chapter 48

Nemesis

“We’re here, all right,” Nate mused, and added, “best of luck with those wasps, Gunn.” Accustomed as William was to the horrors of war, this was altogether different.

Warriors took up positions behind them. The prisoners’ hands remained bound.

The king stepped forward, accompanied by the queen. Nate glanced up and received a swift whack from behind. He got the message and averted his eyes.

To their surprise, the female servant emptied the contents of their packs in front of them. They hadn’t seen any of their gear since the previous evening and figured that everything was gone.

The queen gave their items a desultory push with her foot, followed by an arrogant sneer. The king nodded to his wife, who raised William’s head by his chin.

Her eyebrows arched when she saw the gold Saint Christopher medal; she looked to the king, searchingly. The king spoke to the servant by his side, who left immediately.

“They’ve seen that thing before, Gunn,” Nate whispered. “This could either be bad for us, or extremely bad for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“If they think we’re something other than men, say spirits or such, we’ll not get to see another sunrise.”

“They don’t seem to be the type to be overly concerned with spirits.”

A kick silenced them.

The servant, returned from his mission, spoke to the rulers.

The king walked over and stopped directly in front of Nate. His face almost touched the American’s. He stood unmoving, his mouth downturned, and stared into Nate’s eyes. Nate felt this was a critical moment; his mouth went dry. He clenched his fists to stave off the tremor that tried to run up his spine. William labored to loosen his bindings; they chafed his wrists as he worked at the stubborn cords.

After several tense seconds, the king drew out a long, finely honed blade. He held it beside the American’s face.

With a single, swift motion the blade flashed.

The bindings on Nate’s wrists parted.

Next, William’s hands were released. The British officer rubbed his sore wrists.

The monarch waved dismissively. Without another word or a glance, the rulers of the Sacred Land departed, accompanied by their royal guards.

“They must have found the other medal, the one the Sheridans gave their son,” William ventured quietly. In the absence of the royals, the warriors didn’t seem to mind if the captives talked together. “He must have made it this far.”

“Gave them pause, Gunn, seeing the same exact amulet. I’ve told you that this sort of thing’s very strong medicine.”

“I’ve decided, Bidwell, you have not a single benighted idea what you’re talking about.”

The guards pushed them roughly along the path, away from the waterfall and the orchids. Torches along the high palisades of the Amazonian city illuminated the road leading back to the settlement.

Outside the entrance to the city, a line of the dreaded acacia bushes was visible in the faint torchlight. Just past the bushes, the guards led them over to a deep black hole surrounded by a low wall. One of the guards dropped a torch into the pit and signed for them to come closer. The bottom of the hole quivered with countless snakes slithering away from the burning torch, over one another and through piles of yellow bones.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble,” Nate said to the guards.

They received sharp prods from the blunt end of spears to get them moving again. William winced. “Your signing is useless, Yank; these people speak with jabs and kicks.”

A broad avenue led through the main entrance gates; gray ramparts overgrown with vegetation loomed above them.

“These walls are amazing.” William whistled softly. “And I’ve only seen stone like that once or twice before—in Europe.”

Just inside the city entrance, at the end of an ancient boulevard, stood an imposing sand-colored stone pyramid three stories high and at least four hundred feet in length at its base. The three levels of the edifice were terraced to a smaller flat space at the very top, upon which stood a vast stone carving. The remains of the weathered carving resembled an enormous feline, perhaps a jaguar or cougar. Elaborate carvings also graced the building’s multiple entrances but were far too eroded to reveal the sculptor’s intention.

“There must be a score of these buildings,” William exclaimed.

Nate stared, overwhelmed. “Our plan to trade for the orchids and then get out of here is going to need some serious rethinking.”

William said, “Never was much of a plan in the first place. The most important thing now is where they’re taking us.”

“Hopefully for a meal. Now that it seems we’re safe for at least another day, I could eat a full-grown tapir.” He signed at one of the guards, using what he hoped was the universal sign for food. He was prodded forward for his effort.

“Good try, Bidwell.”

“Look at that building.”

The structure immediately in front of them had fared little better than its carvings. Almost a third of the entire left side was ruined, the ground strewn with blocks of rubble and broken lintels from where the walls had caved in.

The guards continued to lead them through the city. They passed many other stone structures, most of which were in the same disrepair, although portions of some appeared to be in use, and showed signs of activity.

“Things seem to have taken a definite turn for the worse here,” William observed quietly.

“That’s an understatement, Gunn.”

“I wonder what this is,” William said of a large round stone lying flat on the ground with regular notches and raised edges.

“Probably used to tell the seasons,” Nate guessed, “and that round tower over there was some sort of observatory.”

William frowned at the American but didn’t say anything.

“What?” Nate said, pretending to be offended.

“You’re making that up,” William said derisively, “you have no idea what that is.”

But whether tombs or temples, most appeared abandoned. Several buildings constructed of regular masonry blocks were still intact and closely guarded. These caught the American’s attention. He thought, A look inside one of those could prove very interesting.

In between the scattered stone constructions were brick houses of the upper caste, and the adobe and thatch cottages of the laboring class. Some of these appeared to be occupied; the inhabitants stared at the strange white men being marched past. The warrior-guards ignored the commoners, but traded pleasantries with other warriors along the way, occasionally stopping to chat.

Overall, the city seemed vaguely underpopulated, leaving the definite impression that a simple rural settlement had been thrown together among the stately ruins of an earlier, more noble city.

“I’ll admit I’m out of my depth in this Sacred Land,” Nate breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Earlier today, before you came to your senses, I saw a lot more on the way in. Something strange happened here.”

“Are you talking about how few people there seem to be?” William asked.

“More than that,” Nate continued in a whisper. “On the way here, we passed crops you wouldn’t expect to see. Like a plantation of cacao trees and a field of ripened maize. Just before the forest ended, there were rows of very straight trees. They were dripping a white fluid from cuts made in the bark. And where the soil was being tilled,” Nate said, awe in his voice, “it was black and deep. It had to be man-made.

“There were also channeling systems providing irrigation for the fields, along with canals, roads, and more of those strange mounds. I saw old kilns, almost overgrown, which must have been used for making bricks. And think about it: the volcanic tuff and limestone used for the city walls and structures had to be transported all the way from the foothills. I’m telling you, with this sparse population, there’s no way they could do all this.”

“How the hell did you see so much? I was barely conscious.”

“For God’s sake, Admiral, pipe down before we wind up like those two prisoners.” The American added, “I may have forgotten to mention that I took something that lessens the effects of most of these potions.”

“Then why didn’t you give me some?” William was red in the face. “I still haven’t stopped puking from that stuff they blew up my nose.”

“Because now, Gunn, I know the way out of here and you don’t. So, when you get those orchids, remember who’s in charge.”

“You son of a bitch, I should have come on my own when I had the chance.”

“Perhaps, but then you would never have made it this far, would you? And you most certainly would never get to see dear old England again.”

William detested the thought of having to depend on the American for their escape but didn’t see any way around it.

“C’mon, Gunn.” Nate grinned. “Lighten up. We’re here as planned—the promised land. Look.” Nate nodded and drew his attention to several immense buildings, which could have been temples, situated around a small lake. An outlet stream controlled by a weir ran to a canal. There were many such canals, lined with stone and spanned by small bridges, passing through the city and into the jungle.

“I hope you’re taking all this in, Bidwell. You’re supposed to be our guide.”

“Not to worry, Gunn, I have it all under control.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

Nate’s instincts as a tracker hadn’t abandoned him. He’d easily kept a mental record of landmarks along the way, including waterways, the roads they had used, and the distance they had come.

He stared at the flowing water. He reasoned that the canals had to be fed from a river someplace upstream and must empty into an even bigger river somewhere downstream.

The guards led them over a bridge that spanned one of the larger waterways. Steps hewn into the stone embankment on one side led down to a landing on the canal where several dugouts of various sizes were moored. On the other side of the bridge, a short way down a wide path, was a long brick structure resembling a warehouse.

Flanked by several warriors, a woman emerged from the building. She carried a silver platter on which rested silver flasks and an array of golden objects. She gazed at the captives and caught William’s eye. She stopped abruptly, and the warriors around her immediately came to a halt, their stoic countenances betraying no emotion. For the briefest of moments, she stared at the yellow-haired stranger before continuing on.

“Where do you think all this came from, Yank?” William wondered. “And where did the people go?”

“Our concern at the moment is that there are enough warriors to make our escape interesting,” he remarked. “So, let’s just keep our eyes open and figure out a new plan for how to get what we came for, and how to get out.”

The guards led them through a gateway in a thick hedge to a long sunken courtyard. In the vivid light of torches, several long tables were visible, nearly covering the open area. Two chairs ornately carved with intricate animal characters were prominently positioned at the head of the first table. Tall warriors with short metal swords at their sides arrived; they were adorned with gold and jewels, and soon almost all the places at the tables were taken.

When the Brit and the American entered, many curious eyes turned to them. Nate and William were led off to one side, close to the first table, not far from the ornate chairs, but were seated on a rough-hewn wooden bench.

“Seems we’re not exactly the guests of honor,” William remarked.

The sonorous beating of drums announced the arrival of the queen. All conversation ceased. Preceded by a half dozen of her personal guard, she strode in, head held high, projecting proud authority in every measured step. Silver bangles ornamented her bronze forearms and a huge colorful headdress interwoven with rare bird feathers offset her heavy gold hoop earrings. The gold pendant hanging from her neck danced in the light of the torches—a gold Saint Christopher medal.

Preceding her, straining on a thick leash, a midnight-black panther coldly calculated its surroundings through green eyes. The queen took her place by the chair at the head of the table, the jaguar at her feet.

Then the king entered, accompanied by a companion.

“What the bloody hell?” William blurted.

Nate was speechless.

Accompanying the king of the Sacred Land was Captain Ernesto Rodrigo Marquez.

Almost as shocking as seeing the Spaniard who had tried to kill Nate was the sight of the enormous emerald hanging about the king’s neck. Far exceeding the American’s wildest expectations, the precious gemstone was larger than a man’s fist. It was set in gold and glistened a deep, bright green.

William whispered, “Your emerald, I presume?”

Nate gave William a hard glance. He had no idea how the Spaniard had arrived before them. This was indeed a dangerous moment in a dangerous game. The American smiled.

“Salud, amigo,” Nate called out.

The queen’s guards immediately drew their short swords. Speaking out of turn in the royal presence at such an event was punishable by death. The leader froze at the queen’s light touch on her arm. To the amazement of William and Nate, the queen said in Spanish, “That won’t be necessary, Ismerai.”

The king added in Spanish, “You already know each other. Good.” He said solemnly, “We feast tonight, a celebration to welcome our new friends.” He lifted his cup. The green jewel shifted on his chest, scattering sparkling rays of emerald light.

The queen held up her drink. “Your sovereigns offer salud to everyone.”

The Spaniard glared at the American and the Brit.

When the monarchs sat, everyone followed suit, the Spaniard on the king’s right. A young server placed ceramic bowls on a small table in front of William and Nate.

William asked the server in Spanish, “How is it you speak our language?”

“Men from river stay, teach,” the young man replied.

“They must stay a long time to teach you.”

“Some stay, some go.” He waved dismissively and moved on.

“I’ll bet they go,” Nate said dryly. “Right into the snake pit.”

William examined the table settings. “That’s odd. The last time I saw delftware like this was in a duke’s drawing room.”

“It’s what’s on those plates that interests me.” Nate felt like there was a hole where his stomach should be. He emptied something that appeared to be chicken onto his plate and reached for another bowl.

At the head table, they saw Marquez scowl.

“What’s he so annoyed about?” William whispered.

“Probably delighted to see us again,” Nate said.

The Spaniard lifted his cup and toasted the sovereigns so loudly that heads turned at the far end of the furthest table. “To the future friendship of our two great countries.”

“You’d think he was trying to be heard in Madrid.” William picked up a bowl of something that looked like monkey brains.

Marquez and the king drank deeply, quickly emptying their cups. The queen merely lifted hers, then put it down. They chatted and ate and paid scant attention to their new captives.

The Spaniard rose and approached William and Nate.

He greeted them in English. “I told you I would beat you here. Actually”—Marquez laughed gaily—“I never thought I’d see either one of you again. Like some animals, you heathens must have many lives.”

He shoved a tortoise egg in his mouth. “While you were struggling to get here,” he said quietly between chews, “I have been courting these people, as I said I would.” He swallowed, then drank. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he straightened and continued in English. “Once I baptize these pagans, they’ll become our slave kingdom in the jungle, for my sovereign to do with as he pleases.” His smile broadened. “It’s unfortunate you won’t be alive to see it. I’ll make sure of that.”

When the sovereigns glared in their direction, the American and the British officer laughed as if they were having the time of their lives.

Marquez walked back to the head table and, with a flourish, disrupted the conversation by offering the queen the neck fat of the howler monkey, a prized treat. She accepted the interruption with a thin smile, allowing the delicacy to be placed on a side plate. It sat on the table untouched.

William and Nate ate like men who hadn’t seen food in weeks. It had only been a day and a half, but after being drugged, William had left most of the contents of his stomach by the side of the path. They were almost finished when they overheard the Spaniard.

“You see,” he said, with a laugh, “they even eat like beasts. These are dangerous men, Your Highness, not to be trusted. They are infidels, unbelievers.”

William’s lip twitched. Nate put a hand on his arm and answered in Spanish, “Merely a sign, Your Majesties, of the appreciation we have for the excellent food you have served us.”

William chimed in, “My king’s table would be honored to have such wonderful fare. I send you King George’s greeting and his offer of eternal friendship, along with his invitation to visit our country as his guests.”

Nate said under this breath, “Well done, Gunn.” He raised his mug. “To your continued good health, Spaniard. May we meet again.”

Ignoring him, Marquez pronounced, “My Queen, I wonder that your border guards brought them here. These men could have brought the great sickness.”

The queen shared a knowing look with her husband, who nodded to Ismerai. “Have our new friends join us.”

Surprised to be seated at the queen’s side, William and Nate were even more taken aback when she offered them the piece of neck fat Marquez had presented to her earlier.