The Black Stallion's Ghost (10 page)

“That's primitive nonsense,” Alec said.

“Perhaps I would think as you do,” the captain answered, “if Odin had not convinced me otherwise. When I arrived in Haiti a month ago, he was dying. I found him on the floor of his hut, his body twisted in agony and his flesh as cold as death. I thought him dead until I opened his eyelids and found him staring at me in mortal terror. He seemed to know who I was, for his twisted body, which I had thought paralyzed, uncoiled with the lithe movement of a snake, and he jumped to his feet.

“I hardly knew what he was up to when he grabbed the figurine from my hand. As I have told you, I often hold it when I'm under any kind of stress or strain. I attempted to get it back from him, telling him who I was, but he continued to look at me in horror, as if he believed some terrible thing about me. It was then, too, I realized that his twisted body was not unlike that of the figurine.

“He began to speak in a kind of monotone, never taking his eyes from mine. I barely understood him. It sounded as if he were warning me of something from which there was no escape. There were only a few intelligible phrases that I could make out and ‘the curse of
Koví,
' repeated over and over again.

“As the moments passed, I found that to understand his mutterings really didn't matter much to me. I had become very dizzy, almost to the point of fainting, which had never happened to me before. It was a shaking experience. Lights seemed to flash from behind my eyes. My ears drummed to the sound of his monotone. I didn't collapse but I came very close to it.

“I don't really know how long it went on. When I
recovered my senses I found myself sitting across from him on the dirt floor, my legs folded as were his, and strangely conversing with him as if we had known each other a long time.

“He seemed to know why I had come to Haiti, more than I understood myself, actually. He knew that I am a professional horseman. How, I do not know, even now. Throughout our conversation, his eyes never lost the expression of looking at me as one marked for death; yet there was compassion in his gaze, too, as if he sincerely wanted to help me—or perhaps it was that he believed we could gain strength from each other.

“It was shortly thereafter that he dug up a metal canister containing most of the old records and drawings you see on the table. He gave them to me, as if wanting to rid himself of them. Perhaps that was so, for I know now they were responsible for his condition when I found him.

“I stayed with him, and during the hour that followed, the terror seemed to leave his body. When I asked him how this thing had come about, he told me that the curse of
Koví
was upon him for having used a horse in the tilling of his land. I laughed at this but was stopped short by his shrill warning that I, being a professional horseman and of the family, would suffer the most horrible death of all if something was not done to help me.

“When I heard this and looked more closely at the drawing of
Koví
in my hands, I felt the greatest fear of my life. I wanted to get away immediately—from Odin, from Haiti, from everything my family represented. But I knew I could not run. It was too late for that. I
held the ancient records of my family in my hands. I had nowhere to go but to pursue the legend of
Koví
. This I knew instinctively and without any doubt, as if I had known always that such a time would come.”

The captain paused and Alec remained silent. The captain's world was one he never would understand. He could call it “primitive nonsense,” but to the captain it was far more than that.

“I tell you this, Alec, not expecting you to understand but hoping that it will help satisfy your curiosity as to why I am here with Odin. The curse of
Koví
is upon us.”

The captain paused again and no breath seemed to stir within him. “In possessing these ancestral records and drawings,” he went on, “I have become involved in what has gone before and, in effect, am held to be an intrinsic part of it. As Fate would have it, I am a horseman not unlike the first of my great ancestors, who betrayed his own people to possess a horse. It is my objective to pursue the legend to the end, to
Koví
himself, if he exists more than in the minds of men, so that I will be freed from the curse of my ancestors.”

The captain studied Alec's face, then picked up the papers from the table. “Do I need to tell you, Alec,” he said, “that according to these records the home of
Koví
is in this area?”

“You're crazy,” Alec said quickly, without thinking.

Surprisingly, no anger showed in the captain's face.

“No, Alec,” he said. “I have all the proof I need. He was seen by my people, and it is written in their
records. There is the drawing, too, of what they saw. Would you like to see it?”

Without waiting for a reply, the captain picked up one of the drawings and handed it to Alec.

Alec was determined not to recoil at the sight of a weird picture, any more than he had when he saw the grotesque figurine. Each was the work of a superstitious mind, producing what it wanted to see. Yet a feeling of terror swept over him as he looked at the drawing.

He had expected to see a drawing of a supernatural monster, half man, half animal,
anything
but the childlike lines that filled the tissue-thin paper. He could make out no central figure. There was just a series of designs, mosaic in composition, depicting eyes and limbs and parts of bodies, some recognizable and others not.

The very air in the room grew cold. The drawing was obviously the work of a person whose imagination was guided by the subconscious.

“What do you see?” the captain asked anxiously. When Alec did not reply, he repeated his question.

It was like looking at a picture puzzle and being asked, “
How many objects can you find? What do you see
?” Alec thought. Only this puzzle conveyed more than one's eyes beheld; it transmitted a cumulative force of
dread
that was almost overpowering. He was seeing it as he was meant to see it, journeying back through time to view the drawing through the eyes and primitive mind of the person who had created it.

“I don't know,” he said finally, although in truth he saw many things. An open mouth spoke soundless
words to him. A misshapen face that could be part of a horse's head became more terrifying and repulsive as he looked at it. A single dark eye stared back at him from the lower left-hand corner. He recognized a piece of mane and a lone hoof, both seeming to move before his eyes. There were muscleless jaws, open and dripping. There were many more, human and animal and those he did not know. All were hidden within the drawing but easy to find if one wanted to see them.

“
Koví
exists in many forms,” the captain said, his mouth twisting in a smile. “His description has varied from generation to generation.”

Alec turned from the drawing to stare blankly at the captain.

“There is a humpbacked hammock just to the southwest of here, and according to the records, that is the home of
Koví,
” the captain continued. “I have been there with Odin during the day. The way is not easy, but much of the area has been drained by the new canals and thereby made accessible by foot. That, too, is one of the signs which I cannot ignore.”

Alec shuddered, finding it hard to comprehend that the captain believed so strongly in his omens and signs that he would risk his life in pursuing them. His fate, as Alec saw it, lay in his ability not to get lost in the saw-grass wilderness or founder in the black bottomless muck.

“And you believe you will find
Koví
there?” he asked incredulously.

The captain shrugged his shoulders. “I do not
know,” he said quietly. “I know only that the signs point that way and I will go.”

There was total resignation in the captain's voice, and for the first time Alec felt sympathy for him.

“But if
Koví
is as dangerous as you believe him to be, won't that mean your death, too?” he asked. He didn't know if he was humoring the captain or if he really wanted to hear the rest of this incredible story of a man's quest for a supernatural being!

“I cannot believe that I was led all this way to die,” the captain said. “If that were true, I would know. But even if I were given such an ominous sign, I would not turn back or change my plans. It is not possible to avoid disaster if it is to come.”

Alec turned away, unable to look at the man any longer. He had no doubt that the captain believed every word he said. The captain cherished his bondage to the dark world of mystery and superstition he had believed in since he was a child, as his people had before him. To anyone else the story of
Koví
was incredible, but to the captain it was true. He would pursue his quest until the end.

Alec remained in his seat while the captain gathered up the papers and returned them to the trunk. The end of the captain's search for
Koví
would come from the natural dangers of the swamp, which punished invaders quickly when mistakes were made.

Alec rose to his feet, wondering if he would be able to break free of the captain's dark world even in the morning. He now had no doubt that he shared the company of a man not completely sane. There was no
other answer to all this, regardless of what sense he had tried to make out of it before.

“If you don't mind, Captain,” he said, “I'll go to bed. I'm tired and I want to get an early start in the morning.”

The man turned to him, his eyes searching. “Certainly I have no objection,” he said kindly. “It has been a long day for you, and I have spoken of too many things that have bewildered you.
Bonsoir
, Alec. We will see each other in the morning.”

“Good night,” Alec said. As tired as he was, he knew it would be a long time before he slept, if sleep came at all. At least he would rest while awaiting the first light of dawn.

Alec stood before the open window of his second-floor bedroom and stared into the night. It was a beautiful evening with a gigantic span of sky spread before him and a full moon just beginning to rise above the saw grass. To the southwest he could see the high humpbacked outline of a hammock which he believed was the captain's objective,
the home of Koví
.

Certainly he did not believe any part of such a fantastic story! Yet he knew that his own vivid imagination made him very vulnerable to the captain's ramblings.

He turned his mind to other thoughts, knowing he'd get no sleep otherwise. The seemingly endless miles of saw grass glistened beneath the star-spangled sky. He saw many hammocks studding the swamp, like islands in a watery wilderness. He stared at the moon and was conscious of the stillness. Such a world belonged more to night than to day, he decided. It was almost like being alone in the universe.

Here in the Everglades, nature would forever triumph
over man, regardless of how many drainage ditches were dug. The swamp was vast and confident in its solitude.

Alec wondered why he had been frightened by the swamp during the day but not at night. Perhaps it was the great silence, that and the deep peace that seemed to accompany it. He listened. Any sound would carry miles with bell-like clarity on such a night. But he heard nothing, no shrill cries of distant birds or receding echoes. He was alone, the vast swampland calmly ignoring his presence or, perhaps, accepting him as a friend.

He believed he would be able to sleep. Leaving the window, he went to his bed and stretched out on it, fully clothed. He closed his eyes and kept his thoughts on the great silence outside the window, waiting for sleep to come. It had been a long, hard day and he was very tired.

He didn't know how long he lay there or, actually, whether or not he had slept, when he saw a pair of eyes staring at him in the darkness. They were startlingly cold and dark—like obsidian. He believed it was the captain and asked quickly, “What are you doing here?”

He attempted to get up but found he could not rise from the bed. He struggled but could not move. It was then he realized that he must be asleep and dreaming. But no dream had ever been so vivid to him before.

He began struggling again and found he was able to wiggle his body across the bed but not rise from it. Nor could he tear his gaze away from the eyes that held him. He believed there was a living presence in the room with him but he did not know whether it was the
captain or not. He wanted only to rise and run, yet he could not. And try as he might, he could not wake up to rid himself of the horrible dream.

He opened his mouth but nothing came forth although he shouted as loud as he could. He continued struggling, working his body from one end of the bed to the other in an attempt to rouse himself from his dream. Always the eyes followed him, moving with him, holding him.

He was able to think with a clarity he had not thought possible in a dream. He believed his subconscious was playing tricks on him, recalling in his sleep the captain's unwavering hypnotic stare. He ceased struggling and sought to make out the face behind the eyes. He lay very still.

He stared into the depth of the darkness. An image of terror was vague but there! He made out a misshapen head with no distinguishable features, known yet unknown. He believed that the horror which had seemed a dream was not a dream but
reality
! The thought brought superhuman strength to his limbs and he tried to break the invisible bonds that held him to the bed while the misshapen head hovered directly above him. His lips moved but no sound came. A sweet, sickening odor filled his nostrils. He threw back his head, gasping from the overpowering scent and his efforts to break away. He twisted, squirmed, seeking escape.

Madness possessed him and he found that he had the strength to heave his body forward. His eyes bulged in their sockets as he sought to raise his hands from the bedsheets to strike back at whatever was above him. He
succeeded in lifting his hands and, fighting for breath, tried to protect himself. Words poured forth from his lips for the first time. He did not know what he was saying, nor did he recognize his voice, which was distorted and unnatural. His hands sought to seize the fleshless face!