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  He pulled his tunic close about himself, as now that he had stopped moving, the biting wind and cold became urgent. Seeking some respite, he moved in close to the cliff face and sought a spot to shield him. Tired, he moved into the most comfortable spot he could at the base.

  As he attempted to rest his eyes, he caught sight of a horizontal crack with a miniscule gleam of light farther in. Wondering if it was but the fires of the mountain, he focused and became sure that it was not fire but an oil lamp upon the wall of a hidden interior chamber.

  A small ripped piece of silk from Coco’s girdle protruded from the seam and thus afforded the barest edge in keeping what would have been an ingenious hidden door invisible.

  Launching to his feet, he ran his fingers over the cold stone, searching for the hidden release. A curious pivot along the ground proved the catch and he swung the perfectly balanced door in and shut it behind him. Aware that the blast of air might alert the inhabitants, he had no choice but to come in and attack. Always, when there is nothing else to do, he reminded himself, you must attack.

  The intense warmth inside the tunnel hit him like the flames of a bonfire compared to the cold of the cruel mountainside. Whether it was by getting out of the winds or heat from a volcanic heart, he was not sure.

  Crudely carved steps led down into a black abyss, but somewhere far down yet another winding passage, a soft glow revealed the existence of another lamp.

  Straining his ears, Gathelaus thought he heard a low mutter or chant of deep bass voices and the lusty throb of kettle drums. But his ears still rang from the outside and he was not sure.

  The tunnel reached up to at least twice the height of Gathelaus’s head. It was broad enough for three men to walk side by side as well. Moving cautiously down the steps, Gathelaus’s instincts had him coiled to react in an instant to whatever threat might present itself. The tunnel wound down steeply, but upon reaching almost twenty spans, it flattened and curved along, snakelike. Another torch at the bottom granted enough light that Gathelaus saw large footprints on the dusty ground. Some were as men, but a few were as large as the greatest of apes that lived in Valchiki or Bhustan; these measured nearly twice the length of Gathelaus’s own large foot.

  “By the gods,” he swore.

  A blast of air pressure told him someone had opened the hidden doorway above. Glancing about for anywhere to conceal himself, he was struck at how truly bare the tunnel was. It appeared to be half natural lava tube and half carved out by hand. There was nothing to do but race on to a point where perhaps he could ambush these men. If they were men.

  Rounding down the passage, he came to a section that held jagged natural cracks with a few places of concealment. A shallow ledge at the height of his calves twisted up, and there was a fissure he could just barely squeeze into to wrap himself in darkness. He had just wedged himself in, when the slap of broad heavy feet sounded from around the corner. The heavy tread masked the lighter step of men who strode past his hiding place first. Gathelaus counted four men with dusky brown feet and similar enough sandals to those in Tezomoc’s caravan—by the enormous feet of a creature that dwarfed even the tracks he had seen earlier. Its skin was dark grey and looked rough like a rhinoceros’ hide. Shaggy grey fur flowed down its calves and incredibly hairy ankles, but the sole of its foot was bare and man-like. Black nails sprouted from each of its toes and its arms were long and hung at its side just enough for Gathelaus to see the equally black, sharp talons upon its strong dexterous fingers. It paused a moment, directly beside Gathelaus’s hiding spot. The great inhalation of breath through its massive nose made Gathelaus believe he’d been caught, but a shout from one of the men ahead caused the monster to turn and follow them along the corridor. Nearby, a door shut.

  He stayed there for a long moment, waiting to be sure they hadn’t lain in wait for him to appear. What was that thing? At least it appeared to be intelligent enough to do as men bid it. One of those beasts must have been what he saw tear a slave in half back down on the mountain.

  Edging forward, Gathelaus found the door they had passed through. It was made of wooden planks banded together with ornate copper. He could see between the planks. But once he passed through, he saw that the doors were but a façade for the true doorway which was great slabs of stone and mounted on an intricate system of massive counter levers, pulleys and ropes that could make the door impassable. If the thing was shut, no one could ever batter it down from the other side of the tunnel. This could be a most secure refuge if needed. Beyond a short hallway lined with long draping curtains lay what looked like a grand gallery with many lights and folk inside celebrating.

  This underworld palace must surely be the realm of these gods of the mountain, but now it was clear enough that those who benefited from the fear and such were not gods but very human opportunists. Gathelaus swore to himself and pushed the door open just enough to slide through and creep forward. He clung to the shadows and crossed warily to a section of long curtains beside the gallery’s entrance.

  Over two dozen priests, servants of the one called Cuauhtémoc, stood in a circle surrounding a number of the plundered slaves—including Coco. Five great hairy men stood by as well. They were thickly set, with long arms and garish faces, long teeth like tusk’s leered upward from their lower jaws. They had yellow eyes deeply set in their thick skulls but there was an air of intelligence along with the animal in them. These would not be simple beasts to slay or trick like a guard dog, these would be the worst of foes imaginable.

  They seemed in a trance and Gathelaus wondered at how these priests held sway over such powerful brutes.

  There was a continual jabbering of the priests and Gathelaus could understand none of it. But he could tell they were readying something. A sacrifice?

  He crept through a curtained alcove to get a better look at the grand gallery and saw now that, at the far end and upon a raised dais rested a massive statue carved of obsidian that resembled the great ape men. It sat upon its haunches with an imperious scowl on its face and upon the statue’s brow was a great yellow jewel, set like the foremost spire of a crown. The jewel, as large as a man’s hand, was shaped like a teardrop. Lights from the myriad oil lamps danced from its multifaceted face and reflected off the walls.

  A brass gong sounded with an ear shattering shudder and the ape men sat in repose just behind the captured slaves. A trio of priests pulled upon a rope and a slice of moonlight shone through some aperture cut into the mountain far above.

  Gathelaus guessed that it must be magnified many times over with a crystal, for no regular light of the moon could be so intense.

  It struck the jewel on the stone god’s face and refracted outward in a dazzling display. Five of more than a dozen beams shone directly into the eyes of the ape men and held them transfixed.

  The high priest called out in an intelligible tongue and slowly the ape men stood. The light from the jewel rose with them individually, though by standing they were at least five to six feet taller than when they sat upon the floor.

  The gong sounded again, and a squealing girl was taken from the clutch of slaves and carried to the fore where a sacrificial table was set beneath the glowing gaze of the stone ape god.

  Four of the priests held her by arm, leg and foot as a fifth stood at the head of the table with a long obsidian dagger accented with turquoise along a snake-like hilt.

  With even a club, Gathelaus was confident he could cut down the score of priests, but what of those monstrous ape men? With their humongous size, they had to have the strength of a titan—maybe greater Their size was incredible, and their relative strength would be greater than a titan’s! What could he do against one, let alone five? The ape men appeared to still be in a trance. If he attacked would they suddenly become aware?

  Whatever fate was about to take the young girl would soon follow for Coco. Gathelaus gritted his teeth and looked for any weapon of improvisation.

  One of the priests near the back of the gallery leaned
beside a pillar made from a stalactite and stalagmite meeting in twain. He was armed with a knife and spear.

  Gathelaus crept closer, silent as death, and took the man about the throat and mouth, jerked him back, and broke his neck like a rotten branch.

  He put the priest’s dirty black cloak on, but, standing a head taller than most of the folk on this continent, Gathelaus’s disguise wouldn’t fool anyone for more than a moment. But sometimes a moment is all it takes to succeed.

  Gathelaus detected a slight amount of movement in the moon beam. He guessed that as it moved across the sky, the light would reach its zenith as the blade fell and then be gone. He had to act fast, believing that the ape men would only remain in their trance so long as the light of the jewel struck their eyes.

  When the lead priest reached the final staccato verse, he raised the dagger high above the struggling girl. Gathelaus knew the priest’s invocation was nearly complete.

  He stalked forward with the spear in hand. Midway across the gallery, the high priest sucked in a deep breath, ready to plunge the knife. The girl’s screams went silent, facing that glinting death.

  Gathelaus coiled his arm back and let the spear fly. The obsidian point slammed through the high priest’s chest and stood out a foot beyond his spine. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped his lips as he toppled over. The four priests holding the girl cried out in shock and let her go. They wheeled to face the threat and she scrambled away.

  The priests’ faces were painted as death’s heads, white and black like bleached skulls. Drawing their own daggers, they cried out in union of surprise at Gathelaus’s appearance and rushed to meet him.

  Warily, Gathelaus watched the ape men for reaction, but they remained stationary, oblivious to everything as the streaming jets of yellow light burned into their eyes.

  Another handful of priests rushed in from the sides of the gallery to attack. Gathelaus selected how they would meet him first. He rushed to one side and then the other, ripping his knife along their throats and chests. Blood hit the floor in thick jets and men fell crying out to dark gods.

  The obsidian knife in his hand broke upon the sternum of one priest and Gathelaus took up a short stool in its stead, this proving an even better weapon against his foes since it extended his reach and the hard wood proved an able bludgeon.

  Still, the ape men remained transfixed and immobile, bearing no sign that they recognized the carnage flooding around them.

  Coco cried out to Gathelaus, but he couldn’t understand her words because of the heat of battle. She was still bound with cords and unable to move.

  Ten priests lay dead or dying on the cavern floor and another ten circled Gathelaus. Either they hadn’t thought to call for reinforcements or they didn’t have any. None had sounded any kind of alarm as far as he could tell.

  One of them bumped against one of the apes but the ape man, likely weighing near a thousand stone, was immoveable and did not respond to the priest’s coaxing.

  Gathelaus made his way toward Coco and the other bound slaves. He called to the girl who was free to cut the bindings but she froze in fear, cowering near the feet of the great idol.

  Coco called to her and the girl, hardly younger than Coco herself, shook her head and shrieked rather than try and assist in their escape.

  One of the priests ran to attack the girl before she could act on Gathelaus or Coco’s urging, but before he could reach her, Gathelaus threw his broken stool and cracked the man on the back of the head.

  The priest fell stricken against the enormous statue and, though the idol did not move itself, the slight jarring of the crown jewel shifted its facet of light just askew from one of the hypnotized ape men.

  The ape man blinked.

  “Bel’s Devils,” Gathelaus cursed.

  The ape blinked again and a scowl tore over its face. He roared like a thunderclap.

  One of the priests near him shouted and pointed at Gathelaus. It looked like he didn’t have confidence in ordering the ape man.

  The brute narrowed its gaze at both the priest and the Northman. The priest shouted his order again, this time a little more timidly.

  Gathelaus’s guess was correct. Whatever magic was held in the bejeweled moonlight, its power over the ape man was incomplete.

  The priest panicked, wheeled and ran. This set the ape loose with the instinctual thrill of the hunt. With blinding speed, it leapt and grabbed the black clad priest about the waist with a massive hand, brought him screaming toward its tusked mouth and chomped down on the shrieking priest’s head, silencing the terror, and then spit the head away. It rolled against the far end of the gallery and came to a stop, staring wide-eyed horror toward Gathelaus.

  The other priests fled in all directions. The ape man leapt, covering nearly twenty feet in a single bound, and crashed atop one of the priests, flattening him into bloody gore. He then jumped and this time at an even farther distance caught up another priest and squeezed him to jelly between his massive palms.

  Gathelaus reached the dais and past Coco who still lay on her side.

  “What are you doing? Free me!” she shouted.

  He ignored her and the screaming girl and took up the long sacrificial dagger that had been the property of the high priest. It was almost two feet of flint-napped obsidian, sharp as slander. The ornate handle of turquoise gave it the appearance of a scaled snake. It was not the best weapon for having a good grip, but it was the only one he had now.

  Stepping to Coco, he slashed her bonds in an instant, freeing her.

  “See to the others,” he said.

  “You cannot fight the gods of the mountain. They are invincible.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” He tore the priest’s black cloak from off his shoulders.

  “You’re mad. We must flee.”

  “You go,” he said sternly. “I’ll hold him off your escape out the door.” He was watching the ape tear apart yet another priest, painfully aware that the moonlight was shifting, and all of the apes would be free of the mesmerizing force that held them in thrall.

  Coco helped the other slaves stand and cut some of their bonds with a fallen priest’s knife.

  “Get out of here!” he shouted at her.

  The ape suddenly turned and stared daggers at Gathelaus. It roared with the force of gale winds. Its yellow eyes narrowed, and it leapt, crossing most of the distance across the gallery in a single bound. Gathelaus had never seen a creature with such speed, ferocity, and incredible strength in such close spaces. He supposed he would never see anything again soon enough, but the true warrior must always be ready to meet death, so he charged forward his own cry upon his lips, ready to meet his great black knife against the hulking god of the mountain.

  The ape bounded and landed on its feet a pace before Gathelaus who had dodged beside a stalactite.

  The great ape reached its long arm toward him and he let the obsidian dagger slash through the sinew and tendons of its hand, slicing halfway to the center of the palm.

  The beast roared in agony, but just as quickly reached with the other hand and caught Gathelaus by the edge of his poncho. The talons tore through the cotton and flesh beneath but Gathelaus was not taken. He rounded low about the pillar and struck again with the big knife gouging a wound across the ape’s thigh. Gathelaus had hoped to sever the life-giving artery that lay there but his cut was too shallow.

  The ape slammed its fists at the pillar and shattered the living rock.

  Gathelaus backed away and slashed across the monster’s reaching hand. Hot blood flew and the madness in the monster’s eyes flashed like cold fire.

  Charging in once again to bury the knife in the ape’s vitals, a glancing blow that would have broken the neck of a lesser man, battered Gathelaus aside. Before the disorientation cleared from Gathelaus’s head, the monster ape flung its taloned hand forward and sent Gathelaus spinning dizzily toward the sacrificial altar beside the dais. It leapt to land atop and crush him.

  Gathelaus
rolled beneath the altar just as the ape slammed down. It crouched to roar at him and received the full length of the ebon blade into its right eye. Struck dumb, it reeled back like a drunken man, staggered once, and toppled over face first, shattering the great knife. A piece of the black blade revealed itself through the rear of the monster’s skull like an egg tooth.

  The sliver of moonlight had nearly separated from the gleaming crown jewel. In a moment, the four other apes would be loose.

  Coco and the others had already fled through the door. Gathelaus followed after and glanced at the massive door and its weight and countermeasures. Surely the vast strength of the beast men would allow them to move the boulders and free themselves, but every extra moment would count.

  Grasping a dagger from one of the fallen priests, he rushed to the ropes and pulleys of the counterweight and began worrying at the vines connected to the nearest levers. The great twisted vines were strung taut as a bard’s fiddle and it took much sawing of the obsidian blades to cut the first one. He started on a second when the gloom of the gallery suddenly washed over him. The moonbeam was gone and with it, the ape men awakened, released from their dreamlike trance courtesy of the great yellow jewel.

  They glanced about the gallery at the multiple dead priests and their own fallen brother with the instrument of his death piercing the back of his skull. Then all four pairs of yellowed eyes focused on Gathelaus and narrowed malevolently.

  A roar from four monstrous mouths stung his ears within the massive underground gallery. The damage to his eardrums rendered him nearly deaf.

  He slashed at the final vine, just as the ape men leapt with their black talons spread to rend him limb from limb.

  Gathelaus ducked beneath the crashing slab. The great door slammed down and caught an ape man’s arm, severing it at the shoulder. The force of the charging beast men sent one of the crushing stones into the doorway and wedged it shut. It would allow no purchase for even the fingers of the ape men and with the magnificent counterweight broken on the opposite side, Gathelaus did not think they could escape, unless there was another exit he did not know of.