The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [112]
‘Oh, nothing like that,’ he said cheerily. ‘I am cold. I just don’t show it!’
Eddie grunted disapprovingly. ‘Deliberately risking frostbite is pretty fucking stupid, mate. Why do it? Getting rid of your worldly goods is one thing, but does Shiva say you’ve got to torture yourself?’
‘How I serve my penance is my choice,’ Girilal replied, for the first time since they had met him revealing a hint of negative emotion - not so much anger as sorrow.
‘Penance for what?’ Nina asked.
‘For my sins, of course. I cannot reach enlightenment until Lord Shiva has forgiven me for everything bad I have done.’
‘The Catholic way’s easier,’ said Eddie. ‘Quick confession, couple of Hail Marys, and you’re sorted.’
‘Like you’ve ever been to confession,’ joked Nina. ‘You’d be in there for hours! The priests would have to work in shifts.’
‘Don’t make me add clipping my wife round the ear to my list.’ Girilal resumed his humming, leading the way. The trees became sparser as they ascended, the unobstructed wind picking up. Along the way they passed a few tiny settlements, handfuls of huts huddled together - all without roofs. Nina at first thought they were derelict, until Girilal explained that the merchants inhabiting the little hamlets moved down the mountain during the winter; when Kedarnath was closed to pilgrims and tourists, they had no customers. The roofs were removed to prevent them from collapsing under the weight of snow.
The clouds closed in, the valley disappearing into a grey haze. Kit read a Hindi sign as they stopped to rest. ‘Four kilometres to go.’
‘We’ve only walked six miles?’ said Nina in breathless disbelief. ‘It feels like sixty!’
Once recovered, they carried on up the slope, which became steeper and rockier. By now, they were above the tree line, the only vegetation small bushes poking out from the snow. The dampness of the surrounding clouds intensified the cold still further. Nina tried to offer Girilal a blanket, but he refused, resolutely picking out the path ahead of them.
Another marker post, and another. Although the mountainside was getting no steeper, the climb became harder as the air thinned. Their rest stops increased in length and frequency. The last marker; one kilometre to go. They kept ascending. Then . . .
‘Look at that!’ said Nina, awed. They emerged from the fog - and for the first time since arriving in the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand, she was able to see the true majesty of the Himalayas.
Lower down, the mountains had been little more than ominous shadows, concealed in the murky clouds. But now she could see them clearly, lit by the stark winter sun. The sawtoothed main peak of Mount Kedarnath itself dominated the view, its lower, secondary summit off to the west, but even with the valley’s sides obscuring the surrounding landscape she could take in other snow-covered mountains rising beyond. She had been in the Himalayas before, but circumstances had not been conducive to sightseeing. This time, she was truly able to appreciate their scale.
Eddie was not so impressed. ‘Yeah, it looks pretty amazing,’ he said, ‘but you won’t like it so much when you try to climb the bugger.’ He pointed to the northeast. The ridge they had seen on Kit’s laptop was revealed for real, more jagged and imposing than its computer-generated counterpart. ‘We’ve got to get up that.’
‘There’s the notch,’ said Kit. There was indeed a V-shaped gap in the natural barrier, but even its lowest point was considerably higher than their current location.
Girilal turned his face from the falling sun to regard the ridge. ‘You think the Vault of Shiva is over there?’
‘That’s right,’ said Nina.
‘That is a very dangerous part of the mountain. Many who have gone there have never come back. Are you sure you want to follow them?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘I could live without it,’ Eddie muttered.
‘I cannot stop you, of course. But I wanted to warn you. Well, I tried! Now, come, come. The