Pyramid of Blood (Swords Versus Tanks Book 3) by M Harold Page Read Free Book Online Page A

let them rattle you. Be polite, and perhaps we’ll get out of here with enough 'firewater' to quench the airship’s thirst."
    Ranulph turned back to the stone platform and mounted the first step. He'd come here seeking magic. But now it would be enough to get home alive. He rubbed his forehead. That meant using... diplomacy.
    #
    Jasmine tensed her limbs against her bonds. The leather squeaked but refused to stretch. She strained for a dozen heartbeats, cool oil trickling down her belly, muscles aching. Then she let the wet heat press her into the altar’s warm leather padding.
    Wisdom-at-Night’s face blocked the view of the black clouds. The priestess smiled. Her nails drew a tingling trail down Jasmine’s flank.
    Jasmine squirmed. She blinked away the sweat. "What now?"
    “Nothing bad,” said Wisdom-at-Night. She gave an order in her native language, then vanished from view.
    Slave girls appeared to either side. Their clammy hands parted Jasmine’s breasts, drawing the skin tight against her sternum. One girl leaned over Jasmine’s face – pendulous brown flesh tantalisingly out of reach – and dabbed cold black ink onto the taut skin.
    The girl reversed her brush to present glass needle-points to Jasmine’s skin. Now she remembered the rotting human hearts adorning her lover’s pyramid. She curled against her thongs, straining every muscle, and raised her face. "Let me go!"
    Wisdom-at-Night stood at her feet, regarding her with alien eyes. She stroked Jasmine’s immobile foot. "Now we have exchanged gifts, you must bear the mark of the Dancing Earth Fish," she said, the words not quite matching the movements of her gold-bedecked lips. She climbed onto the altar and knelt between Jasmine’s legs. "Relax." She called out in her own language, and a hundred female voices chanted a response.
    Warm feelings eddied through Jasmine. She lowered her head to the padding and stared up at the roiling blue-black clouds. She had no choice, after all. No choice, whatsoever.
    The needles bit. Jasmine yelped. She closed her eyes against the pain. Something trickled down her chest onto her throat. The needles bit again, and again. Jasmine opened her mouth to scream but could not find the breath.
    Wisdom-at-Night’s slender hand slid between her tensed thighs and flexed .
    Then Jasmine did scream, but not in pain. Overhead, thunder crashed. The clouds hurled scalding rain onto her pierced flesh.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Rain streamed down Ranulph’s face — warm rain that brought no relief from the heat. He raised his hand to shield his eyes and stared at the entrance to the Place of the Warriors.
    It had jaws.
    Great carved canines served as jambs. Jagged stone teeth formed the lintel. A tongue of crimson tiles projected from the hellish gate and undulated halfway down the steps. As Ranulph stepped onto its tip, he wiped the sweat from his brow then extended four fingers and made the sign of the gridiron, left-to-right, sternum to throat.
    Lord Obsidian-Death's eyes narrowed. He seemed unperturbed by the heavy raindrops weighing down his feathers. "An interesting gesture," he remarked.
    Ranulph could almost hear Albrecht, Diplomacy you great oaf! He flushed despite the heat. "One of respect," he said. "Were the masons local?" A good topic that. Clerics at home would talk for hours about where they found this or that craftsman, how much their church or cathedral had cost to build, and what tribulations were overcome in its construction.
    But the Tolmec priest merely cocked his head to one side. "Make haste," he said, "A great feast awaits."
    The hellish gate opened onto a wide three-sided cloister, with Tolmec warriors stood like idols between each triangular column. In the centre, a great canopy of woven leaves sheltered low tables from the downpour. Naked boys scurried to lay out food and drink for the guests. Others swung burning balls of incense, harrying the worst clots of mosquitoes that sought refuge under the