FIERCE: A Heroic Fantasy Adventure (BRUTAL TRILOGY Book 2)

by James Alderdice

  Tazcara froze, her face twisted in confusion. “What are they to you? Just the dregs of the slave pits. They are not your kinsmen. No one here is. My offer is for you alone,” she said imperiously. “Take it or leave it.” She caressed her own body lasciviously. “Am I not beautiful? Am I not desirable? Do you not wish to take me here and now?”

  “I don’t abandon friends.”

  “Friends? Those dogs?” she snorted. “Perhaps you are the strongest man I have ever met, but you certainly are not the wisest. A smart man would have already taken me to the bench.” Her ebony eyes shifted to the wide bench as if that, too, asked for the union.

  He folded his corded arms across his chest. “Then we have no deal.”

  “You are mad! A queen offers herself to you and you give demands? Do you not want this?” She dropped the skirt and feathered boa. “My offer is ready now. Take me and I will see that you are freed and spirited away to the coast. Take me.” She laid herself down on the stone bench and gazed longingly. Her tongue darted from her red lips like a serpent’s and waggled at him. “Now!” she ordered.

  “I won’t sell out my friends for anything.”

  “Now!” she screeched.

  He shook his head. “I’ve had better.” He dove into the pool whose waters had now cooled so that he should not betray himself to her. For she was incredibly tempting despite being a lying witch.

  “I will have you flayed for this insult!” Tazcara screamed as she gathered up her clothing and dressed. “May the Coatl devour you slowly!” she cried as she vanished through the door.

  Within moments, one of the hand maidens appeared with a cotton kilt, thick sturdy sandals of fine make, and his own wide leather belt. She looked upon Gathelaus with tear-filled eyes. “You have chosen wisely, lord.”

  “Eh? You heard all of that?”

  “We did.” She nodded, watching the door to be sure Tazcara did not return. She whispered, “The queen consorts with many men herein and always tells them the same story so they might excuse themselves and lay with her. Her appetite is insatiable. But she takes the Xocomilico root afterward and bares no children. She does these things for her own lusts and always, the men are slain soon thereafter.”

  “Please” plead another, “do not reveal we have told you these things.”

  Gathelaus grinned. “Your secret is safe with me, sisters.”

  “I am sorry to see you go, you have been kind to us and that is a rare thing here.”

  “See me go?”

  The woman nodded sadly, no longer looking him in the eye. “I have seen the Coatl they procured for this. It is the largest I have ever seen. I will pray to the Nine to accept your soul to their bosom.”

  Gathelaus finished getting dressed and snorted. “Well, no one was ever damned for believing too much, but I’ll trust to my sword arm more than these bloodthirsty gods of yours.”

  Coils of the Serpent

  The next day they led Gathelaus to a cell full of prisoners. A dozen men waited inside, a number of them already wounded from fighting for the savage amusement of the crowd before he had even arrived. Also among them were his former teammates from the ball game. It seemed that whatever fate had befallen Tezomoc and himself was also for these men. Through the bars, Gathelaus had a commanding view of the fighting arena. Patches of dark blood stood out in stark contrast to the pale earth.

  “You’re the final attraction, eh?” asked a cellmate.

  Gathelaus grunted in the affirmative, still taking in all he could. The arena was oval and the stone seats surrounding it were large enough that Gathelaus guessed thousands could watch. The size of the ball courts and sacrificial arena of Chalco paled in comparison. This arena could rival any of the those he had seen throughout the known world, but this one was different from all others in its design. Great slabs of stone were fit together so tight a knife blade could not be squeezed between them, but that was not the unusual part. What was curious was their gargantuan size and shape. They were massive stone blocks. Some as large as the tiny hovels the peasants lived in outside the palace walls, but not one of them was the same. They were of curious shapes and angles made to fit together like a puzzle. Interlocking corners and slabs jutted into one another creating a truly bizarre style all its own. He counted one that had no less than twelve differing angles. The stones themselves remained rough and bulged out slightly from the edges but not nearly enough that Gathelaus could possibly gain purchase and climb into the watching crowd.

  A shaded royal box sat at one side of the great oval and within, King Itzcoatl, Queen Tazcara, and Cuauhtémoc sat on varying sized thrones. Maidens with great fans made of feathers wafted a breeze upon them to combat the blazing heat. A slew of guardsmen stood nearby with long spears and shields and Gathelaus guessed that he would be given no weapon here that might actually be used against those watching from that box.

  Horns dirged and he wondered at what made the curious bellow. Soon enough the mystery was revealed. Men marched forward through the far gate with instruments made from huge sea shells. Massive curling nautilus shells had been procured and were held on shoulders as musicians blew upon them like mighty trumps. Men bore skin drums held on suspenders and belts and beat a wild throb, wrapping the roaring crowd into their musical ecstasy.

  Following the musicians, a motley troupe of performers, dancers, jugglers and acrobats romped and preened before the crowd. Even odd, clown-like dwarves did their level best to liven the spectacle by beating each other with clubs and warring in exaggerated movements. They had red scarves they tossed and pulled from beneath their clothing in a faux display of bloodshed in their miniature war.

  Then came young maidens with long dark hair tossing rose petals. Lastly, a cart with a huge egg upon it was pushed and pulled by a score of slaves. The egg was almost as large as a full-grown hog. A snake-like coatl inside would indeed be massive, but no larger than the greatest of full-grown pythons.

  “What the devil is that?” asked Gathelaus of his cell partner. “I thought this was supposed to be a big monster I’m facing. Not a newborn.”

  “Its all part of the act,” said the gladiator. “That is not the coatl. This is just the gruesome appetizer for the crowd before the final meal.”

  These people were so curious to Gathelaus, he had been here for nearly two months, magically understood their every word and nuance of language and yet the cultural barrier remained as impenetrable as ever.

  Once the great egg was wheeled to a central location before the royal box, a huge man with a hammer came striding up. He wore unusually tall boots of thick leather that came up almost as high as his groin. He stood before the egg and watched for the signal from Cuauhtémoc. Once the sorcerer gave a flip of his hand, the hammer man slammed his stone implement into the egg which cracked and exploded open with a great sloshing of dark green waters. Scores of serpents slithered out, as if they had been in a nest for the winter like back in the mountains of Vjorn.

  There were all types of serpents of varying sizes, though none too larg.e The hammer man didn’t seem too distressed about getting out of their way despite a few of the poisonous serpents that Gathelaus recognized.

  “A sacrament of things to come!” called Cuauhtémoc. “Look and see!”

  The barrage of snakes wheeled within the arena as if not knowing where to go and what to do. The barred door cranked open not far from Gathelaus, and spear wielding guardsmen prodded a dozen other slaves out and toward the snakes. One man tried to run and get past the guards, but they struck him down across his brow and forced him dazedly back toward the slithering throng. Once the prisoners were closer to the snakes, the guards hastily retreated. The prisoners had no weapons, and as the serpents encircled them, some of the men tried to stomp the reptiles but were soon stricken by vicious bites. In a matter of minutes all of the prisoners fell dead.

  “Not particularly sporting or even that entertaining to watch,” said Gathelaus.

  “Wait,” advised his cell mate, “and
behold true horror.”

  Within moments, one of the dead men’s legs twitched. At first Gathelaus thought it was but another snake slithering over the top of the corpse, but soon it was apparent that all the bodies were twitching. There was more jerking and moving. Something unholy animated the corpses. One by one they sat up and got to their feet. They looked like men possessed. Their glossy white eyes stared dead and blank as they gaped at the watching crowd. Long lines of spittle slathered from their open mouths and some pawed at the cyclopean walls in a futile attempt to attack and feed upon the onlookers who laughed to mask their own fear of this unholy union.

  Then the ensorcelled prisoners turned upon each other and even Gathelaus was taken aback at the pure savagery of the zombies and their riotous hunger. Some bit others while simultaneously their own limbs were being feasted upon. A few tried to fight back, but the insatiable need to eat drove them into maddened frenzy until at the last there was but a pair of crawling corpses that entwined themselves ouroboros-like as they fed.

  “Ghastly,” said Gathelaus. “I’ve seen much bloodshed in my years, but this is evil, wanton cruelty. What makes the snake bite do such a thing?”

  “I’ve heard tell,” said his cell-mate, “that it is a concoction that the Nagual sorcerer brews special at his home city of Ixmal. His men gather all manner of serpents, then put them into the egg of a coatl as you see there, and he seals it back up with his foul potions. I have no idea how he accomplishes such a thing. Even if the snakes are not poisonous, they will be after the spell. But look,” he said, pointing at the floor of the arena.

  The snakes had stopped their movements and were still.

  “They too die from the enchantment.”

  Gathelaus asked, “Will they reanimate?”

  “No, they are dead,” said his cell mate. “But your own challenge approaches.”

  “How can you tell?”

  The fellow prisoner sniffed. “I can smell it.”

  Gathelaus heard the cranking of wheeled gears opening a trap door set in the arena’s floor. The crowd gasped despite there being naught but a gaping black hole in the ground.

  “You liar,” said Gathelaus. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “Well then, I have a vivid imagination,” said the cell-mate.

  “You there! Foreign devil!” barked a guard. “It’s your turn!”

  A pair of the guardsmen entered the cell from the rear and prodded Gathelaus forward. A third guardsman opened the gate to the arena and chuckled. “You will know torment in the belly of the beast.”

  Gathelaus paused and looked down.

  The guards shouted, “Hurry up.” And “Meet your doom.”

  Gathelaus wheeled and slammed the guard’s arm in the bars of the door, while taking hold of one of the spears and slamming the butt end at the other guard’s mouth.

  The guard with the broken arm screamed but managed to push back on the door, throwing Gathelaus’s balance off. The disarmed guard charged and slammed the door shut, though Gathelaus speared him in the gut for his troubles, but the damage was done. Gathelaus was locked in the arena.

  The roar of the crowd echoed off the stones. Though they could not have seen the full of the attempt, they knew Gathelaus had tried something and was now armed with a spear. He wasn’t supposed to have such a weapon that could potentially be thrown at them or their king.

  Itzcoatl sat stone-faced, watching his prisoner. Tazcara sneered, standing halfway behind Itzcoatl’s throne.

  Some shouted for the mass of readied archers near the king to take him down. Cuauhtémoc spoke, “Let the mouse think that it has teeth, for though they are sharp, they are nothing compared to that of the rattlesnake.”

  This brought a cheer and shout of derision from many in the stands, and while Gathelaus had to admit that the obsidian spear was a poor weapon against a gigantic monster, it was better than nothing. He had made do with many weapons over the years and he had killed many men with less.

  “Where is your monster, sorcerer? Face me yourself, if you dare!” shouted Gathelaus.

  Cuauhtémoc clapped his hands in a mocking salute. The sorcerer’s biting sarcasm put a hush over the crowd. “You do not face a monster, barbarian but a very god. Look and see!” His long bony finger pointed at the darkened pit.

  A loud hissing echoed from somewhere in that dark abyss, followed by a weird flutter of feathered wings and the rasp of reptilian scales sliding over rough stone.

  Gathelaus couldn’t imagine that they would have a flying monster in the arena. Unless such a beast was trained? It couldn’t be, could it?

  He saw the rhythmic swaying of the eyes first. Wide, unblinking pits that trapped yellow light in the dark like the fires of hell. It slithered closer. A wide wedge-shaped head of green scales larger than a horse’s was augmented with what could only be described as a mane of red-tinged feathers. Some unseen appendage sent the wing-like adornments on the side of its head fluttering as if the monstrous titan of a serpent was excited at the prospect of devouring the prey which stood before it. A triple-forked tongue slipped out, testing the air.

  Gathelaus could not miss the fangs which jutted out from the snake’s mouth, long needle-sharp and curved like scimitars. It was a stout creature for a snake. The tip of the tail ended with another flurry of red feathers and he wondered if there might be a poisonous barb concealed there.

  The coatl seemed aware of the hushed crowd as it swept its head side to side but focused its attention on Gathelaus. Drawing its full bulk from the dark of the pit from whence it came, it raised its head up to a striking position from at least twelve feet high.

  Gathelaus raised his spear and stalked backward slowly to ready his defenses. The small flat cart and broken egg were still there as was the mess of dead snakes and half eaten zombies. There would be no weapon here to fight the coatl.

  A clawed hand gripped Gathelaus’s ankle. Just before the half-devoured torso of a zombie could sink its teeth into his flesh, Gathelaus swept the spear and decapitated the half-eaten living corpse.

  The coatl snapped forward. The crowd cheered. Gathelaus narrowly dodged aside and sent his spear skittering across a length of the coatl’s neck. The obsidian tip raked along those wide green scales but did not penetrate any further.

  Why did giant reptiles always have to be impervious?

  Racing around to the other side of the cart, Gathelaus glanced at the remains of the huge egg that had housed the ensorcelled snakes. He narrowed his eyes at a fetid pool of the greenish liquid that remained in the bottom of the broken eggshell.

  He dipped the spear head in the foul waters and readied himself for the next time the coatl came near.

  It drew back to strike and just as the monster’s open mouth and gleaming fangs, descended upon him, he jammed the dipped spearhead into its maw.

  The coatl took the spear from his grasp and broke the shaft with a snap of its jaws.

  Gathelaus, sure that the dipped spearhead had bit into the flesh of its mouth, prayed to the gods of the north that it would do the trick.

  The coatl paused in its pursuit of him to try and dislodge the missile from the roof of its mouth.

  Cuauhtémoc laughed. “Valiant effort, Northman. You have lasted longer than most who have ever spent time with the coatl.”

  “Why is that funny?” Gathelaus asked, while still scanning for another weapon.

  “Because the coatl is immune to such poisons. Why else do you think I use its egg for such a potion?”

  Sure enough the coatl did not appear affected in the least by the poison spear head, merely annoyed that it was lodged behind its teeth. While the big serpent concentrated on the barb within its mouth, Gathelaus had an idea. There was no weapon he could use, nor any other way to avoid the monstrous being once it was free of its distraction.

  He raced around behind it and ran up its back until he could launch himself at its head.

  The crowd gasped in disbelief. Cuauhtémoc swore, and king Itzcoatl sto
od in shocked amazement.

  His fingers caught the feathered frill right behind its skull. He gripped the wing like protrusions, wrapped his legs about the throat of the monster, and held on for dear life.

  The coatl twisted about but could not reach Gathelaus for a bite. And still, the man held on and squeezed.

  The monstrous titan rolled over in the dust of the arena, and still, Gathelaus held on. The great beast trembled beneath his crushing grip, working its muscles to try to slip a breath through its strangled throat.

  The crowd roared in deafening glee. A chant of “Kukulacan! Kukulacan! Kukulacan!” reverberated throughout the arena.

  Furious spittle flew from his mouth as Itzcoatl cried, “Slay them! Slay them both!”

  His guardsmen eyes wide as the took in the spectacle, nocked arrow to bow and loosed. The chaotic gyrations of the coatl to free itself of the strangling man, made most of their arrows miss the mark but the few that did connect hit the scaled body and did not penetrate.

  Gathelaus wrenched his grip upon the feathers and choked the coatl with all the strength he could muster. The cords of muscle on his arms stood out and his veins bulged at the supreme effort as sweat splashed from his body. His mind and eyes beheld stars whirling overhead in the noonday sun.

  The coatl splayed on the ground with Gathelaus beneath it, shielding him from the arrows of the king. The feathered end of the tail swept back and forth in stricken madness and the handful of the king’s guardsmen that had charged out into the arena with their obsidian-lined paddles and spears were knocked off their feet and killed or terribly broken by the monstrous thrashings. And still, Gathelaus held on.

  ****

  The crowd cheered on for Kukulacan and rapidly began to denounce the king’s actions.

  Cuauhtémoc said, “My lord, the mood of the crowd turns from us. They will riot if you do not call off this transgression in the arena.”

  Itzcoatl wheeled on his sorcerer, “Can you not see? This is no man but a god! He slays the great coatl!”