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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 – Return Journey

The warriors spent a sleepless night in the settlement's ruins.

It was still the latter half of the Mexican dry season, corresponding to early February in the Gregorian calendar, so there was no rain overnight. Early the next morning, Xiulote rose from beside the campfire and went with Tetlsi to fetch water.

In the rainforest, the most crucial supplies are food and clean water. A semi-nomadic settlement like this could not have stored much food. The warriors merely gathered some smoked meat and corn flour while showing no interest in the unknown wild greens, dried fruits, or insects they found.

Using strong agave-rope cords, Aoloxi strung the captives together in two parallel lines. Then, taking Xiulote and Tetlsi with him, half the troop took point while Makali and the remaining half formed the rear guard.

Rainforest paths are always rugged and difficult. Towering trees blot out the sky, and among the branches lurk brilliantly colored venomous snakes. Marshes and mud pits spread across the ground, while within the weeds, deadly frogs and swarms of mosquitos lie hidden.

This place is a green desert—every stagnant pool conceals parasites and poisonous creatures.

Fortunately, Aoloxi was not only a valiant Jaguar Warrior but also an expert in jungle survival. He had everyone apply a pungent ointment to their skin, and before long he located a river. The group then followed the relatively open riverbank, winding southward along its course.

Walking on the muddy edge of the riverbank, Xiulote took care to keep his distance from any "deadwood" floating in the water, avoiding any unwelcome "surprises" such as American crocodiles. At the same time, he curiously asked Aoloxi, "Teacher, where does this river lead?"

"This river is called Tampan. If we travel upstream along it, we'll pass through two city-states of the Alliance. With about half a month's journey, we can reach the Holy City, Teotihuacan; then three more days beyond that is the Great Alliance's capital: the homeland the Sun God promised us Mexica people—the lake-bound city of Tenochtitlán.

"That city is truly magnificent and beautiful! A thousand dugout canoes filled with goods, a thousand chinampas planted with corn, a thousand neighborhoods brimming with Mexica warriors, and a thousand colossal pyramids stacked with giant stones for the great temples. It is the Alliance's greatest city and the very center of the world. It's also where your family and mine originally came from."

Xiulote nodded. Tenochtitlán was the capital of the Aztec city-state alliance, as well as its richest and most powerful city. In the end, this grand city on the lake was destroyed by the Spanish colonizers' hands, symbolizing the fall of Aztec civilization.

On the ruins of Tenochtitlán rose Mexico City, which submitted to the Christian God.

Reflecting for a moment on the capital's splendor and beauty, Xiulote next asked, "Teacher, have you ever gone downriver along the Tampan?"

This time, Aoloxi fell into his own memories. Only after a good while did he answer: "Many years ago, I followed the great Montezuma I in his campaign against the Huastec city-states. From here, if you continue down the Tampan River for more than twenty days and cross the mountains, you'll reach a plain. At the boundary between the plain and the forest lies the Huastec city-state of Cuxicapan.

"Beyond that city-state is a vast lake that stretches as far as the eye can see. The lake marks the edge of the world, yet it also opens to every corner of the world.

"Many distant island-dwellers live on that lake. They come by canoe to trade feathers, pottery, and cotton cloth. There's a legend that far to the north of the lake lies a land of endless forests inhabited only by savages. Each year, there is a terrifying divine disaster—the white ash—that kills every living thing."

Xiulote paused in thought, realizing that the "vast lake" was the Caribbean Sea, the "islands" were the Caribbean Islands, and the "forest and white-ash land" to the north was North America. Because there are no east–west mountain ranges across North America, when winter arrives, harsh cold air sweeps down from the Arctic, annihilating all settlements and repeatedly eradicating any budding civilizations.

For the Aztecs—who still relied on stone tools and very early bronze technology—these warm, year-round city-states in Mesoamerica represented all there was to the world. In the trackless rainforest without horses or roads, traveling three or four months on foot—at most five or six hundred kilomeTetlsi—already approached the limits of one's known universe.

Within this world, the many Maya cities of the Yucatán Peninsula were foreign lands nearly impossible to reach. The Caribbean islands were handed-down stories from ancient times. The Indian tribes of North America and the Inca Empire of South America remained only in unknown legends, let alone the Spanish conquistadors from the other side of the ocean, who would one day arrive without warning.

Pondering over the world's unknown future, Xiulote fell silent, simply following behind Aoloxi. Traveling through the rainforest also consumed a great deal of his stamina.

During the march, the group took one break—because a scout had spotted a wild deer drinking by the riverbank.

Aoloxi ordered everyone to keep quiet. He went forward alone, taking a wooden throwing-spear around two meTetlsi long, attaching the feathered end to a hand-held atlatl about a foot in length. He raised it with his right hand, using the shelter of trees, and bent low, moving noiselessly.

The Jaguar Warrior seemed to merge entirely with the forest. He crept to within thirty meTetlsi of the target. Suddenly, the deer stopped drinking, lifted its head, and glanced warily from side to side, as though sensing something. In that split second, a piercing whoosh tore through the air, and the deer crashed heavily to the ground, life gone in an instant.

All the warriors cheered in unison, shouting "Jaguar!" while, in the distance, the captives could not hide their fearful expressions.

Xiulote came over for a look and saw that the throwing-spear had pierced the deer's heart, the force so great that it exited clean through the body.

Amazed at the accuracy and power of this ranged weapon, the young man half-admiringly, half-enviously said, "Teacher, this throwing-spear is incredible. Could I learn it too?"

Aoloxi's face showed pride. He nodded with a smile, then shook his head.

"I'll teach you, but you can't master it in just a year or two. Soon you'll begin your training in the temple as a priest. The Alliance never lacks a Jaguar noble warrior, but every priest is sacred and vital."

With that, Aoloxi set up camp by the river and built a fire. He told Tetlsi to butcher and smoke the deer meat. Half the warriors went into the woods to hunt and gather more provisions. Meanwhile, Aoloxi took out a small obsidian knife and squatted by the fire to further refine the tip of his throwing-spear, then baked it over the flames to harden it into shape.

Wooden and stone weapons may match early bronze arms in sharpness, but their durability is worlds apart.

In this way, they trekked another two or three days. Gradually, the elevation rose, the trees thinned out, and the view opened up.

Far off in the distance, Xiulote finally caught sight of a slender plume of smoke rising in the air, with sparse corn plants growing across a broad field. Practicing slash-and-burn agriculture, the fields had only a faint outline, and a modestly sized village gradually appeared at the edge of sight.

As the warriors drew closer, a shrill whistling rang out from the village.

Xiulote watched figures milling around and gathering there. Aoloxi led the party to a halt roughly a hundred meTetlsi from the settlement, in an open area. Twenty warriors gripped shields and clubs, waiting in silence.

After some time, the village's group surged forth all at once—over two hundred robust men carrying assorted wooden staffs and stone-tipped spears, plus a dozen hunTetlsi armed with flimsy shortbows and slings. Leading them at the front was an elderly man wearing a feathered headdress and silver ornaments.

The old man took note of the "Jaguar" attire and could not fully conceal his unease. Hurrying forward with a few villagers, he bowed and spoke:

"Esteemed Jaguar Warrior, I am the elder of this village. May I ask why you have come here? We Huastecs have already submitted to the Great Alliance for more than ten rainy seasons, and we've always made our four annual tributes on time. We even turned in our New Year tribute well in advance. It's not yet harvest season, so our storehouse has neither grain nor hides."

"The mighty Axayacatl has already returned to the realm of the gods. His elder brother Tízoc has ascended as the new Tlatoani. A grand coronation ceremony will be held this year!" At the mention of the coronation ceremony, Aoloxi glanced at the village elder.

A flash of fear crossed the elder's face. He immediately dropped to his knees. "We Huastecs have never wavered in our loyalty to the Alliance. We are ready to provide more offerings to celebrate the new Great King's accession."

"Excellent. So long as you maintain loyalty to the Alliance, you won't become sacrifices at the dedication rites. We have just returned from capturing sacrifices in the northern jungle," Aoloxi said, pointing to the captives in the distance. "Now we need food for a hundred people for ten days, mostly tortillas, with the remainder in black beans."

"Of course, we won't take them for free." Aoloxi noted the elder's extremely grim expression and eyed the more than two hundred armed villagers not far off. After a moment's thought, he took out a pouch made of cotton cloth, stuffed full, and handed it to the elder. "Inside is a piece of cloth about the size of two palms, along with two handfuls of cocoa beans. We've just returned from capturing prisoners and are eager to get back to the city, so we won't linger in your village."

Those words were like the final weight tipping the scales. The village elder's face grew bitter, and at last he nodded.

He went back to the assembled villagers and shouted a few commands. There was a minor outburst of agitation among them, but it quickly died down again after the elder's stern reprimand. Then two villagers headed to the largest building in the settlement and brought out two large bundles of tortillas on their backs and, in each hand, a big clay jar.

Xiulote watched them lower their heads, fearful as they handed the tortillas and jars to the warriors. But once they rejoined the other villagers, their expressions turned resentful once more.

Aoloxi weighed the tortillas, opened a jar, and tasted a mouthful of the black bean paste inside. Satisfied, he nodded at the village elder and gave a sweeping gesture. At once, the warriors slung their obsidian war clubs behind them, then departed with their provisions and captives in tow.

They walked for a while, and Xiulote glanced back at the village in the distance. It looked as though the villagers were still gathered with their crude weapons, watching the warriors leave. Smoke still rose slowly within the settlement—some hidden spark of anger seemed to smolder beneath it.