Viperhand - Douglas Niles [73]
"'tes, Patriarch," Shatil said, his voice growing stronger. "The high priest Zilti perished in that fight, as did many of our people. So, too, would I have, but Zilti ordered me to flee that I could bring this to you." Shatil held out the parchment, and Hoxitl quickly took it.
"You have done well," said the patriarch. He unrolled the sheet and held it up so that Shatil and the Jaguar Knight could look over his shoulders at the page.
Shatil gasped as he saw a picture take shape there. That's the square!" he said, pointing to the feasting multitudes of Mazticans and legionnaires. "This is what it looked like before the battle."
The sheet resembled a fine painting in its detail and complexity and brightness of color. They looked first at the whole plaza, as it might be seen by a soaring bird. Then the images became more precise, and they saw Cordell speaking pleasantly with Chical and Kalnak.
'How can this happen?" Shatil inquired, amazed at the appearance of the picture at all, not to mention its clarity and accuracy.
"The magic of hishna" explained Hoxitl brusquely. "The power of the fang and the talon. The recreation of images is one of its greatest strengths. Now be silent."
As they observed the picture, ShauTs amazement turned to shock. The picture began to move. They saw the black-robed wizard speaking to the warrior behind the houses. The scroll made no sound, but the warrior's meaning was clear.
"The traitor!" spat the Jaguar. "He tells the enemy of our ambush!"
"Through sorcery," observed Hoxitl. "See?" They watched the mage and the warrior disappear behind the house, screened from view. Then the picture shifted, and they saw the scene from a different place, with a clear view of the woman and her victim.
The pale woman touched her cloaked hand to his throat in a gesture that seemed almost tender, but then the warrior's back arched and he fell like a log to the ground. He lay there, stiff, turning blue as his eyes nearly popped from his head. Without a backward look, the woman left as soon as it was clear that he was dead.
Then they watched numbly as the battle unfolded, until at last Shatil had to turn his eyes away. It had been enough to live through that horror once.
Hoxitl and the warrior stood for a long time, engrossed by the scene even as they were appalled. When Shatil looked again, the plaza was a smoking ruin, bodies and blood scattered everywhere.
"So it was in Palul," muttered the Jaguar Knight as Hoxitl finally rolled up the sheet. "But it will not be in Nexal! We can pull up the bridges on the causeways, mass the warriors on the shore. When the strangers come to the valley, we shall see that they never leave!"
"We shall indeed see that they never leave," agreed Hoxitl, "But not in the way you imagine."
"What do you mean?" asked the warrior.
"Naltecona has decreed that the strangers be welcomed to our city as gods. The causeways will not only remain in place, but they also will be decorated with flowers to honor our 'guests.1"
"How can this be?" demanded Shatil, appalled. "They must be stopped before it is too late!"
"Would that our Revered Counselor was as wise as a young priest," said Hoxitl wryly. "But until that time, we must plan and prepare… and wait. The cult of the Viperhand grows daily and will be ready to strike when the time comes.
"But come, Shatil, you are injured. You must now have food and rest. Your message has proven most enlightening, and its delivery shall not go unrewarded."
Shatil bowed his head, warmed by the praise from this, the highest-ranking member of his order. "Patriarch, there is but one reward I could ask."
"Speak your wish," urged Hoxitl. Outside, dawn's purple glow had begun to color the sacred plaza.
"With this dawn's sacrifice, I wish to pledge my life and body to Zaftec-to serve him in war as well as in ritual. Please, Patriarch, grant me the brand of the Viperhand," asked Shatil levelly.
"It shall be as you desire-but not this morning. Tbnight," came Hoxitl's