Eberbach had established before he left Cuzco that they could not reach their goal by helicopter; the narrow chasm where the temple to the Sun God perched was far too dangerous, with high winds and changeable weather. His forthright attitude, however, led quickly to the one local guide willing to brave the mountain passes despite the early season.

        The negotiations were not easy. Both Eberbach and Eroica were fluent in Spanish, but many of the locals spoke only Quechua, of which neither of them knew a word. Working through a translator, they discovered that the only guide willing to take them into the mountains was a boy of sixteen. The Major didn't like entrusting their lives to such a child, but Eroica insisted that they listen to his credentials before dismissing the sole possibility.

        The boy, Hualpa, explained that he had been traveling those passes his entire life, from the time he was old enough to sit on a burro. “But we cannot take pack animals if we leave now,” the interpreter translated the boy's words. “We must travel on foot. There are places where the slightest sound could set off an avalanche that would knock us all into a chasm and smother us.”

        Eroica grinned at the Major and asked in English, “Can you refrain from shouting ‘Idiot!’ or ‘Pervert!’ at me in such places?”

        “As long as you refrain from acting like either one,” Eberbach assured him in the same language. He knew the Earl's taste for beautiful young men, and their erstwhile guide was already turning worshipful liquid eyes on the tempestuous blond. Remembering the boy in Persia, he wondered what the Earl considered the age of consent, remembering that by law in England it was indeed sixteen. But then, there was not likely to be much opportunity for perversion on a freezing mountain trail, so the question would be moot until their return. After that, he told himself, he didn't care what Eroica did.

        Turning to the translator, he asked in Spanish, “Does this boy know where the temple of the Sun God is?”

        Hualpa grew animated at that. “I have been there many times with my grandfather, before he died last Fall. We worshipped there, and the gods protected us. It was my grandfather who led the Europeans to the temple two years ago.” His eyes moved in awe to Eroica. “You are testing me, are you not, my lord?”

        Eberbach saw the shock cross the thief's face. Bonham and Jones had said nothing at all, so they had not accidentally blurted out the Earl's title. He had not given it, calling himself only Dorian Gloria, a name which did not sound nearly so foppish in Spanish as it did in English or German.

        Eroica asked, “Why do you call me that, little brother?”

        The boy's eyes widened. “It is you! Oh, my lord, I am honored above all mortals to accompany you and the Brother of the Moon to your temple!” And he bowed his head, as if in worship.

        “What superstitious mumbo-jumbo!” Eberbach observed when they had concluded the negotiations and were walking back toward the hotel. “I think he actually took you for the reincarnation of the Sun God.”

        “What does it matter?” asked Eroica. “We've got our guide, and we'll be off to the temple tomorrow morning.”

        “That boy only agreed because he's in awe of you. Probably half in love with you, too,” said the Major.

        “Jealous?” the Earl teased. Before Eberbach could sputter out a reply, he smiled his sunniest smile and added, “No need to be. You're the one I love, Brother of the Moon. What a perfect name for you, with your pale face against night-black hair ... coupled with your rock-hard disposition. My own personal moon rock.”

        “You — ” Eberbach began.

        “Go ahead. Call me pervert. Call me queer. Call me anything you like, but get the shouting out of your system.”

        Eberbach clenched his jaw. “There's nothing to shout about. You haven't done anything but be your usual foppish self. I should be used to that.”

        They had reached the small hotel now, and stopped at the desk to pick up the keys to their rooms. Eroica glanced sideways at the Major in the way that gave him what he could only describe as a creepy feeling, and said, “I'm not sure it's safe to set out with all that noise bottled up inside you. Why don't you come to my room, and let me make you shout with pleasure?”

        Eberbach felt his face burning, and could not help glancing at the desk clerk. He, however, gave no indication of having understood the Earl's English. So, in the same language, Eberbach yelled, “Pervert!” Then, in normal tones, “There. Are you satisfied?”

        Eroica laughed. “Hardly. You see? We are like the sun and the moon in that way, too: I try to warm you up, but my efforts always prove futile.”

        Eberbach tromped up the stairs, slammed into his room, and spent the next hour exercising off the irritation the Earl of Gloria always aroused in him. Only when he went to shower — in a little cubicle at the end of the hall — did he find something to smile about. There was no hot water. The Earl, too, would have to do what the Major did to ward off frustration: take a cold shower!

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