Thunder God

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The journey from Ulan Bator to the Temple of the Golden Light took them through the Gorkhi Terelj National Park and high into the mountains far to the north of the city. It was late now, and the sun was almost below the horizon.

They drove for another hour after dark until emerging from woodland into a broad valley cloaked above by a grove of bright, white stars. Then they saw it, nestled in a corner of the valley, with a view taking in most of the western sky.

Hawke was speechless when the temple finally came into view.

Lit by the full moon, it rose into the night, its Tang dynasty hip-gable roofs elegantly perched above the various buildings that made up the isolated little complex.

They emerged from the car and walked across the gravel courtyard to the main entrance.

Scarlet looked up at a large statue in the center of the yard. “What the hell is that?”

Lexi laughed. “You’re looking at Samantabhadra, a bodhisattva, or an enlightened being. He’s riding an elephant out of respect for the Buddha’s mother.”

“Oh, one of those…”

They were met at the entrance by a thin, lean man with a shaved head who wore the traditional orange robes of the Shaolin.

Hawke stepped up. “We’re here to…”

“You were sent by Nambaryn Bayar,” said the man. “I know him well. He was a great friend of my father’s many years ago.” The man stepped forward and shook Hawke’s hand firmly. A good sign, Hawke thought. “You may call me Han.”

They walked through to a central skywell where a small fountain trickled gently in the cold night air. From there the monk took them into a small room looking out across the valley. A moment later another monk served green tea to everyone.

“I haven’t seen so many orange clothes since Gitmo Bay,” Scarlet said.

Karlsson laughed, but Hawke was less amused. “Enough, Cairo — keep your wit to yourself please.”

Han gave her the subtlest of dismissive glances and returned his attention to Hawke. “I know why you are here.”

“Then you’re better informed than I am,” Hawke said.

Han nearly smiled.

“You are here in search of the Thirteenth Chapter of the Secret History.”

“Apparently… yes.”

“The document you seek has been hidden from the world for eight hundred years by the monks of this temple. If it were not for Nambaryn’s endorsement of your quest you would currently be on your way home empty-handed.”

“I understand, but we need the manuscript to…”

“I know why you need it. You are not the first person in the world to search for the Great Khan’s tomb, or any of its many treasures. The latest is a very wicked creature by the name of Sheng Fang. We know him and what he wants to do.”

They sipped the green tea while Han spoke gently in the low light.

“This is about something very, very old, my friends. I wonder if you are truly ready for the journey to come.”

Hawke was feeling a tortured blend of impatience, anger and fear.

“But we don't know what our journey is,” Lea said.

Han smiled. “A long time ago, the Great Khan launched upon a quest to find the secret to immortality. To this end, he engaged several Tao and Buddhist monks to help him in his search, but they all told him that no such thing existed. He never believed them, and never stopped searching. Here, the subject of immortality is taken very seriously. You can imagine my reaction when I heard about the Swiss magnate Hugo Zaugg and his search for the vault of Poseidon.”

“You know about that?” Lea said. “I thought there was a media blackout on it?”

“Only on the true meaning of his death,” Han continued. “To the average man on the street his death was no more than a simple suicide induced by the worsening condition of his stock portfolio, but to those who know a little more, and who are able to use a greater context, the true meaning of his death was clear enough.”

“I don’t understand,” Lexi said.

“He means he knew who Zaugg really was long before his death,” Hawke said. “Am I right?”

Han nodded. “Let’s just say it was in our interest to keep a man like Hugo Zaugg under observation. He sought something a man like him should never acquire, after all.” He smiled broadly.

“Until I shot him,” Hawke said flatly, no smile.

“Which is why I am speaking with you now, and why I told Nambaryn to expect you — yes, indeed. In ending the Zaugg threat you proved yourself a friend of the Golden Light, even though at the time you did not know it. This is why we know you can be trusted now in the fight against Sheng.”

“Then you know why this Thirteenth Chapter is so important?”

Hawke was finally feeling like they were making progress.

“No one knows the full importance of the Thirteenth Chapter, Mr Hawke.”

“But I thought it was lost to history?” Scarlet said.

“Yes, and no. Five hundred years after it went missing, a Chinese copy was discovered in some private archives in Fujian.”

“But the original manuscript was never found, right?”

Han sipped his tea and took a long time before answering. “The original manuscript did indeed disappear from the world, but disappearing is not the same as being lost.”

“Go on.”

“As I say, the original manuscript is here, in a manner of speaking, in the Temple of the Golden Light, including the thirteenth chapter detailing Khan’s attempt to locate the source of immortality.”

“But how did it get here?”

“The monk who copied the chapters of the Secret History was forbidden to translate the final chapter, so he made a covert reference to it on the back of a painting that was on the wall of the room he was in when he made the copy. It was a fifteenth century image of one of the Four Beauties.”

“We know — it’s the one that was stolen by Chan.”

“Having told the world that the thirteenth chapter existed in the only way he could under such close guard, the original was then taken to the Temple where we have guarded it with our lives ever since. I am personally entrusted with guarding it, and with my life. It is an ancient and sacred privilege.”

“But how did Reichardt work out the clue was on the painting in the first place?”

“There was a note that the monk who had made the translation had requested devil’s milk to relieve pain in his hands from transcribing the Secret History. But Reichardt knew that devil’s milk — the milk of tithymalus or spurge, had another use — to leave a hidden message. That is when he must have added it all up and realized the monk made a copy. He spent his life searching for the final chapter, but never found it. Please, walk with me.”

They followed Han down a long corridor where he opened a narrow door and stepped outside into the moonlight. The walked through an ornamental garden, across a low bridge and finally made their way over a series of shiny stepping stones on a smooth gravel bed before arriving at small clearing.

Thirteen tall acer trees encircled a small area of smooth grass and in the dead center was a large boulder.

“This is all very wonderful,” Scarlet said, “but we don’t have much time.”

“She’s right, for once…” Lexi said. “Where is the missing chapter?”

“Is it in Khan’s grave?” Hawke asked. “If so, we need to go there right now.”

Han smiled. “You are already at Khan’s grave — is it not obvious?”

Hawke looked at the pleasant clearing. “This is Genghis Khan’s grave?”

Han nodded. “Yes. Buried beneath here is one of the greatest treasure hordes in all of human history.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened as the monk lit a candle and lifted the boulder to reveal a hole in the ground. As they descended into the tomb, Hawke saw the boulder was artificial and fixed on a hinge system to act as a kind of trap door.

It didn’t take them long to reach an underground chamber, much smaller than any of them had expected, and as Han slowly moved around the tomb, slowly lighting more candles, the vast array of treasure gradually began to glow before their very eyes.

“There must be fifty million dollars’ worth of gold in here…” Scarlet said, reaching out to touch an enormous gold plate.

Karlsson whistled loud and long. “Oh my.”

Lexi pointed in one of the corners. “And look at that heap of diamonds! That has to be impossible. Imagine how good they would look on my fingers.”

“It’s not impossible,” Han said. “This is one of the largest collections in the world. You are looking at some of the finest stolen gold and precious stones ever collected by man, and over there is the great man himself.”

He raised a candle to point at the far end where a small unmarked grave had rested silently for hundreds of years.

“That’s it?” Hawke said.

Han nodded. “A modest final end for a man with so much, but he wasn't happy. He dedicated much of his life to trying to cheat death, and in the end died trying, the irony is obvious.”

Hawke took a deep breath. “We’re not interested in Khan’s treasure, Han. We just need the missing chapter so we can locate the map and stop Sheng.”

Han was silent for a long time, nodding his head gently and smiling to himself. He seemed to like what Hawke had just said.

Hawke repeated hs plea. “Han? We just need the map!”

“But you already have it,” the monk said, smiling. “It is now time for us to fly to Beijing.”