by Jacob Nelson
Caribo translated and Kit mentally prepared his next line as the old man embellished the first.
“Now tell them that they are blessed for passing this test that was given them. They are blessed for believing they had a Carib and allowing the man to be free. Explain that you are only in the form of the Carib for the test, and to do you no more harm, but to treat us as they would like to be treated.”
Caribo again translated and the old man’s smile openly broke forth as he realized that the test was for him and he had gained favor with God through passing such a grand test.
“Finally tell them that we will take on the forms of men, allowing ourselves to be as men, and that if any man designs evil against us they will drop dead through lightning and thunder.”
Caribo smiled broadly at this and dutifully translated.
As the old high priest finished, Kit had him dismiss the crowds. Then asking the old man for assistance they were led to their new furnishings, being given the best in room and board.
There was no way of knowing that fate had designed more for them at that time. For as they were gathering the will of the people in their favor, a group of Aztec were approaching the city, in hopes of acquiring slaves and sacrifices, as well as wealth and power.
The next day found Kit and Caribo well rested and well fed. Their garments had been removed and cleaned, and new garments had been laid out for them. As Kit pulled on the wrap around kilt of the Maya, he laughed to himself and thought of what his father Bartholomew would say.
His weapons were left untouched. In fact everything was left exactly as they left them, with the addition of fresh fruits and meats that were delivered for their enjoyment.
As they were dressing, a shout went out through the city: “Aztecs!”
The old priest hurried to their quarters. “I do not know in what manner that we have offended you, unless you are still unforgiving of the test, but I beg of you to have mercy upon us; this our city, our sons, and our daughters.”
Kit realized that through their act they had placed themselves into this awkward position. He quietly said to Caribo, “Looks like we have to help them or they’ll think we’re frauds and we’ll be killed. I suspect that we will have better chances with the enemy. What do you say?”
Caribo sighed. Gathering up the weapons, he handed Kit his espadas and pistols while he donned his own club, jade knife, bow, and arrows. “I will tell him to take us to the enemy.”
As the three of them walked down the central plaza towards the main gates where the Maya were attempting to keep out the oncoming hoards of the Aztec enemy, the whole of the city hushed and, like Moses at the Red Sea, parted to allow them to pass, their faces turning from hopelessness to hope itself. As they approached the gate, Kit prepared his pistols.
This immediate difference in behavior among the Maya caused the enemy Aztec to stop, leaving them bewildered as to the change in the multitude. The Aztec knew something was going to happen but they could not have even guessed as to what it was.
As the main stone door to the city was dragged aside, there in the doorframe stood next to the Maya high priest what appeared to be a Carib and a pale man.
The Aztec viewed them with scorn. The old man spoke up quickly before the Aztec warrior could say anything.
“This is an Angel of God incarnate before you,” he said indicating towards Kit. “If you do not leave he will strike you dead.”
Caribo hastily translated to Kit.
The Aztec warrior realized that the other was translating. “If he is as powerful as you say, then why does he need a translator,” he replied to the old man. Then as to show his indifference, he spat on Kit. “Do your best white child,” he taunted.
To Kit the answer was obvious. This man meant business. He needed to die.
Even as the spittle struck Kit’s boots, he had raised his pistol and fired it. The man’s face showed surprise as he looked down at his chest, the pain reaching him about the same time the thunder of the pistol reached his ears. Frothing at the mouth, blood surged forth as he coughed and dropped over on to his side. He landed in a heap and the momentum rolled him on to his back; dead.
No hand had touched him. There was no weapon protruding from the hole in his chest. He was simply dead.
Fear alighted on the faces of the warriors that surrounded him, and they panicked, trying to get as far away from the destroying angel as they could. Stumbling over one another, they ran, not daring to even look back; leaving their dead warrior chief at the gate of the Maya city.
Kit meanwhile had walked forward to examine the body. Careful to keep a distance in case the fellow wasn’t quite dead, he took out both swords and held them crossed together in the form of a scissor over the man’s neck.
While he thus protected himself from the body, Caribo searched the man for any weapons, drawing them off of him. Clearly, the man was dead.
As Caribo stepped away from the body, Kit looked up to see that a large crowd had formed behind him. Smiling, he turned and raising his swords above his head he crossed them again, to show they had nothing to fear.
A great cheer went forth from the people. The angel incarnate had protected them. He had struck the evil man dead and returned to them, giving them what they interpreted as the angel’s sign of protection.
Kit and Caribo had won them over.
That night a great ceremony was held for Kit and Caribo. Seated together at the place of honor, they were presented with the story of Popul Vuh, which contains their story of the creation as told by the Mayas. Kit found the story much like the European version of creation, except that instead of an apple tree, they used a cacao tree.
The actors did an excellent job portraying their representation of the creation, and Kit felt that the whispering translation provided by Caribo was monumentally unnecessary.
In their version of the rest of the myth, immortal ball-playing twins were beheaded by the gods of death. One had his head hung on a cacao tree. The magical head managed to mate with a woman who later became the mother of twin gods. Those two twin gods defeat the gods of death and then end up in the sky as the sun and the moon.
“They believe we are the representations of those two, Kit,” Caribo said intuitively.
Kit chuckled to himself. “I wonder which one of us is which,” he sarcastically whispered back. “After all, we’re supposed to be twins.”
“I suspect they believe you are the sun, being the palest, while I am the moon, in representation of the dark,” responded Caribo.
“We need to work on your understanding of sarcasm,” responded Kit.
“What…” started Caribo, but he lost his train of thought as they were interrupted by the old high priest as he presented Caribo with a large mug of frothy something.
The drink was the drink of the gods, of the cacao tree, brought to earth as a remembrance of the deeds of the Gods. It was made up of coarsely ground paste of cacao beans… mixed with spices, water and chilies. Kit shortly was presented with the same drink.
The whole of the stadium waited expectantly as they watched Kit and Caribo.
Kit looked around and said to Caribo, “Well, let’s make it look good. Drink up my friend…”
Together as one, they took a long swallow of that spicy, yet bittersweet, cold and frothy drink. The foam traced a moustache across Caribo’s upper lip.
A loud cheer echoed forth. The drink left a decided aftertaste that Caribo wasn’t particularly fond of, but Kit could stomach it.
However, the ceremony wasn’t over.
Two artisans immediately came forward as Kit and Caribo emptied their drinking mugs. As others whisked the mugs away and they turned them upside down to show that they were indeed drunk, the artisans moved in; presenting them with gifts:
For Caribo he found two wrist protectors made of fine metal and inlaid with gold and stones, designed to be worn in battle or ceremony. Caribo was delighted with them.
For Kit, the gifts were decidedly smaller
… yet of more intrinsic value. Two rings.
Each ring consisted of two bands fused together into one, made of different material. The inner band was a closed band made of a special mixture of gold and other metals that allowed it to be sized to the wearer. The outer band was designed to stay somewhat open and made of indestructible metal that fell from the heavens. The face of each ring was made of that same heavenly material: a meteorite.
The one was in the shape of a skull; intended, as the high priest declared to the onlookers, “to cause fear in the hearts of your enemies”.
The other in the shape of Kit’s crossed espada roperas, the fore-runners of the rapier, “as your sign of protection to be given to those you bestow it upon”.
Kit slipped the death’s head ring onto the ring finger of his right hand; and then onto the ring finger of the left hand he placed the other.
The crowd erupted in joy once again, and the whole of the place celebrated long into the night.
Chapter 5
The following day Kit and Caribo decided it was time to leave. They made their wish known to the high priest who insisted that they stay. The high priest made it very clear that the city was theirs to do with as they desired, but in the end they convinced him that their desire was to leave. The old man eventually gave in, seeing that he could not dissuade them, and made arrangements to supply them with everything they may need on their journey.
As Kit and Caribo finally left the walls of the city they saw that a new carving had been placed there at the gates, in reverence to them: that of crossed swords, the sign of their protection.
“I’m going to miss that city,” stated Kit as they launched their craft into the waters of the Caribbean.
“As will I, my friend,” agreed Caribo, “providing that I am not trussed up for sacrifice again,” he added.
Kit laughed as he grabbed up his paddle. “True,” he agreed. “I prefer you alive than trussed up …and cut up.” Smiling at his friend’s discomfort with the conversation, he placed the end of his paddle into the water.
They continued with their heavily laden craft up the coastline. They noticed that the land was shifting, indicating that they were sailing around some sort of peninsula. The land began to slope south of them as they traveled west. Then the coast started to drift away, sloping northward, and they turned their craft to follow the shore. They passed several coastal cities, but they had been told the Golden City was inland, set on a large lake. So they passed by the cities, without so much as a look back.
When the land was once again west of them, they started looking for the river that would bring them to the City of Gold. Despite Caribo’s reservations of finding it, Kit was determined to search out the city so that his uncle could visit it upon his return. “Besides,” he told Caribo, “we don’t need to enter the city… I just want to view it from afar.”
Not one to turn down adventure, even though the result may be death on entering the city, Caribo agreed.
Not too soon thereafter, as they traveled up a smaller river that seemed to generally head west, they came across a smaller, less ornate city than that of the Maya. This city was made mostly of wood huts; rather than of stone. The only building of any substance was a small pyramid, covered in silver and jade. It stood in the center of the village.
The city itself was not visible from the river and would never have been seen by the two of them had it not been for the pyramid. Thus thanks to the dense foliage and the curvature and rolling beauty of the terrain they were able to get quite close without being seen.
Being forewarned by the Maya of more northern Aztec tribes, they were leery of making themselves known.
Kit and Caribo decided to wait until nightfall before continuing on their journey. As they had found a nearby cave to spend the night in on the riverbank, that they were able to drag the canoe into, they decided that they would spend some time first spying upon the small city’s inhabitants that flourished nearby.
That night in the small Aztec city there was a great ceremony. Fires were lit all around the village, and a large bonfire was burning at the top of the small pyramid. Before the temple was a large stone slab, with a stone bowl at its base. From their vista the view was incredible.
It was Caribo who noticed the prisoners first. One man and one girl. The man was beaten and appeared to be a prisoner of war. The girl looked to be drugged, but otherwise unharmed.
He pointed them out silently to Kit, who nodded to Caribo to show that he had seen them too.
Turning to whisper in the other’s ear, Kit said, “Let’s break them free if we can.”
Caribo disagreed. “We should leave them be,” Caribo told Kit. “The Aztec are evil men. This will end badly for us. It will be our blood that will be spilt,” he warned him, remembering his own near-sacrifice.
However, Kit was not willing to leave any prisoners with a group that enjoyed the spilling of blood. Caribo attempted again to sway Kit’s mind, reminding him that the natives know the land and would surely catch them no matter how well the canoe was hidden… but in the end he could not sway Kit in the slightest.
Caribo finally agreed to wait and see what would happen. However, he would not consign himself to help aside from staying as lookout.
While Kit worked on an escape plan to help the prisoners, below them a wooden drum reverberated the air. Firelight cast eerie shadows as dancers swayed faster and faster.
As quickly as they began, the drums stopped. Within the ominous silence, two guards pushed past the dancers and grabbed the beaten man. They cut the cords that bound him to the waiting pole, but not the cords around his wrists.
They forcibly dragged him to the table while a third caught one of his legs. He tried to get out, twisting this way and that, kicking with the free leg, but eventually he was tied into place, his back against the cold stone slab, his eyes wide with fear.
A grandly feathered figure approached him, wearing a mask upon his head that resembled a large cat of some kind. Then chanting something that Kit and Caribo couldn’t make out, he unsheathed a large jade knife. The chanting was taken up by the rest of the tribe and soon the noise escalated until the sounds of the jungle were drowned out.
“It is too late for him,” Caribo pointed out. “We should leave,” he smoothly restated.
Kit ignored his remark. Instead, he supplanted his own, “Ok. I’m going to get her,” he said to Caribo.
Caribo caught hold of his shoulder as Kit started to stand. “Think about it Kit. This can only end in heart-ache and death,” Caribo tried to reason.
“That it may, old friend. But not for myself. I know though that if I do nothing, that girl,” as he pointed to the girl below, “will die. And I will always have the guilt of knowing that I could have done something and did not.”
Caribo let go, nodding his head. He knew that there was no stopping Kit. In the end, he clapped Kit’s shoulder and simply said, “I will be waiting here for your return, my friend.”
Kit understood.
While Caribo watched, Kit disappeared into the darkness.
The tribe was enthralled with the ritual that was going on before them; so much so that they paid no attention to the drugged girl. It was easy enough for Kit to get close to her.
As Kit approached, his focus was diverted from the ritual and the guards to her perfect silhouette. He sucked in a lungful of air that he held as he beheld her. The light shone on her figure, and suggested a beautiful form, one that excited him in a way that he never knew anything could. But the form was only a silhouette; the flickering fire light hid her in shadow with her back to Kit.
Kit quickly stole to her side, worrying that he was making too much noise; worrying that at any moment he would be discovered. The reality was that any sound of his approach was drowned out by the chanting from the natives; he needn’t have been concerned.
The two guards that were guarding her had stepped in front of her to better see the ritual that was transpiring on the altar ston
e in front of them. The opening left Kit with a few seconds to make his move. He silently pulled out his espada.
Like the silent footfalls of a cat seeking out its prey, Kit advanced. He slid forward and before the girl even realized he was behind her, clamped his hand over her mouth, pulling her toward him.
Her eyes widened as she saw the pale man at her side. Her heart began to beat wildly as she saw what she perceived to be the most handsome and gorgeous man-creature imaginable… one that left her previous ideals far behind. Yet there was only one reason someone would be there to save her… he must have been sent from her father. Her imagination flew with the beating of her heart.
What she was thinking didn’t matter nor register to Kit at that moment. He was too occupied with the task at hand. Using his espada as a knife, he quickly sliced the bands that held her. Then as he reached down to help her up, to Kit’s annoyance, she fainted.
The girl’s sleeping body rolled over and Kit froze where he knelt. The moment, like the sound of his arrival passed unnoticed to the throng as they focused their full attention on the sacrifice before them.
Looking around he relaxed and brought his attention once more to the prostrate form lying at his feet. Despite the failed light, the shadows, and the obvious air of gloom that hovered around them, Kit was mesmerized.
She was beautiful, almost angelic in her looks. The dark hair, the olive skin, the long lashes that outlined the large eyes all were in perfect balance to each other.
It took him a moment to compose himself, a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity, and then quickly to Caribo’s relief, while he watched the affair from above, Kit lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder as he backed back down the path into the edge of the jungle.
The darkness surrounded him as he struggled with his load, not wanting to lose speed yet having to compromise with the weight of the inert form and the lack of visible light. Off into the darkness he continued until he passed the path that he had descended.
