Quest (Dane Maddock Adventures) (2 page)

“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 it, and should our city fall, as I fear it will, you will perhaps be the only living man with that knowledge.”

Aderba’al remembered the 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 tale.

“The ship on which you will travel carries…”

148 B.C.E.

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 the 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, the 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 see 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.”

1922

“Colonel! You must come quickly!” Adam poked his head into the tent, his excited eyes shining, in contrast to his dirty face. “Someone has come to the camp!”

Percy Fawcett looked up from his book and frowned. “Tell me, would you open the 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, it 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 the 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 the half of it.”

Fawcett listened closely. The language was an odd one. Some of the 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 the 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 the 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.

Thomas had never felt so hot in his entire life. The heat was sweltering, unrelenting, and scarcely a breeze stirred beneath the canopy of green. Creeping, clutching foliage dogged his every step. And the insects! They were an unrelenting cloud, biting and stinging him, and invading his every orifice. Civilization’s finest insect repellent had waged a losing battle against the onslaught.

“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 the 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 the 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.

“Did you hear that?” Denesh shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking all around. He looked like a nervous bird, his head jerking to and fro as his eyes probed the jungle.

“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.” He 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 the air, as if the world were as taut as piano wire.

Derek and Emily appeared from the shadows on the far side of the encampment and hurried to meet him. They both appeared agitated.

“Doctor Thornton, I did not sign up for this trip only to be stranded in the middle of nowhere.” Emily’s freckled face was bright red, but whether from sunburn or anger he could not tell.

“Wait, what are you talking about? We’re not stranded.” The psychological toll this place took on travelers sometimes caused a person to crack. He hoped this was not the case with Emily, who, despite having a face and body that screamed ‘delicate flower,’ had been a trooper up to this point.

“Victor is gone.” Her voice trembled as she spoke and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. “He said he was going to hike back to the lagoon, take one of the boats, and go home.”

The news struck Thomas like a punch to the gut. If their guide was gone, that left him alone to get three students back to civilization. He supposed he could do it, but this meant the expedition was over. Damn. Another day or two might have done it. With serious effort, he regained his composure. Under the circumstances, it would not do to appear rattled in front of the others.

“But we still have the other boat, so we aren’t stranded.” He stared through the trees in the direction of the lagoon, as if his eyes could penetrate the miles of tangled greenery and see their remaining boat, their only path back to civilization, waiting there beside its dark waters. “But why did Victor just up and leave? Did he say anything?”

Emily gave Derek a look that said,
“I told you so,”
and Derek nodded.

“I think it’s been coming on for a few days, Professor,” Denesh said. “He didn’t like it here, and kept telling us it was a bad place and that we should not stay. He knew it would do no good to say anything to you, though. You were so focused on whatever it is you’re still doing out here.” He held his hands out to his sides in a gesture of confusion. “I do think Victor was on to something, though. There’s a wrongness about this place, and it’s got us all spooked.”

“Superstitious nonsense.” Thomas was embarrassed that he had been so focused on his search that he had failed to notice that one of his team was on the verge of abandoning the group. “He got into your heads, that’s all. He fed you tales about spooky stuff, and it took root in your psyche. Don’t let it control you.”

“It’s not just that, Professor,” Derek said. “I had to kill an opossum today.”

“Chestnut-striped,” Emily chimed in, proving she had been paying attention to her field guide.

“An opossum,” Thomas repeated, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. He could not begin to fathom where Derek was headed with this.

“I know how it sounds,” Derek protested. “You had to be there, I suppose, but it’s not just that I killed it. I
had
to kill it. It came marching into camp in the middle of the day, which is strange enough in itself, and it went straight for our food. It ignored me when I tried to shoo it away. Then I kicked it and it…” He swallowed hard. “It attacked me. Turned on me, made this crazy noise, and sprang up like a mountain lion or something. It tore up my pants leg, but I got hold of it by the tail before it could bite me. Even then, it kept snarling at me.”