Treasure of the Sun (47 page)

"No, I'm not sure this is where we're supposed to be," Damian mimicked nastily. "Without the map, I can't be sure."

Katherine interrupted her tune. "At least Confite is safe." Vietta snorted, moving restlessly on the stump where she sat.

"That's a relief for me."

"Has the poor senorita got saddle sores?" Grinning offensively at her, Katherine sang, "There grew up a rose from Barbara Alien's breast, and from his a briar-" She faltered.

The map had said, By these signs ye shall know it.

A rose bush, lost in the wilderness, growing where no other rose bush could be seen. Growing against an impenetrable cliff where gold was supposed to be hidden.

Supporting herself with her hands, Vietta rose and stared at that valiant rose bush. "That's it." Vietta pointed with a shaking finger. "That's it."

Impatient with her, Damian ordered, "Don't be so dramatic." "That's it." As if drawn by an irresistible force, she took a step toward the cliff. She stopped with a visible effort. "You go." She waved the gun at Damian. "And you." She waved it at Katherine.

Katherine knew what Vietta wanted. She comprehended the workings of Vietta's mind in the way she now comprehended the workings of Tobias's. The music of the watch wound down, tired with its efforts to make her understand. She slipped it into her watch pocket, lifted her feet from the water and dried them on her skirt. Thrusting her feet in her boots, wincing with the pain, she stalked towards the cliff. Damian was staring at the women as if they'd lost their minds, but he joined Katherine as she picked up the long, twining arms of the rose. She traced to the base of the plant, lifting them aside as best she could. There, beside the thorny bush, was a small hole in the wall with a clock face scratched in the stone below it.

"Tobias," Katherine whispered.

"Madre de Dios, you found it," Damian said in awe.

8 June, in the year of our Lord, I777

In the darkness of the cave, in the deepest; part of the night, I heard the voice of God. Fray Pedro de Jesus says the voice of God is the fount of love and kindness. I tell you here that God speaks in the tones of an avenger to one who has ignored Him. His patience with me is at an end. I trembled in the face of His terrible anger. Yet the dawn brought a relenting of His displeasure, and I crawled out of the cave tempered into a sword of God.

I assured the women of unending protection if they did as I ordered, and the voice of the Lord spoke through me, convincing them to work without a qualm. I assured Fray Lucio that he would not perish, and for the first time his paralyzing fear waned. The women labor with a will, singing the hymns I have taught them. Using the materials which abound in the area, we created a cradle for the gold, much like the manger that cherished the baby Jesus at His birth. Then the difficult work began.

I live with the Lord's assurance of the women's safety, and of Fray Lucio's. I shall ask for no more, nor expect it.

-from the diary of Fray Juan Estevan de Bautista

Chapter 21

Damian used hill boot to scuff loose dirt over the clock face.

"What are you doing?" Vietta's shrill voice betrayed her worry and the end of her patience. "Let me see."

Shrugging, he stepped back. She saw only the hole, not the faint remains of Tobias's scratching. That was enough; her mouth dropped.

"Go in." She stood back from them, but for the first time today, the hand that held the gun shook.

"In that hole?" he asked incredulously. "I won't fit in there."

"Then dig it out. Tobias fit. You will, too. There's gold in there."

"Yes. Gold." He caressed the word.

Damian and Vietta moved with jerky anticipation. They trembled; they spoke too rapidly. The Spaniards' greed made them shine with a kind of light, and Katherine turned her eyes away. Watching them was like watching a starving man eat, and knowing that with incentive, she could be like them.

"I don't want to go in," she murmured.

"You're not going in," Vietta retorted.

Damian swung on her. "Of course Katherine's going in." Vietta backed to the saddlebags that lay beside her horse. She opened the clasp, pulled a spade from a leather loop and tossed it to Damian.

He kicked at it with contempt as it skittered through the dirt beside him. "You came prepared for everything, didn't you? But Katherine must go in with me."

The revolver leveled on Katherine's chest. "No."

"Katherine and I belong together."

Vietta pursed her lips and shook her head. "I don't believe there's any way to escape from the cave, but you'll try to find one if I send the two of you in. This way, Damian, you'll look for the treasure and hurry about it."

"Let me go in," Katherine urged. "Don Damian can stay out here with you."

"No!" Vietta and Damian said simultaneously.

Startled to find themselves in accord, they glanced at each other.

Damian shook his head. "No, Catriona. According to the legends, there are traps inside set by the good fathers."

"Is that supposed to dissuade me?" Katherine asked. "Remember this?" Vietta waggled the pistol. "This will dissuade you. I want you out here. Damian adores you, God knows why, and I can control him with the threat of your death. I don't know if you care enough about him not to escape if offered the chance."

Katherine sank down on a stump, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of her. "I beg your pardon. What kind of person do you think I am?"

"You're an Americana." Vietta condemned her with the title. Damian stripped off his jacket and picked up the shovel. "Be careful not to stumble into the traps. Find the gold first."

Like a draft of winter wind, a faint, chilly smile swept Vietta's face. "Don't come out without the treasure, or I'll shoot her."

Bending his back to the task, he enlarged the hole into the mountain.

"Don Damian," Katherine protested, but he didn't turn around. "You don't believe I'd leave you to your death."

"Of course not. You're too valiant for that. You'd come out fighting like a cougar." He glanced over his shoulder and smiled kindly at her. "This is easy digging. Someone has filled it in not long ago."

Katherine didn't like the way he dismissed her.

"How recently?" Vietta asked in alarm. "Within the week or so?"

Bits of stone fell, slowing his progress, but he steadily outstripped the miniature landslide. "I shouldn't think so. I imagine it was Tobias. But perhaps the gold has already been removed by some other treasure seeker."

She gripped the pistol tighter. "That would be too bad for you and for your lady."

Katherine clenched her teeth, frightened by the dangerous game they all played. "Don Damian, she has to kill us. If we find the gold, if we don't find the gold. She can't let us live to spread this tale around California."

He didn't turn around. "I know that."

"Then why are you doing what she says?" Desperation brought her hands together in a prayerful attitude.

"What's the alternative? Have her shoot you? Jump off the cliff?" He tossed the shovel aside. "I have to try to live, no matter how the odds run against me. The hole's big enough. Before I go in, Vietta, I want to kiss my wife."

"No." Vietta's voice rang flat and plain. "If your love is so undying and you believe in heaven, you'll meet there sooner or later. You can kiss then."

Leaning against the cliff, he looked at Katherine as if he would memorize her. "I hoped for something more physical, at least one more time."

"When you come out," Vietta promised.

He scowled. "If I still have all my parts after a brush with the good fathers."

Katherine thought he'd never looked more like a god or a young Caesar. The bandage on his head contrasted starkly with his tanned face, his midnight hair, the growth of beard on his face. His shirt had been white and crisp; now it was smeared with dirt and the brown stains of wine and blood. Buttons dangled; his hands were bruised. His breeches and boots showed the strength of their construction, enclosing him, clasping him as she longed to.

He had never looked better to her.

The words bubbled to lips before she thought. "Tobias will tell you if there's a trap."

Vietta asked snidely, "Oh, is he communicating with you now?"

Damian glanced down at the spot where the clock face had been, then back at Katherine. "Perhaps he is." He saluted her. "You are indeed everything I ever wanted in a wife." With a lopsided smile just for her, he disappeared into the hole in the wall.

Katherine stared after him, but he was gone. She checked her watch for the time. Five past twelve. She waited, checked it again. Five past twelve. She glanced overhead. That wasn't right; it was long past noon. She wound the clock mechanism, shook it, put it close to her ear and listened to it. The clear, steady ticking had stopped.

Frantically, she wound the music. The tinkling bells were silent. Tobias's watch was dead. Death was everywhere. Death lurked inside the cave; death lurked in the barrel of Vietta's gun.

Yet birds rustled in their nests, ignorant of the drama. Squirrels scurried in the underbrush. Fog clung close to the ground, parting only on the occasional command of the wind to reveal a flash of sunshine.

Hunched over like an old woman, she kept the watch in her hand, warming it with her body heat as if she could revive it. She treated it like some lucky charm that would shield her from harm. Perhaps it could be cleaned; perhaps it would run when the dirt and the sweat that clogged its works were removed. Perhaps.

The silence around her strengthened. Vietta said nothing, moving restlessly back to the edge of the path like a person expecting an ambush. Katherine watched her, saw the occasional fearful glance. At first she thought Vietta worried about Damian leaping out of the cave, but no; Vietta's fear was directed at the cliff that twisted away from the cave entrance and plunged straight down from their feet.

Katherine asked, "Is this the cliff you fell off?"

Vietta jumped and the gun barrel wavered. "No. No, this isn't it."

"You mean you never got this close to the cave before?" "No," she said, a clipped edge to her voice.

Standing, Katherine stretched and wandered with fake interest to the edge of the cliff. "Whoa, it's a long way down."

"Get away from there."

Katherine shrugged. "Maybe I'll fall off and you won't have to worry about pointing that gun at someone."

"I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy," Vietta muttered.

"I suppose I qualify." Katherine scuffed her foot, kicked pebbles over the edge. "There's quite a view." She pointed off into the distance. "See? There's another cliff right across from here. Is that the cliff you fell off?"

"I don't know." With a rush of ferocity, Vietta said, "You don't know what it's like. Falling through the air, screaming all the way. The bushes slap you, the ground rushes up, one big stone waits to stab you."

Her voice thickened, quivered with intensity until Katherine could imagine the terror. She mocked that terror when she said lightly, "Look straight down there! Why, those rocks look like the inside of a cat's mouth."

"I'm not watching you."

Katherine checked. Vietta wasn't. She had her gaze fixed on a tree not far away, as if she could keep Katherine in her peripheral vision and that would be enough. Katherine moved a step closer to the cave. "Those rocks look like sharp, jagged teeth. Imagine how much that would hurt if you fell on them." She took another step.

"You'd better stop that," Vietta said in a fierce decree.

"What? I'm just telling you about the view, since you're too cowardly to look yourself."

"I can see you moving toward the cave."

"Were you wearing petticoats when you went over the edge?"

Katherine chatted. "I bet if you hadn't been wearing petticoats, you would have been broken up even more. Were there a lot of broken bones?" Katherine saw the way Vietta was sweating in the cool of the shifting fog currents, the way she shuddered in periodic tremors.

Vietta's belligerence grew as her authority shrunk. "I'm going to kill you. I want to kill you. I hate you, with your golden hair and your green eyes and your funny accent. It's going to be fun to kill you. It was fun just cutting your throat a little and seeing you faint like I'd really hurt you."