The group stood on the raised platform in the plaza, with Darien and a strong contingent of guards. Many natives had gathered in the great square around them to witness the sorcery of the white men. Darien stood with Cordell, ready to translate when the time was right.
The first prisoner did not know what was happening. Two legionnaires threw him roughly to the ground and knelt on him, pressing his head sideways against the stones. Valez moved quickly, pressing the red-hot iron to the man's cheek.
The knight's flesh sizzled sickeningly, and a cloud of smoke hissed into the air. He screamed, but the legionnaires held firm. In a second, Valez pulled the iron away, and the knight rolled across the hard clay surface of the plaza. He sobbed uncontrollably, and though the legionnaires did not know it, his tears were tears of shame, not pain.
In short order, the other three knights were similarly overpowered and branded, though each struggled frantically against the debasement. But in the end, each of the four wore the glaring eye, branded forever onto their faces.
"The hand of Helm is everywhere," pronounced Bishou Domincus solemnly. Domincus glared at the branded men as if their very presence was an affront to his god.
"Indeed." Cordell nodded. He was worried about the cleric. Since the death of his daughter, the Bishou had become obsessed with the notion of Helm's vengeance against transgressors. And his mind, clouded by hatred, saw all Mazticans as transgressors.
However, such vehemence had in fact proved useful in the subjugation of Ulatos. So vigorously had the Bishou preached his tale of Helm's might, so vivid was the proof of his superiority in the form of the recent battle, that the Payit seemed to have no difficulty accepting Helm as a superior god. Domincus told them that Helm had personally vanquished the pagan gods. Now the Mazticans turned out daily to hear the Bishou harangue them in a language they could not understand. They recognized the glaring eye in Helm's banner, however, and began to treat it with the respect due a mighty god by prostrating themselves when the flag was raised or lowered.
"Let this be a final reminder of our mastery and the punishments meted to our enemies!" proclaimed Cordell for Darien to translate. The elf woman, robed and masked as always when she ventured into the light of the sun, looked with satisfaction at the prisoners.
She was impressed once again with the general's wisdom. The legion could not afford to keep a large garrison in Ulatos. Yet the city must know, and always remember, that it had been conquered. Even when no legionnaires were in sight, the citizens of the city would look at these four warriors and they would remember.
"Now, to the palace," spoke the captain-general, turning and marching quickly back to his residence. Darien and the Bishou accompanied him through the courtyard, where he found Daggrande and Kardann awaiting him.
"The headman, Caxal, is here, General," explained the dwarf.
"Did he bring anyone with him?"
"Yes, sir. He's brought several of his fellows to tell you about that city, Nexal." The dwarf gestured toward the inner courtyard of the building that had once been Caxal's house.
Cordell quickly strode through the vine-fringed archway. He found Caxal seated on a stone bench, with six men resting on the ground beside him. The captain-general paused long enough to allow Darien to catch up and take position beside him. Meanwhile, the Payits all flung themselves on the earth and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
The rest of Cordell's captains, Garrant and the commanders of the longbows and spearmen, joined them here. Kardann, too, hurried to catch up, wheezing for breath but quickly readying his quill and scroll as Cordell spoke.
"I want you to tell me anything you know about the land of Nexal, both the people and the city itself. I will not harm you. I will reward those who share their knowledge with me. Now, speak."
Cordell paced back and forth beside a flower-studded lily pond, dictating his words for Darien to translate. The men remained kneeling on the grass before the captain-general.
"You." He addressed a tall man who wore a humble white mantle. "Have you been there?"
"Indeed, Most Commanding Lord. The city of Nexal is the greatest city in all the True World. Beside it, Ulatos is nothing more than a squalid collection of hovels."
"And gold?" prodded Cordell. "Do the Nexalans have gold?"
"Oh, yes, Most Magnificent Conqueror! The most humble of lords wears plates upon his chest, ear and lip plugs of solid gold. They collect gold in tribute from all the tribes they have conquered.
"The marketplace of Nexal is like no other place in the world, Supreme One! The markets alone cover a plaza the size of this entire city. There will Your Magnificence find more gold, feathers and turquoise, pearls and jade, all manners of treasures, sorcerous things, objects of feathermagic and talonmagic.
"There, too, are the great treasuries! Naltecona's alone, concealed somewhere in his palace, holds more valuables than our entire humble city. And each of his counselors has built a palace, and each has such a storeroom, never opened in the long history of Nexal!"
"How do you know of all this, man?" The captain-general grew suspicious at the extent of the man's enthusiasm, but the native hastily and abjectly explained.
"I have traded with the Nexalan merchants, the potec, who travel all Maztica. They sometimes come to Payit, especially for cocoa and plumage that cannot be found in less verdant lands. They talk freely of their city, and they tell how they must pay taxes to Naltecona for his treasure room, just as their fathers were taxed by Naltecona's father.
"Once I journeyed to Nexal with a band of potec, and lived a year in that grand city. I spent long days in the marketplace, bartering and learning their ways."
"What of their army?"
"The warriors of Nexala are more numerous than the grains of sand on the shore," answered the trader. "They have prevailed over all their foes, conquering all of their neighboring nations save one. That one, Kultaka, has fighters who are as fierce, if not as numerous, as the Nexalans."
"This city, Nexal… is it walled?"
"It is protected by lakes on all sides, O Hallowed Warrior. You must cross long causeways to reach the city, and each of these has many wooden sections that can be removed. It is a city of canals and plazas and avenues. There are no walls surrounding it."
Gradually the others confirmed or embellished upon the trader's story. Most of the details referred to colorful murals, grand temples, and bloody gods. None could accurately estimate the size of the Nexalan army, but by all accounts, it made the Payit force look like an understrength regiment by comparison.
Cordell also gained an approximate understanding of the city's location, thanks to a map of many colors, with surprisingly detailed terrain features, drawn by the trader. After the natives had been rewarded with glass beads and ushered out, the captain-general turned to his followers.
"Daggrande, how does the loading progress?"
"The gold was finally loaded this morning, General. A share to each ship."
"Splendid. We will remain here for one more day to allow the men some more opportunity to enjoy our fruits of victory!"
"May I ask," Kardann began hesitantly, "has the captain-general considered the suggestion that we return to Amn for reinforcements? With the treasure we have already gained, the council would be sure to fund a much larger fleet!" Several captains nodded and muttered assent to the suggestion.
"The legion moves west!" barked Cordell. "We have barely scratched the surface of the opportunities here. Don't you know that once we return home, every small-time wizard and copper-plate pirate on the Sword Coast will head for Maztica?"