Viperhand - Douglas Niles [19]
"They will come to Nexal," said Poshtli without a moment's hesitation.
"How can you be so sure?" demanded Atzil, the sudden tension in his voice belying his previous assertion of confidence.
"They are shrewd, and they hunger for gold. These are two things I have learned about the strangers. They will learn as much as they can about Maztica before they act. They are certain to discover that nowhere in the True World will they find as much gold as we have here."
"Certainly they would not think they could march to Nexal and take our gold," demanded Atzil indignantly.
"I do not know," replied Poshtli, shaking his head. "But I would not be surprised to see them try."
"My son, there has been much talk of these strangers during your absence," broke in Chical gently. Poshtli noticed, with surprise, that the other warriors had silently slipped from the lodge. Now just the three of them sat in the long, dark room. A slave entered quietly and threw more water on the heated rocks, sending another cloud of steam into the air The mist hung heavy in the air of the lodge.
"This man who came with you, the one you call Halloran, has been expected," Chical explained. "There are some who wish to speak with him. But there are others who wish to see his heart given to Zaltec at the earliest possible time."
Poshtli sat up straight. "Is this the way we treat the guests of Naltecona?" he demanded.
"Silence!" Chical's voice grew momentarily harsh, then it softened. "It is not certain, but the cries for his heart come from the very highest authority! And, as yet, he is not Nalte-cona's guest-he is yours."
"But my uncle will welcome him!" protested the young Eagle. In truth, Poshtli grew suddenly concerned. He had been surprised when his uncle, the Revered Counselor, had been too busy to see him this afternoon, following his return to the city. Now he began to wonder if Naltecona had avoided him for a different reason.
"That is not certain," interjected Atzil, "for other voices may carry more weight."
"More weight? What higher authority can there be than the Revered Counselor?"
"Zaltec himself," said Chical simply. "Zaltec may desire his heart."
"Through the words of his Ancient Ones?" asked Poshtli, unable to keep the scorn from his voice. He remembered the death of the Ancient One called Spirali, slain by himself and Halloran. Hal had referred to the creature as a drow and had explained that there was nothing supernatural about them, though there was a great deal that was evil. The warrior knew that his comrades weren't ready for that tale yet.
"Do not underestimate the powers of Zaltec," warned Chical- "You are young and strong. We know of your bravery, and your recent accomplishment even suggests a capacity for wisdom." The venerable Eagle smiled slightly, taking the sting from his words. "But you are no match for the cult of Zaltec."
"The man comes to Nexal under my protection! Anyone who tries to take him will first have to deal with me!"
"You are a proud Eagle, my son." Chical met Poshtli's gaze squarely. "The order is also proud of you. Never has one so young proven himself of such worth. You have commanded the army on campaigns to gather many prisoners; you have fought and bested the bravest warriors of Kultaka and Pe-zelac. Now you have embarked on a quest for a vision and have gained that vision to return with this stranger.
"You are a great Eagle Warrior, Poshtli," Chical continued, his voice stern. "And you have sworn your obedience to the order. If you are told to leave the stranger in the hands of others, you will obey."
Chical rose suddenly, with the fluid motion of a much younger man. Atzil, too, stood.
"You have no choice," concluded Chical softly. He and Atzil turned and left the lodge.-
Poshtli sat alone, dumbfounded. He stared into the air, seeking an answer. But all he saw was the smoke and the ash and the steam.
The white-skinned hand held the quill lightly,