Viperhand mt-2

by Douglas Niles

  "We greet you with open hands," said Naltecona guilelessly. "But I must ask that your allies — our ancient enemies, the Kultakans — remain encamped on the shore of the lake and do not cross to our island."

  "They will accompany us to the city," said Cordell, leveling his black eyes on the Revered Counselor.

  "But there is insufficient room in the city," continued the Maztican lord. "And it will be difficult to persuade my people to — "

  "They can sleep in the streets if they have to," interrupted the commander, "but the Kultakans enter the city with us."

  "Very well." Naltecona dipped his head slightly in involuntary aquiescence.

  In another minute, the Golden Legion started across the causeway. Silent, staring crowds of Mazticans stood along the path but gave them plenty of room. Canoes filled the lakes to either side of the roadway. Ahead of the legion loomed the fabulous, exotic city of Nexal, the Heart of the True World.

  From the chronicles of Colon:

  Before a tangled array of godhood, man awaits his fate.

  The followers of Helm enter Nexal, and with them comes their powerful god. Zaltec seethes in resentment, and between the two immortal beings are sown the seeds of terror and confusion.

  I feel the presence of the strangers all through the city. Their great beasts have been tethered beyond my temple door. Their stench is everywhere, and their hunger for gold is a palpable thing, a kind of hunger I have never felt before.

  But even as the strangers hunger for gold, so does the cult of the Viperhand hunger for war. They have been restrained by the will of Naltecona, though this is a tenuous bond.

  It will require but little pressure for the invaders to snap them free.

  A MARRIAGE IN THE SIGHT OF QOTAL

  "This was the palace of my father, Axalt," explained Naltecona, ushering Cordell and Darien through a huge doorway into a long, airy corridor. Poshtli followed, uncomfortable and uncertain in his new role as adviser to the counselor. The colorful finery of court hung awkwardly on his shoulders, and he wished for the simple comfort of his Eagle cloak.

  But that, of course, he could never wear again.

  Naltecona continued. "Now it would honor me if you would make it your home."

  The palace, nearly as grand as Naltecona's own, was another of the great buildings in the sacred plaza. The Kultakan and Payit ranks of Cordell's army made camp in the plaza, watched by tense, nervous Nexalan warriors. The legionnaires, however, would occupy this huge edifice.

  "You show us a grand welcome," observed Cordell, through Darien as usual. The elfwoman now wore a scarlet silken tunic instead of her robe. The white skin of her legs and arms stood in stark contrast to the material, and a ruby-encrusted hairpin gave a burst of color to her long white hair. She was very beautiful, in an icy and aloof way, thought Poshtli.

  "I must disbelieve the tales I have heard — lies, doubtlessly — that it was you who ordered the legion attacked in Palul." Cordell paused to gauge the Revered Counselor's answer.

  "Yes, lies," said Naltecona with a downward look. "The chiefs who would practice such treachery will certainly be punished!"

  "I believe that they already have been," noted Cordell dryly. "I only hope that their numbers do not grow again, for our reprisals must, at that instance, become truly harsh."

  "You have my word on it," replied the Revered Counselor of Nexal.

  "Very well." For a while, they talked pleasantries, as Cordell found himself expressing genuine astonishment and delight at the wonders of Axalt's palace. They walked through huge gardens with pleasant, meandering paths, fountains and pools, and brilliant-flowered plants and bushes.

  Huge rooms seemed to be nothing more than airy galleries, with splendid tapestries, featherpictures, and paintings on the walls. Other walls were lined with niches, and in these stood small statues of jade and obsidian.

  Finally they came to a chamber holding many objects of gold. As they entered, several full-size replicas of human heads, each heavier than a man could lift, stared from niches along the wall.

  "The likenesses of the Revered Counselors of Nexal," explained Naltecona. "It is a line that goes back through fifteen men, all of them members of my family."

  Poshtli watched Darien's and Cordell's eyes as they walked along the gold-lined wall. The elfwoman's were cold, unaffected by the riches. But Cordell's dark eyes flashed, washing over the golden objects with a lust that the warrior could almost feel.

  "It is a grand tradition," said Cordell. "I want to assure you that we have no intention of bringing it to an end."

  Naltecona paused and looked at the captain-general after Darien translated this statement. The two men found each others' eyes inscrutable.

  "And now I must speak frankly," said Cordell. "I do so, knowing you will see and understand."

  As he spoke, he raised his arms and stepped forward, blocking Darien. As soon as she translated his words, she added a quiet phrase of her own, an enchantment, as she cast the spell upon Cordell himself.

  Naltecona gasped and stepped backward, awestruck as the captain-general began to grow. Poshtli reached reflexively for his maca, forgetting that he was unarmed. He stared in awe, unaware of Darien's spell. Cordell's body and his clothing and sword, began to increase in size until he quickly attained a height of some twelve feet. His head almost touching the inside of the thatched roof, the commander planted his fists on his hips and stared down at Naltecona.

  The Revered Counselor took another backward step, but then stood firm, fighting an almost overwhelming compulsion to flee.

  "You are a great man, Naltecona of Nexal." said Cordell, his voice a deep rumble. "But so, you must understand, am I. Let this little demonstration convince you of that."

  "Indeed, so it does," whispered the Maztican. As Naltecona and Poshtli stared at Cordell, Darien slipped off to the side. She quickly and silently cast a spell upon the section of wall between two of the golden busts. This time, however, Poshtli observed the gesture. When Cordell spoke again, Darien picked up the translation smoothly, while Poshtli stared at the wall and wondered.

  "Know, too, that any treacheries planned against us will be found out! We will learn of such acts through ways you cannot possibly imagine." Cordell turned, addressing the section of wall Darien had worked her magic on moments earlier. "Is this not so?"

  The surface of the wall distorted and stretched for a moment, then revealed the clear outline of a giant human mouth. The lips and teeth and tongue were pale, like the wall, but their shape was unmistakable.

  Then the mouth spoke. "Indeed, Master, it is so."

  Naltecona shook his head in shock while Poshtli narrowed his eyes. Sorcery or not, the warrior knew that surprise would be difficult to attain if his enemy could gain information from the very walls themselves. When he turned back to face the looming commander, the Revered Counselor was in no mood to offer, or order, resistance. "We shall be true to our obligations as your hosts," he pledged.

  "Excellent!" A whispered word from Darien, unheard by Naltecona, brought Cordell quickly back to his normal size. Poshtli saw this command as well. "And your hospitality, my lord, is most overwhelming. Such quarters as these surpass our wildest expectations. In truth, we are your humble guests."

  A conch-shell horn sounded in the distance, announcing the start of the evening's sacrificial procession.

  "You must excuse me," said Naltecona, with a deep bow. "My presence is required at the evening services."

  "For the murder of helpless captives?" barked Cordell, knowing all too well the nature of these rituals. "Suppose a greater force compelled you to order that these pagan rites cease?"

  Naltecona looked at him with a hint of regret in his eyes. "Should I give such an order, my people would fear that the sun would fail to rise in the morning. My influence over them would cease at that time, for they would know that I was mad.

  "It would mean that a new Revered Counselor would take my throne. The rites, of course, would continue."<
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  For a moment longer, Cordell glared at the Revered Counselor, tempted to challenge him on the issue. Something in the Maztican's level gaze convinced him that Naltecona spoke the truth, however. And the practice of sacrifice was far from their most pressing concern, he reminded himself, with a look at the gleaming wall of gold.

  "Make yourselves comfortable here. Of course, slaves have been appointed for your use. There will be sufficient room for your men, I trust?"

  "Yes, plenty. The Kultakans and Payit will camp outside the palace in that big square," Cordell said breezily.

  "I need tell you again that the presence of our enemies among us, camping in the sacred heart of our city, is an affront to all Nexal. The people resent them and will quickly grow restless with restraint." Naltecona repeated the arguments he had made when Cordell's allies had first entered the city.

  "We'll keep our eyes on the situation," promised the general. "But for now, they stay."

  "As you command," replied the lord and master of Nexal.

  Halloran recovered swiftly after his fever broke, though his wound remained a painful reminder of the battle. Still weak, he slept much. He also enjoyed the hot mayzcakes, beans, and fruits that Erixitl brought to him in a steady stream, at least while he remained awake.

  Most of his sustenance came from the beans and mayz, though she prepared these with a variety of spices that made each meal a new and exciting experience. He even found himself enjoying the hot burn of the sharp peppers with which she laced his food. And the thin, spiced chocolate she gave him to drink was a rare treat.

  They spoke little of the past, or the future. For a while, it seemed enough that they could be together. Indeed, it would be days before Hal's wound healed enough to allow them to think about much else. Although he could rest with little pain, the puncture became very sore when he moved around.

  If his waking hours passed pleasantly enough, the same was not so with his sleep. He had vivid, terrifying dreams of the massacre and sometimes awoke tense with fear over Erix's safety. But these concerns he kept to himself.

  One dark night he awakened after such a dream, sweating from an image of Erix run down by a charging line of lancers, led by Halloran himself. Hal lay still, staring at the thatched roof of the house, and gradually his terror passed.

  Erixitl, he saw, was not in the house. He rose, noticing with mild pleasure that his wound was giving him less pain with each passing day.

  "I couldn't sleep," he said, emerging from the house to find Erixitl in the yard. The moon was a half-circle in the east, rising high in the clear, star-speckled sky. A few hours remained before dawn.

  The woman sat on the ground, her legs crossed, leaning back on her hands with her eyes skyward. "It's so beautiful up there," she said. "So crisp and clear."

  Halloran settled beside her silently. He, too, looked at the night sky and saw its beauty.

  "There's the ridge," Erixitl said, lowering her eyes from the heavens slightly. The great shadow of the high slope loomed over them. "It was up there that I was captured and taken into slavery." She turned to look at him. "I haven't gone back up there since I've come home. It's silly, I guess, but I'm frightened."

  "You have good cause," offered Hal. He pictured Erix as a young girl, seized by a jaguar-skinned warrior who emerged from the bushes to take her and flee. "Anyone would want to forget." He thought of the battered town in the valley below, and of how much he wanted to forget that.

  She looked at him oddly. Suddenly she rose to her feet. Halloran followed her example, also following as she crossed the yard. When she started up the steep slope, he came after, on a narrow trail that they followed without difficulty in the moonlight.

  For some time, they climbed in silence. The house, the village, the valley bottom all dropped away behind them. Even the scent of smoke and ash and blood from ruined Palul dissipated with distance. The wind freshened up here, and it was comfortably cool against their skin. It washed around them and seemed to cleanse some of the horror away. Still, Halloran felt the lingering presence of death behind them.

  They reached the top and stopped. Erix pointed out the narrow draw where the Kultakan warrior had captured her. She explained that her father's bird snares had, at that time, extended all along the upper slopes of the ridge. Then her eyes drifted upward again.

  "It seems almost as if you can touch them," she said. The stars blinked in a great dome around them. The faint illumination of dawn streaked the eastern horizon, promising eventual sunrise. "I wish the sun would wait awhile before he rises… just today."

  "If I could stop it — him — for you, I would," Hal said. He wanted to tell her that he would do anything she asked. Again the mental pictures of the slaughter at Palul came to him, and he could no longer remain mute. "When I feared that you'd be caught in the battle, my terror was worse than any I have ever known."

  She smiled and took his hands. "I think that I knew you'd come for me," she said softly.

  "Your father spoke of us together. Shadows and light, he said. What does it mean?"

  "Perhaps he means the colors of our skins," she laughed. With the sound of her laughter, Hal knew that he could never again let her go.

  "Erixitl, do you know that I… I love you?" Hal asked, his voice taut. He feared to look at her face as he spoke.

  "Yes, I know," she said. Her brown eyes were wide, and he wanted to fall into them as she looked up at him.

  "Do… do you…" His voice caught. In answer, she reached her hands up around his shoulders, pulling his head down to hers. Halloran crushed his lips to her, and she drew them together with fiery strength. They remained in this embrace for a long time, clinging to each other for love, and strength, and hope. For these moments, Hal was aware only of this warm, loving woman in his arms.

  But then the visions of treachery and slaughter returned. Halloran broke away with a tortured groan. "I can't get the pictures out of my mind!" He clasped his hands to his eyes, rubbing them savagely, but still he saw the blood and the death and the crying.

  "We can't forget the killing," said Erix. Her voice was thick and her eyes filled with tears. "But neither can we deny our own life."

  When her dress fell to the ground, Erixitl's skin glowed in the moonlight with a brilliant copper sheen. Her beauty, and his love for her, drove every other image from Halloran's mind.

  "The time draws close," hissed the Ancestor, "and our plan hangs by a thread that can be sliced off by the life of a young woman!" Unprecedented passion blazed in his words.

  "I repeat to you all: She must be killed!" The Darkfyre surged upward with his command, swelling around the dark-robed drow gathered in the heart of the Highcave. The seething caldron shook with a deep resonance that caused the very heart of the mountain to rumble. Red coals flared and waned, and the infernal crimson glow rose and fell in a steady pulse.

  "The invaders have entered Nexal. The stage is set for Naltecona's death and the cult's preeminence. All our plans, our centuries of preparations, stand in danger because this woman lives!"

  The Ancestor trembled, so palpable was his rage. And with him trembled the bedrock of the Highcave.

  "She will return to Nexal now — she must. And there we will find her. Alert all the priests, but that is not enough. The bungling of those human clerics has become all too apparent.

  "This time, we will go ourselves." The drow around him stood still, in shock. "Yes, my children. We can no longer remain in the sanctity and solitude of our lair. We will enter the city by night and search it from end to end if we must!"

  Under Cordell's orders, legionnaires had assembled beams and planks to make tables and benches in the palace. Now Bishou Domincus and Captain Alvarro enjoyed the luxury of a fine meal, served by pretty Maztican slave girls. With a satisfied smacking of lips, the cleric savored the succulent leg of a turkey. The greasy bones of the second leg and a thigh lay on the crude table beside him.

  Alvarro cast a sideways glance at the Bishou, noting that they wer
e alone except for the slaves. Kardann had eaten with them, but the assessor had left, declaring his intention to explore the palace that now served as the legion's barracks.

  "Halloran was there at Palul," grunted the red-bearded captain of horse.

  The Bishou stiffened. "You saw him?" The cleric's brows darkened grimly.

  Alvarro nodded.

  "And he escaped? He lives?"

  The captain cursed and lied. "He fought beside a hundred of those savage warriors. I was alone, except for Vane. We could do nothing!"

  "But Cordell — surely you told him!"

  Alvarro related the tale of the captain-general's indifference, while the Bishou seethed.

  "My daughter's death will not be avenged as long as Halloran lives!" growled Domincus. The fact that Halloran had been powerless to prevent Marline's sacrifice meant nothing to the cleric, the man had been forever branded as one with the savages in his mind.

  Suddenly the pudgy form of the assessor burst through the door. His face was flushed with excitement. "Come here — come this way!" Kardann cried.

  "What is it, man?" demanded the Bishou, reluctant to leave his repast. Alvarro rose, however, and so the cleric followed.

  The assessor from Amn led Bishou Domincus and Captain Alvarro down one of the long corridors in the palace. "It's in here!" Kardan gasped excitedly.

  The two men followed him into a small room with multiple columns around its periphery, and many colorful frescoes depicting the mountains and fertile land surrounding the lake and the city. It looked like a passageway, except that the far end was merely a blank wall, not an entrance or hallway.

  "Look! I dont know what it is, but it's got to be something. Look at this!" Barely containing his excitement, the pudgy assessor held up his lantern and gestured toward the wall at the back of the room.