Dennis Wheatley - Unholy Crusade

`O people! Our august captive has agreed to accept the fate that I believe the gods to have decreed for him. We shall now make sacrifice to learn if he is in truth acceptable to them.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw his three Captains led away behind him. Guessing that they were to be sacrificed before he was, he called out to them to have courage. To his immense relief the chair in which he was still sitting had been set down facing outward, so his back was to Chac Mool and he would be spared the horror of seeing his men murdered. To plead for mercy would have been useless and escape impossible. All three of them were brave warriors and he knew that they would go to their deaths without any futile struggle.

There fell an utter silence that seemed to last an eternity, then a long, low moan, followed a moment later by a ghastly scream of

agony as the priest tore the heart from his first victim's body. As he held it aloft a thunderous roar surged up from the multitude below.

The palms of Adam's hands were damp and he was thankful that his face had been painted, for he knew that the blood had drained from it, leaving it chalk white.

A moment later the victim's bleeding body was carried past Adam by four priests and thrown outward with all their force. With whirling arms and legs it hit the steps of the pyramid and tumbled grotesquely down them, to be seized on by other priests and borne away.

There was silence for some minutes, then again came the wailing groan, the agonising screech and the great shout issuing from the throats of the thousands of spectators. And, again, the body was heaved down the pyramid.

For the third time there fell the nerve racking silence, to be followed by the sounds that seemed to pierce Adam's own racing heart, and the third sacrifice was completed.

His turn had now come. The sweat was pouring down his face and his nails were biting into the palms of his hands. In vain he strove to force from his thoughts a mental picture of the sharp knife being driven high up into his chest and ripping down it, then of his ribs being forced apart and his heart being dragged from the bloody cavity.

Another tense silence, longer than those that had preceded it, followed the immolation of the third victim. Unseen by Adam, the priests behind him were examining the hearts of their victims to judge their mystical significance. Although now almost petrified by fear, he cursed the delay in facing his ordeal; for he was striving to comfort himself with the belief that once it was over his spirit would be released and happiness await him in a reunion with friends already dead who would be waiting to welcome him.

At last a noble appeared on either side of him, took him by the elbow and raised him to his feet. He expected them to turn him about and lead him the few paces to the Chac Mool. Determined to make an end befitting a Toltec ruler, he mustered all his courage, rose to his full height, pushed them aside, turned and took a step towards the now blood soaked idol. Quickly they seized him by the arms and turned him about again.

As they did so, he saw Itzechuatl raise his arm high, enjoining silence on the great assembly. Next moment his voice rang out:

`O people! Our gods are kind. The hearts of those sacrificed to them show that they accept our august captive as a Man God who will bring victory and prosperity to our nation.'

A burst of cheering came from the priests and nobles up there on the top of the pyramid. Its significance was caught by the multitude below and within a minute it was drowned by the deafening applause of the people.

As it subsided, Itzechuatl made a low obeisance to Adam. One after another the other priests and nobles followed suit. His escorts then lowered him again into the elaborate carrying chair; the bearers picked it up and began the descent of the pyramid.

For some moments he could hardly grasp that he was to be spared. Overwhelmed with relief he was only vaguely conscious of being carried through the masses of men and women who, section after section, ceased their cheering as he approached to do him homage by falling to their knees and lowering their foreheads to the ground.

Subconsciously he took in the fact that he was being taken not to the Pyramid of the Moon but towards the Palace which lay on the far side of the Pyramid of the Sun. Until his captors had defeated the Toltecs and driven them from Teotihuacan it had been his Palace, and he had always resided there when conducting the great religious ceremonies of the year.

When they reached it and he was escorted inside he was pleased to find that it had not been looted. Instinctively he walked towards the suite of rooms he had occupied. As he entered it the nobles withdrew and were at once replaced by servants who deferentially unrobed him, washed the paint and sweat from his face and bathed him in the sunken, silver lined pool.

As soon as they had dried him he dismissed them and, wrapped in a light gown of the finest cotton, he walked through to his bedroom. There, utterly exhausted, he flung himself down on the leather strap sprung bed. After a few moments he turned over and caught sight of his reflection in a highly polished stone mirror that hung on the wall.

With a start he sat up and stared at himself. As a Toltec Prince he had naturally supposed that he would resemble other Indians in features and colour, but the face he was looking at bore no likeness to any that he had ever seen. Instead of being a reddish brown, the skin was pale pink, the eyes, instead of black, were blue, the lower part of the face, instead of being hairless, was covered with a thick, curly beard and, most staggering of all, both beard and hair, instead of being black, were a rich red gold.

Utterly bewildered, he fell back on the bed and lay there striving to think of an explanation. But his tired brain could take no more and, after a few moments, he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 6

The Eavesdroppers

WHEN Adam came to, he was lying on his face with his arms outstretched. Picking himself up he found that the palms of his hands were grazed, his knees bruised and that his wrists, from having taken most of his weight as he hit the ground, ached painfully; but otherwise he was uninjured.

Ruefully he saw that one leg of his brand new suit was badly torn at the knee. That, and the fact that he was covered with dust, was ample evidence that he had had a nasty fall, but he had not yet climbed the pyramid. To rejoin Chela and admit that he had funked the climb just because he had fallen down would, he felt, be a shocking loss of face; so, although he was feeling rather groggy, he pulled himself together and walked slowly towards it.

As he did so, it entered his still hazy mind that he might have been unconscious for a considerable time. If so, Chela would already be wondering what had become of him and he ought to rejoin her at once. But a glance at his watch showed him that he could not have been `out' for more than a few minutes, which he found surprising.

Starting up the first staircase, he pondered his vivid memories of the shattering past experience he had just relived. It explained much that had been obscure to him about his vision after he had been knocked down by Senior Enriquez's car, and he was now able to co ordinate the two.

In this recent vision he had relived a period of time that had preceded the other by very nearly a year. It was clear now that after he had succumbed to Itzechuatl's pressure and gone through the ceremony of `Acceptance' on the Pyramid of the Sun, he had been consistently drugged, so that he should appear among the people as entirely carefree and, presumably, happy in the knowledge that when his time as a Man God was up he was to give his life so that they might prosper. In addition, the drug had served Itzechuatl by dulling his prisoner's faculties, so that he would forget the fate awaiting him and not attempt to escape. But he had escaped.