They were less than a mile away; and here was he, separated from them in time by a thousand years, decked out in a costume end accoutrements that, if sold at Christie's, might fetch a hundred thousand pounds, and about to play the role of a Man God to an assembly of pagan fanatics. The whole idea was fantastic unbelievable. For some minutes he persuaded himself that this vas one of his visions, but one such as he had never had before, in
which his past incarnation was somehow mixed up with his present one.
At last, Father Lopez said, `The time has come, Exalted One. Be pleased to follow me.'
With an effort Adam came back to earth. This was no dream but really happening. Adam Gordon, the poor Scots lad who, through a number of strange vicissitudes, had made good, become a best selling author and flown out to Mexico in search of a background for a new book, had got himself caught up in a conspiracy to overthrow the government and, dressed in the costume of a Toltec Prince, was about to present himself as a Man God to scores of credulous people. It was absurd, ridiculous but a fact.
Father Lopez preceding him and the four deacons following behind, Adam, towering above all five of them, walked at an unhurried pace to the rear of the Pyramid of the Magician. At its base there were some half ruined arches that formed an arcade. For a few minutes he waited there with his attendants, while Father Lopez stood beyond the furthest arch, looking up the steep slope of the pyramid. Suddenly, he called
`The signal has been made. The Man God is summoned to ascend.'
Stepping out into the open, Adam began to climb the steep staircase of broken steps. Weighed down by the mass of gold upon him, he found it hard going. Looking upward he could see the partially ruined temple on the top, but no human figures were outlined against the starlit sky. By the time he had accomplished two thirds of the ascent he was breathing heavily and looking down at his feet as he put them in turn on each succeeding step.
It was then he heard footfalls and glanced up again. Now he could see a massed body of men. Alberuque and his escorting priests had come round from the front of the temple and were just beginning the descent of the pyramid. As they approached he saw that they were coming down one side of the broad flight of stairs, leaving the other free for him. When he came abreast of him they halted, turned and bowed to him, then went on. Two minutes later he reached the summit. Behind him Father Lopez said in a low voice:
`From here the Man God proceeds alone.'
As Adam walked along the broad ledge round the side of the temple he expected to smell blood, but the night air was clean. That seemed a sure sign that no sacrifice had yet been made. Perhaps, then, he was expected to slaughter not only one pig, but many. He had nerved himself to go through the nauseous business again of tearing the heart out of one animal, but the thought of having to repeat the process was almost too much for him. He was seized with a sudden urge to turn about, throw his hand in and refuse to have anything more to do with Alberuque and his fanatical followers.
Chela would be bitterly disappointed and be justified in reproaching him for going back on his word. It might mean a quarrel; but he felt sure that, loving him as she did, she would understand and forgive him.
It was at that moment that he turned the corner of the temple. No hideous image of Chac Mool reposed in front of it, awaiting the slaughter of a warm blooded animal in its stone lap. Nor was there any other altar upon which a sacrifice could be made. The priests must have removed the one at which the Mass had been celebrated and put it inside the ruin. The terrace was now entirely bare and he was alone upon it. Evidently, for some reason, Alberuque did not consider a sacrifice desirable at this ceremony `Recognition'. Immensely relieved, Adam drew himself to his fall height and walked to the centre of the terrace. Looking down, he could make out a sea of white faces turned up towards him. Suddenly a searchlight was switched on from below. It wavered for a minute, then fixed him in its glare, completely blinding him. From the crowd of two or three hundred people massed below a vast sigh of wonder ascended to him. In some mystic way it seemed to lift him so that his body became most weightless and he felt as though he was floating upright far above them.
Automatically, in ringing tones, he began his speech. Then a range metamorphosis engulfed him. While he was still speaking, his mind was elsewhere. It had gone back to an earlier time when had addressed a great multitude from the top of the Pyramid.' the Magician. He was again Quetzalcoatl making his farewell speech to his people.
But he was not only Quetzalcoatl. He was also Ord the Red Handed, and it was revealed to him how he came to be there. As Ord the Viking he had voyaged many times to Scotland, Ireland and England on plundering expeditions. He also knew Iceland well, and its inhabitants were akin to his own people. There he had heard stories of a land to the west of the northern ocean. It was said to be rich and fertile, and grapes, such as were to be found in Spain, grew there; so it was known as the Vineland. He had determined to go there, and one spring set sail with his hardy jarls. But they had met with storms that had driven them hundreds of miles to the southward. The voyage had lasted many months. On scores of occasions they had landed, terrified the inhabitants of those unknown lands by their size and ferocity, taken such supplies as they needed and sailed again. Time after time they had set and attempted to maintain a course to the northward; but, again and again, after a few days, storms had forced them to furl their sail, and great seas swept them down into hotter climes. The end had come, as Adam realised now, somewhere in the Caribbean. A hurricane had cast their galley up on to a reef. Except for Ord, those of his crew who had survived the terrible voyage had been drowned. He alone had been washed up, still alive, on the shore of Mexico.
When the natives had come upon him, half drowned, they had marvelled at his tall stature, white skin and golden hair and beard. With superstitious awe, they had tended and revived him. Once he had recovered he was able to repay them a hundredfold, owing to his knowledge of many things about which they knew little. So they soon looked upon him as a worker of miracles a being sent to them by a dispensation of heaven.
As he acquired their language, they told him of rich cities that lay many miles inland. His instinct, as a born freebooter, had nagged at him until he became determined to raid them. He had had no difficulty in raising an army, because the people were by then confident beyond all doubt of his power to lead them to victory.
With his army he had marched three hundred miles to the great city of Tula. After only a feeble resistance the Toltecs, whose capital it was, had fallen down and worshipped him. Before that he had been known as Acatl Topeltzin. It was they who gave him the name of Quetzalcoatl, and recognised him as a Man God.
Beloved by all, he had reigned in Tula for twenty years. Then the semi barbarous Chichimec’s had swept down from the north. There had been a terrible war, in which his Toltecs had been defeated, had lost their great, sacred city of Teotihuacán, with its pyramids of the Sun and the Moon, and he had been taken prisoner.
His captors had also regarded him as a Man God, and he had lived among them for close on a year. Towards its end he had been told, without warning, by the High Priest Itzechuatl that he was to be sacrificed. But, owing to the intervention of Mirolitlit, he had succeeded in escaping and rejoining his devoted Toltecs. Having lost their capital and most of their lands, they were in sore straits. But he had put new heart into them and led them in a great trek down to Yucatan.