With a dark look backward, Kardann slipped away, stiffening and nodding as Cordell called after him. "Send in Captain Daggrande."
The dwarf clumped in and raised his hand in salute. "Town's quiet, General."
"And that chief, Caxal?" asked the commander.
"He's waiting outside."
"Very well. When my lady Darien emerges, we shall summon him. Remain until then, Captain."
In moments, the elfmaiden came from the private apartments across the wide courtyard to join them in the large, open room that served well as a central meeting hall. As always during daylight, the albino's body was swathed completely in her robe.
Two guards ushered Caxal through the door, and Cordell immediately began to speak, with Darien translating.
"You have done well with the gathering of gold. I am sure we will now have peace between our peoples. But there is one more thing you must do."
Caxal scowled but then quickly wiped his face clear of expression. Cordell continued. "All of those warriors who are chiefs, the 'Jaguars' and the 'Eagles,' must be brought to me. We have many here, detained when they brought the gold. But you must find the rest and send them to us. When they are all safely locked up, then your city will return to life as usual."
For a moment, Caxal stood taller. "My city will never return to life as usual," he growled. But then his shoulders sagged. "I do not know why you would lock up a man, unless he fears to escape the altar. Are you making sacrifices of them?"
"Of course not, by Helm!" Cordell's face flushed. "That barbaric practice is forevermore outlawed! Here, in Ulatos, and wherever else I take my legion!
"The warriors will be placed in a room and kept there until we ascertain that Ulatos will give us no further trouble. They must report to me by sunset today."
"But they will surely die!" protested Caxal. "They are not the kind of men who can live caged in a room. You will surely kill them!"
"That's a risk I'm willing to take," barked Cordell. "This interview is concluded."
Caxal bowed, shaking with emotion. He held his eyes downcast as he backed toward the door.
"Wait!" Cordell stopped him. "There is another thing. I wish to learn more of this place you talked of, this 'Nexal.' Bring me some of your people who have visited there or lived there. I'm sure you know of such people."
"As you wish." Caxal nodded again and hurriedly slipped out the door.
"Do the men have comfortable quarters?" Cordell asked, turning to Daggrande.
"Indeed, General. Splendid. Food is plentiful. The Payit have no ales nor spirits," admitted the dwarf wistfully. "This 'octat they drink has a most pungent aroma and curious taste. But the men have made the most of it."
"We will remain here for two days. We'll let the men enjoy themselves a bit, find some women, that sort of thing. Go easy on them if they get a little out of control. One other thing, though, Captain. Any legionnaire caught hoarding gold is to be thrown in irons and displayed in the plaza as a lesson to his fellows. See that the word is passed.
"Then, Captain, I have a task that will require your special abilities." Daggrande looked at his general quizzically, and Cordell smiled slightly as he explained. "I wish to build a fort beside the anchorage where the fleet stands. You will be in charge of the construction, rotating half of the legion on work detail while the others stand to arms."
Daggrande nodded in quick comprehension. "Good choice, sir. That rocky hill just back from the shore?"
"Exactly. But we'll need a jetty, too. Later, perhaps, a breakwater, but for now, we'll start with a breastwork and a place to dock a carrack. Now, enjoy some time before I put you to work."
The dwarf nodded and clumped away. Captain Alvarro stepped in as his comrade departed.
"Ah, Captain," began the commander. "I will tell you why I have summoned you. We have been accepted rather prettily here, but I believe one more gesture is necessary to ensure the lasting obedience of the Payit."
"Yes, General? What do you suggest?"
"I want you to observe these warriors we have in captivity. Find four or five that show some spirit, that seem like leaders. Bring them to me, in the plaza before this house, this evening hence." The captain-general smiled grimly at his lieutenant, his eyes glittering like black sapphires.
"We will make sure that the warriors of Ulatos remember that they have been conquered by the Golden Legion."
From the chronicle of Coton:
As darkness gathers around the shores of Nexal.
Zaltec holds all of Maztica in thrall. Qotal tantalizes us with the promise of his return, with the sign of the couatl, with the visions to the Eagle Knight, but he gives no sign of arrival. And now an Ancient One is abroad in the land.
He follows his pack of hounds — black, fiery beasts from the netherworld, the world of Zaltec and the Darkfyre — and he seeks to kill the future before it can begin. For thus can Zaltec's triumph be assured.
But now the Ancient One moves with fear as well, for the pieces of the future are falling into place. He must slay her, and he must keep his nature a secret. Even the Ancient Ones, it seems, fear the might of the strangers.
The girl is still a child of pluma and, too, she is the beneficiary of unpredicted aid. The white man accompanies her not as conqueror but as companion. Together they challenge the darkness, but that darkness is vast, and they are very small indeed.
HELMSPORT
"What happened to you?" gasped Erix, leaning back to stare at the towering figure of Halloran.
"The potion… one of the small bottles! It must have been a potion of growth!" Erix clapped her hands over her ears, and Hal looked around self-consciously, imagining the echoes of his deep voice rumbling through the narrow, stonewalled gorge. He squatted in the grotto, noting that the light spell had vanished sometime during the fight.
"And that… thing that attacked you… I couldn't see it! What was that?" Erix stepped closer to Halloran, hesitantly reaching upward and touching his knee as if to ascertain that he really stood before her. Even squatting, he still loomed over her, but at least their faces were closer. He made an effort to speak quietly.
"I don't know. I've heard about such things… invisible stalkers and servants that wizards can summon. I think it was one of those… that it somehow tracked us here."
Erix frowned in concentration. "Listen… the howling. It's gone!"
They both remained still for a few moments, listening. Hal noticed that the sky was growing light from the approaching dawn. "I don't think this invisible fellow had anything to do with the howling," he ventured. "It's quiet now, sure, but that doesn't mean whatever it is has given up the trail."
"Do you think others know where we are? If the stalker can find us, maybe its master can, too!"
"Or mistress…" said Hal, thinking of the wizard Darien. He knew she would never forgive him for the theft of her spellbook, and he suspected she would be relentless in her pursuit of vengeance. By the same token, that loss might limit her powers enough to make pursuit difficult.
"You've got a good point," he said. "I think we'd better get out of here right away." Rosy light now colored half the sky, but the jungle remained still. The low rumble of surf, on the beach beyond the grotto, was the only sound.
Suddenly Halloran doubled over, his giant form toppling like a felled tree. He dropped to his hands and knees, retching uncontrollably. For a second, he suffered a terrifying sensation of falling as the world spun madly around him. His body twisted, racked by convulsions, and he sensed the grass slipping from his hands as he moved involuntarily.
Finally a sense of normalcy returned. He remained kneeling, supported by his hands, and slowly caught his breath. He no longer felt nauseous. Most importantly, his size was once again that of a human, not a giant.
Erix helped him to his feet. "Are you hurt?" she asked. "You looked like you were in terrible pain."
He nodded, suppressing a groan. "I was, for a minute there. I'm glad that's over."
Erix shook her head slowly. "I don't like it, this magic that changes you so. I think we should pour the other potions out!"
"That one surely proved useful! Who knows how helpful the invisibility potion might be, or that other one? I should find out what it is."
He reached into the saddlebag and pulled out the other small bottle. Like the invisibility and growth potions, it was marked by an indistinguishable label. He popped the cork out and raised it.
"Wait," said Erix, her voice quiet but urgent. "It's so soon since the effects of the other. At least wait awhile before trying it."
He was about to ignore her caution, but something in the strain of her voice told him she was really concerned. "All right," he said and put the bottle away.
"These are the warriors who have been causing the difficulties?" demanded Cordell.
Four men had been dragged to him in chains. Now they waited on their knees before the captain-general in the plaza of Ulatos. They were filthy, wearing only torn breech-clouts. It was hard to believe that they had once been Eagle and Jaguar Knights.
"These are the ones," grunted Alvarro, cuffing one man who dared to raise his head at Cordell's voice.
The horseman knew what his commander had in mind, and the whole charade was a game he found quite entertaining. The men were not troublemakers. Their only offense had been to glare at him instead of casting their eyes down like the other prisoners. The Payit warriors generally became morose and apathetic under captivity. It was as much spirit as any of the captives had shown, but that was all the excuse Alvarro needed.
"Valez, are you ready?" Cordell asked.
"Yes, my general!" Valez, the legion's master smith, nodded. He knelt before a hot pile of coals and quickly pulled forth a long iron. Its tip was the image of the staring eye of Helm, and now it glowed cherry red.
The group stood on the raised platform in the plaza, with Darien and a strong contingent of guards. Many natives had gathered in the great square around them to witness the sorcery of the white men. Darien stood with Cordell, ready to translate when the time was right.
The first prisoner did not know what was happening. Two legionnaires threw him roughly to the ground and knelt on him, pressing his head sideways against the stones. Valez moved quickly, pressing the red-hot iron to the man's cheek.
The knight's flesh sizzled sickeningly, and a cloud of smoke hissed into the air. He screamed, but the legionnaires held firm. In a second, Valez pulled the iron away, and the knight rolled across the hard clay surface of the plaza. He sobbed uncontrollably, and though the legionnaires did not know it, his tears were tears of shame, not pain.
In short order, the other three knights were similarly overpowered and branded, though each struggled frantically against the debasement. But in the end, each of the four wore the glaring eye, branded forever onto their faces.
"The hand of Helm is everywhere," pronounced Bishou Domincus solemnly. Domincus glared at the branded men as if their very presence was an affront to his god.
"Indeed." Cordell nodded. He was worried about the cleric. Since the death of his daughter, the Bishou had become obsessed with the notion of Helm's vengeance against transgressors. And his mind, clouded by hatred, saw all Mazticans as transgressors.
However, such vehemence had in fact proved useful in the subjugation of Ulatos. So vigorously had the Bishou preached his tale of Helm's might, so vivid was the proof of his superiority in the form of the recent battle, that the Payit seemed to have no difficulty accepting Helm as a superior god. Domincus told them that Helm had personally vanquished the pagan gods. Now the Mazticans turned out daily to hear the Bishou harangue them in a language they could not understand. They recognized the glaring eye in Helm's banner, however, and began to treat it with the respect due a mighty god by prostrating themselves when the flag was raised or lowered.
"Let this be a final reminder of our mastery and the punishments meted to our enemies!" proclaimed Cordell for Darien to translate. The elf woman, robed and masked as always when she ventured into the light of the sun, looked with satisfaction at the prisoners.
She was impressed once again with the general's wisdom. The legion could not afford to keep a large garrison in Ulatos. Yet the city must know, and always remember, that it had been conquered. Even when no legionnaires were in sight, the citizens of the city would look at these four warriors and they would remember.
"Now, to the palace," spoke the captain-general, turning and marching quickly back to his residence. Darien and the Bishou accompanied him through the courtyard, where he found Daggrande and Kardann awaiting him.
"The headman, Caxal, is here, General," explained the dwarf.
"Did he bring anyone with him?"
"Yes, sir. He's brought several of his fellows to tell you about that city, Nexal." The dwarf gestured toward the inner courtyard of the building that had once been Caxal's house.
Cordell quickly strode through the vine-fringed archway. He found Caxal seated on a stone bench, with six men resting on the ground beside him. The captain-general paused long enough to allow Darien to catch up and take position beside him. Meanwhile, the Payits all flung themselves on the earth and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
The rest of Cordell's captains, Garrant and the commanders of the longbows and spearmen, joined them here. Kardann, too, hurried to catch up, wheezing for breath but quickly readying his quill and scroll as Cordell spoke.
"I want you to tell me anything you know about the land of Nexal, both the people and the city itself. I will not harm you. I will reward those who share their knowledge with me. Now, speak."
Cordell paced back and forth beside a flower-studded lily pond, dictating his words for Darien to translate. The men remained kneeling on the grass before the captain-general.
"You." He addressed a tall man who wore a humble white mantle. "Have you been there?"
"Indeed, Most Commanding Lord. The city of Nexal is the greatest city in all the True World. Beside it, Ulatos is nothing more than a squalid collection of hovels."
"And gold?" prodded Cordell. "Do the Nexalans have gold?"
"Oh, yes, Most Magnificent Conqueror! The most humble of lords wears plates upon his chest, ear and lip plugs of solid gold. They collect gold in tribute from all the tribes they have conquered.
"The marketplace of Nexal is like no other place in the world, Supreme One! The markets alone cover a plaza the size of this entire city. There will Your Magnificence find more gold, feathers and turquoise, pearls and jade, all manners of treasures, sorcerous things, objects of feathermagic and talonmagic.
"There, too, are the great treasuries! Naltecona's alone, concealed somewhere in his palace, holds more valuables than our entire humble city. And each of his counselors has built a palace, and each has such a storeroom, never opened in the long history of Nexal!"
"How do you know of all this, man?" The captain-general grew suspicious at the extent of the man's enthusiasm, but the native hastily and abjectly explained.
"I have traded with the Nexalan merchants, the potec, who travel all Maztica. They sometimes come to Payit, especially for cocoa and plumage that cannot be found in less verdant lands. They talk freely of their city, and they tell how they must pay taxes to Naltecona for his treasure room, just as their fathers were taxed by Naltecona's father.
"Once I journeyed to Nexal with a band of potec, and lived a year in that grand city. I spent long days in the marketplace, bartering and learning their ways."
"What of their army?"
"The warriors of Nexala are more numerous than the grains of sand on the shore," answered the trader. "They have prevailed over all their foes, conquering all of their neighboring nations save one. That one, Kultaka, has fighters who are as fierce, if not as numerous, as the Nexalans."
"This city, Nexal… is it walled?"
"It is protected by lakes on all sides, O Hallowed Warrior. You must cross long causeways to reach the city, and each of these has many wooden sections tha
t can be removed. It is a city of canals and plazas and avenues. There are no walls surrounding it."
Gradually the others confirmed or embellished upon the trader's story. Most of the details referred to colorful murals, grand temples, and bloody gods. None could accurately estimate the size of the Nexalan army, but by all accounts, it made the Payit force look like an understrength regiment by comparison.
Cordell also gained an approximate understanding of the city's location, thanks to a map of many colors, with surprisingly detailed terrain features, drawn by the trader. After the natives had been rewarded with glass beads and ushered out, the captain-general turned to his followers.
"Daggrande, how does the loading progress?"
"The gold was finally loaded this morning, General. A share to each ship."
"Splendid. We will remain here for one more day to allow the men some more opportunity to enjoy our fruits of victory!"
"May I ask," Kardann began hesitantly, "has the captain-general considered the suggestion that we return to Amn for reinforcements? With the treasure we have already gained, the council would be sure to fund a much larger fleet!" Several captains nodded and muttered assent to the suggestion.
"The legion moves west!" barked Cordell. "We have barely scratched the surface of the opportunities here. Don't you know that once we return home, every small-time wizard and copper-plate pirate on the Sword Coast will head for Maztica?"
"Surely the base you speak of will serve as ample protection of our claims! You can leave a force to hold the fortress until the fleet returns with more men!"
"I fear your understanding of tactics is not as great as your counting of numbers, my good assessor." The commander spoke gently, hoping to humiliate the accountant rather than browbeat him. Captain Daggrande grinned at the jibe, but Cordell was mildly alarmed to note that several other captains seemed to be taking Kardann all too seriously. "Were we to abandon this shore now," he pressed, "we would stand to lose all that we have gained so far. These people will only understand our mastery if we hold it before them, not just for a day or a week but for months, perhaps years!"
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