Spellbound Trilogy: The Wind Casts No Shadow, Heart of the Jaguar, Shadows in the Mirror

by Jeanne Rose

  "Your friend Tezco gave us some hardtack and strips of jerky," Sam finally went on. "He seems to be more threat than deed."

  "Tezco isn't my friend."

  "Uh-huh. He'd like to be a lot more."

  But surely he didn't think she condoned that. "I don't blame you for being jealous."

  "He hasn't hurt you?" His mouth tightened as if he wanted to ask, Or touched you?

  She said, "Nothing has changed. He's never done more than kiss me...and that was miles and miles ago." She gazed at Sam's bruise, wished her hands weren't tied so she could stroke it gently. "Who hit you?"

  "One of Tezco's men – he didn't like being poisoned."

  "But you had nothing to do with that!"

  "We were trying to escape. And he had to take his wrath out on someone, I guess." He rubbed at the bonds chafing his wrists. "Tezco intervened in that, too. Otherwise, the man would have killed me."

  "From the first, Tezco insisted he and his band were thieves, not murderers. I'm beginning to believe it's the truth, especially in his case."

  Sam gazed at her assessingly. "Was he only joking when he threatened to kill you?"

  "I don't think he would have done it."

  "Too bad you didn't let Ryerson and me know, then. We would have made a move on him when we had the chance."

  "A knife at the throat doesn't make a person feel much like talking," she admitted.

  "Well, what's done is done." Again, Sam examined his bonds. "So we're still captives. Why would bandits want captives anyway?"

  "I don't know. I never have been able to figure it out."

  "And where are we going?"

  "I don't know that either."

  Or what was going to happen in the future. But wherever they ended up, she didn't want to be separated from Sam. "We can still try to make an escape."

  He merely nodded.

  "We can." She wanted to see a spark of hope in his blue-green eyes. "Even if those men who were with you lost our trail. We still have Monte and Jake, Roberto and Shorty. That's six of us. All we need is the right chance."

  "And some guns."

  "Which isn't impossible. I have more freedom moving around the camp. I'll see what I can do."

  Sam quirked a thoughtful brow, for a moment looking more like himself. But before Louisa could come up with a scheme, the horses in front of them halted, forcing them to rein in. Loud voices echoed up ahead. A pebble rolled down a rocky wall, alerting her to someone walking above. She glanced up, catching sight of a brown man wearing a loincloth and carrying a rifle. He waved the band onward.

  She leaned toward Sam. "An Indian."

  "Not from any tribe I know. But I've never been this deep into Mexico before."

  The long line of bandits started up again, halting only for a moment at what seemed to be the brush-filled end of the pass. Then the brush gaped open, a cleverly constructed gate thrown outward by more armed men. Inside, the high walls of a canyon serving as a backdrop, a great crowd waited, parting as the first mounted bandits rode toward them. Waving reeds and flowers, the people in the gathering cheered, some playing drums, rattles, or little whistling flutes.

  Monte came up beside Sam and Louisa. "What the hell is this? Are they welcoming us?"

  Sam shook his head.

  Spotting the bandit leader up ahead, Louisa noticed even Tezco seemed unnerved. Glancing right and left at the crowd surrounding them, he exchanged quick words with Xosi and checked his nervous horse. All the horses were jittery, Defiant snorting and acting like he wanted to shy. El Tigre made low squeals in his throat and rolled his eyes.

  A strange odor filled the air.

  And further ahead, a great tiered stone pyramid emerged from a mound of earth, an expanse of narrow stone steps on its exposed side leading up to a flat apex where fire glowed. Louisa's eyes widened. The crowd closed in, men taking hold of the prancing horses' bridles.

  More flutes. More drums. More cheers.

  And then a tall, white-bearded, outlandishly dressed figure stepped out on the topmost tier of the pyramid. A hush fell over the assemblage.

  "Welcome!" the man boomed in Spanish, his exotic feathered headdress waving with the projected power of his deep voice. Wearing a bright green cape over a long white skirt, a gold and turquoise neckpiece on his bare chest, waving a golden staff in one hand, a rattlesnake in the other, he spoke some words in a strange language. Then he addressed the newcomers again, "Welcome, Tezcalipoca and Xochiquetzal. Your divine presences are sacred."

  Tezco shouted, "I brought the thing you asked for!"

  "Your gifts are blessed," boomed the outrageous personage high above. "Please bring forth an honored guest."

  A guest? Confused, Louisa looked to Tezco who was frowning. The bandit leader gestured for his band and the captives to dismount. Louisa did so reluctantly as Tezco made his way toward her, several loin-clothed men flanking him on either side.

  But they passed right by her, one of the men pointing at Sam. "El Rubio."

  The blond. The dark-haired, brown-skinned crowd had noticed the conspicuous Anglo with the fair hair and scarred face.

  "They want you to come with me," Tezco told him.

  Sam frowned. "Why?"

  The bandit leader quirked his lip. "To meet Quetzalcoatl."

  Louisa didn't recognize the name. But she was concerned for Sam and tried to move people aside to follow him as the guards accompanied him toward the pyramid.

  But the crowd was tightly packed. Only El Tigre's rearing and snorting kept any space at all cleared. Fearing the stallion would get himself into trouble, she struggled toward him, taking his bridle from the strangers who held him. At least the powerful animal's threatening movements kept people from pressing in on her. When she got him under control, she turned to look for Sam, saw that he and Tezco and the guards were climbing the pyramid stairs.

  Monte Ryerson came up beside her, his black eyes wide and focused on the scene before them. "I don't like this."

  "Like what? What's going on?"

  He pointed out, "See those steps? That's blood."

  "Blood?"

  She gazed more closely, noted the stains darkening the stairs, as if rusty splashes and rivulets had dribbled down them. Blood. The strange, sour odor. No wonder the horses were spooking.

  Louisa shivered, a chill sweeping through her. "Why?"

  "Quetzalcoatl's an Aztec god. He requires sacrifices...human sacrifices. They cut the living hearts out of their captives."

  The chill Louisa felt turned to cold horror. Somewhere, sometime, she had heard about the ancient blood-thirsty beliefs of the Indians. Frozen in place, she stared, watching the small entourage approaching the very top of the pyramid.

  "Whose heart are they going to cut out?" she whispered, her own heart in her throat.

  "I don't think it'll be Tezco's."

  Sam!

  For a moment, Louisa's breath actually stopped. Her muscles tensed, became stone. Then heat started to glow, flaring up in the vicinity of her middle, spreading outward slowly, then faster and as furiously as a dry brush fire. Her eyes burned. Her body shook. Her lips trembled and finally opened in a great shout, "No-o-o!"

  Unthinking, oblivious to the crowd, she sprang for El Tigre, leaping to his back and slapping the reins as she kicked his sides. The horse plunged forward with a squeal.

  Screams. Curses.

  Louisa only rode harder, yelling, "Out of my way!"

  People fell or were brushed aside. Someone dived for the mustang's bridle. But the man jerked back when Louisa kicked him viciously.

  "I said get out of my way!"

  The crowd parted. El Tigre broke into an all-out gallop. Heading for the earthen side of the pyramid, Louisa rode the mustang straight up the steep incline. His sure-footed hooves dug into the soil.

  Lying flat against the stallion's heaving neck, Louisa saw the man she loved struggling with his captors. She screamed to high heaven, calling his name over and over, "Sam! Sam!"

&nb
sp; Would the last thing he ever heard be her horrified cry?

  SAM WAS HORRIFIED. Not exactly knowing what the crazy, white-bearded man had meant by "guest", he'd ignored the rank odor of blood as Tezco had taken him to the top of the pyramid where a great altar rested on its highest tier. It was only then he realized what they meant to do to him.

  Human sacrifice!

  Sam struggled but the surrounding men were too many and too strong. For a moment, staring into their bronzed faces, he felt as if the Indians he'd fought for years were finally getting even with him. They ripped off his shirt, tied his feet, laid his body across the huge stone so his head hung down. Tezco stood only yards away, his own face a mask of horror. Hadn't his captor known was meant for him, then? Sam wondered.

  The leader of the group, the man in the headdress, was a white man like himself. He now held a wicked oval-shaped obsidian blade aloft. Sam swallowed bile. He had seen plenty of death but never like this. The noises of the crowd below the pyramid became a roar. Some people screamed. Sam thought the thudding sound he heard was the pounding of his own heart until he distinguished hoofbeats coming closer.

  A furious black horse and a wild-haired, wild-eyed rider suddenly exploded onto the pyramid tier. Dear God, it was...

  "Louisa! Get the hell out of here! Go!" Sam screamed at her. "Save yourself!"

  "Sam!" Louisa beat the reins in the faces of the men who tried to stop her, screaming, "Let him go!"

  Sam thought the madman would now kill the woman he loved. Tezco tried to stop her, only to be knocked flat as the black horse wheeled from one side to the other, striking out with sharp hooves.

  The costumed white man himself had backed away, dropped his staff, let go of his rattlesnake. The creature slithered to safety in a dark crevice of stone. But to Sam's amazement, the white-bearded man seemed pleased. A great smile spread across the insane face beneath the feathered headdress.

  Blue eyes blazed fire as he commanded, "Do not hurt her! Come away!" He held up a hand, as if he were trying to calm Louisa. "You may have this man if you want him, young woman. Do not despair."

  Louisa appeared confused. "Sam, are you all right? They haven't hurt you, have they?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Thank God." She spoke soft words to the stallion, settling him down despite the hands trying to grab the horse's reins and drag her off.

  "Leave her!" the leader told his men. And to Louisa, "Very courageous -- both the beast and the woman." Then he began issuing orders. "Free El Rubio. Cut his bonds. Prepare one of the houses for them. Take them there, provide them with servants."

  But as one of the men came toward her, Louisa shouted, "Stay away from me!"

  The madman motioned to his followers. "Let her lead the horse herself." He prodded Strong toward her. "And here is your prize, lovely brave one."

  Leaving Tezco gaping. "What is happening? All this talk of the soldier as a prize, Louisa having him. This brave woman is mine, Beaufort Montgomery!"

  "Quetzalcoatl...please use our correct titles, Tezcalipoca. This woman belongs to all the gods."

  Tezco looked as if he wanted to spit on the crazy white man. "I found her, took her, brought her here."

  Blood churned through Sam's veins. He'd give anything to choke the life from the bastard, but any display of hostility on his part would probably get him killed on the spot. Then who would take care of Louisa?

  "You were truly clever, Tezcalipoca," the white-haired madman was saying, "for you have offered us the bravest heart."

  The bravest heart? Meaning Louisa herself would be sacrificed? Sam tried not to panic, tried to keep a cool head. He'd need one to get them out of this. For if it was the last thing he ever did – and it might be – he intended to see that Louisa got away safely.

  Another group mounted the flat pinnacle of the pyramid, Xosi with a second captive. She locked eyes with her brother, as if warning him of something. To Sam's dazed eyes, it seemed that only the surrounding armed men kept Tezco from stopping Montgomery as the madman chanted while this newest victim was tied to the great stone. Two of the men casually kept the barrels of their rifles pointed in the direction of Tezco's chest.

  "Oh, my God!" cried Louisa, her expression horrified as she looked at the man on the altar. "Roberto!"

  All Sam could do was hold her. No way could they stop this from happening. Again, bile rose in his throat as the bearded man in the headdress plunged his oval-shaped knife straight down into his victim's chest. Blood spurted, splattered on the white clothing of the men surrounding the altar. And a shriek such as Sam had never heard echoed through the canyon, reverberated off its walls. He forgot to breath. His knees quaked.

  Another, weaker shriek.

  A gurgling groan.

  And then the man in the headdress roared, cutting, stabbing, until he held a dripping red piece of meat aloft. Roberto's heart.

  The crowd cheered and streamed toward the temple. A rumble came from deep within the earth and the very ground beneath their feet shifted.

  El Tigre screamed and rose on his rear legs, nearly ripping the reins from Louisa's hands. Sam's and her shocked gazes met even as the earth settled. The tremor had lasted no more than a few seconds. Sam saw that Louisa was stunned, somewhere between dazed and wanting to be sick. He grabbed the reins himself and jerked the horse's head down, slid an arm about Louisa and led both the woman and the animal down the side of the pyramid, against the crowd. He had to be strong for her, no matter how helpless and weak he felt.

  Though he could offer no comfort for the atrocity they'd witnessed. Not any more than he could offer an explanation for it. They seemed to have traveled backward in time, to have entered a realm where Aztecs still reigned, a kingdom that existed before the Europeans invaded.

  "Hold on, Louisa, hold on. I'm with you," he whispered, knowing his words were of little comfort.

  He became aware that guards accompanied them, men with weapons who kept them in sight. At one point, a guard stepped forward and motioned for them to turn. Louisa paused, glanced over her shoulder.

  "Don't look. There's no use," Sam said, smoothing her hair, leading her forward again.

  He didn't want to look himself. Was Roberto's blood streaming down the long flight of steps? If so, he didn't want Louisa to see it. She was soft-hearted, if courageous.

  So courageous the leader in the headdress had said she could have whatever she wanted. Too bad she hadn't asked for the lives of all the captives. But who could have known...

  They passed Monte Ryerson standing stone still, eyes bleak, expression shocked.

  Concerned for what might happen to the rancher, Sam told Louisa, "Tell these guards you'd like your friends taken care of."

  "What?" Her eyes were wide, her lips almost white.

  He motioned to one of the men who shadowed them. "If you tell these men the other captives are your friends, we might be able to ensure their safety."

  "Yes." Finally, she understood. She addressed the guard, "The other men are my compadres --"

  "Si, Señorita, you will see them," said the guard. "They will be staying near you, if you so desire."

  "I desire." Louisa exchanged glances with Sam, who kept his arm tightly and protectively about her shoulders.

  They kept walking until they'd traversed half the length of the canyon. Several low houses were built on a slope below the canyon wall. Hardly in the mood for observation, Sam had nevertheless noticed canals, crops, and animal pens as they'd passed by.

  "Stop here," said the guard, indicating one of the houses. "This will be yours."

  The man wanted to lead El Tigre away but the horse refused to settle down. Sam didn't blame him, tied him to a small brushy tree. Then he led Louisa inside the house, a one-room affair with the basic comforts of a low makeshift bed set on a platform of stones, a table, a bench.

  The guards stayed outside.

  Sam took Louisa in his arms. She clung to him, held him tightly as if she never wanted to let go. He felt her s
houlders tremble and realized she was crying. His own eyes filled.

  Eventually, she sobbed openly, brokenly. "I-I saved Roberto's life. He was wounded by a bullet and I made some medicine for his shoulder."

  Sam mumbled comforting, murmuring sounds as he cradled her tenderly.

  "M-maybe I should have let him die," Louisa mourned. "It would have been less painful. Less horrific. How could one human being do that to another?"

  Sam couldn't think of anything that would make her feel better. And, as for himself, he was haunted by terrible deeds of his own. He sighed and stroked her back, kissed her forehead.

  Louisa took a deep, shuddering breath. "If only I could forget that scream --"

  "You have to forget about it." As he'd been forced to do in so many instances. "There's no other choice."

  Not if a person wanted to live, wanted to keep his reason. Sam laid his scarred cheek against the warmth of Louisa, his hope and mainstay in a violent, insane world.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  TEZCO FEARED he was going insane. He awoke sick, sore and exhausted in the small mudbrick house he shared with Xosi. Quetzalcoatl – no, Beaufort Montgomery, the crazy gringo – had assigned the dwelling to them after sharing a meal with him and his band the night before.

  But Montgomery did not rule them.

  Not any more than nightmares would rule him, please God. He'd had the worst yet and planned to talk to Xosi today about seeing a bruja or a priest. He did not wish to be possessed by a demon.

  And possession was the only explanation for the vivid visions – first, the snarling face, then the flying on the wind. Lastly, he had become the demon himself, had stood atop a great mountain clad only in a jaguar skin as he fought with a plumed serpent. The contest had been closely matched but the serpent had eventually won, had made peace by assuring him there would be other women, all that he wanted, and that they should celebrate their divine association by feasting on mortal flesh and blood.

  Tezco shuddered as he recalled the second meal of the night, the table in his dream – the bowls of gore he and the serpent had sat down to. He must forget that!

  Just as he had to forget the horrific murder he had witnessed the day before.