Clandestine Alliance

PART I: The Serpent’s Lair
_____

“Regardless of who you are,” the sentinel cautioned, “these grounds are sealed.”
    The dark warrior smiled crookedly at the unarmed patrolman, whose neck alone seemed about as thick as the trunk of a redwood. “I announced my arrival last night, friend. Your leader is expecting me.”
    His only response from the guard was a narrow and not very pleasant glare. It had been hours since the visitor had been sitting in the vast silence of the haunting Tolteca ruins where his conveyance portal had brought him. His contact had arrived moments later in a rugged but sturdy military vehicle that transported them down into the surrounding valley trench, and deep into the foreboding jungle within. How far they had pressed into that maze of foliage was beyond him, and the transport had made so many winding turns and sudden changes in direction that he quickly lost all track of where they could possibly be headed.
    To be left alone in front of the Mixtépoch Temple and granted free permission to pass through, only to come up against a thickheaded sentinel in the main hall, did nothing to ease the inconvenience.
    “I must ask you to leave peacefully, sir,” warned the guard. “We are not expecting anyone here today.”
    Venom stared back at him. “Then obviously you must no longer be on speaking terms with your superiors. I’m here on official business concerning the head of your order.”
    “You are trespassing,” the sentinel corrected. “This temple is off-limits to all but the humble servants of the revered snake god Tsepítt. If you are here to pay homage to the god, though I find that very doubtful, come back in the morning. If you are here on some other more trivial intent, I suggest that you leave and forget this place immediately.” His eyes had grown wide as he spat his words. “Those who desecrate this most venerable of our lord Tsepítt’s hallowed sanctuaries will become nourishment for him to feast upon. Go now, before you find yourself thrown upon the god’s sacrificial altar.”
    “That’s enough, Miztli,” a woman’s voice interrupted. “I think you’ve made your point.”
    From the garden clearly visible behind the guard, there appeared a woman in a flowing mantle of what appeared to be glittering turquoise liquid. The sentinel’s expression as he turned to face her quickly softened to a look of abject calm. He bowed respectively.
    “What seems to be causing your displeasure, Sir Mountain-Lion?” she asked gently.
    The sentinel called Miztli turned back to face the other man. “This dubious stranger, who is not of these lands, dares to come before us seeking the clansmen of the Mixtépoch. And with no regard to the great and wise Tsepítt whatsoever.” A certain air of distaste had returned to his voice.
    The woman merely eyed the man with inquiring eyes. “Do not concern yourself with him then, commander. I will deal with him myself from this point on.”
    Not entirely trusting of the idea, the tall patrolman glowered sternly before turning to leave. “As my Lady wishes,” he said. Then he walked off into one of the passageways linked to the chamber, leaving the stranger alone with the woman.
    She gave him a warm smile after the sentinel had gone. “Welcome to the Mixtépoch Teocáli, Lord Venom. Despite our loyal sentinel commander’s distrustful attitude, we have been expecting you.” With the graceful gesture of one delicate hand, she motioned to the archway into the garden directly behind her. “Please, follow me.”
    The warrior Venom nodded graciously as they began their walk through what turned out to be one of the most tranquil of places he had visited in quite some time. It was also conveniently placed, since it led directly into a vast ballroom sized chamber that the woman called the House of Song; a central gathering point for all important occasions of the clan. Just on the opposite end from where they entered was a passage leading down what appeared to be the main hall. As they approached a fork in the path with a descending stairwell in between Venom said, “I am pleased that the more (*ahem*) prestigious members of the Meesh-tehpoch took my request seriously.”
    The woman turned and slightly raised an eyebrow at him. Had he slurred the name of the clan just as awkwardly as she thought he did? “…Yes, well, your proposal intrigued our leaders. It seems that your league of fighters in the North has caused a bit more of a… shall we say, stir than you would know.”
    Venom tipped his head sideways with a hint of pride. “Hence, your leader’s interest in meeting with me personally,” he said. “Now, what do I refer to your leader as anyway? I don’t believe I know his official title.”
    “Cóhuatzin,” replied his hostess. She said nothing more.
    Venom gave a short hum of comprehension. “Co-whaat-seen,” he murmured, getting a feel for the name. They passed quietly through a long, rectangular passage with colorful painted images of warriors on either side before he smiled to himself and added, “I don’t believe I got your name.”
    “I did not offer it,” she replied, turning to favor him with a smile of her own. “I am Pakápeti.”
    “Are all your names so… feminine here?” Venom asked, remembering the sentinel Miztli.
    The woman named Pakápeti chuckled to herself. “Perhaps to some, it would appear so. My name means—” She paused for a moment. “Tiptoe.”
    This time Venom chuckled. “Tiptoe. And the big guard at the front was Mountain-Lion, right?” The two figures stepped out of the passageway and descended a small set of stairs that led down from side to side as much as they did in front. Looking back, this stairway appeared as a minuscule pyramid set against the impressive landscape mural on the wall. “What’s through those doors?” Venom had stopped. He was looking from side to side at the curved arches that stood opposite each other on both sides of the square hall, both leading up broad flights of stairs.
    “These are the access routes to the twin towers,” said Pakápeti, halting next to him. “The tower of the sun, the tower of the moon. They are the citadels of the two houses you surely must have seen outside the temple.”
    “I think so,” said Venom. “Do you mean those two fronts on either side of the courtyard? You’re saying the clan still occupies those old ruins?”
    “Yes, they are the warrior’s dwellings. Living quarters, sanitary closets, bath houses, all we can provide to keep them comfortable.”
    Pakápeti continued onward, leading Venom onto a wide bridge of stone suspended over a deep chasm, that for all the world looked to be bottomless. “Whoa,” Venom muttered under his breath. A similar darkening void lay directly above. As a matter of fact, by surveying these surroundings he got the impression that he was moving from one mountainside into another. “So what is the meaning behind your great leader’s name? Or,” he turned to peer into the black precipice beneath the bridge, “are you not at liberty to say?”
    “Our leader is named Armored Serpent,” said Pakápeti. “Although, his years of dedicated service to the One-World have rightfully earned him the -tzin honorific. So he is now respectively the Lord Serpent.” Her voice seemed to echo as they passed over the bridge and into a lofty corridor lined with statues of gigantic hooded cobras. Oil lamps no longer provided the light, which now seemed to come from somewhere unseen.
    “Quite a place,” Venom observed, eyeing the masterfully carved stone snakes. Pakápeti lifted her head upwards to admire her surroundings, almost as if for the first time in years.
    “This once belonged to the snake god Tsepítt long ago,” she said.
    “The same god that guard spoke of?”
    “Yes. Legend has it the god was in league with the tyrant Huitzilopóchtli, and as such was an enemy to the Mixtépoch. However, Tseppít eventually chose to renounce his loyalty to the evil god. It is said that Huitztli disposed of him for his betrayal, and in one of life’s little ironies the great temple of the snake god became our proud faction’s headquarters. It was Cóhuatzin himself who procured the temple, and oversaw its change into a more fitting place for us to dwell in.”
    Venom grinned to himself as she finished recounting the headquarter’s origin, which unless he was mistaken sounded like something she took pride in. He couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t as grandiose as his own fortress, but it certainly was just as—if not more so—visually astounding in its design. This temple was as much a hospitable dwelling ground as it was an orderly base of operations.
    From the tall corridor, they entered a large hexagonal chamber filled with a low greenish light coming up from the walls. As both he and Pakápeti came to a stop over an intricately carved seal at the center of the room, he looked down and realized for the first time that his feet were the only ones making any noise against the stone floor.
    “Well,” he intoned. “I don’t know about anyone else in this temple. But your name certainly suits you.” He made a rather tawdry smile.
    Pakápeti looked at him squarely in the eyes. “You will find that everything here has meaning,” she said. “And purpose.” She then offered him a small grin before ordering aloud, “Down.”
    With that, the seal beneath their feet began to give off an audible half-rumbling half-humming noise, as if something were rolling through the air in the room. Light began to emanate from the dozens of symbols etched along the surface, and as Venom watched there emitted from the edges of the seal rising curtains of golden energy, closing around the two figures and forming a cylinder of light that stretched vertically upward towards the ceiling. Looking up, Venom noticed that directly above was another seal almost identical to the one he was now standing on, likewise glowing with the same strange force.
    Then all of a sudden the light surrounding him dissipated, and he found that he and Pakápeti now stood in an entirely different chamber. Obviously different, since it was larger in scale, and instead of a deep green atmosphere the room was barely illuminated by a dark blue aura. The only threshold from which they had entered was now gone. But there were three new doors behind and off to either side of where they now stood, each with a large face carved on its archway and a different shade of colored lighting. Directly ahead was an open hallway to a single sealed chamber. Venom was, sufficed to say, more than a little surprised.
    “This way please,” said his still-grinning hostess, moving towards the doorway behind them. “I trust you will find our ameyatl to be a most agreeable waiting room.”
    Venom hurried after her. “I’m uh, sorry? Your?—”
    “Ameyatl. The Fountain.”
    Beneath the sculpted face of a young woman bathed in turquoise light, a thick curtain Venom had guessed to be a translucent mural painted over the door parted itself. Pakápeti led him through a front hall where water cascaded from beautiful carvings into troughs on either side, and into a large cavernous room almost entirely occupied by three spacious bathing pools. Sea-green light flooded the room’s interior, shining throughout with the glimmering reflections of the water below. The air was warm, almost tropical, and Venom was sure that he could see steam rising from the surface of each pool. Beautiful greenery also added to the exotic ambiance; twisting vines, thick moss patches, and an assortment of large, colorful blossoms one would only expect to find in the peaceful seclusion of the jungle were tastefully arranged all about the fountain.
    “I shall inform Lord Cóhuatl of your arrival,” said Pakápeti. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
    As the curtain closed behind her, Venom stepped forward to admire the inviting pools. Almost instantly his eyes fell upon two girls under one of the limestone columns. They were lovely young things, and from where he stood it looked almost as though they were wearing nothing at all, for they had on single-piece bathing suits made of smooth, shimmering scales. One of them looked up at the stranger standing at the water’s edge. Venom’s brow rose as he saw that her eyes were perfect orbs of gemstone azure! There was no white in them; no iris or pupil he could make out. Just that sky colored blue staring right back at him. The other girl craned her head to see what had captured her companion’s interest, and Venom found himself looking at a new pair of inhuman eyes, this time pure black almost as if each pupil had somehow expanded to fill the entire eye.
    —Something off to the side attracted Venom’s attention, and as he turned to see, a large ochre-colored snake lifted its head from the pool. It looked at him with dull gray eyes for a moment before slipping back into the water and moving on. Turning the other way, Venom came to notice a large boa constrictor perched on a stone carving not unlike a bird bath. It looked like it was asleep judging from how its coils slowly expanded and relaxed.
    “Some place this guy’s got here,” Venom thought to himself. The girls he had been staring at resumed their quiet lounging at the base of the column. One of them moved off from it and calmly bent forward, disappearing silently into the water. The other leaned back against the column in an almost dreamlike state. It was then that Venom looked up at an elevated platform just past the central pool and saw the hooded cobras rising up over the stone.
    There were several of them, and it looked to Venom as though they were bobbing and swaying ever so slightly while looking at one another. Occasionally one would tilt its angular head back and hiss, sending a swishing echo through the chamber. Every time this happened, the girl resting above water would emit a soft humming noise that likewise filled the room. The result was a vaguely haunting trill that, under different circumstances, could have actually lulled someone into a restful trance after a while.
    Venom winced uncomfortably at the sound coming from the platform. Those snakes were breathing very loudly.
    “Enjoying the serenade, Lord Venom?”
    A low voice he did not recognize alerted him from behind. Venom turned to see a man standing just within the arch, his hands behind his back and a hood covering his face. The rest of the cloak he wore was cast over his shoulders, and his beautiful golden armor and white garments gleamed in the sparkling light of the fountain.
    “I’ve been waiting for you,” the man spoke again. “Follow me.”
    Venom gladly strode after the richly dressed warrior back into the circular hallway and over the transporting crest towards the open corridor he had earlier glimpsed. A number of huge, sinister-looking metallic cobras reared in attack positions lined the walls. Their mouths hung open showing long, curved fangs nearly as large as a man. At the end of the corridor, he was led through a square door that opened inward to a rather modest but spacious chamber with a domed ceiling covered with mosaic textiles. Vibrant oil lamps provided the main lighting for the room, which Venom figured was some sort of audience chamber.
    “I take it Cóhuatzin will see me now?” he intoned after some silence.
    The other man turned to him and removed his hood, revealing a flowing mane of smooth dark hair and a set of glowing reptilian eyes. “I am Cóhuatzin,” he said. Venom held his tongue. “And I bid you welcome to my temple. As we say in the One-World, Mixpantzinco.”
    Not sure what to respond with, Venom nodded respectfully to the Lord Serpent. “Well, I am honored to be here.”
    “The honor is mine,” said Cóhuatzin. He extended an arm and gave Venom a hearty handshake. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we might receive less interruptions here in my private audience room.”
    “Fine by me,” said Venom. “I was just admiring your headquarters. This is quite a temple you found yourself.”
    The Lord Serpent smiled at that. “I hope the trek here wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for you,” he said.
    “Oh, no. These days, one can’t take too many precautions with personal security.”
    Agreeing to this, Cóhuatzin removed his robe and hung it like a drapery over a stone eagle. “Would you like a refreshment? Tea, wine, hot chocolate, milk, iced patzcatl perhaps?” Before Venom could respond, Cóhuatzin turned and clapped twice. Almost instantly, a short bald man appeared from a square doorway off to the side of the dais. He was wearing a very noticeable jeweled collar that wrapped stately across his whole upper chest. He bowed his head courteously to Venom and Cóhuatzin, who spoke to him directly. “Tozáni, service for 2 please. Bring some octlí, with rum in it.”
    The bald man nodded once and went off to an alcove in one of the far corners of the chamber. Venom half-shrugged to himself, smiling politely at his host.
    “I appreciate your hospitality, Cóhuatzin.”
    “Please, Venom. We can drop the formalities here I think.”
    Such a suggestion didn’t quite come as a relief to Venom. —He wasn’t particularly keen on revealing that he found the Lord Serpent’s official title easier to pronounce than his informal cognomen. He instead chose to settle on a common error that many before him had already stumbled upon.
    “In that case, Ermaks-tula, shall we get down to business?”
    Cóhuatl made an expression that hinted at his fighting back a laugh.
    It did not go unnoticed.
    “…Your, uh, attendant outside informed me that my clan has raised some attention here among your warriors. Well, truth be told, when I heard of you and word got out of the Mixtépoch order, it sparked an interest among us. —The leaders of the clan, that is.”
    Listening to Venom (who’s tone had become slightly flustered for an instant) brought a serious demeanor back to Cóhuatl.
    “So, the Pit Vipers are interested in dealing with the Mixtépoch. Very interesting.”
    “We have considered such an alliance,” said Venom. “Based on what we’ve heard, the members of this clan seem to be just the kind of fighters the Pit Vipers are looking for.”
    Cóhuatl made an amused humming sound. “And exactly what sort of fighters is your clan looking for?”
    The response he got from Venom was not what he expected.
    “Only the best.”
    Cóhuatl blinked. “Ah… I see.” Folding his arms behind his back, he turned to look at the alcove in the far corner of the room where the bald man stood busily preoccupied with something unseen.
    “To be perfectly honest,” Venom stated, “I came here hoping to specifically recruit you as a part of our ranks.”
    Again Cóhuatl made a sound of amusement. “I see.” He turned back to face Venom. “It appears I was right to say that the honor of your visit is mine.”
    “Your repute is well-deserved,” Venom continued. “Besides, a clan such as mine could always do with a good sorcerer.”
    Cóhuatl laughed pleasantly. “Well, we shall certainly see about that.”
    “So you’ll consider it,” Venom chided.
    “Yes,” said Cóhuatl. “But before I make my decision, there’s something I would like clarified.” He gave Venom a searching look. “Perhaps you could show me just what you mean when you say ‘the best.’ I think a trial demonstration might be a good idea.”
    Venom raised an eyebrow, staring back at Cóhuatl for a moment. “Hmm… I’m listening.”
    As if this had been a cue, the bald servant returned carrying a small tray with him. Two bronze goblets rested on it, filled with a pale frothy liquid. Cóhuatl took both drinks and nodded approvingly. “Thank you, Tózani.” With a hearty grin, the servant bowed and left the room.
    Cóhuatl resumed his proposition. “This temple is built on numerous levels. Hidden well below the Earth’s surface, there is a secular region that exists for the sole purpose of testing a warrior’s endurance. Really quite a challenge, actually. The disciples aren’t even allowed to know about it. Among the knights and officials here, this testing ground is referred to as the gauntlet.” Cóhuatl looked at Venom with something of a rousing gleam in his eyes, noticing his words had brought a look of intrigue to Venom’s face. “I understand that you have a similar, shall we say, trial for your warriors back at your fortress.”
    The look in Venom’s eyes was beginning to mirror Cóhuatl’s. “A gauntlet, eh? Interesting.” Without thinking too hard about what was being offered to him, he added, “So tell me, what kind of a challenge are we talking here in regard to this testing ground of yours?”
    With a rather ambiguous grin, Cóhuatl handed Venom a goblet. For a moment Venom glanced down to examine the liquor within, before looking back up as Cóhuatl spoke. His voice was as equivocal as his grin.
    “I do believe it’s right up your alley.”
    There was a clanking as both cups struck in succession.
    Venom swallowed some of the alcohol down, mildly impressed by its potency. The rum that had been mixed into it was distinguishable enough, but what exactly it had been blended with was new to him. It was like some sweet and sour beer Venom had never tasted anywhere else before.
    “Interesting,” he managed after clearing his throat. “Very different… But nice.”
    “Practical also,” said Cóhuatl.
    Venom stopped in mid-sip. “Practical? How so?”
    “Sharpens your senses,” Cóhuatl explained. “You can perceive things around you with a heightened awareness.” He smiled as he lifted the drink to his lips. “You’ll be needing it where we’re going.”
    With a smile of his own, Venom raised his goblet. “Here’s to a promising alliance, Lord Serpent,” he said.
    “We’ll see,” Cóhuatl smiled. He swallowed the last of his liquor, set the empty goblet down on the floor, and then motioned for the doorway behind Venom. “Come with me,” he said.
    Swallowing the last bit of the sensory-enchancing liquor, Venom placed his own cup next to Cóhuatl’s on the floor. No doubt the sorcerer had someone who would come in to fetch both goblets later. He squared his shoulders with dignity, and walked after his new associate to face the Serpent’s challenge.