The Treasures of Suleiman

by The Treasures of Suleiman (retail) (epub)

  * * *

  Brandon caught up with India.

  ‘What did you do?’ she asked.

  ‘Slowed him down a bit,’ said Brandon.

  ‘How long have we got?’

  ‘No more than a few minutes. Come on, there must be civilisation around here somewhere.’ They carried on running but hadn’t gone a hundred yards when another primeval roar reverberated around the forest.

  ‘Shit,’ said Brandon, ‘I guess I didn’t hit him hard enough. This is our last chance, India, run like you have never run before.’

  For several hundred yards they ran as fast as the surroundings allowed them to and they tripped more than once, but just as they thought they were clear, India stopped dead in her tracks.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he gasped.

  ‘There’s nowhere else to go,’ said India. ‘It’s a dead end.’

  Brandon stood alongside her and saw they were on the edge of a small cliff. Below them lay a valley, but the cliff was too steep to climb down. To one side a stream poured over the edge and into a pool thirty feet below.

  ‘We’ll have to go back,’ said India.

  ‘There’s no time,’ said Brandon. ‘We have to jump.’

  ‘No way,’ said India. ‘I’ll break my neck.’

  ‘We don’t have a choice, India,’ said Brandon frantically. ‘Kosta will be here in less than a minute. At the moment he can’t see us, so if we are not here, he may think he has made a mistake and turn back to recheck the trail. India, that pool will be deep, trust me. This stream bed looks very old and water of that force digs a deep hole in the valley floor. Come on, take my hand.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked, staring deep into his eyes.

  ‘I know what I am talking about, India. I have done this many times.’

  ‘E and E?’ she asked sarcastically.

  ‘E and E,’ he confirmed.

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘but if I die, I will haunt you forever.’

  ‘That’s my girl,’ he said. ‘Now take my hand. Don’t think about it, just jump out and away from the cliff, ready?’

  ‘Ready!’ she confirmed.

  ‘After three,’ said Brandon, ‘one, two, three!’

  They both jumped out into mid-air and despite initially holding Brandon’s hand, she immediately let go and windmilled her arms frantically to stay upright. Within seconds, they both plunged into the clear forest pool and sank deep beneath the water. Brandon kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, gasping at the life-giving air above.

  He looked around frantically for India but the relief as she surfaced changed to horror as her face stayed submerged. He swam over as fast as he could and turned her face to the sky before dragging her body to the shore. Without bothering to drag her out, he started to give mouth to mouth, horrified in case she had hit a rock, but she started to cough and splutter almost immediately.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he said as her eyes opened.

  ‘Am I dead?’ she asked weakly.

  ‘Nope, just wet.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I think you landed awkwardly and winded yourself. Take a moment to catch your breath and we’ll be off. Not long now, India, I promise.’

  India didn’t answer but just stared over his shoulder.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, and turned slowly to find himself staring into the smiling face of a teenage boy.

  * * *

  When Ricardo first stepped out to face the boar, the last thing he expected to see was two human beings falling from the sky to land in the centre of the pool. The boar had run in terror and though Ricardo was momentarily shocked, he quickly came to his senses when he saw the woman was in trouble. He ran over to the pool and helped the man drag her out of the pool.

  ‘Hello?’ said Brandon. ‘Do you speak English?’

  ‘American?’ asked the boy.

  ‘Yes, American,’ he said.

  ‘You fall from plane?’ asked Ricardo.

  ‘No,’ said Brandon, ‘not fall from plane. We fall from there.’ He pointed toward the top of the cliff. ‘A bad man is chasing us. We have to run. Do you understand? Bad man has big knife, we need help. Where are your people?’

  ‘That way,’ said the boy, pointing over his shoulder. ‘Two hour’s walk.’

  ‘Great,’ said Brandon, ‘can you take us there?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ricardo, ‘my father is there. He will help you.’

  ‘Good,’ said Brandon. ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Ricardo,’ said the boy. ‘I am of the Kalinago.’

  ‘Well, Ricardo, I don’t know what that is, but we are very glad to see you.’

  Brandon turned to India.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

  ‘Brandon, I think we have a problem,’ she said.

  Brandon looked where she was staring and his heart sank. Her leg was twisted at a strange angle and it was immediately obvious, she was walking nowhere.

  ‘Shit,’ he said, ‘what happened?’

  ‘I hit the bottom,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve broken my leg.’

  He checked the swollen leg below the knee.

  ‘I think you’ve twisted it,’ he said as she gasped in pain, ‘but I don’t think anything’s broken. Do you think you can walk?’

  ‘Possibly,’ she said, ‘but I won’t be running any races any time soon.’

  ‘India, I am so sorry. I thought we would be fine.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said. ‘I didn’t land in the centre.’

  ‘Let me help you up.’

  She struggled to her feet but cried out in pain as they tried to walk.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Brandon again. ‘It won’t be long before Kosta works out where we are.’

  He left India alone for a moment and walked over to talk to Ricardo. For a few minutes, they tried to work out the best plan of action until finally they came up with a plan. He returned to India.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘we can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous. Ricardo and I will help you and we’ll make our way as fast as we can through the woods. Ricardo said there is a road not far from here and if we can reach there, we can wave down a passing truck.’

  ‘I don’t think I can make it,’ she said.

  ‘We have to, India, there’s no other option.’

  ‘OK,’ she said, ‘I’ll try.’

  A few minutes later, both men walked carefully into the woods, supporting India between them. They had not gone far when suddenly Ricardo stopped.

  ‘Wait,’ he said, ‘I have to go back.’

  ‘Why?’ said Brandon, ‘there is no time.’

  ‘I have forgotten my people’s spear,’ he said. ‘I have to go and get it.’

  ‘Ricardo, we are in great danger, we have to get out of here. You can go and get it later.’

  ‘No, it is sacred to the Kalinago and I will not be the one to lose it.’

  ‘Ricardo,’ started Brandon, but before he could say anything more, the young man had turned and run back the way they had come.

  ‘What now?’ asked India, her face filled with pain.

  Brandon looked around before snapping off a branch.

  ‘Well, we are not staying here,’ he said. ‘Here, use this as a crutch and lean on me.’

  Again they continued their flight through the trees and made good ground until finally India stumbled and fell headlong to the floor. Her knee twisted again and she screamed in agony.

  ‘India, are you OK?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘No, I’m fucking not,’ she screamed. ‘That’s it, Brandon, I’m done. I can’t go any further. Leave me here and go and bring help.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you, India,’ he answered. ‘That man is a maniac. If he finds you, he will kill you.’

  ‘We don’t have any choice,’ cried India. ‘I can’t go any further. Now go, you are wasting time. With a bit of luck, he may not come this way.’


  Despite his fears, Brandon knew she was right. If they just stayed there, eventually Kosta would find them, and there was no way Brandon could better a trained assassin. If he went now and was lucky enough to wave down a passing truck, he could be back within the hour with help.

  He looked at India. She was crying quietly, holding her twisted knee with both hands. He suddenly realised how much he thought of her, and if he allowed anything to happen to her, he would never forgive himself. He picked up the discarded crutch and banged it against a nearby tree.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked India, wiping away her tears.

  ‘I’m not leaving you, India,’ he said. ‘It’s me he wants. I’m going to go back and lead him away from here. Hopefully Ricardo will be back soon and he will get you out of here.’

  ‘Brandon, you can’t do that, he will kill you.’

  ‘I have no other option, India,’ said Brandon. ‘I am not going to let you get hurt any more. This way, at least you will get out of here.’

  ‘Brandon, no,’ said India.

  Brandon crouched down alongside her and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘India, don’t worry about me, I will be fine. Besides, I have a few tricks of my own. Now, I want you to hide yourself under that bush and keep quiet. Eventually Ricardo will return and will get you out of here.’

  ‘Brandon,’ she said.

  ‘That’s enough, India, I have to go.’ He stood up and looked down at her. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said, and without another word, turned to retrace his steps through the jungle.

  ‘I hope so, Brandon,’ she said to herself quietly.

  * * *

  Brandon walked slowly back the way he had come, his eyes constantly scanning as far as he could see in the dense forest before him. He knew Kosta couldn’t be far but if he could spot him first, he knew he just might have a chance. For ten minutes he checked the whole hillside and just as he started to think that they might have given him the slip, a terrified scream rang through the trees. He spun around in dismay as he recognised the voice.

  ‘India,’ he shouted, and with fear coursing through his body, ran as fast as he could back through the forest.

  * * *

  Brandon burst into the clearing, fearing the worst. Across the open space, Kosta was standing square on to him, waiting patiently for him to arrive. In his left hand, he held the curved kama, hanging loosely at his side. India was sprawled at the Arab’s feet.

  His hair fell ragged around his shoulders and the wound across the top of his face was black with dirt. His face was covered with dried blood and one eye was completely shut, surrounded with an ugly black swelling. His entire naked torso was covered with angry welts, caused by the countless thorny branches he had forced himself through over the last few hours and an open weeping wound across his chest oozed blood over the tattooed tugrah of Suleiman. The two men’s eyes met across the clearing and Kosta’s face broke into a hint of an evil smile.

  ‘Hello again, infidel,’ said Kosta, ‘I knew you could not resist the call of your woman. That is a weakness of all men, but particularly those of the west. You have a strange way of sacrificing yourselves to save those less fortunate than yourself. A futile policy, I feel.’

  ‘Let her go, Kosta,’ said Brandon. ‘It’s me you want, not her.’

  ‘Both will feel the cut of my blade,’ said Kosta, ‘and I will wash my shame in your still warm blood.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Brandon, thinking frantically. ‘That is stupid. She still has the information that Hundar needs. If you kill her, then Hundar will never find the treasure and your people will never be free.’

  ‘You waste your words, infidel,’ said Kosta, ‘we know the place of the gold. There is no more need for any of you to live.’

  ‘And what makes you think that we showed you the right place?’

  ‘The guide told us it was so,’ said Kosta. ‘Why would he lie?’

  ‘Because I paid him to,’ said Brandon.

  Kosta stared at him through his damaged face, trying to work out if he was lying.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said finally. ‘You had no opportunity.’

  ‘On the trail up to the Boiling Lake,’ said Brandon, ‘I paid him five hundred dollars to tell you a story, with another thousand to follow if you all believed it. That’s a lot of money around here.’

  ‘And why would you do that?’ asked Kosta.

  ‘Call it life insurance,’ said Brandon. ‘It was the only way to ensure we stayed alive.’

  ‘You lie,’ said Kosta.

  ‘It’s true,’ interrupted India. ‘The last line says exactly where the treasure is. The devil’s cup refers to an exact location, and I know exactly where it is.’

  ‘If this is true, then tell me where it is,’ said Kosta.

  ‘Not unless you promise not to kill us,’ said India. ‘Let us go and I will share the location with you.’

  ‘And what is to stop me killing you as soon as you have told me?’

  ‘Your word as a Saljik chief,’ said India. ‘You wouldn’t break that.’

  Kosta looked down at India and then back up to Brandon.

  ‘The girl is right,’ he said. ‘I would not break my word, but I am not giving it. I have a better idea. I will take the woman back to Hundar. If he thinks she lies, I will kill her. If she tells the truth, then a few moments under my knife will make her scream out the answers we require. Either way, she dies.’

  ‘And me?’ asked Brandon, already knowing the answer.

  ‘You die here,’ said Kosta, and strode across the clearing, passing his knife from hand to hand.

  ‘Nooo,’ screamed India.

  Kosta’s first swipe missed as Brandon ducked under the swing and slammed his branch into the Arab’s midriff. Although Kosta staggered back, he maintained his stance and grinned through his bloody face.

  ‘Good attempt, infidel,’ he said, ‘but ultimately futile. I have killed men better than you all of my life. But you have given me good sport these past two days, so I will even up the odds.’ He placed his knife back into his belt and opened up his arms toward Brandon.

  ‘You have your cudgel, infidel, I am unarmed and wounded, now we are even. Face me in combat, infidel. West against east, as it was in the time of our grandfathers.’

  Brandon knew there was no other option. Their only hope was if he could beat this giant of a man, and though he had been in many fights in his life, he knew that the chances of winning this one were extremely small.

  ‘OK, Kosta,’ he said, swinging the branch from side to side, ‘let’s do this. Bring it on.’

  Kosta stepped forward into range of Brandon’s cudgel. Brandon skipped to one side and raised the club high as if to strike at the man’s head, but as Kosta raised his arm to defend himself, Brandon dropped to his knees and smashed the branch toward the Arab’s knees. At the last moment Kosta saw the feint and twisted his body to one side to avoid the strike. The blow hit Kosta’s calves and though he stumbled backward again, he didn’t fall. Brandon jumped up to press home his advantage and swung a blow vertically down toward his opponent’s head, a blow that would surely crush his skull.

  Kosta saw the blow coming and caught the branch with both hands before it made contact with his head. For a moment it was stalemate before the Arab wrested the weapon from Brandon’s grip and threw it to one side. Brandon backed off but was pursued by the Arab, who managed to envelop him into a bear hug. Brandon could feel his ribs being crushed and with his last ounce of strength, smashed his forehead into the giant’s nose, spreading it across his face.

  Kosta roared in pain and released his opponent. Brandon gasped for breath, but before he could do anything, Kosta lurched toward him again.

  Brandon took an instinctive step backward and as he did, tripped over a root and fell back onto the forest floor.

  Kosta dropped to his knees, straddling Brandon’s chest and pinning his arms to the floor. He reached behind him and drew his knife,
holding it gently against Brandon’s throat. Brandon looked up into the Arab’s face, knowing that he was about to die.

  ‘Don’t kill her, Kosta,’ he said quietly, ‘I beg you, none of this is her fault.’

  ‘Too late, infidel,’ said Kosta. ‘Take these thoughts with you when you meet your god. When Hundar has finished with her, my knife will know her intimately. I will let her live for a full day, dying a little more each second, yet always knowing life and pain. She will hope for death and beg me to kill her. Eventually she will also die, but not before I have stripped her of her dignity, her humanity and her sanity, a truly awful death, infidel, a death to be proud of.’

  ‘Damn you, you bastard,’ hissed Brandon, ‘damn you to hell.’

  ‘Hell is my ultimate destination, infidel, but not before you.’

  With that, he raised the knife high above his head, ready to plunge its giant blade down through Brandon’s face. In the distance Brandon was aware that India was screaming but knew there was nothing more he could do. He closed his eyes and awaited the killing blow.

  Chapter 21

  When the expected blow didn’t come, Brandon opened his eyes and stared at the sight above him. At first he was confused. Kosta had dropped the knife and sat across Brandon’s chest with his arms hanging limply to his side. His head hung forward and his blood-smeared face stared downward.

  Brandon followed his gaze and saw the end of a blade sticking out of the Arab’s bare chest. Behind Kosta he could see the terrified figure of Ricardo, still holding the haft of his people’s ceremonial spear in both hands. He had needed every ounce of his strength to smash the old blade through the Arab’s body, for it was designed for pigs, not men.