The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation
Page 58
Tense feelings of anticipation were building again, causing blood to thump extra quickly through her already rapidly beating heart. Seeing nothing but darkness below, she edged her way round further, hoping for a better view. Switching on her torch, she noticed evidence of metal bars blocking the way.
Looking more closely, she could see that some of the bars had been cut away while others were badly rusted.
Chris remained on the opposite side, inviting her closer. “Come on, it’s flatter here.”
Carefully, she made her way towards him, using the nearby flat surfaces to support herself. Chris was standing with his right hand clutching tightly to the rock, his left outstretched, ready to hold her. He smiled at her reassuringly as she approached, anticipating contact.
Inching her way forward, she stretched out with her left hand, feeling contact with his. As she took another step, she felt her left foot go from underneath her, her body giving way to friction. Her head crashed forwards into Chris’s stomach, forcing him off balance. She saw him stumble, first to the left and then backwards.
And over the side of the cliff.
*
Ben checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes as Cortés spoke fluently in Spanish into the microphone of his headset. He deduced from the unfamiliar dialect that Cortés had officially been granted permission to land.
“How much further?” Ben asked the second the conversation came to an end.
“The mountain is close.” He pointed ahead into the clear blue yonder. “The castle is a protected monument, so we cannot land there. We shall have to use a field nearby.”
“How faraway is close?”
“Easier than a walk with your dog.”
Ben smiled, satisfied there would be no arduous trek to aggravate the problems with his injured leg. After his experience in Valladolid, the last thing he felt like doing was climbing a mountain.
The scenery ahead was spectacular. Various shapes were beginning to materialise in the distance, the most obvious the heavy grey silhouettes of mountains against a perfect blue backdrop. If Cortés was correct, the castle would be situated on a hilltop in the shadow of the mountains.
Eduardo’s electronic tablet confirmed Valeria was there already, separated from the car.
Which surely meant Chris would be too.
42
Chris knew he was in trouble as soon as Valeria lost her footing. In the seconds that followed, he felt his legs go, his head spin, pictures moving across his vision like a film projector gone wild.
He reached out instinctively for anything he could lay his hands on and felt the hard surface of jagged rocks burn briskly against his body. He clenched his palms together tightly and, in desperation, closed his eyes. He felt a far heavier impact against his torso before sliding slowly on his front. He could feel himself moving slowly from side to side, his legs dangling.
But no longer falling.
He opened his eyes and realised he was hanging from some kind of rocky ledge, one of many that was projecting almost horizontally out from the hillside. The world around him was spinning, though more slowly than it had been moments earlier. A sudden onset of nausea came and went almost immediately. His vision was focused, his view alternating between the grey face of the rock and the vast horizon. He took a deep breath and blinked rapidly at his surroundings.
He reminded himself that the worst mistake he could possibly make was to look down.
*
Valeria was trembling. Her slip-up had caused her to hit Chris hard, forcing him off balance. Standing on the bare rock was like standing on ice without ice skates.
Maintaining her balance had been simply impossible.
She hadn’t heard a sound since watching him disappear, be it Chris’s voice or the heavy impact of a crash. The lack of noise gave her slim hope that if she just managed to pluck up the courage to look over the side, she would see him clinging on to dear life on a rock or tree branch somewhere below. She felt the wind was picking up slightly, creating a soft whistling noise as it entered the gaps between the rocks.
She knew that a fall all the way to the bottom from that height would surely be too great to survive.
And that if he was still alive, every second counted.
Approaching the edge, she called his name.
*
Chris heard Valeria’s voice calling him from above, a worried echo on the wind. Looking up, he was unable to see her because of the overhang of several layers of rock above.
“Chris.”
He tried to reply, but the words refused to come, the sounds instead sticking in his gullet. His chest was tight, his lips suddenly dry, his throat tickly from inhaling falling dust. Hanging at such a high altitude was starting to play havoc with his vision again; his eyes watered from a combination of the wind and being in the path of falling rubble.
“Chris.”
“Don’t come any closer.” He looked up longingly at the steep incline and bit his lip. Tightening his grip on the rock with his thighs and trainers, he attempted to inch his way further along in the hope that he might be able to gain a foothold and climb to safety. Centimetre by centimetre, he was making progress, but he knew making it all the way would be a tall order. His hands were hurting, blood spreading across his palms and fingers.
Cuts, blisters and gravity were tough foes to conquer.
He considered the alternative and asked, “How far am I to the ground?”
Valeria looked again over the ledge, her jaw locked in a tight grimace. “I cannot say.”
“Is it too far to jump?”
“Chris!”
The urgency of her cry provided him a definite answer. Not daring to look down, he thrust his hands along the hard surface and pulled with all his might. Little by little he felt his body rise. Sweat fell like rain from his forehead, drenching his T-shirt that was sticking uncomfortably to his back. His hands were becoming sticky, his grip failing.
“Chris, hold on.”
He bit his lip and did his best, closing his eyes in a desperate bid not to look down. As he felt himself spinning again, curiosity got the better of him.
He knew instantly he had made a grave error.
*
Valeria encouraged herself to inch her way slowly as far as the edge and took a deep breath before looking down. She feared that even a soft gust of wind would take her over, that a normally pleasant breeze could have dire consequences as it brushed lightly against her legs.
Chris had managed to struggle his way upwards, but over fifteen metres still separated him from the cliff top. He was too far away to pull in, not that she was capable of supporting his weight. She knew any attempt at a rescue would put both of their lives in danger. Chris was at least seventy pounds heavier than her, even without allowing for muscle density. The man had served in the navy, played football at college.
He could snap her like a twig.
Taking off her backpack, she unzipped the main strap and removed the climbing gear she had retrieved from the house in Roturas. Buckling herself up rapidly with a safety harness, she banged a series of metal pins into the nearest rocks.
Securely fastened, she retraced her steps to the edge.
*
Chris thought the ledge had come loose. He felt himself move sharply from left to right as though an unseen force was pulling him.
He closed his eyes and tightened his grip instinctively, praying it would hold. Realising he still wasn’t falling, he opened them again and stared to his left in disbelief.
“Valeria?”
*
She fell far quicker than she had anticipated. Concerned for Chris’s safety, she had neglected to pay gravity its deserved respect.
She was grateful to her own fast reactions that she was able to stop in time.
She felt her footing go the second she reached the edge. As she took the plunge, she experienced a sharp loss of balance and her lungs suddenly expelled. By the time she came to a complete stop,
she was breathless, every cell in her body flooded with adrenaline.
She gazed at Chris, estimating the gap between them to be less than a metre. She heard him say her name, clearly shocked.
She loosened the thread on the harness, stopping almost directly alongside him. “Don’t talk. Just hold on.”
Chris knew they only had one chance of getting it right. The harness wasn’t designed for two people, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t support their joint weight. He couldn’t vouch for the security of the pins above, only that they had to chance it.
It was far too late for an alternative plan.
He felt their bodies sway in an anticlockwise motion, forcing him to close his eyes to combat returning feelings of sickness. He reopened them and saw Valeria’s face staring back at him. She studied him for a fraction of a second before wrapping her legs in a death grip around his waist.
Despite the breeze, he felt far warmer as her body moved feverishly against his, her hot breath soothing on his neck. He felt his skin tingle as her hair moved against his cheeks and ears, creating a desirous urge to rub against her jacket for friction.
Again he felt the cliff face coming into contact with his back, aware that, any second, jagged rock could cut through his skin. He felt the harness swing in the opposite direction, moving like a pendulum. As it swung back a second time, he found his body turning towards the rock face again, the soles of his feet coming into contact with the surface. With each kick, he felt the momentum build.
He called her name again.
“Shhh,” she replied. “I need you to help pull us up.”
*
Eduardo studied the screen, confused by what he saw. Looking over his shoulder, Ben noticed.
“What is it?”
The young Spaniard shook his head. The blue dots were still flashing, the second curiously close to the mountainside.
“Eduardo?” Cortés barked from behind the controls.
“I don’t understand. A second ago, they were on the hilltop. Now it’s showing them over the side.”
Ben raised an eyebrow, equally confused. “Let me see.”
He took the tablet from Eduardo and studied the screen carefully. The capabilities of the device were phenomenal. Although it didn’t provide actual satellite footage, the inbuilt GPS captured Valeria’s position to the nearest metre. The flashing dots confirmed they had made it to the hamlet, the car parked among local buildings. The second was somewhere between the church and the castle.
Based on the 2D map, they were either walking around in circles or floating in mid-air.
“How long until we arrive?”
Cortés replied, “The hillside will be visible in moments.”
*
Valeria felt a surge of adrenaline as she saw the top getting nearer. It was as if the gods of the Aztec world had personally intervened, an invisible force guiding them back towards the summit. With Chris’s legs tightly interlocked with her own, there was little chance of them becoming separated unless they deliberately let go. The only problem was the actual climb. The harness favoured the person strapped in, but she couldn’t lift without his help.
“One, two, three.” Chris tugged hard at the rope, straining himself to the utmost. With each swing, they rose a further foot. As the count ended, they both pulled in tandem, Valeria directing as their feet came into contact with the rock.
They were now only two metres away.
“One, two, three.”
They pulled.
“One, two, three.”
Chris’s face had turned bright red.
“One, two, three.”
Valeria held out her left hand and exhaled gratefully as she grabbed hold of something solid. The rock was sharp; jagged edges ripped against her palm. Under the circumstances, she no longer minded the sight of fresh blood. She pulled herself forward until she was sure they were no longer in any danger.
Chris’s legs slowly came free; his arms clung desperately to the sister rock as he inhaled the clean air. His face slowly returned to its normal colour as his lungs took in precious air.
He looked at her, relief spreading throughout his body.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
Valeria rose to her feet and detached herself from the harness. She looked down at him and smiled.
“Just remember who saved you.”
She offered him her hand and he took it, rising to his feet and stepping away from the edge.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then let us continue!”
43
The eighth day of our journey into the grasslands, though in many ways little different to the seven that preceded it, save our views of the landscape, will forever remain memorable to me thanks to our being greatly treated to the sight of the ancient cork forests that surrounded the great mountains to the south. On making our way through the great woodland, known in the local tongue as a dehesa, we took lodgings in a small hamlet built into the hillside where once upon a time a mighty castle had overlooked the landscape.
On arranging our stay in local homesteads, the generosity of the locals showing no bounds, as seemingly every family in the locality came to pay their respects to our party, which now numbered twelve, and offer us use of their comfortable dwellings, we made ourselves at home in our new surroundings; after three days spent in the wilderness, I must confess I had never been so grateful for the promise of a warm bed. On examining the quaint settlement, whose romantic charm made its way instantly into the depths of my heart, I found myself intrigued by its many peculiarities, among them a graveyard that offered easy access to the mountain pass. The area is both strange and delightful; as evening fell, it became the home to many birds, their appearances unlike any I had seen on our trip so far, but had read about, both recently and in the distant past, in the encyclopaedias I have left behind; I already have it on good authority among the ornithologists of the party that such breeds are among both the finest and rarest to be seen in these parts.
Having enjoyed my evening meal, I was pleased to see the evening light remained sufficient for a preliminary perusal of the sights, the like of which I realised I was unlikely to gain the opportunity to explore again, at least in this present party. From the summit the views are spectacular. Though the air is both warm and dusty, and many a distant field dry, there was something familiar about the setting, which made me wonder whether I had, in fact, visited it once before, perhaps in a dream. Below the mountain, the river runs fast before meandering snakelike through dense woodlands that are among the greenest I have ever witnessed, despite the lack of rain. Below the pass, not a sound was audible; on contemplating the matter closely, I now recall that throughout that evening not a song was sung nor a church bell chimed. It was as if the very houses in the village existed in a timeless vacuum, unchanged since the days of the explorers who walked the pass in the distant past . . .
The mountains were visible twenty miles away. A series of small peaks rose skyward along the horizon like chimney tops, casting dramatic shadows across the passes. The settlements below were like ghost towns, their buildings a throwback to a simpler time.
Juan had warned Ben that they were unlikely to receive any warm welcomes in the hamlet itself. The people were good folk, but naturally suspicious of outsiders. Should an enthusiastic birdwatcher come looking for rare species, they would receive a greeting of polite courtesy, particularly in return for a good price. If the same person never came back, no one would lose any sleep because of it. It was a place in which little ever changed, where visitors, though themselves few, had always outnumbered the residents.
The next bus would be arriving in a week.
Ben saw the castle in the distance as the helicopter came in from the north. A large square tower cast a deep shadow over the nearby rocks that reflected a unique purple colour in the afternoon sunlight.
Immediately his mind drew parallels with the stone he had seen in the mine.
The one thing the device didn’t confirm was their altitude.
There was no sign of life close to the castle. The tower roof had disappeared long ago; its emptiness reminded him of the pumping house station he had seen at Godolphin. It was a structure of lost purpose; on any other day, he would have found it fascinating.
There was a small graveyard in the south part of the hamlet; Ben realised they would need to enter it in order to cross the mountain ridge. The pathway that led up to the castle was located on the east side and looked to be a gentle walk.
He was grateful the climb would be over quickly.
The hamlet itself consisted of a few small roads, all of which ran from north-west to south-east across the hillside. From directly above, the orange and red shades of the rooftops of the buildings stood out like traffic beacons from the largely unspoiled and natural surroundings nearby. There was a stone courtyard within a hundred metres of the church, surrounded by a few quaint, secluded buildings. A small car park contained a handful of vehicles. Ben noticed a maroon four-by-four parked alone.
“That theirs?” he asked Eduardo.
The young Spaniard nodded. “Yes. That’s definitely the car I tailed from Medellín.”
*
They landed south of the hamlet in an open field on the edge of the dehesa. Cortés’s intention had been to land on the east side of the castle hill, but he decided it was too great a risk with so many trees.
The field adjoined the village’s only approach road; Ben was impressed by the condition of its surface. Cortés took the lead as they headed north towards the hamlet, familiarising himself with the area’s main features and landmarks.