He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Ethan was looking up at the arch with a grim expression on his face. Even if the American didn't recognize the god he was looking at, that awful skull left nobody in any doubt about its meaning.
Beyond the arch, the ground was covered in cobblestones; ahead, a couple of smooth stone steps led up to a higher level. Now Alec could see that there were dwellings on either side of them, simple wattle and daub huts with thatched roofs to begin with; but as they walked on, these were replaced by grander dwellings made of adobe, with elaborate stone roofs. Most of the buildings were based around a central courtyard; there were people walking around – the men mostly naked save for loincloths and the occasional multi-coloured woven cloak, the women in loose-fitting blouses and full-length skirts, their black hair tied into buns. Groups of children ran here and there, squealing and shouting.
Alec was amazed by what he was seeing. Part of him was terrified by the thought of what might be awaiting them, but he was also fascinated: he seemed to have stepped into a time machine and flown back some six hundred years to an era that should not even exist in the modern age. As he looked around, he saw people engaged in their everyday routines: women cooking on open charcoal fires or grinding maguey cactus into flour; men working on houses, plastering wooden frameworks with handfuls of adobe. Here a woman sat in an open courtyard, weaving a piece of cloth. There, a line of men carried straw baskets of what looked like maize upon their backs. But as the captives were led past, every person stopped to stare at them in silence.
Now they passed a loop of a broad river. Alec could see a wooden jetty and many dugout canoes moored beside it. In the shallows men with spears stood watching for fish; their catch hung from a wooden frame, plump bodies shimmering in the sunlight. On the far side of the river, other men were working in the fields.
The prisoners were led into the heart of the city, the buildings ever more elaborate, until they were passing by dwellings supported by huge stone columns. Then they rounded a corner, and there was the edifice that Alec had spotted from the plane – a huge step pyramid of smooth-plastered stone that rose high into the air. It culminated in a platform, where once again a huge stone figure of Mictlantecuhtli stood behind an altar like a great demon presiding over his empire. There was a look on the statue's skull-like face that seemed to express an unspeakable evil. There was something odd about the pyramid, Alec noticed, something he hadn't seen from the plane. The summit seemed to be hollow and from it issued a haze, as though a great heat was rising from within it.
Around the base of the pyramid, a curious crowd was assembled – mostly men with shoulder-length hair, their faces painted with bright colours or blackened with what looked like soot. Some of them were wailing and one man, stripped to the waist, was sticking cactus needles into his bare flesh, which ran with blood. Others were beating their backs with canes, their eyes staring as though they were in a trance. One old man scampered towards Alec and started performing some kind of mad dance in front of him, but the guards pushed him away and led their prisoners onwards.
Off to the side of the pyramid, on a raised platform, two figures were waiting, as though they had been expecting these guests. The first was a tall thin man wearing an elaborate feathered headdress, a multi-coloured beaded yoke, metal bracelets, and a long cloak decorated with thousands of shimmering green quetzal feathers. He had a cruel face, Alec thought; he was somebody to be feared. He stood there, observing the approaching captives with a sardonic smile, but it was impossible to tell what might be in his mind.
The man beside him was more simply dressed in a white cotton singlet that hung to his knees; he was shorter by a good six inches. He was also much older and had a thick grey beard. Though his skin was darkened by years of exposure to the sun, Alec could see that he was a white man – and as if to confirm the fact, the eyes that surveyed him as he came up the last few steps were pale blue in colour.
There was a silence and they stood there, waiting for somebody to speak. Ethan opened his mouth to say something but the old man lifted a hand to stop him. He smiled.
'Good day to you,' he said, in a cultured voice that was unmistakably English. 'May I welcome you to the city of Colotlán, which in your tongue means . . . the place of scorpions.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Travers
There was another long silence after that. Alec stood there staring at the old man: he had so many questions forming in his head, he hardly knew which one to ask first. At last he came up with something that sounded about as stupid as was humanly possible.
'You're an Englishman!'
But the bearded man shook his head. 'No,' he said, 'I was an Englishman once, long ago, when I was . . . young and foolish. Now I am Aztec.' He spoke in a slow, halting manner, as though he had to think carefully about every word before uttering it. 'You must . . . ah . . . forgive me. I have not had much occasion to use my . . . my native tongue, except to teach some of the people here the . . . the occasional phrase. It amuses them.'
Ethan shot a look at Tlaloc. 'Yeah, I think you taught laughing boy there just four words. Shut up and We go !'
The old man chuckled at this. 'That would be . . . about right,' he admitted. 'I have two . . . students, who have learned very well, but most are content with the odd word. Forgive me . . . my name – my Aztec name – is Coyotl, which in your tongue means wolf. The people here think of me as' – he had to consider for a moment – 'cunning! Yes, that's the word. They think of the coyote as a cunning creature and some thought I had that . . . that quality about me. But of course, back in the days when I . . . lived among the white men, I had another name. Travers.'
Nelson seemed to recognize this. 'Colonel Travers?' he murmured. 'Colonel William Travers?'
Travers bowed his head. 'Ah, I see somebody has . . . heard of me!' he said.
'I should say I have! A big story once, though I guess I'm going back fifteen, twenty years?' He looked around at the others. 'None of you ever heard of Colonel Travers? An unsolved mystery around Veracruz,' he explained. 'It was in all the papers. The colonel here headed up an expedition into the Huasteca Veracruzana back in . . . what – must have been nineteen ten or thereabouts? His team set off into the jungle and were never heard of again. People at my oil rigs still talk about it to this day. You're a legend, Colonel Travers.'
'Really?' Travers looked genuinely surprised. 'I must say I'm . . . astonished to learn this. It was a very long time ago.'
'Well, you don't know how glad we are to meet you,' said Frank.
'I am . . . delighted to hear it,' said Travers. 'Though how long your delight will last is . . . debatable. Yes, I believe that's the word. Debatable.' He seemed to remember the man standing beside him and bowed his head politely. 'This man is called Itztli,' he said. 'He's the . . . high priest of the temple of Mictlantecuhtli; next to the emperor he's possibly the most . . . powerful man in this city.'
Everybody bowed their heads to Itztli but he seemed unmoved. Alec had a bad feeling about him. He'd had dealings with a high priest once before . . .
Itztli looked at Travers and said something to him. The colonel nodded and turned back to face them.
'Itztli asks about the . . . er . . . sky chariot you came in,' he said. 'I told him it's only a . . . a machine that men have made, much like the biplanes I remember from my days in the military. But he demands to know what . . . magic makes it fly.'
Ethan laughed at that. 'Tell him the magic's all gone. Damned thing crashed and went up in flames. We were lucky to survive.'
Travers conveyed this information and Itztli considered it for a moment. Then he spoke quickly and agitatedly. Travers nodded and conveyed the message.
'Itztli says that Quetzalcoatl, the god of the air, tore you from the sky for . . . daring to trespass in his domain.'
'Yeah, whatever,' said Ethan. 'Listen, pal, do you think you could get these boys to cut through our ties? I'm starting to lose the feeling in my hands.'
&nb
sp; Travers looked at him blankly. 'Why . . . Why would I do that?' he asked.
Ethan stared at him. 'Why? Because you're an Englishman and there's three English people in this party. And two Americans. Don't forget, we fought beside you in the Great War!'
'There was a war?' asked Travers.
'Heck, yes, the Great War. The war to end all wars. That's what they called it. It was us versus Germany.'
'Us?' Travers looked uncomfortable with this description. 'I cannot say I am surprised,' he said. 'I thought a war was coming – that is why I . . . came to Mexico in the first place. I'd had enough of the modern world. I came into the Huasteca Veracruzana looking . . . for adventure. After months of searching, I and my companions found this.' He gestured around at the city. 'Can you wonder that I elected to stay? Look at it, my friends! Is it not . . . incredible?'
'It is,' admitted Alec. 'All of it. It looks as though it hasn't changed for hundreds of years. It . . . it's like stepping into a time machine.' He gazed up. 'Can I ask, though . . .'
'Yes?' murmured Travers.
'The heat rising from the step pyramid – what is that exactly?'
Travers followed his gaze as though he hadn't noticed before. Then he turned back and smiled. 'The temple is built over the gateway . . . to the underworld,' he said.
Alec stared at him, puzzled. 'You mean . . . it's built over an active volcano?'
Travers shook his head. 'I mean what I said. The words you use are those a white man would say. But every person in this city knows that . . . below us lies the land of Mictlan – the underworld. That is why this city was built here and . . . dedicated to the god who rules that world.'
Alec frowned. 'But . . . isn't that incredibly dangerous? I mean, what if the volcano were to erupt? It could destroy everything.'
Travers smiled. 'You do not understand,' he said. 'Provided we continue to . . . appease the god, that will not happen. We have always been at Mictlantecuhtli's mercy. Oh, he has shaken his fist at us many times over the years. He has caused damage, for sure. But he is merciful. If we obey his laws and make the necessary . . . sacrifices to him, we will continue to receive his mercy.'
Coates snorted in disbelief. 'Oh, come along now, you can't believe that mumbo jumbo! You're a civilized man, for goodness' sake.'
Travers looked at the valet and his expression became cold and hard. 'You are ignorant of our ways, so I will . . . overlook your words this time. Be sure that Itztli does not learn that you have uttered such . . . blasphemy, for he would not be so forgiving.' He looked around at the dismayed faces. 'And please do not think that I cling to any of my old beliefs. I still have the language, but I am Aztec now. I follow their ways, their beliefs.'
Ethan shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, we're all real pleased for you, Colonel. But listen, if you'd just cut us free and point us in the right direction, we'll be out of your hair and you can get on with whatever it is you guys do for fun around here.'
Travers stared at Ethan for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. He said something to Itztli and the priest laughed too, but it was a cold, mirthless laugh.
Alec and Ethan exchanged baffled looks.
'Listen,' said the American. 'Maybe I'm missing something here, but I wasn't aware that I had such a gift for comedy.'
Travers sighed. 'You are going nowhere, my friend. You are our . . . guests and you will be staying with us until we decide what is to be done with you.'
At this, Conchita pushed her way forward. 'You don' understand,' she told Travers. 'I can't stay here. I have a screen test in Tonala with Louis B. Mayer.'
Travers stared at her, as though she was speaking a completely different language. Itztli too was gazing at her with interest. He said something to the old man, looking at Conchita all the time. Travers nodded.
'The high priest says that you are very . . . beautiful,' he told Conchita.
'Tell him thanks a bunch, but I need to get out of this dump.'
Alec winced. Probably not the most diplomatic thing to say about the Aztec city, he thought.
'It is you who do not understand,' Travers explained. 'You have found favour with Itztli. He honours you by offering to . . . give you to the emperor as one of his wives.'
'As one of his . . .' Conchita stared at the high priest, her mouth open in dismay. 'Ay-yi-yi. But . . . I can't do that, I already have a husban'.' She jerked her head at Frank. 'This my husban',' she said desperately. 'He won' like it if I marry somebody else – isn't that so, Frank?'
'Er . . . yeah, that's right,' agreed Frank, going along with her. 'We . . . we been married for years, ain't we? You can't just take somebody cos you like the look of her! That ain't cricket!'
Travers spoke to Itztli and the priest shrugged his shoulders, as though he'd been told something of no consequence. He gestured to Tlaloc and said something to him in Nahuatl. The warrior strode forward, pulling a huge knife from his belt. Frank stared at him, his eyes bulging in terror, but Tlaloc simply cut through the ropes binding him and Conchita together. He took her roughly by the shoulder and started to lead her away. Frank tried to follow, but with his hands tied behind his back there was really nothing he could do.
'Take your hands off of her!' he bellowed. 'How dare you!'
Tlaloc simply raised a hand and slapped the Englishman hard across the face, knocking him back into the others. He stumbled and nearly fell but Luis and Nelson helped him regain his feet. Tlaloc summoned a couple of his warriors, who ran forward and began to drag Conchita away. She struggled and shouted as she was propelled through an open doorway in a stone building that adjoined the temple.
'This is not right!' she shrieked. 'I'm a Mexican citizen! You can't push me around. I don't wanna marry nobody! Frank! Frank, help me!'
They could hear her voice echoing as she was led away down unseen corridors.
Frank spun round, glaring at Travers. 'You can't do this!' he yelled. 'Call yourself a gentleman? You're acting more like a ruddy savage!'
Travers seemed unconcerned by Frank's outburst. 'I do not call myself . . . a gentleman. And if you see me as a savage, then so be it. I have told you, I am Aztec now. And here in this city, Itztli's word is law. I would advise you to keep quiet.'
'I will not stay quiet!' roared Frank. 'You can't push us around like this. I—'
'Frank, pipe down!' snapped Ethan irritably. 'Shouting isn't going to change anything. Don't worry, we'll figure something out.' He stared at
Travers. 'OK, Colonel,' he said. 'Mind telling us what happens next?'
Travers spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. 'For now, you will be kept in a . . . a secure place. Itztli wishes to speak to the lord of Mictlan and seek his guidance in this matter.'
'Oh yeah, how does that work? He's gonna get him on the telephone, is he?'
Travers looked at Ethan for a moment, then said something to Tlaloc, who stepped forward and punched Ethan in the stomach. The big man doubled up, forcing Alec down too.
'Ethan,' he gasped. 'Are you all right?'
He nodded. Rage blazed in his eyes but with his hands tied behind his back he was powerless to do anything. He glared up at Tlaloc.
Travers regarded him calmly. 'Allow me to explain how this works,' he said. 'When I first came here all those years ago, with the . . . the other members of my expedition, we were . . . taken prisoner, just as you are. Many of my companions could not accept that they were . . . slaves and tried to fight against it. I watched them die. Many of them died badly, screaming for mercy. But from my very first glimpse of Colotlán, I knew I wanted to belong to it. I gave myself up to my captors and I . . . undertook all the trials of strength they made me submit to. I came close to dying . . . many times, but in the end, I . . . I . . . convinced them that I was of good heart, that I wanted to be like them. It takes great . . . courage to be an Aztec, my friends. Courage and strength. Some of you may have those qualities within you. Those who do not will go to meet the lord of the underworld.'
Alec
considered these words and felt a cold dread rising within him. He knew all about the blood sacrifices made by the Aztecs and he knew also that being just a boy would not exempt him from death. Children were often sacrificed too.
'Get up now,' Travers told them. 'Tonight you rest, and perhaps with the morning will come news of your fate.'
Ethan and Alec struggled to their feet. Ethan glared at the old man. 'Just so you know,' he said. 'You just made it onto my list of people that I don't much care for.'
Travers shrugged. 'Ah well,' he said. 'I suppose I'll just have to . . . live with that.' He lifted a hand to summon Tlaloc, but as he did so, Alec felt a strange tremor in the stone beneath his boots. It started gently but then started shaking in earnest, threatening to topple him off his feet. Then he heard a deep rumble far below. There was an abrupt whoosh of air and he looked up at the summit of the pyramid, just in time to see a flash of light and a great cloud of black smoke belching out from the flue and darkening the sky above them.
Itztli turned to look at it too, an expression of delight on his thin face.
The tremor lasted only a few moments. Then it subsided and the ground was still again. The high priest turned back to look at the remaining warriors from the hunting party, who seemed to be waiting for his words. He said something in Nahuatl – something that sounded jubilant – and the men cheered and raised their fists in the air. Travers smiled at the captives. 'Itztli says this is a good omen,' he said. 'The lord of the underworld expresses his . . . pleasure at the arrival of the outsiders.'
Ethan looked at him in disgust. 'You're as crazy as a bed bug,' he said.
The colonel seemed to have no answer to that. He signalled to the warriors and they took hold of their prisoners and began to herd them towards the building into which Conchita had been taken.
'This is not good,' said Coates dismally as they were propelled along cool stone corridors. 'This is not good at all.'
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