Quechuans were spiritual by nature, and since the arrival of the Spanish in the fifteenth century their religious beliefs had assimilated certain Catholic values. Thus, they worshipped both the Holy Father and pagan Gods such as Pachamama, the Earth Goddess. They believed she controlled the destiny of the Quechuans through her power over the land and the weather. Reaching down, Umaq grabbed a handful of the mud from beneath his feet, and now on his knees, said a small combined prayer to both God and to Pachamama, asking for forgiveness for whatever it was he had to do, and that his beloved family was not punished for his sins. He kissed the earth before tossing it to the ground, then crossed his chest in the Christian tradition. Umaq was no fool. He knew, that before this expedition was over, his life would never be the same again.

  Just then a giant hand clutched his shoulder with enormous strength. He turned his head to see the thunderous face of Yupanqui looming over him.

  “Stand up, boy,” he growled. “You are Quechuan, with Inca blood in your veins, yet you pray to that false God, the God of the invaders that raped our land and killed our people.”

  “I… my family… we are Quechuan, but we believe in the saviour Jesus Christ, and Inti the sun God and the Earth Goddess, Pachamama.”

  “Why do you believe in that false Catholic idol, when you know what the Catholics have done to our people, torturing and killing, and devastating the mighty Inca empire?”

  “I… it’s just what we do, it’s what my…” His voice failed him.

  “Enough. It doesn’t matter what you believe, or thought you believed, because the time of the prophecy has arrived. The Inca are rising once more, and you will obey me, Pachacuti, your master, for if you do not, you will die with the rest of the heathen Catholics in our land, and your family will die too, sentenced as traitors in legion with the conquistadors. We will kill them, as they once killed us, and expel them from the land of the Incas once and for all. Make your decision Umaq, or the prophecy will see you as one of them.” Yupanqui turned and left the young Quechuan shaking with fear.

  Doubts

  The weather deteriorated even further by mid-morning. Thunder reverberated all around a valley lit up every thirty-seconds by tremendous explosions of sheet lightning. If it wasn’t so dangerous it would have made a spectacular show. From what had started out as a mild Andean storm, they now faced the very real threat of deadly landslides. Worry etched Kane’s face as Sonco hustled them on. Leading the way, he huddled them into a small cave, hunkering down and waiting for the stragglers to emerge from the downpour. John was next, and then two porters and their mules, soon followed by Evan, drenched through but somehow managing a smile. He was more worried about his precious camera equipment than his own safety, it seemed, and hugged his pack to his chest. Two more porters soon emerged from what was becoming a series of waterfalls cascading down the slopes, and next came Ridley and Edgewood, faces taut and grateful for the respite. And then, to Kane’s horror, the last two of the Quechuan porters, who’s primary duty since the first minute of the expedition was to bring up the rear of the party. Shit.

  “Where are the others?” Kane bellowed at the surprised porters, immediately fearing the worst. “Are they behind you?” The two young men shared a surprised look, and lacking English were unsure of Kane’s meaning. They were last, as instructed to be. Weren’t they? Kane didn’t wait for an answer, and dashed back out onto the trail, Sonco close behind.

  They didn’t get far. Out of the gloom emerged Hooper, rushing to meet them. “It’s Waters,” he shouted. “Come on.”

  Kane’s gut tightened, his instincts screaming that Hooper had done something bad. They ran together, the American leading the way, until blocked by a fallen tree. Hooper pointed over the trail edge, and Kane saw Muddy. He wasn’t moving. The three of them scrambled down the scrubby bank to Muddy, who groaned in pain. Assessing the situation, it didn’t look good, and Kane saw straight away that Muddy had broken his leg.

  “Muddy, it’s me, Hiram. Can you hear me?”

  Muddy stirred, and rolled over onto his side.

  “It hurts, Hiram… It hurts so much.”

  “Don’t move. Lie still and we’ll get you out of here. Sonco,” he yelled over the thrumming rain, “Run back to the others and get the first aid kit. Bring Ridley back and assemble the stretcher.” The second Sonco left Kane dragged Hooper away from Muddy. He stared hard at the American, searching for any sign of guilt. He saw none. “What happened, Howie?”

  “I don’t know. We were walking together, then the lightning struck that tree and the next thing I knew the old man was gone. I guess he tried to dodge the tree and slipped.” Howie’s features remained passive. Too calm, thought Kane.

  Kane turned back to Muddy and found the professor now sitting up and resting on his elbows. There was a look of pain-filled anger in those blue eyes, and it was as if he was trying to give Kane a message.

  “What is it, Muddy? Are you trying to tell me something?”

  The old archaeologist looked from Kane to Hooper, eyes hard, then back again to Kane, and started to say something when a wave of unbearable pain overtook him, and he passed out, slumping to the ground.

  Kane was about to confront Hooper when Sonco and Ridley came scrambling down the bank. Ridley immediately sensed the friction in the air, but their first concern was Muddy Waters, and she unfurled the stretcher pack and laid it out next to Muddy.

  “He has a broken tibia. He fell down that bank. Apparently.” The look in Kane’s eyes was venomous, now totally convinced Hooper was responsible. But he had to focus on Muddy. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they gave Muddy some powerful painkillers, put his leg in a cast, and made him as comfortable as possible. Sonco had found a nearby route back up to the main trail that was a gentle slope, and in an apparent act of mercy from Pachamama the rain had eased to a light drizzle. Kane and Sonco carried Muddy to the cave, and Hooper seized the moment to speak to Ridley.

  “Hiram has some doubts about me, and I think he believes I’m somehow responsible. But I’m not. I promise I’m not… why would I hurt Muddy?”

  “Why would Hiram think that? I’m sure you’re wrong. It’s true, you act distant sometimes, even arrogant, and you don’t join in with the others, but…”

  “I’m just shy, is all. I’d never hurt anyone.” It was a convincing grovel, and Ridley bought it.

  “Look, just stay out of the way for now, and I’ll speak to Hiram. He’s under a lot of pressure on these expeditions and hates to see anyone get hurt.”

  “Okay. Got it. Please tell Muddy I’m sorry he’s hurt.”

  Muddy, now comfortable on a makeshift bed in the cave, was in no doubt his expedition was over. The pain had ceased, and he sat alone with Kane. Kane looked at the aged professor with a mixture of compassion and questioning eyes. Muddy Waters looked both sad and confused, as if now unsure what happened.

  “Muddy, I have a question, and it’s blunt. Did Howie Hooper push you over the bank?”

  Muddy seemed to think hard, his eyes scrunched up in both pain and concentration, and after a full minute he looked at Hiram, slowly shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Hiram. There’s some fuzziness, and Howie’s face keeps popping into my head. But I don’t know. I can’t remember… I only know that…” The old man started sobbing. It was clear to Kane the man was struggling. Muddy wouldn’t want to accuse anybody of something so heinous, in fact, couldn’t believe anybody was capable of it. But mostly he felt an overwhelming sadness his adventure was over. Kane let the old man have a few moments to compose himself before speaking.

  “Look Muddy, something very strange is happening here, and I don’t like it. But unless you’re sure I’ll have to let it slide. And I think you know we’re going to have to call an end to your expedition… I couldn’t be sorrier.”

  “Hiram, the last few days have shown me that my trekking days should have been over long ago. Aside from the first accident at the waterfall, I realise I’m slowing the group down and adding an extra worry to you, when you already have so much to think about.”

  “You're not slowing us down, Muddy. You’re doing great.”

  “Of course you’d say that, and I’m grateful for your apathy. But I’m not stupid. My heart tells me both falls have been my own dumb mistakes. Maybe you think so, but the bottom line is that this expedition is over, and I’m going home to Boston, to put my feet up and spoil my grand kids. And don’t you dare consider stopping this trip on my behalf, or out of concerns about Howie. Continue on without me. You have to.”

  Kane looked with great sympathy at Muddy, and he knew the man was right. They had to push on, despite his reservations about Hooper and his sadness about the big professor. “You’re right. But you’ll be missed, Muddy, and you will share in this expedition’s success, whether you’re here or not.” Kane leaned over to give the man a hug, then called for the others to come in and see how he was.

  Kane stepped out of the shelter as some of the others walked in, but Ridley caught him by the arm. Edging him out of earshot, she asked him about Hooper. “What’s going on with Howie? He thinks you hold him responsible for Muddy’s accidents. Why would you think that? What evidence do you have?”

  “Listen, Alex, I’ve had a bad feeling about him since we first met. I couldn’t be sure why, but something niggled me about him. I didn’t mention this before, but at the waterfall, Howie left camp right after Muddy. He snuck out and snuck back, and in that time Muddy nearly died. And this today? The coincidence is pretty big, don’t you think?”

  Ridley pondered it for a second. “I agree, it seems strange, but it doesn’t mean there’s anything in it. Why would he want to hurt Muddy? For what purpose?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. But there is something going on, and I will find out what.”

  Untitled

  Kane and Sonco arranged for two of the porters to escort Muddy Waters back to their starting point at Aguas Calientes and continue with him back to Cuzco. Muddy would ride one of the mules, and Sonco had given them strict orders to go easy. He trusted them, and he knew they wouldn’t let him down.

  Muddy felt devastated, of course. This was to be his last adventure into the wilderness, and it had ended in personal failure. He only hoped that the rest of the expedition was successful for the others.

  At long last the rain had stopped and dazzling sunlight pierced the jungle canopy. After some fond farewells and promises to stay in touch with Kane, Ridley and the others helped Professor Andrew ‘Muddy’ Waters onto a mule. Keeping his sadness hidden he addressed the group, and with his customary stoicism.

  “My friends, I know I can seem a touch bossy sometimes, but since you already know that I’m going to be bossy one more time.” He winced, his broken leg reminding him it was broken. “My last order to you guys is to not feel sorry for me. I’ve had an amazing, adventurous life, and even though my last treasure hunt into the wilds is cut short, it’s still been memorable. But do not let my failure stop you from your success. You must complete this mission. You must succeed in your goals. Do not be disheartened. Do not fail.”

  This last harsh command did not disguise the twinkle of excitement that remained in the old explorer’s eyes. He wanted them to succeed, wanted them to find Vilcabamba. But more than that, he knew they must. The impoverished Quechuan people had a right to the wealth of Atahualpa’s lost hoard. Whether it be direct cash handouts, or simply from a boost in tourist dollars that the discovery of Vilcabamba would ultimately bring into the economy, Muddy firmly believed that it needed finding and he had no doubt this was the expedition to do it. With a hoity wave of the hand the sad procession edged down the trail on the long trek back to civilisation. Howie grabbed the moment.

  He rushed over to Muddy and extended his hand. “Mr Waters, I’m very sorry you’re leaving the group, and I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

  Muddy looked at him hard, trying to sense any scheming, but found no trace of anything but sympathy. He turned his eyes on Kane, whose jowls clenched and eyes narrowed. The American’s show of compassion didn’t convince him, but with reluctance, he nodded at Muddy as if to say okay, Howie will get the benefit of my grave doubts. Muddy returned the nod and took Howie’s hand.

  “Thank you, Howie. And good luck to you.” And with that, they were gone.

  Sonco motioned to Kane to follow him. “Rain so heavy. Path dangerous. We camp here today and start again tomorrow.”

  Kane was keen to push on and put the sad image of Muddy leaving behind him. But as always he trusted Sonco, and they set up camp in the shelter of the cave area.

  Hooper walked away and smiled to himself. He had tried to kill someone and failed. Twice. Yet that person was now out of the way, and his first mission was complete. Though Hooper was Catholic, and technically on a Catholic mission, his faith was not as strong as it once was. He looked skyward, peering into the now bright clear sky. Could it have been divine intervention? He wanted to think so. It seemed God was on his side, and it instilled in him a confidence rarely felt. Regardless, he would not be so careless next time, and was now free to focus on part two of his mission; the swift removal of Professor Haines.

  6

  Day 6

  Plans

  After leaving the temporary cave shelter, Sonco led them on.

  “So… how about that date on Maui?” purred Edgewood as she hustled up alongside Craft. “I’ve always fancied Hawaii. But why should I go with you, Evan?”

  The mood had been sombre since Waters’ departure yesterday afternoon, but now the weather had improved and with it the atmosphere.

  “Well, it’s a good question, and I have no better answer than to say why the hell not?” Craft wasn’t known for his skills with the ladies but, as his oldest friend Kane would say, it’s not for lack of trying. But Evan really did fancy Kate and was keen to secure a date after the expedition. To cover his nerves, Evan put on his poshest English accent. “My dear, in my favour is the fact that as a photographer I know all the most beautiful spots, and as someone who adores food I’ve frequented many spectacular eating establishments on Maui.”

  She chuckled. “That’s a good start. I heard there’s a nice drive somewhere on Maui, to a waterfall?”

  “Yes, my lady, that would be The Road to Hana, and yes it is stunning. We could rent ourselves a convertible, partake in a splendid road trip around the island? Or would madam prefer a horse and carriage?”

  This was going well, thought Edgewood, and it was just what she wanted. To pull this off she needed the trust of someone close to Kane. But she was torn. Evan was a nice guy, so too Kane and Ridley. However, that one or more of them would get hurt was just collateral damage, and she could deal with that. Her only decision was whether to cut Benedix out of the equation. She believed she could do it. That naïve young lad Umaq would soon come around, knowing he’d be a fool to turn down that much money. Of course, she would never actually pay him, and he would simply disappear with the others. But, using his help to get rid of any evidence of Hooper’s actions, and then to dispose of both Howie and that stuck up Spaniard De La Cruz, she’d be home free to claim the prize and the glory. And she would claim it alone.

  Back at the front of the convoy Kane was in deep conversation with Ridley.

  “It’s been pretty eventful so far, hey Kane?” she said, smiling despite all the drama.

  “Sure has. But we wouldn’t have it any other way, would we?”

  And that was true. They were both born to live adventurous lives, and whether she shared the same notion or not, Kane was always happier when on an adventure with Ridley. He wanted to believe she enjoyed his company as much as he did hers, and he sensed she did. But Ridley was fiercely independent and rarely needed anything from anyone. Kane wondered if part of the appeal was that she came across as so unattainable, unless it was on her terms. It wasn’t as if Kane chased her, far from it, but he was always keen to hook up with her when the chance arose. But it didn’t always pan out that way. She openly liked Kane and had never been closer to any man than she was with him. But for some reason she just would not commit to anything other than an occasional fling.

  In her deepest of hearts she did want more, and she wanted it with Kane. She trusted him more than anyone, and admired him for his kindness, sincerity, and passion for life. But Ridley herself knew she was unpredictable, perhaps unreliable, and she would not forgive herself if she hurt Hiram. She actually believed that in some ways she even loved him, but that was something she’d never tell him. She respected him too much to string him along on false hope. Because of that, she kept her distance. But not always. He was a lovely, considerate man, and when they did get together, the chemistry was undeniable.

  “I asked you before, but you avoided the question. Seriously, what’ll you do when you find Vilcabamba?” Ridley again asked what was a valid question.

  Kane couldn’t deny it. Things would change. Once this expedition was over, and he had become the first person to locate Vilcabamba and Atahualpa’s riches, he would for sure find himself in the world’s spotlight. That he’d been named after Hiram Bingham certainly added an intriguing element to the story, and Ridley’s question was a good one. What would he do? He wasn’t afraid of a little publicity though he didn’t crave it like other explorers did.

  But what he cared about above all else was regaining some of his great-grandfather’s dented reputation, and even more important than that was what would actually happen to the infamous treasure once discovered. Some scholars estimated its worth to be as much as two billion US dollars, an astonishing prediction considering no one really knew exactly what the hoard comprised.