Douglas Niles - Ironhelm

"He is Caxal, the 'Revered Counselor' of Ulatos" Darien interpreted.

"Tell him to bring me all of the gold in the city — now. We shall also require food and quarters. But first the gold. They are to bring it here." Cordell gestured to a raised square in the center of the plaza, a foot above ground level.

Darien translated, then Caxal turned and spoke urgently to the lords and chiefs behind him. "Tell him that if they attempt to conceal any of their gold, their city will be destroyed!"

Caxal's expression was desperate as he spoke to Darien. "We will bring you all of our gold. Please know that we are not rich. This is not Nexal! We are but the Payit, and our gold is yours."

Showing interest, Cordell nodded to Darien. "We will learn more about this place 'Nexal.' But for now, let us count the gold before us!" He turned back to the counselor of Ulatos.

"Caxal, you are to lead your lords to every house in your city. You will claim all of the gold in my name and bring it to me here. When you have finished, my men will search. If we find that you have deceived us, your city will be destroyed!" The counselor hastily turned and collected his nobles, sending them scurrying off in all directions.

"My general, the pennant," Bishou Domincus urged, joining the pair at the base of the pyramid. Several men-at-arms and the sergeant bearing the legion's standard also came up.

"To the top!" exclaimed Cordell, with a flourish. The little party climbed the pyramid. At the top was a lush garden, complete with clear bathing pools, grassy walkways, and beds of brilliant blossoms. At the center of the square area stood a raised dais, with a statue upon it.

"A demon!" cried Domincus, spitting upon the image of the Feathered Serpent, Qotal. "Tear it down!"

Instantly the men-at- arms toppled the squat carving, knocking the leering dragonlike head off its encircling mane of feathers in the process. In moments, they had rolled both pieces of the statue over the edge, where they tumbled down the side and smashed to rubble in the plaza below.

Already, Cordell could see, natives hurried to pile objects in the center of the plaza. He could see the metallic gleam of gold on many statuettes, chains, and bracelets. Other objects, swathed in cloth for the moment, he imagined were ingots and large chunks of the precious yellow metal.

"The pennant! For the glory of Helm!" Bishou Domincus tossed back his head and shouted. He snatched the standard from the sergeant and leaped onto the now-vacant dais. His gauntlets, each emblazoned with the blazing eye of his god, gripped the flagpole as he raised it high. With a powerful blow, he planted it in a crack between two rocks. The pennant unfurled, its golden eagle emblem snapping taut, the great staring eye of Helm in the eagle's breast glaring imperiously about the city.

Behind the pennant, the crystal plume of the fountain slowly sank back into its pool. Then it died altogether.

The smokeless fire cast a warm glow against the shiny walls of the grotto. Halloran emerged from the clear pool, his skin raw from scrubbing. Corporal still swam joyfully in the shallow stream, while Storm grazed on a profusion of tall grass.

Hal discarded the root Erix had provided him, an herb that had frothed with the water to form something she called 'soap.' It had proven so effective that Hal now felt uncomfortably clean.

He slipped into his leather jerkin and woolen leggings with some relief, ignoring Erix's wrinkled nose. They both relaxed now, comfortable and reasonably safe for the moment, in any event. Hal had located this steep-sided rocky niche, only a few hundred paces from shore but masked by verdant growth on all sides.

"We will find you a mantle," she said. "Clean and cool. You will like it."

Hal grunted noncommittally. In fact, he immediately noticed the itching of his present rough fabric against his skin. Pools of sticky sweat formed quickly where the heavy leather padding clung tightly to his body. But the bath had been grueling enough. Helm's curses if he would allow anything else.

"Here. I have food." Erix handed him a flat object, which he recognized as a mayzcake. The islanders had introduced the legion to this nourishing staple, the mainstay of the Maztican diet.

"Thanks." Hal bit into the cake, and suddenly tears sprang from his eyes and his mouth blazed with fire. Desperately he swallowed the food and gulped many mouthfuls of water. "What's — what's in this?" he gasped.

"This? Just beans. Oh, and a little pepper. Do you like it?" She smiled curiously.

"It's… splendid," he whispered, quickly cooling his gullet with more water. Even the water only seemed to spread the fire around, like oil thrown upon a blaze.

Still, rations were rations, and these were the only rations available. He tried smaller bites and slowly came to appreciate the sharp, distinctive flavor. His eyes watered freely and sweat burst from the pores on his skin, but he noted with surprise that, in this tropical heat, the spicy food actually made his body feel cooler — on the outside, at any rate.

"Tell me about your land," he prodded as they finished eating. "That city, Ulatos… is that your home?"

"No. I come from far away, near the Heart of the True World."

"The True World?"

"Maztica. The whole known world. Maztica's greatest nation is Nexal, for the Nexalans have conquered many of the other tribes. Kultaka is another strong land, enemy of Nexal. Here we are in Payit, the land farthest removed from Nexal. Payit is the only land that is not an enemy of Nexal, but it is not a conquest either. The Payit are too far away for the Nexalans to worry much about them."

"But what of the bloody priests, such as the one that killed Martine?"

Erix sighed. "The followers of Zaltec, such as that priest, are far more numerous among the Nexala and Kultaka than among the Payit. But always we can find worshipers of Qotal, such as good Kachin. He was the patriarch, the highest of high priests, of the temple in Ulatos." She turned to him, suddenly curious. "You said that your own people attacked you. Why?"

Hal told the tale of his arrest and escape, and as he spoke, the events seemed like distant history, a story that had happened to someone else. The whole fabric of his life had been shattered, and yet he felt like the same person now as when he had served Cordell's legion.

Yet as he sensed the impact of what had happened, he began to realize that Cordell, Alvarro, Bishou Domincus — none of them would be content to let him escape. They would come after him with all the powers at their disposal, and Hal knew these to be considerable. In that same instant, he made another decision.

"When I spoke to you of staying with me, I forgot… that is, you can't," he began, awkwardly. He forced the words out. "You can't come with me. I can't be around you!"

"Why?" Erix demanded.

"It's not safe. The legion is sure to chase me, and they'll probably find me. You would… well, you'd get in the way if I had to fight," he lied.

Erix leaped to her feet. "And just what will you do? Do you think, with your hairy monsters and your metal shirt, you can go where you please in Maztica? Do what you will?

"No, Captain Halloran. You will be killed, and your heart will be fed to Zaltec or Tezca. Only with me do you have a chance to stay alive. And don't worry… if something attacks you, I won't get in the way."

Halloran blinked in surprise at her outburst. He hadn't intended to offend her. Couldn't she see that he only wanted her safety? That no place in Maztica was likely to be as unsafe as by his side?

"You don't understand!" he blurted. He wanted to explain to her his terrible guilt over Martine's death. She had to see that he could not be responsible for another such violent fate! But even as the reasons, the explanations, whirled through his mind, he began to feel that perhaps he didn't understand things fully either.