Serpent and Storm (28 page)

Sky Knife walked through the camp carefully—equipment lay scattered all over in small piles as if gathered quickly from many places. Everyone who saw him bowed, but only those within a few yards of him waited for Sky Knife to address them before returning to what they were doing.

At the far eastern end of the camp flew the king's banner. The last rays of the setting sun touched the western mountains and spilled onto the green feathers of the cape. Beneath the cape stood Grasping Fire, Talking Storm, and several warriors. As Sky Knife got closer, he recognized one of them as Streak-of-Mist.

Grasping Fire glanced up and saw Sky Knife. He waved the Mayan priest closer. The warriors made room for him, bowing slightly as he came up to them.

“What's going on?” asked Sky Knife as the last rays of sunlight died when the sun slipped behind the mountains.

“Dusk,” announced Grasping Fire. “You're prompt. Good. Let's get started.”

“No!” A screaming child rushed past Sky Knife.

Jaguar's Daughter ran out of the tent. “Where did he go?” she asked.

“Serpent and storm,” said Grasping Fire. “Can't you keep him under control?”

“I'll get him,” said Sky Knife. He jogged in the direction Black Coyote had taken.

The boy had hidden himself between a pile of rolled-up leather shields and a tent. In the fading dusk light, it was hard to see him, but the boy gave himself away by constantly peeking over the pile.

“Black Coyote?” he asked.

The boy made no move. Sky Knife sat down on the other side of the pile of shields.

“You know,” said Sky Knife after a few moments, “at times like this, I always get scared. What about you?”

Black Coyote rustled around behind the pile but didn't answer.

“When I was little,” said Sky Knife, “my father would come into the house smelling like sweat and dust. And when something happened to frighten me, he'd come over and tell me that Itzamna watched out over little boys and would make sure I was all right.”

Black Coyote peeked around the pile. Sky Knife didn't look directly at him.

“When my father died, I thought that meant Itzamna didn't care about me,” said Sky Knife. “But I was wrong.”

“My father died,” said Black Coyote.

Sky Knife's heart ached for the boy. Not only had he lost his father, but his mother's brother sought the mat, and his best friend would be sacrificed before his eyes very, very soon. Sky Knife hoped the Corn Priest and Jaguar's Daughter had done their best to prepare Black Coyote for his ascension to the mat of rulership.

The Corn Priest walked up, anger in every move of his tall thin frame. His gray braids looked orange in the light of the torches held by the servants that surrounded him. “There you are,” he said upon spying Black Coyote. “You're a bad boy to frighten your mother like that. Come out at once.”

Black Coyote crept out of his hiding place. The Corn Priest grabbed the boy's wrist and pulled him along after him. Black Coyote turned back and kept his eyes on Sky Knife.

Sky Knife watched them go and wished there was something he could do to comfort the boy. But he had no idea what that something might be. He sighed, got up, and walked back to the tent where Grasping Fire's meeting was being held.

28

The warriors at the entrance to the tent bowed to Sky Knife. One of them pulled the flap of the tent back and Sky Knife went in.

Seated on pillows in a circle were Talking Storm, Lily-on-the-Water, Jaguar's Daughter, Amaranth, Grasping Fire, the Corn Priest, and the two remaining army commanders, Grass and Streak-of-Mist. An empty pillow remained to the right of Grasping Fire.

Sky Knife sat on the pillow, uneasy at taking such a place of honor, but no one else seemed to think it strange. He nodded to the others.

Grasping Fire turned to him and laid his hand on Sky Knife's shoulder. “I'm glad you could join us, my friend. We have not had the opportunity to thank you for your rescue of the king and the twin, although we haven't yet had a chance to ask you how you came to accomplish it. Your guide has not been able to give us many details, and Deer has not awakened since he was brought in. I hope you will feel well enough when this is all over to tell us about it.”

“Certainly,” said Sky Knife. “Much happened that I don't understand. I hope Talking Storm and Lily-on-the-Water will be able to help me.”

Talking Storm, looking pleased, bowed slightly. Lily-on-the-Water nodded.

“Good. But now for the task at hand. Dark Lightning has agreed to meet us on the field of battle, with honor, just after dawn,” said Grasping Fire. “This much you know.” Grasping Fire glanced toward Sky Knife and made it a question. Sky Knife nodded.

“It's folly,” said Talking Storm. “In the open he can't hope to defeat you. He has to have some trick in mind.”

“My brother knows about honor,” said Jaguar's Daughter.

“It is apparent he does not, Mistress,” said Amaranth, “or we would not be here discussing a battle.”

Jaguar's Daughter looked about to protest, but the Corn Priest laid a hand on her arm and she said nothing.

“Indeed,” said Grasping Fire. “Your pardon, Jaguar's Daughter, but your brother has never had much sense. And don't forget, he has claimed you as a wife—he must be mad.”

“Mad or not, we'll be meeting him tomorrow on the field,” said Grass.

“Are your warriors ready?” asked Grasping Fire.

“They are,” said Grass. “Streak-of-Mist and I will position the dart men in front with the spear men behind.”

“Dark Lightning has few dart men,” said Streak-of-Mist. “And I'm sure he's equipping his ballplayers with spears. So the advantage will be ours at the outset.”

“There must be something we're missing,” said Sky Knife. “If we have such an advantage, surely Dark Lightning knows it as well as we do.”

“Yes,” said Grasping Fire. “I have asked the Corn Priest to divine the truth for us.”

The Corn Priest squirmed on his pillow. “The copal had nothing to say on the matter,” he said. “The bones said only that a great darkness will come unless another Forked-Tongue Serpent rises up.”

“Black Coyote is hardly old enough to be another Forked-Tongue Serpent,” said Grasping Fire. “So, in other words, you learned nothing.”

The Corn Priest shrugged. “The signs are cloudy,” he said.

“What of the Masked One?” asked Sky Knife. “And the Storm God? Surely they have made their wishes known.”

Lily-on-the-Water spared a disgusted look for the Corn Priest before turning to Sky Knife. “The Masked One has been silent since you entered her womb,” she said. “I feel she will not speak to me again unless we prepare the Water Ceremony for her.”

Talking Storm gestured toward Sky Knife. “The Storm God has sent us a sign in Sky Knife,” he said. “I didn't think so at first, you all know. But he has proved it by his mighty deeds yesterday and today. With the Storm God, and his omen, Sky Knife, we cannot fail.”

Sky Knife squirmed. Jaguar's Daughter, too, had thought him an omen. It was strange, to think that some foreign gods about which he knew nothing valued him so highly.

“We can't accomplish anything more here tonight,” said Jaguar's Daughter. “You will meet my brother on the field and one or the other will prevail.”

“And you will be either the mother of the king or the wife of your brother,” said Lily-on-the-Water with a sneer.

The Corn Priest bristled. “You imply that the Daughter of the Spotted Jaguar would agree to marry her brother? You would do well to watch your tongue.”

“Watch your own, Corn Priest,” said Lily-on-the-Water. “Your time is over.”

Sky Knife waited for the Corn Priest to make some reply to Lily-on-the-Water, but the older man seemed to sink within himself. The Corn Priest stared at a point just in front of his nose and his shoulders slumped.

“Then Grass and Streak-of-Mist, I expect you to have your warriors ready for review an hour before dawn. Jaguar's Daughter—make sure you have both eyes on your son. We don't need him running off again. We were lucky to have Sky Knife here to rescue him once. We would be tempting the gods to let our king slip out of our hands twice.”

Jaguar's Daughter bowed to Grasping Fire.

“Lily-on-the-Water, if you feel the Masked One requires the Water Ceremony to be performed, perform it as soon as possible. We cannot afford to offend her now.”

Lily-on-the-Water nodded. “We will perform the Water Ceremony as soon as I can make the arrangements. Sky Knife, you should be there. I will send for you when it is time.”

Sky Knife, surprised, nodded but could think of nothing to say.

“Then let's get as much rest as we can before the dawn,” said Grasping Fire. He rose and the others did the same. Sky Knife scrambled to his feet.

As the others left, Grasping Fire laid a hand on Sky Knife's shoulder. “Thank you again,” he said. “The life of my brother's son means more to me than I can say.”

“Enough to answer a question for me?” asked Sky Knife.

Grasping Fire nodded. “I told you once—it seems a long time ago—that I would aid you in finding my brother's murderer any way I could. What is your question?”

“Twice now people have told me that you cannot be king,” said Sky Knife. “Why do you suppose that would be?”

Grasping Fire looked surprised. “Who says this?”

“Dark Lightning, for one,” said Sky Knife. “I'm not necessarily inclined to believe him, but he said you couldn't be king because you're a murderer.”

Grasping Fire hesitated. He wiped his forehead with a hand. “It's true that a murderer cannot ascend the mat,” he said. “And that means I shall never be king. I did kill someone once, out of anger and jealousy. It was … long ago.”

“Would anyone know this?” asked Sky Knife. “Anyone who would be willing to use it to prevent your becoming king if Black Coyote dies without a son?”

“I have other brothers who could be king in my place,” said Grasping Fire. “Your king is one. But they have scattered to rule their own cities elsewhere. I'm not sure any would be willing to return here where the king is more figurehead than ruler.”

“But who knows?” asked Sky Knife. “Besides Dark Lightning.”

“I didn't know he knew,” said Grasping Fire. “I didn't think anyone knew except…” He stopped.

“Except?” prompted Sky Knife.

“Except the merchant, Cacao,” said Grasping Fire. “He drains my wealth on the promise that he will not reveal my secret.”

“So in exchange for your wealth, he remains silent,” said Sky Knife. No wonder Cacao could afford to drink chocolate every day. He had not only his own wealth and that of his wife, but Grasping Fire's as well—and who knew who else's. “How did he find out?”

“His mother's brother was the man I killed,” said Grasping Fire. “He didn't see it, but he knew what must have happened, and I … I was too frightened at the time to stand up to him.”

“Lord Sky Knife,” announced someone outside the tent.

Grasping Fire went to the tent flap and opened it. “Who seeks Sky Knife?” he asked.

“Lily-on-the-Water insists on his presence in her tent,” said the man. “Immediately.”

Grasping Fire grunted. “That was quick. Well, tell Lily-on-the-Water Sky Knife will be there shortly.”

“He is to come with me, Lord,” said the man.

“Then you can wait here for him,” said Grasping Fire.

“He is to come with me
now,
Lord,” said the man.

Grasping Fire closed the tent flap in the other man's face and came back to Sky Knife. “Sounds as though she's serious about having you attend this Water Ceremony,” he said.

“What is it?” asked Sky Knife.

“I don't know,” said Grasping Fire. “I don't recall someone who was not a priest or priestess of the Masked One ever attending one. Perhaps Lily-on-the-Water wants to take advantage of whatever divine approval you carry with you.”

“Lord,” said the man outside the tent.

Grasping Fire rolled his eyes and frowned, wrinkling the bridge of his crooked nose. “Now you see how much respect a king of Teotihuacan gets from his own people?” he asked. “So tell me, who would want to be one?”

Sky Knife bowed to Grasping Fire and left, thinking very much the same thing. But it seemed Dark Lightning wanted to be king. The question was, why? And who would benefit?

Sky Knife walked out of the tent to be met by a man dressed in the blue tiered skirts of a servant of the Masked One.

“I haven't seen any priests of the Masked One before,” said Sky Knife in surprise. Previously, he had only seen priestesses in such robes.

“There are a few of us, Lord,” said the man stiffly. “Please, follow me.”

Sky Knife nodded and followed the other man into the night.

29

The priest led Sky Knife through the camp. The tents, spaced in orderly east–west rows, glowed from hearthfires within. In the darkness of the night, the glowing tents lent the air a strange misty quality Sky Knife had never experienced before. It was both beautiful and eerie.

The warriors and servants that bustled around did not seem to notice Sky Knife's outfit in the darkness. No one bowed to him or remarked him in any way. Sky Knife was relieved.

At every campfire stood warriors outfitted with obsidian-tipped spears. The thin spearpoints reflected the firelight brilliantly.

Some warriors stood staring into space, while others sat in small groups throwing bones in games of chance. An occasional ragged cheer went up when someone threw the bones well. The atmosphere was tense and expectant.

“Here,” said the priest. He stopped in front of a huge tent. It was easily three times as big as the tent where the meeting had been held.