The Mayan Priest

by Guillou, Sue

  Then there was her beloved father, the harsh man who had raised her to believe that she was the most cherished thing in his life. He was never easy to live with or easy to please, but he had always been truthful … or had he? She was no longer sure!

  Gillian’s mind turned to Samuel. As much as she didn’t want to believe it, she remembered him. She recalled long lost memories of a time she spent with him as a child, but why hadn’t her father told her about him? He must know who Samuel was.

  Gillian wiped away a stray tear. Worst of all was the location of her father. Where was he? Was he dead? She could not bear to consider the possibility. Despite his mistakes she loved him dearly and always would. She smiled suddenly and thought of Adam. He was unlike any other man she had known and despite constant attempts to control her emotions, she was drawn to him like a magnet to a fridge. There was no rationale to it. No reason for this to have happened. Never before had she allowed her feelings to take control of her common sense, but it had happened with Adam. She was lonely when he was not there, she enjoyed his company whether they were communicating or not and she respected his advice, intelligence and fortitude. Despite his inexperience, he was never afraid to give things a go and she respected that. If it was possible to fall in love in less than a week, then she had done it!

  She munched on her lip thoughtfully and a sudden push to her back caused her to bite into the tender flesh. A small drop of blood developed as Arun called them to a stop. Gillian looked about, noting that they had arrived 600 feet to the east of the original dig site and shaft that hopefully still contained her friends.

  Directly in front of her was a large circular bore that was being used as a passageway to remove dirt and debris from the site below the surface. She watched as the procession of workers decked in hard hats and lights stepped at regular intervals from the tunnel and into another tent where they emptied the buckets they were carrying.

  ‘We’ve finished with the heavy machinery and the men are removing the final build-up of dirt near the door I was telling you about,’ Arun directed at her. ‘It will be ready momentarily and I would suggest that the only way for you to save your friends is by co-operation,’ he added.

  ‘Why me? I would have thought that a rich, intelligent man like yourself would have the highest and most expensive technology at your disposal. Surely you could just blast your way in and steal like always?’

  Arun slapped her face. ‘You will do as you are told. Now, get her ready. She leaves in five minutes,’ Arun demanded of Samuel.

  The tension between Arun and Samuel was almost unbearable although Gillian detected a distinct change in Samuel’s attitude towards her. Where once he was her stalker and potential murderer, Samuel now appeared to deem her worthy of deliberation. His eyes had softened and he placed the hard hat and protective vest on her with care. Gillian nearly thanked him before remembering him for the killer he was. She stiffened involuntarily and moved away, although Samuel did not appear to notice as he ushered her back out into the open and towards the shaft.

  Gillian looked down. It was deep, dark and wide enough to allow two baskets to pass each other without touching. Despite her anger, she was impressed by the scale of the operation which bought about an amusing thought. Arun had obtained two large camouflage semitrailers ready to leave once they had been loaded with their expected treasure. It would be a fitting and somewhat humorous end if Kinix’s treasure was something that he cherished of a personal nature instead of the expected gold and jewels. She’d love nothing more than seeing Arun’s disappointed face.

  Samuel nudged her to gain her attention before ordering Gillian into one of the wicker baskets that looked like the base of a hot-air balloon. He had it lowered and followed in the one behind.

  Gillian took a deep breath. The hot, humid air gave way to a cool and pleasant environment and she almost found herself enjoying the forced isolation. Approximately thirty-five feet had passed before the distant light glowed brightly and she came to an abrupt halt on the bare dirt. She had expected dust to billow upwards, but the floor was damp and slippery, showing signs of water. She found this particularly disturbing as this area was known for its underground streams and the last thing she wanted was to drown.

  Gillian touched the walls and was relieved to note that they were dry although the lack of bracing or sealing worried her. This dirt had been compacted over many years, so when a large horizontal hole was excavated, the earth became unstable. In fact she had already noted a couple of fine cracks along the surface of the roof.

  Samuel followed her gaze.

  ‘There’s no way my father would allow us access unless it was safe.’

  Gillian did not respond. Arun did not give a damn about anyone other than himself and his earlier actions proved that even his own flesh and blood meant nothing to him.

  She was pushed forward roughly. ‘Hey!’ she muttered angrily as her objections were ignored and she was forced past a small group of workers before entering another tunnel that veered off in a westerly direction.

  Instinctively Gillian was aware that they were heading towards the original excavation site although they were a good five feet deeper. The current tunnel continued to descend a further twenty feet until it levelled out and twisted in a southerly direction. The temperature increased a couple of degrees and the air graduated from a cool but flowing breeze to a stagnant, stale atmosphere lacking in oxygen. Gillian slowed her breathing and stopped suddenly, her actions causing Samuel to crash into her back.

  He cursed loudly but Gillian was not listening. Her attention had been drawn to a subtle change in the wall colour.

  The earth had darkened and it was damp to touch.

  ‘Shit … shit!’ she said.

  Samuel’s expression of doubt had altered to concern, but this quickly faded and he pushed her forward regardless.

  Gillian scowled. Despite the strange connection she had developed with Samuel, she was no closer to liking him. He was a murderer then and an unpredictable bastard now. Still, he had piqued her curiosity and she restrained from arguing with him, choosing to walk quietly instead.

  She also noted that she had begun to tire which she feared was the lack of oxygen.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Samuel announced unexpectedly as they turned another sweeping corner to find themselves face to face with the back of an excavated stone wall.

  Gillian gazed in wonderment.

  In the very centre was a hole that had been created. It was approximately ten bricks high and five bricks wide, big enough for a reasonable-sized man to pass through. Gillian’s excitement escalated as she touched the ancient masonry with the nervous trepidation she often experienced when she was discovering something new.

  Gillian was eager and energised as she stepped through the gap, eyes wide and senses alert. Her expectations were high and she anticipated the discovery of something great.

  She was bitterly disappointed.

  With the use of a lantern, Gillian discovered something so devastating that that she felt physically ill and heaved involuntarily. With her head between her legs, Gillian took a close look at the wreckage of the lift that she had last seen her friends imprisoned by.

  ‘There was no one in it,’ insisted Samuel, his response characteristically abrupt although she sensed it was meant to bring her comfort and for that she was appreciative.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He nodded as he gestured to a tunnel on the opposite side of the circular room.

  Gillian obeyed, her mind confused by the one burning question she longed to know: where were they?

  Perhaps they had escaped. She could only hope.

  She gazed at the floor and noted the beautifully crafted stone shattered upon impact by the falling lift. It was almost sacrilege to see such devastation as she bent to examine the blocks, each measuring just over three feet square and a minimum of a foot thick. She marvelled at the finely chiselled and expertly fitted joins, the highly polished surface and
beautiful shades of colour the exquisite rock exhibited.

  Gillian picked up a small piece that lay broken just beneath a chunk of timber and held it in her hand, musing at the apparent misjudgment in size. This piece of block was only two inches thick and her thoughts began whirling as to the reason. Kinix never did anything by half and the unexpected inclusion of a two inch, faded but unmistakable figure on the opposite fascia made her laugh. Kinix was up to his old tricks. He had marked a spot in the floor that hid something of significance by using his own portrait. Only this time she was confused.

  His likeness was created specifically to blend into the colour of the tile. In fact it would be virtually impossible to pick out the image unless you knew what you were looking for.

  Her heart beat rapidly. The subtlety was so out of character for Kinix that it could only mean that she had discovered something that he had wanted to keep a secret.

  Samuel rushed to her side. ‘Did you find something?’

  ‘No,’ Gillian lied as she picked up a random sample of debris and tossed it aside using the distraction to slide the piece in question into her pocket.

  Samuel gazed at her with distrust in his eyes. ‘Get a move on. We don’t have time for your garbage.’ He was displeased at the delay and pushed Gillian roughly towards the opening.

  She did not argue, intent on keeping her secret and keen to discover what lay on the other side of the opening.

  Gillian was not disappointed this time. She felt as if she had stepped back 500 years.

  The room could only be described as large and ostentatious, and Gillian absorbed the details like a dry sponge. The floor was unpolished but glorious in its pale natural state and offset the highly coloured walls to perfection. The ceiling was constructed with twenty plaster panels, each painted with alternating scenes of Kinix’s life and the general living conditions in Tikal. Gillian indulged in the mating ritual of the jaguar, the abundance of food in Tikal, the advanced building talents of the Mayans and Kinix’s many journeys. The walls were equally telling and Gillian was able to follow Kinix from his first days as a priest to the confusing time after the death of his beloved Bahlum Paw Skull. It was so wonderful and she was so captivated that it took a few minutes before she registered the existence of a door in the wall to her right. Gillian moved to it with slow deliberation, taking a moment to make sense of what she was looking at.

  The door was of solid stone and set into an equally solid square frame. A series of twenty rotating blocks with a standard arrangement of Mayan hieroglyphics were placed in the centre, allowing Gillian to recognise the same type of code she used to enter the room where they located the third Kinix diary. In principle it looked to be quite basic, but it was this simplicity that caused alarm bells to ring. Kinix was not simple and, combined with an overly elaborate room, she sensed a bluff. It was almost as if this room was like a fly trap, designed to draw in its prey and move them towards an entrance that promised further treasures beyond. The simple access code was just enough to seem realistic but easy enough to break. Gillian had that sinking feeling that treasures on the other side were anything but.

  She wondered why Samuel had not just blown the door like he did with the walls.

  He seemed to understand her thoughts. ‘Our scientists have hit a wall. There appears to be some type of shield blocking our ground-penetrating radar and we’ve been unable to determine the contents of a solid mass behind this door. As far as we are aware, the Mayans did not have access to this type of technology.’

  Gillian did not respond. She recalled a thesis she read a couple of months ago about vast sheets of mica being used in the pyramids at Teotihuacán. Its purpose was unknown but its heat repellent properties could certainly deter radar.

  ‘Surely you could just drill through?’

  ‘We could, but Arun does not want to damage any potential treasures.’

  ‘You don’t need me to open this door. The lock consists of twenty blocks, the same amount of panels that are contained in the roof. The corner of each painted panel has a Mayan hieroglyph that represents their gods. It’s my guess that you just need to place them in the order of their importance.’

  Samuel gazed at her with an expression that she almost mistook as admiration. She shook her head; there was no way that this brute of a man would show her respect. She would not be silly enough to believe that his intentions were anything but selfish even if there was a clear case of brainwashing.

  ‘It’s time to open the door,’ Samuel insisted as his demeanour reflected determination and obedience. He would do whatever was necessary to fulfill Arun’s demands and Gillian almost felt an inkling of sympathy for him. It would be awful to be controlled by another human to the extent that you were unable to think for yourself.

  Gillian studied the locks and quickly spun the dials until they hit their predetermined order, pausing only when she arrived at the final combination.

  Samuel growled in anger, but Gillian refused to comply. She was fearful of what she would find. The entire situation was wrong. Kinix loved puzzles and yet there was nothing here to connect the journals or any of the clues they had discovered to this room, in particular the small square plaque they had found in the last obsidian box. All did not bode well and she did not want to be here when the door was opened.

  Samuel’s face reminded Gillian of an angry puffer fish. Blood rushed rapidly to the surface of his skin and his eyes reverted to the cold, calculated glare she had become used to. Any semblance of his more considerate side had vanished and he raised his hand to strike her when a very familiar voice interceded.

  ‘Gillian, my love. How I have missed you.’

  Gillian felt her heart leap. An uncontrollable mix of overwhelming relief and love flooded her very soul and she longed to run to him with a newly found, unabated joy. Emotion overtook sense and she spun where she stood to find herself face to face with her beloved fiancé. The familiar, well-groomed black hair, piercing blue eyes and toned body filled her with so much adoration that she almost threw herself into his outstretched arms.

  Her feet refused to move and try as she might, her heart was unable to overrule her brain. Gillian could not make sense of her feelings. What was wrong with her? Why was she unable to go to him?

  ‘Are you all right, love?’

  ‘Yes,’ Gillian lied as she looked at his face and saw what she had overlooked all of these years. It was almost as if someone had drawn back the curtains and revealed to her what her treasured father had failed to impart to her despite his numerous warnings. Gillian felt like a fool as she gazed at the man with the smile as false as zirconia.

  ‘Where are my friends, Richard, Mitchell, Julia and Redmond?’

  Fred’s smile faded. ‘You saw the lift on the way in.’

  ‘Are you telling me that they did not make it, yet you escaped without a scratch?’

  Fred scowled. ‘My fall was halted when my belt became caught on a protruding stone lever. I was just lucky.’

  ‘Lucky, my arse! What did you do to them, Fred? Did you murder them so you could survive? And why are you here with Samuel?’ Gillian shrieked in sudden understanding. She felt sick to her very core and despite the fact that she was not a vindictive person, she would have gladly shot Fred where he stood.

  ‘You were in on this all the time. That’s why you agreed to accompany me in the first place.’

  Gillian was so horrified that she could barely contemplate the thought that crossed her mind: if Fred had been bought by Arun, perhaps their whole relationship had been a fake. She felt betrayed, soiled and cheated. Fred had used her. Arun’s desire for antiquities was well known and he had instructed Fred to get close to Gillian for the purpose of obtaining inside information on new digs. Although Fred was also an expert in archaeology, Gillian was closer to leading authorities like Richard and she was also far more knowledgeable on hieroglyphics. It was also her connection to Richard that led them all to Tikal. In effect, Gillian has caused her friends’ pot
ential demise. She was devastated.

  ‘Where are my friends, you bastard!’ she screamed in fury as she pummelled Fred with all her might before ripping off her engagement ring and throwing it in his face.

  ‘My love, why are you so angry? All you need to do is open that door and I will tell you where to find them.’

  Gillian gained control of her emotions and took a moment to note the shallow and somewhat demonic expression that fleetingly appeared on Fred’s face. In some ways, she realised that he was even worse than Samuel. Samuel had been brainwashed from childhood. His gentle essence had been squashed and manipulated before he had the sense to choose for himself. Fred, however, made his choice as a thinking adult. He had been bought with the promise of wealth and notoriety.

  She spat in his face and watched in disgust as he licked the dribble that ran past his mouth.

  ‘My dear … as I recall, we have swapped more spit than I care to remember.’

  Gillian was mortified and barely reacted when Fred forced her to face the door. He kissed her passionately on the lips before smacking her backside. ‘Now, be a dear and open this door.’

  Gillian considered her options. She was surrounded by two burly men and was very much alone. There was no option but to comply.

  She spun the last dial and heard a resounding click. The door unlocked and seemingly developed a life of its own as it swung inward, revealing a dark abyss beyond. It was both beckoning and frightening and Gillian paused. Samuel and Fred did not.