Golden Relic (25 page)

"Maybe. But first you explain how you can be working here with all these people, yet rumours of
you being alive did not circulate like the stories of your many deaths."

"They all think I'm Xavier Tremaine," Pavel shrugged.

"A pharmacist from Melbourne?"

"Tis a good strong name, your father's. And what would they know, eh?" he waved his hand around
the compound. "I've got nothing but young blood working here. None of these, these children know me
from Adam, or from Pavel for that matter."

"Or Schliemann?" Sam asked.

"Or him either," Pavel laughed. "Now I know why you have come. But where is Noel?"

Maggie took a deep breath. "He's dead, Pavel. Really dead, unlike you."

Pavel's good humour dissolved. "Oh no, dear Noel. When was this that he died?"

"Nine days after you sent him the postcard from Cuzco," Sam explained. "And a day after he sent a
similar card to Lloyd Marsden."

Pavel's eyes narrowed as he glanced from Sam to Maggie. "I fear it is only bad news you bring.
Something has happened to Lloyd too, no?"

"Yes," Maggie confirmed, placing her hand on Pavel's arm. "He was murdered in Melbourne two weeks
ago."

"Merde! He was murdered? By whom?"

"We don't know by whom, but we were hoping you might be able to tell us why?" Sam said.

"Moi? Me, but why? Our business should not have come to this."

"That's not all of it," Maggie said, fishing around in the vest under her shirt. "Alistair died
in a car crash last year and Jean McBride was killed by a hit and run driver just before
Christmas."

"
Madre de dios
," Pavel swore. "Just like the crazy who tried to run me down." He ran his
hands through his hair. "I thought Noel was just panicking. This is very bad."

"We think all these deaths are connected; that they were
all
murdered," Sam stated.

"Yes," Pavel said, as if it was obvious. "I can maybe explain, but it is a strange and long
story."

"You can start by explaining what these are," Maggie demanded, handing Pavel the gold digits.

"Oh my god," Pavel slapped his forehead. "It all gets worse. When did you arrive in Peru?"

"On Friday," Maggie said. "Why?"

"This explains the earthquake," Pavel moaned, holding up the gold thumb.

"What earthquake?" Sam asked.

"Five days ago you arrive in Tahuantinsuyu, and five days ago we have a very big tremor here in
the city of the last Inca king."

"Pavel this is not Vilcabamba," Maggie stated.

"No, of course it isn't, Maggie. This is
Inticancha
, the last refuge of Tupac Amaru."

"Inticancha," Maggie repeated. "The sun's courtyard?"

"Yes, or the 'enclosure of the sun god' or even more simply 'Inti's House'. But however you
translate it, this was the home of Tupac Amaru, and many of his followers continued to live here for
23 years after his death." Pavel handed the fingers back to Maggie.

"I've never heard of Inticancha," Maggie said shaking her head. "And I don't recall any reference
or even legend that suggested Tupac Amaru lived anywhere but Vilcabamba."

"Vilcabamba was the front line, this was the fall-back position," Pavel explained.

"How do you know?" Maggie asked excitedly. "I mean how can you be sure?"

"I found a sort of diary in one of the tombs and my team, this time, found documents sealed in a
box under the Sun Temple. Written documents, Maggie, dated from 1544 to 1595."

"Written? What do you mean, written?"

"Why is that odd?" Sam asked, noting that the archaeologist in Maggie had taken over and she
seemed to have forgotten not only her anger at Pavel, but also why they had come all this way.

"The Inca had no written language, Sam," Maggie explained. "They had a very efficient system of
counting and accounting, using coloured and knotted strings called
quipu
, but they had no
written symbols to record their language. Nearly everything we know about the Inca prior to the
conquest came from the writings of Spanish soldiers, priests or travellers who were recording a
conquered people's oral history. This was a mix of fact, legend and pagan beliefs, and
their
writings of course were filtered through their own prejudices, motives or understanding."

"The same can be said about many of the documents we found here," Pavel noted. "Those that
recounted the stories of the Inca Empire are, as you say, a blend of historical truth and colourful
mythology. But there are also observations of daily life and a journal which, though not regularly
kept, recorded major events as they happened, including the death of Tupac Amaru and the last days
of Inticancha. The writer, Vasco Dias, was a Portuguese traveller who lived here, lived the Inca
life, for nearly 50 years."

"This is mind-blowing, Pavel," Maggie exclaimed. "Why are you keeping this discovery secret?"

"But I am not," Pavel declared. "We have been working here for two years now and keeping our
sponsors well informed of our progress. While I admit we have not announced to the world that we
have made this great discovery our reports and research say as much - without actually saying
it."

"So you are keeping it a secret," Maggie said, shaking her head. "You announce the minor finds to
keep the excavation funded but you neglect to give them the whole picture."

"Naturally, Maggie. I want no interlopers here, trampling the place with their enthusiasm,
until…"

"Until you have finished your work and published your own paper," Maggie finished.

"What can I say?" Pavel shrugged. "But my main concern, as always, is the sanctity of this place.
The balance between the tangible and intangible here is very delicate. Until we reclaim Inticancha
from the jungle and restore its connection to the Incas who lived here, we cannot understand the
etiquette of the place. And I will not have ignorant foreigners traipsing irreverently around the
ruins until we have secured the Courtyard of the Sun from all possible violations."

Uh, oh, whacko alert, Sam thought.

Maggie, typically, was much more direct. "For goodness sake Pavel, what
are
you talking
about?"

Pavel gave Maggie a look that said she should know better. "For nearly 400 years," he said, "the
huacas
hid and protected Inticancha from all those who would violate it. They have allowed us
to work here, unharmed, because we mean no harm or disrespect."

"What is a
huacas
?" Sam asked, wondering whether she really wanted to know. The great
Pavel Mercier was beginning to sound like some New Age guru.

"A
huaca
is a talisman in which the spirits of the gods reside," Pavel explained. "The
Inca ascribed supernatural power to a variety of objects, natural and handmade, to places they
regarded as holy sites such as a caves, mountains or special rocks, and to natural phenomena like
storms, an eclipse, or even the birth of twins. Sickness or bad luck was thought to be punishment
for neglecting the
huacas
. When cutting stone for building the Inca would take great care not
to disturb the spirits. The sculptor who carved the Intihuatana over there, for instance," he said,
waving at the hitching post, "would have taken away from the original stone only those parts that
were not occupied by
huaca
. Some
huaca
are even endowed with the power of
commination."

"The power of what?" Sam asked.

"The power to seek vengeance or exact punishment. Before Vasco Dias and the last few surviving
Incas closed the gates behind them when they left in 1595, the high priest called on the
huaca
to curse any trespassers who walked with malice within the walls of Inticancha."

"Oh Pavel, not more curses," Maggie moaned.

"Yes curses, Maggie. Do not laugh. The power of the
huacas
within these walls is palpable.
Even these cynical young people who work with me have come to respect it. Every illness or accident
amongst our team can be traced to an unintentional violation of the trust we have been given. In
fact my very first visit here ended in disaster because one of our number maliciously breached that
trust."

"Was that in 1962?" Sam asked.

Pavel looked taken aback. "Yes. How do you know this?"

"It was the Professor's photo of Manco City taken in 1962 that led us here," Sam explained.

"No, my dear, it was this," Pavel pointed to the gold digits in Maggie's hand, "this
huaca
that guided you here."

"Get a grip, Pavel," Maggie snapped. "Sam's quite right, it was the photograph. We had no idea
what these fingers were or where they came from. I fear you've been indulging in too many mind
altering substances with all this talk of
huacas
. You're a scientist, man, or have you
forgotten that?"

"No, my darling, I have not forgotten," Pavel laughed. "But I also recognise that there are some
things in our world that science simply cannot explain. You hold in your hand part of Inticancha's
most powerful
huaca
. It has brought you and Sam on a great journey to find the truth of it,
and you reached the city safely because it recognised that your intentions are honourable. But just
look at the havoc it has caused, so many dead friends."

"Pavel," Maggie moaned, "our friends are dead because a living, breathing human being is prepared
to kill to get his hands on this valuable golden artefact. Pure and simple. No curses, no magical
mystery tours, just plain unadulterated greed."

"But Maggie," Pavel sighed, "everything is connected. "The tremor we felt here marked your
arrival in this country. This was not a coincidence but a message from the
huaca
you carried
to the spirits of the Incas who once lived here, that the Hand of God had come home to
Tahuantinsuyu."

"The Hand of God!" Sam declared. "That's what 'hanosgoo, hancsgoc' means."

"Hanosgoo, what is this?" Pavel asked.

"Professor Marsden left a note, or he tried to. We couldn't decipher it because he was dying, and
probably hallucinating, when he wrote it, so the message wasn't complete."

"Hallucinating? Lloyd?" Pavel queried.

"The Professor was poisoned with a lethal cocktail of peyote and curare," Sam explained.

"
Merde
!" Pavel was horrified. "But who would be so cruel? Maggie, Sam, please explain
everything. Tell me about Lloyd and Noel and how the
huaca
led you here."

Maggie glanced at Sam and rolled her eyes, but together they told Pavel about Lloyd's death,
their reasons for believing that Noel and the others were also murdered, their suspicions about the
Rites of Life and Death team, and all the clues that had brought them, finally, to Inticancha.

"This is too terrible," Pavel pronounced, when they were finished. "It is
all
tragic but
poor Jean was not even involved. She was not one of the Guardians."

"Guardians of what, Pavel?" Maggie asked cautiously.

"Of the
huaca
, of course. There were only six of us sworn to protect the Hand of God. Jean
was not one of them."

"It's time to come clean, Pavel," Maggie stated. "Will you please tell us what this is all
about."

Pavel stood when a banging on the other side of the campsite announced that dinner was ready.

"We must have food," he said, when Maggie started to object. "Come to the cafe, I will talk while
we eat. This is a long story with two parts, although now we seem to have a third instalment."

The 'cafe' was five tables set up under the huge trees on the corner of the plaza. While they
waited for the cook to spoon out thick stew into their tin plates Pavel, claiming Maggie as his
sister, introduced her and Sam to the four men and two women who made up his team.

"Do not drink the coffee. It is diabolical," Pavel warned. "There is water and juice in the jugs
on the tables. Go, sit, I will bring the bread." He pointed to a table set apart from the others.

As Maggie passed Richarte in the dinner queue she tapped him on the arm. He stooped so she could
whisper in his ear, then gave a short laugh and nodded.

"What was that about?" Sam asked as they sat down at the table.

"I don't intend to go without coffee, so I asked Richarte to brew some for everyone."

When Pavel joined them he started talking about the day's work until Maggie whacked her spoon on
his plate. "Pavel, please stop beating around the bush and get to the damn point," she begged.

The big man shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. It is habit. But, you're right, I will begin. This
whole thing, this mystery that has brought you here, started during the height of Inca resistance
against the Spanish. Remember the Indians had no frame of reference for our calendar so these
events, as related to Vasco Dias, happened when they happened," Pavel said, throwing his palms up,
"sometime after Manco Capac's unsuccessful siege of Cuzco city. Sam, do you know about this?"

"I know the basics about Manco, Tupac Amaru and Vilcabamba," Sam replied. "If I get lost, I'll
ask questions."

"Okay, and I will put approximate dates on these events. After the siege Manco, along with his 20
or 30,000 warriors, we cannot be sure of the number, retreated into the jungle where he began
rebuilding his kingdom and the new city of Vilcabamba. In about 1538 one of Manco's soothsayers
informed him that the
huaca
of the 'Silent Springs', a small waterfall in the hills beyond
the city, wished to speak directly to the king. Now this was unusual because the invisible powers of
the natural world could only communicate with the intermediaries, or soothsayers, who had the
ability to understand the language of the
huacas
and interpret omens.

"Manco was escorted to the Silent Springs where he was given some
vilca
, an hallucinogenic
plant that aided communication with the
huaca
, and then left alone. On the second day of his
quest he was visited not by the
huaca
of the springs but by the Sun God himself. Inti came to
Manco in a vision, laid his right hand on the rock wall beside the Silent Springs and revealed a
vein of gold, which he extracted and laid at the king's feet.