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Episode 32    Part 2

Wind chimes sing – time flies – you have been warned -watch the skies

The statue stood resplendent even in its semi-completed state; alarmingly regal in its appearance, coated with rubies and diamonds that glittered like the night sky in the meagre light that illuminated the room.  According to my father’s findings the statue was in fact hollow, though whether that was intentional or not is unknown, however the craftsmen were able to keep it seemingly intact while it rested awaiting the still required rubies, diamonds and gold by a simple illusion.   They melted some gold to the right thickness and created several thin lengths of gold rope which they wrapped around the neck, stomach and legs and tied in a knot at the back of the statue in a way that was only visible to them.   This gave an early impression of what the completed statue would look like, and the gold bindings blended in so well with the body they were not even noticed … and the craftsmen could disassemble the statue whenever they needed to.  Finding it deemed to be hollow, my father wondered if it had needed so many men to carry it out of the cave to the truck and wondered if something else was going on, but he eventually decided that it had just been a little white lie by the guide to get some work for his friends.

   This room had been specifically designed to allow the craftsmen, three specialists selected and recruited by Rangor alone, enough shafts of light to be allowed in from the top of the mountain without allowing water in from the torrential  seasonal rain, or the sudden dry, coarse, blasts of sand when the winds blew hard and sharp against the rugged mountain wall during a sand storm.   This light along with the candles and the small furnace used to melt and shape the gold, allowed then to continue their work on the construction of the statue as soon as each batch of the new gold and stones arrived at the mountain hideaway.   The priest had been amazed by the job that the craftsmen were accomplishing, especially when they had never seen Rangor outside of the one dream where he had visited them, but the craftsmen had simply replied that the measurements were burnt into their minds … burnt there forever.

   By the time the statue had reached almost total completion, the sect members, with the aid of Rangor, had become virtually untouchable.   Whenever any of them were surprised by the law in the process of a theft and chased, some kind of disaster would befall the pursuers.  Lightning would strike in front of their horses causing them to rear and dislodge the riders; a sudden sandstorm would arise out of a calm night and blind their vision so they could no longer see the route that the thieves had taken.   And nobody ever saw the Punjani disappearing into the mountain.   The power that gave the thieves such obvious impunity from being captured soon gave birth to many legends over the years, and they became the most feared tribe in the land … even though nobody knew from whence they came.   And, of course they were not the Punjani to anybody but themselves and Rangor who had given the name.   To the rest of the country they were known as ‘The Phantom Demons’ , a name given to them by one of their victims.

   But as time rolled over into its sixth year under the helm of the priest, and the god that controlled them all, there was a sudden, never-ending, increase in the Punjani numbers.   This began to worry the priest and some of the older sect members because they realised that increased numbers in their tribe would increase the need for thefts, or their profits would be greatly reduced, and this, in turn, would attract more attention to their existence by the government.   And they were surprised that it was Rangor himself that was actually initiating the increase in the numbers.   They knew he must have had a reason, but he never revealed it to the priest.   All Rangor would say was that time was running out, that changes had taken place in the cosmos.   The future was changing … and the statue needed to be finished as soon as possible.   The priest was surprised by Rangor’s turn around from once saying that time was not of the essence, but what could he say?   Rangor was a god … and he was but a corrupt mortal who had sold his soul to the devil.

   The new members were, to a man, applicants who had arrived unannounced at the base of the mountain, though they, one and all, swore that Rangor had appeared in a dream and invited them to join up.   He had told them how to get to the mountain, and what would welcome them.   The priest was at a loss at what to do, so the new applicants were allowed access to the mountain and their illegal activities, but only because the priest decided any rejection of their application to join was sure to backfire on the Punjani themselves, because the discards were likely to vent their anger on rejection by betraying them to the authorities for the reward on offer by the government.   And simply killing the applicants also had the probability factor of creating a similar problem … especially when there were so many of them.   In his heart the priest knew that the married applicants would have told those that they had left behind where they were going, and if their loved ones became concerned they were taking too long to return to collect them, they too could very well complain to the authorities.

   The priest had sought Rangor’s advice when the first applicants had arrived, and for weeks afterwards, but he had received no reply.   The applicants had continued to grow in number, and the Punjani’s requests for advice fell on deaf ears on every occasion … then, to frustrate the priest and the elders even more, the Punjanti’s answer, when he finally replied, was but a simple ‘We need to increase our workload … you will need more workers to achieve our aim in  quicker time frame.’

   The priest and the Punjani elders found the Punjanti’s response to be perplexing at the very least,”   Rosetta continued, “but there was nothing that they could do but continue to admit them. 

    Soon too many applicants had arrived for the priest and those closest to him to feel secure.   Many of the original members had brought their wives and children once the changes to the structure of the caves had been completed, and the entire family had felt totally at home in their new environment.  The single men also fitted in well despite the loneliness and solitude by sharing time with the family units, forming friendships and joining social groups, participating in mental and physical activities such as sport and mind games.   They were discreet and rarely ventured to the surrounding villages, only participating in the intake of alcohol on special occasions … and even then not in excess, wily enough to pretend they had moved to the mountain because it offered them protection from the glaring sun in summer and the wind on cold winter nights.   The villagers who resided not too far a distance from them never once suspected what they really were, and the Punjani knew that patience was their virtue.   Under the Punjanti’s guidance they knew they would soon raise enough money to finish the statue and then they would enjoy the fruits of their labour: the rewards the Punjanti had promised.

   But the priest and the elders knew that with the new arrivals there were becoming too many to control and feed, too many to share their wealth with … even with the  multitude of raids that Rangor now commanded them to perform.   Certainly far too many of the newcomers unable to be discreet and hidden from the law.   Tongues were soon loosened in the nearby villages when unmanageable apprentice Punjani arrived at various taverns for a night’s drinking.    Drunken brawls brought even more attention to the newcomers.   And too many women from the villages became over friendly with too many of the newcomers, and even more fights brought more and more attention to the men of the mountain as they had become known.

   Then, on the eve of the third month of the sixth year, with their membership now reaching nearly two hundred, their illegal activities now triple what it been for the past five years … and increasing, disaster was about to rock the Punjani to their very core.

   Raman, an original member of the sect, had also become worried about the dark area that some of the ill-mannered new recruits were creating within the group with their lack of decorum and idiotic manner, and he feared his chances of obtaining the promised wealth was fast disappearing from reality, no matter how many raids they were now carrying out.    But he was not close enough to the priest and the trusted elders to discuss his concerns with any of them.   And he knew that they would be more worried about their situation than his.   Then one night he had a dream about a dream that he was having.   A dream where Rangor spoke to him with a warning that he was about to end his relationship with the Punjani, and advised him if he wanted to save himself, he should start making plans for his own survival -for the split would be sudden, and it wood be soon, but he was to tell nobody about his dream.

   The first dream then came to an abrupt halt, but Raman continued to dream, only he dreamt this time that he had awoken from the previous dream.   And in this dream he began to formulate a plan to ensure that he did survive and get his fair share of the wealth that they had all been promised.   And by the time that he really opened his eyes in the morning, when he truly awoke, he had came up with a plan to ensure he was going to finish off his days in comfort.

   First he made secret contact with the government.   Then, on the evening of the following day, he convinced some of the newer members he had befriended that the government had assembled its troops not too far away from the caves, and were going to attack at the break of day, not to arrest them, but to kill every single one of them.   He suggested that they should take the statue and some of the ornaments, and escape while they still could.    Once they were safe they would remove the rubies and diamonds from the statue, then hide the statue until they found a way to melt the gold and sell it.   They would be rich for life without any fear from the law … or the Punjani, he promised them, a promise he felt safe in making because he knew the Punjani would all be dead by morning.

   The small group he approached: young, naive, and greedy, readily agreed with his plans and were more than willing to kill anyone that stood in their way. 

   Two hours before the dawn they carried out their plan.”

   “How could they steal the statue if it was under guard and had seven locks fitted to it?”   Joseph interrupted, a small disbelieving laugh accompanying his words.

   “My father explains how, if you could please be quiet for a moment while I finish reading the story, young man.”  Rosetta said in a mocking chiding tone.

   “Sorry, Ma’am.”  Joseph replied in a quiet voice, his face appropriately replicating that of a young schoolboy who had just been chastised by his teacher.

   Rosetta smiled as she responded.   “Your apology is accepted.   Now please refrain from interrupting until you are absolutely certain that I am finished.”

   “Yes, Joseph, please her get on with it.”   Martin snapped, pretending that he was serious, but nobody took any notice of him.

   “Alright, Martin.   There’s no need to get all up tight.”   Rosetta interjected with the smile still on her face.   “They waited until the early morning, before the sun rose, then snuck out of their rooms and made their way up to the top floor where they managed to kill the two guards who had fallen asleep.

   But how did they get the door open without the keys, you ask?’   Rosetta asked teasingly, then smiled in anticipation of the answer she was about to provide.  “My father indicated that the ‘locked door’ was purely symbolic, and the only real defence against a break-in rested with the guards who were, by now, quiet dead.   Raman had chosen his team well.    He simply pointed to a spot about a third of the way down the other side of the door to where the locks were in place, where a narrow slit existed between the door and the wall.

   Roonan, a fine looking, strapping young lad in his early twenties, with large muscles and who possessed extraordinary strength … ooooh, I like the sound of that … he must have been gorgeous to look at I should imagine.”   Joseph and Martin looked at Rosetta who had the biggest grin on her face that Joseph had ever seen as she spoke, and it made him feel all warm inside for reasons he didn’t understand.   “But I go off path.”  she said with a laugh,   “The young man picked up the huge sword that lay beside one of the dead guards and rammed it through the narrow slit, then did the same with the other guard’s sword at a spot a third of the way from the bottom. 

    Still holding the sword, the young man turned to face the wall, extended his other hand and took a firm grip on the handle of the inserted sword with both hands.   He then put one massive foot against the wall, took a deep breath, then pulled the handle towards him with so much strength the sword broke in two, but not before the bottom of the door swung forward, snapped off its hinges.   He then used his massive muscles to do a similar thing to the sword at the top … and achieved a similar result.   Once the door was twisted in this manner he simply inserted his hands into the now much bigger space, and with a little help from the others the door was pulled completely open, now only attached to the frame by the bent latches on the far side of the mangled wreck that once was the security for the most valuable thing that the Punjani possessed.   The statue of their god and saviour … Rangor the Punjanti.

    The men quickly moved into the room and within seconds they had the statue in their hands and began climbing up the steps to the roof.   Raman had worked on the construction of the room and was aware that the roof door could be easily opened from inside the room itself.   He quickly set about putting the necessary operations into place … and by the time that the others had reached the top of the stairs, the roof cover was fully open.”

   “Wouldn’t somebody have seen the lights coming from the top of the mountain. or heard the noise of the roof cover moving?”   Martin asked hesitantly, not wishing to be muted by the story teller as Joseph had .

  “No,”   Rosetta replied,    “My father mentions that.   There was some kind of muffling system in place that prevented any noise to be heard when the false rooftop moved.   It had been designed that way to prevent anybody that may have been passing becoming aware of its existence should it be in operation when they travelled past   As far as the light is concerned, there would not have been a lot of light that could have been projected upwards.   Remember they only had candles to light up the room, and that was all just above floor level.   The room was not currently being used by the craftsmen, so there was no fire in the room, just enough light for them to see their way up to the roof, and the moonlight to use once they had reached the top.   Most of the light in the room in the daytime had been by the sun beating down on the mountain, but never had any light been projected upwards.

   Once they were in the open at the top of the mountain, Raman advised his fellow conspirators the best way to travel, and where to wait, then dropped back a little saying he had one more thing to do to stop them being followed or caught by the government troops.   Once he saw the others had crossed over the first rise, momentarily disappearing from sight, he walked over to a small patch of dry grass and twigs that he had placed there earlier in the day and set fire to it.   As soon as he saw that the fire was going to take, he quickly ran back in the direction of his escaping cohorts.   The fire lasted only for a few minutes – long enough to be seen by the government scout whose eagle eyes had long been on the watch out for Raman’s signal, but completely out of sight to the Punjani guard who patrolled the mountain several levels below where Raman was making his way to where the others would be waiting.

   As dawn broke, the troops did attack, killing all but the priest and a dozen Punjani who had managed to escape unbeknownst to the government troops, by hiding in a secret area of the communal mountain church that was only known to those currently occupying it … a secret hiding place designed by those hiding in it for such an emergency.   They had originally attempted to escape via the room that had held the statue, but as they approached the room they could see the dead bodies of the guards, and the damage done to the door.   It only took them only a second to discover that the statue was missing and as they stood in the now empty room they could hear noises seemingly coming from the open rooftop.  Though they were uncertain whether there was somebody up there, or it was simply a quirk of the cave littered mountain that gave way to echos from anywhere and everywhere within the walls of the mountain.

   They quickly fled back down to the safety of the church where they waited until they felt it safe enough to leave sometime early in the following morning.   But a ring, which bore the number thirty six, had been found near where the statue had stood, and it was later identified as belonging to Raman.   It was only the first one hundred members that had been given rings or pendants.   The newer recruits had had their numbers and markings tattooed on their body.   But each recruit had been recorded and the records decreed that if had been Raman that had betrayed them.”

   “That’s the number on this ring.   So how did it get to the farm then?”  Joseph interrupted.

   “I still don’t know.   My father did find it at the farm, but I read his entry wrong before.   What I was meant to read in his chicken scratching reference was that the priest escaped, and that he was the one that had found the ring.      The Priest and those  that had escaped with him were never captured.   And because there had been no prisoners taken – there was no one that the Government troops could question to obtain the names of any escaping members.   Nor had any records been found.   They had been with the Priest in his secret hiding place which was how he was able to identify Ranan as the owner of the ring.   

   The Priest and his followers eventually tracked down those that had stolen the statue and killed each one of them, but such was their anger at their former colleagues that they never questioned them … they simply killed them, and as a result of their impetuous behaviour the statue was never located.   Not that they cared at the time, hadn’t their god deserted them, they thought.   Wasn’t that like saying that he no longer had any interest in the statue … and if that was the case … why should they?

   The Phantom Demons, as the Punjani were known by the majority, were considered a spent force as a band of thieves after the attack on their fortress.   Too many people had heard about what had happened, how they had been destroyed by the government’s law enforcers, and they themselves, no doubt, had the impression that the Punjanti had deserted his flock as he hadn’t intervened in their demise.   So, as far as most people were concerned, the Punjani, under a different name, had come to the end of its reign of terror.

   But all legends are not necessarily based on accurately remembered facts, and assumptions are usually based on presumption and expectation, rather than known facts.   The money that they could have obtained from the statue could have set them up for a thousand life times, but the remaining members were just glad to be free of the accursed icon.   However, regardless of whatever had befallen the statue, the men still become individually rich with what they had been able to remove from the church when they finally left the mountain.   A fortune that included the diamonds, rubies, and gold that had been purchased from the proceeds of the last raid that the Punjani had performed.   A fortune which had, ironically, been all that had been needed to finish off the statue.   And being rich it was easy for them to blend into society at a higher level than they had ever been before … no one cared where, or how, they had made their money.   And they, of course, would have been most unwilling to provide that information should it have been requested.

   The survivors now called themselves the Sect of Thirteen, though they are still referred to collectively as The Punjani.   The Sect of Thirteen is because that was all that remained of the two hundred that once plagued the land as far as they were aware.   There is always the possibility of a splinter group of survivors, though that is very much unlikely.   The government troops were very thorough in their despatching of the Punjani.   Only Raman had been allowed to leave unharmed.   That had been the government’s promise: his reward for turning traitor.   Those in charge of the government troops were unaware that Raman had others with him when he had made his getaway, he was far too high in the mountain to see.   Nor were they aware of the valuable statue that the escapees were carrying, or what it represented as they had never heard of Rangor – and it is doubtful that they would have allowed them to continue their journey had they known.   None of the senior officers in the regiment, nor the one thousand strong platoon that were under their command were aware of the existence of Rangor – none that is, with the exception of the commander himself, whose sole task to please his new found benevolent god was to ensure that the statue was not noticed and that Raman made a safe getaway with it.  

********

   Time went by, the Punjani were all but forgotten by the people, and life was good for the sect of thirteen.   However, as sometimes happens in life, victims will often forgive those that harmed them, and long for the life they once had with them, regardless of the cost to the survivors.   Something like the Stockholm syndrome that  we recognise today.   And such was the case with the surviving Punjani members.   They still believed in Rangor, even though he appeared to have deserted them.   They longed for the protection he gave, for what he had provided.  As far as they were concerned he had been their saviour from going back to their past lives as born losers simply by providing them with the wealth they were now using to survive and remain free.

    And in their heart of hearts they knew he would return … and when he did he would explain his actions to them in a satisfactory manner, things would return to how they had been, and they would continue to serve him as they had before.   And until such time as these events took place they passed their allegiance and wealth on to their children, and the children passed it on to their children and so it continued. 

   My father believes the cult may still flourish today.   Well, we know that they do, don’t we, or at least they say that they are who they pertain to be, and we have no reason to disbelieve them … and they still search for the missing statue that they lost somewhere in Asia.   Even though it would appear that they now reside here, in England.   

  “Is that it now, Rosetta.   Are you really finished?”   Joseph asked with a laugh.  

   “No, there is one more thing that my father said that you should know.   He also believes that Rangor may also still exist … and has hooked up with the Punjani once again.”  

   “Now that could be a bit of a worry, if it’s true.”   Joseph noted, risking the wrath of his subject master, however, Rosetta instantly verbally agreed with him, as did Martin.

   “There was a sub-note to say that nobody really understood why Rangor had allowed the attack to take place,”   Rosetta added, “but it may have been preordained, because the huge sect had all but served its purpose … the statue was about to be completed … and they, the Punjani, had become disposable.   The extra members had only been enrolled to expedite the completion of the statue, perhaps because Rangor’s reason for creating it in the first place had changed, but it seems doubtful to believe that they would ever live to see the rewards that had been promised to t

   But there is a suggestion that the priest had known this was going to happen in advance.   This would explain why he was able to keep the other survivors under control after saving their lives.   My father also realised that the statue was never stripped of its precious jewels, because they had still been attached to the statue when he had dug it up from its burial site.   He believes it had been hidden and buried in the cave intact where he found it, so the deserters could come back and break it down to sell it later?

   My father also thinks that Rangor had not expected Raman to be killed before he revealed the source of the statue’s hiding place, but Rangor had not expected the anger that had raged through the hearts of the priest and his followers towards the traitors.    He had not expected the fury and venom that had run through their veins to be equal in strength as the blood that had gushed from their hapless victims.  He had simply expected Raman to remove the statue to somewhere safe until the priest eventually caught up to him.   Once the priest had caught up and taken possession, all he had to do was protect it until he had had a chance to locate a new craftsman who could complete the final fittings.

  And my father believes that this is what had persuaded Rangor to re-associate himself with the priest in an endless quest to locate the statue.    Somehow the Punjani found about my father’s discovery,” Rosetta said with a sad smile.  “Now he has hidden it, and we have to find it all over again.”

   “Maybe he didn’t discover it by accident.” Joseph said very quietly.

   “You have a different theory?”  Martin asked in surprise.

   “In part … most major discoveries of this magnitude are normally found in an area already decreed to be the known resting place of somebody known to history.  Like the ‘Valley of Kings’ where they found Tutenkahmen is that not correct?”

   “Yes.  I suppose so.”

   “And this Punjanti, this Rangor, was not well known, or am I mistaken?”

    No.   From what I have gleaned so far is that he was only known by the Punjani and possibly a few others, but my father is not specific about it.”  Rosetta replied before Martin could answer.

   “Even that is more than I know about Rangor.”   Martin admitted,   “Most of what I researched was about the Punjani.   And even that is not a lot.   They told me more about themselves than I discovered on the web.”

   “Which means that Rosetta’s father may not have heard of him before he found him either, or, at the very least, only heard about him just before discovering him.”

   “Sorry.  I don’t follow you, Joseph?”   Rosetta asked?

   “I think that I am starting to.”  Martin said, “Please go on, Joseph.”

   “This Punjanti didn’t have a final resting place like Tutenkahmen, for example.   He never made the history books.  He was not a recognized god – and he was not a pharaoh, or some other high-ranking official in whatever part of Asia that he was supposed to exist in … and Asia is made up of an awful lot of countries.    But his statue was stolen – a statue that, by all accounts, was the only such one in existence.   Even if he was a minor god you would have expected that there would have been miniature replicas for his worshippers in existence somewhere.    No, just one statue, and even that was not completed … and why did he so badly need to have it built in the first place?   I somehow doubt that it was for his ego.  I am sorry, but so much of the supposed history behind the Punjani doesn’t ring true.   Perhaps the ‘Punjani’ are just a bunch of criminals who want the statue of whoever it is supposed to represent simply for the financial value of it.    Or perhaps they are collectors who want something that nobody else has.   I am believing less and less about a killer god and his bunch of merry men … and more about the possibility of a group of bullying criminals who want to make a quick killing on a valuable item that they can’t find, and are more than willing to use any dirty trick in the book to make somebody else look for it on their behalf.”

   I mean, there seem to be no records of the statue’s possible location because it was more than likely that nobody had ever heard of this Punjanti, and yet by your father’s accounts of his reputation he should have been a part of history.   He should have been famous … or infamous, depending on how you view his actions.    I doubt there are more than half a dozen people in the world who are aware of his supposed existence –your father, your uncle, your mother, you, me and Martin, yet your father not only discovers this supposed missing statue, he suddenly knows all about him from information he is most likely getting from Doctor Google.   I am sorry, but something doesn’t add up here.”

   “Do you think my father made all this up, Joseph?”    Rosetta asked and the tone of disappointment wasn’t hard to miss, but Joseph wondered if it was disappointment in her father … or aimed at him.

   “No, Rosetta,”   Joseph replied softly, “but I am beginning to wonder if he had been used by somebody to bring the statue into the country … somebody who was aware of your father’s standing in government and diplomatic circles.   Rosetta, you said your father was well known in archaeological circles so there is a very good chance that several others knew where he was going on his expedition.   I think that maybe someone may have accidentally stumbled upon the statue, recognised it for what it was, and then used your father to move it to a safer place so that they could collect it later.    The trouble was your father didn’t know that and had taken security precautions too early for them to make their move.    When they tried to coax the information out of him he refused to co-operate and they went a bit too far with their attempts to force him to tell them where he had hidden it – and it backfired on them when he went into a coma.   Though, whether or not it was the Punjani is a different story.   I know they are trying to make a deal with us, but it may not have been them who had made the discovery in the first place.   What worries me is that we may have more than one party to deal with … and I don’t think that is a good thing.   And if I am right, then we had better tread lightly…and be very, very careful in our moves.   Well that’s my theory.”

   “Yes.  That unfortunately sounds quite plausible, Joseph.”   Martin agreed.

   “Supposing you are right, Joseph, do you think that there is an antidote?”   Rosetta asked.

   “I would rather like to think that despite all that I have just said, there is.”

   Rosetta’s face lightened up in response to Joseph’s reply.   “So what do we do now?”

   “Well, we have to go back to the farm and get access to the barn’s light-switch.    Once we do we must really look hard and long for some clues as to where they shifted the statue to.   Perhaps if we locate where it originally stood, we may be able to pick up drag marks or something similar.   Perhaps there will be recent heavy duty wheel marks there to indicate that a truck or a fork lift has been there.   But you want to know something?  I really can’t help feeling that the statue is still at the farm somewhere.  Somewhere where we have already looked.”

   “But the diary said that they had taken it somewhere else,” Rosetta objected.

   “No.  What you read was that they had hidden it somewhere new, but they didn’t actually say that it was not on the farm.”

   “He is right, you know,” Martin agreed.

   “Rosetta,” Joseph continued, “would you please be so kind as to read all the way through that phone diary and see what else you can pick up?  Perhaps he left a clue up in the clouds.”

   “Yes, darling.”  Rosetta purred, much to the amusement of the two men.

   “One more question?”  Martin asked.  “We will have to search the barn again.  What are we going to do if we run into the wild man again?”

   “We try to capture him and question him.  He may hold some answers.”  Joseph relied matter-of-factly.

   Rosetta shuddered at the thought, her mind racing back to the encounter at the window and she wondered which was going to be the worst – the spiders or the wild-eyed man. 

   “That should be a bit of fun, I don’t think.   I hope he doesn’t bite.  We might catch rabies.”   Martin said with a light chuckle,   “Ready for another drink?”

   “Yes, please.”  Joseph replied.

   “Rosetta?”

   “No, thank you, Martin.  What I have already had is making me hungry.   Besides it would be hard to read this diary with my head swimming.”  Rosetta replied.

      “Alright then, shan’t be more than a minute or two.”  Martin said with a cheery smile as he got out of his seat and headed towards the bar.

********

   And as he moved, Martin couldn’t help noticing just how deep Mary and her friends were in conversation.

Go to Episode 33 Part 1