Chapter 25

Bruce woke to a disagreeable sensation in both his head and inner core. Tucked under a woolen blanket, his body was caught between an outbreak of perspiration and a fit of shivers. Wrapped around his dislocated shoulder was a sling made out of tribal cloth, and blobs of mud-like substance spread over the many cuts and bruises he'd endured on his way down the slope. All around him were sticks of burning incense, and an elderly lady with strings of colorful beads around her neck, sitting before him with her hands clasped together in what seemed to be a time of prayer or meditation. She opened an eye, then both the moment she saw him moving. Gave him a little smile, then turned her head to the door and began yelling what sounded like, "Mr Peters!"

The door opened, and in came that dwarfish looking man Bruce had met before. He had a smile on his face, just like the lady beside him. "Bruce... was it? You were a little out of it when you introduced yourself."

Bruce nodded, gingerly touching his right temple as he winced. The uncomfortable sensation had not gone away. "And you're Mr Peters?" he guessed.

"Samwell Peters. Pleased to meet your acquaintance. This is Lhamo," he introduced the lady next to him. "She's the village physicist. The one who fixed you up."

The lady nodded, and said a couple of words in that language that Bruce couldn't understand. Sam listened intently, and his expression soured. "Lhamo says she did her best to heal your wounds, but you developed a fever from being out in the cold, and she doesn't think we have the right medicine to cure it." He shrugged apologetically. "Samiya is a very simple village. We make do with the herbs available to us in the woods, and once a month I take a trip to the city to get any supplies we might need. It might be something I'll have to do soon if your condition gets any worse."

"Mr Peters..." Bruce began.

Samwell grinned. "Just Sam, please."

Bruce corrected himself. "Sam. Listen... I need to get to the American embassy as soon as possible. I need to get word back home that I'm alive."

Sam traded a curious glance with Lhamo. "Your family not know that you're alive?"

"It's a long story, but I was taken against my will by a group of people up in those mountains for about half of a year now. I've barely managed to escape. I appreciate your warm hospitality, but I do need to leave soon. If you can offer me some directions to where the embassy is?"

Samwell suddenly tensed up, "Were you taken by the Ghul?"

Silence fell between them as it suddenly occurred to Bruce that Ra's might have control over the nearby villages. He wondered then if Samwell would send him back to Ra's, after all the trouble he had gone through to leave. "Yes..." he said nervously.

Clasping a hand around Bruce's, Sam sighed loudly as he looked on in relief. "Oh my Lord, I can't believe you managed to get away. They are indeed a tribe of evil, evil men."

Bruce let out a sigh of relief himself. "What do you know of them?"

"It is superstition around these parts that Ra's Al Ghul is the half deity of the god of war. That he's crumbled empires simply on whim, but not before luring them in with promises of greatness. There are tales of men around this region who ascend the mountain never to return. The people here speak of his name in fear. If what you say is true, then you're literally the only person I know who's come out of there alive. How did you do it?"

Bruce considered all his best laid plans to leave the compound, but ultimately, he knew that if it were not for the wolf, Lady Shiva would've surely bested him. "Matschie. Did I get the name of the wolf right?"

"Ah..." Sam replied, leaning back. Lhamo put a hand on his shoulder. "The fabled wolf saved you. People say that Matschie can sense goodness in a person. The fact that he accompanied you all the way down here says a lot about who you are inside."

"You believe that?" Oddly, it'd become less of a stretch to consider the possibility of a sacred wolf roaming the countryside. From Ra's immortality, to the prophecy, and now to Matschie - even though he'd arrived in Nanda Parbat a skeptic, he found himself warming up to the idea of the unknown.

Sam shrugged absently. "The land changes you, you know? I traveled here from Brisbane, three years ago, an aspiring missionary aide. Went to several places, didn't believe all the stories that were told to me - I mean, I was the one from the more advanced society. What could a backward little village in a remote part of the Tibetan valley teach me?" He nodded knowingly at Bruce. "You'd be surprised."

"I'm starting to see that myself. It's not the world that I'm accustomed to, but oddly I have seen merit to some of the things that they've said." Regardless, Bruce had had enough of Nanda Parbat, of Tibet and mystical men and mysterious wolves. He'd left Ra's to do one thing, and time wasn't going to wait. "Look, Samwell, Lhamo, I appreciate all the help, but I really do need to leave." He struggled to sit up, even though his temples were throbbing as heavily as drums.

Lhamo stood up and began fussing in her native language, pushing him back onto the bed.

"You need to lay down, Bruce," coaxed Sam. "Your fever's not going away yet, and is only going to get worse if you exert yourself. Lucky for you though, I happen to be in possession of a satellite phone. I was provided one by the association that sent me here, in the case of an attack on my person. You know how missionaries get kidnapped all the time," he chuckled regardless. "I'm to use it only in the event of an emergency. I think we can consider this one of such. Now who would you like me to call?"

There was only one person back in Gotham he'd been aching to call. A smile spread across his face just thinking about it. "Alfred Pennyworth."