Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [26]
“Perhaps we can remain there for a while,” said Halloran. “Let everyone rest and restore their strength.”
“Yes,” said Erixitl absently as she cast another look skyward. Hal knew that she would only be content to rest as long as the eagle did not urge them on.
There was also the matter of her father. When the two of them had journeyed to Nexal before the Night of Wailing, he had seemed safe in his house, high on the ridge above the town of Palul. Now, with chaos spreading across the land, the blind old man’s life could not help but be endangered. Erix spoke of him only rarely, but Halloran knew that Lotil was much on her mind. He, too, worried and wondered about the old man. Yet he accepted the fact that they could not go to him-not with the horde of the Viperhand looming between them.
With the growing life of their child, the man knew that his wife needed a quiet, secure place to live, to go through her pregnancy and to make a home. Yet for now they could have none of that, and this knowledge tore deeply at his soul.
“I hope that we may have that time,” Gultec added, “but I fear it will not be so. I myself may have to leave you.”
“Leave us? Why?” Erixitl looked at the Jaguar Knight with genuine fondness.
“I owe a debt to one who is my master in all ways, in a place very far from here. He granted me freedom to journey to Nexal, to witness the shape of the threat looming over the world. But always 1 await his summons to return, and when he calls I must obey.”
“Have you been called?” asked Halloran.
“No, but I sense… things in the air around me, in the earth beneath my feet, terrors stalk the land-terrors beyond those we know and already fear. It is this, I am certain. that will call me back to Tulom-Itzi.”
Erixitl nodded, meeting the warrior’s gaze as her own eyes misted. “We cannot long escape the needs of… fate,” she said.
“Or gods.” Gultec smiled, raising his eyes but still speaking to Erix. “Perhaps we can use whatever help is offered.”
Erix sighed. Abruptly she turned away from the priest, from all the Mazticans, and started away from the procession. Halloran stepped after her.
He took her hand, silently accompanying her as they walked slowly over the brushy, rock-strewn ground. He sensed her need to get away from the silent, shuffling mass of people. He tried, by his presence, to comfort and shelter her.
Finally Erixitl sat on a boulder. She was not out of breath, but lines of strain showed around her eyes and mouth. Halloran sat beside her.
“They all need so much,” she said finally “And all we can offer them is hope! When will something happen? How long do we have to wait?”
“We’re alive, we’re healthy” Halloran said. “The important thing is to stay that way. The rest will take care of itself.” It has to! he added silently.
While the people of Maztica marched past, she leaned against him and he held her for a while. Then Halloran saw a horseman galloping toward them. At the sound of hoof-beats, Erix stiffened and stood up.
“Hello, milady… Halloran,” grunted the rider, Captain Grimes, as he dismounted. “We’ve got some bad news.”
“What is it?” asked Erixitl.
“A young lad just caught up with the rear scouts. Seems he was with a group bringing up the rear. They were attacked, massacred almost to the last man, woman, and child! He gave some details. Sounds to me like it was ores and ogres.”
“How far back?” asked Hal.
“Don’t know. He said it happened this morning, so not more than a few miles.”
“It’s more than that to the next water,” Erix reminded them.
“There’s another question,” said Hal, suddenly looking skyward. “Gultec said that the water lay to the southwest, right?”
“Yes,” Erix said, also looking upward. And as she did, she understood Halloran’s concern.
The eagle had veered away from their path, now soaring with greater speed. His path lay eastward.
* * * * *
Zochimaloc arose early on a mist-shrouded morning, passing from his small house through his garden. Soon he reached the broad, grassy