Ironhelm - Douglas Niles [16]
The liquid within was scalding hot, and she dared not move quickly. Finally she reached the square stone building, set among roses and trickling streams of clear water, where the members of the family enjoyed their daily baths. Pushing through a curtain of hanging reeds, she entered the steamy bath chamber.
"More water, Master Callatl," she said quietly.
A strapping youth sprawled in the deep tub, taking no notice of her except to move slightly, allowing her enough space to pour the water without burning him.
She lowered the jug, ignoring the steam rising into her eyes, and carefully poured. Even so, a few drops spattered onto the bather's coppery skin.
Erix felt a sudden chill in the room, despite the steaming bath. The reed torches around the walls seemed to flicker and fade, casting the bathhouse in darker shadows. The girl knew nothing of talonmagic, could not know that sorcery of sinister nature had just settled around her and Callatl, a spell sent by Hoxitl and the Ancient Ones, far away in the Highcave. Nevertheless she stepped cautiously backward, and her hand went unconsciously to the golden feather token, the gift from her father, that still hung from her neck.
"Stupid wench!" The young man sprang to his feet, uncaring of his nakedness. He raised his hand to cuff her, and she instinctively raised the jug to protect her face. The torches flared back to light as the talonmagic waned, but the damage had been done. CaUatl's body twisted from the enormity of his wrath.
His fist crashed into the vessel, striking it from her hands. It shattered on the tile lip of the bathtub, and a jagged shard struck Callatl's knee, drawing blood.
The man stepped from the tub as Erix backed slowly away. She trembled in sudden fright, for she had never seen him so suddenly and irrationally enraged. His face might have been handsome, except for the close set of his eyes and his tight, cruel mouth. "You have teased me for too long, Temptling! Now it is your turn to pay!"
She spun and dashed for the door, but Callatl dove instantly after her. He seized her arm and twisted her to the floor.
"Stop!" she cried, crunching her fist into his already flat nose. Her struggles only served to amuse him. He seized her wrists easily and pressed her against the floor.
"Accept your slavery, Feather Princess!" He hissed the nickname in mockery. He had taunted her with it since noticing, years earlier, her fondness for her feathered token. "My father has been far too gentle with you!"
Real fear seized Erix, a panic that suffused her wiry frame with unnatural strength. She squirmed and jabbed, and suddenly her legs were free, the young man sprawled half across her.
"In the name of the gods, stop!" Her knee flew viciously upward. Callatl shrieked, mindless with agony, heedless of the sound echoing through the garden, around the courtyard and into the sprawling house.
"Beast!" she spat, punching him in the stomach as he rolled away from her. He tumbled through the shards of the pot, cutting his face and arms, but somehow he staggered to his feet. His face twisted with hatred, blood streaming from his forehead and nose, he sprang at the slave girl.
Erixitl picked up a large chunk of the broken jar. She did not notice the feathered god's image, Qotal's full visage, remaining uncracked on the piece of pottery in her hands. Callatl's fingers reached, clawlike, for her face as she slammed the shard into her attacker's throat.
The young noble gurgled helplessly as he dropped to his knees, then sprawled on his face. Dimly, Erix heard the musical tinkling of the curtain parting behind her. She turned to see the dignified face of Huakal, her owner. His patrician features grew pale as he took in the scene.
Erixitl dropped to her knees and kissed the floor as Huakal knelt beside his son. The nobleman swept his cloak of brilliant macaw