Ironhelm

CHITIKAS

The eagle soared easily on the coastal updrafts. Far below, heavy breakers pounded a stretch of beach that vanished into the distance to the north and south.

The bird suddenly thrust its wings once and again, gaining speed and swooping into a dive. The air became moist with drifting spray, but the eagle's keen eyes penetrated the haze, studying the strange shapes on the water.

The eyes were those of an animal, but the mind that absorbed those sights was human. The Eagle Knight in avian form was Lord Poshtli, nephew of the great Naltecona himself, now flying a mission of observation for the Revered Counselor.

The eagle passed once above the cloudlike forms, carefully examining them. Still hundreds of feet in the air, the bird flew silently, unnoticed from below.

Then it dove toward the sea, a long, swooping descent that quickly propelled the powerful animal at blinding speed. The massive wings beat again, a steady cadence of power. Now the eagle climbed slowly, never wavering from a straight course, gaining only the elevation needed to cross the mountains that lay invisible beyond the horizon ahead.

It flew northwest, toward distant, iridescent Nexal.

Erix scrambled through the brush, ignoring the sharp thorns tearing at her limbs, mindful only of the desperate need to flee the deadly altar of Zaltec. She used the sacrificial knife to hack some of the encroaching vegetation away, but the stone blade proved an inefficient means of clearing a path. Mostly she just pushed her way between branches, occasionally diving headfirst through a tangle of vines.

After two desperate minutes of flight, she paused, stifling her own gasps in an effort to listen for pursuit. A bird cackled somewhere nearby, hidden by foliage. Fat insects buzzed around her head.

But there was no sound of even vaguely human origin. For long moments, Erix stood still, listening to the sounds of the jungle. Vaguely, in the distance, she could hear the dull roar of the surf.

The sound of the ocean reminded her of the great, winged things she had seen. For some reason she had already begun to doubt that they were creatures. Whatever they were, she knew their appearance had saved her life.

For a full minute, Erix stood still, wondering at the lack of pursuit. Surely they had noticed her escape! The strange objects offshore, she finally concluded, must be holding the priests and the Jaguar Knight in some kind of thrall.

Again she wondered at the spectacle, her curiosity beginning to overcome her fear. She gained her bearings, remembering that the ocean lay generally behind her. Moving slower, with more stealth than during the initial rush of her flight, she turned to the left and began to move parallel to the shore.

The pyramid of Zaltec gradually fell away behind her, and she became immersed in the heavy, wet jungle. Soaked with her own sweat, ignoring the flies and mosquitoes that buzzed around her, she laboriously worked her way to the south. Finally she emerged upon a narrow trail, and here she turned again, striking eastward for the coast.

Erixitl's arms bled from dozens of scrapes, and the thorns had torn her cotton gown into a tattered rag. But now she pushed quickly forward, forgetting all of her present difficulties in her desire to look again upon the great wings over the ocean.

At last she pushed through the dripping fronds of a thick fern and found herself near the edge of the coastal bluff. A strip of brushy ground lined the edge of the precipice, but her curiosity overcame caution. Carefully she crawled through the brush to the edge of the cliff. Worming forward, secure in the shelter of a dense tangle, she looked out toward the ocean.

The white wings of the sea — things now hung limp, smaller than when she had first seen them. Though the objects were well to her left, a mile or more away, she could see more details.

Instantly she understood; These were great vessels, like unthinkably massive canoes, and they were filled with men. Even as she watched, she saw smaller craft — more like true canoes, though still larger than the slender boats plying the waters of Maztica — drift away from the great vessels. Like great whales giving birth, each of the large craft disgorged one of the smaller boats, and these began moving slowly toward the shore.

Erixitl's sense of wonder grew. Was this a miracle in progress before her? Where did these visitors come from? Certainly they did not originate in the True World. She could see tiny manlike figures among the strangers, but she could not believe that these were actually human beings like herself. Could they be the messengers of the gods? Or even the gods themselves?

"Pretty girl!"

A voice, speaking crude Payit, jerked her attention back to reality. Erix swung around and raised the knife, but she could see nothing. Her back to the steep bluff, she scrutinized the surrounding vegetation.

"Oh, she's got a knife, too! Look out, look out!" The voice sounded amused.

"Who's there?" she hissed, crouching.

"We're all here, eh, pretty one?" A sudden burst of color startled her. She gasped, almost dropping the knife, as a brightly feathered bird exploded from the bush before her, squawking upward to rest among the fronds of a palm. "She's scared now!" Her jaw dropped as she realized that the mysterious voice belonged to a macaw.

"I'm not scared! You startled me, featherbrain!" She tossed her head at the bird, feeling sheepish. She had heard of macaws and parrots that could mimic the sound of human voices. Then she realized with a chill that the bird had not mimicked any sound. It had remarked about things it had observed, such as her knife!

"Smart bird, that he is," lisped another voice, a low, sibilant sound emerging from a leafy bush.

Erix turned with a gasp as she saw a long, brightly colored head emerge from the greenery. It was followed by a snake's neck and a portion of a serpentine body coiling smoothly forward, slender but supple and wiry. Yet the snake eyes gleamed at her with intelligence, even perhaps a little amusement.

"A lucky girl you are today, Erixitl." The creature spoke again, its snake lips pursing softly as a black, forked tongue slipped in and out of its mouth. "Lucky girl because I am here.

"And I am Chitikas."

Tenth day following landfall, aboard the Falcon

Helm has granted us a splendid anchorage, a deep lagoon surrounded by encircling headlands. A rugged coast greets us, distinguished in particular by two monstrous images carved into the rocky bluff.

Each of these presents a human visage, apparently a male and female, many times the height of a man. At the top of the bluff stands a squat structure, pyramidal in shape.

We move quickly to put the legion ashore, leaving bare crews to tend the ships. The footmen claim the ground even now; in some hours, we will debark the horses.

"Who could have made them?" wondered Halloran, awestruck. The growing light of day revealed a pair of huge faces carved into the cliff before them.

"Look at them!" murmured an unusually subdued Martine, taking Hal's arm in unconscious excitement.

He thought uncomfortably how that touch would have thrilled him a few days before. Now Martine's hand felt like a cold iron shackle, closing around his flesh. Her attentions, which once had exhilarated him, now confined and enclosed him more securely with each bubbling phrase, each coy look.

She had stayed at his side constantly during the three days she had been aboard the Osprey — except, of course, when they slept. Hal had willingly offered his cabin, the only private lodging on the ship, and she had accepted it as her due. He had spent the last three nights with the horses and dogs under the crude deck shelter, and he had come to appreciate those hours as his only free time.

Daggrande had avoided them as much as possible — no mean trick on the ninety-foot carrack — and Martine's incessant talking had begun to ring in his ears even in his dreams. Perhaps this landing would give him an opportunity to be a soldier again, but he doubted it.

The fleet stood offshore, resting easily at anchor. Halloran and Martine stood at Ospreys rail as the longboat was lowered toward the crystalline azure waters. Bright flashes of color, schools of exotic fish, darted among the coral.

But their attention remained fixed upon the gargantuan faces. They showed a male and a female, each with a broad mouth and wide nose. The faces were flat and rounded, and even the male was unbearded. The eyes, though mere carvings in granite, seemed to stare at the ships with keen scrutiny.

"Your father says these people do not know of the gods," said Halloran. "I look at these faces and I cannot help but disagree."

Martine shrugged. "Well, let's go!" she said, nodding at the longboat, which now floated beside the Osprey.

Halloran groaned inwardly. "We've talked about this! You'll have to wait here until we've scouted the shoreline!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Martine turned toward the longboat.

"You can't go ashore with the first swords!" Halloran began to panic. She stepped to the short rope ladder dangling from the gunwale, and he followed helplessly. She smiled up at him as she descended with natural grace.

"Well, at least stay close to the boats!" he grunted, swinging onto the ladder as she sat in the stern of the little craft.

Halloran felt the same mixture of emotions that had belabored him for the three days since Martine had boarded the Osprey. Her beauty taunted him as she dazzled him with a smile, but he felt absolutely powerless in her presence, and this frightened him. The combination of emotions made him miserable.

Not to mention the matter of her father. The Bishou was a central pillar of the legion's morale, a spiritual authority to match Cordell's unerring generalship. And he served, faithfully as far as Halloran knew, a stern and unforgiving deity. True, the power of Helm had healed Hal's wounds when Domincus had prayed to the Vigilant One. But Halloran felt it a grave risk to incur the wrath of the Bishou.

Hal accepted Helm as much as he accepted the idea of any god. In truth, the god of eternal vigilance offered a useful comfort to a man-at-arms such as himself. But was he now inviting the god's disfavor by… what was he doing, anyway? He simply allowed Martine to have her way about things, and he knew there was nothing he could do to change that.

With a sigh, he turned to the bow and looked at those monstrous faces, now leering down at them as the boals glided into the shadow of the bluff.

"Wake up, you miserable dolt!" Gultec kicked the cleric none too gently.

Mixtal squinted and groaned, barely seeing the snarling jaguar face leering into his own. "What… what happened?… Where's the girl?"

"Gone. Her fighting prowess apparently overwhelmed you."

"How did — "Mixtal suddenly sat up, ignoring the stabbing pain in his skull. "The signs from Zaltec! Where are they?"

"Not signs from Zaltec, idiot." Gultec gestured to the east as Mixtal realized that he had been carried to the base of the pyramid. "They are men, warriors, even now gathering on our shore in great numbers."

Mixtal blinked and stared. Cold terror vied with incoherent awe in his breast. He feared the retribution of the Ancient Ones, for he had let the girl escape. At the same time, he now witnessed a miracle, or thought he did.

"What makes you so sure they're warriors?" he demanded. "They look like messengers from the gods to me!"

Gultec cast a contemptuous look at the cleric. "They sent their scouts ashore first. These investigated the forest around the beach. Now see how their numbers unfold on the sand, and they gather in organized companies."

"But they have no feathers! No clubs! And look, some of them are silver!"

Gultec growled inaudibly at the vista far below. "It troubles me, this silver. I do not see why a warrior would burden himself with such a weight. It makes me suspect they are very strong."

The Jaguar Knight turned to the priest. "Stay here and watch them, but do not let yourselves be seen. I will speed to Ulatos and warn the counselor."

Mixtal nodded dumbly as Gultec turned and trotted toward the edge of the forest on the inland side of the pyramid. In seconds, the Jaguar Knight passed from sight among the tangled branches. He placed his hands upon a horizontal trunk, vaulting easily over it to land on four soft paws. His spotted hide blended with the jungle as he sprang forward with feline grace and speed.

Soon Gultec took to the trees. He leaped from branch to branch across dizzying gaps, sinking his claws into hardwood at each sturdy bough.

Quickly the jaguar retraced the trail that had taken the human party two hours to traverse, then shifted back to his human body before emerging from the jungle. Even as he stepped onto the trail among the mayz fields, he saw that word of the strange visitors must have preceded him: No one worked in the fields, but ahead the streets of Ulatos bustled with uncharacteristic activity.

Gultec maintained a steady trot into the city. The throng naturally parted for the Jaguar Knight, and in moments he had reached Ulatos Plaza.

"Gultec, come here!" The voice called from the small pyramid in the center of the plaza, and the knight saw Caxal, the Revered Counselor of Ulatos, frantically gesturing to him. Gultec quickly climbed the twelve steps to the top of the platform, seeing that several other Jaguar and Eagle Knights, as well as the cleric Kachin, were standing there with Caxal.

"We have been invaded!" raged the counselor.

Gultec nodded. "I have seen them myself — strange men traveling in great canoes. They gather on the shore below Twin Visages. They are mysterious, but their numbers are small."

"We do not know that this is an invasion!" insisted a third voice, and Gultec turned to regard Kachin, cleric of Qotal. "We must try to speak with them, to see who they are and what they want."

Caxal looked from Kachin back to Gultec. "How many troops can we gather today?" The Revered Counselor tended to be suspicious of his warriors, but now he was frightened, and his fear took priority.

"Perhaps two hundred Jaguars, as many Eagles." The Jaguar Knight looked to Lok, Gultec's counterpart as chief of the Eagle Knights.

"Perhaps… certainly more than a hundred," Lok said thoughtfully. Though the two warriors were not friends, each respected the other as a man of bravery, skill, and judgment.

"We can have ten thousand spearmen gathered by evening, perhaps twice that many by tomorrow," concluded the Jaguar Knight.

"Gather them," said Caxal with finally. "Bring the troops to the top of the bluff, near the Twin Visages. But do not attack! We must learn more about them!" The group broke up, but Kachin stepped to Gultec's side before the knight could leave the platform.

"The girl, Erixitl," hissed Kachin, his eyes blazing with a vengeful fire that Gultec found strangely disquieting. "I have learned that you took her, you or your lackeys. Her death will not go unpunished!"

The knight, a man of steely courage, a veteran battle commander, squirmed under the cleric's steady gaze.

"I don't know what you mean," Gultec mumbled, hurrying down the stairs, cursing all clerics and their gods.

Chitikas emerged from the concealing verdure, and Erix stood numb with astonishment. She saw first that the serpent's skin was not covered with scales, but instead with the brilliant, silky type of down found upon the breast of a parrot. The macaw that had first spoken to Erix stood motionless, watching as the snake undulated forward.

Her astonishment grew as a pair of huge wings, brilliantly plumed in red, gold, green, and blue, broke free from the leafy bower, fluttering very slowly. They emerged from the serpent's midsection, extending a man's height to each side. The snake assumed a weightless quality as more and more of its enormous length appeared, for no portion of its visible body rested upon the ground.

The serpentine shape drifted into aimless coils, slowly writhing in the air, while the wings continued their slow cadence. Its brilliant yellow eyes bored into Erix, yet she felt no menace in the gaze. Hesitantly, needing to relieve her numbed muscles, she sat on a rotten log.

"You have troubles," whispered the creature. "Perhaps I can help you."

"Sure, help!" The macaw squawked its approval of the plan, fluttering down to rest on the snake's head.

Erix finally began to relax. Somehow she felt comfortable in the presence of this strange creature. The droning of insects and the heavy warmth of the afternoon air seemed to soothe her. She sighed. The snake's eyes bored into her, seeming to whirl in opposite directions. Its body moved with liquid ease in a slow dance.

"I come from Nexala," she said dreamily. "Very far from here." And before she could continue, she was asleep.

Mixtal groaned again in soul-wrenching agony. The Ancient Ones would slay him, he knew, but not until an eternity of torment had been inflicted upon his miserable person. He barely noticed the twenty apprentices standing in an awkward circle around him, but gradually he sensed that they awaited his instructions, his leadership.

Several of the youths kept watch over the strange visitors, who as yet had made no effort to climb the bluff. Nevertheless, Mixtal was certain that, after making the journey from wherever they called home, these strangers were not about to limit their explorations to a stretch of wooded shoreline.

It quickly became clear to the cleric that the priests' present location at the base of the pyramid would be one of the first sites investigated by the newcomers when they moved off the beach.

"The girl!" he finally said. "Did anyone see which way she went?"

The priests looked at the ground. Their spikes of stiff hair shook slowly, like a band of porcupines performing a mournful dance.

"Inland," offered one apprentice, a strapping young man named Atax. Mixtal remembered him as one who had wielded the sacrificial knife with exceptional acumen on his initial attempts. Like any apprentice, Atax had made mistakes, requiring the sacrifice to be performed over, even once requiring three victims before the proper cut had been made. But Atax learned quickly, and his strength might now be an asset.

"We must find her!" Mixtal stood quickly. He paused at the edge of the bluff to observe the newcomers — he admitted to himself that they seemed to be men. Their great canoes had furled their wings, and it seemed to the cleric that perhaps a hundred of them had already gathered on the beach.

"Give me your knife," Mixtal demanded, claiming the obsidian blade of a younger apprentice. He tried to ignore the shame of his own blade's loss but felt a flush creeping over his features. "Into the forest! Follow me!"

For many hours of a day that grew hotter with each passing minute, the score of priests combed the jungle along the coast. They pressed eastward for a time, crossing Erix's trail at numerous points, but none of the clerics had the woodcraft to recognize it as such. Then they reversed course, moving back through the beaten zone, as the humid air settled heavily around them and morning became afternoon.

"Let's rest a moment," gasped Mixtal, collapsing against a tree. He noticed with annoyance that none of the apprentices seemed as exhausted as he was. All of their prickly hair spikes had collapsed into tangled mats, however.

"Most Holy One, perhaps we should seek help," suggested Atax tentatively.

"No!" Mixtal stood straight, vigorous once again with the alertness of cold panic. "We must find her! This is our task!"

Atax recoiled from the outburst, and Mixtal took mild satisfaction in that fact. At least there were some who would treat him with respect! Then Mixtal blinked, disbelieving, and watched Atax slide to the ground before him. The man was sleeping!

Raging, Mixtal spun to face his other apprentices. His rage quickly cooled into something approaching fear when he saw that they all slept!

"What's happening here?" he demanded plaintively. "Wake up!"

"Softly, O Holy One," soothed a voice.

"Who's that? Where are you?"

"I will speak and you will listen." The voice coaxed him gently, and Mixtal felt himself slumping to a seat on the ground. He listened.

"Searching for the girl in this fashion is foolish. Instead, you must gather warriors." Mixtal halfheartedly looked for the source of the voice, but he saw only flowers and birds, whirling colors gathering around him. He did not remember the jungle as such a colorful place, but it was really quite beautiful.

"Warriors?" he answered, from a great distance. "How?" Now the priest felt as though his eyes had been covered with a soft glaze, not painful, like looking through colorful smoke when the smoke was inside his eyes.

"Wait here." The voice soothed him further with its reassuring advice. Mixtal could not question the words. "The warriors will come to you. And then, if you look but a short distance, you will find her whom you seek."

And then Mixtal, too, slept, lapsing into a dream filled with singing flowers, talking snakes, and chattering, brilliant-plumed birds. He did not awaken for some time, and then only when he heard a man's guttural question.

"Priest, why do you sleep here?"

"Wha — ?" Mixtal's eyes popped open and he sat up. He saw three Jaguar Knights, including the one who had just spoken, and beyond them a column of spearmen stretching to the limit of the cleric's vision in the undergrowth. Each spearman wore the breechclout typical of the Payit and carried three obsidian-tipped javelins, a caster, and a round shield of jaguar skin mounted over wood. Each had a bone or wooden ornament stuck crosswise through his nose and wore a high headdress of orange feathers.

"Warriors!" Now the priest sprang to his feet animatedly. "Wake up, you louts!" He gave Atax and another apprentice swift kicks. "The warriors are here!"

"You were expecting us?" demanded the knight as the apprentices roused their comrades.

"Do not question the will of Zaltec!" snapped Mixtal. "I have heard directly from the Ancient Ones!" At least, he thought he had. Things were happening so fast that the priest couldn't quite keep up. But he enjoyed the fear that passed across the Jaguar Knight's face at Mixtal's words.

"We have an important task to perform! A sacrifice demanded by Zaltec has escaped and is even now arousing the anger of the god. We must find her!"

"What tale is this?" asked the knight. "We have been sent here, this hundredmen, to keep watch over the invaders. A hundred hundred even now gather to the shore. I know nothing about a sacri — "

"The invaders!" Mixtal's mind seized upon an idea. His eyes still seemed to stare through a shifting haze of smoke, but now his brain whirled with ideas, with command. "Yes, they are the ones. They have taken her from the altar of Zaltec! Don't you understand? They are an affront to our gods! We must reclaim that which is rightfully Zaltec's!"

"I have my orders, from Gultec himself," grunted the knight, nervously.

"Would Gultec want you to stand by idly while our gods are defiled because of a woman taken from us?" Mixtal felt tall, as if the warriors were child-sized people gathered around him.

The knight turned and conferred quietly with the two other Jaguars of his company. Mixtal looked down and saw them gesturing and whispering.

"We must go! I will lead you to the invaders, and you will help me reclaim our property!"

Mixtal started into the jungle, followed by the apprentices. Slowly the column of warriors fell into file behind them.

"There! Let's go with them," urged Martine. Halloran looked resignedly at the four swordsmen who were hacking their way up the bluff. All around them, other small groups of scouts worked their way down the beach or pioneered other paths toward the high ground beyond the shore.

"No!" Hal turned to her in exasperation. "You shouldn't even be on the beach now!" He desperately wanted to lead one of the teams, but he knew that Martine would only accompany him. He looked at Cordell, together with the Bishou and Darien, several hundred yards up the beach. Halloran sensed the Bishou's eyes upon him every time he turned around. And Martine's bold gaze confronted him when he turned back.

"I am not a child, you know! I can take care of myself, and if you don't want to come along with me, you don't have to! I'm going to do a little exploring." She whirled away from him, and once again he stumbled after her.

He reached out to take her arm, but she fixed him with a glare of such intensity that his arms fell to his sides, as if paralyzed.

"What are you so worried about, anyway?" she teased.

"Another hakuna, perhaps. And what if the people aren't friendly everywhere we go?" Hal grew increasingly annoyed with her. He felt frustrated by the way she maneuvered him into acceptance of whatever she chose to do. But he could not show his anger. Some inner reserve kept his temper in check as she manipulated him, turning his frustration inward to seethe and simmer.

"But I have you to protect me, don't I?" She touched his arm and he started stammering. "Look at this — a stairway!" she exclaimed suddenly.

They reached the base of the bluff and saw the four swordsmen Martine had indicated earlier working their way upward through entangling vegetation. Now they could see that the path was in reality a series of broad, granite steps, climbing in steep switchbacks across the face of the bluff. Some distance to the right, the two huge faces looked out to sea.

Martine led Hal onto the granite steps, and they quickly joined the four men. Halloran wished he had brought Corporal ashore. The legion's war dogs were adept at spotting ambushes and other unpleasant surprises.

These steps, like the faces and the pyramid, evidenced a more organized and populous culture than the expedition had encountered on the islands. Even so, the level of jungle entanglement showed that they received very little use. Normally he would have enjoyed the exploration, with its splendid view of the lagoon, the strange sculpture, the steep ground. But instead, he found himself miserable, disgusted by his weakness in the face of Martine's manipulations.

It took some time to reach the top of the bluff, and Halloran watched the ships grow smaller below as they climbed. Most of the legion had debarked by now, but he felt quite isolated. He saw Daggrande lead perhaps a score of crossbowmen and swordsmen toward the stairway below and took some comfort from the sight.

"Captain?" One of the swordsmen stepped aside for Halloran as they reached the top of the stairway — Hal saw that they had reached a brushy strip of land atop the bluff, running parallel to the coast to the north and south at the lip of the sleep slope. Several hundred feet back from the edge rose the verdant wall of a tropical rain forest.

"There's the pyramid!" Martine cried, pointing, and Hal saw the squat structure rising from the brush perhaps a mile to the north along the coast.

"Let's head that way," suggested Halloran, knowing they would find other members of the expedition there.

He was mildly surprised when Martine agreed.