Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [101]
The opposite force would be needed, Darien understood, and her arcane knowledge and skill, fed by her hatred, fused toward the magic of hishna, the magic of talon and
claw. Hishna was the power that would allow her to overcome
the Chosen Daughter of Qotal.
* * * * *
Cordell and his picked group of legionnaires pressed through the forests of Payit, as often as not dismounting to hack their way through encloaking brush, leading the horses at a painstaking crawl. Overhead, Chical and the eagles soared, marking the progress of Zaltec, Hoxitl, and the beasts of the Viperhand.
Of all of these, the massive and animated statue of Zaltec seemed most menacing to Cordell and his men. Though they couldn’t know that they saw the form of a deity among them, the fact of its awesome power and apparently irresistible strength were obvious simply from its size.
Cordell still hadn’t told Kardann about the giant figure that marched with the monster army. Indeed, the captain-general had often come to wonder about the wisdom of bringing the whining assessor along on this arduous journey. Such thoughts, then, brought him back to the questions at the very root of their march:
Who were these adventurers who had landed at Helm-sport? Why had they made captives of Cordell’s garrison? And what would be their reception for Cordell himself, once he arrived?
Unfortunately the fate of the men he had left behind offered no encouragement for him. Now Cordell began to wonder about plans and schemes-about ways to reach these potentially lifesaving men and bend them to his will. But now he would have to use his wits, for the force of
strength certainly belonged to the other side.
And even then, supposing he could gain mastery of these newcomers, using them as the reinforcements lie so desperately needed, how could they stand against a hundred-foot-tall giant? Perhaps the newcomers had brought mages and their power would give them hope.
Still, it seemed an impossible task, with several other impossible tasks to accomplish before it could even be at-! tempted.
“What will it be, Father?” asked Erixitl quietly as she watched her father weave tufts of red feathers into his work of pluma. The marchers rested comfortably, scattered among many soft glades in the forest. Tomorrow, with the Itza warriors joining them, they would embark on the final leg of their journey to the Payit country and the sacred site of Twin Visages. Many weeks of travel remained, but the roads were known and the land ahead was fertile.
Lotil smiled, not slowing in the deft workings of his fingers. “1 do not know,” he said, with a hint of secrecy in his voice.
“Certainly you must have something in mind,” she prodded. “At times it looks like a great blanket, with an image of an eagle, and I think you are making a cloak for a warrior. Or else it looks like a lake, with forested hills all around, and I think you are making us a home.”
The plumaworker chuckled. “It is all these things and more, my daughter.
“Sometime, perhaps, it will be a feathered shield for our young warrior here, to protect him from the blows that one so brave is certain to attract.”
Jhatli looked up sheepishly at hearing the words. Though the youth had been silent, Lotil had somehow known where he sat, for the old man gestured to the youngster as he spoke.
The tale of his fight with the ants had spread rapidly through the group. Jhatli had sprung on the back of one of
the creatures and sawed it in half with his maca as it squirmed and twisted beneath him. It was a feat that had earned him the instant respect of the Itza warriors.
“Or perhaps 1 weave a birthing blanket for you, my daughter. Your time draws near, I know, and we have little chance of knowing where we shall be then. You will need a proper mat upon which to give birth to such a child, the first to be born of both Maztica and the world beyond.”
Erixitl nodded, resting her hands over her round abdomen. She felt a kick and looked at Halloran, surprised to see tears in the corners of his eyes.
*Or, again, maybe I shall create