native army.
The captain-general once again turned his eyes to the plain beside the delta, where thousands of warriors, under many dozens of colorful banners, pennants, and fans, gathered to await them. They remained perhaps a mile back from the beach, within easy striking distance.
Beyond the plain rose the high white buildings of the city. Particularly intriguing was the tallest pyramid, with its green gardens draping in elegant terraces down its broad sides. High atop the pyramid, a crystalline fountain shimmered and gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
'General, why should we not remain aboard the ship tonight and land the entire legion in the morning? We leave ourselves terribly exposed to night attack!' The speaker was Garrant, the captain commanding a company of sword-and-buckler men. He raised objections running through the minds of many of the men.
'We land tonight precisely to show them we are not afraid!' Cordell answered forcefully, but he clearly welcomed the question. His voice softened. 'I know, Captain Garrant, that your men will bear the brunt of such an attack should it develop. I am gambling that it will not. I can afford the gamble because I know your company will protect the legion if I am wrong.'
Pleased with the compliment, the captain nodded his understanding, if not his approval, of the plan.
'My lord general?' asked a plaintive voice. Cordell turned, gritting his teeth, to regard the weasel-faced accountant, Kardann.
'Yes?'
'The treasure, my lord! I beg you to consider the treasures we have already gained. We carry a small fortune in gold nuggets and crude ornaments from the islanders!' Kardann bobbed his head as he spoke, with frequent glances toward the shore.
'Should we not see that treasure safely out to sea?' he blurted. 'Not held here, close to shore, where the savages could swarm out in their canoes and take it?'
Cordell looked at the assessor in astonishment. 'It's preposterous to think they could claim even one of our ships by force! I'll have no more such talk!' The assessor's words may already have caused a distraction, he feared — at a time when he needed the entire concentration of his men directed toward the upcoming conflict.
Cordell half-turned toward the afterdeck, then changed his mind. Normally he would ask the Bishou to bestow Helm's blessing upon this undertaking, but Domincus still muttered and paced, staring intently landward. Cordell feared his address could do more harm than good. Get hold of yourself, man! he silently willed. I need you. The legion needs you!
'It's the deserters themselves!' howled Domincus, suddenly pointing to a small craft approaching the anchored flagship. Cordell and the captains stepped to the gunwale and saw a native canoe emerging from the nearby stands of delta trees. Halloran and Daggrande were plainly visible, alone in the boat.
'Bishou Domincus, we must talk,' said Cordell quietly.
Even hushed, his voice had the strength of a steel rod. The captains stirred behind him, and the general knew that he needed to tread carefully between the vengeful cleric and the pragmatic needs of his men.
The Bishou glared at Cordell suspiciously, but he knew enough not to bluster loudly before the legionnaires. 'Surely you don't mean to welcome them back!' he hissed in disbelief. 'The young man was guilty of criminal cowardice in allowing my daughter to be slain. And both of them deserted our men in the face of enemy attack!' The cleric's voice grew shrill with his anger.
I cannot antagonize him now. I need him tomorrow. Cordell sighed, a heavy and obvious gesture. 'Your daughter's death is a great tragedy, my friend. And to be sure, she had been entrusted to young Halloran's care at the time. This, then, must mark against him.
'But he is a skilled lancer, a natural horseman, and a brave soldier. And Daggrande is my best captain! You cannot claim both of these warriors on the eve of battle!'
'But the guards told us! They disappeared during — '
'They were snatched by sorcery! Even through your anger, you should recognize that!' The Bishou turned away sullenly as Cordell continued. 'I will give you Halloran, in chains. After the battle, you can punish him as you deem fit. But Daggrande goes free, with no sanction from you. And you will not refer to either of these men as cowards, in my presence or in the presence of any member of the legion. Do I make myself clear?'
Obey me! The captain-general focused his will and his command upon the cleric. We need you, Bishou. But we need Daggrande, too.
'Very well,' Domincus grunted. 'I want Halloran clapped in irons and locked below. I will say nothing to the men. I have no need to punish the dwarf.'
'Good.' Cordell nodded, still annoyed that his lieutenant's vengeance would cost him a good officer. 'Now let us see to the landing.'
The Bishou joined the captains, and Cordell summoned his cabin boy. The lad listened carefully while his commander outlined the preparations to be made in fashioning a cell belowdecks for Halloran.
The golden eagle banner fluttered proudly atop the Falcon's mainmast. Halloran felt a surge of emotion as he approached that flag and the ship below it. Tears clouded his eyes, and he saluted the pennant as the canoe drew alongside the Falcon. Shame, too, threatened to overwhelm him. The tragedy of Martine's loss weighed heavily on his mind. He did not know what to expect when he boarded the flagship.
The carrack rode quietly on the placid lagoon, and Daggrande and he had no difficulty ascending the rope ladders dropped to them from the deck above.
Halloran stopped in shock as he stepped aboard the Falcon's deck. Without a word, four brawny sergeants seized him and clapped metal cuffs about his wrists and ankles.
Hal bit his tongue. He saw the glowering figure of Bishou Domincus beyond his guards and suspected the explanation. Perhaps he deserved no better treatment, he told himself.
'Here, now!' growled Daggrande, turning to defend his friend. But captain-general Cordell stepped up to him and raised a placating hand. The dwarf glowered suspiciously at his commander. Cordell's words struck Halloran with greater force than any physical blow could possibly deliver.
'Captain Halloran, you are charged with desertion in the face of the enemy. You will have a chance to speak in your own defense after the matters of tomorrow are resolved. Until then you are confined to a brig belowdecks of the Falcon'
Cordell looked Halloran squarely in the eyes as he spoke. The young man sought some hidden message there, some gleam of communication that would tell him that Cordell knew he was not a coward, would not have fled a battle. This man's high regard meant more to Halloran than anything in the world.
But instead he saw inky-black depths that showed him only the strength of the commander's murky soul.
'Your sword, sir!' Cordell's voice strained as he barked at Halloran.
Numbly the young captain ungirded Helmstooth. Slowly, looking at the weapon in disbelief, he handed it to his commander. Cordell turned away from him, setting the weapon aside before turning back to the assembled legionnaires.
'Command of the Pennant Lancers is conferred to Captain Alvarro, effective immediately.'
Halloran heard his unit transferred to the oily hands of the unscrupulous horseman, a final outrage as he stepped through the hatchway toward his dark and musty cell.
IMPRISONED
The desert stretched in all directions, bleak, dry, and hot. Where once Poshtli had seen a myriad of wondrous colors, hues of gold and red and brown in a million varieties of shadow and light, now he saw only emptiness, wasteland, and death.
His waterskin had been empty for days. No stranger to the desert, the Eagle Knight had survived by hacking the plump cactus known as the Sand Mother wherever he could find it. The sweet moisture within the plant had sustained him until the desert became so dry that even the Sand Mother could not live.
Poshtli's eagle-feather mantle spread around him as he slumped to the ground. He squeezed a handful of
