Lord Of Zaracus

Professor Madison led her across the grassy stretch to where several tents were grouped. He lifted the flap of one and said: ‘This has been allotted to you, my dear, and I’m just next door. It looks spartan, but it’s quite comfortable really. These air-beds are remarkably comfortable.’

Carolyn stepped inside. As her father had said, it did look spartan, the bare earth partly covered by a cotton rug beside a low camp bed. Near by was a rough wood table, and a chair, and a polythene erection served as a wardrobe. Electricity was supplied from their own generator, her father explained, which was an extension of the one owned by Don Carlos, the owner of the valley.

‘I expect Bill told you about Don Carlos, didn’t he?’ went on the professor, smiling and nodding as two Mexicans came in carrying Carolyn’s cases and boxes.

‘He did mention him,’ agreed Carolyn, sitting on the bed to test it. ‘Sounds quite a character, by all accounts. Tell me,’ she stood up, rubbing the seat of her pants, ‘who supplies all this equipment?’

‘We do. Lord, Carolyn, how many cases have you brought? You must have paid out a fortune in excess baggage!’

Carolyn grimaced. ‘I did rather,’ she nodded. ‘But, darling, I couldn’t come all this way, into a climate like this, without having at least two changes of clothes for every day.’

‘Every day of the time you’ll be here, by the looks of things,’ remarked Professor Madison, dryly. ‘And what’s that? A record player?’

‘Of course. Heavens, I had to provide myself with some entertainment! Besides, it will be fun in the evenings, if we can dance or something—–’

‘Dance!’ Her father stared at her. ‘Now look here, Carolyn, let’s get one or two things straight first of all: to begin with, as you are the only woman in a camp of over twenty men, including the Indian helpers, of course, I want you to behave yourself. How on earth could you conduct a dance here, with every man on the site competing for your favours? No, Carolyn, that is definitely out. And another thing, I know you’re used to running wild back in London, but here, in Zaracus, things are very different, and I want you to act with some degree of decorum, and finally, I do not wish you to get involved in any way with any of the men on the site. No’—as Carolyn would have protested—‘nobody! Is that understood?’

Carolyn’s cheeks were red. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she exclaimed hotly. ‘Heavens, you’re acting as though I was the original Mata Hari, or something! I’ve never given you any reason to speak to me like that! I didn’t come here to disrupt the expedition, I came to see you, to be with you. Now you’re making me wish I’d never come!’

‘Oh, Carolyn, that was not my intention, although I must admit that when I saw you arriving I had some uncertainty as to the wiseness of such an intrusion. But you’re here now, and I want you to feel at home and get completely acclimatised before you meet Don Carlos. Bill may have told you that he does not know of your arrival. Needless to say, I expect a little antipathy on his part; after all, he is of Spanish descent, and they do not treat their women as equals. Certainly not as equals in an adventure of this kind. It is fortunate that he is away at the moment, which will give you the opportunity to settle in before he discovers your presence here.’

‘Oh heavens!’ Carolyn raised her dark eyebrows in exasperation. ‘What does it matter what he thinks? He’s not in charge of the expedition, you are! How can he dictate what you do?’

‘Carolyn, this is Mexico, not England, and this valley belongs to Don Carlos. In the eyes of the Mexicans, he is the lord of Zaracus, and as such, his word is law! We rely a great deal on his assistance; he supplies us with the very necessary help we need for much of the labouring involved in this dig. Should he refuse us the labour, or even order us to leave the valley, we should be sunk. Surely you can see the position I am in.’

‘Well, I think it all sounds positively feudal, like Bill said,’ retorted Carolyn, frowning. ‘But all right, Dad. We’ll play it your way. Just don’t expect too much all at once, will you?’

The professor laughed. ‘No, I won’t do that,’ he said. ‘Now come along, and I’ll show you where the shower is. It’s rather primitive, too, but no doubt it will serve the purpose.’

The shower was accommodated in a wooden shed, which Carolyn supposed was an improvement on the canvas tents. It comprised quite simply an overhead tank which was filled with rainwater, and sprayed an icy scattering of water when the catch was released. The professor laughed at Carolyn’s expression, and then left her to her ablutions.

Carolyn stripped off her clothes, thrusting them carelessly into the bag she had brought with her. She laid a huge orange bath towel and her clean change of clothes over two hooks which protruded from the wooden walls. She released the plug and almost screamed with shock as the icy water fell on to her overheated body. But after a few moments the spray became quite enjoyable, and she rinsed all the dust and perspiration from her skin with appreciation. After the exhausting day she had experienced it was wonderful to feel clean and cool again, and it was amazing how her doubts and anxieties fell away with the advent of this feeling of well-being. She was about to turn off the water when looking down she saw an enormous beetle crawling across the muddy floor at her feet.

Ordinarily, she would have behaved quite sensibly and stepped out of its way, but in her still overstimulated condition it seemed the last straw. Panic over-riding all her natural inhibitions she let out a sharp cry, and grabbed at the orange towel desperately. Winding it unceremoniously around her, she thrust open the door, almost falling out in her haste, and then found herself grasped roughly by a man who had narrowly avoided being hit by the carelessly opened door.

Carolyn struggled wildly, almost dislodging the indifferently fastened towel, as she looked up into the man’s face. There was no doubt that he was one of the Mexicans with his darkly tanned skin and dark eyes, and she did not care just then who he was. She wanted to be free, to get as far away from that revolting insect, if such a huge thing could be called an insect, as possible.

‘Let me go!’ she commanded, angrily. ‘Let me go!’

‘Calm yourself,’ said the man, coldly, but Carolyn did not notice that he had spoken in English.

‘I won’t calm myself,’ she exclaimed, furiously.

‘Excuse me!’ The sarcasm in the man’s voice was lost on Carolyn, as he stepped past her and secured the catch of the tank, thus preventing the remains of its contents from being lost. Carolyn had forgotten to turn it off in her haste. Then he looked back at her and Carolyn gathered the towel closer about her, as she became aware of the scarcity of her attire. Her damp hair was in disorder about her shoulders, and for the first time in her life she felt unable to cope with the situation. She realised she must appear very foolish and her anger overrode her common decency.

‘How you—you people can live in such appalling circumstances is beyond me!’ she exploded. ‘Like—like animals! Do you realise I could have been eaten alive by the bugs in that ghastly hell-hole!’

The man’s eyes grew colder if that was humanly possible, and for the first time Carolyn became aware of a kind of hauteur about him, and felt the first twinges of apprehension. The man was tall, much taller than most of the Mexicans she had seen since her arrival, with a lean, hard body. His features were lean also, and if not handsome he possessed a compellingly attractive countenance. His hair was thick and black as pitch, and grew rather low on his tanned neck. Dressed in a loose white shirt, and stained, cream cotton trousers who else could he be than one of the labourers?

Then, all at once, her father was there, with Donald Graham, looking hot and flustered, his expression one of annoyance when he looked at Carolyn.

‘Don Carlos,’ he was saying with some humility. ‘Whatever is going on here? Carolyn?’

Don Carlos! Carolyn’s stomach plunged. It couldn’t be true! This man, dressed like one of his own labourers, could not be the lord of Zaracus!

But he was, of course, and now Carolyn knew why her father was looking so angry. Hadn’t he only been telling her half an hour ago that their being in the valley relied on Don Carlos’s permission? But he had also said that Don Carlos was away so surely she could be forgiven for mistaking his identity. But even so, a small voice argued inside her, she had been rude, very rude, and there was no excuse for that, no matter who he was. After all, she was a visitor to his country, and as such ought to act with politeness. What had her father said? With some degree of decorum! That was it, well, she had failed, abysmally, and heaven knew what was going to happen now.

‘I’m afraid this—er—young lady seems to have encountered some difficulty while she was taking a shower,’ Don Carlos was saying, smoothly. ‘Unfortunately, I have not the knowledge of her name, or of the reason she is here.’ His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Professor Madison. ‘I gather you know the young lady.’

His accent was effortless, and Carolyn chided herself for not realising that he was no uneducated native from the bush.

Professor Madison’s face was bright red. ‘I’m sorry, Don Carlos, but I feel this is neither the time nor the place to introduce you to my daughter. Carolyn, I would suggest you find your clothes and go to your tent and put them on—at once!’

Carolyn immediately felt as though she had been reduced to about five years old, and it took the greatest amount of courage to open the shower door and retrieve her bag and stuff her clean clothes inside it. As she did so she saw the crushed bug on the floor. Obviously someone had placed their foot firmly on it, preventing any further intrusion on its part. And only one person could have had the chance to do that.

She straightened and emerged from the hut, passing the small group of men without a word, although she allowed herself one glance at Don Carlos. Her eyes met his dark enigmatic ones for one moment, and she felt a surge of fury. She was sure she could see a faint glimmer of sardonic amusement in their depths, and gathering up the ends of the orange towel she made as distinguished an exit as she could.

CHAPTER TWO (#ud6c7b96f-f4ca-58f2-8a44-d6eb7d17a55b)

CAROLYN was dressed in a slim-fitting pale blue shift of tricel velvet, her hair combed smooth and caught up in a knot on top of her head when her father finally came to find her. He entered her tent looking dark-browed and angry, and Carolyn felt all her earlier trepidation materialise again.

‘All right, all right,’ she said, lighting a cigarette before he could say anything. ‘I’m sorry if I upset your Señ d’Alvarez, or whatever his name is!’

Professor Madison’s mouth was hard. ‘And I suppose you think that is all that is necessary,’ he said, with contempt. ‘My dear Carolyn, you simply can’t go around in this country acting so carelessly! I heard what you said—that the Mexicans lived like savages—and quite frankly it appalled me. If you felt like this, why on earth did you come?’

Carolyn lifted her slim shoulders helplessly. ‘Oh, honestly, Dad, it wasn’t like that at all. Surely, you don’t imagine I walked out of the shower and attacked the man!’

‘Well, what did happen?’

‘Didn’t Don Carlos enlighten you?’ Her tone was sarcastic.

‘Some. Obviously, as a gentleman he forbore to quote me all the distasteful details.’

‘Obviously.’

‘So go on. What did happen?’

Carolyn sighed, and drew on her cigarette deeply. ‘Well, I was having a shower, as you know, when this enormous—beetle, I suppose you would call it, came crawling across the floor like some monstrous reincarnation of a cockroach. Naturally, I was startled, to put it mildly. I think I just grabbed the towel, and dashed out, and of course, this man—Don Carlos—was outside. Well, I practically fell into his arms, and I guess I just vent my fear and anger on him.’ She flushed. ‘I didn’t even mean what I said. I just wanted to lash out at somebody, and he—was there,’ she finished lamely.

‘I see.’ Her father drew out his pipe. ‘And I suppose you realise that by—lashing out, as you put it, you jeopardised the security of all of us here!’

‘I wasn’t to know he was who he turned out to be,’ protested Carolyn. ‘Good lord, you had told me he was away. Besides, he doesn’t dress like a—like an overlord, or anything. He—he looked like one of the Mexicans I’ve seen helping around the camp.’

‘Don Carlos Fernandez Monterra d’Alvarez doesn’t have to look like anything; he just is! As you get to know him better—or perhaps I should say, if you get to know him better, you will realise that he emanates authority, with every gesture, every movement he makes. Besides, he is well liked by everyone, and in short, treats his workers with real consideration. That is why it is insufferable that you should treat him so abominably. Can’t you see that by treating him like that, no matter who you thought he was, you have insulted him, his authority, if you like. He would not care for you to speak to his lowliest peasant as you spoke to him!’

‘Oh, Dad!’ Carolyn studied the glowing tip of her cigarette. It was getting dark in the tent, and the professor leaned across to switch on the table lamp by the bed.

Her father chewed his pipe reflectively, and looked at Carolyn intently. ‘I—I may have to ask you to return to England,’ he began.