"Now is the hour, brave warriors of Kukulkan!" cried General Xipe, sweat flowing from his copper-skinned brow as he raised his bloodied, obsidian-studded war club on high while the din of battle sounded all about. "Send the dogs of Quechaloc to their graves!" With cries of joy and bloodlust, his warriors of Xlantlantaca in their skins and feathers, and the near-naked wild Mayapani alike, rushed the field towards their hated foes.
Once again, after a dozen years of peace, the entrance to the causeway of Xlantlantaca was the site of a ferocious battle of bloody, hand to hand combat – though this time the Mayapani were aligned with the Xlantlantacans against the Quechalnti. Even before dawn had revealed a vast army of the Quechaloc approaching the city over the passes to the west, Xipe's scouts had already learned of their approach, for such a large army could not be disguised or hidden from afar. But rather than try and resist in the passes and drive off the foe, only for them to regroup and fight again another day, he had decided to fight a pitched battle in the plains, relying to the superior numbers of his forces to seek a decisive and final victory over the hated worshippers of the sea-devil Kuthlan.
That the Quechalnti would break the alliance with their old enemies made under the usurper and outlander Conan was no surprise to any of the people of the city, given that Tlaloc less than a month before had despoiled one of their cult sites and dragged several priests of Kuthlan back to the Black Pyramid of Xlantlantca. There he had personally torn out their still-beating hearts with a blunt obsidian knife in the first public sacrifice to Kukulkan in nearly a dozen years, to the savage cries of approval of the citizens and warriors assembled.
Such an insult to the Quechalnti and Kuthlan of course could not go unavenged, and Tlaloc in the wake of his sister's vile murder at the hands of Kuthlan's acolytes – for such it was, as far as he knew – deliberately and with calculation had offered the ultimate insult to the Quechalnti to precipitate the final desperate struggle to the death. Not in alliance or even uneasy truce with the Quechalnti did he intend to rule the lands of Mayapan, but as their conqueror and exterminator, as the champion of Kukulkan and in utter extirpation of the cult of Kuthlan.
Tlaloc now witnessed the battle from the safety of the Black Pyramid, as his general met the foe head on in the field. Even from his distant perch, Tlaloc could clearly see the two armies, for the Quechalnti stood out from afar by virtue of their strange armour of bronze glinting under the bright light of the midday sun – his own warriors were by contrast a dull mass of animal hides or bare coppery flesh. There were no flanking movements or other tactics such as Conan had taught them a dozen years before, for both sides immediately reverted to their traditional manner of warfare by fighting a confusing mass of brutal melees, each warrior fighting for his own honour and to take as many captives as he could for sacrifice to his own dark god.
For a long time the battle seemed evenly matched, for although the Quechalnti had their superior armour and weapons, they were outnumbered by at least three to one by their foes. But as the hours passed, and the blood of the fallen began to stain the waters of the marshes, the Quechalnti dwindled - for they lacked the disciple and tactics required to put their armour and weapons to best effect.
"Are we winning, uncle?" asked a high-pitched voice beside Tlaloc. Turning about, he saw flanked by her two Ocelot bodyguards his neice Huitzilipochtli, barely ten summers old and garbed in a dress of brilliant scarlet and green feathers woven with spiral designs in gold. Her height, hazel eyes and light skin were unusual amongst any of the peoples of Mayapan. Tlaloc stared at her with mixed emotions, for she combined the blood of his dear sister with that of her murderer, his former friend and now hated foe Conan.
Masking his inner thoughts, Tlaloc replied, "It has been a hard-fought battle young one, but our forces are gaining the day."
"That is good," she said with a charming smile and a gleam in her hazel eyes. "And what shall we do with the Quechalnti when we have defeated them?"
"They will be held captive, and on the day of the harvest festival all will be sacrificed on this very spot at the summit of the Black Pyramid!" replied Tlaloc grimly. "It is the will of Kukulkan."
"But neither my father or my mother…" she replied, but was swiftly cut off.
"Don't contradict me, girl!" replied Tlaloc harshly. "You know your mother lies dead, and by your father's hand!"
Tears former in her eyes, but she nodded her head. "I cannot believe it," she replied softly, "but know you would not lie to me, your own niece."
"It is not your fault, my dear," said Tlaloc more softly, running his finger along her smooth cheek. "Your father is a barbarian outlander, and he will feel the wrath of Kukulkan for his treachery in due time. As for you, you must atone for his tainted blood in your veins by officiating at the sacrifices, alongside me. In this way you will prove yourself worthy of the grace of Kukulkan."
"And will I then rule by your side?" she asked, her eyes more clear and voice more steady now – it seemed something of her father's iron will had not forsaken her.
"Only one may rule as Feathered Serpent," replied Tlaloc with a smile.
"And yet you show no sign of Kukulkan's grace, to give you the right to rule," she replied with remarkable calm. "Is not my father the Feathered Serpent until the power of Kukulkan passes onto you? And am I not his heir?"
Tlaloc's eyes narrowed as he stared at her, wondering where she had gained such preternatural wisdom. Her Ocelot bodyguards stood stony-faced and unmoved at the exchange.
"Your father has betrayed us all," replied Tlaloc cooly. "All who were present at the cult place of Kuthlan have seen the truth for our own eyes, our warriors present there have sworn to it by blood oaths, and our captives from there admitted it before they were sacrificed!"
"And yet still that does not give you the right to rule," replied Huitzilpochtli, with a curious smile. "Not until you show proof of Kukulkan's grace and anointing. Until then, as my father's only child, and regardless that I am a girl and not a boy, I am the heir to the Dragon Throne and act as ruler of the realm until Kukulkan's will be known. That is the law of Xlantlantaca, as I am told, and has always been the case in the past when the Feathered Serpent died on the throne, and Kukulkan had not yet invested his power in another as his avatar on earth."
"I am appointed regent by your father," answered Tlaloc angrily, his patience exhausted, "and as such you must still obey me until you reach your fifteenth year! That is also the law of this city, since you are fond of quoting laws without understanding of them."
"How can you rely on my father's will when you declare him usurper and seek his death?" asked Huitzilipochtli.
"And how can you claim the throne of a usurper and traitor as his heir?" shot back Tlaloch.
"The people of Xlantlantaca might ask how either of you might claim the throne, even as acting ruler, without clear sign from Kukulkan," replied one of the Ocelot guards, the taller of the two, fingering the hilt of his obsidian-bladed dagger suggestively. "Two outlanders in a row have ruled this land now, and the second led us to the end of the sacrifices in great insult to Kulkulkan. Are we to suffer under a third ruler who is not of our own folk? For neither of you are Xlantlantacans by blood!"
"Bold words for a guard!" replied Tlaloch, fingering his own dagger in suggestive reply. "Was it not I who restored the sacrifices to Kukulkan?"
"And yet he speaks the truth," replied Huitzlipochtli, "although presently no man of Xlantlantaca has any claim at law to the Dragon Throne as acting ruler or regent, yet alone any claim to the title of Feathered Serpent unless he be chosen by Kukulkan with visible sign for all. Even so, it seems unsafe for you or me, uncle, to contest each other's rule. We would be stronger together, sharing the blonds of blood with the burden of the throne until the will of Kukulkan be known."
"And did General Xipe put you up to this?" asked Tlaloc of the Ocelot guard, ignoring his niece's remarks for the time being. "A mere warrior like you would not dare to challenge me openly of your own accord, nor call into question the legitimacy of your princess! While out in the field, gaining the acclaim of our men for prowess in battle, Xipe must think he can manipulate me as lawfully-appointed regent as if I were a puppet while he acts as the power behind the scenes, with my niece, the crown princess, a mere figurehead! Though I can see the words he has put in her mouth meet favour in her own dark heart, which carries the blood of her thrice-accursed father."
"You are wise – for a Mayapani," replied the guard with a smile. "You would do well to consider carefully your position, until the will of Kukulkan be known."
"This is all premature, as long as Conan yet lives!" replied Tlaloc boldly. "His heir has no powers while is he still alive, nor would she after his death unless and until she is of age. I as appointed regent therefore rule the realm in Conan's place - lest you all forget! My appointment is not void because he later turned traitor to our cause. Even so, I will take the field now and when the battle is won, I will remind Xipe that we must avenge ourselves forthwith upon Conan, and bring his misrule as Feathered Serpent to an end!"
And with no further words to guards or niece, Tlaloc turned about and began the long descent of five-hundred steps to the base of the Black Pyramid, to the broad square where his own retinue of bodyguards waited him, a mixed party of Eagle and Coyote warriors and some of the most skilled archers from his own Mayapani folk. Calling for his spear and shield, he then commanded them to follow him through the streets of the city – empty under curfew by his order, with an enemy at the gates – and towards the causeway which led to the battlefield beyond.
It took perhaps the best part of an hour for Tlaloch and his guards to exit the broad city and cross the causeway over the lake and marches, the din of battle growing louder and the stench of blood and death stronger all the time. When at length they arrived at the western edge of the causeway on the mainland, which was held by a party of Jaguar warriors, the sun was already beginning its descent into the west and hanging low over the western mountains, although the scanty clouds were not yet tinged with colour by its light.
"Where is General Xipe?" asked Tlaloch to the Jaguar warriors. "I would have words with him at once."
"He may yet be busy with smashing the skulls of our foes," replied the Jaguar warrior with a shrug. "But I last saw his standard from afar perhaps a quarter-league due south from here."
"Be at the ready, men!" ordered Tlaloch to his own bodyguards, and they strode past the end of the causeway and turned due south, skirting the marches to their left as they strode towards the heart of the battlefield.
After passing a number of skirmishing parties of Quechalnti and Mayapani at a distance, passing the ruined bodies of the slain from both sides, they closed ranks with their own forces, engaged in a desperate struggle with their foes, who by now had been pushed into a last defensive ring of perhaps five-thousand or so warriors surrounded by at least four times as many foes.
Xipe's standard, a wooden pole affixed with a brightly coloured mass of feathers and beads, could be seen just behind the front ranks of his army perhaps a thousand paces off. Tlaloc and his men now headed straight towards it, pushing their own warriors in the ranks out of the way as they made their way to near the front line of combat.
Several Quechanlti warriors, streaked with blood and sweat, broke through the ranks in a dash for escape, fear showing in their dark eyes and on their bronzed faces. But Tlaloc's warriors quickly dispatched them with arrows and spears, leaving Tlaloc to finish the last of them with a spear through the throat as the desperate man gurgled in his death agony. Thus blooded, Tlaloch and his men then pushed through the last of the ranks and found their way to Xipe, who urged his warriors on to a final effort while waving his blood-stained club. The cuts and bruises he bore and his battered shield showed that he had long been in the thick of the fray.
Turning to Tlaloc, his surprise showing in his dark eyes only for a moment, Xipe promptly saluted him as rank demanded, though he could not disguise the sardonic smile on his hawk-like face.
"Hail Tlaloc!" he cried. And then dispensing with the formal show of deference to the regent, he continued, "I see that at long last you have left the safety of the city to help us on the battlefield! What a shame that you have come too late to turn the tide of battle, and with its course already decided in our favour."
"You can see we have been blooded even now," replied Tlaloc calmly, gesturing to his crimson spearpoint. "Besides, I was kept busy by my little niece, discussing your plans to subvert my rule of the city in your favour. Your capacity for treachery appears to rival that of Conan himself."
Xipe's face turned to a frown as those warriors about him turned and faced Tlaloc, their attention no longer on their Quechalnti foes but three-score paces distant and locked in a desperate struggle against the foremost lines of the Xlantlantacans. They all clutched their clubs and spears as if ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
"Insolent whelp!" barked Xipe, no longer bothering with even a show of mock politeness. "I have spent all day fighting your battles for you in your absence, for you were the one who stirred up the Quechanlti to open war against us in the first place! This is neither the time nor the place…"
"What better time or place?" cried Tlaloc, shouting loudly now to make sure all about heard him over the roar and din of battle. "You wish to neuter me as regent by making me co-ruler with my niece, who is but a little girl, which means I would have no say over her and would need her consent in all actions - no doubt with you posing as her friend and counsellor, in fact the power behind the throne. Do you deny it?"
"You go too far, Mayapani!" replied Xipe hotly. "Kukulkan alone decides who shall sit upon the Dragon Throne."
"Not until Kukulkan anoints the next Feathered Serpent by public sign shall anyone displace me as regent, as well you know," replied Tlaloch. "And I rule as duly-appointed regent because my niece is not of age, and could not rule this city even if Conan were proven dead. Which is why I have come to you now. Because as well all know, Conan surely yet lives, and as long as he does we will never have another Feathered Serpent. There can be only one! Though no doubt you imagine that you shall be the anointed one, when he is dead, and you seek to strip me of power and authority in the interim."
"And we all know you mean to claim the title of Feathered Serpent for yourself, imagining Kukulkan will grace you with it!" shot back Xipe. "You have made no secret of it."
"And I make no secret of it now," admitted Tlaloch. "For I know with all certainty that Kukulkan will anoint me as Feathered Serpent as soon as Conan lies dead, and you are but a pretender to the throne. But the will of Kukulkan will be revealed in his own good time. For now, I will not allow you to rest on your laurels in victory this day, while within the walls of our city you plot and scheme behind the scenes to strip me of power, and veto my acts through my sister as your pawn and figurehead, hoping somehow to maneuver yourself into the supreme role!"
"And how to you propose to stop me?" replied Xipe boldly, not making any further pretence of denying his ambitions, which it seemed were no secret to the hardened warriors who surrounded him.
"By taking command of the army, as is my right as prince and regent, and sending it on the march!" replied Tlaloch. "Today will bring our victory. Not at the harvest festival as I had planned, but tonight will bring our sacrifice of the captives, to seek the grace of Kukulkan. And on the morrow, we march, for vengeance against Conan and to strip him of his crown and his life!"
"No one knows where Conan is, you fool!" shot back Xipe. "Do you propose we send our scattered forces in all directions to seek him out?"
"You are wrong!" replied Tlaloc. "Before I sacrificed the priests of Kuthlan, they confessed to me under torment exactly where he is, or at least where he is headed. I could not abandon this city to its foes, but now that their defeat is upon them our army is no longer needed here. On the morrow full ten-thousand men will march north, and we will not stop until we find Conan and reclaim from him the Crystal Skull! Only then shall Kukulkan confer the title of Feathered Serpent upon the next anointed ruler of our land - and that shall be me. So has Kukulkan himself revealed to me in a vision."
"A vision born of your love for the liquor pot, no doubt!" scoffed Xipe. "But despite your delusions, if you have news of Conan's whereabouts I will hear of it. The signs are clear to all that he has betrayed this realm, and abandoned his own throne, and enough men have sworn the blood oath as to what they saw at the cult place of Kuthlan alongside you that I am satisfied of it. But have a care, prince – regent or no, no man leads this army but me."
"Then you propose to do nothing," asked Tlaloc incredulously, "and let Conan flee, surely still alive and claiming the title of Feathered Serpent? For surely Kukulkan shall not appoint another, as long as Conan yet lives!"
"He speaks the truth, General", said one of the Jaguar warriors near Xipe, lowering his spear. "Once the Quechanlti are defeated, Conan must die! Only then can the rule and order of Kukulkan return to this land as it was of old, and this time of chaos come to an end."
Xipe glared sharply at the man, but remained silent for some moments, seemingly aware that he could not gainsay Tlaloch's words, and unwilling to appear to put his own ambitions before the good of the realm and the honour of Kukulkan in sight of his own closest followers.
"And how to you propose to claim the Crystal Skull from Conan, or for that matter to defeat its power as we must if we are to end Conan's life?" asked Xipe. "We have all seen its power. It will allow no man to claim it against its will. If you send ten-thousand of my warriors against the power of the Crystal Skull in open combat, you send them to their doom!"
"Have you so little faith in the power of Kukulkan?" replied Tlaloch shrewdly. "I say unto you, if we have courage and faith in his power, then by his grace Conan will be defeated, and the Crystal Skull shall be pried Conan's grasp! Or do you think that the power of Kuthlan is greater than that of Kukulkan?"
Xipe frowned, aware that he had been backed into a corner by the clever young prince in front of his own most loyal warriors. How could he appear to admit in front of them that he dared not face down the power of Kuthlan, and the Crystal Skull that was it seemed the sea-devil's talisman?
"Very well, boy," replied Xipe insolently. "We will do things your way. But it is I who will command our troops in the field, not you! You and your men may accompany us to lead the way, but that is all. And may Kukulkan himself help you if you lead us astray, or to a bad end! You had better hope the information you extracted from the priests of Kuthlan is true!"
"I have faith," Tlaloc replied with a cool smile, "and so it seems must you."
Of the rest of the battle there was little to tell, save that its course ended as foreseen with the last warriors of the Quechanlti ground into ruin, and the few survivors taken into captivity. All night the sacrifices of the captives lasted, their hearts crudely and horribly torn out in the field, for Tlaloc decreed he would not take the time to lead them back into the city for a formal sacrifice on the summit of the Black Pyramid, nor delay their sacrifice until the harvest festival has he had at one time planned.
In spite of Tlaloc's demands for immediate action, Xipe ordered the army to rest for three days in the field, while wounds were tended to, the dead were buried, and food and provision made for a lengthy march into the little-known lands far to the north. A large body of men, full five-thousand, he dispatched to raid the western shore, to bring fire and death to the women, children, and elders of the Quechalnti and burn their cities to the ground, so that no more of that strange folk of the southern continent of Quechaloc would live along the western shores of Mayapan and maintain the worship of the dreaming god Kuthlan in the chosen realm of Kukulkan. A much smaller number, mostly of the walking wounded, he dispatched back to Xlantlantaca to guard the city walls and maintain order in his absence.
And the rest, ten-thousand battle-hardened warriors, he dispatched with Tlaloc and his guard at the spearpoint on a quest to find and slay the usurper Conan and seize from him the Crystal Skull, so that the dishonour he had done to Kulkulkan would be avenged, and the rule of a faithful and true Feathered Serpent be restored to the lands of Mayapan.