the table by the bed was the knife he had taken from his assailant of two nights ago. Bending down, he fumbled for his boots, but she pushed them into his hand. He snatched up the knife and thrust it into his boot.
Outside the door of his room, the corridor had been plunged into pitch darkness. Chindamani held his hand as before. She used her other hand to follow the wall. Somewhere, loud voices called;
there was a crashing sound, as though a large object had fallen.
He thought he could hear feet running and then grow still. He thought he heard someone cry out and fall silent again.
Chindamani fumbled in the darkness. Then there was a door and they went through it. He heard the sound of a match being struck, then a sudden flame stabbed the darkness. Chindamani lit a small butter-lamp and set it back on a low cabinet. Her hand was trembling.
The girl was terrified. A long cut on her forehead was bleeding quite badly. Christopher stretched out his hand to wipe away the blood. She winced and drew away from him.
“What’s happening?” he asked in a low whisper.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
“I heard noises and went to investigate. There was someone in the corridor, one of the monks - I don’t know his name. He ... he told me to go back to my room, to stay there. He spoke to me as though he didn’t know who I was. Or didn’t care. I grew angry; I told him to mind his manners and explain what he was doing there. No-one is allowed on this floor without permission. He was carrying a stick. When I challenged him he just lifted it and struck me. I fell down. I think he was going to hit me again, I don’t know. Just at that moment someone called him from nearby and he left me.
“I went straight to your father’s chambers to look for help, but there was no-one there. At least .. .” She hesitated. He saw the lamplight twist about her face in a ragged, jittery sort of dance.
Her eyes looked frightened and blood ran over one eyebrow, matting its fine black hairs.
“There are several monks whose job is to serve the abbot,” she continued, collecting herself.
“They were all there. They .. .” She paused, leaning against the edge of the cabinet. Her hand touched the coiled tail of a sea-serpent. She had gone pale.
“They were dead,” she said in a hoarse voice. She shuddered, remembering. Christopher moved as though to take her in his arms and comfort her, but she flinched and held herself away from him.
It was too soon for comfort. Perhaps it would never be the right time for it. The blood had not yet dried on her forehead.
“There was .. . blood everywhere,” she stammered.
“The room was red with it, bright, bright patches of blood in every corner. It had run across carpets, cushions, everything. Pools of it had collected in hollows, little red pools. Their .. . their throats had been cut. Not gently, not cleanly, but with something large and heavy, a sword or a billhook, without hesitation. They were butchered like animals.”
“My father .. . Was he .. .?”
She shook her head, biting her lower lip fiercely with small white teeth.
“No,” she whispered.
“He wasn’t among them. I was afraid. But I stayed to look for him. I looked in all his rooms, but there was no sign of him Perhaps he has hidden somewhere. There are secret chambers, places he could take refuge. But I was frightened, I didn’t want to call out. It had sickened me, all that blood. I can’t tell you .. .” She shivered again, the memory taking her like an ague, filling her flesh with a dark, unexpungeable chill.
“Then I thought of Samdup and your son,” she said.
“I thought of them alone, not knowing what was happening. I ran up to the roof and got across to the lab rang but they were already gone.
Someone has taken them, Christopher. Perhaps they have already killed them. I’m frightened. I don’t know what to do.”
He gestured as if to comfort her again, but still she recoiled from his touch, not out of fear of him, but more from a simple dread of his humanity. The world had suddenly been brought close to her, and at this moment he was its nearest representative.
Christopher thought he knew what was happening. Zamyatin must have decided to act. To take control of Dorje-la alone would be a matter of little consequence to him. But to have both children and a base from which to manipulate them that would transform this little operation into something that could swing the political balance of Asia. But what had prompted his sudden action?
“Did you tell anyone of your plans to take Samdup away?” he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. -“Yes,” ‘she whispered.
“I told the abbot this morning. I wanted his permission to go.” She paused.
“He refused. He said he knew a little of Zamyatin and his plans, but that he was in control of the situation. He thought he could make use of Zamyatin.”
“Make use of him?”
She blinked and nodded again.
“Your father had his own plans, his own .. . dreams. Samdup was part of them, I think. And Zamyatin. And ... I think, your son.”
“What sort of plans?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know exactly. Dreams of power. Not for himself, but for the dharma, the doctrine of the Lord Buddha. Dreams of a barrier against all foreign interference, against Britain, against Russia, against China. There is a prophecy that when Dorje-la is ruled by a pee-ling, the world will be ruled from Dorje-la. Not literally, but in some sense. He believed that. He believed he had a destiny.”
“He talked of this to you?”
“A little,” she said.
“The rest I guessed. But I think it’s too late now. If you are right, if Zamyatin has taken control.”
“This morning,” Christopher continued, ‘were you overheard?
Or would my father have told anyone else?”
She hesitated, then a look of dismay came over her face.
“At one point Losang Khyongla was in the room. He’s the abbot’s secretary. He .. . I’ve just realized that he wasn’t among the dead men I found in your father’s quarters. You don’t think he .. .?”
Christopher nodded.
“Quite possibly. Anyway, that isn’t important now. We have to find out what’s going on. Do you have any idea where they might have taken my father and the boys?”
She thought briefly.
“The most likely place is Thondrup Chophel’s room. It’s a large room near the Lha-khang. Monks are often sent there to be punished. Thondrup and his assistants would take care of anything like that!”
“Who is Thondrup Chophel?” Christopher asked.
“He’s the Geku, of course. He keeps discipline in the monastery.
It’s normal for a Geku to be frightening. Some of the monks get out of hand. But I don’t like Thondrup. He’s .. .” She paused.
“Yes?”
“He can be brutal,” she said.
“The abbot has had to reprimand him several times for his severity. Once he broke a man’s arms, just because he made a mistake while reciting the Tangyur.”
“Why hasn’t he been replaced?”
She smiled wanly at him.
“This is Dorje-la,” she said.
“The Geku is never dismissed.
Discipline must come first. Broken bones can be mended.”
He looked back at her, his eyes full of concern.
“What about broken hearts?”
She sighed.
