Trade and Religion, A Silhouette of the Lake Capital

The sky neared dusk. Rippling light reflected the red sun, and the Lake Capital shone in the evening glow, like a magnificent painting by the Main God. The expansion of the Great Temple pyramid was about to end; its sixty- or seventy-meter tower had grown ever more towering, like a god's throne in the mortal world.

Gilim wore a plain long robe and a dark cloak, with only a scant few guards at his side, and made his way toward the palace. Though he now held the honored position of Cihuacoatl and was the Alliance's most important royal adviser, he still lived simply and kept a low profile.

After years in intelligence work, he had long since grown used to pressing his personal presence to the lowest point at any time. Now, as he walked along the bustling streets of the capital and stepped through the shadows of dusk, it was as if he were crossing an empty wilderness. No one noticed his existence, much less recognized his identity.

The chief intelligence officer passed through the thriving market, silently sizing up the merchants coming and going, observing their clothing, expressions, and movements. The New Year celebration in mid-January had ended long ago, and the envoys who had come from the various states to deliver tribute had all returned, but merchants from every tribe under heaven still lingered in the capital.

As the Mexica Alliance grew powerful, the wealth of the world gathered here. The great nobles had enough financial strength to squander, and that gave rise to flourishing trade. The Alliance itself produced large amounts of obsidian, gold and silver, salt, grain, cotton cloth, and spices, while the tribes in all directions paid tribute in furs, tobacco, feathers, shells, rouge, jade, and gold and silver ornaments.

Copper from the western