The Trails Of El Dorado

Chapter II - Awakening

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Tulio woke with a start; sweat coating his chest, pulse racing and breath erratic. He'd been dreaming, but the dream had already vanished, like a plume of smoke on a windy day. The eastern sky had orange glow, so Tulio didn't bother trying to relax and fall asleep again.

The dark haired man tiptoed quietly across the room, not wanting to wake his golden haired partner. They'd been in El Dorado for a little over a week but to Tulio it already felt like more of a home than Spain ever had. The people weren't as open to him as Miguel, but his partner had spent two years in the golden city with them, so Tulio knew that would change in time.

He sighed heavily, watching Miguel sleep. When Chief Tannabok had learnt what had occurred to Miguel he was outraged. Tulio had never before seen the chubby man lose his temper, and never wanted to again. It was, in a word, scary. No, terrifying! Miguel had been the one to calm him down in the end, saying he still believed his eyes would heal again.

Miguel seemed to be coping well with his loss of vision, but Tulio knew better. The people of El Dorado only saw their mortal god smiling and laughing out in the streets, not crying softly into his pillow at night. Every night it was Tulio who held his partner, whispering to him softly until he fell asleep. The blonde still covered his eyes for most of the day, only taking off the red cloth in the sanctuary of their temple.

The chief healer in El Dorado, a dark haired woman called Randa, had examined Miguel the first night they'd arrived. Unlike the ship's surgeon, she'd positioned her hands over Miguel's eyes and chanted. Once completing the long chant she'd began having a conversation with herself about how to treat his eyes. Eventually she'd scurried off only to return in the morning with a sickly-looking green drink for Miguel to drink. She'd come back every morning to give his partner another dose of the potion. If the faces Miguel pulled were anything to go by, the concoction didn't taste like sugar or honey. So far, there'd been no improvement, but both partners still had hope.

Chief Tannabok's daughter, Azul, the one Miguel had saved from the slave traders, also came by every day. Tulio suspected it was a guilt thing, with the young girl blaming herself for what had happened. Miguel insisted it wasn't her fault, but she kept coming back.

Tulio dressed himself in his European clothing, making sure to strap on the dagger he'd stolen from Jack tightly to his leg. Even in paradise, he didn't want to be caught off guard. Miguel didn't know Tulio carried the weapon.

The 'god' watched the sunrise, letting it flood the inside of the temple. From the bed Tulio heard groaning and the rustling of sheets as Miguel stirred, mumbling something.

'What was that?' Tulio asked.

'Draw the drapes.' Miguel said louder, pulling the sheets over his head.

Tulio moved to untie a set of curtains to block the light from reaching the bed. Nothing was worse than having the sun shining in your eyes as you tried to sleep... hold that thought.

'Why?' Tulio didn't dare to hope.

'Light too bright.' Miguel responded. Tulio waited for the blonde to realise the importance of his words. Miguel opened his eyes but shut them immediately, shielding them from the light, but snapping them back open when his mind began to function. 'I can, I can...'

'See!' Tulio finished, laughing and taking Miguel into a tight hug.

Randa, the healer, chose that moment to appear, carrying another cup of the miracle cure. Seeing their excitement she said quietly, 'Started yes, but not complete.'

Tulio looked at her strangely. Randa was only in her late teens but she always spoke in riddles, never to the point. 'What?'

'Sun God can see the sun, yes, bright sun, but not the moon.' She said cryptically. Tulio's mind slowly worked out what she was saying and disappointment filled him.

'Miguel, what exactly do you see?'

'A bright light over there.' Miguel pointed to the east towards the sun, voice losing some of its earlier joy. 'Nothing else.'

'Started yes, but not complete.' Randa said again.

'I think she means it'll take some time before you regain all your sight.' Tulio translated to Miguel. His partner shrugged, still smiling.

'I can wait.' Miguel replied, drinking the potion Randa placed in his hands with more enthusiasm than usual. Randa examined the blonde again and seemed satisfied. She slithered away silently, leaving a smell of incense lingering behind.

Tulio averted his gaze as Miguel dressed; it landed on an unfinished pyramid on the outskirts of the city. The people of El Dorado had said it was being built to honour the god of the sea, but as yet it was unnamed. Chief Tannabok insisted that the temple would only be named once it was completed. He and Miguel had performed some ritual involving a chicken and paint to ensure the safety of the workers. The pink chicken was still running around the city.

Miguel was wearing an outfit identical to what he'd worn during the feast to celebrate their arrival two years ago, minus the headdress. However he still tied a cloth over his eyes.

'Err Miguel,' Tulio gently pulled the fabric down so it hung around his neck. 'You can see remember.'

'Not enough.' Miguel retied the cloth, tighter this time. 'Besides, the light's annoying.'

Tulio wrapped an arm around Miguel to guide him and together they set off to enjoy what looked to be a glorious day.

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Someone throwing cold water over him rudely waked Jack. Spluttering he swore violently, receiving a hard punch in the stomach. Forcing his eyelids up the Irishman saw he was in the brig of a large ship, secured to the wall with chains, and Count Salar, the native Tzekel-kan and a third unknown man were watching him intensively.

'Good morning.' Salar's expression was like that of a child who'd just gotten a new toy. Jack didn't like it. 'Sleep well?'

'Not sure, ask your mother.' Jack replied with his usual sarcasm. The third man flicked his wrist and a line of agony cut across his chest. Damn, he hadn't noticed the whip.

'Mr. Egan -'

'Jack.' Jack corrected the count.

'Jack, do you know why you're here?' Salar glided closer to the prisoner.

'If you wanted my virginity, you're several years too late mate.' Jack couldn't help himself.

CRACK!

Jack hissed as the whip struck him again.

'An interesting offer, perhaps later.' Salar moved aside to let the third man unchain him. Jack's legs felt like water, but he managed to support his own weight once the restraints were released. 'Follow me.'

Jack kept his mouth shut and did as he was told, desperately trying to think of a way to escape. Salar lead him up onto the deck of his ship. Jack cursed as he saw his crew tied to the main mast, all of who were supporting various injuries of their own. They'd put up a fight, smiling as he saw Scott and several others wink at him. They'd obviously taken down several of the Count's men.

'It's nothing to be smiling about.' The count noticed Jack's grin. 'I just want a trade.'

'The talk to a trader.' Jack knew it was coming.

CRACK!

This time it was across the back. Scott shouted something in French and Jack stifled a laugh. If Count Salar had understood the insult Jack doubted his first mate would still be breathing.

'I'm not a patient man.' The count said quietly. 'It's a simple exchange; the lives of these men for the trail to El Dorado.'

'El do-whata?'

CRACK!

Damn, that one hurt.

'I know who sailed those two men, Tulio and Miguel, to the first marker.' Salar pulled a purple piece of cloth from his sleeve; Tulio's ribbon. 'I found this in your shirt pocket.'

'So that's where it was.'

CRACK!

'Am I going to get whipped every time I speak out of line?'

CRACK!

Count Salar dangled the incriminating piece of evidence in front of the Irishman's eyes.

'I like you Jack,' Salar started, quickly continuing before Jack could answer. 'That's the only reason your men are still alive. I have no problem giving the order to end their lives, do you?'

Jack hated to admit it, but the count had him cornered. If it was one against one Jack would take those odds, but with the whip-guy behind him and the crazy native Tzekel-kan... wait Jack knew that name from Miguel's account of their first encounter with El Dorado.

'Why doesn't Kanni over there show you?' Jack tensed but the whip never came. The priest narrowed his eyes, but didn't speak.

'Cortez wasn't afraid to use force, like myself.' Salar said. 'I'm afraid the High Priest was hit one too many times on the head. Lost parts of him memory.'

'Not of the false gods.' Tzekel-kan hissed. 'They will perish at my hands.'

'Not the blonde one!' Salar quickly corrected, causing the high priest to cringe. 'Our agreement is you can kill the dark haired one, Tulio, but I get the other.'

'Yes my lord. Sorry my lord.' Tzekel-kan bowed hurriedly. Jack made sure to save that piece of information for when he escaped. That matter resolved Salar turned his attention back to Jack.

'Now I won't offer the exchange again.' Salar nodded to a man on deck and he raised a rifle, placing it against Scott's head. Jack gulped. 'I'll count to 6.'

'Isn't it usually three?'

'One.'

'Can't we talk about this?'

'Six.' The count skipped to the end, raising his hand to give the order.

'OK!' Jack cried. Although he liked Tulio and Miguel, his crew were in more danger right now, but he had a plan. 'I'll show you where the blasted marker is. I swear!'

Salar ordered the man to back down, and he did reluctantly. Scott insulted him quietly in French, but to everyone else it sounded like a prayer of relief.

'Very well, I'll take your word. Release the men then cast off.' Salar moved to stand before Jack's small crew. 'And if I so much as suspect you're following me...'

CRACK!

Jack cried out as the blow struck. He couldn't help it, he hadn't been expecting it. His crew flinched.

'Do as he says, I'll be fine.' Jack shouted in French. 'Scott you're in command, take care of the Fox.'

'No, we're taking that sorry excuse for a boat with us.' Salar suddenly joined in, causing both men to wince. Seems he did know French.

Scott gave Jack an apologetic look before the crew reluctantly left. The count addressed the man behind Jack.

'Richard, give him 20 lashes before taking him back to the brig. Give him water, but no food.' Salar walked so he could stare Jack straight in the eye, and said with a cruel grin. 'He won't eat till we find that marker.'

Jack forced himself not to show how much of a blow that was. It had taken him well over a week to sail down there, and although the large ship was bigger the Silver Fox could outrun her any day.

CRACK!

Jack flinched violently. Oh well, only nineteen more to go.

'On second thought, make it 40.'

Damn.

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God, I'm so sorry about the wait, but my El Dorado passion ebbed away into the Numb3rs fandom. I'm actually posting one of several Ian Edgerton centred drabbles after I've put this up, for anyone who watches Numb3rs and knows who that is. I'm trying, no determined to finish this story, if people are still interested in it.

Yea, so I'm not dead or anything. And I also apologise for the excess of Jack in this and the following chapters, but it ties back into the main plot, don't worry.

Desert Thief