Casca 2: God of Death by Barry Sadler

twelfth day, Casca caught his first look at their destination. Shock – and wonder – engulfed him. There in the vast bowl of the plateau below them was a city such as might compare in grandeur and size with many Roman and Greek cities he had seen. Yet it was strange also. It resembled what he imagined had been the cities whose ruins he had seen in Mesopotamia. There were straight streets and broad avenues, temples and pyramids. From this distance the pyramids looked like those fellow soldiers in the legion who had served in Egypt had described to him. The walls of the city flashed with color even at this distance. It had the feel of being filled with low, square buildings; it had the look of being clean-and of being laid out geometrically. Thousands of the inhabitants were visible. At this distance they looked like ants as they went about their business.
    The leader of the Teotec pointed proudly to the scene below.
    " Teotah!" he exclaimed, then pointed to the sky and repeated, "Teotah."
    Teotah ... Teotec ... City of the gods. Good enough. At least I should be able to find out what's going to happen here , Casca thought. The plain below was shimmering with the heat of midday. Cacti, those long-leafed spiny plants that reached heights of over six feet, were abundant. There were also fields planted with crops of which Casca knew nothing – but the fields were obviously well cared for and well-tended.
    The Jaguar leader sent one of his men ahead as a runner, apparently to announce their arrival. The full party continued at a more leisurely pace. Crowds had already gathered to look at the captives as they entered the city from the south along a broad thoroughfare. Casca was able to get a good look at those looking at him. For the most part, the men he saw wore only a loincloth of white or brown, the women a two-piece dress consisting of a skirt and jacket. Many of these were decorated with geometric patterns. They caught Casca's eye because they resembled the designs he had seen in Greece. But other of the designs were a random blending of colors, no order at all, just colors mixed for the pleasure of it. It was obvious which were the married women; they wore their hair in a bun. The young girls wore their hair loose or in braids wrapped around their heads like crowns. As on the trail to this city, many of the natives would come out and touch the prisoners, making hand signs and smiling. Casca couldn't figure what the hell this was all about; it was a repetition of the ritual that had puzzled him on the journey.
    Before the party entered the city proper they passed through the outskirts where merchants hawked their wares and vendors sold the crops of the region. Casca noted that workers and farmers were careful to keep their distance from those of the upper classes – at least he thought they were the upper classes since their dress was more elaborate and their manner more authoritative. There were some whom he took to be the nobles of the city for they were carried in sedan chairs not very different from those of Rome.
    As they entered the city proper, Casca could see that the walls were painted in a bright, rich coloring the like of which he had never seen elsewhere in his travels, painted with bold murals, but he was hustled along before he could get a really close look at them. The people lined the avenues leading to what was a great square. They were orderly, mannerly. There was none of the hate and vile behavior that he had witnessed in the Roman mob indulging itself when captives were paraded through the streets. These people were quite well mannered, almost docile, and their deference to the Jaguar men was obvious.
    But there was something strange about the whole procedure.
    Something that did not quite fit.
    It was not too long before he found out what it was....
    The Jaguar men stood before the great pyramid.
    The priests came forth to look at the captives and determine which would have the honor of being the first