The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation

by John Paul Davis

  She recognised all of them.

  “Quickly. We haven’t a moment to lose.”

  *

  Cortés glanced at the departing helicopter as it flew rapidly away above the mangroves, leaving a trail of debris in its wake. Eduardo was seething, not that he had expected anything different. His own father had once told him the one duty of a man who heads off to conquer other lands is to ensure the family legacy is secure without him. With Eduardo safe, at least it had hope.

  He prayed it wasn’t the last time he would ever see him.

  Pizarro and Claude were smoking by the water’s edge, showing complete indifference to the conditions. Ben and the others waited without resorting to nicotine.

  Ben approached him, the local humidity already causing his pores to open, his skin to redden. “I suggest we move fast. Unless we find a clean source, we’re only gonna have enough water for about twelve hours.”

  “As usual, you overcomplicate things. I expect to be gone within six.”

  Ben raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious. “You have a secret plan up your sleeve?”

  “Certainly. It’s called preparation.”

  *

  Colts was also standing by the water’s edge, comparing the old map with the terrain that he could currently see. Reeds grew profusely in the marshland on all sides of the island, creating the illusion it lay in a secure lagoon.

  “You did say you’ve been here before?” Juliet sipped her water, visibly nervous.

  “A long time ago,” Colts confirmed. “And I wouldn’t drink all of that in one go. You never know when you might really need it.”

  She replaced the container in her rucksack, suddenly nervous. Looking around, she feared she had entered a death trap.

  Ben appeared after speaking to Juan.

  “Well, I’ll give you one thing. The island does look like the fabled Aztlán.” She placed her hands on her hips, her attention falling on the thick growth of reeds in the marshland. “I assume you know which way to go?”

  “Why ask me? Here’s the tour guide.”

  Colts turned away from the river, his eyes on the lush thick greenery. Though a treacherous area of wet ground blocked their path initially, there was clear evidence of forest on the higher ground closer to the mountain.

  “The first time I came, I began south. Today we’re due north.”

  “You mean you’re already lost?” Ben asked.

  “The settlements we found were south-east of the mountain; imagine you’re on St Lide’s and you needed to head from the old Roman fort to Hell’s Bay.”

  “So, south-south-east.” Ben considered the best way to proceed. East of the mountain, the canopy was rich, imposing; the sounds of the jungle echoed beneath the foliage. Looking at the wet ground in front of them, he feared the only option was to trek round the long way. “You know of any short cuts?”

  “Nope. What did Dr Thomas say?”

  “His diary didn’t include anything about Mexico. Even the lost pages didn’t get beyond England.”

  “What about Sir Walter?”

  Raleigh, Ben thought to himself. Seventy-two hours in the air had provided ample reading time.

  “Apparently Raleigh came to the island within weeks of visiting Guiana. Sailed downriver, and began from the south. The main temple was exactly where you said it would be. The real secrets were hidden inside.”

  Colts nodded, rubbing his beard. “Well then, I suggest we get cracking before the water runs out.”

  *

  High above the tropical forest in the shadow of the great temple, another pair of eyes saw everything with an unrestricted view. The watcher made no attempt to hide his identity; being so high up, he knew detection would be impossible.

  As the strange flying bird with arms rotating in a blurred motion ascended into the heavens above him, he noticed a hint of movement in the marshland. As the minutes passed, it continued, becoming more apparent.

  Before disappearing from sight below the rich canopy.

  48

  Onward they trekked, following a bearing of 210 degrees, heading for the area Colts – and Raleigh – had described as the hub of civilisation.

  Any sign of it, however, remained hidden from view by the dense curtain of foliage.

  The only way to avoid the wetlands had been to take the long way round, which meant circling the island from north to north-east and from there creating their own path south-west through the tropical forest. For three hours they had persevered, their sturdy hiking boots creating a loud, ominous squelching sound as they dredged through the ankle-deep water left over from recent storms. The ocean of leaves above them rippled as they threatened to buckle under the weight of falling rain.

  The clouds, like the sun, had come and gone since they had set out.

  Kabil walked out in front, the noise of his large knife hacking against the trees drowning out some of the sounds of the ecosystem. His troops followed close behind, armed to the teeth with an arsenal of weapons either hanging from their belts or held across their chests. The Spaniards took up the rear; Cortés continued his regular conversation with Pizarro and Claude while the retinue pushed on in silence.

  As Ben had expected, he, Chris, Juliet and Colts were left to make up the middle of the party.

  “I still don’t understand,” Ben said to Colts, doing his best to keep his voice low. “If this place is so important, why didn’t the Duke order in the SAS or ask the Mexican government for a full military guard on your first visit?”

  “Truth is, just like now, the Duke was unaware we were even here. Even for a man as loyal as Arthur, it didn’t always do to tell his superiors everything.”

  “So the island is a complete secret?”

  “Aside from us, Dr Thomas and the people who followed him, I’d say the only people alive who know are Ikal and his people.”

  “So how exactly did you get back in contact with him?”

  “Kabil’s father and I go back to my first visit, though it’s only in the last fifteen years or so he’s finally joined the full exchange. He still doesn’t have much contact with the outside world.” He checked to make sure Juan wasn’t listening. “I thank the Lord, for all our sakes, that he saw sense and listened to me. Between you and me, without their expertise it would have been nigh on impossible to bypass the mountain.”

  “Do they know the exact location of the temple?”

  “Better than us. Even to their tribe, the island isn’t exactly a regular tourist spot.”

  Ben nodded. Leaving Colts, he hurried towards the front of the convoy. Kabil was now fourth in line. Another had taken over the role of chief hacker.

  “I take it you’re aware of the temple’s location?” Ben asked.

  Kabil answered in English. “The temple is located approximately one hundred metres up the mountain. Long ago, a great pyramid was built alongside the mountain, with the great temple located at the top. Within is a doorway to the mountain.”

  “What was that for?”

  “Years ago, before my people walked the land, and before the great Olmec civilisations at San Lorenzo and La Venta, it was said that seven tribes existed here, all dwelling in the heart of the mountain. There, they created the first temple. And the dawn of society.”

  “So Chicomoztoc really does exist!” Ben said, learning nothing new. “What of Tollan?”

  “The great Toltec city was created in the shadow of the mountain many years later atop earlier ruins. Today it also lies in ruin.”

  “If they’re ruins, presumably they’re no longer inhabited?”

  “Six of the seven tribes left the island before the second city was built, including my people. Since the early years, they have all travelled far beyond the heartland. Only one remained behind.”

  “So they are still there?”

  “For many years since, the tribe made their home deep in the heart of the mountain.” Kabil’s expression became suddenly uneasy. “Hopefully if we do not disturb them, we will be
able to pass their boundaries unseen.”

  Ben nodded, grimacing. He had heard enough from Colts to know the situation couldn’t be treated lightly.

  He dropped back, now walking alongside Juliet. Like himself, her boots were wet, her face red, her usually smooth skin covered in cuts and bites.

  “What did he say?”

  “The temple is located on a pyramid close to the mountain and that a doorway leads into the mountain and the seven caves.”

  “You actually believe this to be Chicomoztoc?”

  “Even if it isn’t the exact place of myth, chances are it probably is the source of it; you said yourself, this island clearly is the mythical Aztlán. If there are ruins here, it can’t be ruled out that this is the city that inspired the legends of Tollan.”

  “So who lived here?”

  “Originally seven tribes, according to Kabil. However, six of them, including his own people, eventually moved on. Kabil has already confirmed that the Raleigh book is correct. The ruins were built by the Toltecs. After everything we’ve seen, I’m reluctant to dismiss everything out of hand.”

  Juliet took a deep breath, panting slightly. “You’re certain he knows where we’re going?”

  Ben nodded, noticing she was starting to tire. “It was Kabil’s father who showed Colts the original ruins thirty years ago. Sadly they didn’t get beyond the pyramid.”

  “What about the other tribe?”

  “Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to hope either they’ve all died out or that they don’t have themselves an arms dealer.”

  *

  Another hour passed. The weather alternated, sunshine and rain, as did the seven locals in leading the hacking. Even with the sun out, it was dark beneath the trees, the faint rays of light an almost angelic vision beneath the enveloping canopy.

  Inevitably there was no phone signal; Ben had already taken the decision to save his battery. Colts and Kabil, meanwhile, relied on the old-fashioned methods of navigation. Thanks to the compass, they had been able to follow the intended route. The chalk-coloured mountain had remained largely visible through gaps in the foliage, its ever-changing position confirming their progress. Circling it from the north, its appearance had become ever more rustic, confirming vegetation grew freely. The slope was gentle in places, then more defined; Ben speculated it was possible to climb the base naturally. Kabil confirmed that was so.

  But not necessary.

  As they passed beyond the eastern point of the mountain, Ben noticed a distinct change in the scenery. The forest, though still profuse, was more open; a muddy path meandered through the trees close to what appeared to be an ancient stream that Ben guessed connected the river to the mountain.

  The locals took the opportunity to bathe their faces.

  Ben caught Chris doing the same. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Just because they think it’s safe doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

  Chris took his advice, albeit reluctantly. “Gonna need something soon. My shirt’s soaked.”

  “Same here. Just think of all the lovely beer and candy you can buy with all the gold we’re about to find.”

  Kabil and Colts were engaged in conversation close to the stream, Juliet listening. The Spaniards, especially Cortés, remained surprisingly quiet.

  “You know this place?” Ben asked Kabil.

  “The stream is the only water source on the island. In days gone by, the area was sacred because it was believed to originate from a spring somewhere on the mountain.”

  “Where does it lead?”

  “There is a cave close to the mountain, not far from here. In ancient times, it was used as a place of isolation. Hermitage in the Christian language.”

  Ben walked away from the stream, taking in the nearby sights. The trees seemed older in these parts, more rugged, and stank of both damp and humidity. The rain had started again, trickling into the nearby puddles close to his feet. The sounds of the forest were still loud, the insects sticking to him as close as the weather.

  Pizarro had appeared alongside him. “This was not the route I took before; admit it, we are lost.”

  “Even if we are, it’s only a small island. Exploration isn’t an exact science. Sometimes things take longer than planned.”

  “The ruins were on the south side. The only logic is to head west, yet the monkeys insist on taking us south.” He pushed his face closer to Ben’s, his nostrils ventilating. “Even the animals here do not know the way in their own jungle.”

  Ben remained quiet, ignoring the temptation to punch him in the face. Colts and Chris appeared alongside him as Pizarro moved on.

  “What was that all about?” Chris asked.

  “Nothing. Man just missed his naptime. Can certainly tell where his son got his charm from.”

  Colts grinned, light relief. “I hope he doesn’t have a point.”

  “Sadly, he does. The pathway seems to be taking us too far south. The wrong way. You said yourself last time there was another that led to the ruins.”

  “This isn’t the US, Ben. It’s not like the national parks where you have people maintaining these things. For all I know, the path I knew was submerged in the undergrowth years ago.”

  “Just what we need.” Ben wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief and adjusted his baseball cap; after several hours, his forehead felt itchy beneath the brim.

  To the south, the path continued along the stream. Just like the surrounding forest, the water buzzed with marine life, unseen eyes stalking them like spies from below the banks.

  “I hope there are no caimans on the island,” Chris said.

  Ben ignored him, focusing on the trees to the east. Beyond a small clearing, he noticed a large rock: rough and boulder like. Gesturing Chris to join him, they proceeded carefully till they were within touching distance. Ben studied the side that was visible.

  “That a ruin?”

  “No. Just granite.” Ben evaluated the stone. “Help me up. Maybe it might give us a view beyond the foliage.”

  Chris boosted him up, holding his back for support. Struggling for grip, Ben rolled on to his front and pulled hard at the jagged edges, hoping to secure his balance. Once up, he got slowly to his feet and scaled the rock to its pinnacle, now over twelve feet above the ground.

  Standing, his head rose above the trees.

  He looked around, inspired by what he saw. As expected, the vast swathes of greenery continued in every direction, ending on all sides at water. The marshes and the mangroves that dominated the north side of the island were now invisible, hidden behind the abundant tree life.

  The standout feature was the mountain that rose an estimated nine hundred metres above the canopy, the summit partially hidden by low cloud. The sun had returned; the threat of a storm subsided.

  Ben figured they had at least another six hours of daylight.

  He turned his focus to the areas close by, desperate for any sign of past civilisation. The sounds of nature continued to reverberate loudly in his ears, though in a less confined manner. Ben knew if he had his bearings correct, he needed to concentrate on the area left of the mountain as he looked at it: the south-east quarter of the island. The foliage was thick, the occasional gap revealing little of interest.

  Carefully he rose higher, extending to his full height. From his new position, he noticed patterns among the trees, matching that of the stream. Kabil was correct, he concluded.

  Eventually the stream led back to the mountain.

  As did the path.

  Ben descended the stone, returning close to Chris.

  “What did you see?”

  “Mermaids. Lots of mermaids.” Ben laughed. He passed Cortés as he returned to the path. “Kabil was right. After about half a mile this takes us north-north-west. If we follow the stream it will lead us to the mountain.”

  “What of the ruins?”

  “Couldn’t see anything.” He glanced at Colts as he took the initiative to start the walk again. “But at least
we already know they’re there.”

  *

  Ben was relieved he had made the correct call. What began as a gently meandering walk south developed into something far more challenging as they reached a point at which two routes crossed and a second area of marshland adjoined the tropical forest.

  The stream had split in two, one branch heading south into the river.

  The other north-west, inland.

  They followed it inland for a further half an hour, by which time the scenery had changed again. The imposing plant life, which had earlier surrounded them on all sides, greatly reducing visibility and making it difficult to keep track of their progress, was now looser, less restrictive. The sky had become fully visible for the first time, the harsh rays of the early afternoon sun cooking the leaves underfoot like a hot grill. Other things were also visible for the first time, less natural.

  Ben was the first to notice further stone objects among the trees. Chris followed him, as did Cortés. At the front of the party, Kabil had also stopped.

  “What is it?” Kabil asked.

  Ben neglected to answer. In the meantime, Colts and Juliet had also appeared, equally puzzled. Ben removed his machete from his rucksack and battled with the thick undergrowth, vines and shrubbery falling to the ground as they came into contact with the blade. Piece by piece, the first of the mysterious objects revealed itself.

  Colts quickly joined him, followed by Juliet and Cortés. The object was large, at least three metres in height, only just fitting beneath the tops of nearby trees. There were features carved deep into the stone: eyes, ears, mouth and nose. The face was flat, alien-like. Thick lips. Headgear like a helmet.

  Colts was brimming with enthusiasm. “I’d say this is a new one even on me. Didn’t I tell you it looked like the head from La Venta?”

  Ben nodded, recognising the similarities. “Question is, what’s it doing here?”

  Cortés moved alongside him, studying the strange idol with a sense of assurance. “The Olmecs were clearly here, either them or whoever they descended from.” He turned to Colts. “I think we have entered the boundary of the old city.”