The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [137]
‘They must have been assembled in here,’ said Nina. ‘They’re exhibits - just as much Shiva’s treasures as any of these statues.’ She joined Shankarpa. ‘These things are all mentioned in the epics?’
‘Yes, and in the carvings in the valley,’ he said. He pointed to the grid of arrowheads. ‘That is a sara-yantra - it fires a hundred arrows at once. An udghatima’ - the stone roller - ‘to break down castle walls.’
Nina looked more closely at the ancient war machines. Stone and metal weights were suspended from chains running through pulleys to their axles. She had seen - and almost been the victim of - similar simple but effective gravity-powered mechanisms before; they were still primed even after the endless centuries. ‘Impressive. Just don’t touch them - they might go off.’ She indicated the ‘dollhouse’. ‘What about this?’
Father and son exchanged looks. ‘A flying palace,’ said Shankarpa.
‘From what was written in the Ramayana, I thought it would be a lot bigger.’ Girilal sounded almost disappointed.
Eddie and Kit, meanwhile, had been examining the interior. ‘You know what this is?’ said the Yorkshireman. ‘A hot-air balloon.’ He rapped the brazier. ‘Here’s your fire, and you’ve got the bottom of the balloon up there.’
Nina regarded the great mound of fabric in wonder. ‘It’s incredible. First the Chinese lose gunpowder to India, and now the French have to give up balloons. There’ll be some very angry historians once word about this place gets out.’
‘If it gets out,’ said Shankarpa, a warning tone returning to his voice. ‘All these are just toys compared to the power of the words of Lord Shiva. We must find the Shiva-Vedas - and then I shall decide what to do with you.’
‘Where would they be?’ asked Kit.
‘In the deepest part of the Vault,’ Nina suggested. ‘Come on.’ She led the way into the cavern, following the flickering trail of oil. They passed numerous other siege machines - some resembling ballistas and catapults, others battering rams shaped to look like elephants and goats, as well as more examples of those near the ramp - before approaching the rear wall.
It was immediately obvious where the Shiva-Vedas were kept. A figure guarded a narrow passageway cut into the rock, a statue twenty feet tall.
‘You know what?’ said Eddie. ‘Looks like Spielberg was right all along.’
Shankarpa was awed by the sight. ‘Kali . . .’ he whispered.
The jet-black goddess was almost something from a nightmare, mouth twisted in fury. Her eyes and protruding tongue were painted blood-red, her naked body adorned with a garland round her neck - not of flowers, but of human skulls. But the most prominent feature was her arms: all ten of them. Most of them clutched weapons, deadly blades shining in the firelight - several swords, a trident, the double-ended club of a huge vajra, even the disc of a chakram. One foot was firmly planted on the floor beside a small opening at the end of the passage, the other suspended threateningly above it as if ready to stamp on anyone trying to pass beneath.
The guardians responded to the sight with great reverence, even fear. Worshipping one Hindu god, such as Shiva, did not preclude also worshipping others, and as both Shiva’s wife and one of the most powerful deities in the pantheon Kali demanded respect.
Even Eddie felt a little intimidated. ‘I see why she’s the goddess of death. Ten arms to kill you with? She’s not messing around.’
‘No, no,’ said Girilal, almost amused. ‘There is much more to Kali than death. Do you see? Two of her hands are empty.’
Nina saw that instead of holding weapons, the thumbs and fingers formed symbols. ‘What do they mean?’
‘That one,’ he said, pointing with his stick, ‘is a sign that she will protect you. She may be fierce, but she is also a loving mother - and a mother will do anything to protect her children. The other means “do not be afraid” - you have nothing to fear if you trust her.’
Kit moved forward, gazing up at the towering figure. ‘So Lord Shiva left Kali to