Ironhelm - Douglas Niles [119]
"As you wish." Caxal nodded again and hurriedly slipped out the door.
"Do the men have comfortable quarters?" Cordell asked, turning to Daggrande.
"Indeed, General. Splendid. Food is plentiful. The Payit have no ales nor spirits," admitted the dwarf wistfully. "This 'octat they drink has a most pungent aroma and curious taste. But the men have made the most of it."
"We will remain here for two days. We'll let the men enjoy themselves a bit, find some women, that sort of thing. Go easy on them if they get a little out of control. One other thing, though, Captain. Any legionnaire caught hoarding gold is to be thrown in irons and displayed in the plaza as a lesson to his fellows. See that the word is passed.
"Then, Captain, I have a task that will require your special abilities." Daggrande looked at his general quizzically, and Cordell smiled slightly as he explained. "I wish to build a fort beside the anchorage where the fleet stands. You will be in charge of the construction, rotating half of the legion on work detail while the others stand to arms."
Daggrande nodded in quick comprehension. "Good choice, sir. That rocky hill just back from the shore?"
"Exactly. But we'll need a jetty, too. Later, perhaps, a breakwater, but for now, we'll start with a breastwork and a place to dock a carrack. Now, enjoy some time before I put you to work."
The dwarf nodded and clumped away. Captain Alvarro stepped in as his comrade departed.
"Ah, Captain," began the commander. "I will tell you why I have summoned you. We have been accepted rather prettily here, but I believe one more gesture is necessary to ensure the lasting obedience of the Payit."
"Yes, General? What do you suggest?"
"I want you to observe these warriors we have in captivity. Find four or five that show some spirit, that seem like leaders. Bring them to me, in the plaza before this house, this evening hence." The captain-general smiled grimly at his lieutenant, his eyes glittering like black sapphires.
"We will make sure that the warriors of Ulatos remember that they have been conquered by the Golden Legion."
From the chronicle of Coton:
As darkness gathers around the shores of Nexal.
Zaltec holds all of Maztica in thrall. Qotal tantalizes us with the promise of his return, with the sign of the couatl, with the visions to the Eagle Knight, but he gives no sign of arrival. And now an Ancient One is abroad in the land.
He follows his pack of hounds-black, fiery beasts from the netherworld, the world of Zaltec and the Darkfyre-and he seeks to kill the future before it can begin. For thus can Zaltec's triumph be assured.
But now the Ancient One moves with fear as well, for the pieces of the future are falling into place. He must slay her, and he must keep his nature a secret. Even the Ancient Ones, it seems, fear the might of the strangers.
The girl is still a child of p'tuma› and, too, she is the beneficiary of unpredicted aid. The white man accompanies her not as conqueror but as companion. Together they challenge the darkness, but that darkness is vast, and they are very small indeed.
HELMSPORT
"What happened to you?" gasped Erix, leaning back to stare at the towering figure of Halloran.
"The potion… one of the small bottles! It must have been a potion of growth!" Erix clapped her hands over her ears, and Hal looked around self-consciously, imagining the echoes of his deep voice rumbling through the narrow, stonewalled gorge. He squatted in the grotto, noting that the light spell had vanished sometime during the fight.
"And that… thing that attacked you… I couldn't see it! What was that?" Erix stepped closer to Halloran, hesitantly reaching upward and touching his knee as if to ascertain that he really stood before her. Even squatting, he still loomed over her, but at least their faces were closer. He made an effort to speak quietly.
"I don't