"Is that the night's entertainment ended, then?" quoth Tlaloc, half to himself, as he took another draught of cactus wine from an elaborately carved obsidian cup and gazed upon the naked, exhausted forms of the several concubines he had taken for his nightly pleasure. Receiving silence for an answer, he drained his cup, and then crashed down on his soft cushions, his head spinning as his body felt carried by invisible hands onto a warm, soft cushion of air.
Thus had he spent every night since the departure of his sister and brother-in-law – to all others, the King and Queen. Since the rapid elevation in his fortunes nigh on a dozen years before, he had taken with ease to the luxuries and diversions which offered themselves to him at every turn – luxuries and diversions which, beyond the simple act of coupling, were far beyond his imagination when he was a clean-limbed youth living in a small village in the high mountain forests of southern Mayapan. If nothing else, the Xantlantacans had perfected the arts of pleasure during their long years of bondage to Kukulkan, as if in compensation for the blood-curdling sacrifices he had demanded until Conan had put an end to them, soon after taking the throne for himself. Now the sacrifices were gone, but the pleasures remained – an agreeable situation, as it seemed to Tlaloc.
He had heard nothing of his brother or sister since their strange departure some weeks before, silencing the astonished and fearful courtiers, who seemingly were unable to imagine the sudden departure of the Feathered Serpent on an unknown errand, by proving his seal of office in his new role as regent in the King's absence. Conan and Huitzil had not explained their purpose, but Tlaloc had learned better than to question Conan's judgment – he had no doubt they would return, sooner or later, and probably with no more explanation than when they had left given how taciturn Conan had been of late. He would have to see if he could pry the truth from his sister instead.
His young niece, Huitzilipochtili, was still but a young girl who had not yet felt the first stirrings of womanhood, and so offered him nothing in the way of company or conversation – he had left her entirely to the care of her nursemaids at court. With no visible enemies within our without to Conan's new empire, uniting Xlantlantacans, Mayapani, and Quechalnti under one ruler, the bureaucracy of the court running on its own good time as it always had, and his old friends amongst the Mayapani distanced from him now by his own royal rank, there had been nothing for Tlaloc to do another than take his sensual indulgences to new levels – which he had done and with gusto.
As Tlaloc sank deeper into slumber, these fleeting thoughts soon faded into the dull haze of deeper sleep, and like all sleepers he fell into the shadowy realm between life and death, matter and spirit, time and eternity. A vague stirring in the void caused Tlaloc to regain some level of awareness, yet in his dream state he began to wish it had not – for he soon found himself in the icy grip of fear, as all before him faded into a blackness, darker than the darkest night.
Panicking now, wondering if he had slipped beyond the bounds of life into the night-black realm of the netherworld as the wages to be paid for overindulgence in all sensual pleasures, Tlaloc tried to will himself to wake up, and find himself once again in the land of the living. But it was not to be. Instead, a dim, ruddy glow appeared before him, which in time took the form of a large fire streaming forth from a heavy brazier, carved out of some metal unknown to him. The fire cast shadows about, revealing him to be in vast hall, seemingly without limit, of heavy stone pillars reaching upward into the void, though rooted in a floor of massive slaps of crudely cut stone.
Fearing now that he was indeed in the Halls of Judgment, to which the spirits of all Mayapani were fated to arrive upon their deaths, Tlaloc awaited the arrival of the fearsome demons who were the guardians of the netherworld, and who informed the departed of the judgment of Kukulkan upon them before leading them either to an eternity of response in the sombre gardens of twilight, or of torment in the caves of the forgotten. Or so the Mayapani at least believed.
Hours passed as it seemed in that place, timeless as it was, and yet Tlaloc found himself rooted to the spot and still utterly alone. But then, two fires glowing with an angry crimson glare appeared in the darkness beyond the flames. Tlaloc's soul froze with horror as he realized they were two lidless eyes, their baleful gaze fixed squarely upon him.
Then there was a shifting and writhing in the darkness, and Tlaloc screamed aloud as he saw the true form of the being before him – a giant serpent, its scales carved of ebon, its fangs dripping with steaming venom, and its crimson-eyed stare beyond all endurance. It seemed to sprout vast dark wings from its slithering form, which unfolded themselves almost to envelop him, though their substance seemed insubstantial when compared to the hard scales that covered its writhing coils.
"Silence, mortal!" boomed the serpent in a deep, powerful voice that echoed into infinity. "Cease mewling like a timid mouse, even if that is what you are. Know you not that you stand in the present of your god, Kukulkan?"
Tlaloc found himself unable to move or speak, and it seemed only the dark will of Kukulkan kept him from dying a second death in his terror.
"Cease your thoughts of death," continued Kulkulkan, whom it seemed could read Tlaloc's mind with ease. "You stand not in the netherworld – at least, not in your netherworld. You are in my own halls, where none dwelleth but myself. And I have summoned you here, not to suffer your own judgment, up to enact my judgment upon the world of the living!"
"I am yours to command, O Great Kulkulkan," Tlaloc found himself saying in reply, his voice strained and hoarse, though in fact he had never enthusiastically worshiped that dark god even in his early youth, when all Mayapani were forced to pay tribute to him.
"You will bring my judgment against the thrice-accursed traitor, Conan of the Isles!" intoned Kukulkan, his crimson eyes narrowing into slits of flame. "I gave him my ultimate reward for mortal men, ascension to the Dragon Throne, the throne of the Feathered Serpent, to rule over all the lands of Mayapan. And yet he has betrayed me most foully!"
"Do, do you refer to his cessation of the sacrifices, my lord?" asked Tlaloc in a quaking voice.
"That is but an insult to me, and the outward form of his inward treason," hissed Kukulkan in reply. "His treason runs to far deeper roots. For he has not only ceased the sacrifices which are my due, endangering the faith of mortal men in my power; he has betrayed me further by braking his sacred pact with me, for which I granted him his power and his rule. And worst of all, he has made alliance with my most vile enemy, the demon God of the Deeps, whose name I shall not hear uttered in these halls!"
"I, I know of whom you speak," answered Tlaloc – all Mayapani knew that the Quechalnti worshipped the drowned and dreaming god Kuthlan. "But what is this pact which my…which Conan broke?"
"That is no concern of yours, mortal!" replied Set, his wings enfolding more closely about Tlaloc, who quavered before him. "Kulkulkan need explain himself to no man. What I require from you is to enact my vengeance, and in the manner that I command. And beyond my commands, you have your own good motives to seek vengeance against Conan; for he has betrayed your own dear sister, Huitzil, to her death!"
"My sister?" gasped Tlaloc, his fear turning to shock. "What say you, my lord? My own Huitzil lies dead?"
"Aye, she is dead," replied Kukulkan, a shiver passing through his scaled and winged form. "Betrayed by Conan, sacrificed by him to the evil, lying priests of the Drowned God, in exchange for their aid against me!"
His mind reeling, Tlaloc found himself unable to believe what Kukulkan had told him – even though the source of the words was a god, and he was but a mortal man. "O great one" stammered Tlaloc, "How could Conan have done such a thing? And why? She was his wife as well as my sister, and the mother of their child!"
"The ambition of men knows no bounds," demurred Kulkulkan, "and some men will betray all, even those nearest and dearest to them, to satiate their desire for limitless power. Such a one is Conan! He risked death and destruction to you and your tribe years ago, by defying the tribunes of Xlantlantaca when they sought the annual sacrifice from your village. Again he risked the lives of you and your menfolk in open war against me my servants, the Xlantlantacans, into which he lead you by false and cloying words when you never would have defied me of your own volition. All so that he could gain a throne for himself!"
"In spite of all," continued Kukulkan, "I made a pact with him, to restore peace and prosperity to my people, and yet he repaid me by ending the sacrifices which are my due, and all that I have asked in exchange for the blessings of land and plenty that I have bestowed on your folk and those of Xlantlantca since time immemorial. And this he did simply to prove his own power, and pose as a god over your people in his own right! Can it surprise you now that he would betray even his wife, your own dear sister, in furtherance of his limitless ambitions?"
As Tlaloc pondered Kukulkan's words, a strange calm came over his mind as if suddenly and for the first time, he could see Conan as he truly was – a barbarian outlander and usurper who served no one but himself, and cared for nothing other than himself. Was not his sudden abdication of his responsibilities as king, but a few weeks before, further proof of the man's real nature?
"And though my own word should suffice for you, mortal," continued Kukulkan, "there is proof enough of my words in your own material plane, waiting for you to uncover it! For the remains of your own poor sister lie in the recesses of the cultist's lair of my nemesis, by the shores of the Western Sea, to whose doorway I can easily give you direction by guiding you through your own second sight. Take a detachment of warriors to that accursed spot, and you will find what remains of your sister, yet with no trace remaining of Conan himself – for his has fled that evil place, now that his use for her is at an end."
The gnawing conviction that every word spoken by Kulkulkan was true now formed in Tlaloc's mind, and he began to feel the first traces of black anger towards Conan stirring in his heart.
"And should I find my sister's body there, my lord," asked Tlaloc, his voice clearer and calmer than before, "what then shall I do?""
"Slay the cultists who sacrificed her," replied Kukulkan, "and all Quechanlti who stand in your way. Then seek Conan himself! For I can see him from afar, and lead you to him once you have seen the truth of my words for yourself, and are motivated not merely by your fear of me, but by your own healthy desire for revenge!"
"And when I do find him?" asked Tlaloc, less certainly.
"You will slay him, and then taken from his dead hands the Crystal Skull. Then when I deem the time to be right, you will deliver the Skull to me! In exchange, I will make you the Feathered Serpent, king of all Mayapan, in Conan's place, and pledge that your own heirs shall sit upon the throne in perpetuity!"
"But, my lord," replied Tlaloc, again uncertainly, "how am I to stand against the power of the Crystal Skull? With it Conan has the power of a god himself!"
"A false god, an imposter!" hissed Kukulkan, his eyes flashing as Tlaloc again quavered before him. "But much must be risked in war. Do you what you must, even if you must raise the whole army of Xlantlantca against him! Do not stop until you hold Conan's head in one hand, and the Crystal Skull in the other! Then your own throne will be your own reward – and you will deserve it infinitely more than the wretch who holds it now!"
"I will seek out my sister as you command, my lord," replied Tlaloc with all sincerity. "And if I find her as you say, I will not stop until Conan lies dead, and the Crystal Skull is delivered up to you when you command! And my own throne…"
"Shall be your reward," acknowledged Kukulkan. "Such is my pact you with mortal, and Kukulkan always honours his pacts to the last degree. Now go, and do not fail me!"
There was a sudden clap of thunder, and Tlaloc found himself wide awake and standing naked in his chamber, as the light of day streamed in through the narrow open windows, illuminating the scene of debauchery which appeared unchanged from the night before.
"Out, out you damned whores!" shouted Tlaloc, full of purpose, kicking one of them as she stirred fitfully in her drugged slumber. "Guards! Attend to me at once!"
Within moments several Eagle and Jaguar warriors streamed into his chamber, ignoring his nakedness and that of his consorts, their faces grim as always. "Command us, my lord!" cried the tallest of them, a scar-faced Jaguar warrior armed with a wooden club edged with jagged obsidian – he was duty-bound to obey Tlaloc's commands as Regent of the Feathered Serpent, just as he would those of the Feathered Serpent himself.
"Get these whores out of here, and fetch me food and drink, at once," replied Tlaloc, "and then arm and equip me for combat. You and a hundred other elite warriors, armed and equipped for a journey of several weeks will accompany me this very day on a mission of the highest importance! I shall disclose its purpose to you when we arrive at our destination. Surely shall not be gone more than several weeks' time, so no need to appoint a vice-regent in my absence from the city."
"At once my liege!" replied the man. As they fell to their orders, Tlaloc turned to one of the windows, facing west, and commanding a broad view over the city and towards the pine-covered hills that marked the western rim of the broad valley in which it lay.
"My dear sister," said Tlaloc, half to himself, "if you lie dead by the hand of the one we both trusted with our lives and fates, then I swear by all the gods you will be avenged!" Turning his glance back inside his chamber, towards his dazed concubines as they were ushered from the room by the harsh cries of his coolly efficient warriors, he whispered half to himself, with a trace of a smile, "and if a throne is into the bargain, so much the better!"
Some days later, Tlaloc and his-five score warriors, all marching on foot as the warriors of that land had always done having no steeds at their disposal, found themselves on the barren flatlands west of the hills that skirted the Western Ocean in those parts. The morning waxed hot under a bright blue sky and a fierce sun, but in spite of the fine weather the mood of Tlaloc and his men was grim, though in the case of the latter clouded by confusion as to their purpose.
"If I may, my lord," said one of Tlaloc's officers, an Eagle warrior, "though we have held sway over these lands these past ten years and more, still we should double our watchfulness in the plains. These are still lands claimed by the Quechalnti, and they never disarmed their forces when they accepted the suzerainty of our Feathered Serpent, our Emperor Conan. They may well view our presence here, armed and unannounced, as a provocation."
"All the more in these parts particularly," said another man, an aging Jaguar warrior. "There are long-standing rumours that this is an evil place, and somewhere near the shore lies a cult centre of those sea-devil worshippers."
"I am pleased to hear it," replied Tlaloc, puffing slightly as he reflected on how much his physical condition and lithe form had deteriorated after over a decade of drinking and whoring. Maintaining a resolute expression on his face, he continued, "That evil place, wherever exactly it may be in these parts, is precisely our objective! I have my own reasons for seeking it out, which you shall learn soon enough."
"My lord," replied the Eagle warrior, an expression of unease on his hawklike swarthy features, "do you mean to despoil one of the accursed cult sites of he who is not to be named? Kukulkan shall surely show favour to you if you do – and yet, all the same, the army of Xlantalaca has long refrained from so doing, even in the old days, for fear of stirring up open war with the Quechalnti. There are not only a strange and evil folk, but a powerful folk as well, with their weapons and armour made out of their unholy metal. We know not how to work metal save in gold and copper, and yet their blades cut through our own obsidian ones as if they were dry reeds. Has our liege Conan…"
"Ask not what Conan thinks or commands!" shot back Tlaloc, his voice heavy with genuine anger now. "He has purposes of his own it seems, and I am in command in his absence. You will obey my orders as if they were those of Kukulkan himself!"
"As you command, my lord," replied the Eagle warrior, though he and the Jaguar warrior exchanged dark glances at each other while wisely remaining silent.
The day wore on until, at length, Tlaloc and his warriors found themselves by the steep ochre cliffs of the Western Ocean, whose deep indigo waters rolled on endlessly towards the far horizon, where a few trace clouds were beginning to stain crimson with the light of the setting sun, now a huge, scarlet orb as it hung suspended as it seemed just above the sea. But the beauty of the scene was lost on Tlaloc and his men; all of them had for generations learned to fear that strangest of all seas, and the dark, dreaming god whom legend said dwelt therein. Tlaloc himself had never seen this sea before in his whole life from its shore, though he had many times glimpsed it from afar from the mountains of his highland home in the narrow reaches of the far south of Mayapan. The dull echo of the waves crashing monotonously against the rocky shore seemed almost sinister in its unchanging rhythm, as if it were the heartbeat of Kuthlan himself.
"Shall we make camp now, my lord?" asked the Eagle warrior of Tlaloc. "And double our watch this night, in this strange place to which our folk of Xlantlantca rarely venture?"
"It is not nighttime yet," replied Tlaloc. "Before we pitch camp, first send out runners within three leagues in all directions along the coast. I want reports of trails, tracks, anything to show where a shrine of the sea-devil might lie along the shore of these parts."
"Then it is as we thought…er, I mean, as you command, my lord," replied the Eagle warrior, before turning and barking orders to several Ocelot warriors, all trained scouts, who fanned out quickly in both directions along the cost, jogging along on the roughed soles of their bare feet.
Some time passed as Tlaloc and his remaining warriors stood silently by the edge of the cliff, leaning their weight on their spears as the sun sank lower and lower into the west, staining the sky with crimson and vermillion before it died its nightly death. Twilight came rapidly, and the first bright stars appeared in the gloaming when one of the runners returned.
"My lord," said he, an Ocelot warrior, "I think I've found something. A narrow trail, heading down a gully, leading to a cleft in the rocks by the end. Even in this light I can see it is well-travelled, indeed most recently within the last few days I would reckon."
"Interesting," mused Tlaloc. "Though it could be many things – are you sure it's not just the cave home of some primitive fishing tribe?"
"Yet no tracks run to the sea, my lord," replied the scout. "No boats, no docks either."
"And heard you any sounds, saw you any lights in this cave or crack of yours?" asked Tlaloc.
"No lights, my lord," replied the scout. "Sounds I could not tell, for the echoes of the waves crashing against the shore almost deafened me."
"Then perhaps we have found what we seek," replied Tlaloc. "At least I deem it worthy of full exploration. Guardsmen!" he cried, turning to the others. "Five of you – yes, you five by my right - shall remain here to gather up our other scouts as they return. The rest shall accompany this scout and myself – for darkness or no, I shall find out this night if we are near the object of our quest! If it is a false lead, then we will return to this spot to make camp for the night, and continue our search in the morning."
"As you command, my lord!" cried the assembled men, rapidly falling into marching formation behind Tlaloc, who in turn followed the scout as he retraced his steps. In spite of the gathering gloom he did so effortlessly, gathering the fruits of his years of careful training in his role to follow trails and tracks by night as easily as by day.
It was fully dark and under a moonless sky before Tlaloc and his men reached the edge of the ravine. Not all of the warriors were as adept and marching in darkness as the scout, and several of them had already tripped and jostled each other even over the level ground that led to its edge.
"My lord," said the Eagle warrior, "I ask you to reconsider your plan, and not venture into yon chasm until the morrow. Surely whatever errand summons us here can wait a few more hours! To descend down there, in the dark, defies all sense. We could be walking into an ambush, and yet not see…"
"Do you question my authority?" replied Tlaloc coolly. "Or is it that you lack faith in Kukulkan?"
"Neither, my lord," replied the man with a slight stammer. "But if you insist on going ahead, at least may we light our torches? If we walk into a trap, better that we can see something than be as blind as bats"
"You are of course right," acknowledged Tlaloc, who realized that his desperate desire to learn his sister's fate had clouded his judgment. "But I still wish to keep such advantages as the dark provides to us, namely cover for our advance, just as it seems the echoes of the waves in that narrow place will stifle the sounds of our trampling feet. We will light the torches before entry into the mouth of this cave or crack, if it indeed seems worth entering."
"As you command, my lord," replied the Eagle warrior, seemingly relieved that he had persuaded his master not to enter what might well be a cult place of the sea-devil worshippers in pitch blackness as he had seemed determined to do.
Without further word, the scout led the way forward, Tlaloc and his men following carefully behind. The trail was narrow, and yet well-trodden enough that then men could find their footing even in the dark, proceeding slowly and with care. The waves of the sea crashed and echoed ever more loudly against the shore, drowning out the sounds of their footsteps just as Tlaloc had predicted. The sea itself was midnight black, as were the walls of the gorge, with only the stars far above casting their feeble light into the all-encompassing dark to remind them that they still walked in the waking world of men.
At length they arrived at the base of the trail, and the scout found the crack in the rocks by feeling along with his hands. "This is it, my lord," said the scout, "barely wide enough for a man to enter. We will have to go through single-file, if that is your command."
"It is," replied Tlaloc grimly. "But first, light the torches."
This command was carried out within some minutes, until the torches provided the only cheerful light amid the gloom. At a signal from Tlaloc, the scout entered first, followed by the main body of the men, while he brought up the rear.
The passage went sharply downhill, narrow and cramped, the torchlights casting bizarre shadows off the elaborate headgear of the warriors. The air became dank and close, but in spite of their attempt at silence the passage echoed loudly with the muffled footfalls of over a hundred pairs of leather-soled feet.
In time the passage straightened out, gradually becoming wider, and as it did so the sense of menace in the air increased palpably, as if unseen eyes watched them from every corner where a torch failed to cast its light.
In time the passageway opened out into a large, domed chamber, which they entered cautiously though it seemed devoid of any occupants. There was a heavy, oppressive scent in the air, almost sickly sweet.
"What now, my lord?" asked the scout. "We are easy targets for an ambush in these grim halls, if they be tenanted at all. What are we searching for, if I may ask plainly?"
Tlaloc was silent for some moments, and then responded, "I will tell you plainly, now that we are put to it. We search for my dear sister, your Queen, who I fear may have met her end in this grim place!"
There were sharp exclamations from the men present, which echoed loudly throughout the grim chamber, and down the many other passageways that seemed to lead out of it amid the gloom into a subterranean labyrinth of vast size and, perhaps, unspeakable age.
"But how can such a thing be? Why would you even suspect it?" demanded the Eagle warrior, who after Tlaloc was senior in rank to all of the men present. "The Feathered Serpent would never permit such a thing, no matter what private errand he and his queen were on. The power of Kukulkan, by whose grace he is invested with his rank, and the power of the Crystal Skull which serves it seems his kingly will, surely would both combine to prevent such a catastrophe!"
"You may accuse me of blasphemy if you wish, however subtly," replied Tlaloc cooly, "but you need not take my word for it. I want this place searched, now, top to bottom, for any sign of my sister. If she is not here, or if she is alive and unharmed, my suspicions may be unfounded, and unless we hear more from the other scouts I sent out along the coast earlier this evening I will admit my error and we may all return to Xlantlantaca. But if there is any sign that she is here and has been harmed, or worse, then … we shall see where the facts lead us."
"I hear and obey, my lord," replied the Eagle warrior, reciting the formula that was standard in response to such an order - though his black eyes scowled suspiciously at Tlaloc, whom from his own private standpoint was a Mayapani outlander elevated to a high station far beyond his capabilities or desserts.
The warriors then fanned out into the broad chambers, while Tlaloc remained near the entrance. Their footfalls echoed loudly in the chamber, which seemed designed to make all sounds seem louder than they were, and the sense of menace in the air increased tenfold as the pressed further into the gloom.
Suddenly several sharp cries rang out, as the warriors began dropping right and left, thin darts dipped in green ichor piercing their flesh where it was bare!
"Ambush!" cried Tlaloc, as instantly the surviving warriors huddled into a defensive formation, those on the perimeter holding up their hide-covered wood-framed shields while the rest deployed their spears or clubs at the ready as the torches used up the spare hands they would need for slings and arrows. A blur of motion amid the shadows cast by the torchlight caught their eye, and they sent forth a volley of spears, which unleashed screams and cries of pain and rage in return from their unknown assailants.
"Rush them now, while they are off balance!" commanded Tlaloc, brandishing his spear as his warriors obeyed his command in battle without question, regardless of their private opinions concerning him.
It took only seconds for the warriors to dash across the length of the chamber, crashing straight into those of their assailants who still lived, as well as the freshly-slain bodies of their fellows. Struggling desperately in the dark against their half-seen foes, more cries and curses rang out as pierced, gutted and brained combatants ended each other's lives in a vicious, hand to hand combat.
But then just as suddenly as the storm arrived, it had passed; Tlaloc had lost a score of warriors, but the rest yet lived, and had taken several lean and lanky black-robed figures captive, their long arms bound firmly behind their backs, spearpoints at their throats.
"You dare to defile the temple of Kuthlan!" hissed one of the black-robed and cowled figures, his unseen eyes fixed on Tlaloc. "Insolent dog! You and your dust-crawling serpent worshippers shall all suffer torments unimaginable…"
"Kill that one!" replied Tlaloc coolly - and so it was done with a sudden thrust of a spear to the throat that caused the wretch to slump to the floor, blood and air gurgling out of the wound as his dark spirit departed his ruined frame for the lowest hells.
"Three of you captives yet live," continued Tlaloc, "though I need but one to answer my question. And my question is this – where is my sister, Huitzil, the Queen of Mayapan and Xlantlantca? For I have reason to believe she came to this accursed place, and by the gods I had best find her alive and unharmed, or it is you scum who shall suffer torments unspeakable!"
His blood then turned cold, as all three of the black-robed figures let out a hideous wheezing sound which he recognized as laughter. One of them then shook back his cowl with a jerk of his head, and stared Tlaloc squarely in the face with his ark-rimmed, fevered eyes that stood beneath a bald-shaven plate in an aged visage so gaunt as to be skeletal.
"So did your precious hummingbird visit out temple, my strutting little Quetzal!" he laughed. "Yet never was she known truly to you, your own brother – yes, we know well enough who you are, Tlaloc the drunkard! Your sister was claimed by us in spirit long ago, and lately she willingly turned herself over to us in body as well, to use as we pleased to the greater glory of Kuthlan! Ia Rl'yeh! And all this in the sight and with the full knowledge of your great king, your Feathered Serpent, your Conan of the Isles, who witnessed without word as we slit her throat and drained her life's blood into a steaming copper bowl to invoke the spirit of great Kuthlan himself!"
Gasps of horror and disbelief issued forth from the warriors of Xlantlantaca, their spearpoints wavering unsteadily, though Tlaloc stood still and silent as a statue – for after all, the cruel words he had just heard were what he had been led to expect, by the spirit of Kukulkan himself, in his vision of some days before. Yet even then, he was not so naïve as to take the words of a priest of Kuthlan as the truth.
"I trust not your words, sea-devil," replied Tlaloc, his hoarse voice revealing his inner struggle against his desire to tear the man's tongue out by its roots. "Show me her body if what you say is true, or I will know you for a liar."
"I care not what you think, nor whether I live or die in the service of Kuthlan," shrugged the priest. "But I will lead you to her all the same, if only for the joy of striking black sorrow in your heart before I pass on to my reward!"
"My lord, do not listen to his lies!" replied the Eagle warrior, the same who had questioned Tlaloc but some minutes before. "This dog seeks to slander our lord and master, the Feathered Serpent, and deny the power of our god Kukulkan, who would never permit his earthly avatar to shame himself so! This filth merely seeks to stir up dissension within our ranks!"
"We shall see what we shall see," replied Tlaloc. "You and a score of your warriors shall company me, and this fiend our captive also, while he leads us to my sister's body – or to another ambush, as the case may be. The rest shall wait here, and hold these other two as our living captives – I may yet have need of them, if I have cause to slay this one."
"As my lord commands," replied the Eagle warrior, with some effort, as if he could barely bring himself to assent to Tlaloc's commands. The other warriors mutter darkly amongst themselves, though their years of discipline prevented them from openly questioning Tlaloc when their own lieutenant remained subordinate to his will.
Bound with his hands behind his back, and an obsidian dagger held meaningfully near his throat, the black-clad priest of Kuthlan then nodded wordlessly to his captors, in the direction of one of the dark corridors that led out of the chamber.
Wordlessly they crept down the stone-flagged corridor, which soon became dank and close, and it seemed to the men that they must have passed below the level of the sea, so much moisture clung to the walls and hung in the air. The air soon became foul with a stench that unmistakably was not just that of damp or mildew, but that the sickly-sweet odor of rotten flesh.
In time the men were led into another domed chamber, smaller than the first, but built of the same design, and with yet more dark corridors radiating off of it to who knew what destination – truly this foul place seemed an endless hive of darkness and corruption. But in the centre of this room lay a deep pit, full to the brim with dead bodies in varying states of decomposition, from polished-clean dismembered skeletons to stiff, bloated corpses, and all manner of horrors in between.
Then men stared at this grim scene for some moments, unmoved it seems – for none of them save Tlaloc were strangers to the grim scenes of sacrifice at the black pyramids of Kukulkan in Xlantlantca itself. But then Tlaloc gave out a cry of horror and despair at the site of one of the pale, bloated forms – bearing over its rotten wrist a bracelet of rare turquoise and pure silver which he knew to have belonged to his beloved sister, whom he now knew was truly dead.
"Huitzil!" he screamed, and his cry was taken up by his men, in a ritual show of grief, as they realized the grim truth.
"Yes, yes!" cackled the priest of Kuthlan. "And your lord Conan looked on, and did nothing! Perhaps Kukulkan approves of your sister's sacrifice to Kuthlan?"
"Son of a whore!" screamed Tlaloc, striking the man so hard in the face that several aged and rotten teeth went flying in a stream of split and blood. "But you will know what it is to taste the blade of sacrifice yourself! You and your two fellows up above will all die under my own blade on the altar of the Black Pyramid of Xlantlantaca, in renewal of the sacrifices to Kukulkan, and your dark spirits shall be devoured by Kukulkan himself in the netherworld!"
"Never!" cried the priest, though now his voice trembled with rage mixed with fear. "You dare defile the priesthood of Kuthlan, and mock his power in his own abode? By all the dark gods, if you mock Kuthlan in this way it shall be war between the Quechalnti and Xlantlantca, aye and all the Mayapani, and war between Kuthlan and your foul lord Kukulkan as well!"
"Silence that impudent knave!" bellowed Tlaloc, and his command was instantly carried out with a heavy blow to the head of the priest from a club carried by one of the Jaguar warriors. Then Tlaloc turned to two others, and said, "Take up my sister's body from yon pile at once, be it rotten or no! We shall bind her form up above, in the clean air, with whatever robes and rags we have at hand, and bear her back to Xlantlantca, for a clean and honest cremation amid full funereal rites, and burial of her ashes with all honours in the Gardens of Eternal Rest. And as for this dog and his fellows, aye, they shall be sacrificed at the Black Pyramid of Xlantlantaca as I have commanded!"
"But my lord," replied the Eagle warrior hesitantly, "The sacrifice was abolished by our lord Conan, the Feathered Serpent himself – although…"
"Can you still speak Conan's name without spitting on the ground!" cried Tlaloc, waxing wroth. "Traitor! Thrice-accursed foul blasphemer I name him! No true Feathered Serpent is he! For by some dark witchcraft I know not, he used his Crystal Skull, that foul bauble from the Western Sea, no doubt infused with the power of Kuthlan, to usurp the rightful place of the true Feathered Serpent, whom most lately was that red-haired giant from parts unknown of whom you have all told. No earthly avatar of Kukulkan is he! For would a true Feathered Serpent lead my sister to this place, as cannot be doubted he did – for all know of their departure on a secret mission towards these shores some weeks ago – and then leave her thus, to be sacrificed to a sea devil?"
The men began to murmur darkly amongst themselves, as the truth of Tlaloc's words – or so it seemed to their ears – rung home.
"And where is Conan's body amongst that grim pile, if he himself was also victim?" cried Tlaloc. "Nowhere, because he led my sister, his own wife and mother of his child, my dear niece Huitzilipochtli, to this dark place, under who knows what false pretenses, to die an unspeakable death at the hands of our enemies to gain who knows what advantage or favour for himself!
"Foul, monstrous traitor, vile outlander from beyond the seas, he has been an agent of Kuthlan from the beginning!" cursed Tlaloc, his eyes wild with the glint of madness. "I curse the day he ever set foot in our poor humble village, nigh on a dozen years ago, bringing false promises of power and riches, aye of hope for more besidess. All is now turned to ash in our mouths, and misery and ruin have followed in his wake! I curse my own folly that I ever rebelled against the faith of Kukulkan, harsh and demanding as it may seem, listening to the sweet words that flowed from his honeyed tongue! Now I have suffered the penalty in extreme for my own faithlessness, in the loss of my only beloved sister!"
"Aye, I share your sentiments, and begin to fear your words are true," whispered the Eagle warrior gravely. "But how can Kukulkan have permitted this to happen? Has he lost all power before that accursed Crystal Skull, and his great rival Kuthlan?"
"Blaspheme not!" replied Tlaloc, more calmly now, though tears yet streamed down his copper-skinned face. "Who can know the ways of the gods? I deem this but a test, to sort out Kukulkan's true followers, even those who have stayed from the path for a time, from those who are utterly faithless and accursed. Woe betide those who fail the test, for without any doubt they shall suffer Kukulkan's wrath, indeed as I have done, and more besides, suffer a punishment too grim and terrible for mortal men to imagine!" The men present murmured in assent at these words, eager to prove themselves as true servants to their god.
"And who shall serve as Feathered Serpent, anointed by Kukulkan, if Conan has betrayed us?" asked the Ocelot scout, his lips and voice trembling with indignation at this outrage to proud Xlantlantaca and its supreme deity.
"I shall claim the title for myself!" asserted Tlaloc boldly. "For I reveal to you now, yes even in this grim abode of our archenemies, that Kukulkan himself appear to me, in dream or vision, and revealed all!" The men gasped at these words, for it was death to utter such claims of direct communion with Kukulkan, unless the speaker was true. "Aye, he revealed all, and even then I tested his words, seeking hard proof, the same which has now been provided to my own bitter regret!"
"I shall claim the title at the next festival of Kukulkan on the old calendar of Xlantlantca, the harvest festival, before all the masses of the city, and if my words be true then Kukulkan shall anoint me his earthly avatar before all, as he has ever done from the foundation of the city!" declared Tlaloc, his dark eyes gleaming now in mixed pride and ambition. "And should he anoint me so, then I shall begin the sacrifices anew! With my own hand and obsidian blade shall I make these foul dogs of Kuthlan the first sacrifices on the summit of the black pyramid – and then I shall reinstate the sacrificial priesthood and all of its rites! The whole accursed nation of the Quechalnti shall be taken in sacrifice to our god, in their hundreds of thousands, for such is their just deserts for following foul Kuthlan, and such is our just revenge against that dark god of the sea for his mockery of our faith!"
The men cheered as one, their hearts fired up by Tlaloc's speech – for, truth to tell, the cessation of the sacrifices had never sat well with any of the folk of Xlantlantca, even as it had been welcomed by those of the Mayapani, who had of old been chiefly its victims. Now that a new race, the hated Quechanltni, had been slated for sacrifice, root, stock and branch by their provisional lord, their lust for sacrifice was kindled anew, though it meant most bloody war along the length and breadth of Mayapan to the bitter end.
"Let us then bring word of this news to our fellows!" cried the Eagle warrior in a stern and commanding voice. "They shall soon see reason as have we. We shall return to Xlantlantca with these three sacrifices in tow. Aye and we shall rekindle the blaze of our ardor for Kukulkan, as our lord Tlaloc has promised, and no doubt we shall soon witness his anointing as Feathered Serpent by our god as well!"
"And what of the old Feathered Serpent, of Conan of the Isles?" enquired the Ocelot scout, spitting on the dank floor as he spoke the now hated name.
"First, these dogs of Kuthlan I shall sacrifice immediately on our return to Xlantlantaca," replied Tlaloc. "Then the greater part of our forces shall I unleash forthwith, in relentless war against our hated foes the Quechalnti, to gain sacrifices by the hundreds and by the thousands to atone for our having forsaken Kukulkan!"
"And yet Conan shall I not forget," continued Tlaloc hotly. "Full ten-thousand men shall I employ, tasked solely with seeking him out, wherever shall he be, so that he may be dragged hand and foot to the black pyramid of Xlantlantca, to have his own living heart torn out by mine own hand, and his black soul committed to the hell it deserves!"
"Yet his Crystal Skull…" said the Ocelot scout, with a trace of hesitation, fearful lest he appear lacking in faith before his fellows.
"Speak not to me of the Crystal Skull!" replied Tlaloc, with a dismissive wave of his slender arm. "Do you set so little stock on Kukulkan's power? Much must be risked in war, but I have no doubt that in the moment of truth, that foul bauble shall be revealed as powerless before our god, even should Kukulkan himself have to descend from the skies to put an end to its evil!"
Then men gave a lusty cheer, and then turned about on their long march toward the surface to set the world afire, as Tlaloc, his face no longer soaked with tears, turned his lips with the trace of a smile as he reflected that at least the deep wound of his sorrow might soon be soothed by the balm of power and glory to his name.