
'Our task will have been accomplished, Mr Holmes — yours and mine. It will then be out of our hands.'
The Lama Yonten peered rather short-sightedly towards the door, which was just behind my low couch.
'Is that you, Tsering?'
'Yes, Honourable Uncle.'
'Come in. Come in and sit down.'
I turned around to see Tsering standing by the door. So, he was the Lama Yonten's nephew. That explained the deference with which the governor of Tholing had treated him. It was prudent of the Lama to assign the care of his two potentially compromising foreign guests to someone close to him, in blood as well as trust. Tsering sat on a low divan next to the Lama and gratefully gulped down a bowl of hot butter tea served to him by a monk servitor.
'Well?' said Holmes, as Tsering put down his tea cup.
'It was no problem following them, Sir.' said Tsering, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'And we were careful not to let ourselves be seen, as you instructed. We followed them out to the city, where they took the Lingkor road,1 south of the Iron Hill. They carried on in an easterly direction, sticking all the while to the back streets till they came near the Kashgar caravanserai, which they skirted, and finally they entered the compound of the yamen, the Chinese legation.'
'Are you sure?' asked the Lama Yonten anxiously.
'I am certain. The main gate of the legation walls was open and the Amban himself with servants and guards was waiting. All of them bowed low as the palanquin went through the gates.'
'Then it is him!' the Lama Yonten went white as a sheet. His hands trembled.
'Who?' asked Holmes.
'The mysterious guest that arrived at the Chinese legation, the person within the palanquin who caused swords to fly, the power to whom even the Amban must bow. It is him. The Dark One!'
'The Dark One?' repeated Holmes rather incredulously, arching an eyebrow,
'Yes. He has returned from the outer darkness to destroy our master again as he swore to do eighteen years ago.'
'Reverend Sir,' said Holmes bemusedly, 'so far I have confined the limits of my investigation to affairs of this world. As I had occasion to remark before, the supernatural is definitely outside my sphere of competence.'
'Oh no, Mr Holmes. The Dark One is a living person, I assure you. He acquired the name because he turned away from the light of the Noble Doctrine and perverted sacred