Blood & Fur

Chapter Twenty-One: Dangerous Women

I thought over Chikal’s words with unblinking eyes, and then answered, “Go ahead.”

Chikal applied more pressure, her expression once more a blank mask that let none of her true emotions shine through. While she considered my answer, I glanced briefly at our audience. Tezozomoc and the others were far away enough that they wouldn't understand us if we kept our voices low, but we were in the open. I couldn’t use the Veil without also affecting Chikal, not to mention the risks of discovery, and the wind…

The wind.

“Let our secrets go unheard,” I muttered under my breath, “and I shall feed you well tonight.”

A breeze suddenly blew in my face, drowning my breath with its whistle. The Yaotzin had accepted the covenant… or so I hoped.

Chikal frowned at me. “What did you–”

“Go ahead,” I repeated, keeping my voice as low as possible. Just in case. “Accuse me without any proof. See if the Nightlords believe you. See if they care. They want this war as much as I do.”

“Then why did that half-man Tlacaelel so fervently try to dissuade you?” Chikal glared at me. At least she had the decency to lower her tone enough that I struggled to hear her myself. “How convenient that he perished on your assassination attempt’s eve too…”

“Is it my fault he couldn’t tell up from down?” I shrugged. “Your efforts will be for naught.”

I was bluffing, of course. I doubted the Nightlords would believe Chikal, but it might increase their suspicions and make my work unfathomably more difficult. I needed to remain beneath notice as much as possible.

“All you will succeed in doing is making an enemy of me,” I said. That much was true. “And you don’t want that.”

“I see you fight better with words than with weapons,” Chikal replied with scorn. “Both pale before what the Nightlords can do to the two of us.”

“So you will sell me out to them the way you treacherously betrayed your sister city of Balam?” Chikal visibly flinched at my words, her confidence briefly shaken. I smiled and pushed my advantage. “How did that work out for you? Oh yes, your loyalty was repaid with a forced marriage, an eventual sacrifice, and your people’s enslavement.”

Chikal’s grip on her training stick tightened so much that the wood cracked under the pressure. “You know nothing, male.” She made the last word sound like an insult, which it probably was for her. “I did what I had to do as queen of Chilam to protect my people. The Nightlords would have exterminated us otherwise.”

I had stepped on the root of the problem. Fear. She feared the Nightlords more than anything. Would her hatred of them prove stronger, I wondered?

“You too fight better with words than weapons then,” I mocked her back. “I didn’t take amazons for cowards, let alone their queen.”

Chikal’s eyes flared with anger. “You forget your place, puppet emperor.”

“No, queen of nothing, you have.” I held her gaze with contempt. “The Nightlords might pull my strings, but I still possess more power than you ever will.”

When weak, project strength, the breeze whispered. When strong, hide it.

If she wanted to threaten me, then the two of us could play the same game.

“If you try anything against me, I will have your people wiped out from the face of this earth,” I warned her. “The Nightlords asked me to gather ten thousand tributes in a few months’ time. A word from me, a single word, and your city will pay that price. Soldiers will raze it to the ground, vampires will feast on its people, and the priests will erase it from history. Chilam will never have existed.”

Chikal became livid, her anger and contempt briefly replaced with a hint of fear. “You wouldn’t dare…”

I scoffed. “I’ve started a war with a million-strong empire, but you think I will hesitate to slay a few thousand lives? Do you think the Nightlords would hesitate? They don't care where the blood comes from, so long as it flows.”

“You will never have the chance,” Chikal replied with a scowl. “A single strike from me, right now, and your life comes to an end.”

“Do your worst,” I replied, calmly calling her bluff. “I stabbed my own heart on the very first day of my tenure in an act of defiance, and the Nightlords still brought me back. You will fail to put me into the ground, and you will pay the price for your foolishness.”

Chikal said nothing as she observed me closely. I knew my words had hit her right in the heart. The fact she hadn’t yet delivered a killing blow was proof enough of it.

“You are not lying,” she said. Was that a hint of respect I detected in her voice? “You truly did try to spite them on your first day…”

“I did,” I confirmed. “You think currying favor with the Nightlords will make them grateful to you, or you hold hope servitude will ease your people’s burden? You’re wrong. Vampires feel no gratitude, only hunger. They devour the loyal and the treacherous alike. They do not deserve our adoration, let alone our respect.”

Yoloxochitl had massacred loyal guards in a fit of madness, and her sisters did not even comment about Tlacaelel’s death, even after he served them all his life.

“We agree on the last part at least,” Chikal conceded. “And yet, here we are.”

“For now,” I replied evasively, my eyes wandering to Tezozomoc and the guards. “Let me go now, before they grow suspicious.”

After a short silence, Chikal released her weapon’s hold on my throat, rose back to her feet… and offered me her hand to rise up again. I accepted it. Her grip was strong, almost enough to crush my hand.

“You fought well, Lord Emperor, but your defense is lacking,” Chikal declared loudly, albeit more for the sake of our audience than mine. “We shall assess your footwork and shield work next.”

“As you wish.” I hesitated a moment as she stepped away before calling her by name. “Chikal.”

The amazon queen looked over her shoulder, her face once again unreadable.

“I could have easily sacrificed your city to the Nightlords and called it a day,” I pointed out. “Consider why I did not.”

Chikal nodded sharply, then barked out orders. A minute later, Tezozomoc helped me trade my stick for a rounded wood shield reinforced with deer skin and feathers.

“While it is not my place to question Your Imperial Majesty…” My advisor cleared his throat. “Is there something wrong with Lady Chikal? I was starting to worry for your safety.”

It took all my resolve and self-control to hide my fear under a mask of serene boredom. “What did you overhear?”

I prayed he hadn’t heard much. If he had overheard anything sensitive… if he did, I would have to kill him swiftly. Yet another assassination would carry tremendous risks of discovery, even if successful.

“Not much, the wind being strong as it is,” Tezozomoc replied. “But if I understood correctly… you threatened to have her home pay the goddesses’ tribute.”

Whether above and below, the salted seas are made of tears, the wind taunted me.

Of course. They didn’t call the fickle Yaotzin the enemy of both sides for nothing. The treacherous wind had let just enough information slip away to foster discord without implicating me directly.

“I put her in her place,” I replied bluntly, which was technically true. “Chikal still thinks of herself as an amazon queen. Serving a man does not come easily to her.”

“Ah, of course. I had feared something like this would happen. Her empty pride cannot stand that Your Majesty overshadows her.” Tezozomoc nodded to himself. “If I may, why did Your Imperial Majesty simply whisper threats instead of uttering them out loud. No one will blame you for chastising your consort in public.”

Damn it, he had grown a little suspicious. “Have you met Mother Yoloxochitl?”

“I’ve had the pleasure, yes. She loves Your Divine Majesty like a son.”

“Like all good mothers, she is protective of her adopted children.” The very sentence left a bitter taste in my throat. “If word of this reaches her… I fear she will worry too much and punish Chikal severely when a private remark would make her come around just as well.”

Tezozomoc glanced at my new guards. He knew all too well what had happened to their predecessors. “Understandable,” he said. “Though I believe your concerns are unwarranted. Lady Chikal is under Lady Sugey’s protection. The sisters do not wage war on one another.”

“I hope the goddesses are wiser than us men,” I lied through my teeth. “But nonetheless, I would rather that this matter stays between us. We can hardly afford division for now.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.” Tezozomoc did not insist any further and vacated the field as we started a new training drill. Three amazons armed with sticks attacked me from all sides while Chikal watched from afar.

Their interaction proved enlightening. Chikal was… well, still a warrior-queen at heart. The way the amazons looked at me differently after I showcased better physical prowess than expected spoke volumes about their culture. They respected strength and despised weakness. I wondered how much of this bout had been a genuine attempt at intimidation, or Chikal just testing the waters.

Either way, standing my ground had been the right decision. My words might have been harsh, but they garnered some respect. Would it be enough to make my consort an ally though?

A blow against my shield forced me back to reality. The amazon guards attacked me from all sides, aiming for my legs and arms. I felt like I was training at school once again, playing the warrior under the watchful red eyes of the priests.

While I always proved mediocre at drills, the lessons still stuck. I remembered the footwork exercises, the physical punishment when I failed to hold a shield correctly, and the thousand words of advice on how to properly stand one’s ground when faced with enemies. And the power I had gained from the Fourth Sun’s embers had finally granted me the strength to carry them through.

Still, I had simply moved from mediocre to average. I managed to hold my ground against the warriors, parrying their blows, and even bashing one away with my shield. However, keeping my Tonalli restrained proved to be an equal struggle. The owl within me simply couldn’t tell the difference between a mock fight and a real one. It was… distracting.

My opponents’ speed and teamwork eventually proved too much. While I blocked a blow with my shield from one warrior and avoided a strike from another, the third snuck behind me and hit me in the back. The blow hurt a bit.

“If that had been an obsidian club, Lord Emperor, you would be dead,” Chikal pointed out to me. “Try again.”

We repeated this exercise three more times, each one becoming easier than the previous one. I learned quickly. I stayed on the move to avoid being cornered or flanked, I bashed faces with my shield whenever I found an opening, and I parried and deflected and dodged when able.

It isn’t just my body, I realized. My reflexes have sharpened too. I reacted quicker, learned quicker. I did not tire either. No matter how hard the amazons tried to rush me, no matter how many blows I blocked or dodged, no soreness seized my muscles. I could have fought on forever.

The newborn sun grows brighter, the wind echoed in the distance. Until one day, it shall shed its mortal coil and set the night ablaze.

After the fourth bout, I pretended to stop to catch my breath so as not to arouse suspicion. While most of my audience appeared more impressed than anything, Tezozomoc among them, neither Necahual nor Chikal were fooled. The former tended to my bruises with ointments and a clenched jaw, as if biting her own tongue; the latter observed me with crossed arms, mulling over my performance.

“What a splendid bout, Your Imperial Majesty,” Tezozomoc complimented me as he gave me a waterskin. “You possess a true champion’s potential.”

“I still have much to learn,” I replied in between sips. Chikal had crushed me easily on this earth, and a monster had nearly murdered me in the Underworld. I had taken the first steps on the path, but the road to strength was a long one indeed. “I need more practice.”

“Even mighty jaguars are born small,” Tezozomoc reassured me. “It takes time to sharpen one’s teeth.”

“And we have so little of it,” Chikal pointed out. “We shall now practice hand-to-hand combat, Lord Emperor.”

“Three-on-one again?” I asked, my fellow sparring partners being as exhausted as I pretended to be.

Chikal shook her head. “I shall be your opponent.”

I held her gaze, returned the waterskin to Tezozomoc, and then tossed my shield and stick aside. Our helpers emptied the training ground while my consort and I faced each other. We both adopted a standard fighting stance, hands raised into fists. We circled each other in silence, looking for an opening.

Chikal jumped at me without warning.

I attempted to intercept her with a punch, but she deftly moved out of my arm’s way, grabbed it, and pulled me closer. Not having expected such a bold move, I struggled not to stumble onto the ground. Before I knew what hit me, Chikal had moved behind my back, put an arm around my neck, and choked me with her elbow. I clawed at her flesh with my nails, but since she was both stronger and taller than me, she managed to lift me above the ground. I struggled to breathe, my feet dangling in the air.

“Why?” Chikal whispered in my ear while loosening her grip. “Why did you decide to attack the Sapa Empire instead of an easier target? For gold and glory?”

For a throne of bones and a crown of blood, the wind said.

“For chaos’ sake,” I coughed back. Damn it, her strength matched that of a coiling snake. Even Tezozomoc appeared a bit worried. He probably thought Chikal meant to rough me up and whispered taunts into my ear.

“You want to weaken the Nightlords’ regime from within…” Chikal realized. “You are a fool if you think they can be defeated. A brave fool, but a fool nonetheless. Resistance is pointless.”

“Did your people not kill Nightkin by dragging them into the sun?” I grunted.

“We did.” A thin smile formed at the edge of Chikal’s lips. “I did.”

“Then we can, no, should fight back.” To prove my words, I stepped to the right, pulling all my weight against Chikal’s arm. This sudden movement loosened her hold enough for me to kick her in between her legs. Chikal coughed in pain and released her hold. “Better that than to languish in servitude until our usefulness comes to an end.”

My escape was short-lived. Chikal grabbed my right arm, pulled it behind my back, and then threw me to the ground. I crashed head-first into the dirt while my consort pinned me to the ground, her body leaning against me as if to welcome me in a carnal embrace.

“The spawn are mortal, their creators are not,” she whispered into my ear, her voice now lacking in confidence. “I have seen her in action, The Bird of War. I bore witness to her true self. A feathered beast strong enough to grind stone to dust and cleave a warrior in half with a single blow.”

An experience that shook her as much as me witnessing Yoloxochitl’s true self. “I have seen what the Flower of the Heart hides beneath her pristine skin,” I replied, unblinking. “So yes, they’re strong… and yet so weak that they must crawl away from the rising sun.”

Chikal let out a chuckle. “I too desired nothing more than to fight and die on my feet, Iztac.”

Iztac? Not Lord Emperor?

Martyrs garner admiration, the wind whispered in my ear. Even when their message goes unheard.

“But my loyalty to my sisters in Chilam proved greater. When I realized resistance meant extermination, I swallowed my pride for my kin’s sake. Such is a queen’s duty. I will do anything to ensure my people’s safety.”

“Then we should work together,” I argued. “We both have a year to live, and once you are gone your city will lose what little protection you can provide. So long as your people live under the Nightlords’ yoke, they are one word away from being slaughtered.”

Chikal leaned in closer, her breasts against my back, her lips against my ear. “Can you free Chilam, Iztac?”

My jaw clenched on its own. “Not yet.”

“Not yet, not ever.”

“Not yet,” I insisted with confidence. “And until that day comes, I can make your people’s lives easier. I can exempt Chilam from war requirements or tributes. We have more to gain from cooperating than fighting each other.”

Chikal held her breath. I turned my head slightly to better look at her face. She mulled over my words, briefly considered giving in to the light of hope… and then morosely smothered it.

“I shall not help you plot against the Nightlords,” Chikal decided sternly.

As I feared. Much like Lady Sigrun, she had come to believe in the false goddesses’ aura of invincibility. I couldn’t risk revealing my powers to sway her either; not until she had earned my complete and utter trust.

“But I shall not betray you to them either,” Chikal added, leaving the door open. “If you prevail by some miracle, it will serve Chilam’s interests. Until then, I will look the other way.”

She would serve me as a loyal consort and advisor, but would not exceed her duties. Saddening. At least I had talked her out of becoming an enemy, and I still saw the potential to make her a friend.

“If one of the Nightlords were to perish,” I started, “would you change your tune?”

Chikal nearly scoffed, swallowed her doubts to consider the situation rationally, and then let out a shrug. “Most likely.”

“Good,” I replied. “I shall remember it.”

Then I suddenly headbutted her in the nose.

I felt something moist and warm on my hair—blood most likely. Chikal didn’t expect it, nor the elbow strike I gave her in the chest. I managed to throw her off my back with savage resistance, then kicked dust in her face. It gave me enough time to jump back to my feet. Tezozomoc, who had looked ready to separate us by force, cracked an amused smile.

Chikal did not hurry up. She calmly wiped the dust off her face, rose back up, and faced me. “Clever boy,” she said with a thin smile. “Sweet talking me into lowering my guard.”

“Victory excuses everything,” I replied while returning her smile. “I hope you found my performance suitable.”

Chikal’s smile quickly faded away. “You have good instincts and passable physical aptitude, but little to no technique. I request at least two hours of daily drills.”

“Granted.” I turned to Tezozomoc. “Find a place in my schedule where I can fit them in.”

“As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.” Tezozomoc bowed slightly. “If I may, we should proceed with interrogating the Sapa ambassadors while we still have time. The goddesses will request your presence at sundown for the New Fire Ceremony.”

An event I did not look forward to.

Do not forget our covenant, the wind warned me, a traitor's wages are paid in suffering.

Tonight would be a busy time.

“I must take my leave,” I informed Chikal. “I expect you to prepare the generals’ assembly in my absence.”

“Of course, Iztac,” my consort replied with a short, respectful bow.

“Iztac?” I raised an eyebrow. “Not Lord Emperor?”

“I can use both if you prefer.” Chikal put a hand on her waist, her cold eyes appraising me with what could pass for appreciation. “I admit I’m pleasantly surprised. I feared you would prove a weakling, but you have fire in your veins.”

My heart skipped a beat, though I managed to keep a straight face. If only she knew…

Interrogating the Sapa ambassadors proved to be a different challenge than I expected. When I walked into their cells and found myself welcomed with the nauseating stench of blood and charred flesh, I immediately realized how the red-eyed priests had intended to extract confessions from their prisoners.

What I had seen then… those terrible stone wheels and bone spikes and sharp metal pyramids dripping blood… I would rather forget. The ambassadors—truthfully—proclaimed their innocence, but their pleas had gone unheard. Yoloxochitl’s cruelty paled compared to the sublimely nauseating horrors her servants inflicted on our prisoners.

And worst of all, the priests didn’t even take joy in the torture.

I had watched the torturers’ reactions almost as acutely as those of the prisoners. If they had shown a perverse enjoyment in their craft… I would still have hated them, but at least I would have understood it. But these people showed neither cruelty nor remorse. They carved men open with blank faces and unblinking red eyes, their hands swinging blades with the steadiness of veteran butchers. Inflicting pain was no more than a job for the priests. A task they had long grown indifferent to.

The Nightlords had managed to make the worst evils banal.

These animals… These animals don’t deserve a quick death, I told myself on my way out of this den of terror, my thoughts too weak to drown out the screams. One day… one day, they shall share their victims suffering. I swear it.

Though the extracted confessions proved of little value, the priests did provide potentially helpful information. The stones used to carve the Chaskarumi tablet came from the city of Paitili in the Antisuyu region of the Sapa Empire; a place with walls made of the purest gold, protected by mountains on one side and rainforests on the other.

The local Apu was called Inkarri… and that was all the ambassadors could tell me. The man—they believed him to be a man—had founded the city over a century ago, bequeathing his name and title to his descendants. Our prisoners believed the current Apu was some great-grandchild of the original, though they never met him in person. How odd. How suspicious.

At least I had a lead, meager as it was.

“I am truly sorry that Your Imperial Majesty had to see this,” Tezozomoc apologized as we exited the dungeons. Necahual and other servants awaited us outside; I had spared her a few more nightmares. “We tried less intrusive methods at first, but failed to make progress.”

Of course you failed, their blood was on my hands alone. “Death would have been kinder than what I saw today, Tezozomoc.”

“It would have been,” my advisor conceded. “But the heavens do not forgive the earth’s slights against them.”

A long-winded way to say the ambassadors deserved a hundred torments for daring to strike a living god. Though he was a more tolerable advisor than Tlacaelel, this moment starkly reminded me that Tezozomoc remained a red-eyed priest first and foremost. His sincere fanaticism simply let him justify the most horrendous of crimes.

And I can’t even scold him for it without arousing suspicion, I thought grimly. I had to feign vengefulness to sell my lie. The best I could do was to argue against these shameful tortures on practical grounds.

“I doubt we will extract much from them,” I warned Tezozomoc. “Whoever ordered me dead clearly did not trust these fools with important information.”

“I’m afraid so,” my advisor replied. “We have mobilized our spies in the Sapa Empire and are awaiting reports from them. If the Inkarri Apu ensorcelled the cursed tablet, we shall confirm it with haste.”

“We employ spies among those savages?” If I could give this information to the Sapa Empire’s leadership, all the better.

“Quite a few, Your Imperial Majesty. While infiltrating the Sapa Emperor’s court has proved difficult, we have penetrated their bureaucracy and political establishment. Lady Ingrid will probably tell you more. She is meant to oversee matters of foreign diplomacy, including our nation’s foreign network.”

“Send her to my bedchambers tonight,” I declared. “This matter cannot wait.”

“As you wish.” Tezozomoc coughed, as if suddenly remembering a trivial matter. “While it pales before the events at hand, Xochipilli’s sons still await an audience with Your Imperial Majesty.”

“I have not forgotten them.” They had simply slipped out of my mind. “Call them over now. There is still an hour before twilight.”

Tezozomoc coughed in embarrassment. “Your Imperial Majesty, if I may, the New Fire Ceremony demands a ritual cleansing…”

“Then summon them to my baths,” I mused with a shrug. “If those two are wise, they will not waste their emperor’s time while he washes.”

Tezozomoc hid his sigh behind a deep bow. “As Your Imperial Majesty wishes it.”

“Call Lady Sigrun too,” I ordered. I had promised to inform her which of those two I would select, so that she might receive a bribe and strengthen her influence. “She will help clean me.”

A few minutes later, Necahual was helping me undress in the palace’s bathhouse. The complex, as large as a small district, was a study in opulence. A marble pool vaster than a ballgame court sprang up at its center, surrounded by exquisite fountains and smaller baths filled with either warm or cold waters. Windows and vents artfully diverted steam to the outside.

No sooner had Necahual deftly undressed me that I slid into the warm waters of a tub. A lifetime of bathing in rivers made me appreciate such luxury. I let out a sigh of pleasure as I leaned back, letting the warmth and steam wash away the soreness in my muscles, my exhaustion, and my dark thoughts. I heard a quick rustle of clothes behind me. I noticed Necahual piling my clothes out of the corner of my eye and then filling a small kettle with hot water. My silent guards were posted in each corner of the room, ready to taint the waters with blood at the first sign of danger.

Even in this place, I can’t relax, I thought. Necahual poured her kettle behind me, the water streaming on my shoulders. It smelled of plants and flagrant oils. No matter how much I want to.

“What did you see?” Necahual asked behind me, the noise of running water hiding her words. “In the dungeons… You returned paler than when you came in.”

“You heard the screams, did you not?” I scoffed. “Blood and terror. The answer is always blood and terror.”

A week into my tenure, and I was already sick of both.

“I see,” Necahual muttered, her expression grim. Her mind probably conjured terrible pictures, none as horrifying as what I saw. “What of… the other thing?”

Watching my improved physical prowesses had only heightened her interest in learning magic.

“There is a way,” I confessed, playing with the water. “But the price is too high.”

Necahual squinted at me. “For you?”

“For you,” I replied.

Necahual’s lips twisted in anger. “Will I lose Eztli?”

You already lost her long ago, I thought, but her answer did give me pause. Was her daughter’s life the price she was most afraid to pay? She might be a half-decent mother underneath all her scorn and bitterness.

“No,” I replied. “The price will be yours alone to support.”

Necahual shrugged in relief. “Then I will gladly pay it.”

We would see how long that resolve would last.

“Is that why you want to learn witchcraft?” I asked her as she started to wash my shoulders with a soapy sponge. “To save Eztli?”

“Yes,” Necahual confirmed. When I thought her familial love alone had proved stronger than her distaste for magic, her voice became a little more unsteady. “And… and for myself.”

I looked over my shoulder. Her hands stroked the sponge with anger and bitterness. My mother-in-law gathered her breath and mustered her courage.

“I have had enough,” Necahual confided.

“Of what?”

“Of feeling weak.” Her eyes avoided mine out of shame. “Of being weak.”

Her deep frustration spoke to my heart, for I shared it.

“It’s unbearable, isn’t it?” I said as she scratched my back with the sponge, washing away the dirt and sweat. “That’s how you made me feel for years.”

“I know,” she admitted, her tone lower than earlier. “I… I apologize for it.”

I shrugged. As I warned her before, while I would try to move forward I would not forgive her either.

“I need your help, Iztac,” Necahual insisted. “I want my daughter back. I want the strength to take her back. Even if…” She cleared her throat, struggling to find the right soft words. “Even if…”

I snorted. “Even if you must become a monster?”

“Yes.” At least she did not deny it. “I… I will do anything you ask of me. Accept any price I can pay.”

“Even if that price is everything?” I pointed out.

Necahual bit her tongue and nodded without hesitation. It was easy to consent to a great sacrifice when one didn’t understand it.

“Disrobe,” I said suddenly.

Necahual froze in place, the sponge falling from her hands and into the water. She stared at me in shock, wondering, no, praying that she had misheard.

“Disrobe,” I repeated myself, pointing at the other end of the tube. “In front of me.”

Necahual bit her lips, then silently moved to the other side of the tube. She faced me with a hint of fear, then untied her belt and let her cotton clothes slide onto the splashed marble floor. She tried to protect her modesty by covering her breasts and pubic hair with her hands, but I dissuaded her with a look. Necahual reluctantly let go, letting me admire her.

Eztli had inherited her beauty from her mother and much like my other concubines, other slaves made sure to pamper her. Necahual appeared to have lost a few years since she settled in the palace. Priceless oils helped smooth her wrinkles; her long black hair was cleaned and combed; good food had improved her health.

Another man might have been aroused at the sight of her nakedness, but I only saw yet another reminder that the Nightlords made pampered pets of us all. We were no better than turkeys fattened for slaughter.

The experience was deeply uncomfortable for the both of us… as it should be.

“Get into the water,” I ordered her after a while.

Mustering what little dignity she had left, Necahual silently slid into the tube. Her eyes were full of fear, as they should. Her arrival sent small waves splashing out of the tube. The moment she came within reach, I grabbed her jaw with my hand and pulled her lips closer. Her unsteady breath blew warm air on my face.

“That’s what it means, to give me everything,” I warned her sternly. “Eternal slavery and humiliation. Your soul will be mine. Your life will be mine. You will have power, yes, but only as much as I give you. Do you understand?”

Necahual glared back at me. “My life is already at your mercy.”

“No, it is not. You still have a chance to escape with your freedom, however meager it is. Only death will wipe away this particular slave brand.” And even then I wasn’t so sure. “You will live the rest of your existence knowing that you are at my mercy, that I could do anything to you on a whim. You will fear me the same way the priests fear their gods.”

Only then did I release her jaw. Though Necahual’s natural bitterness returned in full force, her somber expression told me I had shaken her resolve.

“If you’re not willing to spend the rest of your existence like this, as a higher power’s property,” I warned her. “Then you should reconsider learning witchcraft.”

Necahual bit her tongue without answering. I hoped I had scared her straight.

I heard footsteps hitting water. Tezozomoc and Lady Sigrun approached our tub, the former clothed, the other hiding her nakedness under a thinly woven sheet of cotton. Ingrid’s mother appraised the scene with a calculating, amused look.

“Your Imperial Majesty.” Tezozomoc stared at Necahual, who instinctively covered her naked breasts. He must have mistaken our interaction for something more intimate. “Are we interrupting—”

I suppressed a surge of disgust. “You interrupt nothing.”

Tezozomoc clearly didn’t believe me, much to my annoyance. I told myself word of this would pacify Yoloxochitl at least. A meager reassurance.

“Are the sons ready to settle their father’s inheritance?” I asked. Tezozomoc nodded in agreement. “Then send them to us with haste.”

Tezozomoc excused himself with a bow and left to pick up Xochipilli’s heirs. Lady Sigrun moved closer to the tube’s edge, her radiant golden hair falling like a waterfall on her shoulders.

“I am glad to see you safe and sound, my emperor,” she said politely. “My dear Ingrid worried for your safety, as did I.”

A polite lie. She probably knew by now the Nightlords’ grip transcended even death. “Your concerns are welcome, but unwarranted,” I replied calmly. “As you can see, I am safe and sound, though in need of cleaning.”

Lady Sigrun smiled ear to ear. “I will be glad to assist.”

She let go of her cloth, revealing her perfect figure and pristine skin whiter than the bathhouse’s marble. To my slight embarrassment, my eyes basked in the glory of her body, of her perfect curves and sublime legs. Her golden hair reminded me of a waterfall as she slowly slid into the water to join us. She gracefully swam closer like a fish and comfortably took a place to my right.

While Necahual scrubbed me with a sponge without a word, still mulling over the warning I gave her, Lady Sigrun gently stroked my chest with her delicate fingers, tracing lines along my navel. Her mere caress sent jolts of pleasure through my skin. Such was the state in which Tezozomoc found us in when he returned with two men in tow.

“Move closer,” I ordered Necahual. I pulled one arm around her waist and the other around Sigrun’s, then pulled them close. While Necahual recoiled slightly at my touch, whether out of shame or disgust, Lady Sigrun welcomed it. She understood I meant to give these men a spectacle, that we were all actors on a stage.

“Your Imperial Majesty.” Tezozomoc knelt onto the water-soaked floor, imitated by the two men following him. My guards gathered around them in utter silence, weapons ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Allow me to introduce the sons of the late Xochipilli: Tlazohtzin the elder and Tlaxcala the younger.”

I gave the two a passing glance. Xochipilli’s sons couldn’t be more different, though their faces shared a familial resemblance.

Tlazohtzin, the eldest heir, was a man in his early twenties, with well-groomed short brown hair and practical traveling garbs. He appeared very much like an aspiring merchant eager to claim his fortune through clever wits, with strong muscles developed from years of carrying loads across the road.

His younger and better-born brother, Tlaxcala, couldn’t have been older than sixteen, with a slim and refined frame that immediately told me he hadn’t worked a single day in his life. His high-status clothes included eagle feathers and jewelry.

Both avoided my gaze, as was proper when in an emperor’s presence, though they were trembling. Tlaxcala in particular struggled not to ogle at the ladies in my company.

While short, my experience with rulership had taught me a valuable lesson: that symbols mattered more than words. These two had put immense effort into putting on a good show… yet I welcomed them naked in the company of beautiful women without a care in the world.

It didn’t beat welcoming them from atop the imperial throne, but it showcased the emperor’s power, splendor, and prestige. The message was clear. Their lives, their futures, were at my disposal.

“You have five minutes each to make your case,” I said sternly. “Which one should go first though, I wonder…”

“Your Imperial Majesty, may I suggest you listen to Tlaxcala’s plea first?” Tezozomoc proposed. “By virtue of his esteemed mother Yaretzi’s lineage, he possesses noble blood.”

Tlazohtzin clenched his fists in annoyance. He clearly didn’t like being reminded of his common origins.

“If I may argue otherwise, my emperor,” Lady Sigrun suggested. “The young should always listen to their elders, should they not?”

“True,” I replied. “I shall listen to Tlazohtzin first then.”

I had promised Lady Sigrun my help on the matter. Her presence at the audience, and the fact I had listened to her advice over another advisor, would add credence to her boast that she could influence my decisions. She would extract any price she wished from them now.

Each brother shortly argued their case in turn, though I already knew the details. Tlazohtzin had been the eldest son of his father’s first wife and putative heir. He had helped develop his father’s business since the moment he came of age. He understood how to run the inns, brothels, and breweries his late sire had left behind. As the oldest and most experienced of the two brothers, he believed himself the best suited to manage Xochipilli’s inheritance… and I was tempted to agree with.

His brother Tlaxcala, meanwhile, based his argument not on merit, but on birth. His mother was an influential noble from Yohuachanca’s capital and used her family’s influence to help Xochipilli buy property in the capital. As a scion of an esteemed lineage with the right connections, he argued that his father’s commercial empire would prosper better under his influence.

“My mother’s uncle was an emperor and her aunt a consort,” Tlaxcala explained with a honeyed tone, as if it would help build kinship between us. “Her beauty is only matched by her wits, though both pale before those of your exalted companions, oh Great Emperor.”

“Is that so?” I smiled and decided to test the waters. “Perhaps I should welcome her into my harem then. A fresh widow’s heart wanders without a man to warm her bed.”

My bold words shocked both Tlazohtzin and Necahual, while Tezozomoc did his best to hide his disapproval. I meant it as an intentional provocation, to see just how far Tlaxcala was willing to go in greed’s name. A good son would have kept silent or tried to protect his family’s honor.

Tlaxcala was not a good son. “I would gladly introduce my mother to Your Imperial Majesty, if it pleases you.”

In short, they were both opportunists eager to curry imperial favor. Good. Very good.

“You may both go,” I said, dismissing the two men. “You have given me much to think about.”

In truth, I had already selected a winner, but I would wait for them to try bribing Lady Sigrun first before announcing my choice openly. Both brothers thanked me profusely, and then crawled out of the bathhouse under Tezozomoc’s watchful gaze.

“Quite the pair, those two,” Lady Sigrun mused. “Who will my emperor choose?”

“Is it not obvious?” I shrugged. “Tlaxcala.”

Necahual scowled in disapproval. “That snake does not deserve it.”

“Indeed,” Lady Sigrun replied with a chuckle. “Hence why he will pay more to get what he wants.”

That was my reasoning as well. Tlazohtzin was by far the superior choice, with experience and diligence to match… but his brother was both better connected and willing to do anything for the inheritance. As unjust as it sounded, Tlaxcala would better serve my interests.

“My emperor is wise and far-sighted,” Lady Sigrun said with a mischievous tone. “The war he prophesied shall soon be upon us.”

She was no more blind to my plot than Chikal before her.

“Luck smiles on me.” I marked a short pause for emphasis. “And those that I favor.”

“Of course.” Lady Sigrun leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. “You will be pleased to learn that your source’s advice proved true. I shall recover the books I seek with haste.”

Now was my chance. “The First Emperor’s codices?”

Lady Sigrun was an experienced politician and a master of spycraft. She had spent decades hiding her true feelings and strengthened her self-control the way Chikal intended to train my body.

So when her eyes subtly widened in genuine shock and surprise, I knew I had thrown her off her game. She was collecting the First Emperor’s writings.

“The second volume is quite the interesting book,” I said, pushing my advantage. “Such strange theological views, don’t you agree?”

Even Necahual, who did not understand my statement’s significance, sensed their importance. However, I had failed to shake Lady Sigrun’s composure. Her look of surprise did not last long.

“My emperor is wise indeed.” Lady Sigrun rested her chin on my shoulder, her hands gently tracing lines down to my navel. I felt something else rise as her fingers caressed me. “And well-learned.”

“Perhaps we could exchange reading recommendations tonight,” I suggested.

“But of course.” She gave me a smile full of shining, perfect teeth. “My emperor learns quickly.”

Yes, I did. The more I understood this game’s rules, the better I played it. From Chikal to Xochipilli’s sons, I was starting to figure out how to use the emperor’s powers effectively. I might not be Yohuachanca’s ultimate authority… but I was still pretty damn close.

“It is time, Your Imperial Majesty.”

I turned my head at Tezozomoc, who had returned.

“Lady Yoloxochitl and Lady Eztli await you,” he said. “The New Fire Ceremony is upon us.”