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past her. "We call it
Nahuatl. The old tongue we know from the far-off old days."
She nodded, then said to the others, "I'm sure that's a word from the Aztecs."
One of the men dressed in a black robe leaned toward the leader of the tribe
and said something. Itzcoatl nodded. "Quauhtlatoa, who is called Speaking
Eagle, reminds me that we are poor What is the word?
Someone who receives strangers."
"Hosts?" Krysty suggested.
The man nodded. "Yes. You bring us the waited one and save the lives of our
brothers and sister. And we remain beyond the walls, breathing out empty air
and words. You will all stay and eat with us now?"
"Thanks," Ryan said. "Just a couple days, perhaps, then we'll have to be on
our way."
There was something in his remarks that upset the Macehualli people. The
plumed masks gathered close, and all the body language showed tension and
anxiety. Ryan could hear the fluting exchanges between the leaders of the
tribe, but it was Itzcoatl who quelled it, snapping out an order and holding
up his left hand.
His right hand dropped to the jewel-studded hilt of the polished black-stone
sword on his hip, producing silence.
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The voice from beneath the mask sounded strained. "We fear you leaving soon.
We cannot repay the debt if you leave quickly. So stay as long as you want."
"Thanks again. Be glad to stay awhile."
This was obviously a reassuring remark as the tautness eased from the
listeners.
"Good, good." Itzcoatl muttered something over his shoulder. Two men moved
forward and took the arms of the prisoner, with surprising gentleness, and led
him away.
"You'll chill him?" Ryan asked, not caring much one way or the other. As
Krysty had said, being a member of the slavers' gang carried its own risks.
"He will be used," the chief replied. An odd choice of words, Ryan thought.
Throughout all the exchange, it had been glaringly obvious that the real
subject of interest was Jak
Lauren. Since they had all scrambled upright, every eye in the crowd was glued
to him, following his every movement. When he brushed a hand through his
magnesium hair, a fascinated ripple ran through the natives.
"You will be shown to your huts. Will two be enough for your needs?"
Ryan nodded. "Sure. Be fine."
"The meal being cooked now is not good enough for" the white eyes in the mask
moved toward Jak, "not good enough for any of you. Go to your huts and rest,
and women will bring water for washing. Then, later, we can feast."
He turned and walked back in a stately manner, followed by what seemed to be
his inner council, through the tall gates, the crowd of natives parting like
the Red Sea. They all moved back even farther as Ryan led his friends into the
village.
The drums resumed their slow, ponderous beating, and the trumpet blared once
more.
As Jak strolled through the gates, the entire gathering fell again to its
knees in salute.
"Never been god before," the albino whispered. "Could get used to it."
The air was filled with the smell of oiled bodies and smoke and cooking meat.
Ryan felt very hungry.
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Page 36
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Deathlands 28 - Emerald Fire
Chapter Eleven
Ryan called everyone together in the hut that he had picked for himself,
Krysty and Dean. It stood next door to the building offered to the others.
The structure was made from thick logs and sealed with clay. The roof was
layered palm leaves, the floor packed earth. There was no door, just a curtain
of wooden beads. The fifteen-foot-square room was divided into what appeared
to be cooking and living-sleeping quarters. A small fire burned in the center
of the cooking area, most of the smoke finding its way to the roof, out
through a hole in the thatch.
Silent women had brought in pots of cold, clean water and bowls for washing,
keeping their dark eyes averted from the group of outlanders.
"Take care about drinking too much of it," Mildred warned. "Not sure about
their hygiene here, or the way they dispose of their waste products."
"They seem healthy," J.B. commented.
"Sure they do, John. They've had fifty generations to get used to whatever
toxins might be present in it."
"All right, listen up," Ryan said. "This is a new situation on me."
"On all." Jak pulled a face.
"Sure. Way I see it, we're safer than safe here at the moment. Our stock's
higher than a snake in an eagle's beak with these natives. Partly for the help
we gave and even more for the fact that they seem to think that
Jak here is just a short step away from Christ himself."
"Man who would be king," Doc muttered. "Oh, I believe that I might already
have picked out that literary reference. Have I? Did I? Or was it the one-eyed
man becoming king in the country of the blind? I
disremember which. Could be the one or it could be the other. Oh, my burning
brain of fire."
Ryan waited until the ramblings had faded away, then he carried on. "Only
thing is, these aren't like any people we've ever met in Deathlands. No way of
knowing how they'll react to any given set of events.
Don't let the blasters out of your sight. Don't go anywhere on your own. That
applies to you, Jak, even more than the rest of us. All right?"
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Deathlands 28 - Emerald Fire
"Why me?"
"Because nobody here knows how gods get treated."
"Very well," Dean said, grinning. "Mebbe I can sort of be the god's best
friend."
Mildred patted the boy on the back. "I'll let you be in my dream, Dean, just
as long as I can be in your dream."
THE MEAL WAS HELD out-of-doors, in front of the main building of the village,
which was a longhouse where the official business of the place was enacted.
Itzcoatl, deprived of his mask, had told them that. He was revealed to be one
of the tallest men in the village, with gold rings through his ears so heavy
that they had pulled down the lobes, almost to his broad shoulders. Across his
chest, he had a tattoo of twin serpents, entwined, openmouthed. Each held a
human skull in its gaping jaws.
He still wore a green robe decorated with the same beautiful feathers as the
masks.
When Ryan and the others came out of their huts, summoned to the meal, the
chief was standing at one end of the table, beckoning for Jak to take the seat
at the very head.
"The place of most honor," he said, seating the others on either side, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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