The Adventurers

Chapter 1

It was more than just hot and humid; it was a sticky, stinking, wet air that smothered the compound in a muggy blanket. The mud coloured river, snaking in and out of sight through the dense jungle, making its way from the mountain range far to the north down to the coast in the south, widened and slowed as it passed the site of the compound.

On a hillock that overlooked the scattering of huts comprising the tiny settlement sat the main building, a wooden attachment to the stone remains of an ancient Spanish fort. The palm thatched roof extended over an open porch where several wooden chairs with woven pads huddled in the shade.

Captain Seth Forrester sat with a booted leg draped over the arm of one of the chairs and eyed the messenger standing before him with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. Annoyance, because he had been about to remove himself to the trading hut below the government house, to slake his thirst with a mug of the local spirit and try to counter the stifling humidity. Curiosity, because of the information the old man brought.

A large fan powered by a generator under the porch, turned slowly over the cluster of chairs, barely disturbing the heavy air and sweat displayed itself in huge dark patches on his shirt and trousers. A pitcher of lukewarm water stood on a table dappled in water stains that had no chance of drying, amid several chipped tin mugs.

He dropped his leg and swung around to the table, resting his massive arms in front of him and ducking his head as if to charge.

"Just where did you hear this?" Forrester communicated with his visitor in the strange mix of Spanish and chunks of the Tupi-Guaranf linguistic family.

"From traders up the Gingi River. They came by only yesterday with the news."

Seth frowned across at the stooped figure before him, taking in the goatskin hat, the tattered blanket and the rag wrapped feet and legs, and wondered how he could not feel the heat covered like that. "Where did you say these traders heard this gossip?"

"At the mission near Qutamma."

Seth snorted and wiped a finger across his forehead like a squeegee. "There's always some kind of nonsense leaking out from that place; a lot of superstitious hooey for the most part."

"Some believe it to be true, they are already talking about making plans."

"Plans? Plans for what?"

"Going to see and hear if the offer made is true."

"These traders say that somebody at the mission has made an offer for guides to share in a great treasure?" His doubt seeped through to his words.

"That is the word they brought. Maybe you'd consider a small reward for the news?" The man hunched defensively as Seth's eyes went flat.

"Your reward will come if I find any truth to this story"

The man hunched over further, his hands trembling on the bent stick supporting him. "I only pass on what I am told. They said it was a woman who is making the offer. She arrived by boat at the mission with a small group of Katopi tribesmen about two weeks ago." His voice rasped dry and his watery eyes slid over to the water pitcher on the table. "Could a thirsty man have a drink?"

Seth waved an uncaring hand. "This woman, what do you know about her? Does she have a name? Is she staying with the missionaries?"

The old man slopped water into a mug and gulped it with dry lips, bobbing his head, indicating he had an answer. "She stays with Father de Montcleefe in his private lodge. The name heard by the traders was, Blanchert." Another sloppy drink and the old man replaced the mug and the pitcher.

Seth came to his feet as if catapulted. "Blanchert! You say her name is Blanchert?" His voice caromed off the stone walls and down to the compound.

Sensing a definite change in the atmosphere, the old man backed unsteadily toward the porch stairs, nervously nodding his answer. Seth strode around the table and crossed the porch to a bamboo-slatted door strapped with iron ties and hinges. He pulled it wide and bellowed through the opening, leaving the door ajar and returning to stand by the table.

"Have they seen this woman? Do you know what she looks like?"

"One trader boasted that he'd seen her on the lodge verandah and said she has hair the colour of sunshine on a field of sumac."

Forrester made a face at the description, pounded his fist into his hand, and turned toward the door readying another bellow when a tall, muscular man strolled onto the porch and stood at easy rest near the door. Seth began to speak and then stopped and turned to the old man. "Why are you still here, have you got more to say?"

"Nothing, no - nothing. I was hoping perhaps..."

"OUT!" With agility born of fear, the old man scampered down the stairs and was gone.

"You didn't call me for help with that," the man chided, striding casually to the railing across from the table and resting a flank. He plucked at the damp shirt and winced as he shifted off a crease in his pants.

"Very funny, Sax. Does the name Blanchert stir your memory at all?"

"Chessery Blanchert?" He made another face, this one a look of remembered agony.

"The same. That old man says that she's staying with the mission Father up at Qutamma and that she has arrived supposedly offering money for a team of guides, men daring enough to lead her to a store of great wealth."

"Then I pity anybody that takes her up on her offer." Sax stood and leaned his knuckles on the table and stared at the grained wood. "Chessery was never noted for her generosity."

"Apparently she can't get it by herself, Sax, she needs help."

He let a smile leak through at the man's frown. "Right now it's just a rumour but if there is anything to it, I want to know... and if there is I want to be the judge of who goes after it."

Sax pulled back slightly, knowing what was coming next and not liking it in the least. "You know how I feel about what you're gonna suggest, Forrester."

"It would seem." Seth wandered down the porch, his boots clapping noisily on the board floor. A weak sliver of sun sneaked through a space in the thatching and shone like a white scar down Seth's face when he turned back. "We've been stuck in this hole for two months now and still no word from Trask. I'm inclined to think his plan went into the dumper and instead of paying us off he's just buggered off himself. This might be something to compensate us for all this."

He waved a hand around and made a spitting sound. "Maybe we can leave this jungle with something after all." He sat back at his table, brooding. "First we have to find out if it's true. I want you to go to the mission and find out what you can as fast as you can. If this is something we can take advantage of then we want to be first."

"Chessery concerns me, Forrester; you know how I feel about that."

"Your past is past." Seth commented flatly.

Sax snorted, heading for the door. "Maybe as far as you're concerned."

"That's all that matters." His words came out as an order and Sax gritted his teeth.

"I'll leave first thing in the morning."

Seth waved him out, his mind filling with possibilities of re-establishing himself in this Godforsaken, steamy hole, or better still, getting out. He thumped a meaty fist on the table, spilling the pitcher of water.