Chapter 13
Xoctol’s predictions were slowly coming true. Riots at the gates had become
daily actions now, and a gun shot was not scaring them off as easily. The city was
gradually picking themselves up off of the ground that the whites had pushed them on.
The Rejects were also becoming railed up and the emperor was no longer having the
control he once did. The Rejects had grown to twenty sets of hands, and the weapons pot was growing to. The people were getting more and more angry, and they would finally rise up and get blood to appease the gods.
A week of small fires in the Aztec’s hearts had grown into a flame. The riots were growing and becoming skirmishes, but soon they would become small battles as the
Aztecs were getting more desperate. The whites were becoming more and more edgy as it
became harder and harder for them to obtain supplies. Finally Xoctol agreed it was time for the Rejects to make themselves known. He gave orders for the secret weapon to be brought then he went out at the front of his group thrilled at the sight of all of his work finally being put into action. He knew war wouldn’t begin now, but he needed to encourage the people. And hopefully in a few days the city would be in an uproar if Xoctol could capture at least one white. The Denied ambled down the road. A few people came rushing out of houses to join them, as they ran up to gate. He turned to see some of the Denied running up behind with a huge sharpened log. They slowly carried it forward and he gave orders for positions on the log and he armed his bow. The log slowly began to make an impact on the gates, he smiled when he saw the fear in the eyes of the white. The numbers of the Aztecs were growing as more and more people joined them.
Xoctol raised his bow and shot at a white at the top of the wall. The white was hit in the leg tumbled down the wall but was still alive. The whites ran up with more
reinforcements and began to open fire. The Aztecs began to fall but Xoctol gave orders for the grabbing of the fallen white man. The Denied grabbed him and ran off satisfied at the result of the skirmish.
Xoctol stared resolutely at the prisoner. The white man watched with scared eyes as the circle of Aztecs gradually tightened, their intentions were obvious. Xoctol gave orders to guard him and then went off into a side room with one of his leaders. They discussed what should be done and finally agreed on handing him over to the priests. They would know what should be done. So Xoctol had the prisoner tied up and brought to the priests. They didn’t portray their intentions but Xoctol had an idea what would happen for a man so hated by their country.
The people gathered watched sullenly as the white prisoner was slowly led up the steps to the top of the temple. Xoctol felt no guilt for his part in his capture, this blood was needed for it was the start of the annihilation of the whites. The only thing that could commensurate for the lives lost was the destruction of the whites. And every Aztec gathered was ready to pay the ultimate price for that. There was no raucous chantingfor this sacrifice. This was the beginning of a long hard war, the dawn of a revolution, and the birth of people strong and proud. Who would no longer sit and watch themselves be persecuted and killed. They would no longer watch their wives be murdered for some trinkets made of metal, or their husbands be led away to made an example. They werenot weak and if there was to be blood let it begin with the white’s blood. Tonight they were weak men and women who couldn’t defend themselves or protect their city. But tomorrow they would become a gigantic army who would spread across the city destroying every remnant of the whites coming.
Chapter 14
War has begun! Aztecs all over the city were grabbing any weapons they could.
Last night at the sacrifice, the priests announced their plans. The emperor has betrayed the city they said, gasps had swept around the room like leaves in a storm. The priests were now the only hope for leadership. They encouraged all resistance groups to no longer remain waiting and to get their weapons. Xoctol ran home to spread the word. The morning had come and the Denied had started to arrive. Xoctol was passing out weapons as soon they arrived. Some brought their own but most didn’t. Xoctol gathered them all for a meeting and yelled out. “We are no longer Denied, but are now freedom fighters! And we will no longer let the whites take our food, destroy our buildings, and hurt our families. We will fight back! Today we will take back what they have taken from us in white blood. We’ll destroy the palace even if we have to fight our way in, and kill all the whites. We will not stop until either their blood will flow down the temple steps, or we will lay in a pool of blood by the palace gates. We are not weak but strong. This day we will show that to the world, even if everyone should stand against us. The men watched proudly as their leader riled them up. His eyes were fierce as he cheered the men on to fight for their freedom. Xoctol yelled out a name from the people gathered. “You Cacama, how did you feel when you came home to find your family brutally murdered for a few golden coins?” Cacama’s eyes flashed. “These whites will pay for the wrongs they’ve done,” he said as he strutted to the front. When he reached the front of the room he cried out, “Xoctol, I will lead the first charge with you, and I will not retreat until they are all dead.” The soldiers murmured agreement. “And Axayaca,” Xoctol said, “How did you feel when you saw your mother’s body thrown down the temple steps?” Axayaca yelled as he ran to the front, “I too, will lead the first charge with you.” “And Tangaxoan and Xolotl,” Xoctol screamed, “How did you feel when your family’s bodies were hung up on the walls as an example?” Xoctol spit the words out. Tangaxoan replied for both of them, and for the hundreds of other Aztecs who had suffered the same pain of lost loved ones. Raising his voice so all could hear, “I didn’t think anyone could fall to doing such despicable acts. To kill a harmless unarmed man, woman, and child, simply for some food. These whites that have done this to us are not worthy enough to be sacrificed to the gods. Their bodies aren’t good enough to be
thrown into a stream, where their foul blood could curse the clean water. I wouldn’t feed them to my dogs because they would get sick on their spinous hearts, devoid of any feeling or compassion. We must kill them all, and I and Xolotl will lead the charge of the sword that will plunge into the hearts of the whites!”
With these words spoken from the soul of the Aztecs, every being became filled
with vehemence. Even those that hadn’t had human losses felt like they’d lost everything. The Aztecs raised their weapons shouting for all their worth. And the flood of fury swept off down the hill. Some grabbed the log for the gates and the rest ran outside and assembled then sprinted off down the road. This time they wouldn’t run as soon as there was conflict. People flooded the streets, the words of the priests in their minds. Every person armed with handmade weapons were rushing off to the palace. Then silence, at the front stood the high priest. He raised his arms and yelled to the war god.
“For You” was the cry. The crowd picked it up, as everyone thought about lost loved
ones and friends. The “For You” got louder and louder echoing down the streets as the
group got larger and larger until thousands were running down the street. “For You,”
“For You,” For You,” Thousands to ten thousands to hundred thousands of voices yelled
the plea. The palace was in sight and the mob of people rushed towards it. But then the emperor climbed up onto the wall. Shock spread throughout the mob, but they ignored his plea for them to return to their homes. They no longer trusted in him and a few rocks were thrown, one struck him and he fell. Some Aztecs felt guilt but he had betrayed them, and everyone who helped the whites deserved to die. The people made way for the logs as they hammered against the gates, again and again and again. Smoke and gunshots began to fill the air as the whites opened fire. The steady impact of the logs slowly began to make a mark. Cries of pain were beginning to sound but the deaths were almost unnoticed as more people went up to take their place. The whites on the wall seeing it was useless shooting into the enormous mob began focusing on the log carriers. One by one they fell, but more stepped up to take their place. The gates were gradually weakening. Xoctol was surprised that the entire army of the whites was not on the walls, and he feared some witchcraft. The deaths continued, but so did the logs and the gates were almost down. The bodies were beginning to pile up on the sides as more and more people were dying. The Aztecs were throwing themselves uselessly upon the walls, gladly giving their lives for the hope of reaching the whites. The gates were almost broken open and the people were beginning to prepare their weapons for a charge, when suddenly the gates burst open. The people rushed in, but Xoctol watched cautiously. He couldn’t believe how easily the gates had opened, when with horror he saw the reason. Xoctol could see just inside the gates the army of the whites waiting. The explosion of their guns killed thousands of Aztecs. But the Aztecs were now crazed and regardless of the danger they were charging anyway. Then the whites moved to the side, and Xoctol could see it, the metal witchcraft. The explosion knocked the mob off their feet, and the shot felled hundreds of the Aztecs. The rest ran away in shock and terror. Xoctol discouraged went off with them but this wasn’t the end. The Aztecs no longer cared about loses and camped around the city waiting for morning to continue attacks.
The sun rose and the Aztecs woke refreshed and ready to continue the battle. As
they got ready the bravado returned. But they were frustrated to find out that the
gates had been repaired in the night. The Aztecs once again started attacks and once again they suffered immense loses but they continued in numb determination. Once again it looked like the gates were falling, and the Aztecs were encouraged. Their hopes were suddenly dashed when the gates opened to reveal the whites mounted on their gigantic four-footed animals. The whites charged forward with a yell. And once again the Aztecs were mowed down. But this time some of the Spanish were captured, and others killed.
Hope returned despite the enormous slope in the Aztec loses verses the whites. The captured whites were sacrificed that night in view of the palace so that it would terrify the whites. And the white men began to have fear. They knew that they had the better weapons, but they were outnumbered by 20 to 1. And they were running low on supplies. They wouldn’t be able to get anymore, and they didn’t know how to fight against a people who would sacrifice 100 of themselves to kill just one white man. The white leaders discussed the problem all through the night and finally decided on a very bold but possibly fatal plan. It seemed their only hope. The sun rose that day and the whites once again pretended the Aztecs were breaking through the strong gates. When the gates broke through, the cannon fired, and the whites rushed out yelling and screaming with the men on the creatures making a path. The rest of the whites followed running through the seam made in the crowd of Aztecs. The Aztecs were finally able to fight them hand to hand and rushed at them but they weren’t able to kill them all. The whites continued running across the bridge. The Aztecs got into their boats, and began to kill the whites as they tried to cross. Tens of whites were falling and when they finally reached the other side they had only half their force left. They ran away from the city in defeat. Cheers and shouts of joy erupted from the crowd. They had finally defeated the whites. They had retaken their city and recovered their freedom.
Joyful shouts filled the air as the Aztecs rejoiced. Xoctol knowing that the war
was not over, yelled for his men to follow him but he was ignored. “We’ve won they
all thought!” so they screamed with joy. Finally after weeks of conflict the whites had been conquered. Xoctol didn’t understand. Didn’t they know that the whites would only return with more troops and they needed to follow and destroy the remaining whites while they still could. But no one believed Xoctol. The victory was theirs and they would enjoy it. Xoctol regretfully watched the whites fade into the woods. They were not defeated Xoctol knew but he couldn’t follow them by himself. Unfortunately he could only hope that the whites were so scared they wouldn’t try to return. He knew that the whites having seen all the gold that the Aztec’s had. Would return with more troops and try and conquer the city. But because no one else believed him he was forced to stay at the city, he regretfully turned with deference.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Chapter 9
It had been a two week since the white’s arrival. Ahexotl was going to work in the shop that day, and it was his turn to watch Omecihuatl, so Xoctol was free to do
whatever he wanted.
Xoctol decided he should call a meeting with his resistance group. Most of them had tried to get in the army but were denied because of status, so they took the name the “Denied.” Xoctol counted five sets of one hand in the Denied. They had furtively been trying to hinder the whites in every way. But they needed to be very insidious. If they were caught they would be instantly killed. They weren’t professional soldiers and knew nothing of fighting. But Xoctol had been trying to change that. He had gotten one of the Jaguar warriors to begin to train them. The Jaguar warriors were also restless and would help in some ways though they doubted Xoctol’s resistance group could accomplish much. Xoctol watched the training with a determined eye, thinking about more ways they could hurt the notorious whites without being wiped out. After the training session Xoctol relayed his thoughts. They were discussed but nothing was decided. They made plans to meet again later then they broke up going one at a time to not cause a distraction. Xoctol headed off down the street through the brindled dark. The only sound on this becalmed night was his footsteps on the pavement. Everything had been going perfectly according to Xoctol’s plan. His soldiers had begun their training, and his creations at the shop were almost finished. He reached the door to his house and stepped inside, his father
Ahexotl would not yet be asleep so he yelled. But the only reply was his echo. He
frowned but shrugged it off and went up to his room for some sleep.
Chapter 10
Cascades of tears flowed down Xoctol’s wan face. His eyes filled with pain as the
picture went through his mind over and over again.
He had awoken that day to find that Ahexotl and Omecihuatl had still not arrived. He was now thoroughly aroused from sleep, but confused. He went running out the door to search. Fear begin to creep into his mind at the disturbing thoughts but he abandoned them, nothing had happened he assured himself. They had just gotten lost on the way home in the dark. He knew it wasn’t true but he continued to fill his mind with lies all the way as he rushed on towards the gold-smithy. He finally reached it and found blood on the flap door. He shoved it reproachfully and went inside. His eyes filled with pain at the horrid sight before him.
The bodies of Ahexotl and Omecihuatl lay in pools of blood. His heart began to burn, the tears from his eyes began to splash to the ground. The scent of dried blood was in the air as Xoctol fell to the ground in grief. His face filled contorted pain as he stared at the lifeless bodies of his family. He found it difficult to get up as torment weighted him down. He finally staggered to his feet, and stared down at the bodies. He walked over to them. He could see the gapping holes from the sword thrusts, but he was even more horrified to find his mother’s body under the bodies of his sister and father. That explained the reason they were late. She must have surprised them so they had sat down to talk. Then the whites had come and ambushed them. He dried his face and tried to pull himself together. They didn’t need someone to cry for them he thought, they needed someone to get revenge for them, and if need die for them.
Xoctol’s raging spirit returned at this thought. He would avenge his family! Yes, the whites would soon learn to fear the name of Xoctol!
Chapter 11
He smiled because the whites hadn’t found anything. They didn’t find the secret room where the metals were stored. And so the whites had made an enemy of Xoctol for no reason. So he put himself whole heartily into beating the metals into a blade. He had made an alloy that makes a strong metal, and had begun making it into swords for his men similar to the white’s ones. This would even the odds he thought.
Meetings with the Denied became everyday now and Xoctol spent his time figuring out plans. They had sent messages to other cities asking for volunteers to destroy the whites. Few were interested but some joined because the soldiers of other towns were restless for battle. Xoctol’s group grew to 10 hand counts. He had moved the meeting place to his home now that it was empty. He needed the room and his house
could be more easily defended.
Xoctol wasn’t the only one angry at the whites, mini resistance group were
springing up all over the city. Hundreds of people, angry over dead loved ones, and
others who wanted freedom back were organizing. The whites must have also noticed the
changes for they were no longer capturing gold without risk. The Aztecs were beginning to fight back. The whites hadn’t lost many men but being resisted was what scared them most. They knew that the Aztecs out numbered them by over a million and so the whites started to fortify the palace. Strengthening the walls and training the men.
Chapter 12
Xoctol heard shouts out in the street. It sounded all too familiar. But by now Xoctol was looking for any information to help him in his quest for revenge. He was almost at the point of insanity at all the hate he was building up. He went into the street trying to appear calm. There was a crowd gathered and so he pushed his way up to the front. There he saw some whites leading a girl into the palace. Xoctol couldn’t recognize her unless she turned but the whites continued leading her forward towards the gates. She kept struggling and the whites were getting frustrated when suddenly a shot rang out. The girl fell and Xoctol gasped when he saw it was Mayauel. The volcano that had been building up for weeks in his heart erupted and he rushed towards the whites. He knew they had planned it and the dumb confused looks on their faces didn’t fool him. He knew they were trying to teach the Aztecs not to resist. He went forward in a fury only possible by a man who’s lost everything, but the Aztec crowd held him back. He struggled but it was useless and he was eventually forced to calm down. The whites went back into the palace and shut the gates with contempt. Xoctol shoved away from the crowd and ran back into the gold smith shop muttering vindictive curses and promising revenge.
Rocks crashed against the sturdy walls of the palace. The group of Aztecs yelled angrily, they were poorly armed but were to mad to continue to let the whites persecute them. Xoctol watched from a side street reticent to join. He watched the riot and knew that it wouldn’t succeed anything. The noise disturbed the whites inside the palace and one shot his gun. The Aztecs ran for cover and screamed because the new sound frightened them. Xoctol had heard enough gunshots now to not be worried, because he saw it was done simply to scare the rioters off. The last couple of weeks Xocotl had been trying to calm down, not in his plans or passion for revenge but merely in his attitude. He understood the foolishness of what the rioters were doing. What the Aztecs needed was a little more patience. Let the whites continue in their ways. They were only succeeding in weighting themselves down with gold and angering the people. Within a few weeks the entire city would be a rage, and then they would crush the whites no matter what the cost. Yes Xoctol smiled, it would work, it would have to work. He had slowly begun to unweave the intricate plan that would return freedom to the Aztecs.
It had been a two week since the white’s arrival. Ahexotl was going to work in the shop that day, and it was his turn to watch Omecihuatl, so Xoctol was free to do
whatever he wanted.
Xoctol decided he should call a meeting with his resistance group. Most of them had tried to get in the army but were denied because of status, so they took the name the “Denied.” Xoctol counted five sets of one hand in the Denied. They had furtively been trying to hinder the whites in every way. But they needed to be very insidious. If they were caught they would be instantly killed. They weren’t professional soldiers and knew nothing of fighting. But Xoctol had been trying to change that. He had gotten one of the Jaguar warriors to begin to train them. The Jaguar warriors were also restless and would help in some ways though they doubted Xoctol’s resistance group could accomplish much. Xoctol watched the training with a determined eye, thinking about more ways they could hurt the notorious whites without being wiped out. After the training session Xoctol relayed his thoughts. They were discussed but nothing was decided. They made plans to meet again later then they broke up going one at a time to not cause a distraction. Xoctol headed off down the street through the brindled dark. The only sound on this becalmed night was his footsteps on the pavement. Everything had been going perfectly according to Xoctol’s plan. His soldiers had begun their training, and his creations at the shop were almost finished. He reached the door to his house and stepped inside, his father
Ahexotl would not yet be asleep so he yelled. But the only reply was his echo. He
frowned but shrugged it off and went up to his room for some sleep.
Chapter 10
Cascades of tears flowed down Xoctol’s wan face. His eyes filled with pain as the
picture went through his mind over and over again.
He had awoken that day to find that Ahexotl and Omecihuatl had still not arrived. He was now thoroughly aroused from sleep, but confused. He went running out the door to search. Fear begin to creep into his mind at the disturbing thoughts but he abandoned them, nothing had happened he assured himself. They had just gotten lost on the way home in the dark. He knew it wasn’t true but he continued to fill his mind with lies all the way as he rushed on towards the gold-smithy. He finally reached it and found blood on the flap door. He shoved it reproachfully and went inside. His eyes filled with pain at the horrid sight before him.
The bodies of Ahexotl and Omecihuatl lay in pools of blood. His heart began to burn, the tears from his eyes began to splash to the ground. The scent of dried blood was in the air as Xoctol fell to the ground in grief. His face filled contorted pain as he stared at the lifeless bodies of his family. He found it difficult to get up as torment weighted him down. He finally staggered to his feet, and stared down at the bodies. He walked over to them. He could see the gapping holes from the sword thrusts, but he was even more horrified to find his mother’s body under the bodies of his sister and father. That explained the reason they were late. She must have surprised them so they had sat down to talk. Then the whites had come and ambushed them. He dried his face and tried to pull himself together. They didn’t need someone to cry for them he thought, they needed someone to get revenge for them, and if need die for them.
Xoctol’s raging spirit returned at this thought. He would avenge his family! Yes, the whites would soon learn to fear the name of Xoctol!
Chapter 11
He smiled because the whites hadn’t found anything. They didn’t find the secret room where the metals were stored. And so the whites had made an enemy of Xoctol for no reason. So he put himself whole heartily into beating the metals into a blade. He had made an alloy that makes a strong metal, and had begun making it into swords for his men similar to the white’s ones. This would even the odds he thought.
Meetings with the Denied became everyday now and Xoctol spent his time figuring out plans. They had sent messages to other cities asking for volunteers to destroy the whites. Few were interested but some joined because the soldiers of other towns were restless for battle. Xoctol’s group grew to 10 hand counts. He had moved the meeting place to his home now that it was empty. He needed the room and his house
could be more easily defended.
Xoctol wasn’t the only one angry at the whites, mini resistance group were
springing up all over the city. Hundreds of people, angry over dead loved ones, and
others who wanted freedom back were organizing. The whites must have also noticed the
changes for they were no longer capturing gold without risk. The Aztecs were beginning to fight back. The whites hadn’t lost many men but being resisted was what scared them most. They knew that the Aztecs out numbered them by over a million and so the whites started to fortify the palace. Strengthening the walls and training the men.
Chapter 12
Xoctol heard shouts out in the street. It sounded all too familiar. But by now Xoctol was looking for any information to help him in his quest for revenge. He was almost at the point of insanity at all the hate he was building up. He went into the street trying to appear calm. There was a crowd gathered and so he pushed his way up to the front. There he saw some whites leading a girl into the palace. Xoctol couldn’t recognize her unless she turned but the whites continued leading her forward towards the gates. She kept struggling and the whites were getting frustrated when suddenly a shot rang out. The girl fell and Xoctol gasped when he saw it was Mayauel. The volcano that had been building up for weeks in his heart erupted and he rushed towards the whites. He knew they had planned it and the dumb confused looks on their faces didn’t fool him. He knew they were trying to teach the Aztecs not to resist. He went forward in a fury only possible by a man who’s lost everything, but the Aztec crowd held him back. He struggled but it was useless and he was eventually forced to calm down. The whites went back into the palace and shut the gates with contempt. Xoctol shoved away from the crowd and ran back into the gold smith shop muttering vindictive curses and promising revenge.
Rocks crashed against the sturdy walls of the palace. The group of Aztecs yelled angrily, they were poorly armed but were to mad to continue to let the whites persecute them. Xoctol watched from a side street reticent to join. He watched the riot and knew that it wouldn’t succeed anything. The noise disturbed the whites inside the palace and one shot his gun. The Aztecs ran for cover and screamed because the new sound frightened them. Xoctol had heard enough gunshots now to not be worried, because he saw it was done simply to scare the rioters off. The last couple of weeks Xocotl had been trying to calm down, not in his plans or passion for revenge but merely in his attitude. He understood the foolishness of what the rioters were doing. What the Aztecs needed was a little more patience. Let the whites continue in their ways. They were only succeeding in weighting themselves down with gold and angering the people. Within a few weeks the entire city would be a rage, and then they would crush the whites no matter what the cost. Yes Xoctol smiled, it would work, it would have to work. He had slowly begun to unweave the intricate plan that would return freedom to the Aztecs.
Monday, August 18, 2008
I apologize to everyone whose been waiting for the next part, I didn't realize people read this
Chapter 8
The city was in state of confusion and disbelief when the news arrived. The
whites would arrive in less then a day and no one knew what would happen. Should they try and keep the city because they still out numbered the whites? Or should they let them in and hope they were only after the gold. Xoctol’s mind was set for a resistance. He was confident that the Jaguar warriors could hold their own against the whites, especially because they weren’t in an open battle. But he stood alone. Neither his father nor his sister agreed with him. They, like the emperor, were still awed by the destruction of the main body of troops. The emperor decided to act benevolently, at least until the strength of the whites was known. Xoctol sighed dolefully. He knew how truculent the whites were, and they wanted gold, glory, and blood. Letting them into the city would only bring destruction to the Aztecs.
Xoctol remained calm though, he had began to understand the whites and their
strategy in war. He began secretly trying to obtain metals to make their weapons. He also started to meet with his friends to begin a resistance group in case things went wrong.
By now, the whites had been at the city for three days, and things had started to go
wrong. They had set up in the emperor’s palace, which was the sturdiest place around and it had walls. The emperor had treated them graciously and given them provisions and gold, but that was only feeding wood to the flame. The whites had also began relations kindly, but they soon started to search ravenously after gold. Word was coming from all different parts of the city of dead bodies found in gold-stripped houses. And tempers had begun to flare between the Jaguar warriors and the whites. They were under the emperor’s command not to fight but they were becoming restless. The emperor had tried to calm the whites with more presents but they were just becoming crazed with greed.
The persecution continued but Xoctol tried to keep his mind off of it. His family
wasn’t rich and he was confident they would be one of the last ones to be robbed.
But one thing he really disliked was that he and Ahexotl had to take turns watching
Omecihuatl at the gold smithy to keep her safe. His father had continued to work in the gold smithy but he had given Xoctol time off. Few people were having anything made of gold because of the white’s greedy ways, and so his father and he switched on and off working in the shop alone or sometimes with Omecihuatl. They didn’t have much to do but Xoctol had thought of ways to use his time when it was his turn at the shop. The coming of the whites was a problem that needed to be solved. But so far it looked as though they would be able to survive the crisis.
Chapter 9
It had been a two week since the white’s arrival. Ahexotl was going to work in the shop that day, and it was his turn to watch Omecihuatl, so Xoctol was free to do
whatever he wanted.
Xoctol decided he should call a meeting with his resistance group. Most of them had tried to get in the army but were denied because of status, so they took the name the “Denied.” Xoctol counted five sets of one hand in the Denied. They had furtively been trying to hinder the whites in every way. But they needed to be very insidious. If they were caught they would be instantly killed. They weren’t professional soldiers and knew nothing of fighting. But Xoctol had been trying to change that. He had gotten one of the Jaguar warriors to begin to train them. The Jaguar warriors were also restless and would help in some ways though they doubted Xoctol’s resistance group could accomplish much. Xoctol watched the training with a determined eye, thinking about more ways they could hurt the notorious whites without being wiped out. After the training session Xoctol relayed his thoughts. They were discussed but nothing was decided. They made plans to meet again later then they broke up going one at a time to not cause a distraction. Xoctol headed off down the street through the brindled dark. The only sound on this becalmed night was his footsteps on the pavement. Everything had been going perfectly according to Xoctol’s plan. His soldiers had begun their training, and his creations at the shop were almost finished. He reached the door to his house and stepped inside, his father
Ahexotl would not yet be asleep so he yelled. But the only reply was his echo. He
frowned but shrugged it off and went up to his room for some sleep.
The city was in state of confusion and disbelief when the news arrived. The
whites would arrive in less then a day and no one knew what would happen. Should they try and keep the city because they still out numbered the whites? Or should they let them in and hope they were only after the gold. Xoctol’s mind was set for a resistance. He was confident that the Jaguar warriors could hold their own against the whites, especially because they weren’t in an open battle. But he stood alone. Neither his father nor his sister agreed with him. They, like the emperor, were still awed by the destruction of the main body of troops. The emperor decided to act benevolently, at least until the strength of the whites was known. Xoctol sighed dolefully. He knew how truculent the whites were, and they wanted gold, glory, and blood. Letting them into the city would only bring destruction to the Aztecs.
Xoctol remained calm though, he had began to understand the whites and their
strategy in war. He began secretly trying to obtain metals to make their weapons. He also started to meet with his friends to begin a resistance group in case things went wrong.
By now, the whites had been at the city for three days, and things had started to go
wrong. They had set up in the emperor’s palace, which was the sturdiest place around and it had walls. The emperor had treated them graciously and given them provisions and gold, but that was only feeding wood to the flame. The whites had also began relations kindly, but they soon started to search ravenously after gold. Word was coming from all different parts of the city of dead bodies found in gold-stripped houses. And tempers had begun to flare between the Jaguar warriors and the whites. They were under the emperor’s command not to fight but they were becoming restless. The emperor had tried to calm the whites with more presents but they were just becoming crazed with greed.
The persecution continued but Xoctol tried to keep his mind off of it. His family
wasn’t rich and he was confident they would be one of the last ones to be robbed.
But one thing he really disliked was that he and Ahexotl had to take turns watching
Omecihuatl at the gold smithy to keep her safe. His father had continued to work in the gold smithy but he had given Xoctol time off. Few people were having anything made of gold because of the white’s greedy ways, and so his father and he switched on and off working in the shop alone or sometimes with Omecihuatl. They didn’t have much to do but Xoctol had thought of ways to use his time when it was his turn at the shop. The coming of the whites was a problem that needed to be solved. But so far it looked as though they would be able to survive the crisis.
Chapter 9
It had been a two week since the white’s arrival. Ahexotl was going to work in the shop that day, and it was his turn to watch Omecihuatl, so Xoctol was free to do
whatever he wanted.
Xoctol decided he should call a meeting with his resistance group. Most of them had tried to get in the army but were denied because of status, so they took the name the “Denied.” Xoctol counted five sets of one hand in the Denied. They had furtively been trying to hinder the whites in every way. But they needed to be very insidious. If they were caught they would be instantly killed. They weren’t professional soldiers and knew nothing of fighting. But Xoctol had been trying to change that. He had gotten one of the Jaguar warriors to begin to train them. The Jaguar warriors were also restless and would help in some ways though they doubted Xoctol’s resistance group could accomplish much. Xoctol watched the training with a determined eye, thinking about more ways they could hurt the notorious whites without being wiped out. After the training session Xoctol relayed his thoughts. They were discussed but nothing was decided. They made plans to meet again later then they broke up going one at a time to not cause a distraction. Xoctol headed off down the street through the brindled dark. The only sound on this becalmed night was his footsteps on the pavement. Everything had been going perfectly according to Xoctol’s plan. His soldiers had begun their training, and his creations at the shop were almost finished. He reached the door to his house and stepped inside, his father
Ahexotl would not yet be asleep so he yelled. But the only reply was his echo. He
frowned but shrugged it off and went up to his room for some sleep.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Part 3 of Xoctol
Chapter 6
The moon was slowly rising in the sky as Xoctol crept out of bed. He was
careful to not wake his father or sister down the hall as he put on his clothes. He
then reached for another pair, and put the extra pair into a bundle. He grabbed his
bow then went downstairs. He added some food to the bundle then ran out the door. The
blast of cold air choked him for a minute, but he recovered himself and loked at his
surroundings. The dew from the night’s rain had made a puddle by the door. He looked
into it and smiled at his brawny frame. His years in the gold smith shop had toned
his body, but the smile quickly vanished when he heard a sound. He crept back into
the doorway and waited tensely, like an eagle about to strike. But he was relieved to
find it was only a merchant getting a head start on his competitors. Xoctol ran out
of the doorway and went off down the street. He went quickly, wanting to be far out
of sight before the city awoke. He planned on finding the field on which the whites
and Aztecs would battle on in the morning. He wanted to hide in the woods nearby and
possibly in the confusion join in the “slaughter.” Xoctol ran all that night under
the moon searching for the battleground, and just before dawn he found it. He
searched for a safe spot to rest for the few hours before daylight. He was exhausted
at the rigorous running but he was defiant in his will to at least see the battle.
There were some trees at the apex of a hill, with perfect view of the battle. It was
right on the side so if he wanted he could slip off in to the woods and chase some
whites, and nearby was a stream if he was thirsty. He settled down under some bushes
not caring about secrecy. But as he was falling into a deep sleep, he heard the sound
of voices nearby. He slowly got up, his head heavy with sleep and looked about him
searching for the disturber. He was terrified to spot some white men waling just a
few jaguar leaps away. Keeping his senses he crept into the underbrush trying to stay
hidden as best he could. He couldn’t hear the voices clearly but caught brief
sentences. They seemed to be talking about some location. He heard phrases like,
“this would be perfect,” “and they will never expect it.” Xoctol didn’t know what
these phrases meant, but he did know if they came nearer he would be spotted
instantly. He held his breath as he prayed to his gods. He was frightened at the
strange weapons they carried. They seemed to be long metal sticks but he could
observe the sharpness as he saw them cut through the sturdy vines like fruit. The
Aztec’s weapons were simply branches from a sturdy tree and sharpened. He began to
have doubts about the easiness of the battle. But he watched gratefully as they went
off through the woods. He quickly ran away into some more dense underbrush, and
settled down for more sleep.
The darkness faded as the sun rose claiming the sky once again. Xoctol rose to
hear the yelling of soldiers down in the valley. He got up and went to the stream
nearby to refresh himself. He dipped his fingers and feet into the oozing mud at the
bottom feeling the coolness of it, but the increasing din in the valley brought him
back to the situation at hand. He put water on his face waking himself up fully, then
collected his bow and ran off into the woods. He was reassured with the Aztec’s
chances when he saw the overwhelming numbers of his countrymen. The Aztec line
stretched all the way across the valley. The shouts of the Aztec leaders could be
heard all the way up the hill, but the white’s line was strangely silent as if they
were waiting for something. The Aztecs pulled out their weapons and put on their
armor then watched the whites, daring them to charge. But the whites still stood
watching, waiting. The Aztecs could no longer wait and with a cry they charged. The
sound of a million men echoed throughout the valley, but the whites still stood
waiting. Then a shout was heard, the whites raised their weapons, Xoctol watched
curiously as the whites put their odd swords to their shoulders. Then a huge
explosion sounded and smoke filled the air. Xoctol fell to the ground with shock, and
then rose again. He waited confused for the smoke to clear. There was chaos
among the men in the valley as the Aztecs ran into each other in the smoke, and
attacked each other not being able to determine enemy or friend. When the smoke
finally cleared Xoctol couldn’t believe it when he saw entire lines of the Aztecs
dead on the ground, while the whites stood unscathed. What was this witchcraft Xoctol
wondered. But Xoctol knew they couldn’t keep that up forever and sooner or later the
Aztecs would reach the white’s line. Xoctol stood up deciding now would be his best
time to join the battle. Then suddenly, he heard voices behind him. He searched the
hill and saw the vague outline of some white men hidden in the bushes holding their
ears near a huge hollowed out stump. Xoctol crept closer using his withy body trying
to stay hidden. He suddenly realized it was strange for tree to be pointed straight
out like that, when a piercing roar erupted from the tree. Thunder claps echoed down
the plain. Xoctol fell to ground, life was over, the gods must be coming to claim
back the earth he thought. He put his head on the ground trying to hide but he knew
it was useless, and he rubbed his dirty face with anguish. A powerful gust of wind
from the tree swept his head around. He looked down in the valley expecting to see it
empty of live bodies. But to his horror only the Aztecs were dead, the whites stood
unopposed. The few Aztecs who survived were shot dead with a final volley from the
white’s terrible weapons. What was this metal witchcraft, Xoctol wondered? He slowly
recovered his senses watching the whites celebrate, the sight of all his comrades
dead was too much for him. Xoctol crept off carrying his bow, stunned, bereaved, and
defeated.
Chapter 7
A slow rain broke out over the forest as Xoctol stumbled on. He was in a
daze from the events from yesterday. They still were affecting his mind as he went
forward through the woods back toward the city. The cries of the Aztecs, the
explosion of the metal witchcraft, and the destruction of his country men was
becoming too painful for him to consider. The exultancy of the Spanish was not yet
inaudible and Xoctol listened with anger. He faltered on, slowly regaining his senses
and wit, but he was exhausted and after blundering on for an hour he fell to the
ground, too tired to care about the wet soil. He fell asleep. The slow but steady
rain collected as Xoctol slept, but as the sun was creeping over the hills, he rolled
right into a puddle. He awoke suddenly from the cold wetness. He rose and with the
good night’s rest Xoctol was now at full strength, and with his mind rallied he
hurried off toward the city.
The moon was slowly rising in the sky as Xoctol crept out of bed. He was
careful to not wake his father or sister down the hall as he put on his clothes. He
then reached for another pair, and put the extra pair into a bundle. He grabbed his
bow then went downstairs. He added some food to the bundle then ran out the door. The
blast of cold air choked him for a minute, but he recovered himself and loked at his
surroundings. The dew from the night’s rain had made a puddle by the door. He looked
into it and smiled at his brawny frame. His years in the gold smith shop had toned
his body, but the smile quickly vanished when he heard a sound. He crept back into
the doorway and waited tensely, like an eagle about to strike. But he was relieved to
find it was only a merchant getting a head start on his competitors. Xoctol ran out
of the doorway and went off down the street. He went quickly, wanting to be far out
of sight before the city awoke. He planned on finding the field on which the whites
and Aztecs would battle on in the morning. He wanted to hide in the woods nearby and
possibly in the confusion join in the “slaughter.” Xoctol ran all that night under
the moon searching for the battleground, and just before dawn he found it. He
searched for a safe spot to rest for the few hours before daylight. He was exhausted
at the rigorous running but he was defiant in his will to at least see the battle.
There were some trees at the apex of a hill, with perfect view of the battle. It was
right on the side so if he wanted he could slip off in to the woods and chase some
whites, and nearby was a stream if he was thirsty. He settled down under some bushes
not caring about secrecy. But as he was falling into a deep sleep, he heard the sound
of voices nearby. He slowly got up, his head heavy with sleep and looked about him
searching for the disturber. He was terrified to spot some white men waling just a
few jaguar leaps away. Keeping his senses he crept into the underbrush trying to stay
hidden as best he could. He couldn’t hear the voices clearly but caught brief
sentences. They seemed to be talking about some location. He heard phrases like,
“this would be perfect,” “and they will never expect it.” Xoctol didn’t know what
these phrases meant, but he did know if they came nearer he would be spotted
instantly. He held his breath as he prayed to his gods. He was frightened at the
strange weapons they carried. They seemed to be long metal sticks but he could
observe the sharpness as he saw them cut through the sturdy vines like fruit. The
Aztec’s weapons were simply branches from a sturdy tree and sharpened. He began to
have doubts about the easiness of the battle. But he watched gratefully as they went
off through the woods. He quickly ran away into some more dense underbrush, and
settled down for more sleep.
The darkness faded as the sun rose claiming the sky once again. Xoctol rose to
hear the yelling of soldiers down in the valley. He got up and went to the stream
nearby to refresh himself. He dipped his fingers and feet into the oozing mud at the
bottom feeling the coolness of it, but the increasing din in the valley brought him
back to the situation at hand. He put water on his face waking himself up fully, then
collected his bow and ran off into the woods. He was reassured with the Aztec’s
chances when he saw the overwhelming numbers of his countrymen. The Aztec line
stretched all the way across the valley. The shouts of the Aztec leaders could be
heard all the way up the hill, but the white’s line was strangely silent as if they
were waiting for something. The Aztecs pulled out their weapons and put on their
armor then watched the whites, daring them to charge. But the whites still stood
watching, waiting. The Aztecs could no longer wait and with a cry they charged. The
sound of a million men echoed throughout the valley, but the whites still stood
waiting. Then a shout was heard, the whites raised their weapons, Xoctol watched
curiously as the whites put their odd swords to their shoulders. Then a huge
explosion sounded and smoke filled the air. Xoctol fell to the ground with shock, and
then rose again. He waited confused for the smoke to clear. There was chaos
among the men in the valley as the Aztecs ran into each other in the smoke, and
attacked each other not being able to determine enemy or friend. When the smoke
finally cleared Xoctol couldn’t believe it when he saw entire lines of the Aztecs
dead on the ground, while the whites stood unscathed. What was this witchcraft Xoctol
wondered. But Xoctol knew they couldn’t keep that up forever and sooner or later the
Aztecs would reach the white’s line. Xoctol stood up deciding now would be his best
time to join the battle. Then suddenly, he heard voices behind him. He searched the
hill and saw the vague outline of some white men hidden in the bushes holding their
ears near a huge hollowed out stump. Xoctol crept closer using his withy body trying
to stay hidden. He suddenly realized it was strange for tree to be pointed straight
out like that, when a piercing roar erupted from the tree. Thunder claps echoed down
the plain. Xoctol fell to ground, life was over, the gods must be coming to claim
back the earth he thought. He put his head on the ground trying to hide but he knew
it was useless, and he rubbed his dirty face with anguish. A powerful gust of wind
from the tree swept his head around. He looked down in the valley expecting to see it
empty of live bodies. But to his horror only the Aztecs were dead, the whites stood
unopposed. The few Aztecs who survived were shot dead with a final volley from the
white’s terrible weapons. What was this metal witchcraft, Xoctol wondered? He slowly
recovered his senses watching the whites celebrate, the sight of all his comrades
dead was too much for him. Xoctol crept off carrying his bow, stunned, bereaved, and
defeated.
Chapter 7
A slow rain broke out over the forest as Xoctol stumbled on. He was in a
daze from the events from yesterday. They still were affecting his mind as he went
forward through the woods back toward the city. The cries of the Aztecs, the
explosion of the metal witchcraft, and the destruction of his country men was
becoming too painful for him to consider. The exultancy of the Spanish was not yet
inaudible and Xoctol listened with anger. He faltered on, slowly regaining his senses
and wit, but he was exhausted and after blundering on for an hour he fell to the
ground, too tired to care about the wet soil. He fell asleep. The slow but steady
rain collected as Xoctol slept, but as the sun was creeping over the hills, he rolled
right into a puddle. He awoke suddenly from the cold wetness. He rose and with the
good night’s rest Xoctol was now at full strength, and with his mind rallied he
hurried off toward the city.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Part 2 of Xoctol
Chapter 3
For two hours Xoctol had already been working. The raucous sound of hammer against metal was gradually bringing the churning thoughts of yesterday’s activities out of his mind. He continued with his work diligently, trying to keep his mind off the bugs.
He tried to think about things he was looking forward to, like maybe practicing with his bow later with one of his many friends. He’d had the bow since he was a child, but it had been too big before. Now it was finally his size and he enjoyed his time with it. Bow’s were very rare with the Aztecs; most men used swords or spears. But he regretfully stopped daydreaming with a grunt for the noise in the street he could no longer ignore.
He reluctantly placed his hammer down and lifted the flap to see what had happened. He saw a large group of people arguing about something. He went closer to learn some more information and was surprised to hear them mention the white prisoner of the day before.
It seemed one of the people in the crowd was one of the guards of the white prisoner. He had spoken to the guard and told him of his homeland. Apparently there were thousands of white men less then a hundred miles away. And then farther away were millions of white men living on an entire continent. If he died he would soon be revenged he said.
These words filled the crowd with fear, but Xoctol knew better. He had seen the powerful army of the Aztecs and he wasn’t afraid. But it was a surprise for him, because he suddenly realized, the Aztecs were alone.
Chapter 4
The guard was right. Xoctol woke up to see his father rushing out the door. He asked him what had happened and was shocked to find that an army of white men had been sighted. They were still miles and miles away but Aztec runners had brought the
news in last night. The emperor tried to keep it a secret, but his father had heard the news
when he was delivering one of his gold products to a noble man. Xoctol rushed to get
dressed and ran outside undecided about what to do. He decided to check the streets to see if any new information had been discovered. He knew that as soon as one of the servants heard something, they would immediately spread the word to the streets, so it sounded like the best place to start. He was rewarded by sighting a crowd just a little farther down the road. He went nearer and heard the bad news about the rate at which the whites were coming. He learned that they are marching nonstop. At this rate, they would arrive in a week. The leaders were trying to keep it hidden but everyone knew that the Aztec army was preparing for warfare. They had begun training and messages had been sent out to the surrounding cities collecting men. While the Aztec generals were hard at work trying to determine whether to stay put and defend the city, or to take the offensive and attack the whites, Xoctol was confident that no matter which one was chosen, the Aztecs would win. After all there were rumors that there were only a few thousand whites, while the Aztecs could get an army of over one million. Yes the people’s fear isfoolish.
Chapter 5
A week had passed since Xoctol had laughed at the talk of the people. And life had drastically changed. The whites were pushing on with great avidity at the rumors of immense amounts of treasure. They were only a day’s journey away but the Aztec army was ready to fight. The priests had predicted a quick battle and the whites being utterly crushed. The emperor, confident of success decided to take the offensive and meet the whites out in the open. The army marched out with all of its grandeur. Xoctol glowed with anger at the memory of the soldier trainer’s response to his plea of joining the army.
The trainer had dismissed him with out even a word. Xoctol had been humiliated, but he wasn’t going to helplessly wait at the city. He was busy scheming a plan as he watched the queues of men walk by.
Husbands bidding goodbye to families, and promising a quick return. The noble soldiers led the procession in their finery, and the rest of the army followed arrayed in cotton armor and carrying impressive swords. The flags of the various cities were held high by their prestigious armies. And they strode out with the chiefs urging them on to make a better show for the people at the city. The emperor had not sent his entire army though. He being so confident of the advice of the priests, had left some of his best and most valiant soldiers at the city, the Jaguar warriors. Believing it to be a quick battle he wanted to keep them fresh for more pressing matters. Xoctol watched the army, but he was not only watching. A circumvention in his mind slowly began to form as the army faded into the distance.
For two hours Xoctol had already been working. The raucous sound of hammer against metal was gradually bringing the churning thoughts of yesterday’s activities out of his mind. He continued with his work diligently, trying to keep his mind off the bugs.
He tried to think about things he was looking forward to, like maybe practicing with his bow later with one of his many friends. He’d had the bow since he was a child, but it had been too big before. Now it was finally his size and he enjoyed his time with it. Bow’s were very rare with the Aztecs; most men used swords or spears. But he regretfully stopped daydreaming with a grunt for the noise in the street he could no longer ignore.
He reluctantly placed his hammer down and lifted the flap to see what had happened. He saw a large group of people arguing about something. He went closer to learn some more information and was surprised to hear them mention the white prisoner of the day before.
It seemed one of the people in the crowd was one of the guards of the white prisoner. He had spoken to the guard and told him of his homeland. Apparently there were thousands of white men less then a hundred miles away. And then farther away were millions of white men living on an entire continent. If he died he would soon be revenged he said.
These words filled the crowd with fear, but Xoctol knew better. He had seen the powerful army of the Aztecs and he wasn’t afraid. But it was a surprise for him, because he suddenly realized, the Aztecs were alone.
Chapter 4
The guard was right. Xoctol woke up to see his father rushing out the door. He asked him what had happened and was shocked to find that an army of white men had been sighted. They were still miles and miles away but Aztec runners had brought the
news in last night. The emperor tried to keep it a secret, but his father had heard the news
when he was delivering one of his gold products to a noble man. Xoctol rushed to get
dressed and ran outside undecided about what to do. He decided to check the streets to see if any new information had been discovered. He knew that as soon as one of the servants heard something, they would immediately spread the word to the streets, so it sounded like the best place to start. He was rewarded by sighting a crowd just a little farther down the road. He went nearer and heard the bad news about the rate at which the whites were coming. He learned that they are marching nonstop. At this rate, they would arrive in a week. The leaders were trying to keep it hidden but everyone knew that the Aztec army was preparing for warfare. They had begun training and messages had been sent out to the surrounding cities collecting men. While the Aztec generals were hard at work trying to determine whether to stay put and defend the city, or to take the offensive and attack the whites, Xoctol was confident that no matter which one was chosen, the Aztecs would win. After all there were rumors that there were only a few thousand whites, while the Aztecs could get an army of over one million. Yes the people’s fear isfoolish.
Chapter 5
A week had passed since Xoctol had laughed at the talk of the people. And life had drastically changed. The whites were pushing on with great avidity at the rumors of immense amounts of treasure. They were only a day’s journey away but the Aztec army was ready to fight. The priests had predicted a quick battle and the whites being utterly crushed. The emperor, confident of success decided to take the offensive and meet the whites out in the open. The army marched out with all of its grandeur. Xoctol glowed with anger at the memory of the soldier trainer’s response to his plea of joining the army.
The trainer had dismissed him with out even a word. Xoctol had been humiliated, but he wasn’t going to helplessly wait at the city. He was busy scheming a plan as he watched the queues of men walk by.
Husbands bidding goodbye to families, and promising a quick return. The noble soldiers led the procession in their finery, and the rest of the army followed arrayed in cotton armor and carrying impressive swords. The flags of the various cities were held high by their prestigious armies. And they strode out with the chiefs urging them on to make a better show for the people at the city. The emperor had not sent his entire army though. He being so confident of the advice of the priests, had left some of his best and most valiant soldiers at the city, the Jaguar warriors. Believing it to be a quick battle he wanted to keep them fresh for more pressing matters. Xoctol watched the army, but he was not only watching. A circumvention in his mind slowly began to form as the army faded into the distance.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Xoctol
Chapter 1
“I am going to be a warrior Mama,” five-year-old Xocotl (zoc’tol) asserted. “Yes,
Xocotl, you are my little warrior, but you will always be my little boy,” Chiuacoatl said. Xocotl sat for a minute in pensive thought, then replied, “But can you be a warrior and a little boy?” Cihuacoatl (chee-wa-co’-tol) laughed, “of course and you can think about that while you sleep,” She said cajolingly.
It had been eleven years since that day, and Xocotl was almost a man. But he had
been forced to accept his rank in the working class instead of pursuing his dream of be coming a soldier. The sun beat down ruthlessly that day. Xocotl sweated like a jaguar that had fallen into the lake surrounding his home city of Tenochtitlan. He was proud of the fact that he lived in the capital city of this powerful country, and proud to be an Aztec. But he felt captured being stuck in his father, Ahexotl’s (ah-hec’-tol) gold-smith shop everyday.
He had the arduous job of beating down the gold for his father to shape. The steady sound of his hammer striking the gold echoed throughout the shop. But he stopped when the flap covering the door opened to reveal his little sister Omecihuatl (o-mec-i-hwa’-tol). Xocotl’s face stolid from the hard work tried to ignore his blissful sister. But the contrasting change of dress from her usual clothes caught his attention. She had her best dress on decorated with vermilion cloth, and brocade. She said gleefully, “have you forgotten about the festival today?” Of course I haven’t forgotten Xocotl thought, it’s the biggest celebration of the year. But he only replied, “No, but you shouldn’t be here, this is no place for a little girl.” She strutted out indignantly, which made Xocotl feel guilty as
he started to hammer again. He knew on such a day as today she would forget it in a little while, or he could just get her some treat to cheer her up. He put the finished piece of gold in the puncheon, and then put the hammer away in the spot
that his dad had taught him. He knew he wouldn’t be working again today because of
the festival, so he and his dad could have the rest of the day off. He finished cleaning the gold smithy then rushed home.
He rushed to his room to find his best clothes. But as soon as he saw the door ajar
he knew something was wrong. He always shut the door behind him. He entered to find
his room a mess. And in the corner sat Zigwe (zig’-wee), the family dog. He stared at him angrily. Normally Xocotl would have yelled at him but today that seemed
inconsequential. He pointed ominously and pushed the dog out the door. He cleaned the mess as quick as he could and then changed and rushed out the door, desperate to arrive on time. He mentally thanked the god Quetzalcoatl (kwet-sull-co’-tol) that his mother had gone to visit her family in a remote part of the city so he didn’t
have to worry about a scolding for being late. Then he ran to the site of the festival.
The streets were empty because everyone had already gone on, so he ran as fast as
he could. The wind blew against his face and he felt like he was flying. He watched the scenery around him, and looked pride fully at the beautiful surroundings of his country. The wide straight streets, the tall golden buildings. and in the background the immense glorious temples. He smiled admiringly. It was the Aztecs, his people who had made all this. He wondered, could any be as glorious and powerful as them?
Chapter 2
The elaborate, clamorous festival was more then Xoctol could have ever hoped.
The detail in every area of the festival showed the Aztec’s pride and glory at their zenith of power. The temples seemed to be made of an iridescent gold with the sun beaming down on them. But after all this wasn’t just any quaint party, this was the grandest festival of the whole year. People flocked from miles around because of the two main attractions. First the emperor Montezuma himself was coming and second, the glorious sacrifice of one of the captured men from around the nation. Truly this would bring glory to the gods.
He searched the crowd for his father and sister. He knew it would be folly to try yelling over this raucous crowd so filled with excitement. He decided to back up one of the streets to try and get a better view. His search soon ended when he spotted them walking up the street. Obviously he wasn’t the only one late. He rushed toward them with dexterity, weaving his way through the crowd. He soon reached them and together they hurried toward the temple for the best view. At that moment the tumult of the emperor’s trumpets erupted. The parade showing all of the emperor’s majesty walked down the paved street. Xoctol watched jealously at all the servants and gold. Then his eyes lit up when he spotted Mayauel (may-owl’). He had gapped at her beauty ever since he had seen her as a little child. She appeared to be around his age but he sighed because he knew she would never notice him. The parade continued fading in beauty as she continued down the road. The king’s favored were next and they followed looking with contempt upon the crowd. The reluctant people made way for the nobility who stared ahead with sullen faces. The coins thrown out by the king, quickly changed their expressions from petulant to glee.
The drums sounded to announce the beginning of the entertainment. The vigorous noise ceased as all eyes looked forward to not miss a second of the spectacle. A mystic hush fell over the crowd as the silhouetted figure of the high priest appeared at the top of the temple. Everyone watched as the doors to a nearby prison opened to reveal two of the famed jaguar warriors guarding a hooded prisoner. They led him slowly up the steps to the top. A slow chant began among the citizens getting louder and louder, as the thrill ofthe moment filled the cold hearts of the Aztecs. The high priest grabbed the prisoner and turned him toward the crowd. The chant grew to a scream as the people gathered, jumped and raised their voices trying to bring praise to the bloodthirsty gods of the Aztecs. The high priest grabbed the mask of the prisoner and tore it off. The awestruck people fell silent. The crowd gasped as the now revealed face of the man, was white.
They were stunned when they saw the first white man ever to reach the city of the
Jaguar. He stared resolutely out at the crowd, but recovering themselves they stared back in no cordial manner. The high priest led him over to the alter and raised his knife, the chant began again as the devoted people cried out to the war god to give them success and victory. The truculent priest raised his knife and then brought it down again with all his heartless strength.
“I am going to be a warrior Mama,” five-year-old Xocotl (zoc’tol) asserted. “Yes,
Xocotl, you are my little warrior, but you will always be my little boy,” Chiuacoatl said. Xocotl sat for a minute in pensive thought, then replied, “But can you be a warrior and a little boy?” Cihuacoatl (chee-wa-co’-tol) laughed, “of course and you can think about that while you sleep,” She said cajolingly.
It had been eleven years since that day, and Xocotl was almost a man. But he had
been forced to accept his rank in the working class instead of pursuing his dream of be coming a soldier. The sun beat down ruthlessly that day. Xocotl sweated like a jaguar that had fallen into the lake surrounding his home city of Tenochtitlan. He was proud of the fact that he lived in the capital city of this powerful country, and proud to be an Aztec. But he felt captured being stuck in his father, Ahexotl’s (ah-hec’-tol) gold-smith shop everyday.
He had the arduous job of beating down the gold for his father to shape. The steady sound of his hammer striking the gold echoed throughout the shop. But he stopped when the flap covering the door opened to reveal his little sister Omecihuatl (o-mec-i-hwa’-tol). Xocotl’s face stolid from the hard work tried to ignore his blissful sister. But the contrasting change of dress from her usual clothes caught his attention. She had her best dress on decorated with vermilion cloth, and brocade. She said gleefully, “have you forgotten about the festival today?” Of course I haven’t forgotten Xocotl thought, it’s the biggest celebration of the year. But he only replied, “No, but you shouldn’t be here, this is no place for a little girl.” She strutted out indignantly, which made Xocotl feel guilty as
he started to hammer again. He knew on such a day as today she would forget it in a little while, or he could just get her some treat to cheer her up. He put the finished piece of gold in the puncheon, and then put the hammer away in the spot
that his dad had taught him. He knew he wouldn’t be working again today because of
the festival, so he and his dad could have the rest of the day off. He finished cleaning the gold smithy then rushed home.
He rushed to his room to find his best clothes. But as soon as he saw the door ajar
he knew something was wrong. He always shut the door behind him. He entered to find
his room a mess. And in the corner sat Zigwe (zig’-wee), the family dog. He stared at him angrily. Normally Xocotl would have yelled at him but today that seemed
inconsequential. He pointed ominously and pushed the dog out the door. He cleaned the mess as quick as he could and then changed and rushed out the door, desperate to arrive on time. He mentally thanked the god Quetzalcoatl (kwet-sull-co’-tol) that his mother had gone to visit her family in a remote part of the city so he didn’t
have to worry about a scolding for being late. Then he ran to the site of the festival.
The streets were empty because everyone had already gone on, so he ran as fast as
he could. The wind blew against his face and he felt like he was flying. He watched the scenery around him, and looked pride fully at the beautiful surroundings of his country. The wide straight streets, the tall golden buildings. and in the background the immense glorious temples. He smiled admiringly. It was the Aztecs, his people who had made all this. He wondered, could any be as glorious and powerful as them?
Chapter 2
The elaborate, clamorous festival was more then Xoctol could have ever hoped.
The detail in every area of the festival showed the Aztec’s pride and glory at their zenith of power. The temples seemed to be made of an iridescent gold with the sun beaming down on them. But after all this wasn’t just any quaint party, this was the grandest festival of the whole year. People flocked from miles around because of the two main attractions. First the emperor Montezuma himself was coming and second, the glorious sacrifice of one of the captured men from around the nation. Truly this would bring glory to the gods.
He searched the crowd for his father and sister. He knew it would be folly to try yelling over this raucous crowd so filled with excitement. He decided to back up one of the streets to try and get a better view. His search soon ended when he spotted them walking up the street. Obviously he wasn’t the only one late. He rushed toward them with dexterity, weaving his way through the crowd. He soon reached them and together they hurried toward the temple for the best view. At that moment the tumult of the emperor’s trumpets erupted. The parade showing all of the emperor’s majesty walked down the paved street. Xoctol watched jealously at all the servants and gold. Then his eyes lit up when he spotted Mayauel (may-owl’). He had gapped at her beauty ever since he had seen her as a little child. She appeared to be around his age but he sighed because he knew she would never notice him. The parade continued fading in beauty as she continued down the road. The king’s favored were next and they followed looking with contempt upon the crowd. The reluctant people made way for the nobility who stared ahead with sullen faces. The coins thrown out by the king, quickly changed their expressions from petulant to glee.
The drums sounded to announce the beginning of the entertainment. The vigorous noise ceased as all eyes looked forward to not miss a second of the spectacle. A mystic hush fell over the crowd as the silhouetted figure of the high priest appeared at the top of the temple. Everyone watched as the doors to a nearby prison opened to reveal two of the famed jaguar warriors guarding a hooded prisoner. They led him slowly up the steps to the top. A slow chant began among the citizens getting louder and louder, as the thrill ofthe moment filled the cold hearts of the Aztecs. The high priest grabbed the prisoner and turned him toward the crowd. The chant grew to a scream as the people gathered, jumped and raised their voices trying to bring praise to the bloodthirsty gods of the Aztecs. The high priest grabbed the mask of the prisoner and tore it off. The awestruck people fell silent. The crowd gasped as the now revealed face of the man, was white.
They were stunned when they saw the first white man ever to reach the city of the
Jaguar. He stared resolutely out at the crowd, but recovering themselves they stared back in no cordial manner. The high priest led him over to the alter and raised his knife, the chant began again as the devoted people cried out to the war god to give them success and victory. The truculent priest raised his knife and then brought it down again with all his heartless strength.
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