Ironhelm mt-1

by Douglas Niles

  "We must send to Amn for more forces!" persisted the assessor, "It would not mean abandonment of this base. We'd only need to send a few ships, enough to get the treasure safely back."

  "It's the sensible thing to do," grunted another captain. Daggrande didn't recognize him beneath the brim of his helm.

  "Perhaps we should all talk to the general…" suggested Garrant.

  "No!" hissed Kardann. "He fears too much for his own power. We would only scare him into doing something rash. Instead, I have another plan…"

  A sudden wind whirled off the bay, and Daggrande ducked backward, startled. The whispers of the warm breeze drowned out the whispers of treachery from below, but Daggrande had heard enough.

  It was time to find the captain-general.

  By day they stumbled until fatigue claimed them, collapsing into whatever minimal shelter the land might offer. They would steal a few hours of sleep in the afternoon, but then night fell, and soon the howling commenced again. Each night it drew closer, until it resounded through the forest, as if the pack were about to burst through the nearest line of trees. Still, after four nights of desperate flight, keeping always to unpopulated lands, barren wildernesses of jungle and swamp, they had yet to catch sight of their pursuers.

  Halloran thought many times about stopping and fighting the faceless pack, challenging them with Helmstooth. But something in the sinister noises from bestial throats convinced him that such a challenge would be folly.

  And, too, the thought of this woman facing a death as bloody and violent as Martine's was too terrifying for contemplation. The bitter image of the sacrifice still tortured Hal's memory. He felt certain that Erixitl's death would drive him mad.

  They progressed slowly through the rough terrain, still encountering no sign of human habitation — at least, current human habitation. Many brush-covered mounds dotted the land, especially among the clearings. A close examination of several proved them to be overgrown pyramids, from a time long past. The land grew more open, still covered with jungle in patches but also offering areas of open meadow or grassland.

  Corporal proved his fine greyhound's instincts over and over as he darted into the brush or across a short stretch of prairie, often returning with a turkey, rabbit, and once even a monkey. With this limited supply of meat, and the many fruits offered by the jungle, they did not suffer from hunger.

  But still the driving, terrifying howling greeted them at night, driving them onward, always growing closer. They spoke little, sharing a pervasive sense of fear. Only in the mornings, after the howling had ceased for the day, would they sometimes pause for rest and quiet conversation.

  "Who was she?" asked Erix one morning.

  Halloran knew whom she meant, but he wasn't sure how to explain how he felt about Martine. He and Erix had just collapsed in a relatively open jungle clearing several hours after dawn. Since the pursuit grew closer every night in any event, they had decided that it didn't make sense to exhaust themselves during the day.

  "She was a headstrong girl. I was charged with her safety."

  "Was she your… wife? Your woman?" asked Erix lensely.

  Halloran looked at her in surprise. "No." Suddenly the memory of his infatuation with Martine seemed foolish and embarrassing. Her death would remain a shocking barbarity in his memory, but it was the death of an innocent victim, not the loss of a true love. He shook his head emphatically. "No. She was the daughter of our priest. He brought her along with the expedition."

  He remembered all the other ways he had once hoped to describe Martine, as his lady, his lover, even his wife. But all of those images now seemed ridiculous and absurd. The woman he desired was nothing like Martine. His woman was coolly intelligent, courageous, forgiving…

  She was Erixitl. Halloran looked at her, and this time he allowed himself to fall into those deep, dark eyes. He felt their warmth around him, and then he was holding her and nothing else seemed to matter.

  "You frighten me, Captain Halloran," she whispered to him as they lay together on the soft grasses. "But I am not afraid."

  Daggrande did not find Cordell until evening, when he saw the captain-general on the shore beside the jetly, admiring the project with Domincus and Darien. Torches lined the pier, reflecting in the clear water of the lagoon and illuminating the work that would proceed far into the night. The dwarf scowled in concentration as he remembered the treachery he had overheard upon the wall.

  "Splendid work on the harbor, Captain, simply splendid!" Cordell gestured at the T-shaped pier. "The earthworks are proceeding well, too. We were up there earlier."

  "Thank you, General." Daggrande, stoic figure that he was, nevertheless invariably thrilled to praise from his commander. He nodded politely. "Excuse me, sir. There's a matter I need to discuss wilh you."

  "Go on," urged Cordell.

  "It's… well, it's a matter of some confidentiality, General." Daggrande wasn't about to assume that any of the captain-general's lieutenants were definitely loyal.

  "These two have my utter confidence," said Cordell. "Speak!"

  "Aye, General." Daggrande cleared his throat. "I was on the wall today, inspecting the work. I overhead some scuttlebutt from the far side."

  "Indeed? Our good assessor, perhaps?"

  The dwarf nodded in surprise. "He talks treason, General! He seeks to recruit officers and men to steal away some of the ships and take them back to Amn — with the treasure!"

  Cordell showed no reaction, except that his coal-black eyes narrowed with tension. For a long moment, he remained immobile.

  "Well done, Captain. I didn't trust the little weasel, but neither did I suspect him to be this bold." The captain-general's voice was tight, clipped. "But with this warning, he can be stopped in his tracks. Indeed, that is the only solution."

  Slowly his face creased into an oily smile.

  The attack came at dusk, silently and swiftly from the darkening jungle. No howling preceded it. Only Corporal saw the hell hounds, as Hal and Erix still slept peacefully in the grass. The greyhound barked, the sound shrill and frantic with tension.

  Halloran sprang to his feet in time to see Corporal lunge toward the trees around their clearing. A great shape loomed there, half again as big as the greyhound. Hal saw red, glowing eyes and a tooth-studded maw spread wide.

  Corporal lunged toward the attacker, unmindful of the other hell hounds coming into sight behind it. Halloran saw the greyhound spring, while the wolflike predator before him simply crouched. The beast spread its jaws, revealing huge black teeth.

  As Corporal leaped for its throat, the monster belched a great cloud of flame. The greyhound twisted and yelped once, before fire wrapped the dog in a torturous, fatal shroud. Hot, billowing flames crackled from the hellhound's widespread maw, tearing the life from the loyal dog with its infernal heat.

  The greyhound toppled to the ground while Halloran sprang forward, shocked and enraged by the attack. Helmstooth cut through the air in a silver flash, and the hell hound's head flopped onto the ground.

  But then he looked up and saw more dark shapes charging through the darkness. They seemed to be all around him.

  From the chronicle of Colon:

  Silently obedient to the last, I yearn for a sign of hope or promise.

  Naltecona has decided to send the strangers presents, as a token of his welcome — and his fear. The decision he left to the gods has been made by men, and now he greets those men as gods.

  He has learned from his scouts and spies that the white men desire gold, so the Revered Counselor will send them gold to sate their appetites. He will also tell them of the great and grueling road to Nexal and inform them that they should not undertake such an arduous journey.

  His lords and priests have counseled against this course, universal in claiming that gifts of gold will not cure the strangers of their appetite for the yellow metal.

  But Naltecona is obstinate, and so the presents depart the city, a colorful caravan of slaves, litters of t
reasure, and ambassadors and spies of the Revered Counselor's court. They will bear the gifts to the strangers.

  Once these men have seen our gold, I fear we shall never keep them away.

  MEETING AND DEPARTURE

  Gultec finally gave up trying to leap over the high walls of the pit. After some hours, he heard men approaching. Several minutes later, they reached the mouth of the pit. Soon he glared upward, growling, into the faces of perhaps two dozen brown-skinned, loinclothed tribesmen. Before he could move, a tangle of heavy nets fell into the pit, blanketing him.

  He snarled and slashed and bit as several men dropped into the pit to complete the binding. The nets wrapped him tightly, and he was quickly hauled to the surface. He had the minor satisfaction of drawing blood from several of his captors, but now they dragged him unceremoniously along the ground, out of reach of any more victims.

  For perhaps an hour, he slid across the ground, bruised and battered from the rough surface. He couldn't see much through the many layers of net, but suddenly he realized that he was no longer surrounded by looming jungle.

  He growled and stumbled to his feet as several layers of nets were torn away. Blinking his yellow eyes, he looked at the most massive pyramid he had ever seen. Deep in the jungle, here in the heart of Far Payit, where only crude savages were supposed to live, someone had built this huge edifice!

  All around the great pyramid spread flat green fields of grass or clear blue ponds. He saw other buildings, also great, though not as huge as the pyramid, spread among patches of thick jungle growth. A wide field, surrounded by three high walls, lay next to the structure. In the field, Gultec saw several men dashing back and forth in pursuit of a round ball.

  His captors dragged the jaguar toward the pyramid. Instead of ascending it, as Gultec had expected, they threw the net into a black opening set into the base of the structure like an open doorway. Instantly Gultec twisted and thrashed, but it took him several minutes to tear free from the nets. By that time, a door had been closed behind him.

  Deep, rumbling growls reverberated through the jaguar's heavy chest. Gultec saw a passage leading toward the center of the pyramid, and he began to slink along this black corridor. He silenced his growls and crept forward noiselessly.

  The corridor continued ahead for some distance, though not to the center of the pyramid, Gultec guessed. Then it opened into a large room. He smelied jaguar spoor, and the fur on his back bristled.

  A second later, he saw the great cats sprawled about the room, some grooming themselves, some sleeping, some watching him with interest.

  And then he noticed the other inhabitant of the room. An old man sat on a stone step directly across the chamber from him. He wore only a loincloth, and his hair was long and white. Lines creased his face, making it look like the wrinkled map of some mountainous land. The fellow stared at Gultec, ignoring the other jaguars. Those felines apparently were equally indifferent to his presence.

  Gultec tensed. He crouched lower, his belly touching the floor. Slowly he began to slink forward.

  The old man raised his hand and passed it once before his face. At that instant, Gultec's body contorted. He pitched onto the floor, in seconds changing violently from feline to human form. Stunned, he lay on the floor, slowly realizing that this man had affected the change. Shocked and awed, Gultec sat up and regarded the man, who rose and slowly moved toward him.

  "Come, Gultec," he said softly. "You have so very much to learn."

  Poshtli tucked his wings and dove toward the pyramid, certain at once that this was the place shown to him by the vision. The sun disappeared behind the tree-lined horizon as he landed upon the summit of the brush-covered structure. Soon it would be time.

  For the first time in days, the Eagle Warrior stretched into his human body, reclining atop the mossy shell of the pyramid while he carefully massaged his muscles back to flexibility. He enjoyed the sight of a round moon, nearly full, climbing into the sky.

  When he felt more comfortable, he arose and looked at the pyramid, going to the east side of the platform at the summit. The sides were steep and fully overgrown with brush and mosses, so that a human could scramble his way up or down, but with some difficulty.

  The Eagle Knight cleared a small shelf just below the top, on the east face of the pyramid. There he carefully laid out the six arrows given to him by Luskag. The crude materials gleamed silvery bright in the moonlight. Then he laid his own quiver, with its two dozen arrows, beside the others.

  He found a comfortable sitting position and waited. His maca rested across his lap, and his bow was in his hands.

  A huge, rust-red hell hound — the coior of dried blood, thought Halloran — lunged past the charred body of the greyhound, Corporal. The monster's jaws opened wide as the legionnaire dove to the side, and he barely avoided the gout of flame that singed the brush behind him.

  He sprang to his feet and drove the hell hound back with a stab to its chest, his blow more painful than injurious to the beast.

  A horrifying sense of impotent rage possessed him as he saw three of the creatures charge toward Erix. The woman stood with her back to a tree, a stout stick in her hands. But the crude weapon could not even reach the hounds as they crouched before her, jaws gaping for their deadly blast.

  "No!" cried Hal, savagely chopping into another hound and springing over the dying beast in an effort to reach Erixitl. He knew he would never get there in time.

  The trio of hell hounds spat their scorching breath directly into the young woman's face. Hal screamed as he saw the yellow flames blossom, surrounding her with an incinerating wave of evil magic.

  The flames faded away, and he saw Erix again, standing in shock. The jade and feather token she wore at her neck now glowed and sparkled with a magical force of its own.

  Then Halloran reached the fray, dropping one hound with a stab to its heart. The other two turned on him, but Erix clubbed one with her stick, knocking it to the side. The other blasted Hal with a gout of flame just as his sword pierced the creature's chest and heart.

  Gasping, Halloran fell backward, his left arm blistered and charred. The hell hound fell dead, but more appeared from the darkness. He heard a panicked cry from Storm, and then the mare pulled free of her stake and galloped off into the night.

  "This way!" he panted, pulling Erixitl away from the tree. Another hell hound, and another, charged in close. This is the end, Hal thought grimly.

  Erix put her hand on his arm as the hell hounds breathed, and the fire crackled around them like a living thing, seeking their skins and their lives. But the power of pluma protected them, the aura of Erixitl's feathermagic token cloaking them like a soft shield.

  The dead branches of a fallen forest giant crackled into flame behind them, and Hal counted close to a dozen hell hounds closing in around them. The flames leaped higher, and Halloran saw a black figure behind the pack, a hooded but lightly dressed form with a bow and a longsword.

  "The Ancient One!" gasped Erix, as Halloran drove back the nearest hounds with a barrage of thrusts and slashes.

  "Come on!" he gasped, leading her away from the pack of dogs. One of the creatures, already wounded in the leg, sprang directly into his path. The hound tumbled to the ground as it landed, and Hal killed it with a straight thrust to the heart.

  Erix jumped after him, and they sprinted through a narrow belt of forest, dense brush and trees that separated the large clearings that dotted the area. The dogs crashed behind them through the jungle as they both fought for breath. Hal's arm burned, sending great sheets of pain shooting through his body, especially as the thorns and bark of the forest tore at him.

  In the moonlight, Halloran saw Storm across the next clearing. The horse galloped along the perimeter of jungle, seeking a path of flight. He also saw a small cone-shaped hill in the center of the open area.

  A hell hound burst from the edge of the jungle behind him, and Halloran split its skull open, even as Erix's hand on his shoulder protected them b
oth from the monster's flaming breath.

  Get the high ground, hold the high ground! The basic maxim of legion tactics came back to Halloran as hopelessness threatened to drag him down. Already he and Erix stumbled toward the center of the clearing, toward the low hill that loomed higher and higher as they ran. The nearly full moon, still low in the eastern sky, shed its impartial light across the scene.

  More dogs broke from the forest, streaking across the open ground toward the humans.

  Get the high ground!

  Halloran recognized the hill as an overgrown pyramid, like other ruins they had seen on their flight. At the same time, he realized they would never reach the structure before the hell hounds dragged them down.

  He turned to face the dogs, Erixitl beside him. The first of the slavering beasts leaped toward them, then suddenly crashed to the ground with a yelp of pain. It kicked once and lay still.

  Something flashed past them, a blur in the moonlight, and then another hell hound collapsed. This time, Halloran saw the arrow, sparkling like a crystal shaft, protruding from the beast's neck. Still a third dog dropped, and renewed hope arose in Hal's heart. He wasted no time wondering about the nature of their miraculous deliverance.

  "Run!" he shouted, propelling Erix toward the pyramid and stumbling after her. They threw themselves against the first tier of the structure and clawed madly upward through the brush. Ignoring the pain in his blistered arm, Halloran pulled himself upward by his feet and his right hand.

  Finally they stopped, grasping the undergrowth to keep from slipping down the steep side. Halloran looked over his shoulder and counted six hell hounds dead in the clearing. A few more probed tentatively around the base of the pyramid, but he doubted whether the creatures could reach them now.

  "Come on," urged Halloran. "Let's get up to the top."

  "Look!" whispered Erix in horror. He turned and followed her gaze, instantly spotting the black-clothed figure stepping into the moonlit area of the clearing below. The figure crossed toward the pyramid below. As it did, they saw several arrows dart from above them toward the advancing form, but each sizzled to ashes before it could strike the Ancient One.