Viperhand - Douglas Niles [79]
"Excellent!" A whispered word from Darien, unheard by Naltecona, brought Cordell quickly back to his normal size. Poshtli saw this command as well. "And your hospitality, my lord, is most overwhelming. Such quarters as these surpass our wildest expectations. In truth, we are your humble guests."
A conch-shell horn sounded in the distance, announcing the start of the evening's sacrificial procession.
"You must excuse me," said Naltecona, with a deep bow. "My presence is required at the evening services."
"For the murder of helpless captives?" barked Cordell, knowing all too well the nature of these rituals. "Suppose a greater force compelled you to order that these pagan rites cease?"
Naltecona looked at him with a hint of regret in his eyes. "Should I give such an order, my people would fear that the sun would fail to rise in the morning. My influence over them would cease at that time, for they would know that I was mad.
"It would mean that a new Revered Counselbr would take my throne. The rites, of course, would continue."
For a moment longer, Cordell glared at the Revered Counselor, tempted to challenge him on the issue. Something in the Maztican's level gaze convinced him that Naltecona spoke the truth, however. And the practice of sacrifice was far from their most pressing concern, he reminded himself, with a look at the gleaming wall of gold.
"Make yourselves comfortable here. Of course, slaves have been appointed for your use. There will be sufficient room for your men, I trust?"
"Yes, plenty. The Kultakans and Payit will camp outside the palace in that big square," Cordell said breezily.
"I need tell you again that the presence of our enemies among us, camping in the sacred heart of our city, is an affront to all Nexal. The people resent them and will quickly grow restless with restraint." Naltecona repeated the arguments he had made when Cordell's allies had first entered the city.
"We'll keep our eyes on the situation," promised the general. "But for now, they stay."
"As you command," replied the lord and master of Nexal.
Halloran recovered swiftly after his fever broke, though his wound remained a painful reminder of the battle. Still weak, he slept much. He also enjoyed the hot mayzcakes, beans, and fruits that Erixitl brought to him in a steady stream, at least while he remained awake.
Most of his sustenance came from the beans and mayz, though she prepared these with a variety of spices that made each meal a new and exciting experience. He even found himself enjoying the hot burn of the sharp peppers with which she laced his food. And the thin, spiced chocolate she gave him to drink was a rare treat.
They spoke little of the past, or the future. For a while, it seemed enough that they could be together. Indeed, it would be days before Hal's wound healed enough to allow them to think about much else. Although he could rest with little pain, the puncture became very sore when he moved around.
If his waking hours passed pleasantly enough, the same was not so with his sleep. He had vivid, terrifying dreams of the massacre and sometimes awoke tense with fear over Erix's safety. But these concerns he kept to himself.
One dark night he awakened after such a dream, sweating from an image of Erix run down by a charging line of lancers, led by Halloran himself. Hal lay still, staring at the thatched roof of the house, and gradually his terror passed.
Erixitl, he saw, was not in the house. He rose, noticing with mild pleasure that his wound was giving him less pain with each passing day.
"I couldn't sleep," he said, emerging from the house to find Erixitl in the yard. The moon was a half-circle in the east, rising high in the clear, star-speckled sky. A few hours remained before dawn.
The woman