Land to the North - Chapter 14

Once Eric was out the window, I helped Huana and then Christine, and followed them. For a moment we crouched on the soft grass hidden behind a flowering bush at the base of the palace. Eric then moved to the right, along the wall, letting it and the vegetation screen him. At the corner he stopped and stooped, surveying the long open field that separated us from the steps that led up and into the jungle.

“Isn’t there another way to do this?” I asked Christine in Spanish.

She shook her head. We could either move deeper into the Inner Earth by crossing through the town, or we could try to get to the river that would probably lead us out. And right now it was important for us to get out.

Eric looked at us, waiting for someone to say something. I finally told him, “It’s never going to get dark. Now is as good a time as any.” Mentally, I added, “Especially with those guards lying dead in our chambers.”

Eric shrugged and then took off, running across the open field, his long legs eating up the distance. Huana chased after him, falling to the rear as she struggled to keep up. Christine left next, soon caught Huana and passed her. I brought up the rear, but stayed close to the slower woman, ready to help her if she needed it. The problem wasn’t that she was out of shape. She just had no speed. Her arms and legs were pumping as she tried to run faster, but she just couldn’t move any quicker.

Ahead of us, Eric had reached the stairs cut into the side of a cliff. He stopped and crouched there, watching us, and searching the area behind us, looking for a pursuit. As we approached, he started up them, taking them two and three at a time. At the first landing, he stopped, bent over, breathing hard. We finally caught him there and took a break.

Neither Christine nor Huana seemed to be terribly worn by the run, but Eric looked as if he was on the verge of collapse. Sweat poured from his face and soaked his clothes as quickly as if he had been running through the rain. The breath rasped in his throat as his chest heaved. He looked at me, as if wanting me to make some rude comment, but I didn’t have it in me. The run had sapped most of my strength too.

Then, behind us, came the shrill blast of a trumpet. It sounded like a horn warning of a coming storm or of an escape of prisoners. I glanced back and saw that the plaza was filling with running people. Guards and soldiers swarmed from the pyramid, almost as if it had been more than a religious structure and prison that we knew it to be.

“We’d better get going,” said Eric more calmly than I would have. He didn’t wait for a response. He began a rapid climb, leaning forward so that he could use his hands as well as his feet. He ran up the stairs looking like a pale primate from our distant past.

The bedlam below increased. More trumpets blared and I could hear shouting behind us. I looked back and saw a dozen soldiers racing across the long grassy field, heading toward the steps. When I looked a third time, there were fifty people behind us and a few had reached the steps.

Eric stopped again, let us catch up and then said, in a voice tinged with exhaustion, “I don’t think we’re going to make it.” With that he spun and started to climb again.

We kept going up. I felt the pain build in my lungs and radiate outward like a fire that was consuming me. It hurt to breathe, the air suddenly hot and quite humid. My throat was filled with razor blades and my legs ached. With each step, I thought I was going to collapse and found the strength for one more. Upward, I ran, like a man caught in molasses. It was slow motion and when I glanced at the top, it seemed to be farther from me than it was when I started.

And still we kept going. At a landing, I had to rest. I went to one knee and stared at the ground by my foot. Suddenly I was hot, the sweat drenching me. There was a shout below me. A shout of triumph as the soldiers chasing us saw me resting there. It inspired me. I was up again, running forward, finding a reserve of strength that I didn’t know I had.

It was just enough. I staggered the last few steps, but found myself at the top. Eric was sprawled on his back, his eyes closed as his chest heaved. He sucked in the air greedily.

Christine was on her hands and knees, trying to rise. Huana had found a large boulder and was trying to force it to the edge of the cliff. I saw what she had in mind and tried to help her, but my muscles had turned to jelly. Still I pushed on the rock. Christine joined us and all three of us were able to roll it to the cliff.

We shoved it over. I saw it hit the steps once in an explosion of dust an then it bounced. The men chasing us scattered, trying to avoid the stone. Two of them lost their balance and fell, the screams of terror rising to us.

“That might slow them,” I said, “but we’ve got to get going. The river?”

Christine point at the trail and I shook my head. “Too easy. They’ll catch us.”

Huana reached around a lacy fern, and pointed. “Through here,” she said.

Eric, with a Herculean effort, got to his feet. He stumbled forward, and stepped around the bush. He caught his foot on something, an exposed root or stone, and fell heavily. Again he got up an pushed on. Huana ran passed him, showing us the path.

I let Christine go first. I held back, looking for signs that we had decided to go cross country, but the fern hid our trail well. I hoped the soldiers would believe that we had followed the path and chase down it without stopping to look for signs that we hadn’t.

Huana had found some kind of game trail. The vegetation wasn’t as thick as it was through the middle of the jungle, so we made good time. Vines and branches grabbed at us, snagging our clothes and scratched our exposed skin. In minutes my shirt was shredded and the backs of both women were slick with sweat and blood from a hundred tiny cuts.

We halted for a minute to catch our breath and listened for the sound of a pursuit. I stripped my shirt and draped it over Christine’s shoulders. She smiled as I did it. I think she was surprised by the kindness.

Eric nodded his approval and did the same for Huana. When it was obvious that no one was after us, at least on this trail, we started off again, moving slowly. Now it wasn’t so important to hurry. It was important to be quiet. We didn’t want to give the enemy a clue as to our whereabouts.

As before, the deeper we moved into the jungle, the darker it became. Even with the sun overhead and rarely any real clouds, the vegetation was so thick that sunlight couldn’t easily penetrate. We were moving through a densely packed area of dim green light, steaming humidity, and oppressive air. We closed the gaps among us so that we wouldn’t lose sight of one another and even with Christine only three or four feet in front of me, she was just a vague shape in the verdant twilight of the jungle.

After thirty minutes, Eric halted us. I crept forward to see what the problem was. He pointed across the game trail and up into a tree where there seemed to be black pods three or four feet long hanging under the branches. I shrugged, telling him that I didn’t see a problem.

“Vampire bats,” he said, nodding at Huana who’d given him the information.

I felt a chill on my spine. These were not the small, nearly harmless things of the South American jungle. These were the huge creatures of which horror stories were made. These were the things that had swooped in on the plaza as the children were sacrificed. These were why there were so many blood rituals here and I knew that waving a cross at them would do no good.

“What do we do now?” I whispered, afraid that I would wake them if I spoke too loud.

“Back track quietly and veer to the right, away from them,” he said.

I nodded, doing as he told me. As I reached Christine, there was a high pitched scream and the flapping of leathery wings. The granddaddy of the vampires spread his wings and let go of his upside down perch. As he swooped down, turning and twisting to avoid the trees and branches and bushes, I saw that his wing span was ten or twelve feet. He landed on the game trail, his eyes roaming over it as each of us froze, hoping to avoid that blood thirsty stare.

That creature was six feet tall, if it was an inch. The face was hideous, covered with brown hair. It had a pointed snout and pointed ears so that it had a wolf-like appearance, but there was something in the red, glowing eyes that suggested insanity. I couldn’t pull my eyes from those of the creature and remembered Bram Stoker’s tale of Dracula. He had the power to hypnotize with his steady gaze.

Behind me I heard Christine whimper. A quiet, heartbreaking noise. The beast heard it too because it turned to look in her direction. Slowly, I raised the barrel of my pistol, feeling that the bullet would do no good. If there was a supernatural explanation for vampires, I was staring it in the hideous face.

The last thing I wanted to do was shoot. The sound of the shot would awaken the whole colony. Hundreds of them, probably lusting after fresh blood, would be in the air. We wouldn’t be able to fight them all.

And if that didn’t stir them, it might alert the soldiers who were chasing us. My gun would be good only to kill ourselves because to pull the trigger would be to sign our death warrants.

The creature now stood only a few feet from me, its black wings still wrapped around it like the cape demanded by the legend. It was still for a moment, its head cocked to one side as if listening for something.

Then there was a flash of metal and the vampire’s head flipped into the air. Blood spurted in a great fountain of red as the trunk of the beast collapsed to the jungle floor. Behind it, Eric stood, holding the hilt of a short sword in both hands like it was a baseball bat.

His solution had been brilliant. He had killed the creature without giving it time for a warning cry. The others slumbered on, unaware that one of their number had been killed. I stepped from hiding to look at the body. There were so many human qualities about it that it was frightening. If one of these had gotten loose on the surface, the vampire legend would be confirmed to the horror of the whole world.

“Let’s get out of here,” he hissed as he stepped over the fallen creature. Huana didn’t need further encouragement. She started back down the trail at a trot, glancing repeatedly over her shoulder.

After we had gotten far enough away from the vampire bats that I felt we were safe, I stopped. The last thing we wanted was to return all the way to the edge of the cliff. We had to turn to the right and through the thickest part of the jungle, at least for a while.

Eric understood that but Christine and Huana wanted no part of it. They seemed to be more frightened of the terrors in there than the soldiers searching for us, or the vile creatures we had discovered already.

There was a whispered argument with Huana. She kept telling us that there were things in the direction we wanted to go that were more horrible than any we had ever seen. I liked the sound of that because it meant that not many people would have traveled that part of the jungle. We would be relatively safe in it. Safe from the soldiers who were chasing us and I didn’t know what could be more horrible than the colony of large, human-like vampire bats we had found. Without having to worry about the soldiers, I figured that a big fire would hold the bats at bay.

Finally, on the threat that we were going to leave her behind for the vampires and the soldiers, Huana agreed to accompany us. She was badly frightened, that was obvious, but she couldn’t tell us what scared her the most. It was some vague monster that lived in that portion of the jungle and ate babies. Having seen the murder of children in the rituals held on the ramp of the pyramid, I couldn’t understand her terror at some unknown creature that feasted on infants.

With Eric in the lead again, we worked our way through the jungle. It was slow going because we didn’t have machetes to chop our way through the thick clinging vegetation. Eric used his sword sparingly because he didn’t want to dull the blade. We found ourselves crawling under the obstructions, sliding around them, or climbing over them. Trees that had fallen, huge bushes covered with razor-sharp thorns and vines that grabbed and held us were all in the way. Invariably, one of us would become ensnared and would have to be cut free before we could continue. It made our pace maddingly slow.

I thought of the soldiers who were chasing us, hoping that they were still on that jungle trail, or if they had circled back, were now following the game trail we had abandoned. If they had found our tracks through the jungle, they would surely catch us.

But they didn’t. We kept moving, resting periodically, sipping at the wine that Christine carried in the decanter we had stolen, or eating some of the fruit that I had stashed in the makeshift ruck sack. Huana showed us how to steal the water from the broadleaves of some of the plants by rolling one into a slender tube and then sucking on it like it was a straw.

For hours we kept at it, wanting to lie down and sleep, but afraid of the soldiers who were giving chase. We pushed on, the rest periods becoming more frequent and longer. At last Eric sat at the base of a huge tree and said, “We need to sleep.”

Although I agreed with that, I said, “Then we post a guard and rotate that guard every hour or two.”

Eric nodded tiredly. “Granted. Every time we have failed to post guards, something has happened to us.”

I wasn’t sleepy. Tired, yes, but not sleepy. “I’ll take the first watch. If I hear anything, Ill wake each of you and we’ll decide what to do then.” I repeated the instructions in Spanish for Christine and Huana.

I moved off a short distance, finding a good spot to stand guard. It gave me a view of the surrounding territory including the way we had come. By sliding either right or left, I could hide completely.

The night passed quietly. Or rather, I should say that the rest period passed quietly. I heard cries of animals in the distance, and once there was a crashing through the jungle like a herd of elephants was stampeding, but I didn’t see them and they didn’t come very close. Christine took over the guard duties from me and then Huana replaced her. Eric had the last round and when he woke me, he said that everything had been quiet. It seemed that we had shaken the soldiers. It seemed that our immediate troubles were over. It seemed that way.

Land to the North - Chapter Thirteen

The old rulers were lifted to the shoulders of the bearers and carried from the arena to the wild cheering of the crowd. A dozen of the black garbed soldiers, each holding a great spear of pure gold, broke from the formation and surrounded us almost like an honor guard. An officer, wearing the black uniform, a scarlet cape and a gold trimmed helmet, approached and asked that we follow. As we departed, the cheering increased, as if the crowd was on our side and not that of the high priest.

We were led through a wide gate, set in a stone wall, and out onto a plateau that overlooked the city. We turned toward a low, open building that had smoke rising from the roof. The grass was neatly trimmed and led to four steps that ran along the front. Every ten or fifteen feet there were doors. Between the doors were wide windows.

We were escorted to the top of the steps and as we reached them, two men and two women came out. The guard fanned to our right and left, as if protecting the structure from assault.

The newcomers didn’t speak. They led us into the interior that smelled of sulfur. We passed though a couple of doors and stood facing a huge pool of steaming water. There was no roof over us that the whole place was open to the sun. Marble steps led into the water and there were benches of marble scattered around the edge of the hot springs.

Without a word, one of the women began to pull at my clothes, trying to remove them. I pushed her hands away and turned to look over my shoulder.

Christine and Nuana were naked. Their bodies were covered with soot and ash from the fire. Their hair was sweat damp and hung straight. Neither seemed to think a thing about the situation. Both moved to the steps that led down into the water and descended until they were neck deep.

“When in Rome,” said Eric, helping his female assistant remove his clothes.

I didn’t like this at all. The two men had moved to the rear and were watching the women. Eric, now nude, entered the water swimming along. He stopped and stood up. “Come on, Dave. Water’s wonderful.”

I shrugged and glanced at the woman who stood near me waiting patently. I unbuttoned my shirt and dropped it to the marble floor. Slowly, I took off the rest of my clothes, and feeling somewhat embarrassed, had to be careful that I didn’t run to the water to cover myself. Once I was in to the waist, I found that I was no longer embarrassed and that no one was really paying any attention to me anyway.

For a few moments, I stood there quietly, the water up to my chest. I felt good. Better than I had since I had awaked in the boat and found that we were drifting in a fog bank. I turned and saw that Christine was studying me. She came closer and touched the scars on my back, as if fascinated by them.

“What happened to you?” she asked in Spanish.

I turned and stared into her eyes, noticing that there were icy blue. I wanted to reach out and brush a stray strand of blond hair from her face, but didn’t. Instead I just said, “It was the war.”

“War?” she said.

I knew why she was confused. In warfare conducted using sword and arrows, the wounds leave scars that look different than the ones on me. Shrapnel from an artillery round tends to shred the human body.

When she reached out again, to touch my chest, I grabbed her hand, holding it away from me. She moved closer to me, looking up into my eyes.

Her unwavering gaze made me uncomfortable. I looked away and saw that Eric and Huana were locked in an embrace, pressing against one another tightly. Christine slid to the side and then was behind me, her hands massaging my shoulders. As her fingers worked, I felt the tension drain from me and I turned.

Ignoring everything around me, the men and women who stood outside the water, watching, the open roof that allowed the sun to stream in, the guards who we could see through the open windows, I pulled Christine close. Our lips met, almost tentatively, as if we were afraid of hurting each other. The kiss held and grew in intensity. All I could think of was her wet body pressed against mine as her tongue probed, searching for mine.

There was a strange quiet around us, as if the whole world had disappeared. Only a low bubbling of the water as it seeped into the pool disturbed the scene.

I lifted Christine and carried her to the side of the pool. I laid her on the sun warm marble and then crawled out of the water. We lay together for a time, exploring each other, learning about each other.

Later, I would wonder about the desertion of my inhibitions and realize that the situation had destroyed them. The high priest had told us that we would be dead in two days, at the most. While I believed that I could take two adversaries at once, I doubted that I could take three and even if I could, Christine and Huana would be dead long before I could dispatch the soldiers and get to them.

But now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Christine was there, waiting and wanting. I moved closer to her, felt her shift and slid in anticipation and then moan with pleasure.

Eric and Huana never made it from the water. They stayed in there, holding each other.

Christine and I finally joined them again. She and I took turns washing each other, removing the last evidences of the fire and the sweat. We stayed longer than necessary, enjoying the imagined privacy of the bath. We knew, when we left, that the guards would surround us again, taking us to the palace.

Finally, we climbed from the water and rather than toweling dry, we let the sun wash over us, evaporating the water slowly. Then, sleepy from the sun, we searched for our clothes.

Christine’s short, white skirt had been replaced by a clean, fresh one. Huana’s clothes were new too. I found that my clothes had been washed but not pressed. They were wrinkled badly, but they were clean and I relished them as much as any I have ever put on.

Fully clothed, we left the bath hand in hand. As we passed through the doors, the guards formed around us again with their officer leading. He turned toward the palace, crossing the grass of the lawn to reach a marble staircase built into the side of the hill.

When we reached the palace, we were escorted to our room on the second floor. As we entered, the door was closed and I heard a bar slide into place so that we couldn’t get out again.

Eric dropped Huana’s hand and stepped to the table where there was another load of fresh fruit and cold wine. As he poured himself a glass, I asked, “You going to trust that again?”

He shrugged. “What’s the point now? We know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Would they want to deprive us of our last day on Earth? Or maybe I should say, ‘Our last day in Earth.’”

“Who would have thought they would burn the women at the stake while trying to kill us in combat?”

Eric dropped into one of the chairs and hooked a leg over the arm. He drank deeply from the cup and set it on the table. “David, my man,” he said, “it is time to talk of ships and kings and ways to get the hell out of here.”

“Over the railing, through the garden and into the jungle,” I said, looking out into the city.

“When?”

I shot a glance at Christine. I didn’t want to leave her behind because that meant she would die. Probably burned at the stake without anyone to free her. Besides, we would need a guide who could help us once we were outside the city. A translator who could talk to the natives around the city and who could help us avoid the worst of the jungle.

Eric nodded and said, “I know what you’re thinking and I like it. We can’t just leave the women behind, not after all that has happened. They’ll be killed.”

“But do we say anything to them?”

Eric grabbed an apple and crunched into it. “If we just walk out onto the balcony and drop over the edge, they’re going to see us go.”

Suddenly I wasn’t worried about that. I knew that Christine would go with us. She would like the opportunity to improve her lot in life. But the weapons. They had taken our knives and machetes the first day, our rifles in the prison and finally our pistols as they understood the value of them. I didn’t want to face the jungle with giant snakes and aggressive spiders without our weapons. I said as much to Eric.

“Then ask,” he said.

I turned and said, in Spanish, “Where are our weapons?”

Christina shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

“Huana?”

“They have been given to the Emperor. I do not know where he might have taken them.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Eric. “We can’t waste time searching for them. Once we’re outside, we’ve got to make tracks.” Then grinning, added, “Or make no tracks. Just get away from here as rapidly as we can.”

I sat down at the table and said, “Before we do that, we’d better have some kind of plan. A goal.”

“I would think that it would be obvious. We get into the jungle and head for the river. In the worst case, we might have to just toss logs into it and drift with the current. At best, we’ll find some kind of boat and can use it to get out.”

“Not much of a plan,” I said. But then, the whole expedition hadn’t been all that well thought out. And it was a plan, no matter how loosely structured it might be.

“There is one thing,” said Eric. “The whole point was to find out what happened to my family.”

That stopped me for a moment and then I said, “They’re not here.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, if they were, we would have learned about it by now. They would have stopped the fight somehow. They would have been there to welcome us or to watch the ceremonies. They would be here now, trying to help us escape.”

Eric was silent for a while. He was staring out, looking at the jungle beyond the city limits. Finally he said, “They’re somewhere in here. In the realm. Maybe not here, but somewhere.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking. If they were here, they probably had gone through the same ordeal that we were facing and they didn’t survive. The search for them in this city was over, but I didn’t mention that. Instead, I said, “Okay. We escape. When do we go?”

“Well,” he said, grinning, “we won’t wait for dark. And I don’t think we should try it now. I think that we should eat a big meal, arrange a way to carry some of this food and the decanter, and see if an opportunity presents itself. If not, we’ll wait until we see little activity in the gardens below us and then we’ll get out.”

“Makes sense,” I said. Except, once again, we weren’t taking control of the situation. We were letting the situation dictate our actions. That was how we had gotten ourselves into the mess in the first place.

“Tell the women,” said Eric. “They’ve the right to know and we’ll have to count on their help.”

Although I didn’t say anything I knew that he was right. Without their assistance we wouldn’t be able to get very far. So, in Spanish, I outlined what we wanted to do. Christine greeted the idea with enthusiasm, but Huana was reluctant to go along. Her status in the society hadn’t been quite as bad as ours. She had been selected with dozens of other youths as a sacrifice to the gods. She was to die gloriously and speed her way into the afterlife. Except that burning at the stake would prevent that. She couldn’t understand her sudden fall from grace, unless it had been her association with us and the belief that she was no longer pure enough for sacrifice. Not that any of that mattered now.

Christine said something to her in their language. I could understand none of it. It wasn’t a romance language or based on Latin. It was as different as anything I’d ever heard. As they spoke, I thought that if I concentrated hard enough I would be able to pick up something. It was tantalizingly familiar, or almost familiar, but I didn’t understand a word.

The argument between them turned momentarily heated and then Huana raised her hands, almost in surrender. Her voice was quiet, subdued and finally she just nodded her head.

Christine turned to me and said, “We are now all set. She has agreed to help.”

I got out of my chair and walked to the sleeping area. Unlike the cots in the cell, the beds were piled with cotton and silk material for comfort. I spent an hour making a backpack and then stuffing it with food.

Then there seemed to be nothing to do. Eric walked to the bed and laid down. Huana followed and laid beside him. Neither of them spoke or moved, the day was still hot and humid, but all the days were hot and humid and never-ending. I began to wonder about that because we had yet to see a rain storm and we were in a tropical environment. Of course, I realized it was a closed system so that a little rain would be all that was needed.

The sound of music drifted to us and I walked out on the balcony. In the distance, in the plaza, I saw several dozen musicians lining the ramp that lead up into the pyramid. Some held brass horns, or maybe they were gold, with long bells that wrapped around the arms to that the end hovered over the head like some kind of halo. There were flutes and drums. And there were people dancing. Women throwing flower pedals and men leaping high in the air in some kind of celebration.

Christine joined me and I pointed to the celebration. She nodded and said, “Day two of the festival of the sun. Started about the time that you were brought in. It winds down slowly and then explodes into the festival of the moon.”

When she said it to me it made good sense. After all, it was mid-afternoon for all intents and purposes and there were a dozen ancient societies that worshiped the moon.

I hadn’t thought about it then, but these people have never seen the moon. They knew nothing about it, except for the knowledge that someone had to have brought to them. They had an eternal sun, but they had no moon and that told me that there was some contact with the outside world. It was knowledge that I thought important, though I didn’t know how I would ever use it.

I watched the dancing for a while. Soon the adults fell away, leaving the center of the plaza open. From all four corners streamed the youngsters, all dressed in the white translucent material. They walked slowly, their heads held high proudly. The four groups met in the middle and began to circle one another until there were four concentric circles dancing around each other.

The high priest, again dressed in his robe of bright colors came down the ramp, followed by several women, probably his high priestesses. As they reached the foot of the ramp, the children stopped dancing and fell to their knees facing the ramp. The priestesses raised their arms skyward and their dark robes opened, revealing their naked bodies. Each clutched a golden dagger in her hand.

“What’s going on?” I asked, not really wanting to know and fearing the worst.

“Sacrifice of the virgins to the god of the sun,” she said in a calm voice, making it sound as if the murder of children was the most natural thing.

I glanced at her, surprised at her indifference and then realized that this was her culture and her society and she had learned about life through them. She was used to seeing people, children, killed for the greater glory of their gods. To me it was repugnant, but then, I considered myself to be enlightened.

And then I thought about the war I had been in and realized that our ritualistic killing was more proficient than theirs and normally only involved the young males. Sometimes they volunteered for the privilege and sometimes others selected them. It was all a great lottery and those of us with some luck survived long enough and then the elders decided that the war would end. Our system could kill a million a day and theirs only a couple of dozen, maybe once a year.

In the plaza, the children had risen and were marching up the ramp until there were two parallel lines of them from the foot of the ramp up to the very apex of the pyramid, each of them facing toward the plaza, their backs to the top of the structure.

The music died then and the musicians moved away from the lines of children. As they did, people began flowing from the streets carrying all sorts of manufactured goods. Bolts of cloth, golden and wooden idols, tools, metal pots, and baskets of food. Fruits gathered from the abundance of the trees, baskets of fish and meat, and roots pulled from the ground.

All was carried to the middle of the plaza and tossed down on wooden platforms until there were heaps of it. As the piles grew higher, logs were laid on top. High priestesses carrying torches descended from the apex of the pyramid, passing between the lines of children. When they reached the ground, they tossed their torches into the offerings and stepped back. Black smoke began to curl upward from half a hundred torches as the offerings caught fire. It was such a waste.

As the smoke began to billow, drifting to the left, the high priest stepped behind the first of the children at the bottom of the ramp. He clasped her around the chest and then cut her throat. As the blood splashed, there was a ragged cheer from the people assembled. Unceremoniously, he dumped her body to the ground and then reached down soaking his hand in her blood which he wiped over his face and the chest of his bright, white robe.

I was sickened by the spectacle. I felt my head spin but when I glanced at Christine, she was watching the grisly show with complete fascination.

When I looked back into the plaza, the whole religious order was on the ramp, killing the children just as the high priest had done. Their throats were cut to the riotous cheering of the assembled multitude. As each body was dropped, the people chanted and kept at it until fifty of the children were dead, their blood soaked bodies littering the ramp from the stone base to the marble top.

I thought there was nothing more horrifying that they could do, but they had one more gruesome trick. When they reached the top, four men wearing loincloths, appeared. Two of the men knelt and two stood behind them. One of the high priestesses shed her robe so that she was completely naked. She turned, facing the plaza and as she did, the kneeling men seized her ankles, holding them so that her legs were slightly spread. The two standing behind her grabbed her arms, holding them out straight. They seemed to be holding her so tightly that she couldn’t move.

The high priest danced in front of her and then his knife flashed. When he turned, there was a gaping hole in her chest. He held her still beating heart over his head and then crowd roared. Her body was dumped from the ramp. It hit the side of the pyramid and slid to the stone floor of the plaza leaving a bright red streak on the rock facing of the pyramid.

I could take no more of the show. I had seen horrible things in the war. I had seen men blown apart by artillery and shot to pieces by machine guns. I had seen things that turned my stomach and made brave men weep, but I had never seen anything like this. The wanton killing of so many children. So many beautiful and healthy children. The destruction of so much that could be used to benefit everyone in that society. And then the ritualistic sacrifice of the woman. It was all so outrageous that I could barely contain myself. I wanted to scream at Christine. I wanted to demand answers from her, but knew that she was no more responsible for the murders of the children than I. Neither of us could have stopped it. Not when so many in the population seemed to approve of it.

I turned and entered my chamber, trying to put perspective on it. I wanted to look on it as a scientist would. See it as part of a culture and not the disgusting and sickening display that I had seen.

On the surface, I knew there were many societies that condoned and practiced human sacrifice. The Thuggee in India, the Aztecs in Mexico and the Incas in South America. But must of those had been abolished as the “civilized” world have rolled over them.

I stepped to the table and poured myself a healthy slug of the wine and downed it in one long pull. It was a hell of a way to keep the population down. If they had sacrifices of this magnitude often then would soon run short of subjects.

Christine tried to explain it to me, saying that a failure to provide a sufficient sacrifice would be to anger the gods. They had been angered once before and the price had been the near destruction of the civilization. That, like some of the other things she said struck a chord in my mind, but I failed to put it all together. The spectacle in the plaza had overwhelmed my sense of reason. All I wanted was to escape, regardless of the consequences.

As I thought of escape, I heard the bar across the door being shifted. I looked at Eric and he was suddenly sitting upright, a finger to his lips. Both Christine and Nuana scmapered across the floor, standing in the open where they could easily be seen by anyone entering.

Without a word, I jumped to the wall. I had my back to it, my head and eyes turned toward the door as it opened.

For a moment, no one entered. Then the officer of the guard appeared holding Eric’s pistol in his hand. Two men followed him. All stopped, facing the women. The officer said something to them that I couldn’t understand.

As they spoke, Eric and I struck. I clubbed the man in front of me with my fist. I hit him in the back of the neck as hard as I could. I heard the bones snap as they shattered and he collapsed, dropping his sword with a clatter. I stooped to pick it up. As my hand touched the hilt, I froze. The officer stood over me, grinning widely, the barrel of Eric’s pistol pointed at my face.

Everything was suspended in time. I heard the grunt of the other soldier as Eric kicked him to the floor. I heard Christine scream and the officer laugh. He jerked his hand, as if wanting to throw the bullet at me, but nothing happened. He was trying to will the weapon to fire. He didn’t know how to pull the trigger.

I exploded into action. I grabbed the hilt of the sword and came up swinging. The officer had the sense to duck, but he tried to shoot me again, unable to fire the strange weapon. As he shook the pistol, I thrust, the blade of the short sword cutting through the cotton padding of his black armor. There was a stench of bowel and a spurt of blood as he died.

Eric ran across the floor and pushed the door shut. He turned and looked at me. I had plucked his Mauser from the floor and discovered that the safety was on. I grinned, made sure a round was chambered and waited.

“Seems like the best opportunity we’ll get.”

I nodded my agreement, handed a sword to Cristine and a dagger to Huana. I shouldered the makeshift backpack and joined Eric at the door. He didn’t ask for his pistol back and I didn’t offer it to him.

He glanced at us and then peeked through a crack in the door. When he saw that the hallway was empty, he opened the door and stepped out. We all followed him, closing the door behind us in the hope of buying a few more minutes for our head start.

We rushed down the stairs, but instead of fleeing through the main door, we turned toward the rear of the palace. Eric stopped at a large window that overlooked the garden. Maybe he was remembering our last escape attempt or maybe he was waiting for the right moment to leap.

As we climbed to the sill, crouching there, all I could remember was the trap we had fled into the last time. I hoped this wasn’t going to be repeat of that because I doubted they would take us alive again after all that had happened.

Land to the North - Chapter 12

As had happened so often in this new land, I came awake slowly, not sure of where I was or what was happening around me. My head ached and when I opened my eyes, I found that I was lying in the grass outside. I could hear people talking around me. I sat up, a hand shading my eyes. In front of me was a rank of black clad warriors and behind them was the beginnings of a stadium.


I climbed to me feet, wavered as a curtain of black descended and then stood erect. I saw Eric lying on the grass, a hand to his head. His face was pale, as if he was about to be sick. He groaned and sat up.

“What’s going on?” he moaned.

I touched a hip but the .45 was gone.

There was a burst of cheering as Eric got up. He stood there for a moment and then asked again, the anger creeping into his voice, “What in the hell is going on?”

A sword, thrown by someone to our right stuck in the ground near me feet. A second one joined the first. Neither of us moved, but the crowd went wild.

In Spanish, the high priest, the man who had stood on the ramp and killed the children and who had ordered the attack on us, said, “This is trial by ordeal. Two of our best warriors will be pitted against you. If you win the battle, you will live for another day. If you lose, you will die and your bones will rot in the forest. There is no appeal.”

I reached out and pulled the sword from the ground. I hefted it, swung it right and left and then asked, “Where is my personal weapon?”

“Your thunderstick has been taken as a gift for the emperor. It is now his. You will use the weapon given to you.”

“And if we don’t fight?” asked Eric.

“Then you will die.” He said simply, “And they will die most horribly. They die as infidels and will be deprived of their afterlife.”

I turned and saw that both Christine and Huana were bound to poles. Ropes were drawn tightly around their bodies, holding them upright. Around their feet were stacks of kindling and piles of wood.

“When the battle begins,” said the high priest, “the fire begins. Win quickly and you may save your woman. Lose and they die in the fire. Fight slowly and they die slowly. It is all up to you to finish.”

I glanced at Eric. He didn’t look too good. His hair hung in his face and he was sweating heavily. I didn’t think it was the tropical heat that was bothering him. He was sick with some kind of fever. That was an additional handicap.

To the high priest, I said, “If I dispatch my adversary, am I allowed to help my friend?”

“You my do as you choose, remembering that the women are in mortal peril.”

“Then let’s begin,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

The high priest raised his hands and clapped them once, twice, three times. To the sound of blaring trumpets, a caravan entered through the gate. First, there were naked women scattering flower pedals, their hair adorned with brightly colored feathers. They were followed by naked men, carrying a wheelless carriage on long poles set up on their shoulders. Inside each was a human figure and as the procession approached, I saw mummified bodies inside. I learned later that these were the mortal remains of past rulers, brought out for ceremonies. When the rulers were set down where they could watch the activities, four old women, dressed in pure white danced out and began waving palm leaves as if trying to cool the dead. I suppose it was to keep the flies away.

With the rulers ready and in position to watch, the living emperor descended the marble steps and entered the royal box. He sat on a carved, wooden throne and held a hand high. When he dropped it, four men charged out. Two of them held flaming torches which they tossed into the kindling and wood piled around Christine and Huana. As the flames started to build, the two other men, stripped to the waist attacked Eric and me. I held my sword high, point up, watching the dancing feet of my enemy. He was a big man, well muscled. There was almost no hair on his body. That on his head gleamed in the sun. It was long, black, and tied back in a ponytail. He grinned at me with white, nearly perfect teeth.

He attached immediately, moving in and chopping at my head. He swung his sword with strength, trying to kill me quickly. I parried the blow and then swung my sword. He leaped left and countered. Our blades hit with a ringing of metal against medal. He twisted his hand, trying to flip my weapon from me, but I was prepared for that. I snapped my hand around and drew first blood as I slashed his side. The wound, though superficial, draw a shout from the crowd.

Then, behind me, I became aware of the crackling of the fires. I knew that the wood was beginning to burn and the flames would be spreading quickly. There was no sound from either Christine or from Huana.

My adversary attacked again, swinging his sword like he was clearing vines from a jungle trail. He kicked out with a foot and danced closer. I retreated, parrying. Sweat popped out on him, making his body glisten, but he didn’t seem to be tiring at all. He was as strong as when we began.

I stumbled then and a roar rose from the crowd. My man leaped at me, swinging his sword like he had gotten a fat one on the outside of the plate. I ducked under it and rolled. He chopped down, his sword cleaving the soft earth. I jabbed and caught him on the leg. Blood flowed freely and the crowd roared its pleasure.

Behind me I heard the first cry of fright. The flames had to be getting close to the women but I couldn’t afford to look. As my enemy fell back, I got to me feet and advanced on him. He hobbled, favoring his wounded leg, but I was afraid that he was making it seem worse than it really was.

To the left, I could hear Eric fighting with his man. Their blades rang with blows, each of them grunting with the effort.

Now I attacked, swinging, thrusting and circling. I danced around my man so that I could look beyond him, at the fires. Pillars of white smoke obscured the women. They were dark shapes, hidden behind the flames, and inside the smoke. One of them was whimpering but I didn’t know which.

By checking them, I lost the advantage. The man came at me, roaring his fury, trying to disorient me. I ducked under a blow, fell, and rolled. He thought that he had me then. He leaped at me and swung. Instead of rolling away as I had in the past, I rolled toward him. Caught by surprise, he hesitated. That gave me the opening I needed. I jammed my sword into his side. There was a shriek of surprise and pain, a fountain of blood and then the odor of death. The man fell, wrenching the sword from my hand.

I scrambled to my hands and knees as the man dropped. I grabbed my sword, tugging it free. Eric was holding his own and had blooded his enemy once or twice. I spun and raced toward the fires. At first the flames were to high and hot for me. I ran around the end and saw an opening. I leaped over a pile of wood, stumbled but didn’t fall. Huana was sagging against her bonds, as if she had passed out. I slashed at the rope holding her. I cut several of them but had to be careful. Her hands were tied behind her and the pole. I needed to get closer.

The smoke poured up as the fire roared. It stung my eyes and filled my lungs. I blinked rapidly, the tears streaming down my face. I sawed at the ropes around Huana’s wrists.

Christine saw me then and screamed at me, “Hurry! Please hurry!”

The ropes parted and Huana fell to her knees. I helped her to her feet and pushed her away from the post and the fire. As she tripped and began to crawl out of the smoke, I turned to Christine. I could feel the heat of the flames beginning to bake me. My eyebrows began to curl and sizzle in the heat. I could barely see with the stinging smoke burning my eyes. I coughed. It felt as if my lungs had caught fire.

Christine was beginning to babble, her voice rising in panic. I cut the ropes that held her legs to the pole. She jerked, vainly trying to pull herself free. Her bonds cut into her body, drawing blood on her arms and shoulders.

I used my sword and cut through the majority of the rope. I coughed again as the smoke filled my lungs, making me dizzy. I slipped to my knees and lost sight of the pole.

Christine was shouting now. Screaming, almost incoherently, as the heat grew and the smoke thickened.

I reached up and touched the pole. I slid my hand down it until I came to hers, bound behind her. I couldn’t see now. By touch, I could the ropes and felt the wetness of blood. I knew that I had injured her but she didn’t cry out. Without a word, she leaped from the pole, staggered through the smoke and flame and then ran for safety.

Now it was time for me to get out. On my hands and knees, I crawled over the rough surface of the logs, cutting myself badly in the process. I kept going until I could taste the clean, fresh air. Shakily, I got to my feet. I dropped the sword and scrubbed at my eyes, trying to find Eric. I hoped he had been able to dispatch his man because I was in no condition to fight anyone else. At least not right then.

As I stood there, fighting for air, trying to see, I heard a chant from the crowd. A rhythmic chant that rocked the stadium and shook the ground. I looked toward them and saw they were on their feet, shouting and clapping and stomping. On the grass, in front of the dead rulers, were the bodies of the two men sent to fight us. Eric was standing over one, looking down at the dead man, as if he didn’t believe that he had won.

I stooped to pick up my sword and tossed the weapon at the feet of the high priest. He glanced at the bloody blade and then at the dirty bodies of the women standing behind me, coughing because of the smoke. Sweat was dripping from them and there were smears of dirt and ash on them. He turned up his nose, as if he found their very presence distasteful.

“You have won,” he said.

“Damn right,” I said. “We are now free.”

He grinned evilly. “You are not free. Tomorrow you fight again. Tomorrow will be the same as today. And each day you will fight until you are killed and your bodies thrown into the flames to be destroyed along with those of the women.”

“Or until there are no more warriors to face us,” I said with a confidence that I didn’t feel.

“We are many thousand and you are but two. Without your thunder weapons, you will surely fall.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said.

“Tomorrow will show us how strong and brave you are. Tomorrow will be the true test.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. We had just defeated two of the strongest men I had ever faced. We had done it with the weapons they provided and unless they took away those weapons, I believed that we could hold out indefinitely. I hoped after a couple of days, they would give up.

But that was not to be. The high priest turned and prayed loudly, the crowd following him. When he finished, he spun and said, “Tomorrow you will each fight two warriors and if you win, the next day it will be three each. Laugh now, infidel.”

Land to the North - Chapter 11

I had expected someone to pull a fast one on us. I had thought they were leading us off to either another dungeon or to an arena for execution. Since no one had tried to take my pistol from me, I couldn’t see any reason for causing trouble now.

With Eric and the woman, I followed the officer as he began to climb the steps that lead up into the white building. There were massive pillars holding up the roof, wide doorways that seemed to contain no doors and huge, open windows without glass in them. The front of the building was covered with carvings and designs including swirls, serpents, and sun bursts.

As we reached the top step, two dozen men poured from the building. They were all dressed in black and carried black shields. They had on black boots and held obsidian spears. They formed two ranks, on either side of the door but didn’t try to keep us from entering.

When the officer led us through the great door and we stood in a marble and stone area that had to be a hundred feet in diameter. A staircase wound around the wall, leading to a second and third level. The walls were decorated with woven rugs showing a wide variety of scenes. The one that struck me was a picture of a large battle. Men such as those I had seen lining the plaza fighting with white bearded men who were dressed like Spanish conquistadors.

A man dressed in the finest white robes I had ever seen appeared on the steps. The robe was trimmed with red and yellow and his arms were wrapped in gold. He came down a few steps and stared at us.

The officer lifted his sword in salute and said something I didn’t understand as he bowed. He backed up and disappeared behind us.

The man on the stairs came down and stopped in front of us. He spoke in the strange language and when neither Eric nor I responded, he switched to Spanish. It had a strange accent, but I could understand what he was saying. He rambled for a few moments, talking about Manco Capac and the ruler of the universe that blazed in the sky above us.

When he wound down, I stared at him and asked him, in Spanish, “Why have we been brought here and treated as enemies?”

He seemed taken aback by the question. He blinked rapidly and then said, “It came to me in a vision. White men would come into our realm, as they have come before. Some would be evil men, interested in killing and enslaving. Others would be friendly but we wouldn’t know which was which.”

“That’s all fine,” I said, “but doesn’t answer my question. Why have we been brought here?”

“You are my guests,” said the man. “Regrettably, I had to test you before I allowed you to enter my home.”

I thought about the dead men scattered in the plaza and the prison and wondered about a ruler who allowed his subjects to die in the tests of stranger’s motivations.

He bowed and said, “I am Pachacuti, Ruler of all that you see. Ruler of the world.”

“I am Stone,” I said. “And my friend is Jansen. We are explorers and scientists.”

“Ah, men of learning. Good. We will have much to talk about,” said Pachacuti. “But surely you are tired after your journey.” He clapped his hands once and a tall, slender woman with blond hair appeared. She wore a very short, white skirt, sandals and nothing more.

I looked at Pachacuti and then her. She was on her knees, her head pressed to the marble floor. In Spanish, I asked him about her.

“You may keep her as my gift,” said Pachacuti. “Come. I will show you to your quarters where you may bathe and eat and then rest.”

My head was beginning to spin with the sudden turn of events. One moment we were fighting for our lives in the plaza and the very next we were being offered the finest quarters, food and companionship available.

Pachacuti spun and climbed the steps. We followed. I paused at the top and saw the black garbed guards enter the palace. They halted then and waited. I was sure that Pachacuti was always within easy reach of his guards. He seemed to be taking the big risk by keeping them almost out of our sight, but maybe he was just attempting to gain our trust.

Pachacuti lead us across the floor, to a large, dark wood door. He pushed it open and waved at the giant room. The floor was marble and on the opposite side was a massive balcony that looked out on the plaza. There was little furniture in the room. A couple of chairs, a single table covered with golden trinkets including a decanter and four large goblets, and dozens of pillows spread across the floor. At the far end, in the darkest corner, near a heavy curtain that could be drawn by ropes to the side, were two beds.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. If you desire anything, please inform Christine. If she fails to supply it, her head is forfeit.”

“Well,” said Eric, spinning slowly so that he could take in the whole of the scene around us. He stopped, facing Christine and said, “You are not of these people.”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes were downcast, staring at the floor.

Without looking up at me, she said, “I am Christine. I am here to serve.”

“Yes,” I said. “But you are not from here. You were born elsewhere.”

“I was born in Neuve Macchu Picuhu.”

“Never heard of it,” I said.

Eric moved to the table and was looking at the treasure spread across it. “If I didn’t know better, I would say the old boy is trying to bribe us with beads and bobbles just as the English tried to buy the Indians.”

I glanced at him and turned my attention back to Christine. “But you are not one of these people.”

“No,” she agreed. “I am not one of the chosen.”

I was fascinated by Christine. She was so out of place here. She looked like she belonged to a Viking village, not among the shorter, squatter people here. I had seen no one, other than her, who was fair and blond.

I realized that I was ignoring the other woman. She was crouched on the floor near the door, her eyes on our feet. I said to her, “Who are you?”

“I am Huana,” she responded. “I am chosen for the capacocha. You have won me for your time here.”

“What’s the capacocha?”

“A sacrifice. I was due for the capachocha this morning, as were you, but your escape has won all of us a reprieve.”

Eric, holding a goblet in one hand and a large pear-like fruit in the other came toward us. He said, “I don’t like the sound of that. A reprieve.”

To Christine and Huana, I said, “You may feed yourselves. Please go to the table.”

As the two women stood and moved away, Eric said, “Which one do you fancy?”

I stared at him for a moment and then walked across the floor until I had reached the balcony. I walked out into the hot sunshine, or what would pass for sunshine on the surface. I leaned my hands on the sun warm railing and looked down, into the now vacant plaza. All this, everything about it was vaguely familiar. It stirred memories of my schooling but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The clues were all there, I was sure, if I could just take the time to figure it out. The natural assumption was that we had somehow found a lost tribe of Aztecs, but that wasn’t quite right either.

Eric joined me on the balcony. “Was it something that I said?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have the small, dark one.”

“Eric, these people are people, not pets. You can’t just have one like you would a dog.”

“Why not?” he asked, unreasonably.

“We just fought a war so that people wouldn’t own people and you come up with that.”

“Our war was fought to end all wars,” he said. “We didn’t fight the Civil War.”

“The principle is the same,” I said.

“All right,” he said, but I didn’t think that he agreed with me. “So, what’s our next move?”

I turned and looked at him. “You’re the leader of this expedition. What do you think?”

“I think that I know everything that I wanted to know. I have learned that my father was right. I think it’s time that we get the hell out of here.”

“I do too, but I don’t think they’re going to let us just walk out.”

Eric grinned. “Then we wait for dark and slip into the jungle.”

“And we’re going to need someone to help us through the jungle. We don’t have any idea of which way to go to reach tghe river.”

I leaned forward and looked down. Directly under us was a garden of some kind. There were several men tending the plants, cutting the leaves and trimming them. Flowers in wild colors bloomed everywhere.

“Before that,” he said, “I think we ought to eat and sleep. There’s not much we can do now.”

When he spoke of sleep, I realized just how tired I was. The little sleep I had gotten on the beach had not been all that restful. And neither of us had eaten in a long time. I turned and entered the palace again. The women were sitting on the floor, a large, golden platter of food between them.

I walked to the table and picked up one of the pear-like things. I bit into it. Juice dribbled down my chin. I found the flavor sweet. I ate it and then poured a goblet of the liquid that had been supplied. It was some kind of dry wine with an unusual aftertaste. I wondered if we had been poisoned, and then wondered why they would have gone to that much trouble. They could have killed us easily a dozen times before showing us to the rooms and they hadn’t done it.

I plucked another of the green pears from the table, poured another goblet of the wine and glanced at Christine. Although I felt tired, there were a dozen, a hundred questions that I wanted to ask her. I moved toward the beds and told her to follow.

When I laid down, she crawled onto the bed to lie right beside me.

“No,” I told her. “You sit there. Over there. I want to talk to you.”

She looked hurt, unhappy, but didn’t say anything. She did as I told her. When we were comfortable, I asked her to tell me about herself.

She had been born far from here, to a mother and father who were like everyone else in their village. Tall, thin, blond. She had thought nothing of it. Then, one day, the shorter, darker people entered the village and took away a number of the children. Both boys and girls. None of the parents protested. They were marched through the jungle until they arrived here. They were given rooms inside the pyramid and began instruction in the languages, history of these people and were told what their ultimate duties would be.

I listened to her, fascinated by the story. I liked the sound of her voice. But I was suddenly so tired that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. There was a disturbance at the far end of the room. A clatter of a goblet to the hard marble floor and then a cry of despair. A feminine cry.

I thought about sitting up to discover what had happened, but found that I didn’t have the energy to do it. The curiosity burned and I pondered the question with half my mind, but it seemed to be too much of an effort. Besides, Christine seemed to be unconcerned about the noise because she continued to talk. And then I could no longer hear her voice either. I slipped down, into the blackness of sleep, unaware fo everything that was happening around me.

Land to the North - Chapter Ten

Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. I realized that as soon as I said it. For one thing, we were isolated in darkness and I was sure that the guards would have torches with them. When they opened the cell door, they light would momentarily blind us, unless we had prepared for it. Now, that would be simple. When we heard someone coming, we could set a bundle of straw on fire to let our eyes adjust to the light.

I sat on the cold, damp stone and thought about everything that had brought me to this point. The only choice I had made was when Eric had arrived at my room in Kansas City. From that point I had drifted along, taking everything in stride. I had thought nothing through to the end and that was the reason I was now sitting in the cold dark cell. I hadn’t even been inclined to fight our captors until I saw the sacrifice of the children. Just drift along and let things flow in their natural direction.

“Once we’re out,” said Eric, “What’ll we do?”

“What was the purpose of this expedition?” I asked.

“Find a passage through the Earth’s crust and explore the Inner Earth. Prove that my father wasn’t deluded and learn what happened to him.”

“Have we succeeded in that?”

I heard a rustling as if he had moved to the straw bedding. “In a way,” he said, “but we have no proof. The pictures we were going to taken as proof are impossible because the camera is at the bottom of the river.”

“Eric,” I said, “we know where the place is. We know it exists. Hell, until we got here, you have to admit that there was a certain amount of doubt about it. But now that we know, we can come back with a proper expedition.”

“Yes,” he said.

“We know what we need now. Long boats and twenty men. Photographers and journalists. Weapons. We know exactly what we have to do.”

“Financing,” he said.

“Did you look around? There is gold all over the place. One of those ceremonial spears would be worth enough money to finance half a dozen expeditions.”

I had another thought and added, “Even the hint that there is gold for the taking ought to interest some. We can finance it that way.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “So our first task is to escape from here.”

“And our second is to find a way out of the Inner Earth. With our boat gone, we’ll need to locate one of the land entrances.”

“Or steal another boat,” he said. “Now, what’s your idea about escaping.”

I told him that one of us would have to be awake at all times, listening for the guards. When we heard them, we would have to light a couple of clumps of twisted straw so that our eyes would be ready.

“When the door opens, we shoot everyone we see standing in the way,” I said.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Just gun down all of them?”

“Eric, my friend, just what the hell do you think they’re going to do to us? We’re going to be killed just as soon as the party is arranged.”

“How do you do that?”

“Because a number of these primitive civilizations do that. Enemies captured in battle, or on the frontier, are sacrificed to the various gods. Hell, the Aztecs needed so many people for their sacrifices that they made war on the people surrounding them just to supply the victims.”

“You’re not suggesting that we’ve found the Aztecs are you?” His voice was high and tight with disbelief.

“No, not the Aztecs,” I said. I had a feeling about this, but it didn’t lead to the Aztecs.

“So the first thing,” said Eric, “is to prepare for the return of the guards.”

“Right.” I grabbed a clump of straw and twisted it together. I set that aside and prepared another. I had Eric give me a couple of matches and put them in my pocket. Then, using my fingers, I checked my weapon, slowly stripping the rounds from it and then reloading the magazine with seven bullets. That done, I cocked it, chambering a round, released the magazine and added one more round. Now there were eight. Carefully, I lowered the hammer. My .45 would now fire once I pulled back the hammer.

I sat down on my straw bed and waited. I stared upward, into the dark, hoping that morning would come soon. I had a real problem with that. We had come into the prison at high noon, although it would have been about five or six, if the sun ever moved. As we descended and the light of day faded to be replaced by the artificial light of flickering touches, I had the impression of the sun setting. All of it was in my mind. Now, in total darkness, I thought of it as night, although, if we escaped, it would be the middle of the day.

I put those thoughts out of my mind. Instead, I concentrated on the expedition, amazed at the amateurishness of it. We had climbed into our truck, driven north, piled into the boat and ended up here. No great sacrifices, no real hardships. We just blundered our way through it all. I hadn’t even kept an accurate journal of the trip, although, if I had, I probably would have lost it by now.

“Dave.”

I turned my head toward the sound of Eric’s voice.

“Dave,” he repeated. “I’m getting sleepy. You want to take the first watch.”

“Sure,” I said. I wasn’t in the least bit sleepy. In fact, my mind was racing. I felt like an idiot because of the way I had been acting. Slipshod. From one thing to the next without bothering to think about it. We had seen a snake that was almost a hundred feet in length and I hadn’t been surprised, or excited. I had wanted to run. We had found spiders that seemed to work together with a rudimentary kind of intelligence, and I had wanted to flee. I hadn’t thought to make notes about it. I hadn’t wanted to learn more about them. Not exactly good science or the things of a great expedition. I resolved to be a better scientist and explorer, when the chance showed itself.

All this was swirling in my head when I heard something at the far end of the dungeon. “Eric,” I hissed. “They’re coming.”

I dug in my pocket for my matches. I scraped one on the rough stone and it blazed. I blinked rapidly and touched it to the straw. As that began to burn, I looked away, rubbed my eyes and turned back, watching the flames.

Eric was up doing the same, his pistol in his hand. He glanced at me and grinned.

As the fire died, I heard voices outside our cell. There were at least three men there. I didn’t worry about that. They would not expect an attack, and if they did, they wouldn’t expect firearms. We would be able to shoot all three before they could react. That was to our advantage, but we had to be ruthless.

As I heard the key in the lock, I hoped that Eric could be as ruthless as me. I had never seen him in battle. I would have to rely on him.

The door was shoved violently, sweeping silently across the floor to bang against the wall. The clang reverberated throughout the dungeon. A torch was thrust into the cell, obviously meant to blind us.

I dropped to one knee, holding my pistol out in front of me, aiming at the door. A guard appeared, holding a short sword in his hand. As he stepped into our cell, I fired, the flame from the barrel stabbing out to touch his chest. He grunted in surprise and pain as crimson began to stain his rough shirt. He dropped to his knees.

A second man appeared and Eric fired. That guard dropped his sword as he twisted to the right.

There was a shout in the corridor. I leaped forward, over the body of the man I’d shot. As I entered the corridor, I caught a flicker in the corner of my eye. Instinctively I ducked. The blade flashed over my head and I felt the wind of the blow in my hair. The sword glanced off the stone wall with a dull, metallic clang. The guard shifted, attacking me. I jerked around and shoved my pistol into his belly. I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

The man recovered. He thrust at me and I dodged his blade. I used the side of the pistol and slammed it into his hand. He cried out in pain and staggered back. He tried to stab me again. With my free hand, I grabbed his wrist and jerked him toward me.

There was a shot behind me and the man dropped without a sound. I turned and saw the last guard fleeing along the corridor. The torch he had carried had fallen to the floor and was sputtering on the cold, damp stone.

I turned so that my right side was toward him. Slowly, I lowered my pistol, aiming at the center of the back. I squeezed the trigger until the weapon fired itself. The man was lifted from his feet. He clawed the air and then hit the floor. He bounced once and slid. He tried to get up and finally collapsed.

Behind me were two more shots. I spun and saw another guard leaning against the wall, dying. The yellow of his shirt was nearly obscured by his blood. In one hand, he clutched a sword. In the other was a torch that now lay against the stone.

Eric and I stood nearly back to back, watching the length of the corridor. Two torches lay on the stone floor. Two more were set in racks on either side of our door. One of the guards was groaning in pain.

There was a whimpering and I saw the woman for the first time. She was dressed as the children had been. A white robe that covered her from neck to ankles but that was so shear that I could see through it.

She looked up at me with huge brown eyes opened wide in fright. She put up a hand, as if to ward off a blow and said, “Por favor. Por favor.”

“Eric?” I said.

“I’m fine. You?”

“I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

“Which way?”

I reached down and pulled the woman to her feet. She stood rigid, her eyes staring at me, waiting for death. I pulled her to the side and took a torch from the wall. I handed it to her. She took it reluctantly, holding it away from her as if it was a serpent.

Before we moved, I took a dagger from the body of one of the guards. It seemed to have a gold blade and a jewel encrusted hilt. I tucked it into my belt and then began working my way along the corridor.

The woman was behind me, and Eric behind her. We stayed close to the wall. I ran one hand along the rough, wet texture as a guide. I listened intently, waiting for sounds that would indicate that more guards were coming.

From behind us, there was shouting but it didn’t sound like guards. It sounded like prisoners trying to figure out what had just happened. Wondering what the strange noise was.

We came to the end of the corridor. Three stone steps lead to a wooden door reinforced with iron. There were huge hinges with giant bolts. I climbed the steps, sure that the door would fly open. But it didn’t. I took hold of the large, metal ring that was the handle, sure that it wouldn’t open.

It swung toward me freely and quietly. As it came open, I jumped back, down the steps, my pistol raised. Behind the door there was nothing. Just another dark corridor that turned and lead to a stairway that would allow us to escape the dungeon.

We entered it and kept on moving. There were cell doors on both sides of us, but they all seemed to be empty. If there had been prisoners in them, I would have opened them, only for the confusion it would cause.

We came to stairs and hesitated. I listened but heard nothing. It was like no one knew what had happed, or if they did know, didn’t care. I looked back at Eric. His face was pale and the knuckles of his hand were white around the butt of his Mauser.

“You think it’s a trap?” he asked me.

“Don’t know.” I leaned against the wall and sat down. I ejected the magazine of my .45 and reloaded it. As I jammed the new rounds into it, I realized why it had failed to fire. If you push back on the barrel hard enough, it holds the hammer in place so that pulling the trigger does nothing. I had shoved the barrel into the guard’s stomach as hard as I could.

When I had my weapon fully loaded again, I stood up. I glanced at Eric. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, grinning. “What about the woman?”

“We’ll kept her with us for a while. If nothing else, she’ll be able to answer a few questions.”

Without another word I was on my feet, moving up the stairs. Stone stairs worn in the middle from the feet of thousands of prisoners and guards.

As I climbed, I became aware of light filtering into the blackness of the dungeon. Bright light reflecting from the dull surfaces of the stone walls and knew that an exit was close at hand. I was worried about that. It seemed to have been too easy to escape from the cell. Everything seemed to be too easy.

Again, at the top of the stairs, I halted. I could see the rectangle because the sides were not parallel. It was a strange thing to notice then. Maybe I was beginning to pick up the scientific detachment that I had lacked earlier. Or maybe my mind was searching for the mundane because I didn’t want to think about what lay beyond the door. My thinking had only taken me to the entrance of the dungeon. I hadn’t thought about what we’d do once we had to leave the prison and try to reach the jungle.

I inched forward, waiting for guards to rush me. I waited for men to swarm in the door. But none of that happened. I could hear nothing from the outside. It seemed that the streets were deserted and I wondered if we had managed to escape into what would be the middle of the night.

I stopped at the entrance and dropped to one knee. To the right was the massive form of the pyramid that we had seen the day before. To the left was the empty plaza where the crowd had stood chanting and cheering. And directly in front of me, nearly a hundred yards away, were the houses of stone and thatch where the inhabitants lived.

There were no sounds coming from anywhere. The air was as dead as that in a graveyard. If it hadn’t been for the sun overhead, I would have sworn it was midnight.

Tentatively, I took a step out. I glanced to the right, at the smooth stone surface of the pyramid. There were a few high clouds behind it. This was a monument to the sun god. I was sure of that.

Without a word, I started across the plaza. Ornate symbols had been cut into the surface of it, hidden the day before by the thousands of people who had stood on it. The symbols were painted in a riot of color. Some of them so large that only someone standing at the apex of the pyramid would be able to appreciate them.

I glanced over my shoulder and found both Eric and the woman following me. We walked rapidly, hoping to reach the safety of the streets. With each step, I waited for the alarm that would signal that we had escaped.

We crossed half the plaza when a single long note sounded behind us. There was a rising shout from thousands of voices and the people flooded into the plaza from every direction. Leading them were warriors, dressed in padded armor, holding colorful shields and carrying a variety of weapons.

As soon as I saw the multitude, I halted. I turned so that I was facing the ramp where the youngsters had been murdered the day before and saw that the high priest, or whatever he was, stood upon it, surrounded by his protectors, watching the show.

Something bumped my back and I realized that Eric was standing behind me, his back against mine so that we could cover one another. The woman had fallen to the ground at our feet and was weeping as if she expected to die with us.

The warriors ran at us and then slid to a halt. They stood ringing us, their shields held chest high. They stared at us over the tops of them as the shouting seemed to reach a peak and then dropped suddenly.

All at once it was quiet in the plaza. There were thousands of people there. Men and women, all wearing knee-length robes in a variety of colors. Reds and oranges and yellows and bright greens and deep blues. Many wore hats of multicolored feathers.

When there was silence, the high priest began a religious ceremony. He would shout something and the crowd would respond. It went on for a few minutes and then there was utter silence. The thousands of people made no noise. Absolutely none.

The man on the ramp spoke quietly and the crowd drew back, away from the warriors that surrounded Eric, the woman and me.

“Looks like this is it,” I said, trying to sound brave. I felt a fluttering in my stomach, not unlike that which I felt as I had gone over the top in the war. I knew that any moment a German bullet would cut me down. Here, I knew that I would die. In only minutes.

On a command from the ramp, the warriors lowered their spears so that the tips were aimed about belly high. I thumbed back the hammer of my .45. Since no one moved, I didn’t fire. I didn’t want to start the bloodshed.

Behind me there was a shot and the sound of a body falling. With that, there was a surge at me. I fired at the man in the yellow shirt and the bullet slammed him to the ground. He rolled to his side, grunting, his blood staining the cut stones of the plaza’s surface.

Then I had no time to watch. The men were coming at me quickly and I fired as fast as I could pull the trigger. One man dropped at my feet but then my weapons was empty and there was no time to reload.

I grabbed the point of a spear thrust at my stomach and jerked it to the side. As the man stumbled close, I smashed his nose with the side of my weapon. He released the spear and grabbed at his face as he fell to the ground.

Behind me there were several shots and the I felt Eric bump against me. He said, “Oh,” quietly, almost under his breath and slipped to his knees.

The warriors all advanced, the spears leveled but stopped with the points only inches from my flesh. I turned and saw that the woman still lived, the hem of her robe stained with blood, none of it her own. Eric was on his knees, his hands raised, blood on the side of his head.

From the ramp I heard the priest speak, first in the language I didn’t know and then in Spanish. He told his warriors to escort us to our new quarters in the palace. We were not to be harmed and the woman would stay with us.

A warrior, dressed in finer clothes than the common soldier, a jeweled dagger at his hip, pushed his way through the crowd. He stopped near the man I had clubbed to the ground. The officer took his jeweled dagger from its golden sheath, flipped it in his hand, and neatly cut the throat of the wounded warrior. The blood splashed down the warrior’s chest as he toppled to his side with only a quiet groan. He must have known what was going to happen, but failed to protest or to try to protect himself. He accepted his fate with stoic silence.

With the wounded dispatched, the officer waved a hand, gesturing to the rear of the plaza. A corridor among the warriors and the citizens opened as magically as Moses parting the Red Sea. The officer then bent to help the woman to her feet and while he did that, I dropped the spent magazine from my pistol. As it clattered to the stone under foot, I slapped a new one in. If there was going to be any funny business, I wanted to be ready for it.

Eric touched my shoulder. I saw a cut above his right eye and asked, “How are you?”

“It’s superficial. Head wounds always bleed like that. It’s minor at best.”

As we began to walk across the plaza, under an escort of warriors, and toward the large building constructed of white stone that resembled marble, the crowd began to applaud and then chant. It seemed to be an approval of us. I didn’t know if it was because of the stand we had made, our escape, or just our bravery in general.

“Now what?” asked Eric.

“As long as they don’t try to take us into that prison again, Let’s see where we’re going and what is going to happen. This could be interesting.”

“More interesting than the dungeon?” he asked.

I knew what he meant by that. I said, “Let’s hope a little more hospitable, anyway.”