Feathered Dragon - Douglas Niles [30]
Yes, thought Don Vaez. That would be a fitting return home for the leader of the Golden Legion. With this idea, and a thin smile on his too-handsome lips, Don Vaez went to his cabin below decks to sleep.
And, of course, to dream.
* * * * *
“How many were there? Did you have a chance to count?” asked Halloran.
The youth, Jhatli, looked at him suspiciously. Intelligence gleamed in the lad’s eyes, but so too did anger and hatred. I can’t blame him for that, Hal thought.
Along with Daggrande and Gultec, Hal tried to coax description from the youth. Erixitl slept nearby, exhausted finally by the day’s march. Somewhere overhead, Hal knew, the eagle waited for them. In the morning, they would need to face a difficult decision: head for water, or follow the path of this great bird of prey.
For now, they sat around a small campfire, using some of their precious firewood to light this council. Some of the Maztican scouts had told them Jhatli’s tale, and his heart broke for the pain the young man had suffered. At the same time, anything he could tell them about the nature and tactics of the pursuing horde could prove very useful.
Not as many as my band… less than a thousand. They burst from the rocks as we passed, attacking by surprise. I don’t know of anyone else who escaped,” Jhatli said after a brief pause. “I got away only because I was just returning from my hunt. I was separated from the main group, but I could see them.”
His dark eyes flashed. “We could return and kill them. with your warriors and their silver weapons! They can all be killed!”
“No,” Hal sighed, with a shake of his head. “By now they’ve certainly grown in number. You saw just a small portion of the mob that pursues us.”
The youth’s eyes darkened and his body tensed. Then he settled back, though his voice carried a hint of a sneer. “Very well, but I will kill many of them when 1 get the chance!”
“A warrior, eh?” said Daggrande, the dwarf’s voice uncharacteristically gentle.
“Yes… one who is not afraid to seek a battle!”
“Careful, young man,” Gultec growled, his face grim between the fanged jaws of his jaguar-skull helmet. Jhatli’s eyes widened, then fell to the ground.
“I-I’m sorry,” the young man sighed, his breath ragged.
“I know the fury that compels you to battle,” Halloran told Jhatli, “but that rage must be tempered by wisdom, or it will only destroy you.”
The youth looked at him, anger still flashing in his black eyes. But then he lowered his gaze back to the fire, a weakness suddenly collapsing his posture.
“Come on, lad.” The dwarf, speaking his awkward Nexalan, clapped Jhatli on the shoulder. “Let’s go find something for you to eat.”
Gultec and Halloran sat in silence for a time, the desert growing dark around them. Finally the Jaguar Knight spoke. “It galls me, this constant flight from an enemy we cannot see.”
“And me,” Halloran agreed. “Yet what choice do we have- to stand and die, along with all these people, before a horde of unnatural beasthood?”
“How long must we fly?” Gultec persisted. “Is it right to move farther into the desert? Could not the gods have laid for us a cruel trap, and we will reach the end of this chain of food and water only to starve and perish of thirst?”
“This new valley you found… it sounds as though there is food there, enough to last a long time,” Halloran observed.
“ Indeed there is, and enough land to cultivate. If the water remains, a city could be built there that would rival Nexal.”
“Provided we’re not driven away like a herd of goats,” Hal said bitterly.
“I do not know what goats’ are,” Gultec said, “but I share
your feeling.” The warrior paused a moment before raising a question that had obviously occupied his mind for some time.
“You and your people have used powers in the battles against us-sorcery, you call this. Is there not some sorcery that could