Viperhand

'Nonsense!' Cordell smiled at the Kultakans — the full, ingratiating smile that helped him command, to the death, the loyalty of his men. 'Tell them that we have not conquered them, that we are in fact very sorry so many of their brave warriors have died in battle against us.'

Darien turned and translated as Cordell looked around at Kultaka. The city showed far less opulence than had Ulatos. Unlike the capital of the Payit, many of the structures here had been built for defense. The flat housetops were surrounded by waist-high walls. Windows were small. The streets were still lined with flowers, but the profusion of feathermagic that was so extensive in Ulatos was completely absent here.

It had taken only hours to discover that the Kultakans were much poorer in gold than either their jungle neighbors to the east, or, reputedly, the Nexalans to the west. What few treasures they had were stacked here, willingly offered by the abject sons of the slain war chief.

'The oldest, this one catted Tokol, asks why you show such kindness. Is this how you prepare your captives for sacrifice?' Darien pulled Cordell's attention back to these men. And now his plan for them was complete.

'You are not our enemies! We did not want to attack you. We merely sought passage through your lands, and some food. We are on our way to attack the treacherous Nexalans, whose land lies beyond your own.'

Cordell saw, without surprise, that the Kultakans were intrigued by his reply. Tokol spoke again. 'Surely it is a great tragedy that we did not know this, for the Nexalans are our greatest enemies! It is good that you attack them.'

'And truly, we shall beat them,' replied the captain-general. 'For we have been tested this day against the finest warriors in Maztica!'

Now he saw the heads come up, some measure of pride returning to the sharp-featured faces. Tokol spoke again. 'We offer you what food you desire, and ourselves as slaves. May your march be a success.' Tokol, mimicked by the others, bowed deeply.

'I could never see such men as you reduced to slaves,' objected Cordell, raising his voice. 'No! Indeed, I can only see you as warriors! Proud, strong men, marching against Nexal!'

He had seen the worth of the Payit in battle, and now he found a force of warriors that showed far greater skill, and larger numbers, than the legion of his Payit allies. As he continued, he saw in the faces of Takamal's sons surprise at his words. A faint look of hope in their eyes convinced him that he took the right tack, he sensed that these warriors would do anything to regain their own manliness.

'Will you not join me? Your hosts, added to my legion, will make a splendid spectacle for the march on Nexal!'

Tokol saw no need for hesitation or consultation before he replied.

'We are eternally grateful for the kindness of our conqueror. We offer you whatever captives you need to celebrate your victory. The rest of us shall be proud to march with you to Nexal!'

'Captives?' Cordell suddenly saw their meaning. 'No! We do not slay our enemies to feed our god. Instead, there will be this decree, the one law I will place upon you.'

Now the general's eyes flashed as Darien translated. The Kultakans stood as if spellbound, awaiting his command. 'There is to be no sacrifice among you! Hold your captives as slaves or let them go as you wish. But you may not offer their hearts to your pagan gods!'

Tokol recoiled as if struck. Instinctively he looked up at the nearby temple, as if expecting a bolt to issue forth and strike Cordell dead. But nothing happened.

'Do you understand?' barked the legion's commander.

'It shall be as you command,' said Tokol, with another low bow.

The four Jaguar Knights stood stiffly before Kallict as the priest performed ritual cuts, scarring their earlobes, forearms, and cheeks with short chops of his sharp obsidian dagger. None of the men cried out, of course, for to do so would have betrayed the trust of their vow.

The vow of the Viperhand.

After the ritual scarring, each of them stepped before Hoxitl and knelt. The only sound was the high priest's chant as he pressed his freshly bloodied hand to the chest of each supplicant.

Finally the four stood branded, their spotted cloaks thrown open so that the raw wounds on their chests stood proudly forth.

'You Jaguars have been selected by Kallict for your bravery and your devotion to Zaltec,' said Hoxitl, fastening each in turn with the burning glare of his passionate gaze. 'Your task is simple and direct, and your service will be in the name of Zaltec himself.'

The Jaguar Knights bowed their heads humbly, but the high priest smiled to himself as he saw their bodies tense with excitement.

'There are two people — a woman of Maztica, and a man from the strangers — dwelling in the palace of Naltecona. Zaltec hungers for the man's heart. He wishes to taste of the stranger's blood. The woman, too, must be slain, though she can die in her chambers.

'You are to enter the palace tonight. Kill the woman and bring the man to us. And know that Zaltec shall remember and reward.'

The horse whinnied nervously, and Halloran came instantly awake. Storm had grown fat and lazy on the easy life in the palace, and the horse rarely made any sound of distress or displeasure.

But again that whinny, and this time the alarm in the sound was clear. Indeed, the horse sounded close to panic. Hal felt pressure against his chest and realized he had fallen asleep with the heavy spellbook on top of him. He had been studying it, trying to master a few more of its secrets, when sleep had claimed him.

Then he remembered. Erixitl was gone! All the loneliness and despair came back to him, a wave of hopelessness that left him weak and paralyzed on his bed. Never in his life had he felt so alone, so useless. Roughly he forced the emotion aside, fixing his attention on the disturbance that had awakened him.

Sliding Helmstooth from its scabbard beside his bed, Halloran extended the longsword before him and silently stood. The dim glow of the enchanted longsword's blade barely illuminated the chamber.

A sudden stench assailed his nostrils, reminding him of an inn he had frequented back in Murann. The place had been surrounded by alleycats, and the odor reminded him of the tomcats who sometimes yowled on the fence outside.

A low growl rumbled in the darkness, confirming his suspicions.

'Kirisha!' he cried, and instantly the room was awash in cool, white light. The magic spell allowed him to see and also startled and frightened the intruders.

These, he saw, were a pair of monstrous jaguars. Halloran gaped in shock for a moment, but then his fighting instincts took over. The cats crouched in the doorway to his room, blinking at the light and uttering their deep, rumbling growls. One spread his jaws in a snarl, and Hal grimaced at the huge fangs he saw there.

Storm, in the garden, whinnied in terror, and Hal didn't stop to think. Instead, he charged into combat with an almost welcome sense of release.

Helmstooth pricked one of the jaguars in the shoulder, but then Hal grunted in pain as the other sprang at him, raking his thigh with long, curving claws. 'Damn!' he hissed, limping backward. He lunged into another attack, but both the cats leaned nimbly out of the way.

He heard another sound in the large room beyond his own. More of them! For a moment, his heart filled with panic as he saw two jaguars slinking toward Erix's room. It was with a great sense of relief that he remembered she was gone, safe on the road to Palul.

But that same relief quickly turned to anger. His frustration with her departure, and now a growing sense of outrage at this invasion, galvanized him into action. He feinted at one of the cats and then, as the other lunged toward him, turned to sink the point of his blade into the second cat's well-muscled chest.

As quickly as Hal struck, the first jaguar leaped toward him, and he scrambled desperately backward, barely avoiding a potentially disemboweling slash at his gut. He felt acutely aware of his vulnerability. His steel breastplate hung beside his bed, but he had no chance to don it.

Suddenly the unwounded jaguar sprang into the air, in a powerful leap that drove toward Hal's face. The man twisted out of the way but heard the cat land behind him while the other one crouched, still menacing him from the door.

Hal's reaction was as instantaneous as it was desperate. Knowing the two-sided attack meant certain death