This Fierce Splendor (45 page)

“Oh, no. No.” Her arms tightened around him, feeling his guilt and pain as if it were her own. For a moment she had wanted Durbin dead, and she didn’t have the excuse of being the unthinking boy Dominic had been those long years ago. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”

“Maybe, but I know how Durbin feels. I’d probably feel the same way if it were my son.”

So he would continue to let Durbin send men like Torres after him until someday … She couldn’t bear to think about it. There must be some way to stop this horror from happening again and again.

“But Torres isn’t close tonight?” she whispered.

“There’s no sign of him.”

She drew his head down and kissed him with a passion that held a tinge of desperation. When he lifted his head they were both trembling. She began unbuttoning his shirt. “Then don’t you think we’d better take advantage of our privacy while there’s no danger of being interrupted?”

*   *   *

The earth was trembling.

It was a movement so faint, she knew it hadn’t jarred her out of sleep. What was it, then?

Azuquita brayed harshly.

The other animals moved restlessly.

A wild rustle of wings shivered through the air as birds suddenly left the trees for the sky.

Then the mists of sleep vanished and she remembered …

She jerked upright, fear catching in her throat. “Dalkar!”

“What are you doing?” Dominic asked sleepily.

“Did you feel something?”

“No.” He raised himself on one elbow. “What?”

“I don’t know.” She made a helpless motion with one hand. “Something …”

The trembling had stopped.

Azuquita was quiet.

The birds had returned to their trees.

“A dream?” Dominic asked gently.

“Perhaps it was a dream.” She lay down again and cuddled closer to Dominic. “It was so real. Sayan felt the Sun Child trembling but she wasn’t afraid for herself. Only for Dalkar.”

He laughed softly. “I believe you’re still half asleep. Who are Sayan and Dalkar?”

“Sayan was the high priestess of Kantalan who saw the vision in the flames and handed down the prophecy. I thought you knew about her.”

“I vaguely recall Rising Star telling me something about her a long time ago, but I’m afraid I was more interested in tales of the treasure.” He slowly began to stroke the soft hair at Elspeth’s temple. “Though I don’t remember her speaking of any Dalkar.”

“Dalkar was Sayan’s lover. She loved him so much …”

“Do you often dream of Kantalan?”

She nodded. “Lovely dreams. Sometimes they’re sad but they’re always beautiful.”

“But you were frightened tonight.”

“This dream was different. Not like a dream at all.”

Yet, she thought, it had to be a dream and the trembling of the earth she had felt must have been only an extension of that dream. Dominic hadn’t felt the trembling nor did he seem to feel the uneasiness she was experiencing.

“Dominic.”

“Uhmmm?”

“How close are we to Kantalan?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a day’s journey until we get through these foothills and then a half day’s climb to get to the waterfall.”

Close. So very close. “What if we can’t find the waterfall?”

“Then there won’t be a pass. There won’t be a Sun Child and there won’t be a Kantalan.”

“Nothing,” she whispered.

“There will still be you and me and Killara.”

The earth trembled again. She could tell by Dominic’s expression that he didn’t feel it. Perhaps she had only imagined that most evanescent of movements of the earth. “Yes.” She closed her eyes and snuggled still nearer to Dominic, trying to ignore the whoosh of wings as the birds once more took to the sky.

The waterfall was exactly where the map indicated, streaming from a height of over two hundred feet to crash on the boulders that bordered the large lake.

Dominic emerged from behind the mist of the waterfall almost as wet as if he had charged through it and urged Blanco forward, picking his way gingerly over the rough rocks toward the spot where Elspeth was waiting on the bank of the lake. “The pass is there. The lake extends back beyond the falls about thirty feet. Once we’re out of the water there’s a narrow trail that winds up between the walls of rock of the mountain. The path is pretty rough, but as far as I can tell, it’s clear. Which is something of a miracle considering it’s been over three hundred years since it’s been used. There was every chance the pass could
have been blocked by landslides.” He took Azuquita’s lead rope from her.

The mule promptly sat down on the bank.

“That’s all we need,” Dominic said, irritated. “He’s been as cantankerous as the devil these past two days. I practically had to push him up the lower slopes.”

Elspeth didn’t answer, her gaze was fixed in compulsive fascination on the darkness beyond the silver spray.

“I don’t know why I should be surprised.” Dominic was tugging futilely on the lead rope. “If there’s any way to make a situation worse, a mule will find it. We’ll be lucky if we get him off his haunches by dark. I wanted to be through the pass by—” He broke off as he turned and caught a glimpse of Elspeth’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Her gaze didn’t leave the dark entrance to the pass. She moistened her lips. “It’s real, isn’t it? It was all true.”

Dominic let the lead rope go slack as his eyes narrowed in concern. “I thought there was no question in your mind that Kantalan existed. This is what you wanted. Why are you afraid?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“I could go on alone.”

She shook her head. “I’m being foolish. Of course I’m going.” She urged the mare forward. “I suppose I’ve dreamed of Kantalan so long, I’m afraid of being disappointed. How do I get Nina to swim?”

“Just follow me and hold on tight. The mare will know what to do. We’ll stop and change clothes once we’re out of the lake.” He dropped Azuquita’s rope and grabbed the burro’s lead. He turned Blanco toward the waterfall.

“What about Azuquita?”

“He can sit there until his tail rots off,” Dominic said grimly as he disappeared behind the falls. “I’ve had more than enough of our ‘little sugar.’ ”

Elspeth followed him, letting Nina have her head. She gasped as the mare entered the icy water.

A raucous bray broke the silence. Elspeth glanced
back over her shoulder to see Azuquita still sitting on his haunches, glaring at them with an expression Elspeth would swear was supreme indignation.

Then the mule was lumbering to his feet and a moment later was in the lake, swimming hurriedly after Dominic and emitting loud shrill brays.

Elspeth began to laugh helplessly, the lilting sound rising above the roar of the waterfall and echoing off the stone ridges of the pass. “I told you Azuquita liked you,” she called to Dominic.

Dominic looked over his shoulder to see Azuquita swimming directly behind him. “What do you mean? He just thinks he’s going to get a chance to drown me. Can’t you tell he’s cursing me?”

Elspeth laughed again. She couldn’t deny that Azuquita’s braying held a surly note. “Perhaps you’re right. I think you’d best get out of the water quickly.”

Her laughter faded, but she felt distinctly grateful to Azuquita for putting at rest her strange feeling of reluctance to enter the pass. Now eagerness and excitement were once more beginning to claim her. She watched Dominic’s horse begin to clamber up out of the water onto the trail and her knees unconsciously tightened, urging the mare forward.

The Sun Child, powerful and majestic, came into view when they were still some distance down the trail. Towering two thousand feet above the mountains around it, the volcano’s upper reaches were composed entirely of gleaming gray-black lava rock while its foothills were verdant with trees and shrubs.

Then they came to the crest of the trail and Elspeth forgot everything but the view before her.

Kantalan.

They stood on the summit, looking down at the city spread out before them. The strong rays of the afternoon sun streamed down, bathing the ancient buildings and pyramids in golden light.

Elspeth gazed spellbound, scarcely breathing.

“Are you disappointed?” Dominic asked gently.

“No. Oh, no,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful. It’s everything I dreamed it would be.”

Dominic’s gaze was on Elspeth, and he knew if there was not one particle of treasure in the city below them, he would still be grateful they had come to Kantalan. He would remember that expression of glowing radiance on her face until the day he died.

“The four rivers aren’t rivers at all.” She pointed to a narrow ribbon of water seemingly emerging from the foot of the Sun Child itself. “They’re manmade canals. Isn’t that interesting?”

“It seems to be to you,” he said with an indulgent smile. “Though I can’t understand why.”

“Because it’s clear the people of Kantalan deliberately tried to recreate their home city. Atlantis had four rivers intersecting like a cross, so when the colonists came here they dug canals to mirror the landscape they had known. It’s much more significant than if the rivers had been natural.” She drew a deep breath and her words tumbled out eagerly. “You know, if Atlantis was the birthplace of civilization, then it probably also contained the Garden of Eden. All of the legends of the garden mention four rivers. The Hebrew scripture says, ‘And a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads.’ The Scandinavians claim their sacred Asgard was watered by four primeval rivers of milk. The Chinese Tien-Chan was irrigated by four perennial fountains and the Slavratta of the Hindus possessed ‘four primeval rivers’ that flowed north, south, east, and west.” She paused. “Like Atlantis.”

“And Kantalan,” Dominic said. “But if these canals are manmade, you won’t find Eden here.”

“No.” Her gaze hadn’t left the splendid city in the valley below. “But if Kantalan is a mirror of Atlantis, perhaps it’s also a mirror of Eden.” Her heels nudged Nina forward. “Come on, Dominic. I can’t wait to see more.” She was already several yards down the trail as she called back to him. “Do you suppose that large square building is the temple?”

The grounds surrounding the imposing building she had indicated were tangled and overgrown and bore no resemblance to the lush glory of Eden. Yet even as they rode through, it was obvious this had once been a formal garden, a classical one, with pools and fountains, flower beds and paths. However, it became clear as soon as they opened a massive twelve-foot set of double doors that this was not a temple but a palace. They looked into a chamber that was unquestionably a throne room.

A heavy layer of dust coated the white marble floors and the columns decorated with gold frieze. A double row of statues on alabaster pedestals formed a walkway leading across the vast marble expanse and up the three steps to a splendid elevated throne.

“It’s gold,” she whispered. “That throne must be pure gold.”

Dominic nodded. “And, if I’m not mistaken, those jewels inlaid in the back are rubies.”

Her gaze wandered around the huge empty room. “How beautiful it must have been.” She took a step closer to one of the statues lining the approach to the throne, an elephant so exquisitely crafted, it appeared ready to raise its trunk and sound a triumphant trumpet through the cobwebbed stillness of the room. Her finger gently touched the satin smoothness of that trunk. “Ivory. Where did they get large enough quantities of ivory in this country to carve statues of this size?” She turned to him, her eyes blazing with excitement. “And this is an
elephant
. Elephants are found in Africa and Asia, not here. How would they be able to carve an elephant in such detail if they’d never seen one? There have been a few other cases I know about of a discovery of statuary like this. There was a wooden elephant found in the mounds in Wisconsin and similar artifacts found in the Cahokia mound in Illinois. Don’t you see? They must have brought these statues with them, though I can’t see how that would have been possible. Or it could be that the people originated in a place where they could have seen elephants.

He nodded and started across the room toward an ornately carved door to the left of the throne. “And I’ll bet they brought more with them than a bunch of statues.”

“Where are you going?”

“If this is the palace, where else would the royal treasury be but here?”

“Oh!” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her tone. “Now?”

He stopped and turned to look at her in surprise before smiling understandingly. “You want to find your temple and see if there’s any more evidence of similarity?”

She nodded. “The temple is the storehouse of learning in most societies. I thought perhaps I could find a tablet or—” She stopped. “But naturally you want to see if the treasure actually exists. I can wait.”

He hesitated and then turned and walked back toward her. “So can the Kantalan treasure. What’s a few more hours after three hundred years?” He took her hand. “Which building should we try next?”

“The pyramid in the center of the city,” she said instantly. “The shape had a mystical significance to the Egyptians, perhaps it’s the same here.” She paused. “I wouldn’t mind going alone.”

He shook his head. The city appeared silent and deserted, but that didn’t mean there were no dangers. He wanted to be within hailing distance if Elspeth ran across a snake or other wild creature. “We’ll leave the pack animals here. These gardens seem as good a place as any to set up camp. Let’s go. You’ll want to be able to look through the temple before dark.”

Dominic was sitting on the stone steps and stood up as Elspeth came out of the temple and hurried toward him. She was carrying two large but very thin stone tablets in her arms, and he could tell by the excitement on her face that the question he was going to ask was completely unnecessary. “You found what you were looking for?”

“I think so. The hieroglyphics on these tablets are
completely unfamiliar. It may take years to decipher them, but there’s a chance the entire story may be here.” She crossed the road to where Nina was tethered and unfastened the thong of her saddlebag and took out the MacGregor plaid. She wrapped the tablets carefully and put them into the saddlebag. “The lodestone is in the big room in the center of the temple. At least I think that’s what it is. I wonder what they used it for.” She whirled to face him. “Oh, Dominic, you should have gone in with me. There was so much to see, so many strange and wonderful things to discover.”