Entry #29

My prayers were unanswered. We bolted through the gate just a pillar of wood detached and slammed to the ground. The horses were already spooked, and there was no way we would put them in the stable. The structure – like the others, so motionless and ordinary – was now full of fire movement, twisting and turning over itself, occasionally chopping the air with falling beams and a heaving rooftop. Was Lope still alive? Father Leoncio was off of his horse, and running to the stable. He could not fight the flames, he could not know for sure. Was there screaming inside? So many times I have heard the fireplace of my childhood offer such shrills and squeaks as the heat exhausts the wood within the hearth.

I made a move to dismount the horse, but Mama Gondu gripped me tightly. “Stay here, child,” he told me, but I fought myself out of his grasp. I knew just what Father Leoncio was about to do. He was ready to pass through the curtain of fire. Hateful as he was of Lope, his own sense of duty and the leaden seals of his vow propelled him to enter that fire and retrieve the wretched soul. He would not have Lope swallowed by the very Hell fire that inspired him to act out so aggressively, lustfully, inconsiderately.

Father Leoncio was a strong man. I caught him around the waist before he could go inside, and I planted my feet. “Please!” I implored as he fought and struggled against me. He did not have long to struggle, I had to calm him immediately or he would break my hold. “There is nothing you can do. If he is in there, he is dead. He is gone! We cannot lose you, not now!” I threw all of my weight behind me, slamming me hip first into the ground in an effort to pull the Father off of his feet. We both clashed with the ground, and re-insured my grip around him. “You will die in there. Please, do not throw your life away, there may be others that need our help now.”

Father Leoncio threw himself off of me, collapsing to his hands and knees. He pushed to his feet, and turned on Mama Gondu, advancing with a fury burning in his eyes as spit seethed past his bared teeth.

“You bastard! You knew, you knew this would happen.”

Mama Gondu straightened on his saddle. “I cannot see the future.”

“This place is not safe! Stay with us! We have made up a bed, we will keep your horses safe. You really wish to help me?”

“Of course I do!” Mama Gondu roared, and Father Leoncio grabbed his horse by the reigns and started to turn the beast around.

“Then ride to the coast, and bring back someone who can help us.”

“I will not leave,” he barked, “you need my help here, you need me to stay here.”

“I need you to ride.”

“Send the girl! She cannot stay here!”

“This is my home,” I called to him over the roar of fire around us. “And I will make it my tomb if I have to. Find Father Alvarelo, find Tairona along the coast and bring them back.”

Mama Gondu gaped at me, and I advanced with a wicked coldness to my sudden and inexplicable roar.

“You heard the Father, now go!”

He slammed his heels after a doubtful hesitance, and the horse screamed with fear and aggravation. The bright flames and argument around it was probably enough to drive the beast into an angry, frustrated temper. Mama Gondu exclaimed loudly, whistling shrilly, and snapped the reigns. The horse kicked up onto its back hooves and took off through the gate. There were swirls of fire behind Mama Gondu as he left us to scavenge the flaming remains of the mission; the place that had once been our tranquil home.

“Father?” We turned to find Elias lying among the still bodies scattered about the charred courtyard. He reached to us, his arm darkened and burned. In the midst of his burnt leather cuirass and his blackened skin there were deep and shining red slits. He peered up at us, gripping onto Father Leoncio's hand as he came to kneel beside the fallen soldier.

“Elias...”

“You should not be here. I am sorry, I could not keep them back. I had concentrated the Tairona here, around the stable. They... dear God,” tears peeled down the temples of his head, clearing away soot to reveal his natural skin beneath.

“We need to find the doctor,” I gasped, tearing off the sleeves of my habit to wrap his wounds. He stopped my hands, leaving dark smudges of ash and blood along my skin.

“I am done, Hermana.” He shuddered, and vomit swelled behind his lips. Father Leoncio turned him, and he vomited across the ground. The sour smell filled the air, mixed with the smoke, and overpowered any other senses Father Leoncio and I entered this place with. Still, we were faithfully by his side. “I am so sorry, I tried... I wanted to – for once... -” but he never finished. He spasmed in Father Leoncio's arms. He roared, and clasped Elias to him. He rocked the young soldier back and forth, weeping.

Someone approached us, and Father Leoncio saw him before I did. He wheeled around, Elias's dagger drawn from his belt. He put the bloody blade to Doctor Gil's throat, but luckily refrained from pulling. The doctor gaped at him, but the two men embraced, only causing Doctor Gil to recoil, holding his shoulder. He braced himself on a sword he must have taken off one of the soldiers. The blade tilted on its point, and I was to my feet to hold onto the doctor and keep him from falling.

“Basilio,” I exclaimed. “What happened?”

“They set fire to the village. The Tairona were drawn out to save their families, and they were shot. Elias and his men managed to seal the gate, but that soon was set ablaze. The fire spread to the stables.”

“Lope!” Father Leoncio caught Doctor Gil by the arm, his look was desperate. “What happened to Lope?”

Doctor Gil shuddered. “He escaped.”

“Was it the fire?”

“No,” the doctor answered. “No, he escaped before the fire. I am not sure how, but he must have been let out.” He glanced between the two of us. “I saw him run into the chapel. That was before the attack though. I did not want to believe it, but just as I was reporting to Elias, the village was attacked.”

I cut in. “Where is Father Alvarelo? Has he returned?”

“I am not sure,” Doctor Gil shook his head. His dark hair was strewn in front of his light brown eyes, a mixture of sweat and blood in them, his cheek bruised, and his hands were shaky. A thin sheen of red blood was drying into the crevices of his skin with dirt and ash. Beyond these grim colors, he was struck pale.

“Where are the men?” Father Leoncio inquired.

“They set fire to the mission on Lope's orders, and ransacked it looking for you and Hermana Nieve. When they could not find you, they ran off.”

“And have you seen Lope leave?”

“No. Nor Father Alvarelo. I have been trying to save men since the group left, it seemed the only safest time.”

“You are armed though... and wounded.”

“They had not all left.”

Father Leoncio exchanged a glance with me, and I stared at him levelly. “We should try and find Father Alvarelo and Lope.”

“The chapel is still intact,” Doctor Gil panted. “God knows why. You might want to start there.”

“Get yourself to safety, Doctor Gil,” Father Leoncio demanded, but Doctor Gil caught him before he could take off for the chapel.

“Take this,” he pressed a single shot pistol into his hand. “It has not been fired yet,” he winced, blinking sweat from his eyes. “I managed to disarm one of the soldiers that attacked me. I think it can help you more than me.”

“Take my horse,” Father Leoncio indicated the pacing and fretful beast. Doctor Gil nodded, and went to calm the creature. I was startled out of a horrified stupor when Father Leoncio seized my arm. “You, I want you to go with him.”

“No,” I answered firmly. “I am staying here. You heard me when I spoke to Gondu, and I will not say it again.”

Father Leoncio was reticent, but I knew he understood. Perhaps that is why he let me stay and did not insist. Why he waved Doctor Gil on. The doctor wheeled about on the horse, dug his heels into the mount's sides, and took off through the smoldering gate, leaving us once more with the courtyard and deteriorating fire around us. We could only hope that Gondu or Gil would bring back help. Father Leoncio checked the pistol, I was surprised by how well he knew his way around the firearm. He nodded for me to follow, and we both raced for the chapel that now towered over us. The flames licked higher than the tallest point on the roof. The bell inside would occasionally strike as if some ghost hand were pulling the rope that ran deep into the stomach of the chapel. Father Leoncio shoved the doors open.

The walls were being licked by flames, the glass was warping and cracking, ready to burst, and the bits of the roof fell. However, it seemed something unnatural was keeping the fire from progressing. The fire surrounded us, but was holding its ground as if waiting for a command from some superior. At the end of the aisle, I saw Father Alvarelo kneeling in prayer at the feet of the crucifix. The altar was going up in a colorful blaze, carrying bouquets of flowers with it, and reducing their petals to perfumed dust. The sweet smell mixed with the air, but was ultimately vanquished by the smell of burning wood and thick, dark smoke.

“Father Alvarelo!” I called, and just then Lope lunged from his place beside the door. The gun went off, and pierced through Lope's shoulder. The bullet slammed through and burst out the other side, imbedding in the wall with a slap of blood and tissue. This did not seem to slow Lope. His hand ensnared Father Leoncio's face and he slammed the back of the priest's head into the nearest pew. Father Leoncio spilled across the floor, his robe swirled around him and he was out. Lope stepped over the heap that was Father Leoncio and advanced on me. His skin was crawling with the bot fly larva. There were two or three at a time crawling out of the deep warbles in his flesh, leaving puss and blood in their wake – a sick mixture of pink that dripped off his flesh.

“Stay away from me!” I screamed, and brandished the dagger I had slipped into my hand upon leaving the courtyard. He did not seem afraid of the knife, only laughed cruelly in my face. I staggered away, falling to the ground, and he shuffled closer to snag one of my kicking legs as I attempted to push back to my feet again.

“Lope, leave her,” came Alvarelo's voice from its place by the inflamed altar. “I would like to have a word with our Hermana Nieve.”

Father Alvarelo stood slowly. The fire behind him was brilliant, but his form was lanky and dark. He was much more slender than he had been when he left, though maybe that was the fire, the smoke that had reduced my vision. I looked from him to Lope, who begrudgingly backed off. He sat down in front of Father Leoncio, and started to play with his fingers. He was tugging on the Father's nails experimentally. I am not sure what had happened to Lope, but he was no longer in control. Not of the situation, not of himself or his actions. He was completely depleted, his mentality that of a child's upon discovering a new bug.

“Of course you would come here with him,” he snarled, nodding toward Father Leoncio. This was unlike Father Alvarelo. His footsteps were not straight either. They meandered, and he was stumbling over chunks of debris that had tumbled into an ashen heap on the ground. “I am amazed you even came back. Father Leoncio is a very demanding man, and the Tairona love to keep little girls in the jungle.”

“Father Alvarelo?”

“Father Alvarelo! Father Alvarelo! He was right about you.”

“He?” I stood slowly, and stepped back, though I knew I only had so far to go before I staggered into the range of Lope's strong, long reach.

“The ingrate – Lope. He is behind you now, you know?”

Of course I knew, so I did not look. My eyes were focused on Father Alvarelo. I was afraid to take them off him.

“What happened to you? You were gone for so long.”

“I have sent word to the Yucatan and Mexico as well... inquiring as to the whereabouts of our beloved Captain. I was told I would receive word from the messenger in town if I stayed but a night. The way the man put it was so appealing. Have a drink with him, have a smoke with him, chew some coca and eat a warm meal. We drank. And we drank. And he told me that a woman could not be an indulgence, that wine could not be an indulgence, that such things could not be unacceptable if God allowed their existance.”

“It is not God that has such things in this world, but the devil himself. Were you tempted?”

“I was,” he smiled boyishly at me, and strode closer. “By a beautiful woman,” he reached slowly for my hand, and drifted his fingers along one of the knuckles and up the wrist. I remember his touch now and my skin crawls with pleasurable bumps and shivers. “She came here a stranger. She had never seen the coast of the Caribbean, and she had never seen the cloudy forests at the base of the sierras. She wore dark robes, and there were only occasional flashes of white to be seen in them,” he traced my collar, he traced the band now laden with sweat across my head, and slowly peeled the cloth away from my head. “Her hair was long and dark,” he pinched a stray, wild lock between his fingers and coiled it experimentally. “Her skin was pale, but the longer she stayed in the Caribbean the darker it became. I was reminded of amber that would drip from strong pines back home. I could only imagine such skin,” he leaned in, and smelled the exposed skin of my neck, “could taste as sweet,” and his tongue was warm and coaxing in the path it drew along my pulse. He must have sensed the rush of blood, he had a knowing chuckle to him.

“I found a woman who looked like her,” he was behind me, his longer fingers trailed down my stomach as his arms wrapped around my sides, “and I ravaged her fiercely but a few nights ago,” he spilled his whisper into my ear, and where there was part of me who hated it, there was another part that so loved the tickle of his voice and breath. “Over and over again. I returned to my mission, re-imagined. I would tell this beautiful woman my revelation. I would explain in detail how much I wanted her from the very first moment I saw her, how she wove mischief and magic in my heart in a way not either of us could have thought possible. I would tell her these things only because I sensed... she wanted them as well.”

“Victor,” I closed my eyes, this could not be happening. I was on fire, not just from the heat surrounding us, but his touch was like the very flames licking up along the wall. He was setting my skin ablaze, suffocating me within the folds of my habit. I wanted nothing more than to shed these trappings.

“But I come back to a man chained like a beast in my stables. Lope. He has killed Pepita. He has told me that she wanted nothing more than for him to rot. That like all women she is an Eve, so innocent in appearance and demeanor, but with actions so sinful and so despicable by man that I could do nothing but empathize. His words had a strange power over me, but really in the end... it was knowledge he gave me. Do you want to know what he told me next? That you had left with
Leoncio. Imagine my amazement. I released Lope, he was all I had left.”

Father Alvarelo laughed unevenly, the laughter shrill before descending into lower tones that were enough snap me out of the spell he was putting me under. I turned, but Father Alvarelo clasped into my shoulders and forced me down the aisle toward the burning altar.

“Just tell me it is not true. You were not with him. You were not by his side. Did I see you with him when you returned? Was it really you in the courtyard together? Lope said it was true, that you left with him for a tryst in the underbrush. I did not want to believe it, but... what he said seemed so true. Did you leave with him?”

“Father Alvarelo... Victor... I left, but...”

“You foul whore!” He threw me to the ground, and was on top of me. He used his knees to spread my legs apart, and he ripped at my habit over and over, his hands tearing into the cloth like claws. All the while he wept and bowed his head to nearly exposed breasts, now heaving up and down with each deep breath. “You... horrid bitch,” he cradled his hands along my ribs band began to kiss a trail up my chest, around my neck, his body and lips shaking with openly gushing sobs. “How I wanted you. How I loved you.”

My dagger slipped in to his stomach with ease. There was a moment of pause where his eyes went wide and he sputtered his breath before the blood gave and started to flow over the hilt. The durable skin had been difficult to penetrate, but once the blade had sunk in, the blood would not be denied its escape. He peered at me, this broken woman so full of tears beneath him.

“I loved you,” I whispered, a brief throe through my body as a sob wracked my form. “I still do, why else would I do this?”

He held me in spite of my murder done to him, and he folded his lip in. The color was fading from his face, those cheeks I had found so sunkissed and smooth upon first seeing him in the tavern. I remembered him in the wide brimmed hat, the night by the bonfire, the night in the rain when it was clear just what we felt, and what we had denied. I remembered every minute of him, and I knew I would never forget these final moments. His body dropped against mine. Not dead, but
unconscious from shock and such a sharp grief I only felt when my brother died. I could only shove Alvarelo off and face a seething, spitting Lope at the end of the aisle.