The Legend of the Phantom (3 page)

“It’s a great city
, but there are no roofs of gold…” Kit started,

“
…and no people,” finished Caribo.

“Well then…?”

“Then come, let us explore,” Caribo agreed.

They explored other buildings and other rooms, with similar results. It was as if the entire city had quite
abruptly and of one accord, left everything and disappeared.

It was on such reconnoiter that
Caribo first heard humanity. “Kit. Do you hear voices?”

Kit strained to hear what Caribo heard and surprise crossed his face as he too heard the distant shout of many voices.

“I do! Let’s go!”

They followed the sound
as they wended their way through the immense city. Then, having found the place where the voices were coming from, they climbed the great outer wall for a bird’s eye view of the event inside.

They found
themselves overlooking a huge open stadium where a ballgame was being played. 

Played inside a
long, narrow alley and flanked by brightly painted walls, the nearest side sported a large stone ring.

Kit and Caribo watched the game for some
time from their hiding place. The game seemed structured and was definitely the cultural affair of the city.

The rules didn’t make much sense at first, but as
Kit and Caribo continued to watch, the rules made more sense to them. To begin with, the players couldn’t use their hands at all. They had to pass the ball by kicking or bumping with their bodies.

Points were lost by a player who let the ball bounce more than twice before returning it to the other team, or who let the ball go outside the boundaries of the court, or who tried and failed to pass the ball through one of the stone rings placed on each wall along the center line.

Points were gained if the ball hit the opposite end wall, while the decisive victory was reserved for the team that put the ball through a ring. However, placing the ball through the ring was a rare event—as the rings were set six meters off the playing field, or as Kit observed it, about three times his own height—and most games were likely won on points rather than by getting the ball through the ring.

Kit and Caribo were undecided as to what they should do
; show themselves or leave while they had the chance. It was Caribo that eventually sold Kit on a plan. He volunteered to go forward and make contact with the people of the city, saying that he was a better choice, being less of a shock to the people than a white boy would be. Kit finally gave in, reluctantly, and Caribo stepped down into view.

Kit had a bad feeling about this.

As Caribo stepped down, a mighty cheer went forth from the crowds signaling the end of the game. Just as Caribo turned the corner of the giant stone Jaguar that guarded the entrance to the court, one of the spectators had just descended from the viewing stands to leave. Unfortunately it was one who had dealt with the Caribs before… and not with positive results.

“A Carib! 
A Carib within the city walls!” shouted the man that first pointed him out. The cry went before the onlookers.

Before Kit had
found any means to do anything to help his friend, Caribo was roughly grabbed and hauled into the arena.

Caribo
tried to explain that he was not a Carib, that he hated them as much as these people obviously did. He pleaded; he tried to resist, but he was forcibly maneuvered to the far end of the court, where a huge stone slab lay.

A
gang of four large natives hoisted him up the high far side until step by step they reached the top. There, despite Caribo’s best efforts to escape, they forced him down and stretched him out upon the altar stone, while others tied his hands and feet. Caribo was to be sacrificed.

Even as
the realization of his dire circumstance filled his head, a shout echoed out and was taken up by the others into a deafening chant: “Kill him! Sacrifice him! Kill the Carib!”

“Kill him!”

“Sacrifice him!”

“Kill the Carib!” screamed the crowd.

Chapter
4

Caribo struggled in vain against the cords that bound him to the altar stone. The gang of men that had dragged him up there now moved aside and an older high priest came forth brandishing a jade knife in his hand.

He raised both hands and spoke to the crowd. “This Carib, this
man
eater, has defiled our great city by entering during the great games!”

“…I’m not a Carib, nor a man eater,” screamed Caribo, truly terrified now.

“Quiet! Insolent devil!” shouted the high priest as he hit Caribo across the face.

The strike had its desired effect as Caribo grew silent.

The crowd also quieted as the priest yelled, “Now for the removal of this vermin…”

Caribo knew his time had come. He began to do
what most men do in their hour of need; he turned to his God.

“Oh great and wondrous Cemie…” Caribo began praying
aloud earnestly.

As he prayed, Caribo watched the high priest raise the knife.

But
as he raised it above his head, the old high priest stopped to listen; his arms poised for the plunge but held still as Caribo’s words washed over him.

‘
What was this? A Carib that believed in Cemie? A Carib with a God?’ He paused for just a moment as thoughts passed through his mind.

The
crowd grew tense with excitement. Without knowing that the pause would incite them all the more, the priest continued to think… continued to listen, waiting for the Carib to finish his prayer.

“
I commend my spirit to you…” Caribo nearly whispered the last words, having finished his prayer. Then looking up into the priest’s eyes, he saw something there beyond the hatred. Taking courage from the look, he repeated, “I do not eat human flesh, but I am now ready for the next life. Do what you will to me,” he finished, allowing his eyes to close for a moment.

But the knife didn’t enter into
his flesh.

Opening his eyes again
, he turned them up to stare into the priest’s eyes.

The old high priest was taken aback all the more by what he saw in the
reflection of the young man’s eyes. He read sincerity, honesty and a pure heart. He wavered.

The crowd had had enough waiting. The chant took up again, slowly at first then repeated faster and faster. “Kill the Carib! Sacrifice him!”

The old high priest looked away from the boy on the altar and glanced over the crowd. The young man’s prayer had affected him. ‘Could he really believe that his God would save him?’ He asked in thought. What he saw next caused him to drop his knife. ‘Not only had the boy’s God answered him, He has sent His angel to save him!’

The high priest saw Kit as he entered the stadium.

While Caribo was taken from him, and drug up to the altar for sacrifice, Kit quickly made his way down to the main part of the arena.

As he ran to Caribo’s aid, he filled his pistols; for Kit had come to the realization that he would rather die trying to help his friend than live with the knowledge that his lack of action was through his own cowardice.

As the old high priest dropped his knife, he let out an exclamation to his own God. Then dropping to his knees, he begged his God for forgiveness for the evil act that he had nearly committed.

As t
he knife clattered upon the stone it gave way to a silence that overtook
the whole stadium as one by one the people noticed Kit.

Kit stopped and
, guessing that they were awed by his light hair and pale skin quickly came up with a plan that if it worked would pay off in saving both Caribo’s and his lives. He quickly yelled to Caribo, in his own language, “Tell them that I am come from God… that I am His angel and that I am opposed to this sacrifice. Tell them I will send a mighty thunderclap as a sign.”

His voice cut through the stadium and instantly more murmuring came forth. Many people dropped to their knees.

Caribo took courage and did as he was told. As he yelled the last words, all eyes that had moved to take him in now moved back to Kit. A great hush filled the auditorium as they eagerly awaited this ‘miracle.’

The golden haired
angel in their midst slowly turned as he studied the crowd. In his hand he held a short stick. Then, as if supplicating the Gods themselves, he lifted his arm high, the short stick pointed up towards the heavens. The stick flashed with brilliant light, not unlike the flash of light that precedes a storm, and suddenly a mighty peal of thunder crashed forth. The angel neither flinched nor cowered from the flash nor from the thunder.

The opposite was true for the whole of the city. As one body, every living soul
in the city immediately prostrated themselves to the ground in reverence to the angel that had come.

Having fired his pistol and seeing the result, Kit silently thanked his own God. Aloud
, he called out to Caribo, “Have them cut you free!”

Caribo passed along the message and the old high priest quickly retrieved his jade knife. This time the old man used the knife to save a life rather than take it.

As the cords came free, Caribo pulled himself upright, rubbing his wrists.

The old man quickly bowed himself down before him holding out the jade knife. “Please take it, my son,” he begged. “Please have mercy on an old fool that had been taken in too many times by the evils of the Caribs and the Aztecs.”

Caribo accepted the gift and frankly forgave the man. Then, calling to Kit, he asked Kit to come forward.

“Are you sure, Caribo? Now’s the best time to make our departure,” he coaxed.

“I don’t think they will try anything at this point. They really believe you are an angel sent from above. I believe we have nothing to fear from them.”

Kit wasn’t too certain, but having trusted his life to his friend before, he accepted his friend’s
judgment and slowly climbed the steps to finally stand before the prostrated multitude. There, reaching down, he grabbed the old man by the arm, and applying a bit of force, helped raise the old high priest from the ground. “Have him call out to the crowd and tell them to rise,” he said to Caribo whom he used as his translator.

Caribo consented and told the old man Kit’s wishes. “With trembling voice the old man called out to the multitude. “The
angel has asked that I, as your high priest, speak on his behalf to this his chosen family…” he begun. Caribo translated to Kit as the old man spoke. Kit started to smile, laughing to himself. Gaining more confidence as he saw Kit’s smile, the old man continued, “He has asked that I command all of you to rise.” As he spoke, he raised his arms and Kit did the same. The crowd slowly rose to their feet, still in awe with the golden angel from above.

“What now, my friend?” asked Caribo. “They will be expecting some words of wisdom or direction.”

Kit considered it for a second. “Well, let’s start with the obvious,” he said to Caribo. “Tell them that human sacrifice is wrong. That it is an abomination…I mean evil,” he corrected, realizing he was again using words that Caribo wouldn’t understand.

Caribo translated and Kit mentally prepared his next line as the old man embellished the first.

“Now tell them that they are blessed for passing this test that was given them. They are blessed for believing they had a Carib and allowing the man to be free. Explain that you are only in the form of the Carib for the test, and to do you no more harm, but to treat us as they would like to be treated.”

Caribo again translated and the old man’s smile openly broke forth as he realized that the test was for him and he had gained favor with God through passing such a grand test.

“Finally tell them that we will take on the forms of men, allowing ourselves to be as men, and that if any man designs evil against us they will drop dead through lightning and thunder.”

Caribo smiled broadly at this and dutifully translated.

As the old high priest finished, Kit had him dismiss the crowds. Then asking the old man for assistance they were led to their new furnishings, being given the best in room and board.

There was no way of knowing that fate had designed more for them at that time. For as they were gathering the will of the people in their favor, a group of Aztec were approaching the city, in hopes of acquiring slaves and sacrifices, as well as wealth and power.

The next day found Kit and Caribo well rested and well fed. Their garments had been removed and cleaned, and new garments had been laid out for them. As Kit pulled on the wrap around kilt of the Maya, he laughed to himself and thought of what his father Bartholomew would say.

His weapons were left untouched. In fact everything was left exactly as they left them, with the addition of fresh fruits and meats that were delivered for their enjoyment.

As they were dressing
, a shout went out through the city: “Aztecs!”

The old priest hurried to their quarters. “I do not know in what manner that we have offended you, unless you are still unforgiving of the test, but I beg of you to have mercy upon us
; this our city, our sons, and our daughters.”

Kit realized that through their act they had placed themselves into this awkward position. He quietly said to Caribo, “Looks like we have to help them or
they’ll think we’re frauds and we’ll be killed. I suspect that we will have better chances with the enemy. What do you say?”

Caribo sighed.
Gathering up the weapons, he handed Kit his espadas and pistols while he donned his own club, jade knife, bow, and arrows. “I will tell him to take us to the enemy.”

As the three of them walked down the central plaza towards the
main gates where the Maya were attempting to keep out the oncoming hoards of the Aztec enemy, the whole of the city hushed and, like Moses at the Red Sea, parted to allow them to pass, their faces turning from hopelessness to hope itself. As they approached the gate, Kit prepared his pistols.

This
immediate difference in behavior among the Maya caused the enemy Aztec to stop, leaving them bewildered as to the change in the multitude. The Aztec knew something was going to happen but they could not have even guessed as to what it was.

As t
he main stone door to the city was dragged aside, there in the doorframe stood next to the Maya high priest what appeared to be a Carib and a pale man.

The Aztec viewed them with scorn. The old man spoke up quickly before the Aztec warrior could say anything.

“This is an Angel of God incarnate before you,” he said indicating towards Kit. “If you do not leave he will strike you dead.”

Caribo hastily translated to Kit.

The Aztec warrior realized that the other was translating. “If he is as powerful as you say, then why does he need a translator,” he replied to the old man. Then as to show his indifference, he spat on Kit. “Do your best white child,” he taunted.

To Kit the answer was obvious. This man meant business. He needed to die.

Even as the spittle struck Kit’s boots, he had raised his pistol and fired it. The man’s face showed surprise as he looked down at his chest, the pain reaching him about the same time the thunder of the pistol reached his ears. Frothing at the mouth, blood surged forth as he coughed and dropped over on to his side. He landed in a heap and the momentum rolled him on to his back; dead.

No hand had touched him. There was no weapon protruding from the hole in his chest. He was simply dead.

Fear alighted on the faces of the warriors that surrounded him, and they panicked, trying to get as far away from the destroying angel as they could. Stumbling over one another, they ran, not daring to even look back; leaving their dead warrior chief at the gate of the Maya city.

Kit meanwhile had walked forward to examine the body. Careful to keep a distance in case the fellow wasn’t quite dead, he took out both swords and held them crossed together in the form of a scissor over the man’s neck.

While he thus protected himself from the body, Caribo searched the man for any weapons, drawing them off of him. Clearly, the man was dead.

As Caribo stepped away from
the body, Kit looked up to see that a large crowd had formed behind him. Smiling, he turned and raising his swords above his head he crossed them again, to show they had nothing to fear.

A great cheer went forth from the people. The angel
incarnate had protected them. He had struck the evil man dead and returned to them, giving them what they interpreted as the angel’s sign of protection.

Kit and Caribo
had won them over.

That night a great ceremony was held for Kit and Caribo. Seated together at the place of honor, they were presented with the story of
Popul Vuh,
which contains their story of the creation as told by the Mayas. Kit found the story much like the European version of creation, except that instead of an apple tree, they used a cacao tree. 

The actors did an excellent job portraying their representation of the creation, and Kit felt that the whispering translation provided by Caribo was
monumentally unnecessary.