CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (63 page)

*
       
*
       
*

D’Molay opened his eyes and instinctively thrashed against his bonds. He was tied to a tree, surrounded by the other four Mayan warriors. Fury rushed through him, much of it fueled by anger at himself for being captured. He prayed that none of the scouting parties had found Aavi, that she could find someone else to help her. Unless the Fates decided to favor his escape, Aavi would have to go on without him.
 
Against a nearby tree, he saw his bow and quiver of arrows; his knife was gone, perhaps lost in the fight.

The Mayans sat a short distance away, talking. From the tone of their voices and the way that they gestured, D’Molay guessed they were deciding what to do with him. One of them looked his way and, seeing he was conscious, moved to confront him. The man had a hard, muscular body that was the color of tanned leather. He was inked with tattoos in the Mayan style. D’Molay sought out his eyes, which projected an angry, distrusting stare. Crossing his arms with his sandaled feet planted firmly in the soft earth, the Mayan towered over D’Molay with a commanding presence.

He spoke in the common tongue with a broken accent. “We wonder who you are, and why you have tracked us. You will tell me.”

D’Molay hesitated, pondering how best to answer that question. Finding them had been partly by chance; then he had followed them under the assumption that they were seeking Aavi.

“I was just curious and then you attacked me, that’s all.”

The muscular man made a fist and rammed it into D’Molay’s gut. The strike was swift and powerful, but D’Molay had seen it coming when the Mayan pulled his arm back for the blow. He’d been able to tighten his stomach just in the nick of time, but the hit still slammed him back against the tree, leaving him pained and breathless. He slumped over, gasping.

“You killed one of us and have dishonored me with your lie. Now you will tell why you followed us and who sent you,” the Mayan hissed at him.

“No one sent -” Before he could finish, the warrior backhanded him across the face. A trickle of blood ran from the side of D’Molay’s mouth after the blow knocked his head hard to the side.

“Another lie. Why did you follow us? Answer true, or I will remove your eyes with your own knife.” The man reached behind his back and pulled D’Molay’s cherished weapon from his belt, holding the point right under his captive’s left eye. D’Molay could feel the tip of the sharp blade pressing into his flesh and had no doubt that this man would do exactly as he threatened. Then his interrogator withdrew and stood awaiting his answer.
 

“This is the truth. I was travelling with the goddess Mazu in search of a flying creature. She went to your realm to find it and I haven’t heard from her since she left. I thought I might learn something of her fate by watching you.” D’Molay spoke quickly, aware that at any moment a cut or blow might cut off his words.

One of the other Mayans repeated Mazu’s name and a string of syllables D’Molay couldn’t understand. “Quetzalcoatl nuy-sek canna tahno Mazu gom Chaac.”
 

Upon hearing this, the leader stepped back and crossed his arms again. “Mazu gom Chaac?”
 
He stared at D’Molay as though he were making a decision. “So now we hear truth. The gods must have guided us to you. This means we have to take you back to them. I know they will want to learn more about you, and use you to get this Mazu to tell more too. She is a goddess, but you . . . you are just a man. If she is your friend, she will not want to see you hurt.”
 
He leaned down to poke D’Molay hard in the chest with his index finger to further emphasize the fact. The Mayan held the knife menacingly while D’Molay could only wish it were his again.

As the leader barked out orders to the other Mayans, the pain in D’Molay’s stomach and back slowly started to fade, allowing him to focus on his options. If the Mayans split up, his odds of escape would improve. He hoped their mission was too important for all of them to drag him back to their realm. After huddling together in intense discussion, two of the men left the campsite and headed into the woods. The one who had pummeled him then sat down cross-legged on the ground about forty feet away. He seemed to be making or preparing something, but it was out of D’Molay’s sight. The remaining man busied himself collecting wood for a fire. D’Molay experienced a surge of pure dread, fearing that the Mayans were planning to burn him alive. He struggled against the unyielding ropes that pinned him securely against the tree, desperate to free himself. A few minutes later, the others returned carrying the body of their fallen comrade, placing it near the pile of wood.

A ceremony began. The leader rose from his work to reveal he had prepared several small bowls of dark liquids. As his men chanted, he painted symbols on the corpse. D’Molay could smell some kind of oil in the mix. He watched with sick fascination, too tense to close his eyes and shut out the scene.
 

Behind him, he heard something rustling in the bushes. A voice whispered out of the darkness. “It’s me. I’ve been waiting until they left you alone.”

“Aavi, by the gods! What are you doing here?” D’Molay hoarsely whispered back. He was truly shocked, overwhelmed with a mix of joy that she was all right and dread that she was putting herself in danger.
 
“You have to run, before they find you.”

She crawled closer and he felt her hands touch his as she fumbled with the ropes. “I-I don’t know how these work. How does this come off?”

“Do you still have our travel bag?
 
Get the small knife.” D’Molay spoke barely above a whisper, nervously watching the Mayans who were all on their knees now, chanting and singing.

“I’m looking …” A moment later, Aavi returned with the knife. D’Molay often used it for gutting fish and skinning game. He kept it sharp, and it would do the job.

“Cut the ropes between my hands, but be careful not to cut me.” For anyone else that would be a statement of the obvious, but with Aavi, he didn’t want to take the chance she might not know better and cut his wrists.

Aavi carefully held the knife and dragged it across the ropes. She wiggled it, prying, trying different angles. “I can’t make it cut,” she whispered back to him.

D’Molay bit back a frustrated curse. It was at times like this when Aavi’s complete lack of experience with common objects reminded him just how different she was from everyone else. “Just put the knife in my hands. Then I want you to run away from here and try to find Mazu.”
  

He felt the hilt of the knife slide into his right hand. “But what about you?”

“Never mind about me. Just go,” he said as forcefully as he could whisper. One of the Mayans was looking back to check on him. D’Molay stared straight ahead and stopped cutting his ropes so no movement could be seen. He felt her hand on the side of his arm as she gave it a tender squeeze. “I won’t leave you, not this time.” She withdrew back into the brambles.

“Aavi?”
 
There was no reply. He quickly cut his bonds, but remained at the tree, knowing he had to make his next move count.

The Mayans placed their comrade on the woodpile and coaxed the fire into great flames. D’Molay gagged on the odor of burning flesh, and as if for a penance D’Molay could not help but stare into the flames as the man he had killed blackened and split. The fire seemed to mockingly call to him and he simultaneously felt a strange attraction and horrendous fear. Then something even more visceral caught his attention - and that of the Mayans. Aavi walked into the campsite, completely naked.

She stood illuminated at the far end of the burning pyre, her white satiny skin glowing in the firelight. She looked into the eyes of each Mayans before turning to run back into the forest, her long blonde hair flying behind her like a trailing flame. For just a second the Mayans stood stunned and frozen, but as she slipped out of sight they leapt to pursue, eager for the chase and the prize that waited for them at the end of it.

Aavi felt the biting sting of brambles on her bare feet and the slap of branches against her sides but she did not care. She just wanted to draw them away, to give D’Molay the chance to escape. Her guilty thoughts pursued her as intently as the Mayans. Aavi was convinced she had brought all this suffering on D’Molay, and no longer cared what happened to her as long as he was safe. Behind her, she could hear the men closing in. She had hoped her head start would allow her to outrun them, but having never been chased before she had no idea how fast she was capable of running. She only knew to run as fast as she could, and to try to avoid the trees.

A branch swiped hard across her face, but she kept moving forward into the darkness. Aavi managed to dodge trees as they loomed up in front of her out of the darkness. She could hear the Mayans’ heavy breathing behind her now. They were very close.
 

“Huet tara, Quxet!”

One of the men dived at Aavi. The two of them tumbled to the ground, barely missing a tree.
 
Aavi was so surprised by the fall that the Mayan was on top of her and had her pinned to the ground before she could react. She tried to kick and squirm free, but the man held her fast and just laughed at her.

“Tumlac! Tumlac!” the man called out. Within seconds, the rest of the Mayans appeared to surround Aavi and their comrade. He stood and pulled Aavi up, proudly presenting his catch. One of the men was carrying a flaming torch and by its light she could see them all grinning at her strangely. They groped and prodded her and all started to laugh. Aavi stood there helplessly, shivering in the cool night air. The leader stepped close and put his hands on her shoulders, then gruffly pushed her down onto her knees. She dropped into a seated position on the grass and looked up at the men, unsure what they would do to her next. She knew that the longer she could interest them, the more time D’Molay would have to get far away. The one who had caught her shoved Aavi onto her back and climbed atop her again. She looked at him with eyes wide open in fear and confusion as he grinned menacingly at her. Aavi could see that all the men had that odd look on their faces she had seen so often.

“Tumlac consca, ha!”
 
The Mayan laughed. He put his hands on her breasts and squeezed them as two of the other men grabbed her legs and spread them apart. Aavi struggled and screamed until the man put his hand over her mouth. He pushed her head down as the others held her legs up off the ground. Aavi could do little but squirm and try to see what they were doing through the fingers pressing against her face.

Suddenly the man stiffened, the unwelcome hand falling away allowing Aavi to see the blank look on his face. Slumping forward, he fell on top of her.
 
Aavi screamed again as she saw the arrow sticking out of the man’s throat. Blood started to pour from his wound and gush out onto Aavi’s chest and shoulders.

Faster than any of the others could react, more arrows flew through the air. Two of the Mayans made it into the foliage for cover, while Aavi remained pinned down under the first victim of the arrow attack. Trapped under him, she could not see much of what was going on, but could hear yelling and the sound of arrows whizzing by. Aavi turned her head to one side, where she saw another Mayan had been killed. “I didn’t want anyone to die!” she whined.

Running footsteps approached and the heavy body was rolled off her. “Aavi!”

“It’s you!” she beamed as D’Molay reached down to help her up. Aavi was shaking but his mere presence gave her a sense of warmth and safety. He pulled her up to a standing position and she leaned herself against him.

D’Molay counted them both lucky that he had interrupted her attackers, but this was no time to celebrate. “I don’t know if I got them all.” He picked up the dropped torch quickly putting it out. There was no reason to make it easy for any survivors to see them. Aavi clung to him as they stepped around the bodies in the darkness.

“Did you have to kill them?”

“I’m sorry Aavi; I couldn’t let them hurt you. Why did you take off all your clothes?”

“I remembered how the men looked at me at the slaver’s and I thought -” As she spoke, a figure darted from the darkness and shoved against them. Aavi stumbled backwards into a tree. The impact took her breath away and she fell onto the soft earth.

“Rukta chagga!” yelled the Mayan as he grappled with D’Molay. The two of them fought in almost complete darkness. Aavi could hear them grunting and rolling in the grass, then the sound of punches. For just a second, she thought she saw a flash of metal in the dark.