The sun set and the moon rose; in the blink of an eye, another two days had passed. The round moon climbed halfway into the sky, spilling watery moonlight. The mountains to the north, the fortress upon them, the long river to the south, the boats upon the river, and the sprawling Mexica camp between them all fell silent beneath the moonlit night, temporarily hiding the cruel slaughter, blood, and fire beneath a veil of peace.
Night lay deep. Xolotl sat cross-legged in the main tent of the central camp. Beside him was Ekat, the captain of his guards, responsible for grinding ink, while Nashu was nowhere to be seen.
"What a strange little fox! Two months ago she was doing everything she could to seduce me, yet these last two months she's been hiding and dodging..."
Xolotl glanced at the loyal, steadfast guard captain beside him, feeling an inexplicable trace of complaint in his heart.
Three months ago, after that night of "painting the world," he and Nashu had fooled around several times, rather tasting marrow and knowing its flavor. Yet lately, Nashu had been acting rather strangely, often saying she felt unwell and retiring very early at night. Xolotl doted on her somewhat and worried she might be ill, so he allowed it every time. But as a result, the one adding fragrance and grinding ink by night was no longer a slender red-sleeved beauty, but a sturdy warrior.
The warriors stood solemnly on guard, quiet and soundless. The blood at the entrance of the great tent had already been cleaned away. During this period, in order to command the legions nearby, Xolotl had not continued living in the comfortable Temple, but rested in the military camp instead. At this moment, bright moonlight fell from high above through