'Women for the body, yes, but maybe not for the heart. Not a woman who makes you furious with her smile like my little demon Teresa who waits for me in the tent. Not a woman, Marion, you will let stay.'
'You're getting nosy in your old age.'
'Is it that I am nosy or because I am right that you evade the question?'
'I have no reason to evade anything. If you really have to know, there was one. A woman in Florida. An artist. She is as pretty as Pilar and almost as intelligent. A woman to share children with.'
'Your Spanish is too good for you to make an error in tense. You said there
'Perhaps there still is. I'm not sure. Not yet.'
'If you are unsure, then you must try and speak with Pilar while you are here. You must not let the opportunity pass. We are men together, and I tell you to do this thing. Such opportunities are rare. It is possible that you may never get a chance to speak with her again.'
'I've checked with the people I once worked with, and no one knows where she is.'
'You did not check with me.'
Ford wasn't sure he wanted to pursue it, but he felt the old longing and he heard himself say, 'I would be interested in anything you might know. There are reasons I need to speak with Pilar; reasons that have nothing to do with love.'
Rivera's head was bobbing, nodding, saying I-told-you-so with his expression. 'I thought you would be interested. First let me explain that I cannot tell you how it is I know the things I know. Let's just say I've heard it from the people of the mountains. They are my people and have no reason to lie to Juan. It was from these people I heard that, in the weeks after you left, Pilar went once again to that lake in the mountains to continue her investigations. You knew that there was supposedly once a great Mayan temple built on a hill above that lake?'
'Yes,' said Ford, 'I knew.'
'And there was a great ceremonial calendar that, in some way, was lost. A very valuable artifact. It was covered with emeralds.'
'I have also heard of the calendar. '
'I have been told that Pilar went back to look for this calendar—not because of the value of the emeralds, but because it played some important role in the ceremonies of our people, a thing called the Ritual of the Lake. She made certain discoveries on that lake, but if she found the calendar I cannot say. She had a camp there with workers, but the camp was attacked by robbers and Pilar was badly beaten by these men.'
Ford took a deep breath, held it, then released the air slowly. 'Robbers,' he said, but he was thinking of Zacul.
'They stole things. They killed some of Pilar s people and they beat her. I've heard they beat her quite badly. Nuns found her and took her to a convent to heal, and there she remains. Or so I have heard.'
'Then she may be dead for all you know.'
'Do not get angry at me, old friend. I am only the messenger and it is not an easy thing to tell. Rivera shrugged. 'Is she dead? I think not. I have heard rumors of nuns, nuns from that convent, traveling the country and talking to the people. They have been telling people what happened to Pilar. They have been telling the people that they must do a certain thing. They have been telling the people they must come to that lake in the mountains on a certain night in June, the night of the summer solstice. The nuns even sent an emissary to the village below, Isla de Verde, to tell these few people. Perhaps that is how I eame to know.'
'Did they tell you why the nuns want them to go to the lake?'
'There can be only one reason. Pilar wants the people to unite behind her. She wants control of Masagua. If she was not so widely known for her goodness, for her kindness, some might even suspect her of placing the bomb that killed her husband. ' Rivera's tone of voice did not suggest if he suspected her or not.
Ford said, 'Then she has become your rival, just as Zacul is your rival. '
'It is difficult to think of such a woman as a rival. Now my only rival is Zacul—and, of course, the generals who are presently in control. The other factions are weak. Ultimately they will back him or they will back me.'
'Then you will help me?'
Rivera made a gesture with his hands, a gesture of finality. 'No. I'll riot risk my men on a premature attack. '
'We would need only two commando squads attacking from different directions. All we need is an avenue of escape. In return, Zacul would be eliminated.'
'Yes, I know—sever the head and the snake dies. But who would do it?'
Ford said, 'I think you know.'
Rivera studied him for a moment, then said, 'To be frank, I believe Zacul will have you and your hippie friend killed the moment you show any curiosity at all about this child you seek. It is a source of admiration that you would risk your own life for a boy you do not know. '
Ford said, 'Then you overestimate my resolve. It would be nice to rescue the child, but I won't pretend that I'd trade my life for his. As for Tomlinson, I've decided it's too dangerous for him to go. It would be useful to have him, but I cannot accept the responsibility. Not after what you've told me. Could he remain here with you for a few days?'
'Of course. He is a scholar. And I would like to pitch to him again.'
'Then I will leave in the morning, before Tomlinson is awake—'
'Juan? Juan?' A girl's petulant voice interrupted, and both men looked up to see the small figure in a long white shirt, hands on hips, dark hair hanging over heavy breasts, silhouetted by the light from within Rivera's tent. 'I am getting very sleepy, Juan. Waiting for you is causing this pain in my head.'
'Then do not wait! Go to sleep!' Rivera called back, sounding angry for her interruption, but he was already moving away from Ford, toward the tent. To Ford he said,
'Thank you, General.'
'Such pains in the head are not normal for a young girl. And only the touch of my hands will make the pain go away. It is a mystery, no?' Still embarrassed, still explaining himself, General Juan Rivera of the Masaguan People's Army disappeared into his tent.
FOURTEEN
A quetzal bird flew over, a red-chested male trailing its green tail feathers like a yard-long banner. The quetzal dropped down out of the jungle shadows, flew hard across the clearing, then banked abruptly toward the rising sun and burst into iridescent flame, sunlight still clinging to the bird's wings as it faded from sight.
Two of Rivera's soldiers were waiting, and Ford swung onto the saddle and nudged his horse. They rode from the camp straight up the mountainside to a ridge to begin the series of switchbacks that would take them around the peak to Isla de Verde. Ford stopped for a moment on the ridge, looking down into the camp. Rivera's men were stirring in the fresh morning light, tending their cooking fires. Dogs trotted here and there scattering chickens while a couple of other early risers saddled horses.
Ford wondered how Rivera had fared with his teenage mistress. He doubted if the pain in her head had lasted long; doubted if it would ever last any longer than it took to get Rivera to do exactly what she wanted. That made him smile, thinking of Juan being bullied by the tiny girl.
The two soldiers waited; when Ford nodded, they kicked their horses into a lazy walk. They rode for twenty minutes before one of the soldiers stopped suddenly, holding up his hand like a cavalry officer. In Spanish, the man said, 'Do you hear something? Did you hear that?'
Ford sat listening; sat listening to the rustling silence of deep jungle; sat listening to saddles creak and their horses blowing air; sat listening . . . and then he heard it, too: voices behind them. The two soldiers quickly slid off their horses and led them into the jungle, weapons raised. Ford sat alone on the trail, feeling ridiculous, then got off his horse, too.
The voices had come from the switchback beneath them, so it was nearly ten minutes before the men came into view: two more riders on horseback. Ford guessed the soldiers were going to wait until the men were past, so he crouched down, but then he saw the men clearly, and he stepped out onto the path because one of them was
