Fallen Idols

By Cèdric Daurio

Fallen Idols consists of two works by the author that share the same genre, most of the central characters and, ultimately, the central objective of the action, the search for treasures of great material and cultural value. Both are novels of romantic suspense, and although they are obviously narrative creations are based in the rich historical humus of our continent.

At the beginning of Golden Legend a 10th century saga narrates the arrival of a Viking castaway to the Mayan cities. He is accepted as an avatar of the God Kukulkan and marries a Maya Princess.

A genetic thread links those misty characters with a young Mexican archaeologist and through her with the members of an expedition set to find El Gran Paititi, legendary lost city of the Incas. Myths about lost civilizations are recurrent in all cultures because they exert an irresistible romantic attraction on the human soul. The search unfolds first in the Amazonian jungle between Peru and Brazil and in the forests of Peruvian highlands afterwards.

The expedition has attracted the attention of dangerous people led by a former Soviet intelligence officer who are looking for Paititi by its riches to put them at the service of a world power restoration project.

Finally, a strange millennial group of alleged descendants of the Incas intends to expel all foreigners who pollute their sacred site which they seek to preserve for the day of the resurrection of the vast Empire.

All these elements interact in the novel, creating a climate of sustained suspense and anxiety until the final climax.

Templars under the Southern Star begins when  a child finds in the Patagonian beaches some strange stones carved with text  fragments written in Latin and a cross of eight points. This triggers the action in the present, when the child´s family members, including a Mexican archaeologist of Maya ancestry and her husband analyze the stones. Realizing the Templar origin of the inscriptions, it begins an arduous quest to uncover the fate of the treasure. First contact is a Swiss anthropologist living in the city of Bariloche, in a region of lakes of the Argentine Patagonia. One of their surprising findings is that there are still descendants of the Templars forming a millenarian brotherhood advocated by the values ​​of their ancestors, based in remote areas of the Andean-Patagonian forests. Thither are headed the scientist in a research expedition. Their departure is detected however  by a group of large-scale predators of cultural, artistic and archaeological treasures acting internationally, led by a mysterious former KGB colonel. They send a powerful armed group in the footsteps of the explorers.
Scientists make contact with members of the brotherhood, jealous care of their heritage, that includes not only material goods but one of Christianity's holiest objects according to the medieval conception.
Guided by the archaeologist, equipped with a special sensitivity for the detection of arcane, searchers are directed to a point inaccessible forest, in their search of the treasure .It is in  those places where bursts a bloody conflict between the warring factions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oscar Luis Rigiroli
• Release date: Sep 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386716600

Cèdric Daurio

Cedric Daurio es el seudónimo adoptado por un novelista argentino para cierto tipo de narrativa, en general thrillers paranormales y cuentos con contenidos esotéricos. El autor ha vivido en Nueva York durante años y ahora reside en Buenos Aires, su ciudad natal. Su estilo es despojado, claro y directo, y no vacila en abordar temas espinosos. Cedric Daurio is the pseudonym adopted by an Argentine novelist for a certain type of narrative, in general paranormal thrillers and stories with esoteric content. The author has lived in New York for years and now resides in Buenos Aires, his hometown. His style is stripped, clear and direct, and does not hesitate to address thorny issues.  

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Fallen Idols

Cèdric Daurio

Copyright © 2017 by Oscar Luis Rigiroli

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published in 2017 in the USA

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Preface

Golden Legend

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Templars under the Southern Star

Prologue

Chapter 1 Non nobis, domine

Chapter 2 Bariloche

Chapter 3 The shaman

Chapter 4 Ten Ten Mahuida

Chapter 5 Dieu le veut

Chapter 6 Fraternitas sancta

Chapter 7The Hartmann Network

Chapter 8 La Chasse

Chapter 9  Bellum

Chapter 10 Locus ignotus

Chapter 11 Thesaurus

Chapter 12. The assembly

Chapter 13 Return

Chapter 14  Tijuca

Chapter 15 The Commander

Chapter 16 Haute trahison

Chapter 17 Secretum Templii

Chapter 18 Conflict

Chapter 19 Triumphus

Epilogue Bonheur

From the Author

About the Author

Works by Cèdric Daurio

Coordinates of the Author

Preface

Fallen Idols consists of two works by the author that share the same genre, most of the central characters and, ultimately, the central objective of the action, the search for treasures of great material and cultural value. Both are novels of romantic suspense, and although they are obviously narrative creations are based in the rich historical humus of our continent.

At the beginning of Golden Legend a 10th century saga narrates the arrival of a Viking castaway to the Mayan cities. He is accepted as an avatar of the God Kukulkan and marries a Maya Princess.

A genetic thread links those misty characters with a young Mexican archaeologist and through her with the members of an expedition set to find El Gran Paititi, legendary lost city of the Incas. Myths about lost civilizations are recurrent in all cultures because they exert an irresistible romantic attraction on the human soul. The search unfolds first in the Amazonian jungle between Peru and Brazil and in the forests of Peruvian highlands afterwards.

The expedition has attracted the attention of dangerous people led by a former Soviet intelligence officer who are looking for Paititi by its riches to put them at the service of a world power restoration project.

Finally, a strange millennial group of alleged descendants of the Incas intends to expel all foreigners who pollute their sacred site which they seek to preserve for the day of the resurrection of the vast Empire.

All these elements interact in the novel, creating a climate of sustained suspense and anxiety until the final climax.

Templars under the Southern Star begins when  a child finds in the Patagonian beaches some strange stones carved with text  fragments written in Latin and a cross of eight points. This triggers the action in the present, when the child´s family members, including a Mexican archaeologist of Maya ancestry and her husband analyze the stones. Realizing the Templar origin of the inscriptions, it begins an arduous quest to uncover the fate of the treasure. First contact is a Swiss anthropologist living in the city of Bariloche, in a region of lakes of the Argentine Patagonia. One of their surprising findings is that there are still descendants of the Templars forming a millenarian brotherhood advocated by the values ​​of their ancestors, based in remote areas of the Andean-Patagonian forests. Thither are headed the scientist in a research expedition. Their departure is detected however  by a group of large-scale predators of cultural, artistic and archaeological treasures acting internationally, led by a mysterious former KGB colonel. They send a powerful armed group in the footsteps of the explorers.

Scientists make contact with members of the brotherhood, jealous care of their heritage, that includes not only material goods but one of Christianity's holiest objects according to the medieval conception.

Guided by the archaeologist, equipped with a special sensitivity for the detection of arcane, searchers are directed to a point inaccessible forest, in their search of the treasure .It is in  those places where bursts a bloody conflict between the warring factions.

Golden Legend

CHAPTER 1

The trunks of the precarious raft creaked and slid each other to the rhythm of the waves that became ever more intense, with ever higher peaks and valleys increasingly deeper. Bjorn looked sideways to the strings of the raft end that worked as bow, and noted with concern that they were deteriorated by the corrosive effect of salty water and the mechanical wear action produced by movements between the timbers. They would not last more than a few hours, and then the raft would disperse in the immensity of the ocean.

The adventure had begun two years before in Iceland, where half a dozen drakkars had set sail in the spring. It was the year 1024, although the existence of calendars in the cultural universe of Bjorn was not included.

They had sailed first heading to Greenland. This was already a usual journey for Vikings, but for Bjorn it was his first experience in ocean travel. Accustomed to the narrow valleys and cliffs of the Norwegian and Icelandic fjords, the vastness of the icy plains of the huge island had amazed him. This was the first new experiences that would expand the world of the young man to levels that he could not even suspect.

After a stay of one month in Greenland, the Scandinavian crew had again hit the sea heading west, towards the misty waters of the great ocean, following the blurred trail of Leif Ericsson and his men that had arrived to their knowledge through uncertain sagas.

After a stormy voyage, they had arrived in a beach covered by flat rocks, which they identified with the Helluland discovered years ago by Leif, a bare wilderness where they remained only long enough to repair the damage caused by the storms in the drakkars. Helluland possibly corresponds to what we today know as Baffin Bay, in the far northwest of Canada.

They then sailed for the purpose of arriving at Vinland, the site established by the Norwegians in the modern Newfoundland coast, perhaps in L´Anse aux Meadows, and in which those settlers had remained for several seasons. Continuous storms in a particularly unstable year from the climatic point of view led them rapidly to the South, while they prevented them from approaching the coasts for entire weeks, during which they suffered hunger and thirst.  Out of the twelve ships, two were presumably sunk. Another loss was the guidance provided by the narratives of former Viking travels, which had served them of reference up to there. The symptoms of scurvy, the dreaded evil of sailors that travelled without access to fresh vegetables, began to wreak havoc among the crew.

After countless days sailing shaken by thunderstorms that alternated with periods of calm in the midst of a thick haze that made it impossible for them to orient themselves, the mist finally rose  and they managed to head westward, until at the end of a day and a half they sighted the coast. This was made up of cliffs, without natural bays that could accommodate ships and allowed the travelers to reach them. The Vikings toured the winding coast outline until they finally saw a narrow strip of beach, towards which they set bow. Upon arrival they found relieved that a coniferous forest extended to short distance from the beach, which ensured them a supply of wood to replace poles, timbers, oars and even a keel, all of them broken or lost in the previous agitated days. Another favorable feature of the site consisted of a rill that emptied into the sea, which gave them access to the necessary fresh water, whose scarcity had become critical.

They remained two weeks in the place, time during which the sailors explored the surrounding area, noting that the beach was limited in its size and resources, so they decided to continue their navigation further south.

After another week of travel, they saw what from the sea seemed to be a vast plain. The drakkars were directed towards it and after docking in a cozy estuary, protected from waves and currents flowing next to the shore, they established a camp with the aim to settle in the place for a longer time. For this purpose the Norwegians built huts using the materials available on the site, basically some wood, straw, stones and soil.

They remained in the camp for about three months, during which they once again toured the hinterland, hunting, exploring and looking for traces of human population. Narratives made by Leif Erikson and other previous travelers referred to sporadic contacts, sometimes friendly and other bloody, with the skraelings, as the precursors had called the aborigines who they had found. Given their dual character of warriors and merchants the Vikings were ready to carry out peaceful or hostile contacts, but in any case the desirability of seeking contact with native people or circumvent it was an important consideration that the leader of the expedition was to carry out.

In their trips and excursions the adventurers found no Indians, but they did find traces and evidence of humans of small feet lurking in the vicinity. This confirmed their belief that they were being observed and perhaps monitored. For this reason the sailors decided to establish permanent guards at relevant points of the plain, to prevent being taken by surprise by potential attackers. The guards were carried out discreetly, seeking that they would not be apparent to outside observers. This precaution proved providential, as time would show.

Two drakkars which had undertaken the journey to Greenland replenish supplies, weapons and clothes lost in storms returned ahead of schedule. They explained that they had found the Norse settlement of Markland, located in what is now known as the Labrador Peninsula, ahead of which the expedition had unwittingly passed in their previous trip, in the middle of the continuous storms. In Markland they had obtained weapons and the required elements. The crew members of both ships brought the news that Christian missionaries had arrived in the colony from Iceland, and friction between them and the Vikings pagans who followed the traditional cult of Odin and Thor had occurred.

It had rained copiously during the night before, amid thundering and fall of lightning in the vicinity. The men had not slept enough and were tired by the forced vigil, close control and unloading the recently arrived ships, so that surveillance was temporarily relaxed. Dawn began to emerge amid the mists that were coming off slowly, giving way to an uncertain glow.

An agonizing cry broke the silence of night, from one of the men who were on duty in the North. Overcoming fatigue and sleep, defense measures that were part of the discipline of a Viking camp immediately were put into practice. The warriors woke up each other, and as everyone slept near their swords and in just a few moments were on war footing. Once determined the source of the alarm the leaders lined up their men and tended defense lines, forming a typical Viking square surrounded by shields. After a few moments of tension, with the slow emergence of clarity, the fog in front of them stood up and suddenly they saw a horde of naked and armed men, approaching from the inner fields into several undulating lines. At an order of the head of the expedition Thorvald, the Viking archers prepared their bows, and to a new cry a cloud of arrows fell on the skraelings, producing numerous voids in the first row of attackers. Survivors accelerated their race towards the Norwegians, encouraged by the small number of these. Some darts injured a few defenders, whose combat positions were eagerly covered by the men who were in the second row. Just at the moment that the Indians came close to the shields line, above these emerged a swarm of long Spears, decimating the first attackers. A new cloud of arrows fell on the aborigines that were left behind, producing new gaps in their ranks. The wave of attackers hesitated momentarily to the unforeseen events, and at that moment shields line took the field, a terrifying roar broke in unison of the gorges of the defenders and the spears rushed to the attacking horde; behind them in the emerging sun shone formidable swords of the Vikings, severing, beheading, and finally putting natives in flight who, baffled by a fighting technique unknown to them, could not halt the momentum of the counterattack. Swords and Spears competed in wreaking havoc among the aborigines now in withdrawal. The Norwegian slid on the ground soaked in blood of their rivals, who were pursued towards the foot of the rolling hills of which had arisen. When the foothills were reached, the chief Thorvald ordered his assistant to sound the horn, and the counterattack ceased suddenly. The Vikings retreated orderly, taking care to finish off wounded enemies, in a way not to leave dangers behind. Upon returning to camp, a formidable Hurrah came from sixty gorges, closing the bloody episode.

After another prolonged stay, without additional setbacks, the sailors embarked and put bow to the South to continue their exploration of areas that the Scandinavian never had reached previously.

Again they had to withstand strong storms that lasted four days and that took them far from their course. At the end of the storms, the drakkar in which Bjorn was traveling found itself isolated, without contact with the rest of the fleet. The boat, crewed by eleven men finally ended up in a muddy coast in which they descended to replenish water and food.

Bjorn moved away from the place of landing armed with a bow and his sword, in search of game. After a long and fruitless trip, he decided to return along with his comrades to rest and to assist in the erection of the camp. When he approached he heard noises that worried him, including human cries. He quickly ranged the distance to the camp until he reached a high mound; there his breathing was interrupted when he noted the situation: a fierce combat was developing on the beach between the members of the crew and a group of savages. Many fallen bodies scattered on the ground. Bjorn did not doubt an instant and embarked on what was his baptism in single combat. He descended running with his sword in the air and fell upon the rear of the indigenous sowing destruction in his wake, the first two skraelings who were lodged in its path fell with tremendous cuts in their torsos. The next confronted him with his spear but his head flew away from a single blow. The battle gained in intensity and number of attackers gradually overwhelmed the resistance of sailors. Bjorn was approaching a particular core among the natives, where he could distinguish a man who by his outfit identified as a chieftain. He thought of killing him for attempting to halt the attackers deprived of command. He threw his weight among those who surrounded the chieftain, tearing apart with his sword several custodians, and receiving several spear hits in his body, and as already was approaching his goal a blow on his head made him lose consciousness.

The Sun on the face made him wake up. He verified that the minimal movement made him feel an intense pain, so it took him a long time to have forces to stand up. He sat on the ground and there he could verify the state of his body. Lance wounds had torn it in many places, and he was practically covered with his blood and that of his enemies. On the ground laid the wrecked corpses of three of his companions, including that of Thorstein, who had arrived from Norway along with him. There were no bodies of the fallen skraelings, which surely his companions had taken away with them by retiring. The remains of the camp were still burning and there were no traces of the vessel.

In Bjorn´s mind took place a mental reconstruction of what happened on the basis of visible evidence: probably the Nordic survivors have managed to push the boat to the sea, leaving the beach, persecuted by the natives, and were not able to remove the bodies of their fallen comrades. Apparently, both they and the Indians had presumed Bjorn dead, and paradoxically thanks to that he could survive.

Bjorn remained long days in that desolate beach, while his wounds closed and his body restored his forces. He had buried his comrades, built a precarious refuge against rough weather using branches and algae brought by sea, while he precariously fed with mollusks, some birds hunted with arrows and fish speared by fortune. Unfortunately the site was miserly in food and other elements necessary for life, and pure water that emerged from a shed located inland was its only abundant resource. Therefore, the young warrior undertook the march along the coast and up to the cliffs, limiting the beach, penetrating into the plateau located behind. There he soon met the bed of a creek that ran parallel to the coast and decided to follow his course for lack of a better alternative. After a couple of hours walk, he came to a forest of deciduous trees, and assumed it would be the same that reached the edge of the cliff; tired and sore, he decided to rest before deciding his future actions. He leaned on a heap of leaves and fell asleep immediately with a dream that lasted long hours. As he woke up, his mind wandered a while without purpose, until an idea began to take shape in his brain. Using his sword, he cut several young trees whose trunks he then cleaned of branches, a task which took him a day and a half. When he judged that he had obtained sufficient trunks for his purpose, he made them fall rolling from the top of the canyon to the sea shore.

Back to the shore he worked patiently for several days assembling a raft, holding the trunks together with fibrous material of vines that grew around nearby trees. Three trunks placed perpendicular to the length of the raft, one at each end and one in the middle, gave a certain rigidity to the set; a table introduced between the trunks of stern acted as a  keel to prevent the raft from deriving sidewise in the midst of the sea. This provision would provide true governance to the raft. He had no means to improvise a sail, so left the propulsion to the vagaries of the ocean currents. For a couple of days, he collected food and fresh water, which kept inside the fruits hanging from the branches of some trees, previously emptied of its contents and filled with the vital element..

Bjorn finally entered the sea once more, hoping to find friendlier beaches with more resources for life than what he had found before. With regard to the possibility of encountering humans, his feelings were mixed. Indeed, on the one hand loneliness distressed him already, but on the other hand his encounters with the inhabitants of the lands that he had found on his way had been marked by hostility and all out struggles.

So Bjorn met in the situation where our story begins. He had already consumed all of its provisions, and the previous night a storm had made him lose all coastal reference and sense of direction. A rudimentary oar used as a rudder, in reality only a flat board, also was lost at sea in the night, and the precarious boat had not already governance whatsoever. Moreover, the crude ropes that joined their timbers already were rapidly deteriorating in salty water, which preannounced an end to navigation. Bjorn tried to overcome the gloom, but he was defeated by fatigue and lack of sleeping for so many days. He tied himself to the trunks so that the swell would not throw him into the sea, and fell deeply asleep, waves beating on the top of the raft.

He woke up with a placid heat spreading over his body. He had not experienced a similar pleasant sensation for a long time. When he opened his eyes, the strong subtropical midday sun dazzled him, forcing him to close them. He stood up heavily, and found that he was on a beach of fine white sand. High tide would have deposited him in it and now the waters had retreated. He estimated it was around noon. When turning his head to dry land, he saw a set of Palm trees that stretched towards the inside. The Eden image that unfolded marveled in his eyes, completely outside the range of his previous experiences, particularly when he recalled the gloomy thoughts that assaulted him when it was on the high seas that were in fact the last thoughts he actually remembered.

He noted with relief that his sword was still at his side, but the rest of the belongings that had once owned had disappeared, including all his clothes. In his situation, the lack of the minimum element linked to everyday life was a sensitive loss; it would be another need that could not be satisfied.

Xquic looked anxiously to both sides, noting that the men were still surrounding her. She had just waded the river, pushed by her captors, stumbling over and over again with the bottom stones, falling and swallowing water, hurting her feet and ankles, her arms tied to the warrior who was driving her as if she were a beast of burden. But the object of her concerns was her Lady, Princess Xchil, daughter of Yum Tu Kin, king of her tribe and of the city of Dzibilchaltun. Both women had traveled to the remote city of Mayapán, near the coast of the sea, so that Xchil met her future husband, son of the local king. They were accompanied by an escort of twenty warriors, led by a cousin of Xchil and selected from among the bravest of Dzibilchaltun. On the road they had been ambushed by a larger contingent of fierce Uxmal fighters, growing power among the Mayan cities of the peninsula of Yucatan and main competitor of Mayapán. In the fight without quarter that followed, Yum Tu Kin warriors were exterminated, but not before killing dozens of Uxmal soldiers. Finally, Xchil and Xquic had been captured, tied and they were being led to the city of the aggressors. The head of the contingent realized immediately that their captives were handmaidens of high rank, and reasoned that the kinglet of Uxmal would reward handsomely his capture. For this reason, he had prevented his men from raping or even touching the prisoners, since carrying them intact would increase their value. Both were young and beautiful women, one of them was richly dressed and she surely was royal family, and the other was dressed as a high Priestess, and likely were virgins, which would enhance the interest of their bosses.

After a quick withdrawal to prevent patrols of Dzibilchaltun men, the Uxmal chieftain had consented to a short break, in which the two girls could approach each other. Xquic noticed that the Princess was absent, and soon fell into account that she was entering one of her deep trances. Xchil mother and grandmother were very prominent mediums in Dzibilchaltun, and their offspring had inherited their powers. In times of great stress, the girl disconnected from reality and had visions. Xquic repressed cravings and waited for her owner to return to her normal consciousness.

After a while, Xchil relaxed the muscles

The release is close she whispered.

How you can say that, in the terrible situation in which we find ourselves? moaned distraught Xquic.

I ask that you trust me. I've had a very strong vision replied the Princess.

Xquic hesitated, unwilling to accommodate vain hopes, but the truth was that when Xchil had firm premonitions in the past, they had been confirmed in some way, however their blurriness.

At that time the head of the warriors gave orders to continue the march. Although different dialects of the Quiché language spoken in different cities had marked differences to each other, the dialects of Uxmal and Dzibilchaltun were mutually comprehensible and the girls were prepared to continue the journey, although now their despair was tinged with a little light.

They came to the clearing in the forest almost at the same time. Bjorn had a moment of anticipation, produced by the noises of the caravan of warriors and their captives. By the haste of staying away from the road between Dzibilchaltun Mayapán, the Uxmal warriors had not featured explorers preceding the troop.

The Viking had time to draw his sword and put on guard, while the native warriors emerged unnoticed from the jungle. The head of the procession gave order to attack when he saw a man alone, but his order got lost in the confusion among the ranks. Bjorn understood the meaning of the message and unhesitatingly rushed to the warriors party even before he knew how many there were. His sword opened bloody furrows between the Indians, who rolled before knowing what was happening. Some of them tried to cope with the whirlwind, but their torsos were split and their heads blown up in an orgy of blood. The trees surrounding the path formed a compact mass so that the warriors faced Bjorn in pairs, and the rest could not surround him using the advantage of the number that ultimately would had allowed them to kill him. Finally, the survivors tried to regroup but the strike force allowed no recoil, warriors hindered each other in their escape attempt, and fell under the superior strength of the Norwegian and the iron weapon against which their spears and swords were ineffective. The brave Uxmal chieftain tried to cross the lone enemy with his spear, but a blow of the sword deflected the blow and a second severed his head.

Bjorn completed his work on the last survivors and soon realized that only he was standing in the middle of dead bodies. Several men moaned and writhed on the ground, and the winner put an end to their suffering following the harsh fighting law in those times. He counted fourteen bodies including that of the head of the contingent. It was a victory against fierce and brave men and in other circumstances would have filled him with pride, but had cost him dear with the reopening of numerous injuries, and pains became unbearable, forcing him to biting his fists. At that time and despite the suffering he differentiated between some bushes some huddled bodies. He lifted up its armed wing to resume its task, but before the coup he became aware that they were women. He left the weapon on the ground, and lifted by the arm a young woman of a strange beauty, shaking and staring. The second woman, also young, stood up by herself and looked defiant at him. He could see her feminine curves under the tunic which she used, and only at that time fell into account that in combat he had been completely naked. He could not hide his embarrassment at being exhibited with a strong erection of his member; adrenaline, which had declined after the battle, rose again for various reasons. Looking at the face of the second woman he saw a strange glint in her eyes, which he interpreted not as a product of terror, but of a certain wild excitement, no doubt product of the bloody fight scene. The carnage had not produced her horror but an overwhelming burning from another source. The woman pushed him to the ground, making him lie in a pile of bloodied bodies of their enemies, and Bjorn thought she would then lay over to have sex with him. What happened instead left him perplexed. The woman approached the other girl, which until then had remained oblivious to what has happened with an absent air, took her by the hand, and led her to the man lying down. He quickly grasped her purpose. He sat on the ground, introduced his hands under her tunic, and laid it up exposing her genitals. Despite the high level of excitement of the warrior, the sex was slow and exquisite, spasms calmed suddenly by contact with the skin of the girl. Bjorn could not less than be amazed by the sudden change of emotional state which contact with the young woman had caused him.

Xchil, in an ecstasy subsequent to her trance, enjoyed the sexual act in silence, and remained quiescent once he had finished. Despite the special consciousness state her organism processed what had happened. She had the immediate certainty that she had become pregnant. Life was reborn after the massacre.

Yum Tu Kin watched carefully to the foreigner. He had listened attentively to the stories of his daughter Xchil and her custodian Xquic about the prowess in the fight against the hated Uxmal warriors, and the great slaughter carried out by one man. Xquic had insisted on the divine character of the character and Yum analyzed the consequences of having a god in the city. Despite living in a primitive society in many ways, the King was a fine politician who had managed to keep his people independent and united under his command in the middle of the great struggles between the great powers such as Uxmal and Mayapán. Precisely, the journey of Xchil had the purpose of finalize an alliance with the latter to resist the attacks of Uxmal, the city-empire of the time. Fate, however, had woven another plot, and Yum meditated if an alliance with a god was more convenient than that of the king of Mayapán. Anyway the situation had no return, since Xchil was presumably pregnant by the stranger and realistically only the only choice Yum had was to get the best out of what happened. This was not new for him, experience as King of a small town should frequently turn the need into virtue and adapt to circumstances he was not controlling. The image of a grandchild conceived in an act on a pile of dead enemies had a very strong epic value, and came to the king´s mind that presaged an invincible warrior, which would be his grandson. This image would be very suitable to seduce people if the child was a male.

Yum Tu Kin had the habit of consulting on important issues to his oldest wife, Cinteotl, mother of Xchil and the foremost sorceress of the city. He found her sitting near a campfire, tracing drawings in the ground with a knotty stick. He explained the situation and the woman heard in silence: Yum knew the ritual and sat down at the same time to wait. Cinteotl threw into the fire a bunch of herbs that she pulled out of her apron; the vegetables in contact with flames produced an abundant and dark smoke. After these actions the woman closed her eyes and began rocking rhythmically; as she muttered a kind of mantra her staff drew up a few lines on the floor and she accelerated the rhythm of her swing in the bench, which became violent. Finally the sorceress was quiescent, plunged into a deep slumber. Yum Tu Kin observed the ground at the feet of his wife and gave a jump. The design clearly showed a sinuous curve bordered of other identifiable figures representing the Plumed Serpent: the divine symbol of Kukulkan, Creator God of Maya mythology.

Itzmin started the celebrations for the rescue and happy return of Xchil. In his role as high priest of the city he was to make the official interpretation of omens from the gods on the event. The night ceremony would convene all the important personalities of Dzibilchaltún, so it was a relevant action for the priest, who could enhance his own role in the city, always a central target to Itzmin.

He was already aware of Cinteotl verdict with respect to the divine character of the outsider, and realistically he had no other option that making his prediction on the same line, although his first impression after observing the alien´s movements was that it was a brute. Xquic, who was his disciple and assistant to his temple, had narrated the man´s power, shown in combat and hunting in the two weeks that the three had been wandering in the jungle until being found by the men of Yum Tu Kin. During that time, the man had led, protected and fed the two girls. Xquic had also mentioned the insatiable desire and sexual potency of the foreigner. Itzmin was a practical man and his own role included weaving in the inner-city the necessary partnerships that maintained the status quo. He decided that he had to keep Bjorn surrounded by his pupils, the temple Virgins.

Itzmin initially meditated on whether to supply the alien a couple of concubines among the applicants to priestesses belonging to the best families of Dzibilchaltun, but then thinking about it a while he came to the conclusion that this could lead to conflicts with Xchil and her father, both jealous for dynastic reasons. The priest had another concern besides his own prestige: the lineage of Yum Tu Kin was ancient and honorable, but Itzmin noted a physical exhaustion and a decline among the members of the Royal family that properly attributed to consanguineous marriages. He also had the conviction that this decline would fatally be conveyed to the city. A renewal of the blood was welcome and he thought that the newcomer God seed had to be spread among elites in the city. He returned to observe the Norwegian, interrogating himself about the path to follow. He saw a strange glow in the eyes of Bjorn and followed his gaze. It surprised him to check that it was watching with relish to a group of maidens who were on the opposite side of the campfire. The girls were aware of the attention received, and shone its forms underneath their robes. It was a group of captured virgins in a recent raid at a vassal of an Uxmal village and they were waiting to be awarded to warriors as a reward for their actions. Itzmin wondered if a slave was worthy to become concubines of a god; then reasoned that ten virgins was a Regal present for any being mortal or divine. He returned to alternatively look to Bjorn and girls and the sexual energy that they showed made him smile: an abundant harvest was ensured.

CHAPTER 2

She fastened the mask of her diving equipment in front of her face and dived into the waters of the cenote. Despite the wetsuit, she felt a chill into the well at that early hour. After a few moments, the young woman lit the lamp and proceeded to orient herself in the bosom of the liquid mass. Oxygen tubes were weighing heavily on her shoulders, but soon the gentle movements of her body made her to move quickly. Soon the light emanating from the well that she had entered died, and only the flashlight illuminated the dark underwater tunnel. AS she removed the detritus of the well bottom with her soft kicking, waters got momentarily mudded until they settled down. The scenario that opened before her eyes as the beam of light traveled through the walls and the bottom subjugated her spirit, as happened whenever she dipped. Rocks of varied form, small fish sailing in formation surrounding the diver, vegetation submerged in varying degrees of decomposition, lateral branches in unknown directions of the cenote that invited her to explore them, while  she swam accompanied by the serene sound of the bubbles she exhaled. A world of serenity and peace, without predators to fear or concerns that would distract her, the woman was invited to the detachment from everyday reality. Pure pleasure and mild exercise, release of serotonin and expansion of consciousness.

Teresa finally lost track of the time and the distance she traveled; only her sense of direction was running automatically. The underground course changed abruptly several times of direction, according to the resistance offered by the rock to the persistent action of rainwater, turned  acidic by contact with atmospheric carbon dioxide, which dissolved the limestone rocks eventually but respected other harder rock strata.

After a stretch she newly perceived clarity on top of her; elevating the view she distinguished the outline of another mouth of the cenote and decided to come to the surface to look at the picture. Teresa emerged and sat on the muddy bank of the well in order to be momentarily released of the weight of oxygen tubes; when she took off the mask a series of natural fragrances invaded her sense of smell and looking around she was once more admired by the surrounding spectacle.

The clear space around the cenote was narrow and was in partial darkness, with the tropical flora standing majestic all around, with fanfare of colors. Feathers and flowers. Songs of birds and the murmur of water from a nearby brook partially covered by jungle. Joy invaded all her senses. Teresa took off her diving equipment and stretched on the grass allowing all natural energy to penetrate her body. It was a long time on the site, until the memory of her mission imposed, much to her regret. The girl had a fine balance between her sense of duty and her hedonistic trend, and this balance was the explanation of her calm nature and ease to obtain wellbeing.

Teresa was preparing for a new dip, when her senses were momentarily invaded by a well known sensation. The girl had certain special sensory powers, which in capricious form presented in the most unexpected moments, sending her more or less clear messages. This time the vision was referring to the underground river that she was touring, and made her aware of a kind of side inlet which emptied into the course that she was following, an entry with a curious shape, that somehow resembled a hammer.

Twenty-five years old, Teresa Cifuentes had reasons to be satisfied with her life. Born in the State of Yucatan, but resident for some time in Mexico DF, she graduated three years before as an anthropologist at the National Autonomous University of Mexico with honors. Almost immediately, and thanks to some of her father´s colleagues she came into contact with an American University that carried out studies on Mesoamerican cultures. At the start of an expedition in the region of Yucatan, the young woman had been assigned to an expedition directed by Magnus McPherson, a renowned Ethnologist of Scottish-American origin, with whom Teresa maintained a fleeting relationship, despite the age difference.

Gonzalo Cifuentes, girl´s father, was a renowned archaeologist of the Mexican University, although he now had administrative functions. The mother of the young woman, Leila Chehab, was the daughter of an important businessman of Syrian origin, which had always guaranteed the family a high standard of living and the rare possibility to devote themselves to whatever they desired. In addition, Teresa was the only granddaughter of Grandpa Chehab, who had an endearing love for the young woman, who gave him only satisfaction.

The diver equipment was placed into position, and she dived again. This time the water did not seemed so cold, since although the sunlight just got to sneak between the high foliage, the air temperature had risen significantly.

After a few moments of swimming, Teresa envisioned a dark hole to her right. With a soft kick she went thither, and her heart gave a leap by noting that she was entering a tributary water course, and the shape of the entrance resembled a hammer with the handle down. Without thinking, moved by a vital impulse, she approached the opening and after a brief examination, she penetrated it, twisting her body to adapt it to the narrow entrance. She avoided all contact with the rational part of her brain, knowing that it would advise her not to venture into the narrow tunnel.

With smooth body undulations Teresa was advancing with caution inside the narrow cavern admiring metal shines that gave off the walls reflecting the light from his lantern. Little fishes of multiple colors slipped around her while algae and aquatic plants waved before the turbulence created by her progress. The sand at the bottom was partially covered by bright stones, probably fallen from outside the cenote, and swept away by currents, particularly during the rainy season.

She saw it first with the corner of an eye and paid no attention, but apparently her brain unconsciously recorded the image, and forced her to go back to look, this time carefully: an object half-buried in the sand dismissed a vivid yellow glare when illuminated by the flashlight on her helmet. Teresa knew the meaning of that flash by narrations of underwater archaeological finds, and her heart began to beat faster. She came to the corner where the object was placed, and carefully shook her hand over it. As she spread the sand the unmistakable golden luster returned light. Heart strokes speeded up again when she confirmed that it was a cultural artifact, demonstrated by some incisions she could make out on its surface. Overcoming her anxiety she backed up to gain perspective of the area; trying  not to remove much the sand at the bottom to prevent covering other possible objects, the woman turned several times by an area of several square feet, to convince herself that there was nothing else worthy of attention. Finally she picked up the piece gently and introduced it in her bag. Then, and always dominating her haste, she stirred up the bottom to uncover any other objects that could be found there, to make sure that there was nothing more. Then she began a long return by the underground river up to the cenote where she had dived, on whose bank she had armed a precarious camp.

After changing her immersion suit by clothes suitable for the jungle, Teresa slowly opened the backpack and extracted the object she had found. When she saw it in detail she could not control a cry of emotion. Despite the slime that covered it, the golden flash was detectable clearly as was its surface carved in bas-relief, where Teresa could discern figures and inscriptions.

The youngster stood up and turned again to the muddy shore of the cenote. She leaned over the quiet waters and proceeded to wash thoroughly the object found. When she was satisfied of the result, she returned to the camp, distant just 15 steps from the water. Up to that time she had repressed cravings to carefully observe the discovery, so now she sat down in her tiny folding chair, and then dried the object with a cloth, observed it carefully: it was a disc of about eight inches in diameter, thicker in the center than at the edges and undoubtedly made of gold. The circle was not perfect but pretty close. A circular sector, actually a strip about half an inch wide circled the disc, almost completely covered with glyphs. The central section of the piece presented a figure which, at first sight, Teresa interpreted as that of a warrior with his head covered by a headdress, perhaps consisting of feathers, and with his extended legs in a curious position, culminating with the soles of his feet facing each other

The spirit of the researcher had already submitted the first juvenile excitement. Mentally she compared this piece with others with which she had been I contact with, either directly or through illustrations during her studies or previous research. The woman carefully observed the relic with a magnifying glass of high gain, analyzing in particular the worn inscriptions. Then she photographed it and took notes with a precise description of the artifact. She finally proceeded to document the location of the cenote where she had submerged and the likely route that she had traveled under water. So it took her about one hour without noticing the passing of time, as the excitement gave. Finally, fatigued by the permanent mental concentration, looked to her around. The site in which the camp stood was charming, with trees growing within short distance of the cenote, but allowing the passage of a filtered light by foliage, the murmur of a nearby stream, the singing of birds and the outbreak of colors surrounding it competing for imitating a painter palette. The idyllic view gave way to the physical fatigue caused