parchment sheets.
'General?' The dwarf stood before his commander, carrying a padded cotton tunic such as the Maztican warriors wore as armor.
'Have you tested the stuff?' The captain-general indicated the armor.
'Yessir. It seems to stop the arrows and darts pretty well. It also takes the sting from a chop with one of those swords-macas, they call 'em. With a buckler, a fellow could protect himself pretty well.'
'And comfort? Encumbrance?'
'Sir, in this heat, these cotton things put a steel breastplate to shame. The men who wore 'em moved faster and farther than those who wore steel.' The dwarf reported on a series of tests he had conducted outside Kultaka while the legion refitted for its next great march.
'Excellent!' Cordell stood up and came around the table to clap Daggrande on the back. 'Have the men outfitted in them. Those that want can keep their steel, but tell them the pace of our marching will pick up.'
'Very well, sir!' Daggrande turned to go as another man entered Cordell's headquarters, which was located in Takamal's palace in the city of Kultaka.
'What is it?' asked the commander, seeing that the newcomer was Kardann.
'I–I wanted to tell you that perhaps I might have been wrong,' offered the assessor tentatively. 'There must be ten thousand Kultakans out there ready to march with us!'
'In fact, there are twice that many.'
'Perhaps — perhaps this is not madness, after all. If the gold of Nexal proves as plentiful as we have been told…' The assessor trailed off, his mind already working the imaginary figures.
'I appreciate the vote of confidence,' said Cordell wryly. 'Now, if you please, I have work to do.'
The next to enter was Darien. She had taken to studying her new spellbook and performing her meditations at night since they had reached Kultaka, so Cordell had seen little of her lately. The sight of her brightened his heart, but she didn't respond to his welcoming smile.
'Have you spoken to Alvarro?' the elfwoman asked.
Cordell sighed. 'Yes. I warned him that a repeat of his flight would cost him his command. He blustered and made excuses. The damnable thing is, I think he knows I don't have anyone who could replace him!'
'It seems he only enjoys the killing when the victim does not fight back,' Darien said scornfully. 'Perhaps you should make an example of him.'
'The Bishou argued against that… hard. He thinks too highly of our captain of horse. By Helm, what I wouldn't give for another Halloran!'
'A loyal one, you mean,' said the elf wryly.
Cordell shrugged. 'I never questioned his loyalty until the Bishou gave him no alternative but flight.'
Darien's eyes flashed. No matter Cordell's opinion, she hated the fugitive rider with a vengeance. He would die for the theft of her spellbook! For now, she, too, shrugged. 'That chief, Tokol, is here,' she noted.
'Send him in.'
The son of Takamal, who had assumed command of the Kultakan forces, entered what had once been his father's palace. 'Welcome, my ally!' boomed Cordell, ushering the warrior forward even as Darien translated.
'We are ready to march with you.' Tokol bowed deeply.
'Splendid. We have but to decide on our route. We shall leave in the morning.' Cordell gestured to the maps. 'Your men tell me that there are two routes to Nexal. One, the longer one, winds across flat country, I'm told. Do you know of these routes?'
'Yes, Captain-General Cordell. But that route is overly fatiguing, with little water. It is unnecessarily long. Instead, I recommend that we take the high trail.'
'This one, here?' On the map, Cordell gestured to a trail that seemed to climb into the mountains west of Kultaka and wind tortuously through high country before emerging in a small valley east of Nexal.
'Yes. We will find water on that road and can cross it in a week of marching. Then, when we come down to this town, we can gather our strength for the approach to Nexal.'
'This town?' Cordell pointed. 'What will we find there? What is it like?'
'It is a little place of no consequence,' explained the chief. 'It is called Palul.'
From the chronicles of Colon:
Below the rising storm clouds, the wind begins to howl.
Naltecona comes to me in the morning, his face haggard and his eyes wide. An unaccustomed tremor creeps into his voice as he speaks.
It seems that he has been given a dream. He speaks of shadows and despair, of the ruin of the True World. Almost as an afterthought, he sees his own death.
But he has decided to strike first. The great Naltecona will administer a blow to crush the invaders before they can reach Nexal. No longer does he fear the man, Cordell, as a god.
He has the twin examples of Kultaka and Payit before him now, and he will not repeat their mistakes. He will plan carefully, inventing a shrewd stratagem to lure the strangers into an inescapable trap.
I cannot speak, or I would warn him that a trap may sometimes ensnare the trapper.
TREACHERY AND DEFIANCE
'What is the meaning of this?' demanded Chical, gesturing to the cloak, boots, and helmet that Poshtli laid on the floor before him.
'I am here to inform you of my withdrawal from the Order of Eagle Knighthood,' explained the warrior stiffly. He and bis venerable mentor stood alone in the darkened sweat lodge. Though it was a hot and sunny day, the heavy log building remained cool and lightless.
Chical stood still, staring at Poshtli for several minutes. The younger man met the gaze with a challenging glare of his own.
'I know that you cannot renounce your order lightly,' Chical said eventually. 'And this makes me fear that the stranger has placed some sorcery over you.'
'No. It is a question of honor. I brought him here, in safety and with good intent. I can no more turn my back on that than you could renounce your responsibilities as leader of the order'
'Are you aware that his companions, his army, are even now marching on Nexal? They have conquered Kultaka and enlisted the defeated warriors of our ancient enemy in their cause against us.'
Poshtli's look of surprise showed that he had been unaware of this fact. Still, his reply came quickly. 'That is not Halloran's army any more than the Eagle Knights are mine. If the strangers attack Nexal, I will fight in the defense of my homeland — as a common warrior, if I must.'
'Your departure means more than simply leaving the order, you understand,' said Chical sadly, gesturing toward the garments at his feet. 'We are not mere strangers now.'
'I understand' agreed Poshtli. 'Now we are enemies.'
'Summon Hoxitl, Kalnak, and Chical' ordered Naltecona. Slaves hastened to obey. 'The rest of you, leave!' A dozen raggedly dressed courtiers scurried from the room, relieved at the opportunity to reclothe themselves in their accustomed finery.
The high priest of Zaltec was the first to arrive, though Hoxitl was closely followed by Chical, captain of the Eagle Knights. Shortly thereafter Kafnak, captain of Nexal's Jaguar Knights, arrived.
The two knights had placed tattered shawls across their resplendent armor. Hoxitl, already dirty, blood- caked, and emaciated, didn't need to do so, since his appearance created no risk of diverting attention from Nahecona's splendor.
'Have you reached a decision about the strangers?' asked Kalnak hopefully. He had been one of the most adamant in advocating an attack against the legion before it reached Nexal.
'Indeed' said the ruler. 'The knowledge has come to me — in a dream — that their leader is indeed a man and not a god. He is not Qotal returned to the True World to claim his throne. He is an invader who must be
