The Destiny of Amalah (34 page)

They would become light headed and faint at intervals and sometimes, just taking one small step was a gigantic effort that robbed them of the little piece of energy that they had left. Sometimes they could trek for hours and sometimes they could only walk for a few minutes at a time. They would dig snow holes or take cover in caves whenever they needed to, or when night fell and it was far too dangerous for them to go on.

To say their journey was gruelling would be an understatement, but even then, when they had the use of magic; it was still a harsh and dangerous venture to undertake. Rakan and Rufus used all the magic they could to help them on their journey and between them, they conjured animals and fires and clothes, they made cold shelters warmer, made fires bigger and narrow caves wider. It was the time for them to find out what powers they had and how they could use them to their advantage.

They grew stronger by the day as they practised their art and memorised and used spells that Gaerwen had taught them; sometimes, they even made some spells up of their own. They had been on the mountains for over a month now and they could see Nepal below them and it looked very tranquil and extremely small.

In that month, Rakan and Rufus had discovered that they could conjure powerful energy and fire balls, which once they learnt how to use properly, they would throw at the mountains repeatedly and with great zest until they had carved out a cave for themselves and the others.

They felt a new sense of power now, one that stayed with them and one that grew as each day passed by. It seemed as though there was nothing they could not do between the two of them. The remaining four friends looked on them with awe at how powerful they had become but Kalon mostly looked on them with fear. He did not like all their power unleashed and unguided and he felt a great sense of foreboding but for now, he kept silent, for they had not given him any other cause for concern except for the use of their magic’s.

It was three months before they finally reached the last leg of their journey towards Qomolangma; now they faced a sheer climb of over a hundred feet to reach the plateau of the mountain. They came to a wide path and they decided that they would make their ascent from that point; the six tilted their heads backwards to stare at the mountain face. They took a long break from walking and they all perched at the bottom before they were to begin their final hike and as the sun rose, they started their ascent.

Waldon and Kenaz went first; they swung their pickaxes into the snow and ice and mountains, and inserted the iron grip that Gangay had given them and tied ropes to them making it easier for the others to climb. They climbed up and up, sometimes slipping but always catching their grip quickly; sometimes they stopped for breath, or to rest their tired limbs and body. When the two boys finally reached the top, they caught their breath before they stood up and looked ahead of them. They looked at each other in a shared understanding of the sight they were seeing and the feat that they had just achieved.

‘Let’s enjoy it with the others,’ Kenaz said.

‘You are right,’ Waldon said.

The two of them set to work at the top of the mountain and as the others climbed up they sent ropes down and hauled up the baggage that Rakan and Kalon had attached to it. When Ellora finally reached the top they helped her over the ledge and she too began helping; then came Rufus, followed by Kalon and lastly Rakan.

Now all six of them were standing on top of the mighty Qomolangma and they looked out to see the ripples of snow-covered mountains and beyond them, layers of snow that looked like clouds. They looked and looked and then they looked up to see the sky and they felt as though they could touch the clouds and speak to the gods from where they were.

They were overcome and emotional and each of them shed tears that seemed to freeze before they were supposed to leave their faces and hit the ground. They remembered all of what they had been through: the pain, the tears, the frozen faces, fingers and toes, and the hunger and the times that they had nearly lost their lives trying to get there. Right then and right there they all knew it was an almighty accomplishment and they knew that this achievement and this moment, would remain with them forever and no one would ever be able to take it away from them.

‘How do you feel?’ Rakan asked them all as they surveyed all that lay ahead of them.

‘Insignificant,’ Kenaz said philosophically. ‘Look, look at the world, and look at what we can see and look how tiny we are in all of this,’ he said deeply affected.

‘Inspired and spiritual,’ Ellora said. ‘Close to the gods somehow, I feel as though a new path in the journey of my life began from the moment I stepped onto the top of Qomolangma,’ she said.

‘I feel as though I am at the doorway of the heavens and I will
never
be the same again having seen what I have seen,’ Kalon said softly yet passionately.

‘I risked my life – it was worth it,’ Waldon said simply.

‘Content,’ Rufus said.

‘A man alive,’ finished Rakan

The six of them remained there staring, lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the journey they had taken and what it had taken to get there and the journey they were going to take out of the mountains. They thought about the mountains themselves and the snow that covered them, and the meaning of life – not to mention the meaning of their own lives.

They remained on the top of Qomolangma for two days and two nights and often they would stand on the edge and simply stare, and on the third morning they took one last look at Qomolangma from the top before they made their descent towards Tibet.

It took them just over a month to reach the bottom of the great mountain and reach the foothills of Tibet. They were not to meet with Gangay for another four weeks and so they ventured around Tibet and lived among the local people who were all extremely hospitable.

On the day they were to meet Gangay they rode back to where they had arrived and waited out of sight. They watched as the sun turned orange and sure enough Gangay appeared with their six horses; he went to the bottom of the mountain, which consisted of mainly rubble and led the horses that were with him, and then he sat down, watched and waited.

He took out his flask and something to eat and watched as the sun got ready to set and as he busied himself he wondered if the six of them had made it through Qomolangma and he wondered if any or all of them were alive, he hoped that they all were. His mind wandered as he ate and drank and when he was nearly finished his food and his drink he felt a tap on his shoulder.

‘I must say Gangay it’s always good to see you,’ Rakan said smiling at the young man.

‘Rakan! You made it!’ Gangay exclaimed in surprise and joy.

‘Yes I did – we all did,’ he said still smiling.

‘You did!’ Gangay said, not hiding his surprise.

‘Did you ever have a doubt?’ Rufus asked wryly, as he stepped out from behind a tree.

‘Several,’ said Gangay and then he flashed a smile at the two men.

‘It’s so good to see you,’ Gangay said happily and excitedly as he hugged Rakan and then Rufus.

The other four came out from behind the mountain and rushed to where Gangay was to greet and hug him. ‘It’s so good to see all of you, I was so worried.’

There was excitement and happiness and laughter and more excitement when they were united with their horses. The seven of them and the horses made their horses made their way to warmer shelter and they once again sat around after eating a hearty dinner and drinking hot spicy sweet tea.

They recounted their stories to Gangay and his expressions ranged from excited to horrified, to sad to awe and once again happiness as they told him of their reaching the top of Qomolangma and their feelings on what they saw and them finally safely reaching Tibet, safe and alive and without serious injury. He knew that they had all conquered Qomo he sensed it and he saw the change in all of them: he could not describe it but he knew it was there. They talked until first light and then caught a few hours sleep before they rose again.

He six spent three days in Tibet with Gangay and in that time they ate, travelled and roamed around together, before Gangay decided it was time that he too went on his travels. Once again it was time to say their farewells but this time, it was a truly sad occasion, for they knew it would be a very long time if ever; before they saw Gangay again and this time, it was he who was leaving them.

They hugged and shook hands and said their goodbyes and Gangay climbed and saddled his horse, and then he turned to them and smiled before he spoke.

‘What will you do now?’ he asked them.

‘Go on,’ Rakan answered.

Chapter 15

And on they went! On through to Tschin, a mysterious land if ever there was one. Ah, I’m sorry, I forget which time I am in sometimes, it was Tschin then but now it’s China. That’s one thing that I find strange about earth’s realm and its people, is that nations change their names and yet fundamentally remain the same and some nations change fundamentally and the name remains the same. But before I digress to nation name changing and strange human habits – of which there are many – but let me get back to the six young friends travelling through Tschin.

If Nepal had been spiritual, then Tschin was magical and mystical; Tschin was a land that was virtually separated from the rest of the nations by virtue of its geography. Separated by the Himalayas at one end and water at the other, and the way the people of Tschin lived, was a testament to that fact.

Everything about Tschin was different! Wherever they had travelled, they had found some similarities with their beloved Amalah and some similarities between the countries themselves, but not here – here life had taken its own turn. They travelled through Tschin with their horses taking in their surroundings, only this time, the people stared at them, and stared at them until they were out of sight.

‘Why do they stare so?’ Kalon asked.

‘They have never seen people like us before,’ Rakan said.

‘Like us?’ Kalon asked.

‘White like us, or black – like Ellora and Kenaz.’

‘Really?’ Kalon said, genuinely surprised and remembering the mix of people in Amalah.

‘Remember what we had to do to get here brother and Gangay says that on the other side of Tschin is water.’

‘So they are cut off.’

‘Yes and they are here creating their own world.’

‘Still, it’s rather strange being stared at quite so much and by everyone.’ ‘I know,’ Rakan said with empathy.

‘Still Kalon, this is the most attention you’ll probably ever get, so enjoy it while it lasts,’ Kenaz said teasingly.

Kalon gave Kenaz a quirky look and did not reply to Kenaz. He simply laughed and carried on riding.

‘Your brother is not as easy to goad as he was before we set off on our travels,’ Kenaz said to Rakan lightly.

‘I know,’ Rakan replied smiling and the two boys looked at each other and laughed as they continued to ride on.

The six of them travelled on horseback through Tschin, they rode through the woods and villages and observed the houses made of bamboo and upturned roofs. They rode through Yunan and marvelled at the masses of limestone pillars that were tall and grew sprouting from the lush green grass. The pillars looked like grey ground rocks scattered throughout the field, yet somehow the scattering had remained orderly.

They noticed how the people dressed and Ellora especially, loved their style; she eyed the long silk robes and gowns that men and women wore and their upturned brocades and various hats that showed a persons status or an occasion, and she admired how the women wore their long black hair. It was either plainly put back or elaborately tied up, but either way, it was chic.

Wherever they went, the clothes remained the same but the colours and materials varied, from the peasants working the land who were dressed in grey or black, to those in the mini towns who were dressed in red, yellow or green mixed with elaborate gold stitching.

On they went through the Silk Road and along the Yellow River catching and eating food as they travelled. They loved Tschin so far: the climate was pleasant and the terrain was easy; the people kept to themselves mostly, but the six were self-sufficient and were happy to watch their lives from afar, but when they reached the city of Xian everything changed.

The city was alive and bursting with what seemed a low-key yet constant energy and it was there they met Li. Li was a twenty-year-old Tschin man and he had been one of the few to travel beyond Tschin and he could converse with them in Latin and English.

‘Welcome,’ the man said to the six in a heavy Tschin accent.

‘Thank you,’ Ellora replied.

‘Please, you must be hungry now, come to my house and I will prepare a meal for you and then you may rest.’

‘That’s very kind,’ Kenaz said following Li.

The six followed Li to his house and when they arrived, they tied up their horses next to the two that were already there. They entered the large house with the upturned roof and were pleasantly surprised by the inside; the rooms were very simple yet elegant, warm and inviting, and Li immediately made them feel welcome. While they were sat in his living room he made his excuses before he went and prepared tea for them and then came back to them shortly afterwards.