Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [109]
Now the woman rode in a wide litter, lined with leaves and blossoms. The front of the framework swung from Storm’s saddle, and the rear dragged along the ground when the path was clear. All too often, however, the way was obstructed, and at these times Halloran lifted the rear of the litter, carrying it over every obstacle.
Halloran would allow no one but himself to perform this task. Erixitl’s breathing remained steady, but she did not regain consciousness. Even the most potent of Coton’s priestly ministrations could do nothing to return her to awareness or even cause her to flicker her eyelids or make the faintest of sounds.
For two days, they continued onward, pressing northward through the jungle. Luskag, Daggrande, Jhatli-even Lotil-all tried to aid Halloran as he strained over the rough ground. But he clenched his teeth and ignored them, even as salt sweat stung his eyes and the miles rolled endlessly on.
They stopped only after it was fully dark, and at one of these camps, Halloran made some decisions.
“I think we should take her to Ulatos instead of going directly to Twin Visages,” he announced as they finished a meal of venison and fruit around a low fire.
“Why?” asked Luskag. The desert dwarf had become convinced of Erixitl’s vision and knew that she believed Qotal would return at the faces on the cliffside.
“It seems more and more like some kind of spell that has her in its grasp. In the city, at least, we will find more clerics, perhaps an apothecary-a chance to help her.”
Coton, the priest of Qotal, nodded silently. Lotil voiced his own opinion. “We can take my daughter to the temple of Qotal in the city. Perhaps there we can find aid for her. This is a good plan.”
One by one the others agreed. They didn’t know how far ahead of them lay the coastline, and hence Ulatos and Twin Visages, though Gultec estimated that they were only a few days away. A native of Ulatos, he recognized that they had long since left the deep jungles of Far Payit behind.
After they had reached a decision, Halloran rose from the fire and went to see Erixitl. She lay motionless on the soft mattress they had made for her. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing, and the roundness of her belly seemed so unmistakably alive that Hal almost convinced himself that she merely slept. He placed his hand upon her abdomen, where so often he had felt the kicking and squirming of their child. Now he felt no movement at all.
“Summon your cleric, man! We need him now, or Katl will die!” Cordell stormed about the tiny makeshift cell, slamming his fist into the door repeatedly. Beside him, the Eagle Knight moaned in pain and delirium, his smashed right arm bound crudely by Cordell and Grimes.
The wounded eagle, Katl, had been placed in the cell with Cordell and his legionnaires. Slowly, in his unconsciousness and delirium, his body had shifted back to its human form. As they ministered to him, they had seen that his arm bone had been crushed by the force of the ball. It seemed unlikely that he would ever use it for anything useful again.
Outside the door, a trio of armed men stood, trying to ignore the prisoner’s outburst. They guarded the captain-general and the legionnaires who had accompanied him
into the fort in a boarded-up stall within a small wooden barn. Hired by-and loyal to-Don Vaez, the men-at-arms were nonetheless nervous about imprisoning a personage of Cordell’s high reputation.
Finally one of the guards left, but when he returned it was not with a man of healing. Instead, he came back with Don Vaez himself.
“I understand you’re creating a disturbance,” chided the blond-haired captain.
“I’ve tried to tell them this man needs a cleric. The fever has taken him, and without aid, he doesn’t stand a chance!”
“Why should you care?” inquired Don Vaez with a disdainful look at the Maztican warrior. Katl lay on the floor in the cell, surrounded