“Keep your head down and leave any talking to me. I’ll tell anyone who challenges us that you are a deaf-mute. May Quetzalcoatl protect us.”
“And if I fail, God save the ones I love,” Adam whispered.
The journey to the palace was tense and silent. If Yaotl saw anyone he considered suspicious, he diverted around them. Adrenaline coursed through Adam’s veins but had no outlet. His heart hammered in his chest. Time was almost up. They were so close, so goddamn close he could taste it.
“Here.” Yaotl pointed to where water came out of a tunnel and into a river.
He scrambled down the bank, and Adam followed. Before they reached the water, they stopped. Well hidden by foliage was a circular stone. Yaotl tapped a sequence on the stone. It creaked and groaned, and then rolled to the left.
Adam went inside, and Yaotl came after him. Torches and flints lined the wall. They each lit a torch. Adam glanced back at the still-open entrance.
“If things go wrong, you can still get out,” Yaotl said. “If we’re successful, it can be closed another time. Hurry, time is almost gone.”
They hurried along, their shoulders hunched, in single file. The smell of earth, damp and musty, invaded Adam’s nostrils. The narrow space made it claustrophobic, and Adam fought a battle with his own personal demons just to keep going.
He was so focused on putting one foot after another that he almost bumped into Yaotl’s back. The warrior drew his head down and whispered directly into his ear.
“It opens up ahead. There are several turns. We are almost where we need to be. We must be prepared. Numa will have thought to put his agents here to prevent anyone entering the temple. It is what I would do in his place.”
Adam nodded, thankful that the tunnel was opening. Sweat ran down his cheeks and soaked his body. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow. The one thing that kept him going was the thought of Elijah, of lying one last time in his lover’s arms. He took a deep breath and kept close behind Yaotl.
The tunnel widened, its ceiling rose, and Adam knew they were slowly heading upwards. Yaotl stopped, his free hand reaching for one of his knives. He pointed ahead. The tunnel curved around a bend, and Adam saw a shadow flicker. He nodded. There was someone ahead. Yaotl rubbed his torch in the dirt. He then pointed to a sconce for Adam’s torch.
Now that he had both hands free, Yaotl took out his other dagger. He licked each blade. After that, the Aztec’s lips moved silently in what Adam assumed was a prayer. Adam took out his own dagger and weighed it in his hand. It felt comfortable. He laid the bag with the statue down, and he settled into a fighting stance.
Yaotl hugged the wall and peered around the corner. He glanced back at Adam, gave a red-toothed grin, and held up two fingers. Adam nodded. The odds were even. He watched as Yaotl drew several deep breaths, his eyes closed, and hit his chest with his fist. The blows were controlled, but Adam was sure that if silence wasn’t essential, the warrior would have pounded much harder against his breast.
Although Adam was ready for Yaotl’s move, he wasn’t prepared for the blood-curdling yell as Yaotl ran around the corner. The tactic worked. The two warriors who stood in front of a circular stone door lost precious seconds readying for the fight.
Adam ducked and jabbed as his hand slid against his opponent. Blood mixed with sweat dripped from his fist to the floor. He tightened his grip as his hand grew slick.
He danced out of reach as his opponent slashed and thrust. His arm and chest received several gashes as did that of his adversary. Blood and sweat smeared across both men’s chests as they fought. Adam closed in. Each man grasped the wrist of the other’s knife hand in a macabre dance. At the end of which, Adam knew there would be only one man still standing.
Adam broke the man’s hold and drove forward. His thrust sliced deep into the other man’s chest, and blood spurted from the wound. Adam showed no mercy. He followed with several quick slashes.
He dropped to one knee and aimed his next blow upward. His blade pierced his opponent’s chest deep into his lung. The man’s eyes opened wide as he recognized his impending death. He dropped to his knees and coughed, spraying bloody spittle in Adam’s direction. His eyes took on a glassy stare, and he pitched forward.
Adam stepped back, breathing in short, sharp gasps. He looked over at Yaotl. The warrior straddled his adversary and hacked at what appeared to be an already dead man.
“Yaotl! Enough! He’s dead. Where now?” Adam didn’t dare approach the warrior. Slowly Yaotl raised his eyes and met Adam’s gaze.
“They wear the garb of priests. Do you see any
tilmatlis
?”
Adam looked around the door and found the cloaks. He held them up, and Yaotl nodded. “Leave them. Get the Breath of Quetzalcoatl. We must go through here.”
Yaotl bared his teeth in an animalistic grin. Adam nodded. He ran to get the bag while Yaotl turned to deal with the rock that barred the way into the palace. Adam’s hands shook as he took the statue out. He joined Yaotl, whose fingers pushed and twisted the ornate designs on the rock.
Adam wiped his bloodied hand on his
maxtlatl.
He’d been cut, but there was no time to do anything about it. The cloak would hide the marks on his chest. Thankfully they were only minor injuries. As he watched Yaotl try to open the secret entrance, Adam’s heart hammered so hard in his chest he was surprised the warrior couldn’t hear it.
Finally, Yaotl stepped back, tension draining from his body as the stone slid silently to the left. Yaotl picked up the
tilmatlis
lying on the ground and pressed a finger to his lips to indicate silence. He motioned for Adam to follow him through the silken turquoise curtain before them.
Adam stepped into a moderately sized alcove, and the stone closed behind them. The curtain he’d passed through was flanked by a pair of floor to ceiling pillars, and another two ahead supported another turquoise curtain. The pillars were golden, maybe even solid gold, Adam couldn’t be sure. Inlaid around the columns, in turquoise and other precious stones, were pictures of the feathered serpent.
This is a temple dedicated to Quetzalcoatl.
Before him was an altar. It stood on a solid stone that reached waist height and depicted many carvings of the god. The altar itself stood at shoulder height, and it was also gold inlaid with mosaics. Adam didn’t have time to appreciate its beauty.
The sounds of voices approaching jolted him into action. His grasp of the Aztec language was basic, but the clarity of the voice and the speaker’s slow, deliberate speech enabled Adam to understand what was being said. He listened as he tried to set the statue in its plinth.
“I welcome you, Heumac, my emperor, and you, Numa, my most esteemed neighbor. I welcome all who come with peace in their hearts into the Temple of Quetzalcoatl.”
Adam realized the speaker had to be King Xipil. Another voice spoke, the accent more uncouth and the tone belligerent. Adam guessed it was Numa.
“That’s a very pretty speech, Xipil. Now open the curtain, and I will show to all that Quetzalcoatl has abandoned you. His favor is with me.”
As the men spoke, Adam had wrestled the statue up high enough, but it hadn’t set into its niche properly. Sweat ran down his face and into his eyes as footsteps came closer. Adam bit back a gasp as the statue clicked into place and slowly rotated in its setting.
The curtain was already moving as Adam grabbed the
tilmatli
that Yaotl flung at him and threw it around his shoulders, pulling it across his chest. He took up a place in front of one of the pillars and copied Yaotl, folding his right hand over his left across his chest and bowing his head.
Adam closed his eyes and prayed as a loud gasp came from what sounded like a gathered crowd.
“Behold, the Breath of Quetzalcoatl. In its place as it should be.”
Xipil spoke calmly, and Adam admired the king’s ability. He wasn’t sure he’d have pulled off such an unconcerned tone. He heard Xipil step closer, and Adam’s breath came in shallow gasps.
“Numa. You said Quetzalcoatl had abandoned Xipil. You even inferred that he was no longer capable of governing this province. As your emperor, I listened to you. You swore you would prove it to me. So I demand that proof.”
Adam risked opening an eye and saw Xipil stood just in front of him, off to the side of the gathered crowd. Outside the alcove, the emperor, dressed in his colors of orange and gold, stood and faced another man in dark blue, whose face was flushed and contorted with anger.
That must be Numa.
A tickling sensation on his hand drew his attention to the blood running down the back of it. He also saw the ring with the blue stone that he hadn’t thought to remove. He grimaced.
If Numa notices...
“I will cut out the hearts of the priests who told me our god had abandoned Xipil and embarrassed me this day.”
Numa’s voice rose, and the crowd eased away from him, leaving him and a couple of men dressed in his colors to face the emperor and his guards.
“You claimed our god had spoken to you, directly.” Xipil’s gaze met Adam’s for a second or two, and he took a step sideways, obscuring Adam from view.
“You said the same to me.” The emperor pointed at Numa. “You mentioned no others, nothing of your priests. Your shame today brings shame on me, your emperor.”
“I’ll kill every last priest in my kingdom for this.” Numa’s vice was shrill and carried an edge of panic that sent a shiver of fear down Adam’s spine. He tensed, ready for action, but Xipil reached back and laid a hand on his.
“Fear not and act not.” The words were whispered so quietly Adam had to strain to hear them. He let some of the tension ease from his body but remained ready.
“You will
not.
” The emperor’s voice boomed out. “Xipil has conducted himself as a true king throughout this, with dignity and nobility. You took every opportunity to speak against him and claim the god’s favor for yourself. You are not fit to rule, Numa.”
“Perhaps Numa would care to approach the Breath of Quetzalcoatl, and we may all see if our god does indeed bless him.” Xipil waved his hand towards the statue.
“No!” Numa shrieked and tried to back away. “No.”
Adam risked raising his head a little higher to watch what was happening as screams and shouts rent the air. He grimaced as the emperor made a dismissive gesture and his guards attacked. Numa’s guards dropped their weapons and stood back as Numa was hacked to death by the emperor’s men. Adam swallowed and tried to ignore the metallic stench of blood.
“A death befitting a traitor,” the emperor said.
“I will have my guards remove this from our god’s presence. Your men were not struck down by Quetzalcoatl, my emperor, nor did he intervene to protect Numa.” Xipil took a step forward and raised his hands. “Numa’s death is the will of the Feathered Serpent.”
A murmur arose from the crowd, and several people took up the words, chanting them softly.
“Numa claimed he had Quetzalcoatl’s blessing, but today he is revealed as a traitor to me, his emperor. He is shown as a man without dignity or honor. I will have his family brought to my province, Xipil. His province will come under your governance in unity, and it will also prosper, as your people have prospered, under the Breath of Quetzalcoatl.”
“My emperor is wise and just.” Xipil bowed low. “I will be honored to accept your decree.”
“Numa’s tributes fall far short of yours,” the emperor said. “Your rule, like that of your ancestors, has been exemplary. The blessing of the Feathered Serpent remains with you, my friend. I have no doubts that under your rule the new province will set a shining example to all the others in my empire.”
“I thank you, my emperor. Please, follow Itotia. My beloved consort will escort you to the banquet hall. I will follow once I have ensured the temple is cleared of...this.” Xipil waved a hand at the bloodied corpse of Numa.
The crowd filed out, still murmuring, and Xipil remained where he stood until the last of Numa’s blood had been cleaned. When the last of his guards had left, he turned to face Adam.
“I thank you and your government.”
“You’re welcome, King Xipil,” Adam said.
The king touched his ring. “Where did you get this?”
“One of the thieves. I should return it to you.” Adam went to remove the ring, but Yaotl interjected. The warrior spoke so fast and quiet that Adam struggled to understand all that was said, but he heard his name and that of the Aztec’s god. When Yaotl finished speaking, Xipil looked at him with respect in his eyes.
“Keep the ring. It is Quetzalcoatl’s will. Yaotl has told me that you have the blessing of our god.”
“I don’t know...” Adam got no farther as Yaotl spoke up.
“The Breath of Quetzalcoatl saved him, my king. I bore witness with my own eyes. Mecatl and our other men saw it, too.”
Xipil nodded. “The thieves?”
“Dead,” Adam said.
“It is good,” Xipil said. “You and I will meet again, Adam. Next time you will be an honored guest who will walk freely and openly through my province with my blessing. I want you to see and enjoy its beauty. Yaotl, take him via Izel’s home and ensure he leaves in comfort.”
“It shall be done, my king.”
Adam bowed the same way as Yaotl as Xipil turned and left. Yaotl looked up at Adam, a broad grin on his face.
“Now you have Xipil’s favor as well as the gods. You are truly a king amongst men.”
Adam shook his head. “Not me. I’m no king.” He laughed as the adrenaline drained from his body. Now all his bruises and cuts, aches and pains made themselves known, and his laugh became a soft groan. “But I’d welcome traveling home in comfort.”
“You are very wrong, my friend,” Yaotl said. “I will arrange for one of the king’s own carriages to be made available for you, led by an escort of warriors. Your family will be happy to see you again.”
An image of Elijah came into Adam’s mind, and he smiled. “Yes, and I’ll be happy to see them.”
Chapter Thirty
Adam ran his hands through his hair as he jolted along in Xipil’s carriage. It was certainly a much more comfortable ride home than the journey to Xipil’s palace had been. He looked down and laughed at his clothing. He wore white pants and a long turquoise shirt. Both garments had been sent to him by Xipil.