David Golemon: Legend

"The age isn't what concerned me, my captain, it was the forms themselves. I would hate to run into one of those while bathing, I'll tell you."

Padilla laughed loudly and was about to comment when a shrill, piercing scream ripped through the night around them. The small creatures who had been playing in the sand screeched at the noise and shot off for the water, making little splashes as they dove for the safety of the lagoon. Padilla and Torrez were up in a second, Ivan with his sword drawn.

"What is it?" Padilla called to his men as they entered the circle of light cast by the fire. The soldiers were angry, yelling as they pointed forward toward the small shoreline.

One man stood apart from the others, holding the limp and obviously lifeless body of one of the little creatures. He clutched it by its broken neck and it dangled, almost formless, in the firelight.

"You bloody bastard!" one of his men yelled. "Why did you have to do that?"

The soldier who was standing and facing everyone was none other than Suarez. The huge man stood his ground and stared back at the others, almost daring them to make a move toward him. He wore no armor and his scarlet shirt glimmered in the firelight as if with blood.

"What is happening here?" Padilla asked, knowing all too well the answer to his question.

One of the soldiers stepped forward, a boy of only twenty, pointing out to where the big man stood.

"That bastard did that for no other reason than a lust for killing."

"He bit me, and I will kill anything I wish, man or animal," Suarez said, still looking at the group rather than at his superior officer, shaking the lifeless body of the harmless creature.

"The man is mad, my captain; we must put him down as we would a dog with the foaming sickness," Torrez hissed, stepping closer to Suarez and forgetting his earlier words of restraint. His sword was pointing straight at the big man's chest.

"He bit you by accident; you're the one that pulled the bread away and allowed his teeth to strike your fingers instead," another man said as the others shouted agreement.

"Suarez, you have caused enough trouble and it ends here, now, tonight," Padilla stated flatly and without emotion. He reached over and made his lieutenant lower his sword. "This will be my responsibility; you will stand down, my friend."

"You must not go into armed combat, my captain; we cannot risk losing you. I will do it."

Suarez tossed the dead creature onto the sand, backed up three paces to the water's edge, and slowly drew his sword.

"I will make quick work of anyone that comes for me," he said, slicing the blade through the air.

The rest of the soldiers placed hands on swords or pistols, demonstrating their willingness to dispatch Suarez. They would make sure he brought them no more ill will.

"Stand down, all you men," Padilla said as he advanced, drawing his own thin blade, not removing his eyes from Suarez. "This is your captain's duty."

Suddenly, small explosions of water erupted from the lagoon as dozens of the small creatures burst through to the surface, some clearing the water by two and three feet. They hurriedly swam to the far side of the lagoon, and before the men knew what they were looking at, the fast and agile animals were all scrambling up trees and large bushes on the opposite shore. They jabbered back toward the water they had just exited and then grew suddenly quiet. That was when the men noticed the animal sounds in the deep night had ceased, as if the entire jungle had grown mute while the two Spaniards faced each other.

Suarez had backed farther into the water as he waited for the advance of Padilla. But he had turned at the small creatures' noisy flight from the lagoon.

"Rondo, take five men and follow the shoreline and see what you can see. Something has frightened them," Torrez ordered.

Rondo pointed to five men. They broke free from the group and started to slowly walk down the slim shoreline, buckling their armor and drawing their swords as they did so. Rondo cocked his two pistols and then placed himself at the head of the small band of Spaniards. They walked cautiously, and then they disappeared around some bushes at the turn in the lagoon.

Padilla was as calm as the night around them as he advanced on Suarez. He slowly brought his sword up toward the other man's barrel chest. Suarez smiled and moved deeper into the water while moving his own sword in a slow, deliberate arc, parting the lagoon's surface with a swish of the blade. When he saw how much anger etched the face of Padilla, he backed deeper into the dark water.

The remaining men in camp froze when they heard the large man shout out in terror as he was grabbed from beneath the water. His legs were jerked out from under him so hard that in one moment he was screaming, and in the next he had vanished. Suarez surfaced briefly, splashing and in shock, the whites of his eyes showing brightly, then he was quickly pulled into the lagoon before he could utter a second cry of pain or terror at what was happening. He completely disappeared below the rolling surface. Nothing but bubbles and two quick slashes of his shining sword marked his trail to death's door.

"What in the name of God was that?" Torrez yelled as he ran to the water's edge.

Suddenly the gaping soldiers saw new bubbles and a sharp V-shaped wake along the surface of the water as something else traveled fast toward the far side of the lagoon — toward the spot that Torrez had sent Rondo and the five others. The sounds of splashing and then screams of terror split the quiet night, and then two loud reports followed as Rondo fired his pistols. Then among the screams of men and the dying echo of the gunshots they all heard a sound they would take with them to their graves. The roar was like a deep echo of the worst imaginable enraged demon from their nightmares. The horrid sound reverberated and sent chills down their spine.

The screams of the six Spaniards ended as suddenly as they had begun, and in an instant the night became still once again.

Torrez appeared at the stunned Padilla's side, pressing his armor into his hands. The captain sheathed his sword and slipped the heavy iron onto his back and chest. Then they looked again toward the spot where the men had disappeared just moments before. A dark figure of a man emerged through the bushes and stumbled forward, obviously wounded. Two soldiers ran to him and brought him into the bright circle cast by the firelight. There were deep gouges in the man's face and arms, as if he had been mauled by a tiger. The punctures in his armor were deep and ragged; his left eye was missing. He cried out, claiming for all to hear that the Devil had risen from the water.

Padilla ran over and knelt next to his soldier. He grimaced, as the young man's wounds were some of the worst he had ever seen. The rest of the men turned back toward the lagoon and watched fearfully. The jungle was again quiet around them. The captain heard the man cough out the same words as before, only the ending was different: "The Devil has risen from the water, and he has come for his offering." Then the wounded soldier's eyes were devoid of life, as his pain ended and darkness covered him.

Padilla didn't hesitate in ordering his men to form up. The sentries had entered the campsite with swords drawn and flintlocks aimed. They had lost seven men in as many minutes to something in the lagoon that he cared never to see or hear again. He would leave this place, retreat, and nevermore venture into the jungle. They would return to Pizarro and tell him they were cowards and that he could punish them however he deemed fit; Padilla would gladly suffer anything not to be sent here again.

"We march west tonight, and we stop only when we are under the light of the Lord's sun once again," he announced.