by Alex Archer
No one spoke. The only sound was the crackling of the flames from the torches and the occasional clatter when one of Annja’s thick-soled boots sent a rock spinning away from them in the darkness. The one time she started to ask a question, Bent Nose nudged her and added a whispered “Shh.”
At one point they came around a bend and were suddenly assaulted by the sound of water rushing past them in the darkness. Annja started and glanced around, expecting a wall of water to come rushing down the narrow tunnel at them, but nothing happened. Curious, she stepped closer to the wall. The sound of the river grew louder the nearer she got. A glance at the wall showed the stone literally sweating from the moisture that was running somewhere on the other side. Another decade or two was all it was going to take for the water to find a way through the barrier and into the tunnel they were now using.
Nature always finds a way.
Eventually the tunnel leveled out and even began climbing slightly back up the way they had come. Not too long after that daylight began to filter back down the tunnel toward them and Annja guessed that they were nearing its end. Her suspicions were confirmed when they rounded a corner to see the opening at the other end of the tunnel, guarded by four more warriors.
As they approached, the two groups greeted each other. Bent Nose and his party were obviously expected. Annja, however, was not, and the new tribesmen stared at her in undisguised surprise, much like the first group back at the temple entrance. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Hadn’t they seen outsiders before?
There was more than enough light and those carrying torches dowsed them in a barrel of water set to one side and then left them there. With a light step Bent Nose led her toward the cave exit.
Reaching it, she hesitated for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the sunlight after being in the dark for so long. She stepped out on the ledge in front of the cave mouth and stared down in wonder at the valley below and at the city nestled within it.
She had found the Lost City of the Kalahari.
33
While in the Azores several years ago, Annja had the chance to visit Furno do Enxofre, Sulfur Cave, a magnificent forest-covered subterranean grotto inside a dormant volcano on the island of Graciosa. She’d had the pleasure of descending to the bottom of the caldera by a set of spiral stairs cut into the wall of the volcano and had stood among the lush vegetation at the bottom looking up at the blue sky through the opening some three hundred feet above her head.
She was looking at something eerily similar now, except the forest had been replaced by a city of stone sprawling out along the shore of a subterranean lake complete with its own cascading waterfall. Red-orange sunlight poured in from the opening high above, striking the eastern side of the valley floor, leaving the west in shadow, and Annja knew that it would gradually stretch outward as the sun fell completely behind the rim above.
She could see people on the streets below, tending to their business in the late-afternoon sunlight, and here and there Annja thought she saw a dog at their heels.
As she gazed out at the incredible sight, she noticed two buildings set off by themselves near the summit of the waterfall. The first was a multistory structure that reminded her of a palace, with its curving lines and sophisticated design, vastly superior to the blocklike construction of the rest of the city’s buildings. The second building rose like a beacon behind the first, a tall, slender cylinder that towered over everything else in the valley. From this distance she couldn’t tell if it was ornamental—like an obelisk or a stele—or if it was some kind of functional space such as a watchtower.
She made a mental note to investigate both buildings, when the opportunity arose.
If the opportunity arose, she amended, pulling at her bindings to see if they had loosened at all during the trek.
They had not.
Bent Nose stepped up beside her and swept his arm across the view in front of them, taking in the entire city with a single motion.
“!Ksanna,” he said, making that odd clicking sound with his tongue in front of the first syllable.
When Annja looked at him questioningly, he pointed at the city and said it again. “!Ksanna.”
Annja understood. The city’s name was !Ksanna.
She tried it out a couple of times, working to integrate the click sound properly, and Bent Nose smiled at her efforts, though whether he did so out of appreciation or amusement was unclear.
Bent Nose led her over to a wooden platform built into the side of the rock ledge where a large basket constructed of tree branches woven together with ropelike vines sat. The makeshift gondola was big enough to carry fifteen men by Annja’s estimate; their party fit into it without difficulty. Nestled into an alcove in the cliff face behind the basket was a sophisticated wheel-and-pulley system that ran this primitive version of an elevator.
When they were settled inside the gondola, Bent Nose grasped a lever standing upright just outside the basket and gave it a good yank. In response, the large wooden spool in the alcove began turning, letting out the rope coiled around it, and the basket began descending at a slow, measured speed.
Annja did a quick calculation and guessed that it would take at least ten minutes to reach the bottom at this rate, which only increased her impatience. She wanted to go faster; she couldn’t wait to see the city she had been through so much to find. She also hoped she’d be able to discover exactly what had happened to Humphrey. The question of why he hadn’t returned from his last expedition still hung over her. She hoped the answer to that was down below within the city proper.
She wasn’t the only one impatient to get down apparently. Bent Nose abruptly turned to one of his men and barked out a string of orders. The warrior nodded, slung his bow over his shoulder and then hopped up on the edge of the basket.
A half moment later she nearly had a heart attack when he swung his legs over the outside edge and dropped over the side. She rushed to the edge and glanced down, only to find him shinnying down the rope stretched out taut beneath the basket, making his way toward the ground below as fast as his hands and feet could carry him. At the rate he was going, he was likely to reach the bottom several minutes before they did.
She wondered what was so important that their leader had to send word on ahead rather than wait for the group to reach the ground themselves. Could it be her, a stranger’s arrival?
The trip to the valley floor took closer to twenty minutes than ten, but at last they touched down with a bump. They disembarked, with Annja in the middle of the group.
They had come down in a clearing inside a grove of green trees. The city itself was east of them, on top of a series of low rises, like a miniature Rome astride its seven hills. A well-marked and well-traveled footpath led through the woods toward the city. Annja rightly assumed that was the direction in which they were headed.
Before they got under way, however, Bent Nose paused. He stared at Annja for a long moment and then gestured for her to turn around so her back was to him.
There was a sharp tug on her wrists and then, to her surprise, her bonds fell away, leaving her hands free.
Bent Nose was just slipping a knife back into his belt when she turned to face him, rubbing the sore spots on her wrists where the rope had dug in. He shrugged before indicating with his hand that it was time to leave.
If she was going to run, now was the time to do it. Overpower those around her, scale the ropes back up to the ledge and head off down the tunnels she’d entered through. She was confident she could handle the warriors that had been left to guard the entrance; they’d be looking for danger in the other direction and wouldn’t see her coming until it was too late.
But her need to learn what had happened to Humphrey kept her feet firmly on the ground.
She’d come this far.
As they stepped away from the basket, the lift’s control mechanism came into view. It was a large wooden wheel set horizontally on a wooden post, wrapped with a thick series of ropes. Four
large beams extended from the wheel at each of the cardinal points of the compass.
Turning the wheel clockwise by pushing against the beams would wind out the rope and lower the lift to the ground. Turning the wheel counterclockwise would do the opposite, winding up the rope and raising the lift to the ledge high above. It was simple, yet elegant. The leverage provided by the wheel-and-pulley system allowed the lift to be operated with only a few men, regardless of how many were in the basket.
There were four operators standing near the wheel, but all of them were facing away from Annja. Something about their stance told Annja they were reluctant, as if they had been ordered to turn away. Annja glanced at Bent Nose but he didn’t seem to notice, neither her scrutiny nor the lift workers themselves.
Curious.
At a signal from Bent Nose, the group started up the path toward the city. The warriors were much more at ease now, walking with their bows strapped over their backs and a lightness of step that told Annja they were not afraid of anything in the forest around them. For her part, Annja was amazed at the vibrancy and lushness of the foliage. To her it felt as if the valley existed outside space and time and it was easy to forget that just on the other side of the tunnels they’d passed through was one of the driest parts of Africa. She was amazed that this place had existed so long without being discovered by the outside world.
Of course the warriors around her probably had something to do with that, she thought grimly.
Emerging from behind the trees, Annja could see the city just ahead of them. They continued forward, leaving the path behind and making their way down a wide street she took to be a major thoroughfare. Most of the structures they passed were one- or two-story buildings, though she could see taller ones poking above the skyline. All the structures were constructed of rough-hewn stone blocks held together with some kind of dried mortar. Straw and mud, most likely. Both materials were plentiful and easy to repair. The buildings reminded her of the walls in Farini’s turn-of-the-century photographs, though smaller and more refined. It was difficult to tell the age of them by looking. They seemed old, but there was a lot less wear than she expected and it took her a moment to remember that the entire city was protected, in part, from the elements by its very location.
They could be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old and they still would have fared far better than any structure out on the open plain.
They entered the city proper and began moving down a winding series of roads. Wherever Annja looked she saw signs of an established, successful culture. The buildings were in good repair. The streets were clean. Bright color could be seen everywhere, from decorations and paintings on the buildings themselves to clothing hanging out to dry in the sun on balconies and terraces. Even the air, crisper and cooler with more than a hint of humidity from the nearby lake, was clean and free of the smell of human presence that so often pervaded towns and villages throughout the third world.
One thing she didn’t see, anywhere, was people.
The streets around them were deserted.
It was as if the throng she’d seen from the ledge high above had simultaneously decided they had something else to do, somewhere else to be and, at precisely the same moment, had acted on that impulse without hesitation or delay.
Ri-i-ight.
Now Annja understood what the warrior Bent Nose had sent on ahead of them had been instructed to do. That he’d managed to clear the streets on his own, in less than fifteen minutes, was astounding. It spoke of a highly regimented and highly organized society.
In her current situation, Annja wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
They made several turns, traveling into the center of the city. Once, Annja saw someone peeking out at her from behind partially opened shutters, quickly disappearing at a glance from Bent Nose. Annja hadn’t seen if it had been man, woman or child. Besides the group she was traveling with, that was the only other person she saw.
Eventually they found themselves at the foot of another hill that held a single building: The palace-looking structure she had seen from the ledge above. Bent Nose headed toward it without a word.
It seemed Annja was going to meet whoever was in charge sooner rather than later.
34
A phalanx of guards lined the steps leading to the building’s entrance, spears and bows ready. As they drew closer Bent Nose placed a hand on Annja’s arm, indicating that she should hang back with the others, while he stepped out ahead to meet with the leader of the guards.
Annja watched as the two men conferred for a few minutes. It was clear that the captain of the guard, a tall muscular fellow who looked more than capable of handling himself in a tight spot, was upset about something to do with her. He showed considerable deference to Bent Nose, however, which raised the other man’s standing in Annja’s eyes and caused her to wonder if he were more than just your average scout party leader. A minor noble, maybe? The son of an elder? It was hard to say without knowing more about the group’s social structure.
Whatever the case, the two men apparently came to a compromise. Bent Nose returned to Annja’s side, the captain in tow, and the two of them took up position on either side of her. Bent Nose gave a short speech to his men, waited for them to acknowledge what he had said and then turned to Annja, taking a firm grip on her arm, just above the elbow. He nodded to the captain, who quickly did the same. Satisfied that their prisoner was now in their control, the two men started up the stairs to the palace, bringing Annja along with them. Behind them, a pair of palace guards followed suit, while the rest of the existing guard, plus Bent Nose’s men, remained where they were.
It seemed she was headed for a semiprivate audience with the rulers of the city.
Her captors led her inside, down several corridors, until at last they came to a stop before a set of double doors guarded by a pair of men. There was a brief exchange and then the guards were opening the doors and ushering them inside.
As they stepped into the room, Annja gasped at the sight before her.
It was some kind of audience chamber. That much was obvious from the dais with a throne sitting on it. The throne was extraordinary. It appeared to be fashioned from the largest elephant skull she had ever seen. The skull had been turned upside down, so the crown rested on the floor, and the skull cavity itself converted into a seat. In that position the tusks curved downward at an angle, creating a paired set of armrests. Long, curved bones—ribs, maybe?—had been attached to the back of the throne like the feathers on a peacock’s tail, giving it a wingback appearance.
But what drew her attention was the oversize diamond set into the wall just above the throne. It had to be a foot across and must have weighed a hundred pounds. Even though it was rough and uncut, Annja recognized it for what it was immediately and knew that in its present state it would be worth tens of thousands of dollars on the open market. If it were to be cut and polished, that figure would grow exponentially.
Two concentric circles of symbols had been painted around it and Annja was reminded of the icons surrounding the Mayan calendar. Did these symbols have a similar purpose of keeping time?
Two men walked out of the shadows on the left side of the dais and crossed toward the throne. Beside her Annja felt both the captain and Bent Nose stiffen.
The first man was old, perhaps even the oldest human being Annja had ever seen. He was small and wizened, with a face so wrinkled it seemed to swallow his features, so that his eyes seemed to shine out of his face like a pair of searchlights in the dark. He was dressed in a colorful sarong that left his chest and arms bare, just like his feet. He crossed the dais, climbed into the skull throne and looked at her with interest.
The man accompanying him was much larger, a few inches over six feet, and wore a bright robe that covered him from head to foot. The hood on the robe was pulled up, hiding his face completely. After following the tribal elder to the throne, he took a few steps down the front of the dais and then stopped, standing between th
e two groups.
The elder said something Annja couldn’t translate.
“I am Lato, elder and tribal chief of the People,” the robed giant said, repeating the words of the man on the throne behind him in English. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
Annja stared at him in surprise.
He’d spoken in English.
It took her a moment to find her voice, but when she did she made certain to speak in a calm, clear voice.
“Myself and my companion were being held against our will by evil men. We managed to escape and sought refuge in the mountains, where your people found us.”
“Where is this companion now?”
Annja shook her head. “I do not know. We were separated before your people arrived.”
The elder turned to Bent Nose and had a brief conversation. The translator did not share what was said, so Annja didn’t know exactly, but she had a hunch the elder was asking if what she was saying was true. After several minutes of back-and-forth with his subordinate, the elder turned to her once more.
“Nagamush says that you were surrounded by enemies when the People found you and yet, regardless of the odds, you were prepared to fight, like a lioness protecting her cubs. When the People captured you, you did not fight back. He is confused by this.”
Annja glanced over at Bent Nose—Nagamush, she corrected herself—and then addressed her reply to the elder.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Eldest. Until they took me prisoner against my will, the People had not given me reason to consider them anything but a friend.”
The elder pursed his lips, clearly not happy with her translated answer. His response was quicker this time. Almost as if he hadn’t needed to hear a translation.
“You invaded our territory with weapons in your hands. Did you think the People would simply let that pass? Did you think we were too weak to deal with our enemies?”