Ironhelm - Douglas Niles [57]
The pyramid raised the lone cleric high above the houses of Nexal, and he allowed his gaze to linger in each of the four directions. Toward each side of the table-sized altar he laid an assortment of colorful blossoms. Then he raised the door on the cage.
One after another, the butterflies fluttered from the cage, bouncing erratically through the air, climbing away from the pyramid. Butterflies of every bright hue imaginable took to the air. One by one they climbed into the sky, like a dazzling thread of color reaching from the altar to the heavens.
And then they were gone. Coton, his spirit tingling after the ceremony, quickly descended from the pyramid. He was not surprised to see Lord Poshtli waiting in the courtyard below.
Naltecona's nephew wore the full regalia entitled to him as an Eagle Warrior. His lower lip, drilled long ago, now held a plug of pure gold. His mantle and headdress blazed with a riotous array of plumage. New sandals covered his feet, bound all the way to his knees. A fan of pluma swirled over his head, shading him and ruffling his finery with a faint breeze.
"Coton of Qotal, I wish to speak to you. You know many things about the True World, and I know little. Perhaps all I know is that I need to learn."
The mute cleric paused for several seconds, studying the young lord. Poshtli had studied under Coton years ago, before the cleric had become a patriarch and taken his vow. The lad had been the brightest of Colon's students and a natural leader of the other, even bigger and stronger, boys. The priest of Qotal had been pleased to watch him grow to manhood.
Poshtli had shown the same sentiments for the cleric. Whereas most youths who aspired to warriorhood soon slashed their arms in penance and sought captives for the altar of Zaltec, Poshtli had turned instead to the path of the Plumed God. He sought the Eagle Knighthood, highest and most exalted military order of all Maztica.
The Jaguar Knights all followed Zaltec because the hishna magic of the claw required blood sacrifice, and without this power the Jaguar Knight was nothing. Warriors of the Eagle creed, however, could worship the god of their choice, and many chose Qotal. But the many years of study, the harsh tests-both mental and physical-and the rigorous discipline caused nine of ten aspiring Eagles to fall short of their lofty goal.
Even among such as these, Poshtli shone as a man of exceptional skill, valor, and intelligence. He had captured many prisoners in battle, prisoners who gave their hearts to the altars of Zaltec or were sold into slavery in the great plaza. Recently he had commanded the army of Nexal on a mission of reconquest: the subject state of Pezelac-a valuable source of obsidian, salt, and gold-had shown signs of rebellion. Poshtli's army had done a prompt job of punishing the rebellious elements while swiftly resuming the trib- ute paid by Pezeiac to Nexal.
Now Colon sensed that the lord faced a crucial choice. Though the cleric could not speak to him, he could still listen.
"My uncle, the great Naltecona, has become the greatest of the great." Poshtli spoke softly. "He is mightier than any counselor in the long history of Nexal. Never have our people collected such tribute, held sway over such vast regions."
Cotton nodded. He knew Poshtli to be a brave warrior, but also unusually perceptive. He displayed a sense of thoughtful deliberation that Colon found exceedingly rare in the younger warriors. The cleric waited for the warrior to continue.
"Our city grows daily, claiming more and more land from the waters as the floating gardens extend their reach. More treasure, more cocoa and mayz and feathers-and more gold-all flow into mighly Nexal, Heart of the True World. More hearts are offered in sacrifice lo Zallec lhan ever before.
"Yel you, Colon, you