FIERCE: A Heroic Fantasy Adventure (BRUTAL TRILOGY Book 2)

by James Alderdice

  A new ball was taken to the king’s box in the center of the court and this time it was the Nagual sorcerer, Cuauhtémoc, that called everyone’s attention. “Let us not forget our oaths and the sacred fate we reenact when we both play and watch the ball game. We witness the cycle again and again as chaos and order wage war, as day and night compete forever winning and retreating, victory and defeat are inseparable. One cannot be without the other and yet, for today, we will have but one outcome. For today we will know what course our lives and those of our fellow men may yet be!”

  Though the crowd looked on the sinister priest with trepidation, they cheered as he finished his words and casually tossed the ball to Mixamaxtla to strike into play.

  Back and forth it went. Gathelaus only managed to bounce the ball off his hip once, for the others were yet more skilled than he when it came to intercepting the heavy thing and attempting to get it through the ring. But his skill as a blocker and defender of his comrades was unparalleled. Three times he bowled over his opponents and kept Mixamaxtla or Xoloc free to send the ball through the ring. The game was tied at three.

  A sharp whistle blew, and Cuauhtémoc shouted, “The next goal will signify the final winners and the losers. Play on, and may the gods smile upon you!”

  Gathelaus noted how the sorcerer subtly pointed toward the gallery of skulls when he said losers.

  The ball went up with a stout pass from Xoloc, but it was intercepted by a day player who looked like his costume meant he was a god of corn. The corn god shot the ball across the arena with a strike from his hip. It went perilously close to the ring and the audience booed and cheered simultaneously. A convergence of bodies slammed together trying to retrieve the ball, and this was where Gathelaus’s gauntlets became most useful. He pummeled his opponents aside and passed the ball to Mixamaxtla.

  The captain took control and bounced the ball up and up as he ran forward, Gathelaus keeping a trio of opponents back and away. Mixamaxtla kicked the ball up and it bounced off the side of the ring and struck one of his own players in the head, knocking him senseless.

  The ball flew toward Gathelaus and he batted it toward the ring. It headed straight for the hoop. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. It hit the top inside of the hoop and fell to the lower part of the ring. It looked for a half a moment like it would roll through, but it tipped the other way and fell out with no point being made.

  The king’s team caught the ball on the descent, passed it between themselves thrice, then sent it back up and made it through the ring.

  The crowd cheered wildly. The king’s team won. Already their captain knelt before the royal box, prostrating himself in deference. A headsman came toward the kneeling man with a long macahuitl, its glittering obsidian shards catching sunlight upon their razor-sharp edges. But Gathelaus had to watch his own comrade now, who was up in arms.

  Mixamaxtla looked at Gathelaus and charged him with his club raised. Gathelaus raised his own and suddenly the two of them were battering away at each other on the arena floor.

  “You damn fool! You almost killed me!” shouted Mixamaxtla between strikes.

  The other players fled from the two titanic warriors. A stray blow from either would likely as not kill a man.

  The hard wood paddles struck each other several times and the thick deer hide protected them, but wherever the strikes connected with flesh, terrible bruises resulted.

  “Put down your weapons!” shouted Cuauhtémoc. “No one, but no one, is allowed to spill blood after the game in the arena but upon the king’s word.”

  Mixamaxtla backed away, breathing heavy, staring at Gathelaus, his dark eyes full of hatred.

  “I want those two men thrown in the dungeon for their disregard of proper game etiquette,” said one of the priestly announcers.

  “It is the king’s decision,” said another.

  The woman, Tazcara, whispered into the king’s ear.

  Tezomoc answered loudly. “My king, I humbly beg you to forgive my players, they but argued over who would have the honor of bestowing upon you the victor’s garland. Please, have pity on them who feel so strongly of the sacred honor they might receive at your mighty hand.”

  Gathelaus was amazed at Tezomoc’s silver tongue. The lord truly knew how to sound humble and gracious in the wake of catastrophe. Tazcara again whispered into the king’s ear.

  Gathelaus was surprised to find out that Tazcara was the queen, she had not appeared to be particularly royal when he met her a few weeks ago. She had seemed lewd and lascivious. What was her game?

  King Itzcoatl finally stood and said, “Your alien player there, the light skinned barbarian. The queen finds favor with him. Let him be the one to honor me.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Tezomoc, bowing low. “You honor my house.” He turned and glared at both Gathelaus and Mixamaxtla.

  The king and his retinue departed.

  “You fools almost cost me my chance!” Tezomoc snarled. “If I had lost out, you two would be skinned alive! Do you understand me? There will be no more mistakes or that which you care for will suffer most dearly.”

  Mixamaxtla shrank from that but Gathelaus was incensed. “What do you have on me? I’m serving you as we bargained.”

  Tezomoc snorted and slapped his hands together in wicked glee. “Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. I sold the girl Coco to Cuauhtémoc right before the games began. He has her now.”

  “You lie. I saw her going down the causeway away from Chalco.”

  Tezomoc laughed. “You really think I would give up my ability to use you so quick? I had men stationed at the crossroads. She is here in the city.” He put a hand into his small satchel at his belt and produced the golden necklace that had once carried the piece of jade that Gathelaus now had. There was no way Coco would have given it up willingly.

  “Dog!” barked Gathelaus.

  Tezomoc shook his head. “You should not try and play games with the master. You will do the job I have for you and only then will you and the girl be released.”

  Gathelaus glowered but with the troop of armed guardsmen that now surrounded him, he knew he had to bide his time to strike. But once he did, all hell would be unleashed upon this craven demon.

  Dark Visions

  A parade of flowers showered through the streets and pink petals coated the brown flagstones all the way to the edge of Chalco’s gates. Great banners and umbrellas of palms kept the avalanche of pink from off their shoulders as they strode triumphant down the causeway to the king’s palace in Tultecacan. It was a lot farther than Gathelaus had first guessed. Over three miles down a stick straight road at least two wagons wide and about six feet above the water line of the lake. Some folk paddled in boats alongside the celebrated heroes, watching in delight and shouting praises.

  Gathelaus strode beside Tezomoc who rode in a magnificent palanquin. Gathelaus clenched his jaw in grim determination, barely able to conceal his hatred and anger.

  “This is a great day,” said Tezomoc as if they were old friends. “You will aid me in becoming the most powerful man in the kingdom. You will be richly rewarded.”

  Gathelaus knew every word the princeling uttered was but a lie but decided he had best play along until he could find a better way to evade the trap. No use in letting them know he was wise to the foul lordling’s deceit.

  “Once we reach the city, how far to the palace?”

  “Not far. See that highest peak in the city? That is the pyramid of the sun and just to the south of it, that dark peak is the palace of the moon. That is the king’s home—soon to be mine.” He chuckled. “This is truly a glorious day!” Tezomoc waved to the throng of people watching. “I love you my people!”

  It was the most pleasant Gathelaus had ever seen the man, but of course he knew that the glee was born of planned murder and self-aggrandizing treachery.

  “Why isn’t the highest peak home to the king?” asked Gathelaus.

  Tezomoc snorted. “That is the home of the gods. Or at lea
st one of the doorways to their realm. It is not for any man to enter but the priests when they give the gods sustenance. It is why most of our nation’s sacrifices are held there. The gods are fed and our world continues on as it should.”

  “What if someone held back from feeding them?”

  Tezomoc’s jovial manner vanished as if a storm cloud’s shadow rained upon him. “Foolishness to even ask. The destruction of the world would happen. Without Huiztipocli, we could not have war to gather victims. If Tlaloc vanished we would have no rain, if Xipe-Totec was not appeased we would have no corn, no rice. And if Kama-Zotz was not appeased the sun would refuse to rise in the morning. For being a man of the world, you are an imbecile. If it were not for we here in Tultecacan doing the work of the gods, the whole world would cease to be. The day will come, mark my words, when we shall have to extend beyond the boundaries set by the gods and gather more souls for them to feast upon. Then even your folk will tremble at the thought of our armies. But it is all for the greater good. You shall see.”

  “What boundaries?” pressed Gathelaus.

  Tezomoc shook his head and a pair of feathers from his headdress caught the wind and flew away, cast out upon the lake. “There is a great boundary far out upon the sea that the gods placed there to keep our promised land sacred and secure from barbarians such as you. There must have been a good reason that you even made it into our lands. Perhaps the gods wished to dine upon your flesh.”

  Gathelaus shot an angry glance at the princeling.

  “I am joking,” said Tezomoc. “We have a deal. You will do this great service for me and I shall release you and the girl to go where you will—away from my lands.”

  Gathelaus grunted and nodded. “I want to keep my game armor on, and I have another request.”

  “You are expected to continue wearing the armor after the game, but what else,” asked Tezomoc with a frown.

  “I want my steel back.”

  “What steel?” asked Tezomoc, rather unconvincingly.

  “When I landed on these shores, I had a knife. The Totanac’s took it, then you took it from them.”

  Tezomoc’s lips writhed, but he reached into his palanquin and produced the blade. “It is wholly unlike anything we possess, and I should like to keep such an amazing instrument when the deed at hand is done. What say you?”

  Gathelaus nodded, guessing that such an opportunity would never come, one or the other of them would be dead soon enough.

  One of Tezomoc’s most trusted men, Malintzin, approached. His hawk-like eyes scanned every which way. “My Lord, I suggest that we beg off and reschedule. I think the portents ring unsound and we may be headed for a trap.”

  “Nonsense,” snapped Tezomoc. “We are on the precipice of greatness. I’ll not be denied my opportunity when we are so close. The barbarian will accomplish the deed.”

  Malintzin cast a dubious look at Gathelaus but held his tongue.

  “And I won’t get a knife in the back when I do?” asked Gathelaus, with a lop-sided grin.

  “Of course not. I value my true servants,” replied Tezomoc as he waved at well-wishers along the causeway.

  But Malintzin was not yet done. “My Lord, I worry that perhaps once we are inside the spider’s web of a fortress, the bridges along the causeway will be raised and we shall be trapped like flies.”

  “Do you think so little of me?” growled Tezomoc.

  “I fear Cuauhtémoc and his wicked tongue whispering in the king’s ear.”

  “Do you hear this?” grumbled Tezomoc to Gathelaus. “He would have me lie and claim to be sick upon what shall be the day of my coronation.”

  “Lord,” pleaded Malintzin.

  “Silence, dog!” shouted Tezomoc.

  “And if he offers your beating heart upon the eagle dish?” countered Malintzin.

  Tezomoc’s nostrils flared and his left eye twitched, but before he could utter a word, a running man approached the column and knelt in the dust before them.

  The richly adorned man lay prostrate before them, his lips even touched the ground before he rose again to address Tezomoc.

  “Our lord, the great King Itzcoatl of the seven hummingbirds, sends you his regards and humbly offers you to enter into the sacred city that you may join him in the celebration.”

  “Tell him that I send my thanks and these bearers with jewels and gold and rich mantles to bestow my appreciation,” said Tezomoc, gesturing at his caravan. “We are honored to accept his invitation.”

  The running man rose, nodded, and then quickly ran back the way he had come.

  “You see,” said Tezomoc to Malintzin. “It is all going according to plan.”

  Malintzin muttered, “His? Or ours?”

  Gathelaus shook his head. The machinations of these so-called civilized folk left him with an emptiness and he could not wait to be rid of all of them, one way or another.

  ***

  Hawkwood’s ship, the Kraken, sailed in a southeasterly direction to which he had charted a course and kept on unerringly. When the lookout lounging in the crow’s nest sighted and called out land ho, the crew received it with some trepidation.

  “Is it that which we seek?” asked his first mate.

  Hawkwood searched through the spyglass at the isle of greenery with a jutting black basalt peak. “Nay, it is not. Just a small island like a sentinel watching for those that might approach the continent.”

  “Do you expect trouble?”

  Hawkwood shrugged. “Anything is possible, but I doubt it just yet.”

  “Still, we should do well to keep our blades loose in their scabbards. This is a cursed sea we tread upon,” replied the first mate.

  Hawkwood snorted. “Have you ever known me to be lax with a blade?”

  The first mate gulped, nervous to cast aspersions at his legendary commander. “No, Captain. I just have a bad feeling about these waters. None but you have ever sailed here, have you?”

  Hawkwood tore off his winged helmet letting sweat run down in rivulets across his powerful shoulders and shook his mangy head before taking a gulp from a wine skin. “I have never sailed these waters nor trod these lands we seek, but I know their story of old. But something is off. I suspect the forces that control these realms are in turmoil.”

  “Because of our approach?”

  He shook his head, his gaze ranging far away as if at something no other man could see. “It’s not me. Something else has the natives in a swoon. But I suspect we’ll find out what that is soon enough. Keep our course steady and true,” he cried to the pilot.

  The nervous crew saluted and obeyed his every word despite the aura of horror that lurked upon the red horizon.

  ***

  The skiff made incredible time gliding over the sea, once they reached the barrier known as the Invisible River they were amazed that by the power of its sails and shallow depth of the outriggers they could cross over waters that would be impassable to a ship with a deeper draft.

  “I do not think that it is as strong as it once was. I surmise their power has been significantly weakened,” said Tang Shook, as he leaned on his hands and knees and let his long-nailed fingers trail in the briny blue.

  Niels, who had never enjoyed the sea, cast a wary glance back and noted the diffusion of coloring from where the Blood Sea met the Invisible River. “I can see the difference between the current and the sea, why is it called Invisible?”

  Tang Shook shrugged. “People call things all manner of names. But the currents are very powerful, both the water and the air. We should have no trouble, we are keeping a good thirty-three-degree course and should cross over the River within the hour. Then we shall be on our way to Tultecacan.”

  Niels scanned the horizon. “Why is it here? You act like you know something more.”

  Tang Shook gave a soft laugh. “I do. I studied under the High Lama of Baug-Du oracle before Tetsudai the Red killed him. I barely escaped with my life. I only survived because a lone Ronin found me being tortured
by Tetsudai’s scouts and slew them. But I digress. The High Lama told me many things of our world and I read the silken scrolls of Nibleyus and how, when early in the world’s opening, the Nine Blood Gods came and took control of that continent and drew a powerful current around it to seal it off from the world.”

  “How could they do that?” asked Niels dubiously.

  Tang Shook knit his fingers together. “Like links in a chain, these old gods or egregores hold sway over this region and in turn keep it under their dominion. Now their chain of power is breaking, and I suspect I know who has begun that.”

  “He, you mean Gathelaus is killing a god? He told me he slew an avatar of Boha-Annu but a full god now?”

  “Not a god, but an egregore, a powerful entity that can cross between worlds, our own and their own. They are parasites that feed upon beings of other dimensions. They favor humans over all other sentient beings so far as I have read. But once they fully enter into our realm they are made flesh and as such, while it may be incredibly difficult, they can be slain.”

  “Well, no one can kill like Gathelaus, he has an inborn talent for discovering the weakness of anything he encounters.”

  “That may be all that saves him,” said Tang Shook with a weary nod.

  “That skill?”

  “That god given talent.”

  “Is there anyway to know how many he has slain and how many more there are?”

  “I shall divine the answers from the spirits if I can, but every mile our ship travels toward Tultecacan, the weaker my own spirit’s influence becomes and the greater the power over the astral realm the Blood Gods gain. But I will try.”