Quest: A Dane Maddock Adventure
With a click, a door swung open, revealing a dark passage in the base of the altar.
"What ..." Hasdrubal must have remembered Aderba'al's warning against interruption, because he clamped his mouth shut and followed without protest as Aderba'al led them down into the tunnel.
He required no light, so familiar was he with this passage. They walked along in silence as complete as the absence of light. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor and it was almost possible to forget the enemy at the gates. Not once, in all the time he followed Aderba'al into the unknowable blackness, did Hasdrubal speak, though he surely was wondering where they were going and why.
When he tasted the salty tang of sea air, Aderba'al knew they had almost arrived at their destination. They emerged in a grotto overlooking a sheltered cove. This place was a temple secret, but it was far from the most important one he would reveal today. Down below, sailing ships were being loaded and made ready to sail.
Hasdrubal looked scandalized at the sight and he rounded angrily on Aderba'al, his face red and his eyes flashing. "You want me to flee like a coward? I shall not do it. You know my bloodline and the obligation it carries with it. How can you ask me to run?"
"What I ask you to do requires more courage than anything you have ever done before." This gained Hasdrubal's attention and he lapsed into an uneasy silence.
Aderba'al drew from his robes an oilcloth pouch and handed it to him. "As you are well aware, our ancestors were the greatest sailors in history. They passed down to us knowledge of a land, wild and unconquered by civilized man. It lies far across the great water beyond the white stones. These maps will show you the way."
"Beyond the white stones? Across the water?"
Aderba'al nodded gravely. "There is no other choice. You must go beyond the reach of our enemy."
Hasdrubal held the bundle in his hands, looking sadly at it. "Surely there are other sailors who can take this command. Other men ..."
"But there is only one man with your blood. One man who can sail, fight, and command their unwavering allegiance. It must be you."
"So I am to find this faraway land and found a new colony?" Regret filled his voice and it was obvious the man would rather fight to the death on the walls than abandon his home.
"That is a part of it, but there is something much more important that you must do. It is a sacred duty that reaches back beyond the history of our people. Few know of if, and should our city fall, as I fear it will, you will perhaps be the only living man with that knowledge."
Aderba'al remembered die day the secret had been passed down to him. He had not believed it at first, but when he had seen the proof with his own eyes, it had been a wondrous revelation. He wondered how Hasdrubal would react to what he was about to be told. Taking a deep breath, he began his talc.
"The ship on which you will travel carries ..."
Hasdrubal stepped off the ship onto sand as white as snow and as hot as a forge. The deep green of the forest was a pleasant change from the months of unrelenting blue sea under blue sky. They had sighted land a few times in recent days, and the others had pleaded with him to take the ships ashore, but he had refused. The maps indicated that these were small islands and wholly unsuitable to their purpose. They needed to disappear in this strange new world. He would lead them into its dark depths until the gods told him they had found their new home. When they reached that place, they would plant die seeds of their new civilization ... literally.
A man stepped out from the darkness of the forest. Short of stature, with dark skin and glossy, black hair, die man looked at him, not with enmity, but curiosity. He carried a primitive spear, but no other weapon. Hasdrubal's hand itched to reach for his sword, but he remained calm. Step by hesitant step, the man came closer, until he stood only a few feet from Hasdrubal, certainly close enough to use that spear if he chose to do so.
A tense silence hung in the air as everyone waited to sec what would happen next. The roar of waves crashing on the shore filled Hasdrubal's ears and the cool breeze ruffled his hair. This would not be the worst place to die, but he somehow sensed this was not his day. His mission was not yet complete.
The dark man looked up at him in wide-eyed wonder.
The moment stretched into an excruciating span of three heartbeats. Then, without preamble, he let his spear drop, and fell face-down alongside it.
Hasdrubal thought, for a moment, that the man had died, but then, more figures melted out of the jungle. Like the first man, they too laid down their weapons and fell prostrate in the sand.
"It is as if they think we are gods," Shafat whispered. A fine sailor, his was one of only four ships that had survived the journey.
"It is well that they do," Hasdrubal replied. "Perhaps they shall be of some use as we search for our new home."
"And where will that be?" There was no disrespect in Shafat's voice, only curiosity.
"I will know it when I find it."
Percy Fawcett looked up from his book and frowned. "Tell me, would you open die door to someone's house and shout to them, Adam? Or would you knock first?" Adam hung his head. "And wash your face. You embarrass me." Apologizing profusely, the man backed out of the tent.
Fuming, Fawcett pulled on his boots. Weak men who could scarcely maintain their humanity in the jungle were an affront to his sensibilities. Why was it so difficult to find men with pride, dignity, and a bit of backbone? Disappointments, every one of them.
He pushed aside the flap of his tent, wondering what absurdity had prompted them to bring him out so late. Despite the lateness of the hour, ir was still hot and muggy out. The others had kept their cookfire burning and were huddled around it, seeming to find comfort. Weaklings! Doubtless they had called him out here for something preposterous. Perhaps a large insect or something of the sort. When he saw the young man lying beneath a blanket by die fire, however, he revised his opinion at once.
Fawcett knelt down beside the young man and pushed back his hair to get a better look. He did not resemble the natives of this region. In fact, he had a distinctly Mediterranean look about him.
"Who is he? Where did he come from?"
"We don't know," Adam replied. "He came staggering into camp and collapsed. He hasn't stopped babbling. Alberto understands some of what he says, but he can't make out die half of it."
Fawcett listened closely. The language was an odd one. Some of die words were recognizable as a dialect similar to that of the natives of this region. The rest was ...
Fawcett gaped, the pipe falling from his mouth. He found that he could understand much of what this young man was saying, but die language was...
It couldn't be!
"Adam, be a good fellow and fetch my book and my pen." Heart pounding, he stared down in excitement and disbelief at die strange young man who had so fortuitously stumbled into his encampment. And if Fawcett understood his words correctly, this youth just might be the key to what Fawcett had been searching for all these years.
"It's getting late." Denesh, his neck twitching in that annoying nervous tic of his, glanced up at the tattered bits of sky visible through the canopy of trees. "You know how quickly night can come on in this jungle. I don't want to be stuck out here when it does."
"I know." Thomas took another look at his notebook. He had found all die landmarks up to this point, but this next one continued to elude him. Perhaps just a bit farther. Of course, he'd been telling himself that for the better part of die last hour, with no success. With a sigh, he tucked the notebook back into his pocket. They were close. He just knew it. His research had proved to be accurate up to this point, with all the landmarks exactly as they should be, so there was no reason to assume it would not continue to be so. They were on the verge of a discovery that would rock the world.
"I didn't hear anything." The truth was, Thomas was so focused on his thoughts that a truck could have driven over him and he probably would not have noticed until it was too late. "Let's head back. Tomorrow we'll get an earlier start and see how far we can get. We might even break camp and haul the gear along with us. That way we can range even farther."
Denesh's coffee complexion paled at the suggestion, but he nodded. A brilliant graduate student, he was finding the expedition difficult, to say the least, but he had braved it all without complaint. The young man had potential, assuming Thomas could ever get him back out into the field after this experience. He now stood stock-still, his knuckles white as he clutched the hilt of his machete. "I'm not crazy, Professor Thornton, I swear I heard something. It was the strangest sound. Like a giant sheet of sandpaper being dragged across the ground."
"That's probably what it was, then. Congratulations. You've solved the mystery." I le elbowed Denesh in the ribs, coaxing a weak smile. "All right, it's time to test your woods craft. Do you think you can guide us back to camp without getting us hopelessly lost?"
Denesh took up the challenge, and only managed to lead them off course twice, but both times he found the trail again without any help from Thomas. By the time camp was in sight, he had a bit of bounce in his step. The promise of food, no matter how poor, and a camp bed beneath a screen of mosquito netting, seemed like high living in this part of the world.
Thomas sensed something was wrong the moment he entered camp. A quick inspection revealed nothing obvious that might be amiss, but still, things were not right. There was a tension in die air, as if the world were as taut as piano wire.
"I work at a vet's office every summer" Emily added. "Even in the early stages of rabies, if an animal goes into the aggressive state, it's accompanied by other symptoms, like disorientation, trembling, loss of muscle coordination. I saw none of that. That animal was different. We kept the body if you would like to look at it."
They led him to the spot where the opossum lay. Thomas took his time examining the disfigured remains of the small mammal, though, in truth, he doubted he would recognize even the late-stage signs of rabies. He kept his features calm, letting die silence and his own serenity settle the nerves of his upset students. Finally, he gave a diagnosis of "perhaps" and rose to his feet.
"Our notebooks are complete, Doctor Thornton. They have been for two days. Victor took half die remaining supplies. Let's just go home." Emily sounded as if she were on the verge of tears.
The pleading tone grated on his nerves. They had to leave, he understood that, but that did not mean he had to be happy about it. To have come so close and yet failed. It would be another year, at the soonest, before he could return, and that was assuming his sponsors would fund another trip. He had promised results, and they were not going to be happy when he returned empty-handed. "Fine," he said, rising to his feet. "Pack up as much as you can. We'll leave in the morning."