Curioso went on: "I believe he is too far gone, beyond into the unbounded evil. Only the Geshe could have brought him back, he is the one who would have died for him when it was a question of dying. My brother was reborn in hell."
Annette said: "Then how is he to be freed?"
Curioso looked at her, and raised his palms in homage. "I do not know how to defeat him, but what you say is on the true path."

They had been moving down into a rift between the plateau where they had spent the night and the trail back into the lower reaches of the valley. They trekked on through high winds and snowfall for a hour, and from time to time in the pauses of the wind they heard a strange tinkling noise somewhat behind them. Curioso thought it might be Dominic, but in the swirl of snow there was nothing. The storm then subsided somewhat, and the group looked back, and they saw, coming down from a side trail, struggling with the wind, a parade of sherpas, some carrying parcels and packs, and clashing finger cymbals and bells as they went. In the midst of the parade, a closed sedan chair was hefted along by a cluster of men. As they dropped down into the rift, the sound of music came clearer.
"Who is it?" Curioso asked Tirseng.
Tirseng smiled. "An old friend. Princess Tashalan."
Curioso winced. "Oh Lord Buddha. "
The caravan came closer. Annette tugged on Curioso's sleeve. "Who?"
"Princess Tashalan. She and I are old friends."
"How old? How friendly?"
"Well, at one stage she asked me to marry her."
Annette looked at him askance. "Yes?"
"Since she already had three husbands -- Tibet, you know -- it didn't appeal much."
The caravan caught up, and several of the Sherpas greeted each other. There was a buzz of noise, some discussion around the sedan chair, and then the richly embroidered curtain was flung back into the cold wing.
"Shinturnam, Suvikranta, is it you?" intoned a fluted voice.
"Yes, Princess, I have returned."
Annette said in a stage whisper to Tirseng: "What does that mean?" Tirseng blushed. "It means, He who vanquishes my soul utterly within".
Curioso went over to her chair, now lowered on the ground. The wind whipped over the caravan party, flapping the curtains, and spoiling some of the effect. He bent down and kissed the hand extended.
An exquisitely beautiful face now emerged from the square of darkness, and smiled. "Are you too on the way to see the Prince, you and ---"
"Apologies, Princess. You will remember Tirseng from the Ballet of the Celestial Field during the Dalai Lama celebrations in Llhasa."
Tirseng came forward. "Yes," she said," Nordpal, I remember. You were almost as handsome as Shinturnam in the Victory Banner display." Tirseng blushed, as only a Tibetan can blush.
Curioso said: "And this is my -- " and he paused for a moment, "-- my Betrothed. Annette Marceau. The Princess Tashalan." The two women nodded at each other. The Princess spoke: "My dear, what a prize. I can see why he would abandon these paltry hills for the sake of beauty like yours. You must love him very much. "
"Oh," said Annette, "He is pretty good raw material. I have two or three at home just as good as him, if not better. Don't you find that a spare for a rainy day is just the thing?"
Tashalan looked appraisingly at her, smiled narrowly, and then turned her attention back to Curioso: "Shinturnam, will you and your party accompany us the rest of the way? We have much to speak about, you and I."
"Certainly, Princess." And with much hemming and hawing, and the lifting up again of the sedan chair, the caravan moved on into the valley.