Viperhand - Douglas Niles [11]
Also in Naltecona's mind were the legends predicting the return of Qotal, the Butterfly God, to Mazlica. He would return from the eastern ocean, it was said, in a great winged canoe. Some legends had even predicted that he would be pale of skin and bearded of face, just like most of these strangers!
These rumors lay heavy in the ruler's mind, but so, too, did the hunger of Zaltec. And now his cult, the cult of the Vi-perhand, spread more rapidly than ever before. With the coming of the strangers, the young warriors of Nexal seemed more eager than ever to make that sacred vow to Zaltec.
Colon, of course, made no reply, but the voicing of his doubts propelled Naltecona into decision.
"I will not allow his death… not immediately," he explained to Colon. "I must allow him to live, even protect him, that I may learn more about him and his people." His mind made up, Naltecona lurned back lo Hoxitl.
"The stranger will be spared," he told the priest. Then he added, in deference to a vengeful god, "But I shall attend the consecration of the Viperhand al sunset."
Darien stretched languorously and arose from the bed, naked, crossing to the candlestick beside the door. Cordell held his breath, entranced by the pure whiteness of her form, the graceful curve of her albino skin. Squinting her tender eyes against the candle's brightness, Darien extinguished the flame with a quick puff of breath, plunging Ihe cabin inlo darkness.
She returned to the bed, something Cordell smelled and felt but could not see. He silently cursed his lack of night-vision, so desperately did he wanl to look upon her. Whatever the nature of this burning feeling-was it need, desire, perhaps love?-he had felt it grow inlo a fire lhat consumed his heart. Now it burned as he welcomed her into his arms.
Finally she lay sleeping beside him. The gentle sounds of the cily of Ulatos around them should have soothed Cordell into slumber as well. But instead he focused on the upcoming day, and on the march he would order his men to undertake at first light.
He prepared to lead the Golden Legion on a mission of unmatched audacity, and Cordell himself confessed to slight doubts as to the rationality of the plan. His force, five hundred steady veterans, would be augmented by perhaps five thousand warriors of the conquered Payit, whose capital city of Ulatos his legion now occupied.
From here, he would lead them to Nexal. Tales of that city's wealth, of the gold and power that lay Ihere, drew him inexorably. These were the fruits of Ihe expedilion, the gold that had drawn them across Ihe Trackless Sea. They would march lo Ihe heart of this savage continent!
He understood that the army awaiting him in Nexal was greater-many times greater-than the force he had defeated here in Payit. His informant had also told him that another warlike nation, Kultaka, lay across his route of march to Nexal. They could be expected to resist the passage of CordelTs force.
Of course, there was no finer band of men than the iron-hard troops of the Golden Legion. Their accomplishments since the start of this voyage already guaranteed success. They had conquered a nation of warriors numbering more than a hundred thousand souls. They had gathered enough treasure to pay for the expedition ten times over.
Yet Cordell was prepared to risk it all for this audacious gamble. Indeed, he had made the stakes plain for all his men by sinking the fifteen ships that had carried them from the Sword Coast to this distant shore. The hulks of those vessels lay on the bottom of the shallow lagoon, beside the fortress called Helmsport just outside this city. The fleet gone, there could be no backing away from this challenge.
The captain-general rose and paced his sleeping chamber as the night hours ticked away. He thought of his captains-the steady Daggrande, the hot-tempered Alvarro, Garrant, all the others-men he could trust and rely upon, once he himself provided them with leadership.
The spiritual guidance of his men he trusted to the grim fьshou Domincus, now propelled by an implacable hatred