Kingdom of the Golden Dragon (28 page)

“In that case, I would have to spend the rest of my life in this valley, with no companions but the Yetis. No, thanks. I'll go with the rest of you, Jaguar,” she replied.

“At least here you would be relatively safe. I don't know what we're going to find in that abandoned monastery, but I'm sure it won't be pleasant.”

“Don't treat me like a child. I know how to take care of myself, I've done it for thirteen years. Besides, I think I can help.”

“All right,” Alex conceded, “but I want you to do exactly what I say.”

“Not a chance. I'll help any way I can,” Nadia replied. “You aren't an expert; you know as little about fighting as I do.” Alex had to admit that she wasn't far off the mark.

“Perhaps it will be best to leave by night; that way we will reach the other end of the tunnel at dawn, and can use the morning hours to get to Chenthan Dzong,” Dil Bahadur proposed, and Tensing agreed with his plan.

After filling their bellies with a generous meal, the Yetis all lay down and started to snore—without removing the new helmets they had adopted as a symbol of bravery. Nadia and Alexander were so hungry that they wolfed down their ration of roasted
chegno
despite the bitter taste and bits of singed hair. Tensing and Dil Bahadur prepared their
tsampa
and tea, then sat to meditate facing the enormity of the firmament, whose stars they could not see, because by night, when the temperature fell in the mountains, the mists from the fumaroles turned into a thick fog that covered the valley like a cottony mantle. The Yetis had never seen stars, and for them the moon was an inexplicable halo of blue light that sometimes shone through the mists.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Fortified Monastery

T
EX
A
RMADILLO PREFERRED THE
original plan for getting out of Tunkhala with the king and the Golden Dragon: a helicopter outfitted with a
machine gun, which would land in the palace gardens at a specified moment. No one would have been able to stop them. The air force of that country consisted of four antiquated planes acquired from Germany more than twenty years before and flown only on New Year's Day to drop paper birds over the capital, to the delight of the children. It would have taken several hours to get them ready to give chase, and by then the helicopter would have had more than enough time to reach safe haven. The Specialist, however, had changed the plan at the last moment, without explanation. The message had said that it was not in their best interests to attract attention, and even less to machine-gun the peaceful inhabitants of the Forbidden Kingdom; that would provoke an international scandal. Their client, the Collector, demanded discretion.

Armadillo had no choice but to accept the second plan, which was, in his opinion, much riskier than the first. As soon as he captured the king in the Sacred Chamber, Armadillo had taped his mouth and given him an injection that anaesthetized him within five seconds. The instructions were not to harm him; the monarch had to be alive and uninjured when he reached the monastery so they could extract the information they needed if they were to decipher the statue's messages.

“Be cautious. The king is trained in martial arts, he can defend himself. I warn you, though, that if you hurt him you will pay for it dearly,” the Specialist had said.

Tex Armadillo was beginning to lose patience with his boss but he didn't have time to state his misgivings.

The four bandits were frightened and impatient, though that didn't stop them from stealing some of the gold candelabra and incense burners. They were starting to pry the
precious metal from the walls with their daggers when the American barked his orders.

Two of them took the inert king by the shoulders and ankles, while the others lifted the heavy gold statue from the pedestal of black stone where it had stood for eighteen centuries. The reverberation of the dragon's chants and bizarre noises still echoed in the room. Tex Armadillo did not pause to examine the statue, but he assumed that it functioned as some kind of musical instrument. He didn't believe it could predict the future; that was a myth concocted for the ignorant, but it didn't really matter: the intrinsic value of the object could not be measured. How much would the Specialist make from this mission? Many millions, he was sure. And what would his share be? Barely a tip by comparison.

Two of the Blue Warriors strapped some cinches from their horses under the statue. As they struggled to lift it, Armadillo realized why the Specialist had told him to bring six men. Now he badly needed the two he had lost in traps in the palace.

Even knowing the way and how to skirt the obstacles did not make their return easier; the king and the statue slowed them down greatly. They soon realized, however, that, taken in reverse order, the traps were not being activated. That afforded them some relief, but they didn't linger or lower their guard; they feared that this palace held further disagreeable surprises. They reached the Magnificent Door without incident. There they saw the bodies of the two guards they had attacked, just as they had left them. No one noticed that one of the young soldiers was still breathing.

Using the GPS, the robbers made their way through the labyrinth of rooms and doors and finally emerged into the dark garden of the
palace. The rest of the band was waiting, along with Judit Kinski, whom they held prisoner. They had followed orders and did not drug or mistreat her. The bandits, who had never seen the woman before, did not understand the purpose of taking her with them, and Armadillo did not offer any explanation.

The men had commandeered a truck from the palace, which was parked outside, beside the Blue Warriors' horses. Tex Armadillo avoided looking Judit in the eye. She was quite calm, given the circumstances; he motioned to his men to put her in the truck bed along with the king and the statue, and cover them all with a tarp. He got behind the wheel—no one else here knew how to drive—and the leader of the Blue Warriors and one of his men joined him in the cab. As the truck headed toward the narrow mountain road, the remaining men scattered. They would meet later at a spot in the Forest of the Tigers, again following the orders of the Specialist, and from there they would begin the trek toward Chenthan Dzong.

As they expected, the truck was stopped as they left Tunkhala, where General Myar Kunglung had posted sentries to control the road. It was child's play for Tex Armadillo and the bandits to overpower the three men who were standing guard, and to take their uniforms. The trunk was painted with the emblems of the royal house, and in the sentries' garb they passed the remaining road blocks without being stopped, heading toward the Forest of the Tigers.

The enormous woods had originally been the royal hunting estate, but it had been several centuries since anyone had devoted himself to that cruel sport. The huge park had been turned into a nature preserve where the rarest species of plants and animals in the Forbidden Kingdom flourished, and tigresses went there in the spring
to drop their cubs. The unique climate of that country, which, according to season, ranged from the temperate humidity of the tropics to the winter cold of high mountain regions, encouraged the growth of extraordinary flora and fauna, a true ecological paradise. The beauty of the surroundings, with its thousand-year-old trees, crystal-clear streams, orchids, rhododendrons, and brightly colored birds, had absolutely no effect on Tex Armadillo or on the bandits. The one thing that mattered to them was not to run into any tigers and to get out of there as quickly as possible.

The American untied Judit Kinski.

“What are you doing?” yelled the head bandit threateningly.

Without a word, the woman rubbed her wrists and ankles where the rope had rubbed raw red marks. Her eyes were studying the place, following every movement of her kidnappers, and always returning to Armadillo, who studiously avoided meeting her eyes, as if he couldn't take the force of her gaze. Without asking permission, Judit walked to where the king lay and delicately, taking care not to strip the skin from his lips, removed the adhesive gag. She bent over him and listened to his chest.

“The effect of the injection will wear off soon,” Armadillo commented.

“Don't give him any more, his heart could stop,” she said in a tone that seemed more like a command than a plea, fixing her chestnut-colored eyes on Armadillo.

“It won't be necessary. We just have to get him on a horse,” he replied, turning his back to her.

As the first rays of the sun filtered through the trees, the light turned as golden as honey, waking the monkeys and birds that erupted in a noisy chorus. The night dew evaporated from the ground, wrapping the landscape in a yellow fog
that blurred the outlines of the gigantic trees. A pair of pandas rocked lazily in the branches above their heads. The sun was completely up by the time all the band of the scorpion sect had gathered. With the full light, Armadillo shot a number of Polaroid photos of the statue, then gave the order to wrap it in the tarp they had used in the truck and tie it up with rope.

Now they would have to abandon the vehicle and continue up the mountain on horseback, following overgrown trails that no one had used since the earthquake had changed the local topography, and Chenthan Dzong, as well as other monasteries in that region, had been abandoned. The Blue Warriors, who spent their lives on horseback and were comfortable in every kind of terrain, would have the least difficulty getting there. They knew mountains well, and they also knew that once they collected their reward in money and weapons they could reach the northern border with India in three or four days. As for Armadillo, he had the helicopter, which was to pick him up at the monastery with his prize.

The king had regained consciousness, but was still under the effect of the drug; he was confused and dizzy, with no idea of what had happened. Judit helped him sit up, and explained that they had been kidnapped and that the bandits had stolen the Golden Dragon. She took a small flask from her purse, which, miraculously, she hadn't lost in the confusion, and gave him a sip of whisky. The liquor brought him to his senses, and he was able to get to his feet.

“What does this mean?” the king exclaimed in a tone of authority that no one had heard before.

When he saw that they were loading the statue onto a metal, wheeled platform to be pulled by horses, he realized the magnitude of the disaster.

“This is a sacrilege. The Golden Dragon is the
symbol of our country. There is a very ancient curse that will fall upon the person who profanes the statue,” the king warned them.

The leader of the bandits raised a fist to quiet the king, but the American pushed him away.

“Shut up and obey, if you don't want more problems,” Armadillo ordered.

“Release Miss Kinski,” the king replied firmly. “She's a foreigner, she doesn't play any part in this matter.”

“You heard me, shut up or she'll pay the consequences, do you understand?” Armadillo warned him.

Judit took the king's arm and whispered please to be calm, there was nothing they could do for the moment and it would be better to wait for their chance to act.

“Come on, let's not waste any more time,” the spokesman for the bandits said.

“The king isn't up to riding yet,” Judit said when she saw him stagger like a drunk.

“He will ride with one of my men until he can look after himself,” the American decided.

Armadillo drove the truck into a hollow, where it was half-hidden, then covered it with branches. As soon as that was done, they began their trek, single file, up the mountain. The day was clear, but the peaks of the Himalayas were lost in patches of clouds. They would have to climb continually, passing through a region lush with bananas, rhododendrons, magnolias, hibiscuses, and many other semitropical species. Higher up, the landscape changed abruptly; the forest disappeared and they would encounter dangerous precipices and often be blocked by huge boulders that had rolled from the peaks, or waterfalls that turned the ground into a slippery mud pit. The ascent was risky, but the American had confidence in the skill of the Blue Warriors and the great strength of their mounts. Once they
were in the mountains, no one could catch up with them, because no one would have any idea where to look for them and, in any case, they would be too far ahead of everyone else.

• • •

Armadillo did not suspect that while he was stealing the statue in the palace, the bandits' cave had been dismantled, and its occupants, hungry and thirsty, bound two by two, lay terrified that a tiger would catch their scent and finish them off for dinner. The prisoners were lucky, because before the big cats—so plentiful in this region—found them, a dispatch of royal soldiers had arrived, sent by the general after Pema had told him the location of the camp.

Pema and her exhausted companions had come upon a rural road where finally they met a farmer who was taking his produce to market in a horse-drawn cart. First, because of their close-cropped heads, he had thought the girls were nuns, but then he noticed that all of them except one were dressed for a festival. The man had no access to newspapers or television, but, like everyone in the country, he had heard over the radio that six young people had been kidnapped. He hadn't seen their photographs, and had no way of recognizing them, but one look was enough for him to realize that these girls were in trouble. Pema had planted herself with outstretched arms in the middle of the road, forcing him to stop, and in a few words had summed up their situation.

“The king is in danger; I must get help immediately,” she concluded.

The farmer turned around and, urging his horse to a fast trot, took them to the small village he'd just left. There they found a telephone, and while Pema tried to communicate with the authorities, the women of the village began tending to her companions. The girls, who had
shown great courage during those terrible days, broke down and cried when they knew they were safe, begging to be taken to their families as soon as possible. Pema was not thinking about her family, however; her concern was for Dil Bahadur and the king.