Empire of the Skull

by Philip Caveney

  'Hey!' snapped Bandolier. 'I don' got all day to sit around listening to you two!' He said something to Serape, who spurred his horse over to the other mounts and started to search through the saddlebags. In a few moments his hand emerged holding Coates's pistol.

  'Oh, now ain't that funny,' said Bandolier. 'I thought you said that was a bottle of whisky.' He studied Alec intently. 'You lie to me again, kid, and I will take a stick and beat you till you scream for mercy. You got that? Now, both of you get on your horses and come along with us.'

  Alec thought for a moment. 'Can I just get my sketching things?' he asked.

  Bandolier looked as though he was about to explode. 'I'm sick and tired of listening to your questions,' he snarled. 'Now, for the last time, get on your horse. I won't ask you again.'

  Suddenly Serape gave a cry. He had turned in his saddle and was looking up at the ridge behind them. A lone horseman had appeared, silhouetted against the skyline. The horse stood there for a moment, and then the rider urged it on down the hillside. It moved swiftly into the cover of the trees and was lost to sight.

  Bandolier looked amused. 'This the big party of men you mentioned?' he said. 'They don' look like they're gonna cause much trouble.'

  Alec and Coates glanced at each other, bemused. They didn't have the least idea who it might be.

  They waited in silence for what seemed an eternity. Then the horseman emerged from the trees and approached at a gallop. Now Alec could see that he rode tall in the saddle, that he was broad-shouldered and wore a Stetson hat. As he came closer, Alec spotted the handle of a Colt .45 jutting from a leather holster on his right hip and a red bandana draped around his neck.

  Alec had never been more pleased to see a person in his entire life.

  The man drew his grey horse to a halt and sat there, looking at the two Mexicans, a confident smile on his thin lips.

  'Good day, gentlemen,' said Ethan Wade. 'Looks like I got here just in time for the party.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mexican Stand-off

  'I never thought I'd say this,' said Coates calmly, 'but I'm very pleased to see you, Mr Wade.'

  'Likewise, Coates,' said Ethan, but he never took his eyes off the two Mexicans. 'I must have got to the hacienda only an hour after you left. The gardener told me where you were headed and I figured I should come straight after you. Luckily there was a spare horse.'

  'Thank goodness for that,' said Coates.

  'Who are you?' snapped Bandolier, but Ethan ignored him.

  'I got to admit, I'm surprised at you, bringing the boy way out here,' he said.

  Coates sighed. 'I can assure you, I had very little say in the matter,' he murmured. 'You know how headstrong Master Alec can be.'

  'Oh yeah, he can be single-minded when he wants to be.'

  'Hey, cowboy! I'm talkin' to you!' snapped Bandolier, but again Ethan acted as though he hadn't heard him.

  'I'd appreciate it if you and Coates didn't talk about me as though I wasn't here,' complained Alec.

  'Point taken,' said Ethan. 'You OK, kid?'

  'I'm fine, thanks.'

  'And who are these two muchachos ?'

  'These fine gentlemen were just inviting us to ride along with them,' explained Coates. 'One of them said something about cutting off one of Master Alec's ears and sending it to his father.'

  'Is that a fact?' Ethan smiled. 'What's the matter, boys, they don't do postcards round here? Sounds downright unfriendly to me.'

  Bandolier sneered. 'Who the hell do you think you are?' he asked. 'You gonna stop us from taking the boy? One man, all by himself ?'

  Ethan stared at him. 'I guess so,' he said. 'You got a problem with that?'

  Bandolier laughed mockingly and looked across at Serape. There was a good twenty feet between them, and Serape was edging his horse sideways to make it more difficult for Ethan to cover them both.

  'Oh, I see,' said Bandolier. 'You are the big tough gringo cowboy, come over here to show us how it's done, huh?'

  Ethan shrugged. 'That kind of thing,' he said. 'I usually charge for lessons, but in your case I'll make an exception.'

  'Well, let me point something out to you, vaquero. Me and my friend here, we each got a gun and we good shots. I am fast on the draw; he is even faster. You reckon you can beat both of us?'

  Ethan's gaze never wavered. 'I know I can beat both of you,' he said. 'But me, I'm a reasonable man. I'm going to give you a chance to ride away. See, this might surprise you, but I don't like having to kill people – it kind of goes against the grain with me. Oh, I can do it and I will do it if I have to, but at heart I'm a peace-loving guy. I really don't want to shoot the two of you unless I absolutely have to. You see my problem?'

  Bandolier laughed again, tilting back his head to look at the sky. Alec and Coates watched the unfolding scene in tense silence.

  'You're real funny,' said Bandolier at last. 'You're killing me! You talk tough too. But you know we're not going to ride away from here, don' you?'

  Ethan sighed. 'I had an idea you wouldn't,' he said. 'And that saddens me. See, the way I figure it, you boys could get away clean and be in some cantina tonight, drinking mescal and telling stories about how you came real close to losing your lives, but how instead, you made the right decision. But no, you're gonna be lying in the dirt, supplying the local coyote population with supper. Heck, I know which choice I'd make.'

  Bandolier stopped laughing. 'Enough of this talk!' he snapped. 'Make your move, vaquero.'

  Ethan said nothing and made no attempt to reach for his gun. Alec watched intently, hardly daring to breathe.

  'I said, make your move!'

  'Oh, I'm in no hurry, compadre. After you.'

  Bandolier's face was set in a scowl and Alec noticed that thick beads of sweat had broken out on his brow and were trickling down his face. His right arm was held out a few inches above the handle of his revolver, but Ethan's stayed by his side. The American looked relaxed, as though he had not a care in the world.

  There was a long silence, broken only by the distant shrieking of a hawk.

  'Hear that?' murmured Ethan. 'There's somebody else likes to dine on dead meat. Reckon he's calling all his friends to the party.'

  'You talk too much,' said Bandolier.

  'Well, talk is cheap and life is precious. And only a fool would throw his life away over a few pesos in ransom money.'

  'I tol' you to shut up!'

  'Yeah, you did. And you told me to make a move, but I haven't and neither have you. You going to use that gun? I mean, we can sit here for a few more hours if you like, but it's down to you, amigo.'

  Bandolier's hand began to inch closer to the pistol, but now the sweat was literally pouring down his face. Suddenly he shook his head, laughing softly, and let his arm fall to his side. 'You know what,' he said. 'You're right. Why would I want to be killed? That's just stupid. A guy doesn't act like you do unless he's a real dead shot.'

  'I don't like to boast,' said Ethan.

  'Me and my friend, we're going to ride away now, OK?'

  Ethan didn't say anything. He sat still in his saddle, watching them. Bandolier lifted his right hand well away from his gun and started to back his horse up. 'We're just going to forget we ever met,' he said. 'How does that sound to you?'

  'Sounds great,' said Ethan.

  Bandolier said something to Serape in Spanish. The other man looked at him, a disappointed expression on his face, but then he too took his arm away from his gun. The Mexicans turned their horses and began to ride slowly back towards the trees.

  Ethan sat where he was, watching them intently. He didn't move a muscle until they were a good distance away. Then he let out a long sigh and dismounted. Alec ran over to him.

  'Ethan, you were brilliant!' he yelled, clapping his hands together. 'You handled that so well. I knew you were good with a gun but I—'

  He broke off when he saw the expression on Ethan's face. He looked drained, his face white and his mouth twisted
into an expression of fury. His hands, where they rested against the pommel of his saddle, were shaking.

  'Wh-what's wrong?' gasped Alec. 'You scared them off – they—'

  'I ought to put you across my knee and paddle your backside!' snarled Ethan. 'Are you crazy? Those two came this close to drawing on me.' He lifted a hand, his thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. 'I could be dead now and those two bandidos could have taken you off to God knows where.'

  'Yes, but—'

  'I can't believe you and Coates came riding out here into the middle of nowhere with nobody to look after you.'

  'I'll take full responsibility,' said Coates, stepping forward.

  'No you won't,' Ethan told him. 'You've got to stop doing that. We both know this was Alec's idea.'

  'But' – Alec pointed towards the huge stone head – 'I heard about that, and naturally I wanted to come here and see it for myself—'

  'Oh, naturally! For Pete's sake, Alec, this is not some game you're playing.' Ethan strode past him and looked despairingly down at the picnic things. 'And this!' he exclaimed. 'Where do you think you are – at the vicarage tea party? This is Mexico – you guys need to wake up and smell the coffee.'

  'Actually, it's tea,' said Coates. 'I don't suppose you'd care for a cup?'

  Ethan studied the valet with obvious irritation. 'No, I don't want a cup of tea. You English think a cup of tea will fix everything!' He turned back to look at Alec. 'You've got to start using your brains a little more,' he said. 'I always had you down as a smart kid, but you just don't think before you act!' He pointed to the distant riders, who had reached the cover of the trees. 'Those two guys could have killed me,' he said.

  'But . . . you said you could beat both of them,' protested Alec.

  'Yeah, I said that. Of course I said it! Doesn't mean I could have. They were two seasoned gunslingers, sitting twenty feet apart . . . Who do you think I am, Billy the Kid? And can you imagine what would have happened if they had shot me? They were gonna cut off one of your ears, for Pete's sake.'

  'Ethan, calm down,' pleaded Alec. 'Yes, I agree it was foolish of me to make this trip. And to be fair to Coates, he did his best to talk me out of it. But . . . well, I'd been cooped up in that place for weeks. I was bored – and you didn't turn up when you were supposed to . . .' He thought for a moment. 'Where have you been, anyway? We expected you more than a week ago.'

  Ethan scowled. 'The trip over didn't go quite as smooth as I'd figured,' he said. 'The ship I came over on got stuck on a sandbank and— Hey, don't try and turn this around to be my fault! I got here as quick as I could – and not a minute too soon, by the look of it.' He paused to gaze at the stone head as though he'd only just noticed it. 'That is quite something,' he admitted. 'Aztec?'

  'Olmec,' Coates corrected him. 'The first great Mexican civilization, much older than the Aztecs.'

  Alec gave him an indignant look but didn't say anything.

  'Yeah, well, amazing or not, I think we should be getting back to Veracruz. Just in case those boys get their courage up and come back for another try.'

  'I bet you could have beaten them,' said Alec, 'if it had come to it.'

  'We'll never know,' said Ethan. 'Now I suggest that we just—'

  'Mr Wade!' Coates was gazing up at the skyline beyond the trees. Ethan and Alec turned to look.

  A bunch of riders had just crested the ridge – some eight or nine of them. Even at this distance, Alec could see that most of them were wearing sombreros. As he watched, Bandolier and Serape emerged from the treeline and rode up to meet them.

  'Oh, that's just great,' said Ethan.

  'He said they were with a big party,' muttered Alec. 'But I thought he was making it up, just like we were.'

  Ethan said something else under his breath. He looked around and then gestured to the tethered horses. 'Mount up,' he said.

  Alec frowned. 'But we can't be sure that they—'

  'Mount up!' said Ethan again, striding towards his own horse. 'There must be ten men up there. If you think I'm going to try and bluff that many, you've got another think coming.'

  Alec grabbed his sketchpad and stuffed it into his saddlebag before climbing up onto his horse. Meanwhile Coates was trying to cram the picnic things into the wicker hamper.

  'Leave that, you idiot!' snapped Ethan. 'They're coming.'

  Alec saw that this was true. The riders were spurring their mounts down the hillside, raising a cloud of dust as they did so. It wouldn't take them long to ride through the trees.

  'Coates, do as you're told!' yelled Ethan.

  The valet abandoned his attempts to save the picnic hamper and concentrated instead on saving his skin. He ran over to his horse and attempted to climb into the saddle. He struggled valiantly, and finally managed to haul himself up. The three of them urged their horses past the stone head and into the forested hills beyond it. Ethan led the way, his body hunched forward in the saddle as he coaxed the grey into a gallop. Alec followed close behind him, but glancing back, he saw that Coates was bouncing inexpertly up and down; it was apparent that he wasn't going to be able to keep up.

  Ethan must have reached the same conclusion. He led them into the cover of the trees and Alec was obliged to duck his head for fear of being struck by overhanging branches. Ethan kept veering off the trail, through the thickest part of the forest, then cutting back. Alec surmised that he was doing his best to throw off their pursuers.

  But it wasn't working. Alec glanced back and saw that they were still being followed by as many as ten horsemen, confident riders, heads down as they rode their horses along the narrow trails. From somewhere behind came a dull crack, and something whizzed past Alec's head to careen off the trunk of a tree ahead of him.

  A sharp stab of fear went through him. 'They're firing at us!' he yelled, and Ethan could only glance back and nod grimly.

  'Keep moving!' he shouted back and turned his horse sharply onto another trail. 'Don't give 'em an easy target!'

  Alec followed suit but then noticed that they were heading down a steep grassy slope, with no cover to shield them. Just beyond that, a piece of land had been cleared of vegetation, and on that dirt strip sat something that Alec wouldn't have expected to see here in a month of Sundays. An aeroplane.

  It was not like any plane he had ever seen before. For one thing, it appeared to have a corrugated metal body that shimmered in the sunlight. For another, instead of having the usual double wing, it was a monoplane. A single propeller on the plane's nose was spinning round and the engine was giving out a loud, steady roar. It was evident that it was about to take off. Ethan immediately urged his horse towards the plane.

  'What are you doing?' Alec yelled after him.

  'The way Coates rides, those bandidos will catch us in no time!' Ethan shouted back. 'Let's see if we can't cadge a lift off these guys.'

  'A lift where?' shouted Coates.

  Ethan shrugged. 'Wherever the hell they're going.'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Change of Plan

  As the three friends galloped towards the plane, Alec saw to his dismay that it had begun to taxi forward. He expected Ethan to change his course but he kept riding hell for leather towards the plane, frantically waving an arm as he did so.

  'We're too late!' Alec heard Coates yell from behind him; but an instant later, a door in the fuselage swung open and a red-faced man in a Panama suit leaned out, beckoning frantically to them.

  Ethan urged his horse closer, and as he came alongside the open door, he leaned to the side and allowed the man to grab him around the waist, swinging him smoothly in through the opening. Ethan's horse galloped away without its rider and Alec felt a twinge of regret. That horse had been his father's pride and joy – there'd probably be hell to pay later, but this was no time to ponder the matter. Now it was his turn.

  Ethan reappeared in the doorway and gestured urgently to Alec to hurry up. Alec took a deep breath and slammed his heels into his horse's flanks as he pulled it to the
left, terrified that its hooves might slip on the smooth airstrip. He came alongside the opening and saw that Ethan was leaning out, the other man hanging onto his other arm to brace him. Alec glanced back and saw that the bandits were now galloping along the runway in pursuit, getting closer all the time. In that same instant, a bullet whizzed past his head, making him cringe.

  'I can't do it!' he cried, but Ethan wasn't having any of that.

  'You've got to,' he yelled over the roar of the engine. 'Just fall sideways – I'll catch you.'

  Alec glanced back again to see Coates bouncing and flopping around in his saddle like a sack of potatoes a short distance behind him; and maybe forty yards beyond him, the bandits, closing on their prey. This was no time to hesitate. He unhooked his feet from the stirrups, snatched a deep breath and allowed himself to fall sideways in his saddle. For a heart-stopping moment he thought he had mistimed it, but Ethan's powerful arm closed around his waist and he hung there, his feet skimming inches above the ground. Then he was hauled into the plane, landing beside the red-faced man. Glancing up, he saw that there was another occupant, a sultry dark-haired young Mexican woman who was glowering down at him as though wondering where on earth he had come from. Even in the panic of the moment, Alec had time to register that she was stunningly beautiful.

  But there was no time for conversation. Alec scrambled to his feet and moved to the doorway to stand beside Ethan. Together they stared out at Coates: he was trying to persuade his own mount to move closer. He looked terrified and Alec could understand why. The bandits were now only yards behind him; another shot was fired and Coates's straw sombrero went tumbling from his head.

  'Come on, Coates!' bellowed Ethan. 'They're nearly upon you.'

  The valet wrenched his horse sideways and administered a heavy slap to its rump, which brought it alongside the plane. He stared at Alec and Ethan helplessly for a moment – as if wondering how he had ever got into this fine mess. But he unhooked his big feet from the stirrups, released the reins and, with a wild yell, began to swing sideways. Alec grabbed his shoulder and then Ethan got an arm around his waist, but they had underestimated the weight of the big Yorkshireman and he nearly yanked them clean out of the doorway. Alec felt himself sliding, but the red-faced man grabbed hold of his belt, stopping him in his tracks. For a few terrifying moments Coates was obliged to run beside the plane, his boots dancing across the airstrip, while he unleashed a torrent of swear words the like of which Alec had never heard him use.