The chief knew that his encirclement would have meant the annihilation of any Maztican foe. Many of his warriors had fallen to the silver knives and metal-tipped arrows of the soldiers, and he knew there would be much grieving after this fight.
'Even the Payit serve them well,' observed Naloc. Takamal had ordered small, sharp attacks against each side of the enemy position. The strangers' Maztican allies held both flanks of the position without faltering.
'Bah! We send only a diversion against them.' Takamal barely took notice of the natives among the enemy. 'It is the foreigners we must beat — and look, we press them back!'
'And still no sign of their monsters.' Naloc looked anxiously about the field. Neither of them knew fully what to make of the tale of the half-man, half-deer creatures that reputedly helped the strangers to rout the Payit. The stories had seemed fantastic, yet the defeat of the Payit couldn't be questioned.
'If they appear, so be it. We are ready.'
As if in reply to Takamal's challenge, they saw the objects of their curiosity erupt from a narrow draw with shocking speed.
'By Zaltec, it's true!' whispered Naloc in awe.
Takamal did not answer. He stared in amazement, but without fear, at the thundering creatures. The man- forms grew right out of their backs, he could see. They came in four waves, about ten of the monsters in each. Around them dashed shaggy, slavering beasts with long white fangs and bristling spiked collars. They reminded Takamal of coyotes, but they were much larger and more savage of aspect. Also, these beasts fought with every bit as much bravery as the soldiers, leaping against the warriors and tearing with their savage jaws.
The great beasts and their smaller companions raced forward, up the smoothest ground in the center of the pass. Each of the monsters carried a long spear — the longest spears Takamal had ever seen — and the force of their charge carried them like a landslide into the first ranks of the Kultakan warriors.
The warriors didn't even slow them down. Takamal saw with grudging admiration how the beasts tore a swath of death through his beautiful feathered ranks. Later, he knew, he would suffer for the broken bodies left in the wake of the attack, but now his mind worked rapidly, searching for the proper counter stroke.
'There!' he said, pointing along the route of the charge. 'They come as we had hoped.'
'Your wisdom once again shows the blessings of Zaltec,' marveled Naloc, with an awestruck look at his chief. It had been Takamal who had guessed that the monsters, if they appeared, would attack along the stretch of smooth ground.
And it was here that the Kultakan leader had laid his trap.
Alvarro grinned as his lance tore through the feathered shield of a Kultakan warrior. His horse thundered forward, eagerly trampling the panicking spearmen before them. Beside him, the ranks of the lancers spread apart. Now they advanced in a line that meant death for any native warrior unfortunate enough to stand in its path.
The captain rode at the fore, urging his charger to keep just a neck ahead of the rest of the line. His black armor distinguished him, but his helmet also trailed a black streamer, insuring that his men could see him anywhere on the field — his men, and the enemy, too, Alvarro thought with a look at the fleeing natives before him.
The savages were breaking! His heart pounded with excitement as he saw that his riders would carry the battle. He struck again, and this time the lance was torn from his hand, stuck in the body of its victim. The rider pulled his long-sword, as most of the horsemen around him had also done.
The charge carried the riders onto the lower slopes of the ridge. Soon they would reach the warriors surrounding Daggrande's company, relieving the encircled legionnaires.
The horseman didn't see the tall pole, with its banners of bright feathers, dip and wave atop the ridge. He wouldn't have understood the command that the gesture issued, in any event — But he saw its results.
The charge continued, though the smooth ground gave way to rougher terrain. Sheer momentum carried them onward, until suddenly Alvarro found himself among rocks and brush instead of the open field. From behind this cover swarmed a nightmare attack that stopped the cavalry charge cold.
Alvarro gaped in astonishment as a huge spotted cat, bigger than any leopard, leaped onto a rock. With a shrill cry of rage, the beast exposed long fangs and curved, wicked claws. Still snarling, the cat leaped.
Instinctively Alvarro brought his sword up, but it was the equally instinctive reaction of his horse that saved him. The steed reared backward in panic, and with its front hooves, it struck the feline to earth. The cat crouched, snarling, and Alvarro saw to his horror that more and more of the creatures were emerging from cover to spring on his unsuspecting riders.
'Back!' Captain Alvarro howled, his voice shrill. 'Away from these devils!' He struck one of the creatures on its skull, killing it. At the same time, he saw a horse stumble and fall to the earth under the weight of several cats. The rider, screaming in terror, was torn from the saddle and quickly disappeared beneath a nightmarish tangle of claws and fangs.
The horsemen desperately pulled away, and in moments, the line thundered backward in full retreat. Not a steed escaped without raked, bleeding flanks and legs.
Once again Alvarro led his riders, this time in terrified flight. Flecks of spit drooled from his lips as he choked back the inarticulate fear. But he could not pull his reins.
'Helm curse him!' snarled Cordell, his stomach turning to a knot as Alvarro turned away from the jaguars. 'The worthless dog!'
'Who could stand against those devils?' challenged Bishou Domincus. 'They are clearly the work of their foul gods!'
'Did either of you see that?' asked Darien coldly. Her voice got the men's attention abruptly.
The trio stood on a small rise, below the slope where the battle raged. Cordell, knowing that the survival of Daggrande's company itself was at stake, turned to her in annoyance.
'See what? What are you talking about?'
'Up there,' the wizard said, pointing coolly. Darien's shocking white skin showed as she raised her hand to point toward the ridgetop. Normally she disliked exposing any patch of her skin to the sun, but the heavy overcast of the day spared her discomfort.
'That feathered pole?' asked Cordell, his mind quickly grasping Darien's meaning, if not her intent. 'That must be the war chief. The Payit did the same thing.'
'A great chief,' mused the wizard. 'That was a clever trap, and it was his pole that signaled the attack.'
Cordell looked skyward again, his black eyes flashing. 'I see what you mean,' he breathed softly.
'Of course!' Takamal, carefully watching the battle, saw the horseman fall and instantly understood the monsters. 'They are only beasts that carry men into battle!'
His heart surged, full of pride at the noble attack of his Jaguar Knights. Dozens had been slain beneath the feet of the lumbering beasts, but still they pressed their attack. And now the riders had been pushed back!
'Magnificent!' whispered Naloc. 'Zaltec has smiled upon us this day.'
'Perhaps he will smile upon us,' cautioned the chief. 'But the attack isn't broken yet. Witness how the silver soldiers resist, even when surrounded.' He gestured toward the field below, where the circle of swordsmen still stood amid the howling mass of Kultakan warriors. For many minutes, they had been cut off from the rest of the legion, yet no more than a dozen had fallen — and at the cost of many hundreds of Kultakan dead.
'Now! Signal the advance!' barked Takamal.
Two of his signalmen raised banners, each of which glowed bright crimson under the heavy gray sky. The pennants streamed in the slight wind, stretching weightlessly into the air. For a moment, the battle paused as the Mazticans took note of the command fluttering from the knoll atop the ridge.
But then they saw something else up there. Naloc, and Takamal himself, whirled in astonishment as a figure suddenly appeared on the ridgetop, barely thirty feet away.
The newcomer was a woman, Takamal saw — a woman with shockingly pale skin, and hair the color of snow. She wore a dark robe, but now the wind whipped that robe away from her body and he saw the bleached skin on her arms, her legs, her torso.
He saw, too, that she was very beautiful, in an icy sort of way. A golden circlet surrounded her brow, and her high cheekbones suggested nobility. Her eyes were wide, pale… and empty.
'By Zaltec!' gasped Naloc. The cleric seized his sacrificial dagger and held the stone blade over his head,
