Cassie eyed the stairs warily. “How many are there?”
“Let me check.” Griffin pulled a small guide book out of his pocket. “It says there are one hundred and twenty steps though if you’d prefer to ride...” He motioned toward a series of chairs that had been lined up beside the stairs. Each chair was fitted with two wooden poles. Anticipating Cassie’s next question, Griffin added, “These chairs are called palanquins. I think the chaps lounging nearby would be happy to convey you to the top for a price.”
Cassie smiled and shook her head. “No thanks. I’ll walk.”
They began the trek upward. The stairs were bordered on either side by stone retaining walls and trees which Griffin identified as mango and tamarind. More than a few merchants had set up stands along the way to sell votive statuary and souvenirs.
Midway through their climb, Cassie began to feel as if she was being watched. She turned to look behind her and realized for the first time that there were monkeys everywhere. Hanging from the trees, scampering up the stairs, sitting on the walls. Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention, but the monkeys were keeping close tabs on the tourists.
As they trudged upward, Griffin continued to scan his guide book. “Oh, I say, this is amusing. It says here to watch out for the—”
“Hey!”
A monkey had jumped onto Erik’s backpack and was attempting to work open the zipper. The paladin turned, trying to shrug one of the shoulder straps loose. In the meantime, another monkey grabbed the bottle of water dangling from his free hand.
“What the hell!” Erik shook off the first monkey and ran after the second who had hopped onto a stone wall and was unscrewing the cap of the bottle.
Cassie and Griffin dashed after him.
Erik was about to snatch the bottle out of the monkey’s paws when it reared up on its hind legs and bared its teeth at him.
Cassie put a warning hand on his shoulder. “Dude, unless you want to go home with a case of rabies, I think you should let the fuzzy bandit keep the water.”
Erik scowled, first at the monkey and then at his teammates who were struggling to keep straight faces. He removed his backpack and clutched it to his chest protectively. “At least if they try the zipper again, I’ll see them coming.”
“Yes, very wise of you,” Griffin agreed solemnly.
From somewhere above them on the stairs, they heard a yelp of surprise. A few seconds later a monkey scuttled past them gripping a candy bar.
“As I was about to say,” Griffin continued. “The guide book advises that we should beware of the Rhesus monkeys which populate the island. They are highly adept at snatching food and drink if you are unwise enough to display those items in plain view.”
“Already got the memo.” Erik gave a wry smile.
They resumed their climb, careful to give the monkeys a wide berth.
When they reached the top step, a broad courtyard opened out before them. The cave to which it led was unlike any the trio had encountered before. It was an immense square aperture that had been hollowed out of the hillside. Massive stone columns supported the weight of the roof. In addition to the main entrance facing north, the east and west sides of the cave opened out onto courtyards, allowing natural daylight to illuminate the interior.
Griffin referred to his guide book once again. “The artwork in this temple was supposedly carved sometime between the fifth and eighth centuries. Nobody is sure who the artists were or why they chose this spot. The figures depict the various manifestations and acts of the Hindu god Shiva. All the images are painted basalt—or rather they were painted until most of the color wore off.”
Two huge bas-reliefs flanked the north entrance to the cave. Each one was over ten feet high.
The scrivener read, “The figure to our left seated in a meditative posture is a depiction of Shiva as the Lord of Yoga. And to our right is Shiva as Lord Of The Dance.”
“Lord of the Dance, huh?” Cassie’s voice held a note of mischief. “You mean he’s the ancestor of the scary Irish tap guy?”
Griffin rolled his eyes. “Very amusing. The Dance refers to the Cosmic Dance of creation, not Celtic step-dancing.”
Erik walked up to the relief and squinted at it critically. “I can’t see him dancing anywhere since both his legs are missing. A couple of arms gone too. Good thing he had about ten to start with.” Directing his question to Griffin, he asked, “Did somebody vandalize this temple?”
“That would have been the Portuguese,” the scrivener informed him. “When they first came to rule the area in the sixteenth century, they engaged in target practice in this cave. The Christian Europeans saw no reason to treat the statuary of heathen idols with respect.”
As they advanced into the interior, Cassie noticed that many of the figures which decorated the walls were missing arms or legs. In some cases, the facial features had been chipped away where bullets had struck them.
Midway through the cave, the trio paused before a free-standing stone chamber. Each of its four sides held an open doorway guarded by sculpted gatekeeper figures. Inside was a dome-shaped black rock.
Before his companions could ask, Griffin said, “That would be a Shiva lingam. The rock represents the power-center of Shiva. Many Western observers have described linga as phallic objects, but some are egg-shaped. The majority are made of meteor rock.”
“Meteor rock?” Cassie echoed in surprise. “Then these linga are baetyls like the Sage Stone?”
“Yes,” the scrivener agreed. “Just as the Minoans revered the Sage Stone, and as Muslims make pilgrimage to kiss the black stone at Mecca, Hindus would regard objects made from meteorites as epiphanies of the divine.” He paused to study the short round pillar. “Of course, I’m not sure of the origin of this particular lingam, so I
