Blood & Fur

Chapter Twenty-Seven: War & Games

Chapter Twenty-Seven: War & Games

Sixty generals had come from all corners of the empire to die in my name.

With the inclusion of the four leaders of the warrior fraternities and Tezozomoc, who represented the priesthood, this brought the total number of advisors to sixty-five; sixty-nine with my consorts. I’d never faced such a large assembly of people since my coronation.

I hoped to cut down that number significantly by the end of my rule.

As expected of an emperor, I arrived at the assembly last. Warriors old and young sat on the ground in the shadow of my throne room’s marble columns. All knelt before me as I ascended the steps towards my obsidian throne, a sea of muscled men draped in feathers and cotton armor. I paid more attention to the old veterans. Most soldiers died young, so those who had lived enough to become fathers and grandfathers were either terribly cunning or incredibly strong.

I found it strangely difficult to tell them apart from each other for the most part; only members of the various fraternities were allowed to wear more exotic uniforms like jaguar fur and quetzal feathers. For the most part, my generals felt interchangeable; a detail I assume the Nightlords planned for.

I counted no women among their numbers either. It didn't surprise me much since Yohuachanca’s military doctrine enforced strict gender rules when it came to the army, but it felt somewhat saddening after seeing Chikal and her amazons in action. I suspected my consort could match any of these generals in battle and come out on top.

Yet in Yohuachanca, women were meant to produce more soldiers to fuel the empire’s expansion while men died in battle. I’d never truly questioned that state of affairs until I ascended to the throne, but now it struck me as unfathomably cruel and restrictive. Doubly so since despite the fact the Nightlords were women, Sugey herself did not hesitate to wage wars personally.

We mortals were all disposable resources assigned as the Nightlords saw fit.

The four representatives of the warrior fraternities who had advised me earlier, Coaxoch, Cuauhteztli, Amoxtli, and Patli, occupied a place of status below my throne, but one lower than my consorts and Tezozomoc, who were allowed to stand next to me. Chikal had come dressed for battle, as befitting of her station as my minister of war; Ingrid offered me a respectful reverence; while Eztli smiled mischievously.

My heartbeat hastened the moment our eyes met. I hadn’t seen her since the tablet incident, where she awakened her wolf totem and fell into the Jaguar Woman’s terrible ministrations. I had worried so much for her safety that simply seeing her alive came as a relief.

Nenetl seemed well, at least physically speaking. Her pristine skin showed no hint of scars or the kind of torture I had come to expect of the Nightlords. Servants had dressed her in ample, traditional robes adorned with jaguar fur, pearls, and feathers. A glittering ring of silver sat atop her long white hair woven with pale flowers, making her look quite queenly.

But when she immediately lowered her gaze and anxiously joined her hands, I knew she indeed bore new scars; the kind the naked eye could not see. Moreover, I immediately noticed the hint of a tattoo beneath her shoulders. Nenetl immediately raised her robes slightly to cover it fully, her teeth biting her lips in silent shame.

I immediately felt the crushing weight of guilt falling on my shoulders.

Nenetl had awakened her Tonalli while trying to protect me from a monster of my own creation. While I never intended to hurt her, I’d been ready to cross that line if it meant securing a war with the Sapa; and in the end, she did suffer because of me.

I had to make it up to her somehow.

“Nenetl,” I said while I stood before my throne.

This time she dared to look at me. Half a hundred speeches and well-rehearsed words of comfort crossed my mind, but when I met her pale eyes so similar to mine, I forgot all of them and smiled.

“It is good to see you again,” I said from the bottom of my heart.

Nenetl briefly gasped, her cheeks reddening. “I… me too, Iz–” Nenetl immediately stopped herself upon remembering we were at a public meeting and quickly bowed. “My lord Iztac.”

Her adorable clumsiness soothed my bitter heart. I sat on the throne in a lighter mood than when I entered the room.

While Eztli appeared amused by this brief interlude and Chikal observed it with her usual coolness, Ingrid squinted in disapproval. I briefly wondered why before remembering that my deal with her mother involved treating her as my favorite. Did she think a brief show of affection to a friend in pain would jeopardize her standing?

I suppose I shouldn’t have done that before all of my realm’s generals, but for once I couldn’t care less about decorum. I wanted to atone for what I did to Nenetl, even in a small way. I supposed I would make it up to Ingrid by asking for her input a few times during the meeting. That should assuage her wounded pride.

“You stand in the presence of the Godspeaker!” Tezozomoc announced. “Emperor of Yohuachanca and master of the world!”

My mind more or less slipped away as he started reciting my titles. I cleared my throat when he finished, the entire hall growing silent. I rehearsed the speech I had carefully prepared with my predecessors one final time; these people only knew me as this year’s emperor, and I would not have two chances to make a good first impression. Thankfully, the Parliament of Skulls had centuries of experience refining this art.

“Thank you all for making the long journey to my capital, my generals,” I addressed my audience. “For centuries, warriors such as yourselves have stood vigilant over the blessed people of Yohuachanca. Our empire’s writ extends as far as your spears’ reach.”

Though I was younger than the dozen veterans who listened to me, the words came easily. I had grown almost comfortable in my current role, and facing the likes of King Mictlantecuhtli granted me more nerves than most.

“The empire requests your strength once again. The treacherous Sapa people made an attempt on my life while pretending to extend a hand of friendship.“ After a short moment of hesitation, I waved a hand at Nenetl. “My consort was nearly slain during the attack.”

Nenetl shrank in place. If she could have turned invisible, she would have. I somewhat regretted using her like this, but it had to be done.

“This act cannot go unpunished,” I declared. “The Sapa have defied the heavens, thinking their mountains shall protect them. It is now our duty to bring them down to earth. We shall march on their golden cities, tear down their hills of stone, and return home crowned in glory. Your resolve will be tested, by our foes and the gods alike… but you will prove worthy. For the goddesses and their children themselves will stand witness to your trials.”

And I would ensure they would not survive long enough to deliver a final verdict.

Acclamations welcomed my speech, though how much of this applause was sincere remained to be seen. How many times had these generals been summoned to the capital to hear similar words? Yohuachanca had been at war since its creation. The oldest of my soldiers had survived a lifetime of blood conflicts.

I waited for silence to return before waving a hand at Chikal. “My consort will now explain to you what strategy we have chosen to shatter the so-called Sapa Empire,” I declared. “I expect you all to play your roles to the fullest of your abilities.”

“Thank you, oh Great Emperor,” Chikal said with a respectful reverence. “We will not disappoint you.”

I honestly hoped they did. The more disastrous the invasion went, the more the Nightlords and their spawn would be forced to expose themselves to salvage it.

Chikal and Tezozmoc proceeded to detail the plan the former had formed with my other advisors to the assembly. The gathering itself was mostly a question about who would be assigned which role; certain commanders would follow me in battle while others would have the task of managing the most ambitious coastal raid in our nation’s history.

Another matter to discuss would be the attack’s timing; our plan relied on officially challenging the Sapa to a formal Flower War on an agreed-upon place and date as a distraction while our main force would strike their coast from the sea. This meant a great deal of negotiation with our enemies would take place before any actual combat.

“I expect much from you in this case, Ingrid,” I whispered to my consort while Chikal continued her public address. “As my chief of diplomacy, do you believe the Sapa would deny us a Flower War?”

“My lord selected a bold plan,” Ingrid flattered me. She relaxed a bit now that I publicly paid her more attention. “I do not think they will refuse. Considering their current political instability, any would-be emperor will jump at the chance to gain victories and legitimacy. Of course, I expect my lord to crush them, but a Flower War will seem a better compromise than a full-blown conflict.”

I thought the same. Denying the offer of localized duels would seem like cowardice.

“Moreover, I believe I have found a way to all but guarantee an answer from my lord’s enemies and utter chaos among their ranks.” Ingrid smiled deviously. “We will address the war declaration to the Sapa Emperor without naming him.”

I thought over her proposal, but Eztli caught on to the trap’s insidiousness before me. “Oh, very clever,” she commented, leaning in to meddle with the discussion. “Since the eldest and youngest sons of the late Sapa Emperor are at each other’s throats over who will take the throne, this would imply we recognize whoever answers our challenge as our enemies’ head of state.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid replied courteously, though smile became a little more strained. She did not like her rival’s intrusion. A fact that clearly amused Eztli. “We should send the declaration as soon as possible. Waiting too long will give the Sapa time to settle their differences through diplomacy.”

I nodded in agreement, though I privately hoped for the exact opposite. If a direct threat from a foreign ruler and the counsel of a Mallquis sorcerer couldn’t unify the Sapa royal house against Yohuachanca, nothing would. Nothing except perhaps the death of a prince in battle.

“Which of the Sapa brothers will answer our challenge, I wonder,” I muttered under my breath.

Ingrid chuckled lightly. “The one with the most to prove.”

She proved her sharpness once again. These would-be emperor siblings fighting over inheritance reminded me of the feud between Tlaxcala and Tlazohtzin. I supposed all families behaved this way when a father did not settle his affairs before passing.

I’d intended to settle the dispute in Tlaxcala’s favor, since he could offer me the most support, but Ingrid’s remark gave me a devious idea of my own. I could still make use of the spurned brother if I played my pieces carefully…

Thankfully, the subject of the invasion’s timing soon came up.

“Forgive humble Tlatilpa,” one of the generals said after being granted the right to speak, “But it will take at least a month’s turn to mobilize a fleet large enough to overwhelm the Sapa’s coastal cities.”

Tlatilpa? I recognized the name as one of Nochtli’s secret allies during his aborted coup. As more names from that list came up, I confirmed a few of his supporters had managed to keep their allegiances hidden. Not all of them, but a handful.

So far so good. I had already thought of a way to talk with these potential allies without having guards and priests watching over me, which I would test during my nap.

“Even taking into account the fleet’s launch, I would wager on two weeks of smooth sailing before our troops might see enemy land,” another general suggested.

“It's a pity that we have to keep some ships on the wrong coast to deal with the eastern islands,” Eztli commented lightly at my side. “Since Your Majesty ordered forced conversions, the locals have started to prove… difficult.”

“And whose fault is that?” Ingrid replied, her sarcasm thinly veiled by courtesy.

Mine, since I’d purposefully done my best to foster revolts within the empire; though Eztli did give me the excuse to make it reality.

Eztli gave Ingrid a hypocritical smile worthy of the late Tlacaelel. “My, but who else than me? An emperor is never wrong, only badly counseled.”

She meant it as a joke, but the remark was sharply insightful. Since the Nightlords needed the emperor alive until the next Scarlet Moon, they would rather shift the blame on underlings whenever convenient.

“If I understand well…” I started, my voice cutting through the chit-chat like an obsidian sword through flesh. “You say it would take one to two months to organize the naval assault?”

“Indeed, Lord Emperor,” Chikal replied. “It may be best to organize the Flower War slightly earlier to keep the Sapa’s forces occupied on the wrong front.”

“Our astrological consultations confirm that a Flower War launched during the Wind month would bring great fortune to Your Majesty’s efforts,” Tezozomoc added. “The stars will align during that time.”

The imperial solar calendar would reset after the New Fire Ceremony. The first month would be Crocodile, then Wind, my birth month. Since I was born on its first day, starting a campaign then would make for a powerful symbol. Moreover, as emperor, I would be expected to oversee a sacred rain festival in the following House month.

I wasn’t certain of how to interpret the priests’ auspices, however. The Nightlords wielded great powers and understood the cosmos enough to consider reshaping it in their image. While I knew they were no true gods, their astrological predictions might contain a kernel of truth. They did predict my birth as a Nahualli after all.

Thankfully, Eztli read my mind and spared a potentially suspicious question. “Will the emperor’s efforts go well, or the war?” she asked Tezozomoc. “This might prove a subtle, yet important, difference.”

“An emperor is favored by fortune during their birth month,” Tezozomoc replied calmly. “I assume the goddesses will smile on all of their speaker’s actions during that time.”

An evasive answer if I’d ever heard one. Eztli also seemed equally amused. “So you say the emperor’s reign can only decline after that month flies by.”

Tezozomoc smiled in embarrassment. “I have no doubt His Imperial Majesty will steer his own fate towards a glorious future.”

“I shall endeavor to do so,” I replied, though I doubted Tezozomoc and I shared the same vision of a ‘glorious future.’ I turned to Ingrid next. “Do you think you can negotiate a Flower War for the Wind month?”

“I believe so,” Ingrid confirmed. “A campaign on the onset of spring would give the Sapa emperor claimants a chance to face my lord in battle and gain legitimacy before the rest of their realm may settle for one or the other.”

“Then it is settled.” I gave Ingrid a sharp nod. “I will be relying on you for this one.”

Ingrid put her hand on her chest. “I shall not disappoint you, my lord.”

Assuming I successfully foiled the New Fire Ceremony and that the Sapa Empire accepted the deal, this left me with a month to thoroughly sabotage the invasion before it could actually begin.

My plan for the generals went far beyond recruiting supporters among their numbers. Once Mother taught me to disguise my feathers, I would lay Curses on the invasion’s key figures to ensure that it would end in a disaster. I couldn’t infect every member of the assembly without risking discovery, but a few well-placed spells should achieve the expected result.

Henceforth, I spent most of the assembly taking notes of which general would be assigned to which part of the invasion. My predecessors had also given me a list of those who supported Nochtli’s aborted coup, so I would check which of them survived the Nightlords’ purge. I could not afford to curse potential supporters.

None of this will matter if the Nightlords rewrite the cosmos, I thought. Unfortunately, that matter will require all my attention in the short term.

The generals would likely stay in the capital a few days after the New Fire Ceremony’s conclusion to plan the invasion’s finer details. I would have opportunities to scout them out then.

“I have high hopes for what we might achieve together,” I told the generals as the assembly reached its end. “While other duties are before me, please remain my guests until the New Fire Ceremony concludes. Let us begin a new era of glory for Yohuachanca together.”

Tezozomoc immediately bowed before me, quickly imitated by the generals’ assembly. “I will immediately make the necessary arrangements, Your Imperial Majesty.”

I nodded sharply and watched as the guards escorted the generals away from the throne room. My priests and jailers would have their hands full with so many dignitaries in the palace. This should give me a few opportunities to slip past their watch.

When my throne room became quiet again, with naught by my consorts and guards to share my company, I finally took the opportunity to check on a friend.

“You have been very quiet, Nenetl,” I said softly.

Nenetl shifted uncomfortably next to me. Whereas my other consorts participated in the planning session, she had been silent as a tomb from start to finish. Even while Nenetl had always been the most shy and reserved of the four, she would often comment on state matters anyway. Her lack of military experience could not explain everything.

“I…” Nenetl cleared her throat and looked down on the cold stone floor. “I am sorry, Iztac.”

“For not speaking up?” I shrugged. “War is not your domain.”

Nenetl bit her lips in shame. “For… for...”

Before I could say anything, she fell to her knees sobbing.

“I’m so sorry I attacked you…” Nenetl knelt, her forehead touching the ground. “I swear, I… I could not… I could not control myself… I never wished to bring you harm… I swear…”

I was so shocked I dared not say a thing. Her words took aback my other consorts too. Chikal observed the scene in silence, her thoughts hidden behind that facade of composure she had long mastered, while Ingrid took a step back as if Nenetl had suddenly become poisonous.

Eztli’s reaction was the most puzzling. Since vampirism corrupted her, I’d only seen her react to others’ pain with disinterest. A wall had arisen between her blackened heart and humanity itself. Yet in this moment, she looked at Nenetl with a sorrowful look that could pass for pity.

“Nenetl, behave yourself,” Ingrid said, albeit weakly. It seemed that all of her mother’s acting lessons had not prepared her to deal with someone in pain. If anything, the whole scene clearly made her uncomfortable.

As for me… the guilt I felt earlier was nothing compared to the sharp pain growing in my heart. Truth was, the thought that Nenetl would blame herself for transforming and nearly striking me while in a wolf state hadn’t even crossed my mind. I half-expected her not to remember what happened while in that form. Moreover, she had transformed in the process of trying to protect me from what she believed to be a threat to my life.

Who in their right mind would have condemned her for that?

No one, except for Nenetl herself. She had spent all her life being told that she was a demon and saw all those lies seemingly justified.

“I knew… I knew I was unfit…” Nenetl started to cry. “This curse… I should not… I was warned, but…”

“But nothing,” I said, unable to take this anymore. I immediately rose from my throne, decorum be damned, and bent the knee next to my friend and consort. “Nenetl? Nenetl, look at me.”

When she would do nothing else but sob, I grabbed her shaking shoulders with my hands and forced her to raise her head. She finally looked up to me, her pale eyes red with tears. Somehow it made it worse. It felt like that night Necahual broke down before me all over again.

“I don’t blame you for anything,” I comforted her. “You’ve saved my life.”

The lie came easily and tasted all the bitter for it; doubly so since it had become the truth as far as the world was concerned. She did try to save me from a monster of my own creation and suffered for it.

This irony hit all the harder since my words fell on deaf ears. When I struggled to find the right words to shake Nenetl out of her grief, I received help from an unexpected place.

“As Iztac said, there is nothing to atone for,” Eztli said. She put a hand on Nenetl’s hair and gently stroked it. “From what I heard, you tried to defend him from an assassin. You have shown great courage.”

“But then I…” Nenetl joined her hands, her fingers shaking. “That thing inside me… it nearly killed him anyway…”

“Silly Nenetl, don’t you know?” Eztli smiled joylessly. “Only the goddesses alone can harm an emperor.”

Even when the new Eztli tried to show compassion, her behavior still managed to leave me unsettled. I still appreciated the gesture.

“Nenetl, don’t cry.” When my words failed to reach her, I simply decided to hug Nenetl. Her head fell on my left shoulder as she let my arms close around her. She felt so thin and fragile within them. “I am thankful, I swear. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Eztli kept stroking Nenetl’s hair while I held her. Eventually she calmed down enough to stop sobbing and return the hug. I turned to my other consorts, who had observed the scene in silence without interfering. Chikal’s expression could have been carved from stone, and Ingrid appeared completely at a loss on how to act. Had she never seen someone cry before?

“Our training will have to wait,” I warned them.

“It might be for the best,” Chikal replied with a neutral voice. I still couldn’t tell whether she approved or disapproved of my conduct. “The day is well underway anyway.”

“We will recover the time lost tomorrow,” I said before turning to Ingrid. “My apologies. I know you wanted to observe in the training session, but it will have to wait for another time.”

“No, no, no need to apologize, I understand,” Ingrid said quickly. She dusted her robes and swiftly regained her composure. Her brief moment of weakness had come and gone. “How about we take a bath together?”

I squinted at her. “A bath? Right now?”

“Yes, all of us.” Ingrid glanced at Nenetl. “Warm waters would help soothe her heart.”

I hesitated a moment, before realizing Ingrid might have a point. The imperial baths did wonders for relaxation and Nenetl clearly needed a little pleasure in her life right now. I glanced at the others. “Is that agreeable with you?”

Chikal shrugged her shoulders. “I would appreciate a moment’s rest.”

“You know me,” Eztli replied with a mischievous smirk. “I love water fights. I always win them.”

“Not all of them,” I replied, her quip making me crack a smile. I had briefly been reminded of better times. I gently broke my hug and faced Nenetl. “Would you like that?”

Nenetl wiped her tears, then offered me a small, gentle nod.

Less than an hour later I found myself slipping into the vast marble pools of my palace’s baths. The warm waters and the flowery incense in the air nearly lulled me to sleep immediately.

Ingrid was right. This place did have a way of soothing one’s worries.

Speaking of Ingrid, she arrived first alongside Chikal and proved as graceful in the water as her mother before her. The two made quite the contrasting pair, one small and slender, the other tall and strong.

I’d never seen Chikal naked before, and I had to admit that seeing her strong abs and raw muscles did not leave me indifferent. That woman was in better shape than most male warriors, her healthy body chiseled and sharpened by a lifetime of training. Her tanned

skin bore a dozen healed scars near the thighs and chest. My eyes briefly lingered on them.

Chikal quickly noticed and smiled slightly as she walked into the baths. “Are you fond of scars, Lord Iztac?”

“Someone told me each scar held a story once,” I explained.

“Wise words.” Chikal pointed at two marks near her left breast. “I received this one from an enemy arrow and the other from a sister’s blade. The latter nearly killed me.”

“A sister?” Ingrid asked curiously. “I did not know you had any.”

“All the daughters of Chilam and Balam are sisters,” Chikal explained. “We might not share the same parents, but we are all kin nonetheless.”

I noticed a flash of suspicion in Ingrid’s eyes, though it did not last long. “What could cause a sister to strike at another with the intent to kill?”

“A great many things.” Chikal shrugged her shoulders as she sat at the bath’s edge and rested her arms on the marble. “In this case… you could call it a political disagreement.”

Since that particular mark seemed more recent than the rest, I guessed Chikal received it after betraying her sisterhood to Yohuachanca.

“I believe you showed interest in witnessing our training session?” Chikal asked Ingrid. “Are you interested in warfare?”

Ingrid showed a rare moment of hesitation before raising and lowering her chin. “The women of my mother’s native Winland are allowed to carry weapons and fight,” she explained. “So tales of the brave amazons fearlessly waging war on even the mighty Yohuachanca always resonated with me.”

“Your homeland’s people are wise, Ingrid,” Chikal commented. Though she didn’t directly criticize Yohuachanca, her derisive tone revealed her true feelings on the matter. “Any girl should learn to fight for the day when men fail her.”

“Interesting phrasing,” I noted. “Did something of the sort lead the amazons to shun men?”

“So say our legends,” Chikal confirmed. “Our ancestors overthrew the yoke of foolish rulers who nearly led us to extinction. It is quite a long tale.”

“I would like to hear it,” Ingrid said. “I have always been fascinated by how myths shape cultures.”

Chikal gave Ingrid a sharp, pointed look. Although the fallen queen remained a master at hiding her emotions, I sensed a certain wariness in her posture.

“Come to think of it,” she said. “I haven’t seen you carry any weapon before, Ingrid.”

“Mother refused to train me.” Ingrid lowered her body into the water until only her head peeked out of it. “She said a warrior’s skills would not serve me in my chosen role.”

And she was probably right, I thought. As a consort born of an imperial concubine, Ingrid would never see battle in her life. Her mother probably preferred to focus on teaching her spycraft and diplomacy instead.

“Do you regret it?” I asked her.

“A bit,” Ingrid admitted.

“Is that why you were interested in our lord’s training?” Chikal asked, her eyebrows furrowing in my direction. “Or to ensure I would not make a move on him?”

Going straight for the throat, I thought as I watched Ingrid tensing up. I kept my mouth shut and observed them.

“I do not know what you mean,” Ingrid lied, slightly taken aback by Chikal’s bluntness.

“You do,” Chikal replied sharply. “I saw the way you acted during the assembly, glaring and seething whenever he showed other women more attention than he should. You see our situation as a fight over a limited resource: his favor.”

Ingrid’s gaze grew colder. “We need not be enemies.”

“That is up to you, not me.” Chikal snorted. “My only concern is to preserve my city from destruction. I am not interested in fighting over scraps of power, let alone those of a male.” She spoke the last word with barely hidden resentment at her current position. “Let me do my job without interference and we will get along swimmingly.”

“How can I trust someone who sold out her so-called sisters for a place here?” Ingrid responded with terrible coldness. “These scraps are all the power you have left.”

Chikal’s hands curled into fists. “I did what I had to do for my people.”

“So do I,” Ingrid replied.

“My my my?” Eztli’s mocking voice cut through the argument like a sword through paper. “Hasn’t this gotten interesting?”

I felt almost thankful when Eztli and Nenetl entered the baths soon after; the former naked as the day she was born, the latter with a linen towel covering her back and chest.

“Please, go ahead and kill each other,” Eztli teased them. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“This does not concern you,” Ingrid replied. Chikal’s attention now focused entirely on Eztli, whom she probably saw as the greater threat.

“Of course it does. We should try to get along, don’t you think?” Eztli fearlessly jumped into the pool like she used to do while we lived in Acampa, sending waves in all directions. “We are all fellow slaves here.”

Ingrid recoiled as if she had been slapped, while Chikal’s jaw clenched so tightly I worried she might break a tooth. Eztli had said aloud the truth they did not want to acknowledge. At least it killed this pointless argument and let me focus on a more important matter.

Although she no longer cried, Nenetl did not join us in the water. She anxiously stood at the pool’s edge without daring to touch it.

“Come,” I invited her gently. “It’s warm. You’ll love it.”

“Are you…” Nenetl’s hands tightened on her towel. “Are you sure, Iztac?”

“You have nothing to fear,” I reassured her. When she wouldn’t follow through anyway, my eyes lingered on her towel. I had a vague idea of what she so desperately feared to unveil, but I would not fault her for it. “Or to hide.”

Nenetl hesitated some more, but my kind words reached out to her heart. She slowly removed the towel, revealing her slender, pale figure… and her naked back.

Ingrid covered her mouth in horror. Chikal’s eyes widened, her composure briefly shaken. Only Eztli did not appear surprised, mostly because like me she had come to expect the worst out of the Nightlords.

I found myself at a loss of words, anger burning in my veins.

The Parliament of Skulls had warned me that the Jaguar Woman would mark Nenetl with spells meant to control her transformation. I didn’t expect that sentence to be literal.

The tattoo on Nenetl’s back was the most haunting piece of art I had ever come across, as disturbingly vivid as it was fascinating. A shackled silver wolf screamed under a pitch-black eclipse, spiked obsidian chains coiling around its throat and legs. The vicious restraints carved the beast’s back open and dragged out a howling, bloody red shadow out of it. The picture painted the grim image of a wolf having its soul ripped from its flesh and shackled under a dark sun’s auspices.

I briefly dared to use the Gaze on Nenetl in conjunction with the Veil to observe Nenetl’s totem. I immediately regretted it. The phantom image of a leashed wolf flashed before my eyes; a proud great beast muzzled and shackled by the same black chains that bound my own heart.

I realized my mistake when Nenetl turned red from shame and embarrassment. The looks we’d sent her only worsened her mood.

“It… It won’t happen again,” Nenetl said weakly. “The transformation. Lady Ocelocihuatl said so. She… she took care of it. She said this mark will seal the… the beast.”

My predecessors knew a way to subtly subvert the Jaguar Woman’s control without her knowledge, to usurp ownership of the terrible spell; but I had no way of truly freeing Nenetl without alerting her tormentor.

Now that I saw the mark, the very thought of going through with the skulls’ plan sickened me. I would become the worst kind of slaver: the one that oppressed his own kind.

“That’s… good,” I lied through my teeth in an attempt to comfort her. “This tattoo is… beautiful.”

“She is beautiful, Iztac,” Eztli added, catching on to my plan. “She could be covered in scars and make them look good.”

The compliments might be utterly insincere, but they seemed to reassure Nenetl nonetheless. When I beckoned Nenetl to join us in the bath she slowly followed through, covering her breasts with her arms.

“You need not be so shy, Nenetl,” Ingrid noted. While she remained wary of her fellow consort, I noted a hint of compassion in her gaze. “We are all naked as worms here.”

“I am sorry,” Nenetl apologized, blushing ear to ear. “It’s… it’s my first time bathing with a boy.”

“I was the same,” Eztli commented with a devious expression I knew all too well. “Then I found a trick to ease things up.”

I had survived enough water fights to see her sneak attack coming. I raised my arms to protect my face as Eztli’s hand splashed the pool’s surface and sent a wave straight at me. Nenetl gasped in surprise while Ingrid blinked a few times.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I warned Eztli, briefly forgetting all the horrors I’d been through these past few days. “I’ve declared a war, you know?”

“But can you win this one?” she teased me.

I answered with a vicious wave of my hand that sent water all over her face. Nenetl’s surprise turned into a giggle and Chikal smiled thinly at the spectacle.

Ingrid, however, clearly disapproved. “My lord, must you truly rise to her provocations?”

“Have you never fought this way?” Eztli asked her.

“No, of course not,” Ingrid protested. “It is childish.”

“Then you should make up for lost time,” Eztli noted before splashing water at Ingrid’s face for her trouble. At first shocked, Ingrid attempted to keep her composure.

“Stop it,” Ingrid said. Eztli sent another wave her way. “Stop it,” Ingrid repeated, an ultimatum that Eztli utterly ignored. “Stop it!” Ingrid repeated, only for another splash to convince her that pacifism had never been an option. Her mask of self-control slipped and turned into a sneer of anger. “Fine!”

Only then did Ingrid begin to retaliate with a splash of her own. She lacked my or Eztli’s experience, but she was both a fast learner and a sore loser. She would not accept defeat. Soon Ingrid and Eztli ignored me as they waged a battle of their own; a spectacle that seemed to amuse even the mighty Chikal.

“That looks… that looks fun,” Nenetl commented shyly.

“Do you want to try?” I asked her. “I will fight you if you want.”

“Oh, uh…” She smiled sweetly. “I would never dare…”

Too much, too soon. “How about a patolli game?” I suggested. I carefully avoided mentioning the tumi, in case it woke up bad memories. “I will have guards bring in a board and we could play in the water.”

My suggestion caught Chikal’s interest. “Patolli, you say?”

“You play it?” I asked.

“I prefer more strategic games, but I do not mind playing that one,” Chikal replied, much to my surprise. The amazon queen sent a brief glance at Ingrid’s and Eztli’s childish feud. “The Nightkin is right. We should try to get along.”

There might be room for diplomacy after all.

I suddenly realized I’d never spent time with all of my consorts at the same time that did not revolve around work. I’d enjoyed more personal interactions with each of them, some of them intimate, but not with all four.

Perhaps I should do this more often, I thought as I focused on the delightful feeling of warm waters flowing on my skin. I’ve spent so much time focusing on the other matters that I forgot we’re all on the same sinking boat.

“Oh?” As I expected, the possibility of playing a board game put Nenetl in a good mood. “Oh, that would be great. The more players we have, the better.”

“Then say no more,” I said. “I will have one brought to us immediately.”

Considering the night ahead of me, I welcomed a breath of fresh air.