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‘There are too many, Sahib! They’re coming up other paths to the side! We can’t hold them! Run! Run!’
Mr Ambrose wasn’t one to ever take commands. But I guess he chose to view this as a friendly recommendation, because he turned and, grabbing my hand again, started to dash across the bridge, Karim hot on our heels. We were halfway across when the sneering voice of Colonel Silveira stopped us in our tracks.
‘Halt! Halt or you’ll all die!’
We whirled around, the bridge swaying precariously underneath us. My eyes zeroed in on Colonel Silveira. He was standing at the edge of the bridge, holding something shiny to one of the ropes. I squinted. It was difficult to make out at this distance, but that almost looked like a…
‘Oh crap!’
Beside me, I saw a muscle in Mr Ambrose’s jaw twitch. ‘My sentiments exactly, Mr Linton.’
The colonel was holding a knife.
‘One step farther,’ he shouted, ‘and I’ll cut this rope! All of you will plummet to your death!’
‘Then you’ll never find the treasure!’ Mr Ambrose called back, his voice as cool as a cucumber on ice. ‘Without the manuscript, nobody can!’
Even at this distance, I saw the colonel’s eyes glitter. ‘I’ll find it eventually. There are only so many peaks in these mountains. The only reason you are still alive is that I don’t want to waste time with an unnecessary search.’
His eyes met those of Mr Ambrose. For a few moments the two men just stared at each other, locked in a silent battle that needed no swords or fists or guns.
‘Throw away your weapons,’ the colonel commanded. ‘Come back and surrender, or I will cut through this rope, and you will plunge to your death!’
It all felt a bit like one of the scenes from my favourite adventure novels: the manic villain, the beautiful heroine with her hero sidekick in deadly danger - only in real life, it wasn’t quite as enjoyable.
‘Last warning!’ the colonel shouted. ‘Throw away your weapons, or I will cut through the rope.’
‘I don’t think so.’ With an ice-cold stare at Colonel Silveira, Mr Ambrose raised his gun, pointing it straight at the rope next to him. ‘Leave now, or I will sever the rope!’
‘What?’ the colonel demanded.
‘What?’ I demanded. This hadn’t happened in any of my adventure novels!
Mr Ambrose cocked his head, like a schoolmaster glancing down at an ignorant pupil. ‘Didn’t you know? This bridge is the only way to the treasure. If I destroy it, you will never get to your goal. Leave. Now.’ He rested the muzzle of the revolver against the old, fraying rope. ‘Or I shoot.’
‘If you shoot, you will all die,’ the colonel pointed out with what I thought was admirable logic. I had been about to make that point myself.
‘Maybe.’ Mr Ambrose gave a barely perceptible shrug, glancing down at the chasm beneath us. ‘Maybe not. I have been told my head is quite hard. It might withstand the impact.’
That might actually be true. But that didn’t exactly make me feel more comfortable about what would happen to the rest of us.
‘What are you doing?’ I hissed at him. ‘Haven’t you read any adventure novels? He’s the villain! He’s supposed to be the one threatening to plunge us into a deadly chasm, not you!’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, Mr Linton,’ he said, his tone, or rather the lack of it, making it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. He directed his gaze at the colonel, hard. ‘Well, colonel? I am waiting.’
An immeasurably long second passed. A second in which anything was possible. The colonel’s aristocratic face was completely unreadable. There was no telling what he might have done if not, at that very moment, from the other end of the gorge,
a familiar voice had shouted: ‘Everyone drop their weapons, or I will cut the ropes!’
I whirled around, just in time to see Lieutenant de Alvarez step up to the rope on the other side of the bridge, raising his knife. Behind him, his men fanned out, covering the edge of the gorge, a mirror of the Imperialist troops on the other side.
‘Is that who I think it is?’ Mr Ambrose hissed out from between clenched teeth, his gaze still fixed on Colonel Silveira. The two of us were standing back-to-back now, with Karim standing beside us, looking exceedingly unhappy at being unsure whom to shoot first.
‘I’m afraid so,’ I whispered back. ‘What should we do?’
But before either of us could do anything, the decision was taken out of our hands.
‘He lied!’ I heard the triumph in Colonel Silveira’s voice, and, whirling back to face him, saw the gleam in his eyes. ‘There must be another way across, and those rebel rats found it! His threat is empty! Charge, men! Charge!’
