Ironhelm - Douglas Niles [23]
"Certainly not. That is a fool's task-at least, a task for fools other than myself." The members chuckled politely. They come closer, Cordell chortled inwardly.
"I ask you, Council of Amn, to fund me on an ocean voyage to Kara-Tur! 1 intend to sail to the west to reach the East!"
Two council members snorted in amusement, one shook his head, and three others remained immobile. Cordell turned to these unmoving ones and pressed on.
"Astrologers and sages have long said such a voyage is possible. Provide me with a dozen sturdy ships, provisions, and trading goods. My ships will carry the pick of the legion. With the support of your offices, I could take to sea in six months, before the first snows."
"But where… how would you sail?" The deep-voiced merchant prince, the one who had greeted Cordell upon his entrance, seemed intrigued.
"West. Actually, slightly south by west. Our Bishou has consulted Helm, patron god of the legion. Also we have sought the advice of the greatest sages on the coast, have conferred with wizards from Waterdeep to Calimport!
"The auguries are splendid. One strident symbol rides above all, in every vision. With each word from our god, the Bishou sees this promise. It dominates the seeking spells of the wizards, provides the theme underlying the speculations of the sages.
"It is an image so strong that we cannot but believe it lies before us on this quest.
"That image, good council members, is gold."
I have them.
"It is settled, then." The old cleric looked approvingly past Huakal to the prize of the past few hours of haggling. Erixitl stood motionless before his gaze, frightened and mystified by the proceedings.
In the months since her struggle with Callatl, little had changed in Erix's life. The young man had slowly recovered, though his voice had been permanently garbled by the girl's blow to his throat. Even worse, Erix's blow to his groin had destroyed his ability to father children. But throughout his son's long and agonized recovery, Huakal had been curiously distant… until this morning.
Then he had summoned her to meet this man, this white-robed cleric of Qotal. Huakal and Kachin, the cleric, spoke at some length in the language of the Payit. She understood little of the conversation between the two men, but she had noticed the cleric paying close attention to her. Now they switched tongues to Kultakan.»
"A chest of cocoa, ten mantles, and two quills of gold dust, then. The girl is yours." Huakal nodded with finality.
Erix's heart sank. She had been sold! Then she thought a moment about the fee that had just been detailed. A man could buy a dozen able-bodied workers for that price!
Huakal turned to Erix, his voice firm. "This is Kachin. He is your new owner. He will be taking you to Payit." She looked at him with her proud, wide eyes, disturbing him. She has never acted like a slave! Huakal thought. She doesn't know what it is to be a slave! But those eyes…
The Kultakan noble walked brusquely past the girl, and she wondered if she saw tears in his eyes.
For a moment, she felt a sincere impulse to embrace him, to thank him or comfort him or say farewell. But even more quickly a sense of panic and foreboding flooded her, and she silently cursed Huakal for sending her away.
True, many nobles would have had her sacrificed without a second thought after such a fight as she had won. Callatl's scars would never heal. She had, in fact, expected, and prepared, to die.
But Huakal had spared her, selling her now instead for some absurd price to a cleric from the far fringes of Maz-tica. She knew little of Payit, other than that it was a land of jungles, swamps, poisonous serpents, and near-savage people.
The strange cleric's odd speech patterns and unusual dress also puzzled and frightened her. He wore a simple white cotton mantle, unadorned. He wore no feathers nor gold nor stones. His skin was very dark, his hair gray and long and tied in a single knot. His face, while creased with many wrinkles, was round and quick to