David Golemon: Legend

Now here he stood, trying to decide if he should make their last stand or continue the insanity of running deeper into the green hell beyond the lagoon. The men knew there might be something here because of those giant pillars, but they had lost all interest in riches and just wanted familiar sights. Even to return to Pizarro was preferable to this madness.

Maybe the villagers would take the decision out of his hands and just leave them be. The captain would then personally report to the fool Pizarro that the expedition had been for naught, that nothing but death awaited any man in the distant valleys of the Amazon.

While Padilla wrote his thoughts down into his personal diary, the map he had made of their travels fell from the back pages where he had placed it. As he bent over to retrieve it, he hesitated momentarily, as he was suddenly tempted to leave it to rot on the ground. Then he considered his men, picked it up, and placed it back into his journal.

His thoughts of leaving the map so no one could follow were broken by the harsh laughter of the very man who had caused so much horror in the last twelve hours. Such a display of pleasure after the spilling of so much blood seemed wrong. The captain looked over at his men. Joaquin Suarez was kneeling by the water, his hair freshly wet after washing the blood from himself and his armor. The soldiers around him looked on and shook their heads. Everyone knew now that this man was a danger to them all, because of his recklessness.

Padilla reached down and retrieved his helmet, and that was when he caught a glimpse of a strange visitor to their makeshift rest area. Huge eyes were there for the briefest of moments before whatever it was scurried off through the thick foliage, using the jungle for cover as it slid silently into the waters of the lagoon. Captain Padilla looked around to see if his men had seen what he had, but they were busy washing and lying on the thickly carpeted grass; some of the more experienced soldiers were even knelt in prayer. He once again peered into the thick undergrowth for some sign that the little creature had been there at all, but saw not a trace. He quickly came to the conclusion that it had been nothing but a trick of his overtaxed mind and the darkened jungle floor. Suddenly there was a rustling of bushes behind him, and his hand went to his sword.

"My captain," Ivan Rodrigo Torrez, his friend and second-in-command, stepped from the dense growth of the forest, "the Indians have disappeared." Torrez removed his helmet; his long black hair fell free as sweat poured from his face and beard. "One minute, we were watching them from a clearing about a half a league from here, and the next minute, they fell back into the jungle and were gone. Our trail into this valley was so obvious, they must know where we are." He took a breath and looked around him as he loosened his armor. "I expect them to double back this way, so I placed the men in an excellent position for ambush, but thus far they haven't come."

Padilla patted his old friend on the shoulder. "That is just as well; I can't do this any longer." He lowered his hand and looked around at the darkened area under the thick canopy of trees. "I just feel like resting here for a month before returning and reporting this horrible thing we have done." He pulled the front collar of his armor away from his soaked tunic. "Maybe I'll swim out to the only spot here that has sunlight hitting it and remain there until the Lord pulls me under." He looked at the magnificent waterfall and then back toward the center of the large lagoon and the bright dapples of sunlight that lit the blue waters and made them sparkle.

"I, like most of the men, feel like cutting Suarez's throat for bringing this evil to our doorstep," Torrez said angrily.

"I can't think on that now, my old friend, I am weary to my very bones. Besides, in the end, it is I who will be judged for this debacle, not Suarez."

"Surely Commander Pizarro will not blame you for the actions of this maniac?"

"Pizarro is not an ordinary man and he has little or no patience for incompetence. I can assure you I will be judged harshly for losing his nephew and a chance at finding the Indians' source of gold. For my failure, the Sincaro will be extinct or enslaved by this time next year," he sighed. "I had the arrogance to believe I could do this another way; I am but a fool."

Loud laughter once again sprang up from the beach area. As both officers turned and walked toward their men, another round of raucous howling came from the lagoon. Upon entering the small clearing they saw Suarez hold something in the air as the other soldiers hooted loudly, several even patting each other on their backs. As they looked closer at the strange object the soldier was tossing into the air, they saw it resembled a small monkey. Then Padilla realized it was the same creature he had spied looking at him from the bush only moments before. The captain could clearly see the small animal and its remarkable resemblance to their chattering companions that lived in the trees. In his diary he had listed many different varieties of monkey and other strange animal life, but this was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before in his many travels. On this expedition he had become quite knowledgeable about the far-ranging species that inhabited this new continent, thus the animal that Suarez held in his hands so casually was something he knew to be very special.

"Captain, we have a captive; this little clown tried to steal my satchel with the last of our bread," Rondo Cordoba, the quartermaster, said while gesturing toward the small creature Suarez was toying with.

Padilla and Torrez joined the men to take a look at the creature up close. It was a monkey, or what a monkey would look like without so much as a hair on its body. The facial features were close to that of a man, except for the lips. They framed many sharp teeth and were thick, the upper lip much larger than the bottom one, and the ears were but small holes in the sides of its head. The tail was slick as a taskmaster's whip and it swung back and forth quickly. Padilla surmised that the animal was agitated at being thrown into the air by Suarez. He saw small protrusions of skin like a spiny sail that flared outward down its back every time it was tossed upward.

"Stop tormenting that creature, you ignorant fool!" Torrez commanded loudly.

Suarez stopped, looked angrily for a moment at his captain and then at Torrez, and, without removing his eyes from the two men, arrogantly tossed the small animal into the air again. He caught it and then concentrated his stare on the captain in a silent challenge. Padilla drew his sword and pointed it at the larger man's throat, pressing the blade enough that blood was soon collecting on its steel surface. His eyes were locked on Suarez's and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. He would enjoy sliding his sharp blade into the throat of the very reason for their current predicament, no matter if they needed all the men they could get at that moment.

"As you can see, you fatherless child, our captain is of ill humor today," Torrez said, smiling, as he watched Padilla and a seemingly unshaken Suarez.

Suarez ignored the sword and the neck wound, still holding the animal tightly. He quickly changed his grip to hold the creature by its throat. It made choking sounds; its tail was now jittering in small movements that were more of a spasm than a swing.

Padilla pressed the blade farther into the man's neck, and the arrogance that had been there a moment earlier was replaced by a worried frown, as Suarez just then noticed there was no laughter from the men around him. He saw there was only expressions of anticipation for his seemingly imminent death.

All this time, the animal's eyes never left those of Padilla. It was if the small creature knew it was the subject of the standoff and was awaiting the captain's next move. While the sword remained in place, Suarez slowly lowered the creature to the white sand that made up the small beach and the monkeylike animal scurried not toward the jungle or the water, but behind the captain. The beast jumped up and down and spat at Suarez, and jabbered as if cursing the large soldier. As Suarez straightened up, Padilla did not withdraw but pushed the gleaming sword forward, bringing a more satisfying flow of blood to the blade, where it rolled slowly down the shiny surface and dripped onto the few feet of pure white sand.