Taking the diamond from Garcia and pocketing it for himself, the Captain led them on through the jungle to where Rodrigo, Fernando and Oskar were waiting anxiously, but it took a moment for them to see what all the excitement was about. The men stood on a small embankment, overlooking a shaded, shallow ditch.
‘I don’t get it,’ said Ash. ‘What am I looking at?’
In a low voice, Garcia replied, ‘The gold. Look at all the gold.’
Sure enough, as Ash’s eyes grew accustomed to the light, she saw that in the bottom of the ditch lay a stream of gold nuggets stretching as far, in both directions, as the eye could see.
All at once the others went running down the bank, like thirsty men towards a well, and began scooping up great handfuls of gold, laughing and cheering as they did.
VII
Night fell, and Lopez decided that rather than go back the way they had come and return to the Galgo, they would set up camp in the jungle and in the morning travel further into the island. Already they had filled several sacks with gold and various gemstones, leaving them on the path, to be picked up on their return journey. After all, it wasn’t as if there was anyone around to steal them.
Ash wondered now if there was any point in taking that stolen lizard brooch to the Condottiero. What was two thousand ducats compared to just a fraction of what they’d found so far? She was so excited by the very thought of it, she could hardly sleep, and she knew the others felt much the same way. Only Garcia, Piero and the Captain seemed not to have let excitement overcome their common sense, and all three fell asleep almost as soon as they’d put out the camp fire; the Captain snoring loud enough to jangle the gold in his pockets.
Later, when their camp had been silent for some time, Ash heard some of the men, Rodrigo, Oskar and Diego, whispering among themselves.
‘But how are we going to share it?’
‘According to rank, the Captain says. After the King’s share, that is.’
‘Even them who’s still on the boat?’
‘That’s what he says. Him getting the biggest cut, then first officer and so on.’
‘But that ain’t fair. Not if the others didn’t come over. Why should any of them get a share? What we should do, lads, is go back telling the others we found nothing more precious than a coconut.’
‘And keep it for ourselves, you mean.’
‘Exactly my meaning.’
The Captain stirred, mumbling something in his sleep, and the three of them fell silent. Presently, they too were fast asleep, leaving Ash the only one awake. She stared up through the canopy of trees at a star-speckled sky, and wondered at the series of events that had brought her here; not just these last few weeks aboard the Galgo, but the years, decades and centuries since her childhood. Those very early days were not one but many lifetimes ago, and her memory of them felt more like half-forgotten dreams.
After so much time and so many travels, it seemed right that she should find herself on the edge of the world, but looking at the sky and at the stars she wanted more. She wanted what she knew was up there.
As, finally, she began to drift off, Ash thought she heard a sound from the distant hillside, a long and piercing wail that echoed out across the island. In her half-unconscious state, she couldn’t tell if it was the howl of a wolf or a human scream.
VIII
Morning came, bringing with it a thunderstorm. No sooner had the first few drops begun to patter against the leaves than it became a riotous downpour, with raindrops as big as hazelnuts, and the ground around their camp turned instantly to mud.
Frantically, they gathered their things and took shelter beneath the largest nearby tree, waiting impatiently as the sky shook and flashed above them, until the rains began to die back down. Then they continued on their way, further into the jungle.
Ash wondered whether she should tell Garcia or the Captain about what she had overheard the night before. Maybe it was just innocent, idle chatter. Greedy men thinking greedily, without meaning a word they said. Or maybe that sort of talk could lead to mutiny, and if that were to happen, wouldn’t she then shoulder some of the blame?
After climbing steadily uphill for what felt like hours they came upon a wide plain of tall grass, the ground damp and spongy beneath their feet. To the far side of the plain stood a mound which looked at first like a boulder of sandstone, but as the sky began to clear and the first rays of sun spilled down they saw it glitter almost blindingly.
‘It looks as if it’s made of gold,’ said Garcia.
‘I believe it is,’ said Piero of Lodi. ‘The Genoese explorers who came back from these islands said there were deposits of gold more massive than any seen in Europe or even Africa. It wouldn’t surprise me if we were looking at one of them right now.’
With some difficulty, the men began to run across the plain, and that was when Ash heard it again, that strange and eerie howl she’d heard the night before.
‘Did you hear that?’ she asked.
‘Hear what?’ said Garcia.
‘A howl, or something…’
Garcia stopped walking, and cocked his ear toward the sky. Then, within a second, it came again: that same mournful howl. The physician looked at Ash and nodded.
‘I heard that,’ he said. ‘An animal of some sort. A monkey, perhaps?’
‘Is that what they sound like?’
Garcia smiled softly. ‘Wouldn’t know,’ he said. ‘Can’t say I’ve met that many of them. This is my first time out of Spain.’
They began walking again, picking up their pace to catch up with the others.
‘Seriously?’ asked Ash. ‘You’ve never left Spain?’
Garcia shook his head. ‘Never. How about you? I cannot place your accent. Where are you from?’
‘Everywhere.’
‘Elusive. No wonder you were a stowaway. Running away from something, or someone, I suppose?’
‘That would be telling. How about you?’
The colour drained from Garcia’s face, and Ash wondered if she had said the wrong thing. Then, just as suddenly as he’d paled, his expression brightened and he said, ‘Seemed like a chance to see the world.’
Eventually, they reached the glistening mound at the far end of the plain and found, just as Piero suggested, that it was made entirely of gold.
‘It can’t be real gold, though,’ said Rodrigo.
‘I assure you, it can,’ said Piero of Lodi. ‘Our Genoese explorers described not one but countless deposits just like this.’
‘Must be fool’s gold,’ said Diego.
Pushing his way past the others, Captain Lopez drew his dagger, and with a forceful slice he hacked away a sliver of the mound, which fell into the palm of his hand like a coiled spring.
‘I’ve seen enough gold in my time to know the real thing,’ he said, ‘and this is gold.’
‘But it must weigh tons,’ said Oskar.
‘We’ll never get it back to the ship,’ said Diego.
The Captain laughed. ‘No we shall not,’ he said. ‘Some of the gold will just have to stay here.’ He glanced around at his crew, studying their expressions, and smiled. ‘Look at you all,’ he said. ‘Anyone would think there wasn’t enough gold and precious stones just lying on the ground for each and every one of us to leave this island as wealthy as kings.’ He wrapped the almost threadlike sliver around his thumb, twisting its ends to make a ring of it, and peered off into the distance. ‘I think I see something,’ he said, gesturing for Garcia to join him. ‘There. Do you see? Looks almost like a…’
‘… Temple,’ said Garcia, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own eyes.
Ash raised her hand to her brow and squinted. They were right. There, on the distant hillside, stood a flight of steps, three stone columns and the remnants of a pediment.
Lopez’s one good eye flashed with an idea, and he beamed. ‘You know what this place might be?’
Garcia shrugged.
‘Gentlemen… and lady. I believe we may
have found the Garden of Eden.’
Ash frowned and Garcia stifled a laugh. The others seemed less sceptical.
‘Think about it,’ said Lopez. ‘An earthly paradise, far beyond the world…’
‘But Eden?’ said Garcia.
‘Come,’ said Lopez, already marching off across the plain. ‘There’s only one way for us to find out.’
The others began to follow, Ash and Garcia trailing behind by a few yards.
‘This isn’t Eden, though, is it?’ said Ash.
‘No it is not,’ said Garcia. ‘But that temple… It looks Greek, or perhaps Roman…’
‘Our Genoese explorers described such structures,’ said Piero, who had clearly been eavesdropping. ‘They thought perhaps they were the remnants of a colony, founded by the Trojan diaspora. An acquaintance of Brutus or Aeneas…’
‘I think,’ said Garcia, ‘that’s even less likely than this being the Garden of Eden.’
They were halfway between the mound of gold and the temple when Ash heard another distant shriek or howl. This time the others heard it too, and they stopped in their tracks.
‘What was that?’ said Rodrigo.
‘Local fauna of some kind,’ said Lopez. ‘A Barbary ape, perhaps. Nothing to worry about.’
‘I’ve heard the Barbary apes of Gibraltar,’ said Bartolome. ‘And that didn’t sound like no Barbary ape.’
‘A jackal then,’ said the Captain. ‘Or some distant cousin of the wolf.’
Another howl rang out across the hills, echoing through the nearby valleys. Then another, and another, each coming from a different direction.
‘I don’t like this,’ said Garcia.
‘Me neither,’ said Ash. ‘Whatever’s making that sound has us surrounded.’
Suddenly, something came whistling through the air towards them, zipping past Ash’s ear, followed quickly by a wet thud, and Oskar the carpenter fell to the ground with an arrow in his back. Three more arrows followed, in quick succession, one burying itself in a tree, the other two finding their marks in Fernando and Pedro the Steward.
‘Run for cover!’ cried the Captain, and he led them into a dense thicket.
More and more arrows came after them, but none of them were hit. Then, turning on Piero of Lodi, Captain Lopez grabbed the Italian by his collar and began shaking him.
‘You said nothing of tribesmen!’ he growled. ‘Did your Genoese explorers not think to mention that?’
Piero shook his head. ‘They said the islands were uninhabited,’ he whimpered. ‘They said there were no people here.’
From the edge of the thicket, Ash gestured to the Captain and Garcia, beckoning them over.
‘I don’t think they’re people,’ she said, and joining her the two men followed her gaze and saw, up on the hillside, the archers who had fired on them; tall, muscular creatures with the bodies of men but the faces of fang-toothed wild dogs.
IX
‘All right,’ said Lopez. ‘We don’t have bows and arrows, so there’s only one thing we can do, and that’s split up.’
‘Is that wise?’ asked Garcia. ‘Is there not greater safety in numbers?’
Ash shook her head. ‘The Captain’s right. They have the higher ground. We’d be like sitting ducks.’
Lopez smiled at her. ‘We ought to start calling you Joan of Arc,’ he said.
‘Very well,’ said Garcia. ‘We split up. Then what?’
‘We make our way to the beach, and row back to the Galgo,’ said the Captain.
‘But what about the gold and the jewels?’ asked Rodrigo.
Lopez flashed him a scowl and shook his head. ‘We pick up what we can along the way,’ he said. ‘But not so much that it slows us down. Whoever makes it to the beach waits no later than vespers, and if they find themselves faced with those… those things… they return to the Galgo regardless. Agreed?’
Everyone nodded.
‘But what are they?’ said Diego, who had been a greenish shade of white since the first onslaught.
All eyes turned on Piero of Lodi.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ said the Italian. ‘Our explorers didn’t encounter them, so perhaps they are not of this island. The physician here is a man of science. Do you know what they are?’
Garcia shook his head. ‘Perhaps some species undiscovered,’ he said.
‘Or men bewitched,’ said Bartolome. ‘Like the sailors turned to pigs by Circe.’
‘It doesn’t matter what they are,’ said the Captain. ‘What matters is that we make it off this island alive. Now. I’ll take Piero, here. Dr Garcia, you go with Ash. Diego, Rodrigo, Bartolome… you three stay together.’
He gestured out towards the open plain.
‘Piero and I will go left, into that gully. Garcia, Ash, you go back into the jungle. And you three… Follow that stream. Each way should take us back to the beach, but keep us covered.’
‘Aye, Captain.’
‘And as I said. Don’t go slowing yourselves down with trinkets. Understood?’
‘Aye, Captain.’
‘Then let’s go.’
Later, Ash would remember very little of how she and Garcia got back to the jungle. She would recall only the sounds of her feet squelching into the wet ground and her pulse, thundering in her ears. She remembered that her breath tasted coppery, like blood, from running so hard. She remembered looking across the plain and seeing, in the far distance, Bartolome cut down by an arrow to the chest. Everything else was a blur.
When, finally, she and Garcia were in the jungle they heard the canine creatures howling from the hillsides, and the last shower of arrows whistling through the air, thumping into the trunks of nearby trees or clattering to earth. Garcia collapsed onto his knees, breathless and shaking, and Ash saw tears forming in his eyes.
‘We can’t stay here,’ she said. ‘It isn’t safe.’
She helped the physician to his feet, and together they walked deeper into the jungle. Ash had hoped they would find the path they’d made, that they would recognise some feature of their surroundings, but it wasn’t to be. Every tree looked almost identical to the last, every bump or ditch had a twin or triplet every fifty yards, and when a fresh blanket of clouds passed across the sun it became impossible to tell which way was north or south.
They walked for several hours, but seemed no closer to the beach, and so decided to rest a while in a small clearing. It was some time since they’d last heard the monsters’ howls. They might be safe here, for now. That said, they were running out of water. Ash’s flask was empty, and Garcia’s was down to its last drops.
As Ash rested with her back against a tree, Garcia went down on his knees and began muttering words she did not catch. When he was finished, she asked him, ‘What were you saying?’
‘I was asking God to deliver us from this place.’ He stood, brushing the dirt and twigs from his knees, and took in a deep breath. ‘But we should keep going,’ he said. ‘Or else we’ll miss our boat.’
X
At first, they thought the dog-faced creatures had killed them, Diego and Rodrigo. The two men lay next to a stream, both dead, and it took a moment before Ash realised that they had, in fact, killed one another, each man still holding a bloodied dagger in his death-frozen hand.
‘But why?’ asked Garcia. ‘When we have so many other enemies on this island, why turn on each other like that?’
Ash pointed to the ground around their bodies, which was scattered with nuggets of gold and uncut gemstones. ‘Does that answer your question?’
‘Greed, then,’ said Garcia. ‘The fools.’
What made it even more frustrating was that Diego and Rodrigo had chosen to have their duel within earshot of the beach. From where they now stood, Ash and Garcia could hear seagulls and waves brushing against the sand, and through the trees they saw a stark crescent of white against the sapphire sea.
But there was no time to bury the dead or mourn them. Already, the day was getting old, and the hour when Ca
ptain Lopez said any survivor should leave had long passed. Ash and Garcia ran the rest of the way, across the fringes of the jungle and down onto the beach, but though their ship was still anchored a mile out to sea, both of the rowing boats were gone, and the Galgo itself was too far away for them to signal anyone on board.
‘They left us,’ said Ash. ‘I can’t believe they just left us.’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ said Garcia. ‘Why would the Captain and Piero take two boats? And why, if they’ve left, hasn’t the Galgo set sail?’
Ash had to concede the physician was right, but it was getting dark, and though they’d filled their flasks at a freshwater stream, both of them were hungry. Together, they went back to the jungle, and began gathering wood to make a fire, and it was there Ash spotted a plump, fuzzy-feathered hen, pecking its way through the undergrowth. Realising it might make a satisfactory meal, she stalked after it as silently as she could, her dagger gripped between her teeth. Then, when the moment was right, she pounced.
Ash wasn’t squeamish, she was more than prepared for the sight of blood, especially after the day they’d had. Having plunged her dagger into the hen, she was not, however, prepared for a shower of sparks and the smell of smoke.
Beneath the hen’s feathers lay not flesh and blood, but cogs and coiled springs and strangely intricate panels attached to one another with brightly coloured veins. The creature’s skeleton was made not of bone but metal. She returned to the beach, where Garcia had begun building their fire, holding the feathered automaton in both hands, and she dropped it to the ground next to the pile of wood.
‘What is that?’ asked Garcia, gazing down in horror at the exposed workings inside.
‘It’s a machine,’ said Ash. ‘I killed it, thinking we could have it for supper. But it’s a machine.’
From the stacked firewood, Garcia took a piece of kindling and prodded at the hen, and all at once it came alive and began kicking its legs, the machinery inside whirring and ticking away like the workings of a clock. Then, just as suddenly as it had revived, it stopped.
Doctor Who: The Legends of Ashildr Page 6
