Treasure of the Mayan King (2012) (26 page)

He thought about the documentary film that Raul had mentioned from Dr. Sova’s computer. The time-lapse footage of Chichen Itza had made what appeared to be a serpent seen crawling on the steps of the temple.

Octavio followed the line indicated across the great courtyard - to the pyramid of the sun. It points directly to the Temple of the Sun! “The way of the sun!”

Getting into his van, he drove off north toward the Temple of the Sun. Parking near its base he stood drinking from his plastic water bottle and looking up at the enormous structure.

The solution to the rest of the riddle was at its top. As much as he hated any kind of work he had to climb it.

By the time he got to the top, he was drenched with sweat. Just think, Octavio. Soon you’ll be so rich you’ll never have to sweat again! He sat down and consulted the scroll. It says that as the sun crosses the sky, it gets swallowed by the “god of the underground.” I’m certainly not waiting until sundown to see where the sun sets!

He stood and drew an imaginary line through the sky with one arm following the path of the sun. Lifting his binoculars, he studied the spot where his arm had pointed at the western horizon. In the distance he spotted a series of mountain ranges. One peak jutted above all the others. That’s the mountain! “The sun god will be swallowed by the god of the underground, and there you will find it.” Of course! Xibalba is a cave. That is where the treasure will be! Oh, Octavio, you are a genius. All I have to do is pluck the treasure like a little boy picking up candy after a pinata party. Thank you Dr. Sova and thank you Raul!

Octavio made careful note of the mountain’s location on his map. Shoving scroll and map into his backpack he made the less arduous descent down the temple steps.

Driving toward the mountain, the jungle pressed in on him, and before long the road was nearly too rough for driving. It was more like a hiking trail. He knocked off several branches as he drove. Just when he thought that he would have to continue on foot he came to a large clearing. He was delighted to see that he was at the foot of the mountain.

Perfect! But now I have to start the hard work.

He pulled a wheelbarrow from the rear of the van and began loading shovels, a pick and containers of water. Pushing the wheelbarrow slowly, he approached the foot of the mountain.

Where in the world do I start digging? The scroll doesn’t say. There must be a cave entrance here somewhere.

He left his tools and walked along a sheer rock wall covered with vegetation. Any cave entrance was hidden by centuries of plant growth. He stared at the rock wall for a few minutes before returning to the van to fetch a machete. He began chopping at the vegetation and soon exposed a pile of loose rocks. This must be it!

Three hours later he collapsed on the front seat of the van. Drenched with sweat, he swatted at mosquitoes as he chewed on a cold bean burrito and contemplated his fate.

Fool! I may need a week or more to carve into that mountain! What was I thinking?

He finished his burrito and forced himself to get up. He approached the wall, holding his shovel as if it were a javelin. Growling in anger he slammed the point of the shovel into the wall, and it collapsed inward, taking him with it.

He plunged into darkness and tumbled down a dark shaft, rolling over and over with the rocks from the wall. The thud of his head hitting the bottom was followed immediately by the sound of the shovel hitting his head.

Groaning in pain he rolled over and sat up. Nothing seemed to be broken, but his left knee throbbed fiercely and he could feel blood running from a gash in his head. The dim light filtering into the cave showed him the steep staircase he had rolled down. All his equipment - digging tools, lights, first aid kit - was in his van at the top of those stairs. Protecting his injured knee as well as he could, he began crawling back up.

An hour later, bandaged and slightly cleaner, he started back down the stairs using the bright yellow extension cord, which ran from a gas generator behind the van as a guide. When he reached the bottom of the steps he set down the lamps and connected them to the extension cord. Then he gasped in amazement.

Twisted fingers of stalactites hung from the distant ceiling. Looking around, Octavio discovered that the cave was actually an anteroom that led to many other rooms. Picking up a lamp he walked to one of the tunnels that led away from the anteroom.

Down one tunnel was a pile of human skulls among some broken potshards. He shivered at the thought of all the human sacrifices to appease the gods of the underworld. Dragging the extension cord behind him, he had to duck several times to avoid re-opening the wound on his head. After a few minutes of pulling himself along he came to another room and stood up.

He shined the light across the floor and something glinted in its beam. This wasn’t just another pile of dusty rocks. It took a moment before his brain accepted the message his eyes were sending.

Then he cried out loud in great jubilation. “I found the treasure of the Mayan king! Oh, Octavio, you did it, you did it!”

He laid the lamp on the floor and approached the pile. He thought of all the work he had gone through. He sank his hands into the treasure pile, pulling out jewelry and ornaments. Precious stones and beautifully handcrafted idols and statues were piled everywhere. Thousands upon thousands of figurines glittered in the darkness: gold, silver, and jade.

Ah, Dr. Sova, too bad you couldn’t be here. I’ll think of you in my beautiful new home…homes, perhaps. Yes, I’ll need more than one - what was that?

Someone was in the cave. “Who’s there?” he shouted as his voice echoed in the empty shadows. Relax, Octavio, relax. Your mind is playing tricks on you. Are you a child who’s afraid of the dark?

Out of the dark he distinctly heard the sound of shuffling feet. It wasn’t his imagination; this was real. He stared wildly into the shadows. Before he could move or shout he heard a pffft sound and felt a sting in his neck.

“I’ve been shot!” he shouted in horror. The pain was incredible. “Who’s there? Who are you?” He staggered toward the entrance and fell to the ground. The lamp shone on a man’s legs; the rest of his body was hidden in the shadows. “Who are you?” Octavio shouted once more.

A deep voice reverberated through the cave. “I am King Chac.”

“What? That’s impossible! King Chac died centuries ago! Who are you?”

“I am King Chac! Your companions are dead by my hand, and now you too will follow them to Xibalba!”

“But, but…”

“Your dose is not as strong as the others. You will live - a little longer.”

“It was you that killed them! Why?”

“You have no right to be here. This is holy ground, and you have profaned it. I am King Chac, and I am the protector of the artifacts of this holy place!”

Octavio grabbed his chest as his heart began to flutter with pain. “No! I don’t believe in ghosts! Show yourself to me!”

The stranger stepped into the light and Octavio’s mind reeled with emotional shock. “It can’t be - it simply can’t! No, not you!”

“You were a fool to discover this place. It is my job to protect this treasure. No one will desecrate it and live!”

He stepped forward and leaned down, a twisted smile on his face. “And now, you will die for your sins.”

Octavio could no longer hear him.

Chapter Thirteen

“Are you sure you know the way?” Gustavo asked as he drove their rented Jeep. He crashed through the bushes of the jungle, splashed through deep mud puddles and plowed through the thick vegetation.

Chauncy held onto the roll bar and looked straight ahead. “Yes, yes of course I do.”

Gustavo talked between bumps. “Now you know why I don’t come here. I would rather take my wife to Acapulco. I like luxurious hotels, good food, fine wine and massages.”

Chauncy chuckled. “You should spend some time on an archaeological dig. The conditions are wretched, but the thrill of discovery is awesome!”

Gustavo slammed on the brakes as a jaguar crossed their path. He wrenched out his gun and aimed.

Chauncy gently pushed Gustavo’s arm down. “What’s the matter with you? Let the poor animal cross the road. He isn’t going to hurt you.”

“Big cats with big claws make me nervous!” Gustavo exclaimed as the cat fled back into the jungle.

Chauncy grinned as he picked up his binoculars. “There it is, just like I said. Temple #22, in all its ancient splendor.”

As Gustavo put the Jeep in gear, Chauncy waved a hand at him. “No, no, no. From here we walk.”

“Walk? Are you crazy? What about jaguars?”

“These cats are more afraid of us than we should be of them. You’re just used to the comfort and safety of a helicopter. We need stealth, not speed,” he said. He patted Gustavo’s shoulder holster. “You have a gun, remember?

Chapter Fourteen

The mysterious killer knelt beside Octavio’s body. Laying the scroll over the corpse’s chest, he crossed Octavio’s limp arms over it. Then from the pile of treasure he selected a death mask, one that was decorated with jade and mother-of-pearl, and placed it gently over the dead man’s face.

He collected the lights and began pulling the cord up the long staircase. In the harsh light of the sun he piled Octavio’s equipment into the white van.

Disappearing between the trees, he returned with a box labeled “Caution - Explosives” and a small hand-activated detonator. He didn’t waste much time with careful placement of the dynamite. There was plenty to do the job, even if he was a little careless. He connected the detonating cable to each bundle of dynamite and began walking backward away from the cave’s entrance, uncoiling the cable.

Just as he reached the end of it he felt the cold barrel of a gun in his back. “Stop right there! Put your hands up.”

The stranger slowly turned around, obeying Gustavo’s commands. He had a perplexed look on his face. “Gustavo De Leon and Chauncy Rollock! How did you find me?” Then in a quieter voice, “So close. I was so close.”

It was hard to tell who of the three was most surprised. Gustavo barely recognized the face. He wouldn’t have recognized the voice at all.

“Miguelito?” Gustavo said.

Chauncy blurted, “You speak Spanish!”

De Leon glanced at Chauncy. “Yes, Chauncy. He speaks Spanish. He’s not dimwitted. It was all an act.” Then he turned to Miguelito, “Where’s Octavio?”

Miguelito sighed and then answered. “He’s down in the cave - forever!”

Gustavo’s eyes widened. “Octavio didn’t kill his partners, you did, just like you killed Octavio.”

“Finally the investigator begins to understand just a little. At least now you can stop calling me Miguelito.” Smiling, he bowed his head slightly and said, “My name is King Chac.”

Gustavo shook his head as if a fly were buzzing in his face. “No, no, no. This makes no sense.”

Chauncy acted as if he were waking from a dream. “I think maybe it does, Gustavo. I think there’s a story here and maybe we should hear it.”

Gustavo gestured toward a shady tree with two large rocks under it. “Let’s at least sit in the shade while we listen to it.”

King Chac lowered his hands, walked to a boulder and sat down. Gustavo watched him move, thinking how complete the transformation was. He was no longer a sickly old man. A smooth agility had replaced the dragging shuffle and an intelligent light had replaced the glazed look in his eyes. Gustavo and Chauncy sat side-by-side on the other rock.

King Chac looked at the two men. “It seems that I have no choice but to tell you my story, Mr. De Leon and Mr. Rollock. I was on a sacred mission, which I have failed. I was born here in the mountains of the Yucatan peninsula. I am from the Quiche Maya tribe. My parents named me King Chac, because I am a descendant of the great king whose tomb you Mestizos desecrated at the so-called Temple #22, the Temple of Chac.

“Centuries ago we were a mighty people. King Chac was our mightiest king. We sacrificed to our gods and had their protection. We were the most powerful people of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, and our great temples filled Palenque!

“But King Chac’s empire faded, and the Quiche Maya had to migrate to other areas to avoid famine. Most stayed in the mountains and struggled to survive. But then the Spanish conquest came. Oh, how they devastated our people! They destroyed our way of life and our heritage and made us their slaves. They took away our idol gods and gave us new idols to worship. Smallpox and other diseases ruined our race; those who could escaped to the mountains. Like the Lacondon, we hid in the mountains and jungles where the Spanish couldn’t find us.

“For generations we hid there. Then the airplanes came. They saw our villages. Others followed who took away our lands and made us live in poverty. Our temples and treasures have been plundered and destroyed. Greedy men with evil intentions have done so much damage, and even those with good intentions sent our treasures away to museums. Little by little our way of life was being destroyed. It was foretold that I would be the one to save our people. I am a descendant of King Chac. From infancy my parents taught me that I would fulfill the prophecies foretelling the great restoration of our people.

“One day news came to the village of the famous French archaeologist who intended to decipher King Chac’s riddle. For three weeks I meditated in a small hut far outside our village, seeking the wisdom of the gods.

“I left the mountains and went to the lowland jungles of Merida. Believing that I was a moron, Dr. Sova saved himself a few pesos and hired me to perform simple tasks around his hacienda. Working at the hacienda gave me the opportunity to study Dr. Sova, just as he studied the Great Riddle. Then you came, Mr. Rollock, and after a few weeks you left again.

“Dr. Sova continued to work on the scroll, but over time he became erratic. He would disappear for long periods at a time. About six months ago we realized that he would never return. As you know, his widow sold the house but I stayed on with the other caretakers. They looked down on me as much as you Mestizos. So my disguise fooled them completely. I could wander off any time I wanted. It was easy to disappear long enough to give Barrios and Martinez their invitations to Xibalba. Octavio slipped away but I suspected he knew the location of the treasure. So instead of searching for him, I came here. With those three dead and the cave dynamited, no one would ever find it again.