The Legend of the Phantom (4 page)

In their version of the
rest of the myth, immortal ball-playing twins were beheaded by the gods of death. One had his head hung on a cacao tree. The magical head managed to mate with a woman who later became the mother of twin gods. Those two twin gods defeat the gods of death and then end up in the sky as the sun and the moon. 

“They believe we are the representations of those two, Kit,” Caribo said
intuitively.

Kit chuckled to himself. “I wonder which one of us is which,”
he sarcastically whispered back. “After all, we’re supposed to be twins.”

“I suspect they believe you are the sun, being the palest, while I am the moon, in representation of the dark,” responded Caribo.

“We need to work on your understanding of sarcasm,” responded Kit.

“What…” started Caribo, but he lost his train of thought as
they were interrupted by the old high priest as he presented Caribo with a large mug of frothy something.

The drink was the drink of the gods,
of the cacao tree, brought to earth as a remembrance of the deeds of the Gods. It was made up of coarsely ground paste of cacao beans… mixed with spices, water and chilies. Kit shortly was presented with the same drink.

The whole of the stadium waited expectantly as they watched Kit and Caribo.

Kit looked around and said to Caribo, “Well, let’s make it look good. Drink up my friend…”

Together as one
, they took a long swallow of that spicy, yet bittersweet, cold and frothy drink. The foam traced a moustache across Caribo’s upper lip.

A loud cheer echoed forth. The drink left a decided aftertaste that Caribo wasn’t
particularly fond of, but Kit could stomach it.

However, the ceremony wasn’t over.

Two artisans immediately came forward as Kit and Caribo emptied their drinking mugs. As others whisked the mugs away and they turned them upside down to show that they were indeed drunk, the artisans moved in; presenting them with gifts:

F
or Caribo he found two wrist protectors made of fine metal and inlaid with gold and stones, designed to be worn in battle or ceremony. Caribo was delighted with them.

For Kit, the gifts were decidedly smaller
… yet of more intrinsic value. Two rings.

Each ring consisted of two bands fused together into one, made of differen
t material. The inner band was a closed band made of a special mixture of gold and other metals that allowed it to be sized to the wearer. The outer band was designed to stay somewhat open and made of indestructible metal that fell from the heavens. The face of each ring was made of that same heavenly material: a meteorite.

The one was in the shape of a skull
; intended, as the high priest declared to the onlookers, “to cause fear in the hearts of your enemies”.

T
he other in the shape of Kit’s crossed espada roperas, the fore-runners of the rapier, “as your sign of protection to be given to those you bestow it upon”.

Kit slipped the death’s head
ring onto the ring finger of his right hand; and then onto the ring finger of the left hand he placed the other.

The crowd erupted in joy once again, and the whole of the place celebrated long into the night.

Chapter
5

The following day Kit and Caribo decided it was time to leave. They made their wish known to the high priest who insisted that they stay. The high priest made it very clear that the city was theirs to do with as they desired, but in the end they convinced him that their desire was to leave. The old man eventually gave in, seeing that he could not dissuade them, and made arrangements to supply them with everything they may need on their journey.

As
Kit and Caribo finally left the walls of the city they saw that a new carving had been placed there at the gates, in reverence to them: that of crossed swords, the sign of their protection.

“I’m going to miss that city,” stated Kit as they launched their craft into the waters of the Caribbean.

“As will I, my friend,” agreed Caribo, “providing that I am not trussed up for sacrifice again,” he added.

Kit laughed as he grabbed up his paddle. “True,” he agreed.
“I prefer you alive than trussed up …and cut up.” Smiling at his friend’s discomfort with the conversation, he placed the end of his paddle into the water.

They continued with their heavily laden craft up the coastline. They noticed that the land was shifting, indicating that they were sailing around some sort of peninsula. The land began to slope south of them as they traveled west. Then the coast started to drift away, sloping
northward, and they turned their craft to follow the shore. They passed several coastal cities, but they had been told the Golden City was inland, set on a large lake. So they passed by the cities, without so much as a look back.

When the land
was once again west of them, they started looking for the river that would bring them to the City of Gold. Despite Caribo’s reservations of finding it, Kit was determined to search out the city so that his uncle could visit it upon his return. “Besides,” he told Caribo, “we don’t need to enter the city… I just want to view it from afar.”

Not one to turn down adventure,
even though the result may be death on entering the city, Caribo agreed.

Not too soon thereafter,
as they traveled up a smaller river that seemed to generally head west, they came across a smaller, less ornate city than that of the Maya. This city was made mostly of wood huts; rather than of stone. The only building of any substance was a small pyramid, covered in silver and jade. It stood in the center of the village.

The city itself was not visible from the river and would never have been seen by the two of them had it not been for the pyramid. Thus thanks to the dense foliage and the curvature and rolling beauty of the terrain they were able to get quite close without being seen.

Being forewarned by the Maya of more northern Aztec tribes, they were leery of making themselves known.

Kit and Caribo
decided to wait until nightfall before continuing on their journey. As they had found a nearby cave to spend the night in on the riverbank, that they were able to drag the canoe into, they decided that they would spend some time first spying upon the small city’s inhabitants that flourished nearby.

That night
in the small Aztec city there was a great ceremony. Fires were lit all around the village, and a large bonfire was burning at the top of the small pyramid. Before the temple was a large stone slab, with a stone bowl at its base. From their vista the view was incredible.

It was Caribo
who noticed the prisoners first. One man and one girl. The man was beaten and appeared to be a prisoner of war. The girl looked to be drugged, but otherwise unharmed.

He pointed them out silently to Kit, who nodded to Caribo to show that he had seen them too.

Turning to whisper in the other’s ear, Kit said, “Let’s break them free if we can.”

Caribo disagreed.
“We should leave them be,” Caribo told Kit. “The Aztec are evil men. This will end badly for us. It will be our blood that will be spilt,” he warned him, remembering his own near-sacrifice.

However
, Kit was not willing to leave any prisoners with a group that enjoyed the spilling of blood. Caribo attempted again to sway Kit’s mind, reminding him that the natives know the land and would surely catch them no matter how well the canoe was hidden… but in the end he could not sway Kit in the slightest.

Caribo finally agreed to wait and see what would happen
. However, he would not consign himself to help aside from staying as lookout.

While
Kit worked on an escape plan to help the prisoners, below them a wooden drum reverberated the air. Firelight cast eerie shadows as dancers swayed faster and faster.

As quickly as they began,
the drums stopped. Within the ominous silence, two guards pushed past the dancers and grabbed the beaten man. They cut the cords that bound him to the waiting pole, but not the cords around his wrists.

T
hey forcibly dragged him to the table while a third caught one of his legs. He tried to get out, twisting this way and that, kicking with the free leg, but eventually he was tied into place, his back against the cold stone slab, his eyes wide with fear.

A grandly feathered figure approached him, wearing a mask upon his head that resembled a large cat of some kind. Then chanting something
that Kit and Caribo couldn’t make out, he unsheathed a large jade knife. The chanting was taken up by the rest of the tribe and soon the noise escalated until the sounds of the jungle were drowned out.

“It is too late for him,” Caribo
pointed out. “We should leave,” he smoothly restated.

Kit ignored
his remark. Instead, he supplanted his own, “Ok. I’m going to get her,” he said to Caribo.

Caribo caught hold of his shoulder as Kit started to stand.
“Think about it Kit. This can only end in heart-ache and death,” Caribo tried to reason.

“That it may, old friend. But not for myself. I know though that if I do nothing, that girl,”
as he pointed to the girl below, “will die. And I will always have the guilt of knowing that I could have done something and did not.”

Caribo let go, nodding his head. H
e knew that there was no stopping Kit. In the end, he clapped Kit’s shoulder and simply said, “I will be waiting here for your return, my friend.”

Kit understood.

While Caribo watched, Kit disappeared into the darkness.

The tribe was enthralled with the ritual that was going on before them
; so much so that they paid no attention to the drugged girl. It was easy enough for Kit to get close to her.

As Kit approached, his focus was diverted
from the ritual and the guards to her perfect silhouette. He sucked in a lungful of air that he held as he beheld her. The light shone on her figure, and suggested a beautiful form, one that excited him in a way that he never knew anything could. But the form was only a silhouette; the flickering fire light hid her in shadow with her back to Kit.

Kit
quickly stole to her side, worrying that he was making too much noise; worrying that at any moment he would be discovered. The reality was that any sound of his approach was drowned out by the chanting from the natives; he needn’t have been concerned.

The two guards that were guarding her had stepped in front of her to better see the ritual that was transpiring on the altar stone in front
of them. The opening left Kit with a few seconds to make his move. He silently pulled out his espada.

Like
the silent footfalls of a cat seeking out its prey, Kit advanced. He slid forward and before the girl even realized he was behind her, clamped his hand over her mouth, pulling her toward him.

Her eyes widened as she saw the pale man at her side.
Her heart began to beat wildly as she saw what she perceived to be the most handsome and gorgeous man-creature imaginable… one that left her previous ideals far behind. Yet there was only one reason someone would be there to save her… he must have been sent from her father. Her imagination flew with the beating of her heart.

What she was thinking didn’t matter
nor register to Kit at that moment. He was too occupied with the task at hand. Using his espada as a knife, he quickly sliced the bands that held her. Then as he reached down to help her up, to Kit’s annoyance, she fainted.

The girl’s
sleeping body rolled over and Kit froze where he knelt. The moment, like the sound of his arrival passed unnoticed to the throng as they focused their full attention on the sacrifice before them.

Looking around he relaxed and brought his attention once more
to the prostrate form lying at his feet. Despite the failed light, the shadows, and the obvious air of gloom that hovered around them, Kit was mesmerized.

She was beautiful, almost angelic in her looks.
The dark hair, the olive skin, the long lashes that outlined the large eyes all were in perfect balance to each other.

It took
him a moment to compose himself, a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity, and then quickly to Caribo’s relief, while he watched the affair from above, Kit lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder as he backed back down the path into the edge of the jungle.

The darkness surrounded him as he struggled with his
load, not wanting to lose speed yet having to compromise with the weight of the inert form and the lack of visible light. Off into the darkness he continued until he passed the path that he had descended.

Quickly
, he realized his error and backtracking a bit found the path that led up the hill. He climbed steadily with his burden, away from the crowds, toward the hiding place of Caribo.

As
Kit arrived at Caribo’s side, the chanting stopped. Something about the quiet drew their attention back to the bound man. Kit gently set the girl down and turned to watch, drawn by the intensity of the air around them.

There, the decorated bearer of the
jade knife purposely held his weapon high and shouting one last word, that was lost to the cheer of the crowd, and then plunged the weapon into the man’s chest.

The man screamed and the crowd joined in.

Swiftly the Aztec plumed murderer plunged his free hand into the man’s chest where the knife held it open. Dripping of blood, he removed his hand from the cavity and held the victim’s still beating heart high above his head. The man on the table turned his head and followed the arc of his own heart for a second or two before finally succumbing to death.

Caribo called out the name of his deity as
Kit echoed his words with his own thoughts.

“We must get out of here,”
Caribo hoarsely whispered to Kit, not able to tear his eyes from the gruesome sight.

Kit
couldn’t agree more.

Scooping up the girl into his arms, Kit and Caribo started back for the cave. As they were
stealing away the obvious departure of the girl was noticed. With a wild yell, runners were sent out into jungle night to search for her.

Kit tried to hurry.

Kit’s arms were tired from the climb and the added burden of trying to run with a woman cradled in his arms was wearing on him. He tossed the girl upon his shoulders instead. Caribo, meanwhile had grabbed up his pack, and together they raced through the night in search of the path that led to the riverbank… to their cave… their place of refuge.

Through the dark of the jungle forest they ran as they
tried to put distance between themselves and their pursuers.

Caribo was now in front as he tried to help Kit over an especially tricky part of the path.
As he hurried forward, a root from some dark tree caught Kit’s foot. Kit felt himself slip as his burden shifted across his shoulders. He stumbled and fell into Caribo.

They fell heavily
together, the girl’s weight pulling them down as Kit’s sore muscles strained to keep her aloft.

In the course of the hard tumble
they came to rest under the canopy of a large bush; arms, legs and branches of the bush all intertwined. The pursuit was nearing. Kit tried to get untangled and realized he couldn’t see a thing. Then the reason dawned on him. The bush they had fallen into had bounced back into shape, and covered them, which hid them from view.

Drawing back the thick wave of bra
nches on the far side of the path, near the back side of the bush, a small opening into the earth was evident. A cave. Safety. Kit whispered to Caribo, “We go in there.” Kit was too sore to go on.

H
aving need of a safe place of refuge, Caribo agreed and gathered up some small rocks. He threw them within the small opening. Meanwhile, Kit prepared his sword for any unexpected surprise. Nothing appeared. Without hesitation Kit slid inside.

Caribo pass
ed in the girl, who by this time was finally awake. Kit reassured her that she was safe, not thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t be able to understand him yet. She looked around wildly and tried to beat him with her small fists, however, as Kit held her flailing arms, his soothing voice and the emotional drain from so many hard experiences in the last few days so overcame her that she shortly melted into his arms into a deep sleep.