"Splendid!" agreed the Jaguar Knight. "We can destroy them in the high pass before they reach the town!"

"No," Naltecona disagreed. "That is not the plan. I want each of you to gather your most trusted knights. Take many thousandmen of warriors, too. But you are not to array for battle before Palul."

The others looked at him in confusion, and Naltecona enjoyed their curiosity. He paused for a few moments to let his listeners wonder.

"Instead, we will invite the strangers into Palul. There a great feast will be held, with much dancing and drinking of octal. Their Kultakan allies, we will insist, must remain outside the town."

"But we, with our men, will be in the town?" guessed Kalnak.

"Yes! And you, my chief of Jaguars, will give the signal. When the feast progresses, and the invaders have had much to drink, you will fall upon them from all sides. In one short battle, the strangers will be annihilated!"

"An excellent plan!" cried Hoxitl. "We shall take many captives – perhaps the majority of the invading army – in such an entrapment."

"And you, Chical? You have said nothing." Naltecona fixed his chief of Eagles with a scrutinizing eye.

"There is a thing that troubles me, Most Revered One. Always the warriors of Nexal have met their foes on the field, striving through courage and strength to prevail. It does not seem right, this masquerade of celebration and then slaughter."

"Would you have us face the magic and monsters of this legion in battle, so that we may all be killed?" challenged Kalnak before Naltecona could reply. The ruler smiled, pleased that the argument was between his underlings and did not involve himself.

"Until we know that they cannot be defeated this way, I would. I am not afraid," Chical replied.

Kalnak bristled, and only the upraised palm of the counselor prevented him from drawing his maca. "Nor am I afraid, but neither am I a fool," he sneered.

"These strangers have already bewitched the men of Kultaka," observed Hoxitl. "After they killed Takamal, something our bravest warriors have been unable to do, though not for want of trying, for many years!"

Chical bowed to Naltecona, ignoring the other two. "As my lord wishes, so it shall be. When will the strangers arrive in Palul?"

"They departed from Kultaka two days ago, and they march quickly. They could reach Palul in four more days – six at the most – so we must move quickly and quietly. We will send ambassadors to greet them, to offer presents, and to prepare the banquet. In the meantime, I want you to gather the force I have described.

"You are to march for Palul no later than tomorrow morning."

"Did you find out what all the excitement was about?" asked Halloran, when Poshtli returned to the house just after noon.

Two days earlier, they had both seen long columns of warriors filing out of the sacred plaza. They deduced that the march had something to do with Cordell, but Poshtli had been frustrated in his constant efforts to learn more. Now he returned to the house on the third day, and Hal feared that he wouldn't learn anything until it was too late.

The former knight had accepted Hal's offer to share his dwelling, since the lodge of the Eagles was no longer his home. Neither of them had wanted to remain in the palace, despite Naltecona's assurances of their safety.

The Revered Counselor, however, had been as good as his word in providing a residence for Hal. Indeed, the house was a dwelling that might have sheltered a high nobleman or esteemed sage in Faerun, so sumptuous were its appointments.

The structure stood near the sacred plaza, at the intersection of two streets and a canal. Adobe bricks, whitewashed to a gleaming brightness on the outside, formed the wall around the rooms and large courtyard of the dwelling. The house was two stories high, with three large rooms on the first floor surrounding the open courtyard.

Halloran hadn't yet been comfortable in the house, however. His mind whirled with anxiety for Erixitl. He hoped that she had reached Palul safely, that she would remain safe from the likes of the Jaguar Knights who had struck in the palace. He couldn't understand why Poshtli didn't show more concern, why he didn't go to her.

Yet Hal couldn't ask Poshtli such a question, with its implications of dishonor. He had thought about going to her himself, but then he remembered the eagerness with which she had left him. He felt certain he wouldn't be welcomed by her now.

At times, in the depths of his despair, he even considered returning to the legion. Perhaps he could return Darien's spellbook to the wizard, and everything… He quickly dismissed such thoughts, remembering the hatred of wizard and cleric both. No, the legion meant death for him.

So he tried to study the spellbook. He exercised Storm, polished his weapons and armor, or stalked through the rooms of his house, wasting time while he waited for Poshtli to find out what was happening.

These rooms included a small anteroom, with brilliant frescoes on the walls depicting birds, snakes, and jaguars in a tropical setting. The anteroom led into the flower -and tree – filled courtyard, where a turn to the left took one into a large chamber with a fireplace and many thick straw mats on the floor. Halloran finally found himself growing used to the Maztican custom of sitting on these mats, though he had resolved to make himself a chair sometime soon.

The other room on the first floor was a cooking room, with a firepit and several bins for storing mayz, beans, and fruit. The upstairs rooms were four sleeping chambers, a pair of small rooms for slaves, and a wide balcony overlooking the canal. The landward sides of the house and courtyard were surrounded by its outer walls. The courtyard met the canal with no barrier, however, and Hal had soon purchased a canoe that he kept tied up there.

Storm, meanwhile, lived in the courtyard. Hal rode the mare frequently, since the Mazticans thrilled to the sight of the great horse. He often rode him about the sacred plaza or the city streets.

Naltecona had assigned several slaves to Halloran, to perform his cooking and whatever other tasks he desired. His slaves included an old man, Gankak; the fellow's hardworking wife, Jaria; and a pair of young women, Horo and Chantil.

Since Hal was uncomfortable with the notion of owning another human being, he resolved to treat the slaves as servants. He tried to grant them privileges, such as a day of no work, and a few cocoa beans to spend in the market. To his surprise, he found that the slaves purchased items for him with the beans. As to the day off, they only stopped working when he ordered them to do so.

Then, after a week in the house, they had seen the massive columns of warriors filing from the sacred plaza, leaving the city by its southeast causeway.

"What's going on? It must be Cordell they're marching against! Did you learn anything?" Halloran bombarded Poshtli with questions.

"That's why I'm late. I finally had some luck," explained the Maztican. "All the captains of the Eagles were gone, and the apprentices didn't know much. They got called to arms in a hurry, by the order of Naltecona. It's very secret, and at first I thought I wouldn't learn anything."

"But?"

"One of the young fellows – he's always been a favorite of mine – talked to me after the exercise. I came here as soon as I could after he told me."

"Told you what? Tell me, man!" Halloran grew cold with apprehension, his fear centering around Erixitl. "Where are they going?"

"They go to ambush the legion," said Poshtli, taking a deep breath. "At Palul!"

The sound of his words still echoed through the house as Hal's face whitened in alarm. Erix! She was in Palul! "I'm going to get her," he blurted. In seconds, he gathered his arms, armor, and saddle. As he started toward the courtyard, he saw the warrior standing at the door, holding his own steel sword.