[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
John had not returned yet, so Oaxyctl washed his hands, threw away the
slightly bloodied shirt, and put on his spare shirt. Then he wrapped the ends
of a length of rope around his hands slowly, as if he had weights attached to
his fingers, and planted himself just by the door.
He took several deep breaths.
Several minutes of waiting later, a hard knock on the door rattled it in its
hinges. DeBrun wouldn't knock, Oaxyctl thought. He unwrapped the rope from his
hands and slid it between the limp bed mattress and the boards underneath.
Three men stood at the door when he cracked it open.
The silver-dreadlocked man in front, a handkerchief held over his mouth,
coughed. He folded the piece of cloth back up and put it in his breast pocket.
"Where is John?" he asked. "John deBrun?"
"He isn't here," Oaxyctl said. "I can take a message for you."
"No, that's okay." The man's eyes narrowed. "Maybe we can just wait for him?"
"There isn't much space in here," Oaxyctl mumbled. His throat constricted, he
could barely breathe.
"That's okay. I could come in alone."
One of the two men behind him put out an arm. "Haidan . . ."
Haidan.
The mongoose-general. Oaxyctl looked at the two mongoose-men. He didn't stand
a chance.
His world crumbled. The atlatl was too far away, the odds against him. The
mongoose-men sized him up as well. Their rifles lay cradled in the crooks of
their elbows.
"Yes, why don't we all squeeze in," Oaxyctl said.
Everyone hesitated a moment. Then Haidan walked in and the two mongoose-men
followed. Oaxyctl closed the door behind them.
Haidan smiled. "So here we all are. And who are you?"
Oaxyctl didn't reply. He raised the corner of his shirtsleeve and showed the
tattoo. The two guards nodded, but Haidan's eyes remained neutral. Feeling
another slight seed of guilt for again abusing this brothership of the
mongoose-men, Oaxyctl walked into the washroom, calm. He turned on the light
and closed the door behind him.
Inside the cupboard lay his tools, the ones he'd just now unpacked from the
canvas bag. Serums, scalpels, knives, Oaxyctl packed them all tightly into a
small leather bag. Then he sat on the privy and took more deep breaths.
He might have to kill all these men to get John. He might die trying. They
might just leave. Or not. But
his god had given him a quest, and that was to get the codes to the
Ma Wi Jung
. This he had to do, any way possible.
Oaxyctl was nervous. If he did die, he would have failed the god . . .
To go to your death is a release, he whispered to himself. To meet your gods
is an honor. To give your body to the earth is your destiny.
At least, that is what they say. Oaxyctl was more worried about the things the
gods could do to him while still alive, and would do, if he failed.
The door outside creaked open, muffled from Oaxyctl's position inside the
bathroom.
"John," the mongoose-general said.
"Haidan?" Oaxyctl heard John reply.
Oaxyctl took one final deep breath and opened the door.
All eyes fastened on him for a second. John put down a paper bag of groceries.
A wad of celery stalks tied with blue string stuck out of the top and leaned
over.
Page 98
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"What's going on?"
Haidan walked over. "We need you, John."
John sat on the bed. The boards underneath it creaked and settled. The two
mongoose-men moved back to stand by the sides of the door. "I'm not flying to
the northlands. I'm staying to fight."
Oaxyctl sat down at the small table.
"It most likely you go die," Haidan said. "Eventually. You ain't that good a
fighter, you only got one hand."
"Then I will die," John said.
"Come, man," Haidan hissed. "You ain't one to give up. You a fighter. I know
this. I seen you push through the jungle before."
John shook his head. "That was a different time."
"You scared?"
"Scared?" John raised his hook and looked at the light playing off it. "No.
Tired, lost. My family is dead. And I left them there." He hit his chest with
the side of the curved steel. "Haidan . . . there's nothing left for me."
Haidan sat on the bed next to John. The boards protested as the cheap bed
pushed down. Oaxyctl held his hands steady over the table, but every muscle in
his body tensed.
"John." Haidan pulled out the stained handkerchief from his breast pocket and
held it out. "If anyone go die here, it go be me. You and I know I been sick
ever since you pull me out that swamp in Hope's
Loss and this here damn cough had start." Haidan dropped the rust-colored
cloth to the ground. "I need someone who ain't go give up now. I need someone
strong. I need you to go all the way north for me. I
know you can lead men. I had talk to sailors who you lead back to the city.
You the man for this. I know it."
Haidan stood up, and Oaxyctl let out a held breath.
"John," Haidan said. "You want revenge? You want to make Azteca pay?"
Oaxyctl scratched at his left index fingertip.
"Them bastard kill you family, they kill Shanta," Haidan continued. "They kill
we friend in Brungstun.
You want blood, I go give you blood, man:
Ma Wi Jung."
Oaxyctl jumped in place, startled. Those words. Did these people know about
his god's quest?
"Leave him." Oaxyctl's voice broke. "He's been through enough."
"Why you test me?" Haidan asked, turning around. "You mongoose, true, but I
don't know you, and you tattoo new. Don't cross me."
John stood up between them. Oaxyctl kept his hands still on the table's rough
wooden surface. If he shoved hard enough, he could feel a splinter poke into
his palm. The pain helped center him.
"Give him slack," John said.
Haidan coughed. Blood flecked his lips. He wiped at it with the back of his
forearm.
"Fine. Listen, John, I could get you the greatest revenge. You want bust the
Azteca back? Then you go north. You go north and you find something, something
from we old-father time, and you use it to smite the Azteca. That is true
revenge. I can give you this."
John's back slumped forward. "Tell me more." It was an act of surrender, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
John had not returned yet, so Oaxyctl washed his hands, threw away the
slightly bloodied shirt, and put on his spare shirt. Then he wrapped the ends
of a length of rope around his hands slowly, as if he had weights attached to
his fingers, and planted himself just by the door.
He took several deep breaths.
Several minutes of waiting later, a hard knock on the door rattled it in its
hinges. DeBrun wouldn't knock, Oaxyctl thought. He unwrapped the rope from his
hands and slid it between the limp bed mattress and the boards underneath.
Three men stood at the door when he cracked it open.
The silver-dreadlocked man in front, a handkerchief held over his mouth,
coughed. He folded the piece of cloth back up and put it in his breast pocket.
"Where is John?" he asked. "John deBrun?"
"He isn't here," Oaxyctl said. "I can take a message for you."
"No, that's okay." The man's eyes narrowed. "Maybe we can just wait for him?"
"There isn't much space in here," Oaxyctl mumbled. His throat constricted, he
could barely breathe.
"That's okay. I could come in alone."
One of the two men behind him put out an arm. "Haidan . . ."
Haidan.
The mongoose-general. Oaxyctl looked at the two mongoose-men. He didn't stand
a chance.
His world crumbled. The atlatl was too far away, the odds against him. The
mongoose-men sized him up as well. Their rifles lay cradled in the crooks of
their elbows.
"Yes, why don't we all squeeze in," Oaxyctl said.
Everyone hesitated a moment. Then Haidan walked in and the two mongoose-men
followed. Oaxyctl closed the door behind them.
Haidan smiled. "So here we all are. And who are you?"
Oaxyctl didn't reply. He raised the corner of his shirtsleeve and showed the
tattoo. The two guards nodded, but Haidan's eyes remained neutral. Feeling
another slight seed of guilt for again abusing this brothership of the
mongoose-men, Oaxyctl walked into the washroom, calm. He turned on the light
and closed the door behind him.
Inside the cupboard lay his tools, the ones he'd just now unpacked from the
canvas bag. Serums, scalpels, knives, Oaxyctl packed them all tightly into a
small leather bag. Then he sat on the privy and took more deep breaths.
He might have to kill all these men to get John. He might die trying. They
might just leave. Or not. But
his god had given him a quest, and that was to get the codes to the
Ma Wi Jung
. This he had to do, any way possible.
Oaxyctl was nervous. If he did die, he would have failed the god . . .
To go to your death is a release, he whispered to himself. To meet your gods
is an honor. To give your body to the earth is your destiny.
At least, that is what they say. Oaxyctl was more worried about the things the
gods could do to him while still alive, and would do, if he failed.
The door outside creaked open, muffled from Oaxyctl's position inside the
bathroom.
"John," the mongoose-general said.
"Haidan?" Oaxyctl heard John reply.
Oaxyctl took one final deep breath and opened the door.
All eyes fastened on him for a second. John put down a paper bag of groceries.
A wad of celery stalks tied with blue string stuck out of the top and leaned
over.
Page 98
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"What's going on?"
Haidan walked over. "We need you, John."
John sat on the bed. The boards underneath it creaked and settled. The two
mongoose-men moved back to stand by the sides of the door. "I'm not flying to
the northlands. I'm staying to fight."
Oaxyctl sat down at the small table.
"It most likely you go die," Haidan said. "Eventually. You ain't that good a
fighter, you only got one hand."
"Then I will die," John said.
"Come, man," Haidan hissed. "You ain't one to give up. You a fighter. I know
this. I seen you push through the jungle before."
John shook his head. "That was a different time."
"You scared?"
"Scared?" John raised his hook and looked at the light playing off it. "No.
Tired, lost. My family is dead. And I left them there." He hit his chest with
the side of the curved steel. "Haidan . . . there's nothing left for me."
Haidan sat on the bed next to John. The boards protested as the cheap bed
pushed down. Oaxyctl held his hands steady over the table, but every muscle in
his body tensed.
"John." Haidan pulled out the stained handkerchief from his breast pocket and
held it out. "If anyone go die here, it go be me. You and I know I been sick
ever since you pull me out that swamp in Hope's
Loss and this here damn cough had start." Haidan dropped the rust-colored
cloth to the ground. "I need someone who ain't go give up now. I need someone
strong. I need you to go all the way north for me. I
know you can lead men. I had talk to sailors who you lead back to the city.
You the man for this. I know it."
Haidan stood up, and Oaxyctl let out a held breath.
"John," Haidan said. "You want revenge? You want to make Azteca pay?"
Oaxyctl scratched at his left index fingertip.
"Them bastard kill you family, they kill Shanta," Haidan continued. "They kill
we friend in Brungstun.
You want blood, I go give you blood, man:
Ma Wi Jung."
Oaxyctl jumped in place, startled. Those words. Did these people know about
his god's quest?
"Leave him." Oaxyctl's voice broke. "He's been through enough."
"Why you test me?" Haidan asked, turning around. "You mongoose, true, but I
don't know you, and you tattoo new. Don't cross me."
John stood up between them. Oaxyctl kept his hands still on the table's rough
wooden surface. If he shoved hard enough, he could feel a splinter poke into
his palm. The pain helped center him.
"Give him slack," John said.
Haidan coughed. Blood flecked his lips. He wiped at it with the back of his
forearm.
"Fine. Listen, John, I could get you the greatest revenge. You want bust the
Azteca back? Then you go north. You go north and you find something, something
from we old-father time, and you use it to smite the Azteca. That is true
revenge. I can give you this."
John's back slumped forward. "Tell me more." It was an act of surrender, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]