Xochiyohua—Aztec princess

Chapter 1   The couple

War was in the air.
I could smell it even when my husband made love to me.  He was a good lover and I loved him dearly.  He hunted and helped to tend the field, for our numbers were not as great as my former people, the Aztecs, once an ally of my husband’s tribe, now their arch enemies.  Even when I came from the other side, he did not discard me, nor turn me over to the high priests of the tribe to be sacrificed or executed, as some of the other husbands with Aztec wives had done.  Instead, he had taught me many things taught him by the elders drawing from the wisdom of his many generations of ancestors.  He even taught me how to use a bow and to fight with clubs though I always lost when it came to hand-to-hand fighting.  My strength was weak compared to his.
If there would be war, he would have to fight as a warrior.  And I would go with him.  I could not imagine how I could slay my former people.  What should I do if I found myself facing Quahtiatoa, my elder brother, or my beloved Tangaxoan, two years my junior?  Could I kill them in cold blood even if I prevail?  But I could not have prevailed, unless it was done with an arrow fitted with an obsidian tip.  Then, I would fall at their hands, and allowed myself be skinned.  I closed my eyes and was imagining my two brothers cutting me open and peeling my skin off, just as Cocijo-eza made another thrust with his loins.  I moaned.
“Look at me!  Look at me! Xochiyohua!” my husband demanded.
I opened my eyes and focused on his broad chest.  Sweat was trickling down his skin and flowed all the way towards the point where our bodies joined.   His hard nipples moved closer and then drew back with his every up and down movement.  I found it hypnotizing, very like the effect after chewing the dried leaves the medicine man frequently gave us. Cocijo-eza was close to his heavens now, I could see that.  Both his hands were cupping my tits; my nipples had become hard.  I wanted him to suck me so much but I did not say anything.  To be told how to make love could be taken as humiliating to a man’s pride. I wished he understood me better though I always wanted to copulate with him.  I could still remember my first night with him.  I was one of those given as presents after the alliance was sealed.  I had come from a noble warrior family in Tenochtitlan, and hence was matched with a member of the royal house of the Zapotec people.  Zapotec was a name we Aztecs called them.  They called themselves Ben-Zoa, or the Cloud People.  That was three years ago.

Things had changed.  From allies we had turned on each other towards war.  To my former people, it was a flower-war for honor and sacrificial victims, so that the sun could continue its daily climb and to fight the war against the moon and stars.  To the people I lived with now, it was survival.

He was forcing my legs to open wider, to accept him and let him plant his seeds, not that we hoped to bear him his offspring.  I had been pronounced as childless soon after I wed him by the medicine man.  Instead, his concubines had borne him three sons and a daughter.  That was the reason why he agreed for me to accompany him into battle, to die or be sacrificed along his side.  I obliged and arched my back so that my breasts could be brought closer to his mouth.  He took the hint now and sank his mouth onto the rosy nipples one by one.  Again, I moaned, this time out of genuine pleasure.

He was pleased and intensified his thrusts.  I bent back and guided his hands to roam over my sweat-covered nakedness. And then it came, flooding over my entire body and every inch of it shuddered.  Cocijo-eza gave a loud shout and grabbed my raven black hair and pulled me towards him.  I groaned at the pain but was immediately liberated by the joy.

He fell upon my body, both of us panting.  It was the best love-making I had in my life.  Now, I am ready to die.

Chapter 2   The Battle

We were drawn up in two lines of around a thousand men each.  I should say a thousand men and women as some wives and daughters had swelled our ranks to make up for the inferior number.  I was standing behind my husband, wearing a loin-cloth of sheer cotton and a vest made decorated with agate, lapis and topaz. covered my breasts.  I had a headband of red pheasant feathers mixed with those from a fighting cock.  Cocijo-eza had given me a belt studded with turquoise.  A short obsidian dagger hanged at my left.  This was more ceremonial than of practical use though.  I knew I had to rely on my bow and arrows to protect the honor of my husband.

Cocijo-eza and his brothers were dressed in their best.  Tall pheasant feathers rose proudly among eagles’ downs. There was gold lining on their belts and vests.  The shields were magnificently painted with jaguars and eagles.  The Zapotecs were of a proud breed.

But once compared with the Aztec hordes, our men were outshone as if the moon by the glorious sun.  Their warriors were covered with a close vest of quilted cotton. Although almost impenetrable the garment was very light. The wealthier chiefs often wore a thin layer of gold or silver instead of the vests. Covering this inner layer was a coat of extravagant feathers. Wooden helmets, made to look like the heads of animals, protected the skulls. The shields were made of woven reeds with feathers lining the rim. On the cover of some shields there were figures of some animals that represented different strengths. The exposed part of their bodies was painted in fiery colors.

The medicine men from both sides began their chants.

The aid of gods and goddesses were evoked to bring victory.  The promises of spoils in the form of gold and captives were promised to excite warriors to brave deeds.
Dust was kicked up by stamping feet and the beating of clubs on shields.  I could feel my heart-beats rose with eagerness, and silent fear.

Then, it came.

The Aztec mass charged towards our lines; a wall of blinding colors and swaying headdresses.  I took aim and let go an arrow and saw a young warrior sink to his knees.  I heard the cheers from those around me.  More arrows sang and more men fell. And then the wave broke against our wall of shields.

Our lines held firm.  Aztec clubs fell onto the shields and despite causing a few casualties, failed to break our lines.  Encouraged, our king raised his club and ordered a full counter-attack!

“No!” I shouted.  I knew too well the Aztec warriors could not be so easily vanquished.  “A trap!”

But it was too late.  Our young warriors, eager for victory and spoils, surged forward.  The solid lines melted into streams of pursuing boys.  I knew all were lost.  But there was no choice.  My husband had charged with the rest and I had to follow even now I knew the cost.

They sprang their trap so fast that before anyone knew what had happened, the battle turned into a slaughter.  Atzi, another childless Azti concubine beside me, screamed as an obsidian arrowhead found its way into her breast.  She arched back and fell, her headdress tumbling from her head.  More and more men and women fell.  Our lines were in total confusion and some began to fell back, only to be cut off by the merciless enemy.  I saw an Aztec petty-chief stood over Azti who was now twisting in agony on the ground. He ripped the vest from her, making her naked.  When he saw that she was beyond being made a slave or a sacrificial victim, clubbed out her brain.  I released arrow after arrow.  Men fell.  But my supply of arrows was also depleted.  I wheeled with the crowd.  There was no use for the bow now and I dropped it and pulled out the dagger, uncertain whether to fight or to kill myself with it.  I saw our men being either clubbed to death, or captured and tied and hurled to one side: a fruit harvest for the pyramids later.  I could no longer find Cocijo-eza.  Was he dead?  Had he fled to safety?  Suddenly I found myself standing in front of a face I knew: Huixtochuat, my elder sister!  She was magnificent in her battle dress.  Obviously she had not joined the army because of its lack of number.  Glory or death!

She recognized me too and swallowed hard.  Both of us knew what was expected of us.  Amid all the slaughter and confusion, we approached each other for the kill.  Hutztochuat fought well.  I lost my small round shield and my vest, my chest was bare and there was sweat all over my naked skin.  “Please, kill me now, sister…”I prayed.  She charged but then the gods smiled on me.  Her left foot stepped on the blood of Azti and slipped and I sank my blade into her side…

“Argh…”

“Hutztochuat, I am sorry. I am sorry.” I held her limp body.  She was still breathing but only barely.

“Thank you, Xochiyohua.  Thank you for giving me a warrior’s death. “She was panting for air.  “Now I will not go to the underworld, not the darkness and oblivion, but to join the ranks of the Sun God and fight along his side….”

“Huixtochihuat…” I held her close, oblivious to the chance of being slain at any moment.

“Finish me off, sister. “ she pleaded.

I looked into her eyes.  Then, I cut open her vest and exposed her proud tits.  I kissed them, one by one and she arched back to offer the opening to her heart.

I plunged my dagger into her left breast.  Her body stiffened as I drew the blade down, cutting across the ribs.  Blood oozed out of her tender mouth, her eyes grew misty.  I quickened my hands and finally reached her blobbing heart.

“Yes!” She murmured.

And I pulled her heart out!

Her body jerked one more time and then she was still.

I looked at the heart in my hand, the heart of my sister who had rocked me to sleep when I was small.  I wept and did not finch when strong hands grabbed the end of my black hair.  I knew someone was to club out my brain.  I no longer cared.  I let go and arched back so that he could see my face when he was to kill me.  Then our eyes locked.  It was Tangaxoan, my brother!

Chapter 3    The Sacrifice

We were kept in captivity for three days.  More than a quarter of our men had been slain or captured.  There were altogether five female prisoners.  While our fates were being decided, the Aztec warriors who had fought most bravely used our bodies to drain their lust.  I was taken by five men in turn, one of them being Tangaxoan.  To him, I was more a captured woman than a sister.  Besides, he had seen me kill Huixtochihuat and was set on vengeance.

“Where is Quahtiatoa?” I asked him after he was finished with me.

“Negotiating.”

“Negotiating?”

“Yes. Negotiating for your surrender, with your husband.” He hissed.

My eyes went wide open.  So, Cocijo-eza was alive!

I could not decide if it was tiding of joy or sorrow for me.  So, I wrapped the blanket given to me to cover my shameful body and hid my face.

After three days, peace was concluded.  The Zapotecs would send two of their most beautiful princesses to become concubines to the Aztec emperor.  Cocijo-eza, my husband, was to marry an Aztec princess as a symbol of friendship between the two peoples.

Half of the men would be released.  The other half would be sacrificed, befitting fate for warriors.

All the women, including me, were to die.

I accepted my fate without a murmur.

Only I and one other young girl were to be sacrificed on the top of the pyramid at dawn.  Only the best would be offered there.  The others would be sent to the back of the smaller temples where a ritual dance would be performed by them.  When they reached the zenith of ecstasy, their heads would be cut off.

They bathed us and rubbed oil onto our skins.  The other girl was a Mayan princess but since I could not speak her tongue, I did not know her name.  Nor did it matter.

After the cleansing, we were dressed up for the long climb to the top.  I was robed in vest of sheer gold threads and a white loin cloth that was nearly translucent so that my long tapered legs could be seen; a headgear of long white feathers graced my head. A ceremonial shield was attached to my left arm while my hands were perfumed.  The Mayan girl was similarly decorated with the exception that her headgear was of yellow and black feathers.

From the windows of our cells, we could see the long line of sentenced warriors lining up the long flight of stairs to the top.  The bright red feathers of the High Priests could be seen even from this long distance.  And now and then a mighty roar would rise as another heart was plucked, followed by a naked body rolling down the carved way down to the bottom where Aztec women made ready with stone knives to cut off limbs to serve on their dinner plates.

We would soon share the same fate.

The Mayan girl was trembling.  I held her close and kissed her tenderly on the neck.

“Fear not.  I will be behind you.”  I whispered.

I was not certain she understood.  But soon, she turned towards me and our lips sealed.  When we parted, she was no longer trembling.

Tangaxoan and one other warrior walked in and pointed at the entrance.  It was time to go.

We went out, and were marched up for slaughter.

Another cheer!  The body of a slain warrior without his heart rolled past us to its ultimate end.  I felt sweat all over my body.  I knew I was frightened.  But I also felt an immense joy!

We were closer now.  The people at the bottom of the structure seemed so minute.  It would be a long, steep roll.

The High Priest was waiting.  I knew him: Quahtiatoa!

I never knew my own brother had climbed so high up the social ladder.

It did not matter anyway.

The Mayan girl would go first.  ,Her headdress was removed and then her vest was taken off.  Her breasts sprang free.  They stretched out her limbs and placed her on the altar stone, dyed red from previous blood-letting.

Somebody offered a cup with green fluid inside.  I knew it was a kind of drug to lessen her pain.  She swallowed some and gulped.  Then, her limbs were held firmly.  Quahtiatoa raised his obsidian dagger high into the air with one hand and chanted.  The Mayan girl was moving her head left and right, her black hair sweeping the end of the altar with little gasps.

Then, the blade plunged down into her chest and made an ugly cut.  She screamed once and then with wide open eyes, watched my brother sliced open her tits and carved out her heart!

“Glory!” Quahtiatoa shouted as his assistants turned the body of the dead girl over and rolled it down the sliding way to the bottom.

I could see the trail of the crimson blood.

Once it reached the bottom, a priest cut off her head first.  It was then raced to another smaller temple where it would join the rack of skulls later, to be displayed at festivals and major sacrifices.  Mine would join hers later, at its side.

Now, it was my turn.

Meanwhile, I saw Quahtiatoa taking a step back and someone took over.  It was Tangaxoan.  My heart leapt with joy.

I embraced the last few seconds of my freedom.  Tangaxoan personally snatched away my vest and exposed my breasts while another young warrior removed my headgear.  I voluntarily stretched out my arms so that they could grab my limbs and carry me over their shoulders horizontally and place me onto the sticky sacrificial slab.

He then jerked away my loincloth.  I was now totally naked.  I could see the rise and fall of my own tits, the nipples dancing in the glittering sunlight.  My long hair was arranged to hang over the end of the altar and a light mountain wind was carrying it along.

I was so glad it was to be him, instead of Quahtiatoa, or others.  Now, I could see him as my final lover.

The rest happened quickly.

Tangaxoan used one hand to explore my breasts to find the right spot and then I felt the coldness of the blade as it sank into my chest.

Pain!  Oh, what pain!

I moaned and raised my chest to meet it, to let the blade cut deeper, to be cut open, to be destroyed….I could feel the blade gliding down towards my abdomen, I could hear my rib cage being cracked, I could taste the sticky warmth of my blood over my skin and out of my mouth…I could feel my heart, still pounding, being held and pulled….

Then it was off me….strange….why could I still see…or feel…..was it possible to remain conscious after one lost her heart?  I wanted to see it in my brother’s hands as he raised it towards the sky to the Sun God

There it was…my heart….my life….and I am so happy…..

“Almighty Sun accepts your sacrifice….Xochiyohua! Daughter of the Aztecs.” My brother chanted…

I felt my body being lifted, turned over and then the long roll all the way down to the bottom….I could see the waiting faces, the ready stone knives….

Good…..cut—me—up!