The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [113]
After a short distance, they crested a rise to reach flatter ground. The track ahead was lined with a long string of small huts leading to the village proper; like those in the hamlets down the mountain, their roofs had been removed. The buildings at the path’s end were more solid works of brick and stone, squeezed tightly into the narrow valley floor. The absolute stillness of the scene was eerie, the village in hibernation, waiting for life to return in the spring.
‘The pilgrims stay here,’ said Girilal, waving his stick at the skeletal huts. ‘The tourists have more money; they stay in the hotels.’
‘Are you taking us to a hotel?’ Nina asked.
‘Oh, no! They are private property - that would be breaking and entering, and your policeman would have to arrest me!’ He directed a laugh at Kit. ‘No, I know somewhere better.’
At the end of the line of huts was a small bridge over a narrow gorge. They crossed it and entered Kedarnath proper. A central street wound up the slope, the houses’ doors barricaded by sandbags to keep out snow and meltwater, locks wrapped in cloth to protect them from the cold. At the far end was the village’s tallest building, a broad stone hall with a high square tower.
‘Is that the temple?’ Nina asked Girilal.
‘Yes - one of the twelve jyotirlingas, the holiest Hindu shrines, where Lord Shiva himself appeared. That is where I am taking you.’
Kit looked at him sharply. ‘You’re going to open the temple?’
‘I am a humble servant of Shiva; I have been there many times. It is the best place for those in need of shelter to stay the night. And,’ he added, grinning, ‘I know where the priests hide the key.’
Kit didn’t seem happy, but raised no further objections as they approached the temple. The building was impressive: it had a squat, sturdy appearance, being built from large stone blocks to withstand the elements, yet the blunt functionality was balanced by detailed carved figures set into alcoves around the colourful entrance. An imposing statue of a bull stood guard outside.
Girilal led them through a gate, but rather than going to the temple’s entrance he crossed to the building’s corner and brushed snow off a small pile of bricks, muttering to himself as he looked beneath each in turn. Finally, he triumphantly held up a large brass key. ‘I told you!’ he said, skipping to the door and unwrapping the cloth from the heavy padlock before opening it. ‘Come inside, come!’ He kicked off his sandals, then picked them up and stepped over the sandbags.
Kit placed his hands together and lowered his head towards the temple, then unfastened and removed his boots before entering. Eddie looked at Nina with a shrug before following suit. She did the same, hopping on one foot as she fumbled with the laces, and went inside.
The interior was dark; with the village closed for winter, there was no electricity. Eddie was about to delve into his backpack for a torch when a soft glow illuminated the entrance hall as Girilal lit a lamp. Figures emerged from the darkness: statues. Behind them, mythic scenes were painted on the walls. ‘Please, accept the hospitality of Lord Shiva,’ said the old man.
‘Thank you,’ said Nina. She looked more closely at the statues. ‘These are beautiful. Who are they?’
‘The Pandava brothers,’ said Girilal. ‘The heroes of the Mahabharata. They came here seeking Shiva before they died. They were serving penance for killing their cousins in battle, and because of that Shiva did not want to bless them, so he took the form of a bull to hide from them. But they found him, and he tried to get away by sinking into the ground. The brothers caught the bull by its hump just before it disappeared, and the hump turned to stone and became the Shivalingam. The temple was built around it.’ He faced the next room, hands together in prayer.
Nina couldn’t help noticing that his crazy-man act had all but disappeared. ‘What will you do now you’re here?’
‘I will pay my respects to Shiva, of course, and ask him to protect you on the rest of your journey.’
‘Can you ask him to stick up