Viperhand - Douglas Niles [88]
The cult of the Viperhand flourished in alt corners of the city, though its members remained outside the sacred plaza for the most part. The strangers never ventured beyond the walls of the palace of Axalt. Food was supplied daily by the servants of Naltecona, and the Revered Counselor often walked upon the palace roof, apparently happy and serene.
Full darkness settled across the valley before the final sacrifice had been offered. Finally the priests gathered before the altar to hear HoxitI.
"I have seen the Ancient Ones," explained the high priest. The hearts of his exhausted compatriots pulsed to the news. They awaited his words with awed anticipation.
"Zaltec is pleased with our efforts. When the battle begins, his power will shield us from the metal weapons of the invaders. But we cannot strike yet. This is most important!"
Shatil's heart sank at the news. He sensed the disappointment of the other priests. Impulsively he blurted, "But, Patriarch, why can we not attack while the blood of the cult runs fresh and hot?"
Hoxitl sighed, a patient sound. "This is why it is forbidden: The Ancient Ones have had a warning. There is one who can destroy our plan. She is a young woman selected by the gods, who can by her very existence give victory to the invaders and utter, cataclysmic disaster to us!
"As long as she lives, our uprising would face disaster. Therefore, our entire task, for now, is to find this woman so that her heart can be given to Zaltec and our ultimate victory assured!"
"Where is she? Who is she?" The priests clamored for information, but Hoxitl quieted them with a look. His gaze came to rest on Shantil, and his voice was gentle.
"We are to wait for her to come to Nexal. She may be in the company of the stranger, Halloran." Shatil looked up with a start, to find Hoxitl's eyes squarely upon his own.
"She is your sister, Erixitl of Palul."
Chical, proud captain of the Eagle Warriors, came to see Poshtli in the throne room of Naltecona's palace. Poshtti did not sit atop the dais, but the chamber itself seemed to be the best place for him to conduct the business of the city and nation in the absence of his uncle.
In the presence of Chical and other ranking nobles, Nalte-cona had entrusted these tasks to his nephew, along with a grim admonishment to maintain peace with the strangers camped in their midst.
Poshtli's primary headache had been relations between the Kultakans and Nexalans in the sacred plaza, surrounding the palaces. The warriors of the city trained in the plaza and frequented the temples and altars there. The Kultakans, and to a lesser extent the Payit, had not yet interfered with these activities, but Poshtli expected a clash at any time.
Now he welcomed the arrival of his old captain, though he already guessed Chical's business.
"When will you order the attack?" demanded the Eagle.
"There will be no attack until Naltecona commands it.'tbu yourself were there when he said this!" Poshtli shot back.
"Surely you could see that he spoke under the threat of the strangers' swords!"
"I saw no such thing. Is it your belief that the Revered Counselor would lie to his people out of fear for his own life?" The question held a grim undertone of challenge, and Chical dropped his eyes.
"No, it is not." When he looked up, deep pain showed in his eyes and in the tight set of his mouth. "But the spirit of Nexal, of all Maztica, is breaking beneath the weight of this outrage," he said quietly. "Our enemies may one day conquer us, but let it be through battle, not as our guests!"
"I am bound by my uncle's word to carry out his wishes, but if the strangers should do him any harm, that bond is broken. And know this, old warrior," Poshtli said, fixing Chical with an aggressive stare. "Before I will submit to conquest, there will be war!"
Privately he wondered if it was not already too late.
They camped in a high meadow, amid a riotous array of alpine blossoms. Staying off the main road, Hal and Erix traversed the shoulder of the northward volcano, Popol, high above the tree