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"He will find out in good time," he murmured to himself. "Happier for him if I keep silent. For me, this death is nothing. A few weeks ago I would have welcomed any fate which took me from the Spaniards, and now all that I live for is this white man, my master. If he dies, then so will I also."
By now the procession had passed across a wide courtyard sprinkled thickly with scented blossoms, and was at the foot of the tower. The latter measured at least a hundred feet on each face, and rose for many yards till the first terrace was reached. There were three or four more above that, so that the summit overtopped the city. Leading the way to one corner, the priest in scarlet began to ascend by way of a flight of steps which passed round the sides of the tower, reaching the first terrace after encircling it once. There another flight commenced, and so on till the summit was reached. Not till then did Roger realize the significance of all this display, of the assembled crowds, and of their shouts of joy. Arrived on the summit, his eye lit upon a huge figure in the shape of a serpent, coloured and jewelled with numerous stones. Directly in front of this, and occupying such a position that all in the streets of Mexico could observe it, was an enormous green stone, with smoothed faces, and with convex top. But worse than all was the presence of blood on this stone, and upon the hideous image of the war god. Roger then knew that he had been brought to the sacrifice, and in an instant his resolve was taken.
"They shall cut me to pieces first before I submit," he said to Tamba. "Watch me now, and prepare to act. If one of those hideous priests approaches me, I will break away from the crowd and seize one of those corners. Look, Tamba there is a chapel or room of some sort over there. We will make it a fort."
There was no time for more. The black-robed priests advanced to the green stone altar and politely beckoned to Roger, while the crowds below became strangely silent, their eagerness stilling their tongues.
"Come," said the priest in the scarlet cloak, beckoning again, "we will not delay, or keep the war god waiting. Let the white stranger advance first and lie upon the altar."
The time had come. A priest closed in on either side of Roger, while others fell in behind. He was surrounded, and the moment for action had arrived.
CHAPTER IX
Led to the Sacrifice
Terrible indeed was the position in which Roger and Tamba found themselves, and there is little wonder that the former was goaded to desperation by the thought of the fate awaiting him. His figure was drawn to its fullest height and his muscles stood out tensely. There was a moisture on his forehead, while his hands were clammy with fear. In a dream he saw the scarlet-cloaked high priest, and marked his tattered and filthy locks, and the marks on his head and neck of self-inflicted penance. He saw the black-robed helpers at his elbow, the serpent form of the god of war, and the fire which burned before the idol and was never allowed to die out. Then his eye roamed to the others congregated on the summit of the tower, to the silent and expectant crowds in the streets below, on every housetop, and on the hundred and more towers which rose from the enormous enclosure in the heart of the city given up to the priesthood. He even noted the smoke of the sacrificial fires there, and wondered vaguely who lit them, and who replenished the fuel. Then the curving obsidian knife of the high priest caught his attention, while the touch of that individual's hand sent a thrill through him.
"The altar awaits you," said the priest, softly, as if he bore the utmost friendship for Roger. "We will not keep the god of war waiting."
His words and the touch of his hand awakened Roger thoroughly. A second or so before he had seemed dazed; but now he was in possession of his full vigour, both of mind and body. He stirred, beat the priest's hand away, and looked at Tamba.
"The time has come. Seize a weapon and follow me," he said.
At that instant the remaining priests closed round him, for it was their custom for four or five to lift the victim to the altar and hold him there while their chief performed the murderous act. Roger saw their meaning, and swung round suddenly; then he charged them, and with a blow to right and left scattered them on either side. A stately and gorgeous Mexican chief, one of the few who had come near to the cage that afternoon, stood near at hand, and in an instant Roger had him in his arms.
"To the chapel!" he shouted, "and prepare to bar the door if there is one. If not, look for something with which we can fill it, and keep these others out. Quick! The priests will be after us."
Bearing his captive on one arm, as if he were a child, he rushed across the summit of the tower, a hoarse roar of amazement and fury swelling the air as he did so. The entrance to a small chapel lay before him, and he followed Tamba through it, the latter having snatched a native sword as he ran.
"There is no door, master!" he called out in dismay. "There is only a curtain of feather work with bells at the bottom."
This, in fact, was the case, and it was the general arrangement throughout the temples and private houses of the Mexicans. They had no doors, and merely hung a curtain across the entrance, the curtain being very often of the most beautiful workmanship, and having attached at the bottom a number of bells made of tiny shells or of silver, which gave timely notice of the approach of a stranger.
Within the chamber all was gloomy at first after the brilliant sunshine outside. But in the space of a second or two Roger's eyes became accustomed to the half light, and he gave vent to a shout as he discovered an object.
"Here is a carving of some sort," he called out, "and made of stone, too. We must get it to the door. One moment, though."
In a twinkling he wrenched the arms from the hand and belt of his captive and flung him into a corner. Then he seized the object – one of the Mexican deities – while Tamba came eagerly to his help. They put their whole strength into the task, causing the idol to totter on its pedestal. It moved a few inches across the paved floor, and encouraged by this, Roger bent to the work with all his might.
"Now, together!" he shouted. "Shove with all your might. It moves! It is sliding along the floor. Again, and we have it in position."
At any other time it would have taken them at least a quarter of an hour to have moved this mass of stone, but fear and desperation had given them power which they could not have summoned on another occasion. As Roger's grasp riveted itself about the thigh and neck of the inanimate figure the whole idol swayed, and when Tamba pushed with his shoulder it glided with a grating sound across the tiles. Once they had got it to move they never rested till it was in the doorway, where it struck with a thud, presenting an almost impenetrable barrier to the enemy, and a face which was even more hideous than that of the god of war, to which the Mexicans had given such an unpronounceable name. However, though the mass of stone effectively checked a rush, it was still possible to reach the inmates of the chapel over the head and shoulders of the idol; and very soon those without showed that that was their intention. A head darkened the bright patch close to the top of the door, and a second followed. They were priests, and Roger determined to read them a lesson.
"Stand back, and watch this prisoner of mine," he said to Tamba. "Now see me deal with these butchers."
The sight of the priests seemed to madden him and stir his desperation, and as Tamba hastened to obey him, Roger stepped coolly across the tiles, and, with a quick movement, snatched at one of the priests. He was a tall, thin man, and our hero's grasp closed on his neck. With a wrench he drew him through the entrance, and with his other hand arrested the blow which the Mexican aimed at him. Then he caught him up, and, stepping closer, threw him with all his force at the head of his comrade. There was a thud. The body of the priest struck half against the one who was staring into the chapel, and half against the head and neck of the idol. But Roger had used all his force, and followed it up by a push which completed the task. A second later there was a dull thud, as the man he had just dealt with crashed through the narrow space and fell on the flags outside. Then, indeed, did Roger know of the presence of the crowd, for, from every quarter of the lake city, from the courtyards below, from the scented gardens on the roofs, and from the summit of a hundred towers, a hoarse roar of indignation and of rage came to his ears. It swelled into a fanatical shriek, which silenced the cries of those on the summit of the tower on which the war god stood, and it filled the tiny chapel in which the two fugitives had taken up their quarters. Even their prisoner heard it, though he was half dazed by the suddenness of the action which had snatched him from the middle of his friends. He heard, and lifted a face which showed the utmost consternation.
"The gods are indeed furious, and must be appeased," he said. "Why did you do such a thing? Surely you and your comrades have already caused sufficient suffering to us!"
He spoke in Spanish – in poor Spanish, it is true; but Roger could understand him, and at the sound of his voice turned with a flush on his cheek.
"Then you can speak the language?" he said angrily. "Why did you not offer to interpret when we were in the cage? I asked for some one to make us known to your friends, and to explain that we were not Spanish, but no one came forward. You were there. Why did you not proffer your services?"
It looked for a moment as if he would have done some injury to the noble, for that this Mexican undoubtedly was. But whatever his intention, it was frustrated within a second, for there was a shout outside, a mass of men threw themselves against the idol, and, using all their force, hurled it into the chapel. It fell backward on to the tiled floor with a crash, which split fragments from it. Then it rolled sideways and lay across the entrance, leaving a wide chasm above, through which a couple of men, or even three, could enter abreast; and on the far side it exposed a crowd of jewelled Mexicans and five furious priests, whose faces showed their animosity. At their feet, feebly endeavouring to rise to his knees, was the one whom Roger had treated so roughly.
For a few seconds there was a pause, while the opponents faced one another across the fallen image. Then there was a shout from the scarlet-robed priest. He and his helpers stood aside, while a number of fighting men filled their places, and these flung themselves at Roger, grabbing fiercely at him with their bare hands, as if they desired to take him alive and without the use of a weapon. In fact, this was their intention, following their usual custom in warfare, where they strove to capture prisoners for the sacrifice rather than to kill their enemies.
"Be ready to meet any who get past me!" shouted Roger, glancing over his shoulder towards Tamba, "and try to keep an eye on our prisoner. I will keep these fellows back with this club."
He had taken the Mexican's sword from him on entering the chapel, and had carried it since secured to his arm by a leathern thong attached to the handle for that purpose. With a swing he brought it into his hand, and as the enemy crushed into the opening and endeavoured to grapple with him, he struck fiercely at them. And he was only just in time, for one of the enemy leapt with reckless courage over the idol, and flung his arms round Roger's legs, while a second closed with him so swiftly that before very long he would have been helpless. But the native sword came to his aid. He lifted it well above his head, and brought it down on the shoulder of the last assailant with a crash which shook the breath from his body, and left him senseless on the tiles. For the first he found a summary means of ridding himself of his embrace; for with a sudden movement he loosened the man's grip, and then, before he could close round his legs again, he brought his knee up with a jerk which caused it to strike the Mexican full in the face. It was a terrible blow, and the man fell as if he had been felled with an axe. But there were others at hand, and, undeterred by the unfortunate ending of their comrades, they came on furiously, whistling and crying in shrill tones.
"Stand back!" shouted Roger, standing just within the doorway with the native sword, now little better than a club, over his shoulder, and looking like a lion at bay. "Stand back, or I will kill every soul who ventures to attack me!"
"He has insulted our gods! Bring him out and sacrifice him!" shrieked those outside. "Let us see this foreigner slain on the altar! Bring him out without delay!"
"Then I swear that many of you shall die before I am killed by your butchers!" shouted Roger, seeing that they were about to attack. "Up to this I have played with you; now I shall strike to kill!"
He was as good as his word, too, and for many minutes the scene at the narrow doorway was appalling and magnificent. There was no need as yet for Tamba to help his master, for Roger de Luce had already shown his prowess, and had fought with men who were fully armed and protected. Now he was contesting the path with natives who bore only the lightest armour, and who, moreover, sought to take him alive. But their numbers made the danger, and our hero realized that once he permitted more than three or four to enter alive he and Tamba would be dragged to the floor. It was therefore with the utmost fury that he set upon the attackers. Thanks to the fact that the entrance to the chapel was narrow, not more than three could come at him at one time, and these he cut down with terrific blows from his club. They staggered and fell, tumbling upon the idol, while a few rolled over it into the chapel. But still they came, till one blow, a little stronger than its predecessors, caused the club to break into fragments. Even then Roger would not give way, and, dropping the club, he flung himself upon the Mexicans after their own fashion, only, instead of attempting to grasp them, he struck right and left with his clenched fists till the entrance was cleared and the enemy retreated in consternation.
"We will rush them!" shouted Roger, seeing the effect which his fighting had made. "Leave the prisoner, Tamba, and follow! Close your fists and strike in every direction! Now, quickly, before those priests can rally them!"
There was just a bare chance of success, and they snatched at it eagerly. With a bound and a shout which helped to startle the natives, Roger cleared the entrance, his faithful companion close at his heel. Then he rushed at a group of the enemy who stood about the priests discussing the situation with them. There was a shriek of dismay. A few of the Mexicans faced their white prisoner, and endeavoured to check his advance, but the old methods succeeded. Roger's fist brought consternation to their minds, and hardly had the first opponent measured his full length on the ground than the others took to their heels and raced for the stairway which led to the courts below; nor did they halt till they were safely amongst the crowd.
"A hot fight," said Roger, breathlessly, and with a reckless laugh. "Never before have I used my fists to such purpose. Look at the knuckles. Even in England I never fought so much, nor struck so many blows. And they are really gone, Tamba?"
"All save the men who have fallen to your blows, my lord, and the noble whom you captured," answered the native, eyeing his master with amazement. "Truly it was a brave fight, and I have never seen men struck to the ground in such a way. Show me how it was done."
Roger doubled his fist, and displayed a row of knuckles from which the skin had been torn.
"Their teeth are sharp," he said, again with a reckless laugh, "and they fight with their mouths open. That is the way, Tamba; close the hand, and put the thumb so. Then hit out from the shoulder, and aim for the face. A good blow will fell an enemy. But what about these men who are lying about us? None are killed, except, perhaps, one or two whom I struck with the club. We must get rid of them; and, above all, we must take pains to keep our prisoner. Go to him now, and tell him that he will be killed if he attempts to escape. I will look at our enemies, and will place them on the flight of steps. Collect a few of the arms as you go, for we shall need them. And, Tamba – "
"What next, my lord?"
"Have a look into their pouches. Some may contain food, and we shall want it perhaps. I mean to remain here till I am exhausted or until these fellows admit their friendship for us. Those priests will be our worst foes. They will never forgive the rough treatment I have given them. There, off you go, and let me know what success you have."
For a little while Roger sat down upon a seat which faced the hideous image of the war god, glancing listlessly at the huge green slab of stone, with its convex upper surface, upon which he was to have been placed, and on which he might yet lose his life. Then his eye wandered from the figures of the fallen Mexicans to the towers within the courtyard of the temple, and to the houses about.
"Just like the drawing on the disc," he reflected. "There was a huge square in the very centre of the buildings, and a tower in it. And close beside was the part marked with beasts and birds. There they are, too, as I live! It must be a cage in which they tame the animals."
From his elevated position he could see over the whole city of Mexico, and distinctly observed the aviaries and menageries kept by the king and by his priests. Also as his eye roamed farther afield he saw numerous canoes moving across the water, and in one quarter of the city another enormous square, which acted as a public market. But he had little time for such details. The situation demanded his whole attention, and now that he had recovered his breath he turned to face the difficulties which confronted him. Taking up a fallen sword, he strolled from one to another of the Mexicans, and turned them upon their backs. Some were still unconscious, while a few suffered from broken limbs, and were otherwise unhurt. In these cases Roger tenderly straightened the leg, and placed it in such a position that the man was comfortable. Then he went to another, till he had been the round of all who had been injured.
"Fourteen," he said, with a smile of satisfaction, "and a few must have got away. That thin priest still lies here groaning, and indeed I gave him good cause. I wonder whether he would make a valuable hostage? I will keep him, and get rid of these other fellows. Come, Tamba," he shouted, seeing the native emerge from the chapel, "lend me a hand, and we will drag these men to the stairs. I shall keep the priest with our other prisoner, for they may be useful. We might even arrange a kind of exchange, they to have their liberty while we have a guarantee of safety. But what did the prisoner say?"
"That he would swear to remain and leave us unhampered. He speaks of you as if he thought you as fine as one of his own gods. He says also that there is a mistake, and that the people will find it out."
"I hope so," was Roger's answer, "and in a little while when we have made ourselves secure we will talk to him. But let us see to this matter, and keep a careful eye on the stairs below. I have been watching, and so far I have seen no one venture to ascend."
Some minutes later, when the two had contrived to drag all their unconscious enemies to the top of the stairway and had carried them down a few paces, they returned to the chapel, taking the priest with them. They found the noble seated in one corner, thoroughly resigned, and eager to talk to his captors. As Roger entered he rose to his feet, and bowed with every sign of humility.
"I did not hear your words down in the court below," he said, by way of excuse. "I was one of the few who came to take part in the procession, but I stood some way outside the cage. It is only now that I have learned from your servant that you are no Spaniard. Till you brought me here I thought that you were one of our hated enemies, those who have brought such misery to us, and have killed our king. Remember, when you spoke to the priest you used the tongue of these ruthless invaders, so that it was natural that I should take you for one of them."
"And now you know that I am of a different nation. I came to these parts with comrades, and met the Spaniards in battle. I am ready to fight them again, and will aid your friends if they will allow me. But they must never attempt to attack me again, or to drag me to this temple."
"I will explain all to them, and shall hope to convince them," was the answer. "But they are angry. Listen to their shouts. Our gods have been insulted, and they call for some atonement. A sacrifice is needed to appease our deities. Now tell me from what country you come, and what has brought you here."
"Gladly," said Roger. "But first I will see that we are not caught napping. Tamba, take post at the top of the stairway and keep watch. Let me know if you observe any movement."
He sat down on the fallen idol while the native went to carry out his orders. Then he told the Mexican how he had sailed from England, and how he and his comrades came, hoping to obtain gold and silver and jewels.
"They are prized in our country," he said, "and we were ready to barter fairly for them. Our hold was filled with useful articles, which we were prepared to exchange."
"And these comrades. Where are they now?" demanded the Mexican.
Roger shrugged his shoulders. "The Spaniards kept them from returning to this coast to pick me up," he said. "They may be anywhere. I have had no news of them."
"Then I can speak of their whereabouts," said the Mexican, suddenly. "Our spies tell us of much that is happening, and our couriers have brought news of another ship seen off the coast. It was chased by the Spaniards, and guns were fired. Then it appeared to the north, and a landing was made. Your friends are now trading along the coast, and there you will find them."
The news came as a huge relief to Roger, and he could almost have shouted with joy. Then he suddenly remembered his position, and gave vent to a groan of disappointment.
"Find them!" he said disdainfully. "Find them, when some thousands of your countrymen are endeavouring to see me sacrificed! How am I to get to this coast, when this tower is surrounded by men who are eager to have me killed?"
How indeed! Even the noble with whom he conversed could not explain that, while the hoarse murmurs from below, the blowing of horns in the temple courtyard, and the obvious anger of the priests and of the crowd, made it more than probable that escape would be next to impossible, and that nothing but the death of the tall stranger would atone for what had happened. But Roger was a youth who had been born with a stubborn nature, and now that he had crossed swords with these superstitious natives he began to have less fear of them. He had gained the upper hand in a miraculous manner, and had now captured the summit of the tower, and also two important hostages. He had only to hold out a little while and something might happen to bring relief. The thought led him to remember that food and drink would be necessary, and at once he went to Tamba, to find the native seated on the edge of the tower, carefully watching the flights of steps below.
"There is much excitement," he answered, in reply to Roger's question as to what was passing; "and once I saw a procession of priests and fighting men coming towards the tower. But they went on and disappeared. But the crowds still line the towers over yonder, and the house-tops."
"Which makes it appear as if they had not given up thought of the sacrifice. Well, we must disappoint them. Tell me, did you find food in the bags of any of those who fell?"
"None," was the answer; "but there are other buildings here, and perhaps a search will produce something."
Roger went off at once, and entered every one of the smaller buildings which were on the top of the tower. There were, in fact, four smaller towers rising from the corners of this big erection, on which stood the statue of the war god, and in each were several apartments, the fittings of which showed that a priest or priests were accustomed to live there.
"Probably the fellow who keeps the fire going," thought Roger. "The Mexican tells me that it is never allowed to die down save once in about fifty years. Then there is some ceremony, and a fire is kindled somewhere on the mountains outside the city. There is one of these horrible sacrifices too, and then the fire is sent in portions by means of flaming brands to every city under the Mexican sway. Then, if a fellow lives here there will be food and water, and perhaps a bed."
It was not long, indeed, before he came upon the latter, and presently discovered in an adjoining room a bin with bananas and the remains of a bird, which was probably a turkey. There was also an enormous jar containing water, and near at hand another with some liquid, which he afterwards learned was a native wine called pulque, used to this day throughout the country.
"Then we shall not starve," he said, with a feeling of satisfaction and with rising spirits. "I fancy we have little to grumble at, for this top of the temple is an excellent place to defend. We can see everything that is happening below, and stand high up, so that we can beat back the attackers. And we could drop things on them."
That set him thinking, and he went off at a run to join Tamba.
"Anything happening?" he asked brusquely.
The native shook his head.
"Then call me if there is. I am going to make arrangements for defence."
He ran to the chapel, where he found the priest sitting up, looking feeble, and talking in low tones to the captive noble. The latter rose at once, and bowed with the same signs of humility as before, while the other greeted Roger with a look which spoke of animosity and hatred.
"Give him the warning," said our hero, glancing at the priest. "Tell him that I will fling him to the ground below if he makes any attempt at escape. Then come with me. I have need of your service."
He stood at the door watching the priest, and noted his pallor as the news was given him. His looks of hostility were less marked, and for a moment it appeared as if he would ask for clemency from his captor. But Roger would not wait, and, beckoning to the noble, led the way across to the part where he had discovered food and drink. There were some heavy benches in one of the rooms, and an assortment of articles kept for the comfort of the priests, while outside stood three enormous stone bowls, filled with earth and scented blossoms, for the Mexicans were very fond of flowers.
"Lend a hand," said Roger, curtly. "Now push, and we will get this across to the stairs. After that we will barricade the entrance to this little place with the benches."
An hour later all was in readiness. The bowls, which were massive affairs, blocked the summit of the last flight of stairs, while their new quarters were more effectually guarded than had been the case when the idol stood in the way. The priest also had been removed to his new quarters, and so well had Roger's threats acted, as well as the remembrance of his strength and rough handling, that there seemed little doubt that the man would prove faithful and give no trouble. Roger and Tamba stood on the edge of the tower, looking down at the streets below, where there was less movement now. At their feet, and piled at intervals round the tower, were heaps of stones, or bricks, which they had wrenched from the sides of the smaller towers, for all were constructed of clay and earth, to which a facing of bricks had been added.
"They are fairly small, and one can throw them easily," explained Roger. "We will use them in case of attack, and I rather think that that will be as soon as darkness falls. If they win their way up the stairs we will stand behind the flower jars and strike at them with our swords. Fortunately we are now well supplied with arms."
"And there is food and drink too, as you tell me, master. We are fortunate. I begin to think that these Mexicans will do as their noble has done. They will change their minds, and will see in us valuable friends who can help them."
"Not till they have attacked again," said Roger, with assurance.
Nor did he prove to be mistaken, for as the dusk came, and it was no longer possible to see the lowest of the flights of steps, a movement was heard below.
"Men at the foot of the stairs," said Tamba, who had wonderful hearing. "They are coming."
Roger listened intently. Then he took an armful of bricks, and holding them against his chest with his left arm, began to hurl them down the side of the tower. He had carefully marked the spot to drop them from during the daylight, and now he had the satisfaction of hearing more than one clatter on the stairway. There was a sudden shriek and a scampering of many feet. After that, silence surrounded the tower, and though Tamba crept to the bottom, no one was to be seen. Then silence settled down upon the city, and the darkness became extreme. Nothing, in fact, could be seen save the flare of a number of sacrificial fires, which blazed upon the altars perched upon the summit of every tower. The scene was weird, for occasionally a gust of wind would stir these flames, and they burned up brightly, allowing Roger and Tamba to obtain a glimpse of the streets and the courtyards below, and of the water which surrounded the city. Then all was blackness again, save for the fires and for the occasional figure of an attendant who replenished them.
