The Aztec Heresy by Paul Christopher Read Free Book Online Page B

William?’’
    ‘‘William was my father. Billy is better.’’
    ‘‘As you wish.’’
    ‘‘Cavallo Nero,’’ reminded Finn. ‘‘Friar Bartolome de las Casas.’’
    ‘‘Ah, yes,’’ murmured the old man. ‘‘The Aztec Heresy of Hernán Cortéz. And the fate of the Nuestra Señora de las Angustias off Key West, Florida.’’
    ‘‘From which virtually all the treasure was recovered the following year, 1522, and Bartolome de las Casas rescued. That much was in the records in Seville,’’ said Billy.
    The old man laughed and chose another biscuit. ‘‘Seville. The Archives of Broken Dreams. A thousand plans hatched, ten thousand treasure maps described. Did you know that Tomás de Torquemada, the first Grand Inquisitor, held the original tribunal of the Spanish Inquisition in the very building that houses the Archives of the Indies today? If those walls could speak you’d hear nothing but the screams of the damned.’’
    ‘‘I still don’t see the connection to this Cavallo Nero group,’’ said Finn.
    "P-Two was effectively a continuation of the Inquisition—the Vatican Inquisition—all of it, not just the Spanish directorate. Their job then, as now, was to root out the enemies of the Holy Church and deal with them. Often violently. At some level they had to be at arm’s length from the Vatican itself, so they invested special powers in the Dominican order to do so. The so-called Hounds of God— Domine Canis, an old joke, I’m afraid. Their job was to find the heretics. The particularly powerful and important ones like Hernán Cortéz were handled by an even more secret group within the Dominicans—the Cavallo Nero . The Black Knights. Effectively they were the Vatican’s hit men.’’ He paused. ‘‘They still are.’’
    ‘‘Cortéz was a heretic?’’
    ‘‘Hernán Cortéz was extremely wealthy by the time he’d finished with Mexico. And he wasn’t leaving, which worried the governor of Cuba at the time, Don Diego Velázquez. Somehow he discovered that Cortéz had hidden a vast fortune from the court of the king and he had proof.’’
    ‘‘The Codex.’’
    ‘‘Yes.’’ The old man nodded. ‘‘A complete history, including precise directions to the secret hoard, a virtual city of gold in the Yucatán jungle.’’
    ‘‘What happened to the Codex?’’ Billy asked.
    ‘‘Bartolome de las Casas was taking it to the Vatican. It was lost aboard the Nuestra Señora de las Angustias . Destroyed in the wreck.’’
    ‘‘But the story doesn’t end there, does it?’’ Finn said.
    ‘‘Stories like that never do. That’s how they become mysteries and legends.’’
    ‘‘How does it end?’’
    ‘‘With a question mark’’—the old man smiled—‘‘and rumors.’’
    ‘‘What kind of rumors?’’ Finn asked.
    ‘‘Rumors that Don Diego Velázquez, the governor of Cuba and Cortéz’s sworn enemy, was no fool. He had a copy of the Codex made and sent it off on another ship, the San Anton, a nau, or caravella, a much smaller ship than the treasure galleons. Some were less than a hundred tons. They were fast, mostly used to carry important passengers or documents.’’
    ‘‘Like the copy of the Codex,’’ said Billy.
    ‘‘Umm.’’ The old man nodded. ‘‘Like the Codex.’’
    ‘‘What happened to her?’’ Finn said.
    ‘‘She sank in the same hurricane as the Nuestra Señora de las Angustias, ’’ said the old man. He poured himself another cup of tea and took a third biscuit from the plate.
    ‘‘Where?’’ Billy asked.
    ‘‘Ah,’’ said the old man, eyes twinkling behind his candy-colored spectacles. ‘‘Now that’s an entirely different story.’’
    ‘‘One you’re willing to tell us?’’ Finn asked quietly.
    ‘‘I’d be happy to tell you if I knew, but that sort of thing is well outside my present mandate.’’
    ‘‘Mandate?’’ Billy said. ‘‘Odd word.’’
    ‘‘Have you ever heard of an organization called