Feathered Dragon

18

Gloom descended like a heavy cloud over the entire vast expedition of halflings, desert dwarves, and Itza as soon as word of Erixitl’s strange affliction spread through the ranks. It was as if the bright hope that had brought them together and led them so steadily toward Twin Visages had suddenly and universally been extinguished.

Now the woman rode in a wide litter, lined with leaves and blossoms. The front of the framework swung from Storm’s saddle, and the rear dragged along the ground when the path was clear. All too often, however, the way was obstructed, and at these times Halloran lifted the rear of the litter, carrying it over every obstacle.

Halloran would allow no one but himself to perform this task. Erixitl’s breathing remained steady, but she did not regain consciousness. Even the most potent of Coton’s priestly ministrations could do nothing to return her to awareness or even cause her to flicker her eyelids or make the faintest of sounds.

For two days, they continued onward, pressing northward through the jungle. Luskag, Daggrande, Jhatli-even Lotil-all tried to aid Halloran as he strained over the rough ground. But he clenched his teeth and ignored them, even as salt sweat stung his eyes and the miles rolled endlessly on.

They stopped only after it was fully dark, and at one of these camps, Halloran made some decisions.

“I think we should take her to Ulatos instead of going directly to Twin Visages,” he announced as they finished a meal of venison and fruit around a low fire.

“Why?” asked Luskag. The desert dwarf had become convinced of Erixitl’s vision and knew that she believed Qotal would return at the faces on the cliffside.

“It seems more and more like some kind of spell that has her in its grasp. In the city, at least, we will find more clerics, perhaps an apothecary-a chance to help her.”

Coton, the priest of Qotal, nodded silently. Lotil voiced his own opinion. “We can take my daughter to the temple of Qotal in the city. Perhaps there we can find aid for her. This is a good plan.”

One by one the others agreed. They didn’t know how far ahead of them lay the coastline, and hence Ulatos and Twin Visages, though Gultec estimated that they were only a few days away. A native of Ulatos, he recognized that they had long since left the deep jungles of Far Payit behind.

After they had reached a decision, Halloran rose from the fire and went to see Erixitl. She lay motionless on the soft mattress they had made for her. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing, and the roundness of her belly seemed so unmistakably alive that Hal almost convinced himself that she merely slept. He placed his hand upon her abdomen, where so often he had felt the kicking and squirming of their child. Now he felt no movement at all.

“Summon your cleric, man! We need him now, or Katl will die!” Cordell stormed about the tiny makeshift cell, slamming his fist into the door repeatedly. Beside him, the Eagle Knight moaned in pain and delirium, his smashed right arm bound crudely by Cordell and Grimes.

The wounded eagle, Katl, had been placed in the cell with Cordell and his legionnaires. Slowly, in his unconsciousness and delirium, his body had shifted back to its human form. As they ministered to him, they had seen that his arm bone had been crushed by the force of the ball. It seemed unlikely that he would ever use it for anything useful again.

Outside the door, a trio of armed men stood, trying to ignore the prisoner’s outburst. They guarded the captain-general and the legionnaires who had accompanied him

into the fort in a boarded-up stall within a small wooden barn. Hired by-and loyal to-Don Vaez, the men-at-arms were nonetheless nervous about imprisoning a personage of Cordell’s high reputation.

Finally one of the guards left, but when he returned it was not with a man of healing. Instead, he came back with Don Vaez himself.

“I understand you’re creating a disturbance,” chided the blond-haired captain.

“I’ve tried to tell them this man needs a cleric. The fever has taken him, and without aid, he doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Why should you care?” inquired Don Vaez with a disdainful look at the Maztican warrior. Katl lay on the floor in the cell, surrounded by the fifteen legionnaires who had been captured with Cordell.

“He’s a good man and my friend,” replied Cordell, his voice cold steel. “Why should you want him dead?”

“1 don’t really care one way or the other!’ chuckled Don Vaez. “Perhaps if you were to cooperate, you would find that I can be… accommodating.”

“What do you mean?” The captain-general scowled, studying his rival.

“We have learned that you claimed much gold from your conquest of Ulatos. Yet we have not been able to find it- your man, Tranph, has insisted he does not know, even after we applied some vigorously, ah, persuasive techniques.”

You animal! thought Cordell, but he tried to keep his anger from his face. He took a deep breath.” He told the truth. Tranph didn’t know where the gold is buried. None of the men I left behind knew.”

Don Vaez nodded; it was a precaution that he could understand. “Nevertheless, the good assessor has told us that it’s buried somewhere within the walls of this fort. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know exactly where.”

“The little bastard!” Cordell blurted, though the tale merely confirmed his understanding of Kardann’s treachery.

“You, however, do know,” observed Don Vaez. He cast another look at Katl and clucked his tongue in false sympathy.

“Perhaps, before it is too late, you will decide to tell me.”

With a sly smile and a twirl of silver-blond curls, the adventurer turned on his heel and stepped lightly from (he building.

A massive block of stone fell among the trees, splintering the trunks and crushing the wood to pulp. Another, identical block fell beside it. Then the two massive bludgeons repeated the process.

Thus Zaltec entered the forested lands of Payit. The jungle trails vanished beneath the verdant canopy of the tree-tops, but the huge form had no use for such amenities as paths in any event. Instead, the monolith of stone made its own path, clearing a wide swath at the head of its army simply by the force of its passage.

Behind the huge, lumbering statue that was Zaltec trailed the beastlord Hoxitl, and then the teeming thousands of his army, the beasts of the Viperhand,

During the long month of their march, they had become more than the ragged horde that had left Nexal in search of blood and treasure. Now they marched in ranks, the ogres controlling the ores, and the trolls maintaining their own tight, fast-moving companies.

Hoxitl strutted at their head, full of devotion for his hungry god. He knew that soon they would meet an enemy. Which one, he did not know, caring only that it was composed of warm bodies, bodies with hearts that could given over to Zaltec’s greater glory.

“I’ve got to tell him where the gold is,” Cordell admitted to Grimes shortly after Don Vaez had left the prisoners. Katl groaned and tossed, his fever seemingly intensifying every minute. It was obvious that the Eagle Knight was very neat to death.

Beyond the cell, the trio of guards paid them no attention, instead focusing on some game of wagering that they played on the dirt floor of the barn. Cordell was about to tell the guards to summon their captain when the door to the barn opened and a man entered.

The newcomer passed the guards, who looked up from their game and obviously recognized him, for they made no objection to his presence. The man approached the door of

the cell.

“Rodolfo?” asked Cordell in surprise. “Can that be you?”

“It is, I’m ashamed to admit,” said the navigator, with a look to insure that the guards were out of earshot.

“I thought you gave up the sea when you married,” said the captain-general quietly. “Otherwise I surely would have had you at the helm of my flagship a year ago!”

The grizzled navigator shook his head sadly. “I was a landlubber for five years, but then the plague swept through my village. It claimed my wife and my two young sons.”

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Cordell reached out a hand to clap Rodolfo on the shoulder. He waited quietly, sensing this was not the reason Don Vaez’s navigator had come to see him.

“We’ve heard what you said about the army on its way here… led by a giant made of stone! A lot of the men, I don’t mind telling you, aren’t at all certain how Don Vaez will fare against such a threat.”

“He doesn’t even believe it exists,” said Cordell in disgust. “He assumes the tale is some sort of ruse I’m using to gain my freedom.”

“Your freedom…” Rodolfo cast another look at the three guards, who were still engaged in their vigorous game of knucklebones. None of the trio looked up from the scattered coins and bones on the ground. “There are those besides me who would like to see you gain that freedom. Don Vaez is feared, but not greatly admired, by these men.”

Cordell smiled grimly. “Your words give me great hope and encouragement. Now we need a plan.”

Katl groaned behind him, and the captain-general turned toward the wounded man. Then he looked back to Rodolfo. “I’ll still have to tell Don Vaez where the gold is hidden. That’s the only way he’ll send the cleric to help Katl. But perhaps, with your help, we’ll find a way to keep it out of his hands in the end.”

Tabub came rushing back to Halloran, gesturing wildly at the sky and the jungle before them.

“Eagle!” panted the chief of the Little People. “Him and Now he Big Person! Come quick!”

Hal’s first thought was Poshtli, but by the time he had laid Erix’s litter down and followed the halfling warrior forward, he had dismissed the idea of seeing his old friend here as wishful thinking.

But the sight of Chical, standing beside Daggrande and Co-ton, was nevertheless a welcome one. As far as Hal had known, the warrior was somewhere deep in the House of Tezca helping his people erect the city of Tukan.

The Eagle Warrior dispensed with the greetings quickly and told them of the mission that had brought the eagles and the horsemen to Helmsport and the fate that had befallen Cordell there. “He has been taken prisoner by this one he calls ‘Don Vaez,’” continued Chical. “They have kept him inside one of the buildings, so I’m not even certain that he lives.

“This morning, one of my eagles flew a short way south ward over the Payit forests and discovered you. He did not know who you were, so I flew here to investigate.” Chicallooked around at the odd mixture of dwarves, halflings, and human warriors.

“A short way?” Hal repeated. “How close to Ulatos are we now?”

“No more than two days’ walk. You could make it in a single long march.”

“Don Vaez.” Daggrande spoke the name, accompanying it with a curse. He spat in disgust. “That little weasel doesn’t have the guts to do anything on his own, but he’s always chased after the Golden Legion’s glory. I’m not a bit surprised that he tossed Cordell in irons.”

“We must free him if we can,” said Chical quietly. Halloran looked at the warrior in surprise, sensing that a bond had formed between the Eagle Knight and the foreign soldier-a bond that was all the more surprising in light of the opposing roles the two men had played in the battle for Nexal. Chical had commanded the Maztican warriors surrounding the Golden Legion, while Cordell had desperately strived to gain escape for himself and his men.

“Why?” asked Gultec directly. “Why should it matter to us which of the bearded men commands their troops?”

Chical nodded, understanding the Jaguar Knight’s question. He told them of Zaltec and the monstrous army marching on Helmsport and Ulatos, and of Cordell’s orders to his own legionnaires and the Kultakans he had left in the desert. “He planned to send those ships for them on the shore of the Sea of Azul. If they had returned in time, they would have greatly increased our numbers!”

“Do we still have time?” asked Daggrande. “Those men must be hundreds of miles south of here.”

“I don’t know,” Chical admitted. “The beasts will be here within a week, a ten-day at the most. It depends on how fast the ships could sail-but they will only sail if Cordell gives the order.”

“Twin Visages!” said Halloran, suddenly understanding. “Zaltec doesn’t march against Ulatos. He goes to Twin Visages!”

The giant god would have to march past the Payit city, of course, but Hal suspected that his eventual goal would be the scene of his brother’s attempted return. Suddenly the workings of fate, in providing them with the army that now marched with him, began to make sense.

“You’re right,” he said, turning back to Chical. “We’ve got*° get those ships sailing. How can we free Cordell, though? It wouldn’t make sense to attack Don Vaez’s force. They’re not the real enemy.”

“Still, your presence here can only be described as fortuitous,” replied Chical. “And it has given me an idea…”

As the warrior explained his plan, they saw it for the desperate scheme that it was. Still, none of them could think of any alternative. They asked questions and finalized details

of timing. Finally, when Chical again took to The air, they knew what they had to do.

They rested only briefly through the darkest pan of the night, and by moonrise, which occurred several hours be-fore dawn, the entire force had resumed the march toward Ulatos. They pressed forward through a long, hot day. Halloran again bore the burden of his wife’s unconscious form

At sunset, none of them showed any inclination to rest Spurred on by the knowledge that the city was nearby, Halloran desperately wanted to get Erixitl to the sanctuary of the temple. In addition, their plan with Chical required them to reach the open fields around Ulatos during the dark of the night.

It was nearly midnight when Halloran and Gultec, in the lead, broke from the fringe of the jungle and saw the torches of the Payit city glowing across the fields.

Accompanied by the Jaguar Knight and the priest of Qotal, Halloran left the bowmen of Tulom-Itzi, the dwarves, and the Little Men in the savannah beyond Ulatos. They knew their part in the plan and immediately.started gathering dry wood, collecting it in hundreds of different locations.

Meanwhile, the trio took Erixitl into the city to seek the temple of Qotal. As the marching column made camp under a moonless night sky, the three companions hurried through the city streets toward the pyramid. Though the torches they had seen earlier flickered around them, they saw no one awake or active at this hour.

Finally Coton led them to a whitewashed adobe building beside the dark, vine-covered pyramid.

“Wake up! Wake up in there!” Halloran cried, pounding on the temple door.

After several moments, they heard footsteps shuffling inside. “What is it? What in the name of the brings you here at this hour?”

The door flew open, revealing a plump, clean-faced priest in a white gown. “Yes? What do you want?”

“My wife needs care, and she needs a comfortable place “ rest. We’ve traveled far, and our mission is extremely

important-important to the himself!” Halloran pushed through the door, Erixitl in his arms, as the priest stammered his objections. “Why do you bother me?” he asked indignantly. “Who just then the priest caught sight of Coton lingering behind the others. “F-Forgive me. Patriarch! I did not know- By all means, bring the lady in! Follow me!”

Halloran dogged the footsteps of the suddenly obsequious priest, with a grateful look back at the enigmatically smiling Coton. The young cleric led him to a warm chamber, small but with a thick mattress of straw,

“Here-she can rest here,” he explained. Halloran pushed past him and laid his wife on the mattress. Her chest rose and fell slowly from the movement of her breathing, but this was the only way he knew that she lived.

Her face had a dreadful pallor, and her eyes-those impossibly beautiful eyes, so deep and rich and dark-remained closed.

He wondered if he would ever see those eyes again.

The door to the shed opened, and a wash of yellow lamplight illuminated the dreary cell. Cordell blinked, waking quickly, and saw Rodolfo enter, followed by several brawny swordsmen. The time was some numberless hour past midnight

“Hey! No one’s allowed in here after dark!” objected one of the guards, climbing sleepily to his feet and standing in the navigator’s path.

The guard said nothing further as the metal gauntlet of one of Rodolfo’s companions crunched firmly into his jaw. The man collapsed while his two companions stumbled backward, stammering in surprise. The other intruders pressed the tips of their swords to the throats of the remaining two guards, effectively convincing them of the merits of silence.

“Don Vaez is sending most of the fleet back to Amn with

the gold,” the navigator hissed. “We’ve got to an now. He’s given orders to sail with this evenings tide.”

“The repulsive dog!” Cordell hissed quietly. “I made an agreement with him. I told him where the gold was buried, in exchange for his promise to send the cleric to lend my man.”

Rodolfo looked at the pallid, groaning warrior and knew immediately that Don Vaez hadn’t kept his side of the bargain.

“Quick-the keys!” Cordell said, pointing to one of the guards. Rodolfo’s brawny companion pressed his sword slightly, and the guard gulped, quickly withdrawing a clinking ring of keys.

“It’s th-this one,” he stammered, identifying the proper key.

In the next instant, Rodolfo threw open the door, and Cordell and his men stumbled from the cell. They stood together in the barn, blinking in the bright lamplight.

“Tie them up. Gag them, too,” ordered Cordell.

“Beg the gen’ral’s pardon,” said one of the guards, slowly backing away from the sword at his throat. Cordell saw that the man looked vaguely familiar.

“Name’s Millston, sir. I served with you against Akbet Khrul and his pirates. I’d like to come with.. that is… I’m on your side, sir. I’ve heard about the giant and the trolls and them others. Sir, the only way we have a chance is if you’re in charge. That prissy courtier’ll get us all killed.”

Cordell studied the man and then made his decision. If he was to be successful, he needed a lot of Don Vaez’s men to come to the same conclusion as Millston.

“Glad to have you,” he said, nodding to Rodolfo’s accomplice. “Give him back his sword.”

The conspirators extinguished the lamp. They brought the feverish Katl from the cell and made him as comfortable as possible on a bed of straw. The other two guards, bound and gagged, were locked in the cell for good measure.

Cautiously they opened the door to the barn. The headquarters house stood across the compound, and men were moving about everywhere. A series of bright lanterns illuminated the top of the rampart to the south, on the side facing the grassy savannah.

Cordell realized that Don Vaez had organized a work crew that now labored to excavate the gold hidden in the rampart wall. The fort was being destroyed, just when its greatest threat marched toward them in the shape of Zaltec and his monstrous army!

“What’s that?” Urgency hissed through Grimes’s voice as the officer whirled, raising his sword. “Chical!” he added with relief.

Cordell saw the Eagle Knight advance from the shadows beside the shed. He clapped his friend on the arm, his throat tightening with emotion.

“I came to set you free, but 1 see others have done the task before me.”

“I’m glad you came,” replied Cordell quietly.

“I bring news,” whispered the Maztican, quickly explaining about his meeting with Halloran and the plan they had formed. At the same time, they heard a commotion arise among the men on the work crew. From their vantage point, they looked over the field toward Ulatos and clamored in excitement and alarm.

“That must be them!” said the knight.

“Let’s go!” cried Cordell, leading his small party at a trot toward the high walls of the fortress. “Follow me!” he shouted to the rows of tents sheltering Don Vaez’s men. The workers and guards turned in surprise to see Cordell climb the sloping earthen surface of the wall, turning to face the courtyard.

“Listen to me, men of the Sword Coast’ 1 warn you of a great danger. A monstrous force approaches, one that will require all your valor to face.” The captain-general’s voice rang throughout the fortress. The men of Don Vaez gathered below, listening carefully.

“We can face it, but we need allies. I ask you now-look into the field before you.”

The men on the wall top, working to excavate the gold, had already seen the savannah. Now they shared their knowledge with their companions in the fort below.

“An army camped on the field!”

“I see a thousand campfires, all come to life at once!”

“There are twenty thousand men there!”

What they actually saw were the campfires, some six hundred in number, made by the desert dwarves, the Little People, and the Itza warriors out on the savannah. But the dark night made exaggeration easy. In a few moments, the overly observant lookouts had spotted a hundred thousand men, with elephants and chariots and huge catapults, all gathered before the fortress of Helmsport.

“Seize him! Stop him!” Don Vaez’s command urged his men toward the charismatic captain-general. Panic made the man’s voice shrill.

Beside the silver-haired adventurer, Cordell saw the cringing figure of Kardann in the lamplight. It figured, he thought, that the assessor would be on hand when the effort to dig up the gold was made. Now, in the midst of the confusion, Kardann groaned in fear. He took a long look at Cordell and then spun wildly, racing down the outer slope of the rampart to disappear into the darkness of the savannah.

Good riddance thought Cordell with dark satisfaction. It would suit him if he never saw the little maggot again

One man decided to take action in the face of chaos. Pryat Devane leaped onto his flying carpet, darting into the air. He began to mouth the words to a potent clerical spell, a casting that could have masked Cordell from all who tried to see and hear him.

But another form lurked in the sky. As the cleric raised his hand, his carpet soaring toward the captain-general, a great eagle swooped toward him from above. The priest screamed as talons ripped across his face, and his carpet twisted beneath him.

The eagle dove away but the cleric had already lost control. As his carpet careened toward the rampart where Cordell stood, the pryat desperately struggled to maintain his balance. He could not.

With a terrified cry, the priest slipped from his carpet and fell heavily to the ground, perhaps twenty feet below He

groaned and thrashed his arms, one of his legs twisted unnaturally beneath him.

“Men of the Sword Coast, hear me! These are my allies camped on the field beyond the fort!” cried Cordell, his voice pounding through the vast courtyard. “Join with me, with us, and we will stand against the foe and claim the victory and the treasure that we all deserve!”

The men working at the excavation scowled at Don Vaez, then looked again at the many fires twinkling across the field. They looked, to the imaginative watchers, like a sky full of stars,

Immediately several of the workers grabbed their erstwhile captain and dragged him forward. Don Vaez protested loudly, until one of the men cuffed him soundly.

“Cordell!” A shout rose from the men among the tents.

”Hail, Cordell!” It was echoed by the workers on the rampart above.

In the meantime, the captain-general descended from the rampart and crossed to the injured cleric. The groaning Pryat Devane struggled to straighten his leg out so that he could cast a spell of healing upon it.

“Wait,” ordered Cordell, standing above the terrified priest. “There’s somebody else I want you to heal first. Pick him up,” he ordered several of his loyal legionnaires.

With the sputtering Don Vaez in tow, they started toward the cell where the injured Eagle Knight, Katl, still lay.