CHAPTER 13
Ambush
An engineer. Now that's what I call sommat," said Paddy savouring the word.
"I'm going to be trained by someone and there's all kinds of machines and 'quipment down there, it's massive, I'm dead lucky," said Davey.
"Yeah lad, you sure are, there's many a man would give his right hand for what you've got. And it's all down to Fatty Fegan. Have yer told her, what did she say?"
Davey grimaced but smiled, "She give me a hug and a kiss."
But Paddy was off 'pollyticking', "Capitalists lad! they're the cause, every man has the right to work. Now if Winnie Churchill would get his act together and forget about gold standards none of this'd be 'appening. But I'll not hear a word said against him, he did the Royal Scots proud and got his hands dirty with the best of 'em."
"Why does everyone want gold so much Uncle Paddy?"
"Greed lad. Gold is money, money is power, power is what all the little men want to 'ave over the big men, an' I'm not talking size lad, do yer foller me drift?"
"Yeah, but why do they have to start killing for it? Why is it so important?"
"Yer a young 'un lad, so you've still got a lot to learn. In many a way yer old before yer time," he nodded to himself, "but in others yer've got a long ways to go. Take these Inkers, do you reckon them Spanish are over there for the good of their health?"
Davey shook his head.
"Course they ain't. Only one thing they're after lad. Gold. Look at this." He thumped a big book onto the bed, "Sent the old girl down the library, come back with that. Look at them, they're all in there, a whole nation lad, that's what we're talking 'ere, MILLIONS. All destroyed for lumps of flippin' metal. It ain't right lad it just ain't right."
"Do they all get destroyed. Is that what the book says?" asked Davey.
"Those Inkers were so busy fighting each other or using clubs against cannons. Sooner or later they 'ad to lose."
"Should we tell someone about what we've seen Uncle Paddy. I mean it's important isn't it?"
"You start telling anyone about this lot and they'll lock yer up and throw away the key. The funny farm's the only place you'd be goin' if yer breathe a word of it lad. Promise me you'll not do anything like that, I'd never be able to live with meself if yer got into trouble," said Paddy looking very worried.
Davey laughed, "Suppose you're right Uncle Paddy. Does sound kind of crazy doesn't it. We're looking in a mirror so we can help someone who's been dead for hundreds of years, but it's weird isn't it. I wish I could understand what it's all about. What's going to happen to the girl and her sister when they get back to the city?"
"I've been puzzling it out all day lad, there's more pieces to this than a flamin' jigsaw. There's only one way to find out, stick yer 'elmet on and let's get on with it." Paddy's face was beginning to light up.
"The Shaman saw me last night in the mirror Uncle Paddy. Do you think he knows we're watching? I was chased today by a load of rats maybe he had something to do with it."
Paddy chewed his lip, "I wouldn't put anything past that feller, anyone that can go round turning themselves into a snake has got to be a slippery customer," he prodded Davey, "do you get it lad?"
Davey forced a smile, the joke did nothing to remove his fears.
"Come on lad, it's under the bed. Remember we're doing this for the girl - not for George and flippin' England.@
Still not feeling sure that he was doing the right thing Davey gave in to Paddy's insistence, he put the helmet on and looked into the mirror.
"It's Lord Axa and his men," he said still uncertain.
Through the depths of the jungle moved a file of nine men. Clad in their jaguar skins, faces painted in startling colours, carrying only war-clubs the warriors looked quite terrifying. Feathers of the eagle and condor swayed menacingly in the wind of their passage.
"Do yer stuff and 'ave a look round, let's see what they're up to this time!" Paddy was almost bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.
Up out of the jungle their view rose, Davey looked all around, far to the left of the Incas position the great river arced in a silver ribbon. They swept over to it and, as Paddy guessed, beneath them they saw the column of Spaniards working its way along the bank. They had travelled a good distance, the river was beginning to narrow. In places the column was pressed close to the waters edge either by the jungle or by great rock columns. A jaguar was spotted slinking across one of the rock columns stalking strange monkeys which had staring eyes and striped tails.
AThat reminds me of that tattooed man Uncle Paddy.@
AWhat lad? The monkey?@
ANo the big cat. The one on that man was a tiger, they come from India don't they?@
AYer not wrong, yer right.@
AWell maybe he'd been to India or come from there? Those signs the Shaman was scared of were foreign looking.@
ADon't prove nothin' lad the demon barber of Steble Street would carve them things into yer for a few shillings.@
AJust thought I'd mention it,@ Davey said sounding disappointed that his idea hadn't received much consideration.
Paddy detected the tone in his voice, AGet a grip lad, yer doin' great, look what's happening here!@
Under orders from the commander to ensure that the flanks of the column were protected Francesco assigned ten musketeers to the task, they peeled off from the main body and entered the jungle. Within its gloomy silence the men primed their muskets which had been dampened by spray rising from the river. They peered intently into the surrounding vegetation. All sound from the river was soaked up in the jungle's vast expanse, the men listened hard for the faintest movement.
Davey returned to the warriors. They followed the line of least resistance, skirting round obstacles in their path, sometimes seeming to almost double back upon themselves rather than waste valuable energy in climbing over a rough hillock or in having to hack their way through a dense thicket. The sun was their only means of positioning but they scarcely glanced at it as they glided silently between the ancient trees.
"MOVE YOURSELF!" shouted a warrior full into the old man's face as yet again he slipped and slowed their progress. Manco had the most hatred in him, "Murderer and dog!" he yelled jerking hard on the rope which tied the old man's wrists. The old man fell down catching the side of his head against a tree trunk. Manco raised his club and aimed a vicious blow which would have finished him but Lord Axa ran in and punched the warrior on the shoulder. Knocked off aim, the club buried itself into the ground.
"Do not bring harm to him!" Axa ordered. "Kabah stay and guard this man, the enemy are near."
Abandoning their fearful costumes the warriors slipped away through the trees, they travelled for some time before halting at a small stream which sliced through the jungle floor before running on to plunge into the river chasm. From the banks of the stream they scooped out thick handfuls of mud and smeared their bodies from head to toe until only the whites of their eyes showed. After rolling in the leaf litter they became so perfectly camouflaged as to be practically invisible.
No words were exchanged as Axa positioned each man across the trail that the musketeers must take, he examined their places of concealment from different angles then lay down amongst them.
The snapping of light twigs announced the proximity of the musketeers. Not until Lord Axa gave his battle-cry did the warriors leap to their feet, the nerve of the troops was shattered as the ground around them suddenly became alive and the air was filled with war cries.
"Over here!" "FIRE!" a few shots were loosed wildly into the air. "Keep close order!" "RETREAT!" confusion and panic reigned as the warriors swung their great war-clubs. Only two men escaped to run shrieking in fear but warriors tore swiftly after them clubbing them to the ground.
All eyes in the column were turned towards the forest. "Detail a squad in support!" ordered the commander to the sergeant. Men drew swords and ran into the trees lashing out at branches which impeded their progress. The animals in the column,
already made nervous by the narrowing of the bank, were startled. "Hold him fast!" yelled an officer as a mule lost its footing and threatened to slip down into the racing waters. The animal screamed as its hooves scrabbled for purchase on the edge of the precipice. "Heave it up or let the beast go!" the officer yelled to the muleteers who struggled to preserve its life.
"It is laden with gifts from the Incas, Sir!" shouted a soldier above the roar of the cascade.
The officer did not hesitate but drew his sword and slashed through its harness. "There be plenty more were that came from," he shouted as it fell. The mule howled in terror before it sank deep, threshing wildly as it tried to free itself from the weight of the load.
The column remained on alert until long after the troops had returned carrying the broken muskets of their comrades. They dropped the weapons at the feet of the commander. "It seems like we shall have to play a game of tag-and-run until we leave this jungle behind," he remarked coolly to Francesco.
Francesco nodded in agreement, "The tactics will cause us disruption."
"Check out the Inkers lad, I reckon there's no way this Axa feller's goin' to let these Spanish figure out his game plan."
Far ahead of the column the river bank met and merged with a rocky ledge, it climbed, ever steeper, upwards into the foothills of the mountains. Along the ledge the warriors trotted. Far beneath them the river bellowed as it complained at being forced between the hard and resistant rocks. Although slowed by the old man they had travelled fast. As they climbed the jungle had given way to forest, still higher and the forest thinned. Finally it became isolated copses of trees which clung precariously to the gorges and chasms carved by the river as it battered its way to the sea. By the late afternoon they reached a point where the rock ledge narrowed to the width of a spear throw then climbed crazily upwards before dog-legging back to a more level course.
"It is at this spot that we must seek to stop them," said Axa. "A strong defence will prevent their passing."
Another warrior spoke, "My Lord, with our clubs we will hold this pass against any force, nothing will defeat us!" he yelled waving his club in the air.
Topac spoke, "My Lord we cannot withstand the sticks of thunder, they will kill from a greater distance than a spear can be thrown."
Axa realised he was right. He pursed his lips trying to find a means of overcoming the difficulty.
The warriors looked frightful, they had looked fiercesome before but now with their painted faces and bodies smeared in mud and caked with leaves they seemed more like demons. He told his warriors, "We cannot defeat these men unless we suffer great losses, we must fight with cunning and guile, up there lies our answer." He pointed a powerful arm vertically upwards at the cliff face which soared high above.
"Told yer lad, this lot are miles ahead of the Spanish, they'll be having all kinds of problems back there."
"Should I take a look Uncle Paddy?"
"Hey lad yer doin' a grand job, you're the man for it. Don't be asking me what to do I'm just a pawn in this game. Go where yer want, do what yer want, I'm just along for the ride. If I can 'elp I will but don't foller me, I'm lost!" he laughed.
The column was delayed as much by its detailed preparations for defence as it perhaps would have been if it had actually been attacked. "Triangles" of men were deployed in sections which could cover each other should any section be attacked. Each triangle consisted of a pikeman, a swordsman and a musketeer so that every eventuality could be covered. It was good soldiery and brought words of praise from Paddy.
When finally the column left the last thin trees behind the whole force breathed a sigh of relief.
"I believe that we should carry out the wishes of Father Salamanga and finish our questioning of the Inca captive," said the commander, "it will help to divert the attention of the men from the loss of their fellows if we learn more about this golden city he has spoken of."
"Bring up the captive!" ordered the sergeant-at-arms.
Vargas and Ricardo walked to the head of the column half-carrying their weakened prisoner, the priest followed, his hands occupied with rosary beads.
Bonampak was flung to the ground at the feet of the commander.
"Ask him how many of those carts could be filled from the gold in his city," said Francesco to
Carlos.
Bonampak made no sound.
"So you be not for talking now, eh!" said Vargas. He waved his knife in front of Bonampak's face. The fear in Bonampak's eyes was plain to see but he remained silent.
A tree which clung to the chasm face above the river was pointed to by Ricardo. Its roots had welded themselves to the rock thereby preventing itself from hurtling down into the surging waters below. A rope was brought and flung over a branch, willing hands fastened the rope round Bonampak's ankles, then with a heave over he went. The men on the bank howled as others pulled and jerked on the rope sending Bonampak swinging like a pendulum in ever increasing arcs. When his head was only inches above the mill-race Ricardo told the men on the rope to let go. Bonampak splashed down, the current was allowed to drag him deep before the rope was taken up and he was retrieved, coughing and choking.
Men jeered, "Bet he'd like to talk now!" "Look at his face," "He's swallowed half the river!"
The nobleman was high-born. His anger flared inside him like a rage of fire. Better to die than to suffer such humiliation, he began jerking fiercely, the branch of the tree started to creak and bend.
"Haul him back in," ordered the sergeant. The men began pulling but the captive was determined to escape them even if such escape might mean his death. He jerked even more furiously, his ankles began to slip from between the thick strands of rope. Vargas swiftly sliced through the rope, with ankles still bound Bonampak plummeted downwards. They watched him struggling in the whirling waters as he was whipped along in the current.
"No matter," said the commander, "we'd learnt enough from him."
Father Salamanga made the sign of the cross towards the still struggling body.
The column continued; baggage was picked up, weapons and military accoutrements were shouldered, mules were whipped into line, horses were urged to take up the strain and they began the long struggle upwards.
"What in Mary's name is that!"
"It's someone at the door Uncle Paddy! You don't think...?"
Paddy listened, they heard the shout, "Open the door in the name of the law!"
"Naw lad, it's just some flippin' poet. Eh up! It's the coppers, they've come about that Queerk feller. Quick lad, in this cupboard get the gun, hide it!"
Davey scrambled round in the cupboard and found the rifle. "Where can I hide it?"
A loud knock came on the bedroom door. "Make yerself flippin' invisible, it's me only chance!@
"We're coming in!" came the cry from outside. Two policemen walked into the bedroom. "Evenin' sir," said the policeman whose three stripes indicated that he was a sergeant.
"Evenin' occifer," said Paddy looking very suspicious.
Davey stood alongside the mirror with the rifle behind his back, his eyes were firmly shut as he willed himself not to be seen.
"They've come about a shootin'," cried Mrs Murtagh from the landing, the size of the policemen prevented her from entering the room,"They say someone was shot round 'ere the other day!"
Paddy had adopted an angelic expression, "Well I never, what's this street comin' to?"
"Do you know anything about it Sir?" the sergeant looked out of the window, "From up 'ere you've got a pretty good view of what's happening."
"Haven't a clue what yer goin' on about. Who was shot then?"
"A Mr Quirk. Teacher up at Wellington Road. Took a slug in the jacksy."
Paddy tutted.
"You haven't any air-weapons on the premises have you Sir?"
Paddy gasped and gulped, "No occifer, I'm not fit enough to get out me bed. That right Mum?" he called hoping for support.
"Well not really Paddy, yer up and do
wn these stairs quick as yer like when it suits yer." She mouthed to the policeman at the back, "Waterworks yer know."
"Mind if we have a look round Sir, just to satisfy ourselves, you know, eliminate you from our enquiries?"
"No," gasped Paddy.
Mrs Murtagh hurried downstairs and stuffed a towel into her mouth. Her body racked back and forth as she tried to control her hysterical laughter.
The policemen made a thorough search of the room. Davey squinted through his eyes and was amazed to find the policemen had not noticed him. He kept on willing himself to remain invisible for what seemed ages.
"Thank you for your time Sir," said the sergeant. "Make a note," he turned to the constable, "checked Paddy Murtagh's place - all clear." The constable scribbled in his notebook.
The sergeant turned back to Paddy as they were leaving, "'evenin' Sir."
"'evenin' occifer." Paddy could barely speak.
As soon as the men had left the room and descended the stairs Davey started to relax but Paddy was still sat rigid.
"You alright Uncle Pad?"
"Flippin' 'eck, that was a close one, I was nearly in the Black Maria there lad."
"They didn't see me Uncle Paddy! Could you see me? I must have been invisible!"
"Soon as they go, get rid of that gun." Paddy was beginning to gasp for air.
Downstairs the policemen were talking in low voices to Mrs Murtagh who had just about composed herself.
"Didn't take much to that Quirk feller meself," said the sergeant.
"Deserved shootin' if you ask me," said the constable, "me brother lives next to him, them Quirk's make his life a misery, always at it like cat and dog they are."
Mrs Murtagh passed them a hot cup of tea. "You've done a fine turn with my Paddy, he won't be plannin' on shootin' anyone else in a hurry."
"Did you see his face when I opened the cupboard door!" said the sergeant. They stood restraining themselves from laughing.
"And what about that lad, what on earth was he doin' standing there like a flippin' hat-stand? Didn't he think we could see him or something?" laughed the constable.
"Playin' war I reckon, he had a helmet on," joked the sergeant.
"Thanks for leaving him alone, he's a lovely boy, God knows what 'e sees in my Paddy."
"Always happy to oblige Mrs M," said the sergeant. They swilled their drinks down.
"There they go, coast's clear lad, go and chuck the thing in the canal!"
Before he was able to leave the room Mrs Murtagh put her head round the door, "Well fancy that, a shootin' in Copperfield Street, who'd have thought...You alright lovey?" she asked Davey.
"Fine Mrs M," he coughed.
As soon as she had closed her bedroom door Davey crept downstairs, wearing the helmet so that nobody would be able to see him. Not being able to bear the thought of throwing the weapon away he tore round behind his house and specked it behind the outhouse.
"Thank Christ for that!" said Paddy upon his return, "Come on lad, get back to them Spanish, I need sommat to take me mind off what's 'appened. Mind you it were worth it to see that Quirk's face!"
Towards the day's end the mountains had began to close in upon the column, the river had dropped so far below that it was but a strip of pearl flowing rapidly through the deep gorge it had carved. Ribs of exposed rock layers rippled far above the ledge formed by one of the rock layers which allowed the column to thread its way along.
The surrounding mountains caused nightfall to come early, guards were placed at the head and foot of their position. Cliff and chasm were natural defences to the flanks.
The officers sat around a camp fire over which a deer roasted on a spit, the fire flared as fat fed the flames. In the ruddy light the commander was holding court.
"It is my belief that this campaign will go down in the annals of history, thus far we have made excellent progress." He stared at his subordinates as if daring them to criticise.
"It has perhaps been a little too easy," answered a junior officer named Domingo who was noted for his stupidity if not his bravery, "the men were upset today by the courage of the Inca, it has been said we will encounter tough opposition."
The commander ridiculed him, "That is if they have the brains to realise that we are not their gods," he laughed and the others joined in with him, "if you are a god Domingo then God help all of ....." his voice trailed off as Father Salamanga approached, "Father I was just saying how well our mission seems to be going to convert these heathens to the true faith."
"Ah yes, my son, the one true faith, I should add," replied the priest, he was about to say more when a distant rumble was heard and felt, as the rocks they were sitting on trembled.
"What was that, was it the voice of God, Father?" asked Joaquim.
"Calm yourself my son and rest your superstitions, when the Lord speaks there is no doubt it is His voice." The priest gazed piously towards the heavens.
"It was a rock-fall," said Carlos, "such are common occurrences in the Pyrenees where I was raised."
"Carlos, take a few men and investigate," ordered Francesco, immediately giving him cause to regret volunteering his opinion.
Davey leant nearer to the mirror, they witnessed Carlos returning, it was well into the night.
AClever lad, yer getting the knack of this,@ Paddy praised him.
"The ledge is destroyed, there does not seem to be any way round but I will check out all possibilities at first light."
"Very well, thank you Carlos, now let us rest gentlemen," ordered the commander.
"What's 'appened up there then?" asked Paddy, "tell yer what lad, it's up to you, but how's about whipping up there and shifting things back a ways so we can see what happened. We might have missed sommat.@
Davey did as he was asked.
"The warriors have climbed that massive cliff Uncle Paddy!"
"How on earth did they get up that? Them fellers must 'ave sprouted wings."
High on the cliff top the dying rays of the sun illuminated the warriors position.
Labnah and another man were pleading with Axa.
"But my Lord, this rock-fall could be used to kill many of the enemy."
"It is more important to delay these men and give Hotchas time, the warriors in Sit-Nalta must be prepared and ready to fight, we cannot depend upon the rock-fall to hit the invaders. If we make a mistake then they will pass onwards," replied Axa.
Far below the ledge stood out like a hair's breadth from the sheer wall of the cliff face. Their leader had spoken, the men followed his example. The slopes at the top of the cliff face were littered with loose boulders and stones. The warriors began hurling boulder after boulder onto these scree slopes, eventually the added weight proved too much and the whole mass of debris began to slide, slowly at first but then ever quicker until with a loud screech it sheared off the slope and dropped with great force over the cliff. After the cloud of dust had cleared the warriors were able to see that a large section of the pathway had been torn away.
"We have done it!" they praised each other. "Nobody will pass. The city is saved!"
"Sit-Nalta will never be safe, not while these men live," said Axa. "they will not let this obstacle stand in their way."
"How my Lord?" asked a warrior, "there is no other way up to the city in this valley, their forces will never climb as we have and if they retreat they will be too late to reach the city before the winter snows set in."
"If that is what it takes that is what they will do," said Axa, "they have set their minds on it, it will not matter whether it is this year or next. We must be ready for them."
The warriors realised the truth of his words.
"Now we must journey to Sit-Nalta," he turned to Topac, "go back with Manco, watch these dogs and learn all that you can, do not put yourselves at risk, your information is worth much to me."
Topac and Manco trotted away as the small group continued towards Sit-Nalta pulling the old man along behind them.
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