Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [117]
Indeed, Poshtli had begun to sense that the god needed little from humans, save that they open the passage for him again to return to the world. Once he reached Maztica, however, Qotal would feel no compulsion to heed the pleas of his worshipers. They were puny mortals to him, and as such, beneath his cosmic concerns.
But now Poshtli sensed a nearness again, a form of substance somewhere, not too distant, but still invisible within the ethereal fog. For just once, briefly, that mist parted.
He saw revealed before him a shore of verdant green surrounding a small, lichen-encrusted pyramid. Below the pyramid, on a high, seaward bluff, two faces gazed impassively outward. And then Poshtli understood.
They looked seaward, and they searched for the return of the god.
The week following Cordell’s usurpation of command passed quickly. Erixitl remained comatose, and nothing that anyone among the Mazticans or the foreigners could do seemed capable of provoking any kind of response.
Chical and the eagles maintained a steady vigil over the approaching monsters and the huge stone god that led them. The miles passed quickly beneath their footsteps, and all in Helmsport and Ulatos felt growing fear as word of the
inevitably approaching mass reached the city.
It was early in the morning, seven days after Cordell’s victory, that Chical once again glided to the earth within Helm-sport and quickly shifted back to his human form The captain-general already stood before him, summoned by guards who had seen Chical approaching and who knew how eagerly Cordell awaited this important report.
“They are very close now,” Chical reported. “They no longer march as an untamed horde. They have been trained into an army.”
“When will they get here?” Cordell asked.
Chical looked at the sun, just rising above the eastern horizon. “I would guess sometime today, perhaps as early as noon if they press on as vigorously as they have been.”
“No need to lighten their pace now,” growled the commander. “Not when they’re this close. Is there any word from the city about Erixitl?” he inquired.
“No change,” reported the eagle, who had stopped at Ulatos before coming to the fort.
Cordell grimaced. He didn’t know why he placed so much hope in the recovery of this young woman. There certainly seemed to be no rational reason for it. Yet after these long months in Maztica, coming so close to ultimate victory only to have it changed, by the caprice of the gods, to complete catastrophe, Cordell had begun to think differently about the world-He knew that Pryat Devane had worked his best magic upon Erix, yet the man had returned to Helmsport in failure. He hadn’t understood the affliction that assailed her, though he had predicted that it would wear off in time. Bui too he had sensed a greatness, a power in the young woman, that had clearly awed him.
While Erixitl remained unconscious, there seemed little that they could do except plan to make war on the horde of monsters that marched inexorably closer. This Cordell and his new army had spent the last week doing.
His new soldiers accepted his command enthusiastically, and quickly began preparations for the battle that Don Vaez hadn’t believed was possible. That captain now languished
*.he same cell that had held Cordell. Though the captain-general fully intended to free his rival when they both re-
turned to Amn, he had no intention of doing so prematurely. Fortunately even Don Vaez’s most loyal officers had proved remarkably willing to accept Cordell’s leadership- Now they toiled in the service of their new commander with more diligence and military bearing than ever they had given the old.
Cordell had reviewed the men, finding that he commanded a well-balanced force, though several of the companies had had little experience in actual battle. Others, however, consisted of mercenaries who had served him before-men such as the guard, Millston-and these men he knew he could trust implicitly.
The harquebuses were weapons that Cordell had never