Flight of the Shaman

CHAPTER 15

  Helmet of Power

  Side by side lay the old man and the Shaman, the old man's body was in convulsions, jerking and retching as it fought to eject the poison which tore through cells and tissues seeking control over him. It was a battle which he could not hope to win, suddenly his whole body stiffened and he lay still. The Shaman was already in such a state, his body had long ago learnt the futility of trying to combat the effects of the venom.

  Onto the head of the old man was placed the helmet of power. Onto the head of the Shaman was placed the helmet sent by Bonampak, ambassador to the gods.

  The assistant knew that something was wrong, the body of the Shaman began to quiver and twitch indicating to him that his master remained within its confines. A stream of heavy mucus poured from his mouth. From within the Shaman also knew what was happening but had no control, he was unable to leave his body to travel the astral winds to wherever his thoughts desired.

  "There's the old man lad, look, it's 'im as a ghost, like the Shaman was, stick with 'im."

  The old man floated within the cell looking down upon the scene beneath him. His mind was no longer confused, he was able to think clearly and to see clearly, it was as if a layer of mire had been expelled from his mind's eye. As he hovered spirit-like watching the agonies of the Shaman his thoughts began to piece together what had happened, the realisation dawned slowly upon him but the horror of his surroundings left him in no doubt. Within the cell were the vilest objects and trophies, on the floor his body lay with its head encased in a strangely shaped helmet. He understood, and as his eyes focused on the body of the Shaman alongside that of his own he knew that he was in the presence of pure evil.

  A grating voice spoke from out of the darkness, the old man glided towards the sound and was shocked to observe that it came from a crystal skull, "We have waited long for this time," said the skull, "soon we shall rule the Earth like our forefathers."

  In panic the old man wished himself a thousand leagues away from the horrors around him. He felt himself tearing along through another dimension, it seemed as though the air and stones around him had broken apart into tiny pieces, each small piece remained in position but his 'body' was able to move through the gaps between the pieces.

  He shot out, high into the sky, high into the surrounding mountains, there he slowed and looked back down upon the city. His eyes took in the temple which he knew he had just left, they took in the beautiful buildings which surrounded it. It was morning, it was light, he did not want to go back into the darkness.

  He thought of Jésu and was immediately there at the site of his body, the bones almost picked clean of flesh by the beasts of the air.

  "What has happened to you my friend! What have they done to you?" he cried.

  He swept along the trail left by the heavy cannon and hooves of the column, he soared over gorges, over cliffs and mountains, his speed of movement blurred the surroundings of the vast landscape. Above the clouds he floated, their soft, bumpy texture resembled the backs of fleecy sheep so much that he felt he could hold out a hand and stroke them; he turned full circle and could see the earth curving away in every direction, the red-tinge of the rising sun glowered all around the horizon contrasting against the deep blue of the sky.

  The old man thought of the column and was there: with painstaking care it was crossing a latticework of logs which clung precariously to a cliff face above a raging river, men carried parts from dismantled cannon, piece by piece, over the perilous structure. The cataract below roared in their ears.

  "Hey Alvarez!" he shouted at the guard who had wakened him so forcefully from his sleep, the man did not hear him but the hound which trotted at his side sensed his presence, it barked ferociously at the air, "Quiet!" ordered Alvarez.

  He floated over the flimsy construction and watched as men he knew moved through him.

  "It is I! Do you not know me?" he shouted but soon learnt that it was a waste of time.

  "Am I dead?" he asked of the men who passed but none saw him. Only the dogs knew he was there, whenever he approached the bubbles of consciousness which surrounded them the animals barked furiously.

  The old man floated above the scene beneath him, higher and higher he rose until he became level with the top of the cliff-face.

  "Look, on top of the cliff, over there," said Davey, "it's the warriors left by Lord Axa."

  They lay on their bellies spying down upon the column. The old man also saw the warriors and moved across to them.

  "he's seen them, he's goin' to have a look at 'em."

  "Who are you! Can you not see me?" cried the old man as he hovered immediately in front of the warriors in mid-air.

  The warriors stared straight through him. "Surely these men are not of this world," said Topac.

  "Come, let us take heavy stones and hurl them down upon their heads!" said Manco moving back from the cliff and getting to his feet.

  "We have Lord Axa's orders. We watch!" insisted Topac. Seeing that Manco would not give in and return to his position he also retreated from the cliff and stood up, "Let us survey their camp."

  "The old man's following them lad. They'll lead him to the Spanish camp!"

  Manco trailed Topac at a distance until they reached a ridge which they led them to another vantage point, from there Topac pointed out the commander who was conspicuous in his polished armour and from the number of men guarding him.

  "He is the man who leads these murderers," said Topac.

  "Let us watch him close," said Manco, "for without him they are a headless snake."

  The old man soared downwards to the commander. The commander was addressing a group of officers.

  "I am back Sire!" shouted the old man.

  "The poor feller can't handle it can 'e lad. Mind you I don't reckon I'd take too kindly to floatin' round like a flippin' ghost meself."

  "Not since the Romans has such a feat of military engineering been accomplished," boasted the commander to his audience, "history shall be the judge of our success." As he spoke work was taking place all around him; scrap armour was placed into earth-kilns and smelted down. Skilled smiths hammered and drew the molten metal into the long spikes which would be needed to fix a wooden plate to the cliff. The wooden plate would carry a roadway and assist in holding the construction to the vertical face. The sound of trees being hacked down and cut into workable sections of logs filled the air, to one side of the clearing a hunting party returned from the forest bearing a strange long-nosed pig which was so heavy it took four men to carry. The men had tied the animals hooves together and had slung it to the underside of a pole.

  "In the name of God what is it Sergeant?" joked one of the officers, "Have you found your mother?"

  "God rest her soul Sir!" barked the sergeant at arms, "but she were never so pretty as this dame."

  Father Salamanga gave his polite cough which indicated he was about to bring the man to task, "You forget to observe the commandment Sergeant, 'Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain'".

  "I am sorry Father," said the sergeant. The smile had left his face.

  "I shall devise a penance for you my son." The priest put his hand upon his hairy chin whilst he thought of an appropriate punishment but the old man shouted to him.

  "Good Father! It is I. Do you not recognise me!"

  Father Salamanga raised his head from his hand and looked from side-to-side.

  "Has he heard 'im lad?" exclaimed Paddy.

  The priest was interrupted by the commander who did not wish his sergeant to be taken from his duties, "Come good father, join us in seeing how work progresses."

  With a slightly bewildered look upon his face the priest accepted the invitation.

  The old man continued to follow the priest, crying out, but the commander and Francesco were occupying his full attention. They walked along the rock-ledge towards the framework, ahead of them men and horses were hauling logs. The logs needed a horse chained at their rear to p
revent them rolling over into the chasm and taking men and horses with them.

  "How the heck did them lot manage to build something like that! Even with cranes and hoists we'd never 'ave managed that in a month of Sundays."

  Logs were being split, a metal spike was hammered into them near each end, the spikes were then re-positioned while men with levers forced the straining timbers to part; with a wrenching, tearing sound the timbers separated. Sometimes the energy released was so violent that the halves bounced upwards or to one side forcing men to jump back to avoid being injured. Carpenters cut the rough halves to length, they shaped them with hand axes and drilled holes ready for fixing them into place.

  Like spiders, men dangled at the end of strand-like ropes high above the icy waters, to reach their positions they needed to run along the cliff face then swing perilously through the air their hands and feet clawing for purchase, then like insects they crawled over a flimsy framework of logs to bind sections together with rope and hemp.

  "Eh up, he's havin' a problem!" said Paddy pointing to a man who had got into difficulties fastening one such section.

  "Pass a line!" yelled the man. As his grip weakened upon the rope to which he clung he screamed, "Hurry!"

  The old man walked over the framework and attempted to take hold of the man by the shoulders but his hands passed straight through the body.

  "The old guy's tryin' to 'elp 'im!"

  A would-be rescuer edged along the skeleton structure, "Steady yourself!" he urged.

  He took a length of rope from his shoulder then by stretching forwards swung a rope towards the man below him.

  "Curse you Drago!" yelled the man as the line fell short.

  The old man dropped from the beam, he tried to take hold of the rope end but it swung through his hand.

  A second swing was grasped by the man but his fingers had lost all their strength, slowly they began to give way. "BITE THE LINE!" shouted Drago. He bit into the rope, his jaw was almost pulled from his face and his neck muscles were twisted but he had given his hands enough time to recover.

  Paddy and Davey watched as the old man walked over the top of the precarious structure, stepped off, then floated to where the commander stood watching the drama with Francesco. Along with the other men they cheered Drago's rescue. The commander turned to Francesco, "An untimely interruption, get the men back to work." Francesco shouted the necessary orders.

  The commander questioned the man in charge, "How many more days Ortéga?"

  Ortéga looked up from positioning a plumb-bob in line with two vertical poles.

  "A man can cross by the end of today, it shall take horse tomorrow. See, already the footway is being prepared."

  Men in rope cradles hung beneath the framework hammering holes into the rock using star-shaped chisels, a tight-fitting length of stick was inserted into the hole, through the timbers and into the sticks they hammered the spikes. Each spike forced the stick to widen into its hole fastening the timber to the rock. On top of the timber two men were fixing short, square lengths forming a rough footway.

  "Flippin' amazing, not a machine between them! Food for thought for yer there Davey boy when yer in Stilsons. I've never seen anything like it."

  "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!"

  "It's the old man!"

  "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!" The old man yelled into nothingness and leapt into the air in his fear. He soared above the framework, diving and shouting into the ether, several times he swept down low above the river then ascended rapidly. On one such descent he continued down into the river's depths, the powerful current could be seen ripping and swirling past him.

  "Flippin 'eck this is incredible!"

  "I wish I could have a go at that Uncle Paddy!"

 

  The old man rose, he continued his ascent far into the sky. A bright light far above attracted him. Rapidly he rose up towards it.

  "What the heck....that's not that Zeppelin again is it Davey?"

  "I can't tell Uncle Paddy, it's so high up. I'll go up and....no, look it's gone. The old man's going Uncle Paddy."

  The old man was being pulled away from the light, back towards the temple wherein lay his body. With a great jerk he shot back inside the massive stone mass of the pyramid.

  Davey was not quite quick enough to follow him.

  "Get after him lad!" Paddy urged.

  They saw him, floating through stone blocks and passageways, uncertain of where he was only knowing that his body wished him to return and was pulling him back to it.

  A voice cried weakly in the darkness.

  "Have pity upon us."

  "It's Shark-cutey!"

  It was the voice of a child, the old man moved towards the sound until he reached its source.

  The terrified child was trapped in a small cell. She sat upon the lap of a man who was fastened to a wall.

  "Help her!"

  "Do sommat!"

  The old man stared, "I know this man, he protected me from harm. Fear not child, I shall help you," he said but Chacuti and Lord Axa were unaware of his presence.

  "That's what we wanted to hear!"

  His body continued to pull him fiercely back to its confines.

  The Shaman waited for him.

  "You are returned and we await you," said the Shaman, staring directly at the spirit which hovered before him. The old man looked down at where his body lay. He knew he had to get back into it quickly or else he would never return but he did not know what to do. He felt panic rising within him.

  The skulls and Shaman started to make a strange sound. Up and down went the sound, he had heard this before but could not remember where, it allowed him to focus his mind. The sound rose and fell, each time it fell he was able to drop a little lower, soon his feet hung on the bodies mid-section and began to pull the rest of the spirit downwards. His arms slotted into those of the body, with a wrench his head re-entered. The body shook, vomited and retched as the return of the spirit allowed it to feel the damage done to it by the venom.

  "It is the time of which our forefathers have long told," said the Shaman.

  He motioned for the old man to sit next to him on a stone bench.

  A skull rasped, "Your power is great, we are your servants, yours to command."

  The skulls sang of the time they had waited and the sacrifices which had been made to preserve themselves until the day came when the gods returned.

  "Our forefathers worshipped you, you gave them insight. They worked for you and with you to build this mighty empire. Their reward was to travel to the distant parts of the universe and to rule the Earth."

  "We have safeguarded the helmet of power, without it all this would not have been possible."

  The skulls chanted a deep resonant sound which caused the lingering effects of the poison to take hold of the old man once more. He felt he was being transported as images moved within his mind.

  "I'm seeing what he's thinking Uncle Paddy! Can you see it!"

  "Aye lad, it's all there, plain as the nose on me old girl's face."

  The depths of space were shown; stars revealed the glory of the planets which encircled them. The old man was at the centre watching as the images flashed before him. The pain of the venom caused him to scream in agony.

  "Aaagh! Release me from this grip, I cannot take anymore."

  But the images continued, a strange craft tore from the sky, hurtling through ancient forests, it lay broken and twisted as unearthly beings struggled from its wreckage.

  "The dragon of the sky brought the gods to teach the chosen ones," said one of the skulls. "We are those chosen ones, the Earth awaits our rule."

  The old man felt a wave of darkness beginning to engulf him, he tried to fight it but could not, his mind passed into unconsciousness to escape the ravages of the poison. The darkness was complete, not even the faintest spark of light illumined it, he lay as if in death.