Viperhand - Douglas Niles [22]
Perhaps two dozen people stood in the chamber, Hal saw. With one exception, they wore the tattered leather cloaks and torn rags such as the messenger had just donned.
The exception, Halloran knew, was Naltecona.
The Revered Counselor of Nexal reclined on a floating litter of brilliant feathers. The litter hovered over a platform several feet above the floor of the room. The attendants, Hal noted, all stood on the floor.
He was surprised when Naltecona rose to his feet as Hal approached the throne. The ruler wore a headdress of emerald feathers, long plumes of iridescent green that waved regally high over his head. Gold chains encircled his neck, and golden ornaments weighted his wrists, ankles, ears, and lip.
As the counselor rose, a great cape of feathers spread behind him, floating weightlessly in the air and trailing after Naltecona as he moved forward.
"Greetings, stranger," said the Revered Counselor, approaching Hal and then stopping two paces away to look him up and down.
"Thank you. Your… Reverence," replied Halloran, uncertain of the correct title. His Nexalan, which had begun to flow so smoothly with Erixitl, all of a sudden felt like a clunky foreign tongue, something he would never master.
Naltecona clapped his hands, and several slaves brought forward bundles to lay at Halloran's feet. "Please accept these presents as a token of welcome to our land," offered the ruler.
Halloran looked down at the array, suddenly dizzy. He glanced quickly past the feathered cloak and thick bolts of cloth, instead focusing on two bowls that had been placed with the treasure. He wanted to kneel down and scoop up those bowls, one of which contained a pile of metallic yellow dust and the other a pile of smooth, cream-colored pebbles, but he managed to marshal his restraint. Instead, he bowed formally, studying the treasures surreptitiously as he bent over them. Gold! And pearls! His heart leaped in excitement.
"Your generosity overwhelms me, Excellency," he said haltingly. "I regret that my poor traveler's lot does not allow me to repay you in kind."
Naltecona held up a hand, dismissing the apology. He obviously relished the role of the beneficent one. "Are you an emissary-a speaker-for your people?" inquired the ruler.
Halloran phrased his answer carefully. "No. I am a solitary warrior, one who travels the land such as your nephew, PoshtU. I seek a destiny that is mine alone."
He didn't want to admit that he was a fugitive from the legion, a man who undoubtedly had a price on his head by now. But neither could he misrepresent himself as CordeU's agent.
Naltecona nodded thoughtfully at the explanation, scrutinizing Hal as he spoke of a search for destiny. Obviously the ruler was a man who believed in destiny.
"Hoxitl, Colon… come here," ordered Naltecona. Hal saw two elderly men-one filthy, scarred, and emacialed, wearing a robe of stained dark clolh; ihe other clean and well fed, dressed in a white tunic-step forward from the crowd of attendants behind the counselor. The clean one, Colon, reminded Halloran of Kachin, a cleric of the god Qptal who had died defending Erix from the drow elf Spirali. Naltecona confirmed this connection with his next words.
"These are my high priests, Hoxitl of bloody Zaltec, Colon of the Bulterfly God, Qotal. I wish for them to hear your answers to my questions. Now, tell me… who is your god?"
Halloran looked up, startled by the question. Gods had never played much of a role in his life. Still, it seemed to be a question that required an answer.
"Almighty Helm, the Eternally Vigilanl" he said. That warlike god, patron deity of the Golden Legion, was as much of a spiritual light as Hal could claim.
"We have many gods in Maztica," explained Naltecona. "Zaltec and Qotal, of course, but there are also Azul, who brings us rain, and lezca, god of the sun, and many more."
"Many, and enough," added Hoxitl quietly. That cleric, his face smeared