Fishing

The Sun gradually sank toward the west, dyeing the sky a pale gold.

Xolotl sat cross-legged atop a hill, gazing at the scattered wisps of cooking smoke in the distance. There lay golden villages beneath the setting sun, and golden bean fields amid the farmlands. Everything was so peaceful.

Yet time seeped through that peace. The golden clouds silently deepened, condensing into waves of crimson cloud. Before long, before the setting sun fell into darkness, Xolotl raised his head again and saw only a blood-red sky.

The negotiations with Guamare had come to nothing. Seeing that it was already afternoon, Totek did not hurry to split up the troops to plunder. Instead, he had the warriors join the militia and build a large camp on the hills several miles from the city.

The legion rested peacefully, as if utterly unguarded, waiting for guests from afar.

The night passed quietly without incident.

Early the next morning, Xolotl rose before dawn, put on a light robe, and went to find Avet, who was still sleeping, to ask about the day's plans.

Avet blinked his bleary eyes, rubbed his face, and complained.

"Main God! This early? Xolotl, stop bothering me. I lay in ambush all night and caught nothing. Let me get some proper sleep now."

"Avet, what is today's plan? Is the army really going to scatter and plunder the villages?"

Xolotl wore no feathered crown, revealing his delicate, handsome features. There was still some youthfulness in his face, but his profile had already taken on a resolute cast, and his eyes were full of stubborn determination. To an onlooker, he was a striking and steadfast young man.

The youth sat cross-legged beside Avet. After waiting for a while without an answer, he thought for a moment, then reached out and poked his teacher's nose with a finger.

Avet's nostrils twitched, and then he could not help sneezing. At last, he woke up.

"Hey! Xolotl, stop messing around. Plundering the villages is certain, but there's another plan later. Just follow me. We're going fishing together."

With that, he pulled the thin cotton blanket over his head, rolled over, and fell back into a deep sleep.

Somewhat helpless, Xolotl could only get up and return to his quarters. He put on his feathered crown and Celestial Dog priestly robes, becoming once more a solemn and noble priest. Then he sat cross-legged in the center of the camp, waiting for the commander-in-chief's orders.

Before long, the camp's warriors began to move. Xolotl first saw a thousand ordinary warriors put on tiger-head feathered helmets and tiger-patterned leather armor, masquerading as Jaguar Warriors. Then he saw two thousand militia change into warriors' battle robes and mismatched leather armor, hurrying out of camp under the lead of genuine warriors.

Next, Totek called out five warrior battalions in succession, sending them off in different directions. Thus, only the thousand elite Jaguar Regiment troops and two warrior battalions remained in the camp. From the walls of Guamare City, however, the camp appeared to hold only a thousand warriors and two thousand militia.

Afterward, Totek had more than a dozen warriors carry bright banners to the nearest hilltops and wait. The moment they saw the Jaguar Regiment leave camp, they were to raise the banners at once and summon the distant ambushers.

It was already noon when the first wisp of blue smoke rose from a nearby village, and Avet finally woke. Unhurriedly washing and dressing, he put on his formal Sun Stone cloak and walked toward Xolotl with a smile.

Xolotl, meanwhile, was staring heavily at the distant village.

By then, the flames had grown into a roaring blaze. Thick smoke billowed from the fire. Figures flickered in the distance, along with silhouettes of warriors swinging weapons. People continually fell within his sight, and faint howls and cries carried on the wind. At last, scattered crowds burst from the dust wreathed in smoke and fire, running toward Guamare City several miles away.

Xolotl rose to his feet, watching columns of thick smoke gradually rise all around, some near and some far, while more and more civilians fled toward Guamare City. An indescribable ache filled his heart, yet he had no way to speak before Avet seized his shoulder.

"Oh, Xolotl, my student, is your heart made of soft cotton cloth?"

Having spent so much time with the youth, Avet had become increasingly less proper. He chuckled as he spoke, utterly unconcerned with slaughter and death.

"Tsk, tsk! You feel sad even seeing the Otomi People suffer. Where is the cold and impartial god of death and rebirth, Xolotl? You're simply the kind-hearted, weeping goddess of rivers and lakes, Chalchiuhtlicue."

Xolotl looked toward Commander-in-Chief Totek and pressed his lips together in silence. He wanted to speak with the commander-in-chief, hoping they could kill fewer people and spare the women and children.

"Main God! Don't go. Totek has no mind to discuss these villagers with you right now."

Avet smiled and placed his other hand on the youth's shoulder as well, turning them face-to-face.

"Don't worry. Today's target isn't these villages."

"The real killing is swift and silent. It looks lively from afar now, but it's only one or two hundred warriors leading two thousand militia around to set fires. Not many will die. Think about it—if the legion truly meant to strike, how could it let so many people escape toward Guamare City?"

Xolotl froze, gradually calming the emotions brought from another age. Though those emotions surfaced less and less often, they remained deeply carved into his soul, impossible to erase. Deep in his heart, there had always been a softness. That lingering softness, that regard for "people," was also the greatest difference between him and everyone of this age.

Xolotl pondered for a moment before asking calmly.

"So this is bait? We've laid an ambush? Avet, was this your idea?"

Hearing that, Avet gave Xolotl an approving look and smiled as he nodded.

"Correct. This was my idea. Three thousand warriors are lying in wait in the camp, including a thousand elite Jaguars. In the mountains behind the camp, to the left and right, there are two thousand warriors each, half an hour from here. And in the woods outside Guamare City, a quarter-hour away, there are another thousand warriors. Everything is ready. We're just waiting for the fish to bite!"

After that, Xolotl and Avet sat with their legs stretched out in the center of camp, leaning against the great central tent as they quietly waited for the big fish to bite. Commander-in-Chief Totek stood motionless in the distance, like a statue.

A thousand Jaguar Warriors also sat quietly in dozens of tents at the camp's center. These elite veterans placed their throwing spears and shields at their feet, their war clubs strapped across their backs, conserving their strength with relaxed expressions.

There were a thousand warriors on each side of the camp. Half had furled their banners and silenced their drums, while the other half put on an appearance of lax guard duty. The Mexica Warriors waited silently, like tigers and leopards hunting in the jungle.

The largest "fish" they hoped might appear was the five thousand Otomi warriors and twenty thousand militia from the city attacking together. That was the limit of the net.

If the Otomi People mobilized their entire army, the three thousand warriors in camp would immediately hold the camp's defenses, while the hilltops summoned reinforcements. Then the five thousand ambushing warriors would converge from three sides, gathering beneath the camp and crushing the enemy completely.

Yet at that moment, no one knew whether the fish would bite, or how large it might be. Xolotl quietly watched the smoke drift across the distant sky as the Sun sank westward.

Only when the Sun had tilted westward, with barely more than an hour left before sunset, did Xolotl hear a sudden uproar. The city-state's gates several miles away abruptly flew open, and over two thousand warriors surged toward the camp.

Totek finally moved. After observing for a while, he first had the thousand Mexica Warriors hold the camp firmly, watching as the Otomi warriors outside broke through the wooden palisade and smashed open the wooden gate, then fought the guards in a tangled mass at the breach.

Totek then waited a full quarter-hour, watching dozens of warriors fall on each side. Only after seeing Guamare City's gates shut tight, with no one else emerging, did he wave his hand and order Avet and the Jaguar Warriors to prepare.

Avet sighed in disappointment and said to Xolotl.

"Damn it. There must be an old Fox in Guamare City! The ones they sent out are all plainly dressed Commoner Warriors, probably related by blood or marriage to the villages outside the city. The rest of the Noble Warriors are almost certainly hiding in the city."

Xolotl thought for a moment, inexplicably recalling a roaring figure, and answered with a smile.

"Perhaps it's an old groundhog."

Avet shook his head and laughed as well.

"Forget it! No matter what, now that the fish has bitten, it's time to lift the rod."

Very soon, Avet gathered the Jaguar Warriors in the center of camp. These ace warriors and Military Nobility were all in their thirties and forties, at the golden height of experience and martial prowess. They held shields in their left hands and gripped atlatls loaded with throwing spears in reverse grip in their right, fully prepared for battle.

The moment the Jaguars moved out, the warriors on the hilltops immediately raised their banners to summon reinforcements. The two ambush forces at the rear rushed toward the camp at once, while the ambushers on the flank headed directly for Guamare City's gates, which they could reach in half an hour.

Totek had the warriors at the camp gate withdraw to both sides, and more than a thousand Otomi warriors poured in one after another. The gathered First Otomi Warrior Battalion formed a bulging semicircle at the front of the camp.

Seeing the enemy's concentrated salient, Avet immediately swept his hand down. The drums of attack rang out in an instant. The Jaguar Warriors formed into companies of a hundred, charging row after row toward the camp gate to hurl their pointed wooden spears. Then they tucked their atlatls at their waists, swiftly drew their war clubs, and spread to both sides to engage.

From barely twenty or thirty meters away, the throwing spears screamed to their highest speed. In an instant, they tore through the Otomi warriors' leather armor; some even pierced through armor and body, striking the arms of warriors behind them. The struck warriors immediately fell like fawns. Some died at once, while others struggled on the ground before being trampled to death.

Xolotl stood stunned in place, shaken by the power of so many throwing spears at such close range. By the time the thousand Jaguar Warriors had finished throwing, two hundred dead Otomi warriors already lay at the camp gate. The hit rate was terrifying.

The brutal casualties in such a short span sent the morale of the First Otomi Warrior Battalion plummeting. As the Jaguar Warriors entered the fight, their superb martial skill, terrifying tiger heads, and fearsome roars battered the Otomi warriors' morale without cease. Very soon, the enemy warriors inside the camp were on the verge of collapse.

Commander-in-Chief Totek saw the opening and immediately dispatched the thousand warriors who had furled their banners and silenced their drums as reserves. Large groups of warriors burst out through the damaged palisades on both sides, beginning to clamp down from behind on the two thousand hooked fish like the jaws of an opening serpent. Once the ambushers arrived, it would become a beautiful annihilation battle.

News of the Jaguar Regiment's appearance rapidly spread among the Otomi warriors. Outside the camp, the Otomi People realized they had fallen into an ambush and cried out in panic. The morale of the second warrior battalion fell swiftly as well.

"Primal God! It's an ambush, an Aztec trap!"

Seeing the Mexica Warriors thrusting out from both flanks, as well as the ambushers appearing in the distance, the Otomi warrior battalion commander outside the camp turned pale in horror. He made his decision at once and blew the retreat conch. Then he threw down his battalion's war banner, turned around, and fled first.

"Dee-dee-dee!"

The conch sounded, and the Otomi warriors on the perimeter immediately began a panicked yet practiced retreat. They swiftly scattered in all directions, ruthlessly abandoning the battalion still fighting within the camp.

The First Otomi Warrior Battalion had already suffered severe losses under the throwing spears. Now, relying on the narrow camp gate, they were desperately holding back the thousand elite Jaguar Regiment troops. But when their flanks were exposed and the protruding Mexica Warriors struck them in a pincer attack, Otomi morale collapsed at once!

"Gods! Ancestors! It's over! It's all over!"

The Otomi warriors threw down their war clubs and fled, melting like ice and snow beneath the three-sided assault. The battle swiftly entered the stage of hunting down the routed and pursuing the defeated. Three thousand Mexica Warriors charged out of the camp, slaughtering scattered fugitives in every direction while closely pursuing the retreating battalions that still maintained formation and organization.

The slaughter began and ended swiftly, less than half an hour after the Jaguar Warriors attacked! The enemy had collapsed too quickly; the ambushing Alliance Warriors had not even managed to complete the encirclement. The fish they had planned for was not only small—they had caught only half of it.

The pursuit lasted a quarter-hour before darkness completely fell. Under cover of night, the Otomi warriors vanished into the familiar mountains and forests. The Mexica Warriors guarded the Captives they had taken and gave up the chase in frustration.

A quarter-hour of standoff, half an hour of slaughter, then another quarter-hour or half-hour of pursuit. This easy ambush battle had taken only an hour or so. Fewer than fifty Mexica soldiers had died, including three Jaguar Warriors.

The badly defeated Otomi People left behind more than three hundred warrior corpses and over five hundred Captives. More than a thousand others scattered into the darkness, likely to flee back to Guamare City at some point in the night—or escape far away entirely.

Avet and Xolotl looked at each other and smiled bitterly in helplessness. They had cast such a huge net, yet only scooped up a few little fish and shrimp—not nearly enough to fill their bellies.

After a moment, Avet shook his head and laughed.

"Ha! That old Fox in the city is ruthless. He chose the time just before nightfall, probably calculated it all out in advance—using so many warriors as kindling!"

Xolotl considered it briefly and soon understood the scheme behind it.

"That old groundhog is ruthless. The city should hold out to the bitter end now. I'm afraid no one will come out to fight again."

The two sighed together once more. One sighed for the warriors within the city, the other for the civilians outside it. The blood-red earth sank into silence beneath the darkness, while an even greater tide of blood was about to descend.

Then the night gradually deepened, and stars lit the sky. Everyone lost themselves in the beauty of the night heavens, temporarily forgetting everything.

Thus the night passed without further incident, save for simple funerals.