Father

The Holy City's Palace Shrine Complex was divided into two levels. The guards on the lower level wore Beast Helmets and yellow robes, their battle attire patterned with Jaguars and Eagles. The white-robed Assistant Priests wore solid-colored cloaks or shoulder capes, passing back and forth with wooden boards painted with images.

The three climbed the granite steps to the second level of the Palace Shrine Complex. As they passed before an exceptionally tall palace, Xolotl vaguely heard fierce arguing from within. The words "war" and "Otomi People" seemed to be among them.

At the palace entrance hung an enormous, multicolored tapestry. At its center sat the Sun God, the God of War, the Mexica Guardian Deity Huitzilopochtli—Main God of the Mexica Alliance! He raised a Scepter and Shield, his figure extraordinarily towering. Long dark-green feathers covered the back half of the Main God's body, radiating outward like the sun.

Beside the tapestry at the hall entrance stood two guards wearing wolf heads and black robes.

One of them gave Acap a questioning look. Acap pointed at Olorosh and Xolotl, then pointed to the right. The guard nodded in understanding and even gave Xolotl a toothy, "ferocious" smile through the gap in the wolf's mouth. Xolotl rolled his eyes. This was Elvi, a guard he had known since childhood. Beside him, Olorosh was heavy with thoughts, and no one knew what he was thinking.

After the guards let them through, Acap led the two toward the shrine complex on the right. After thinking for a moment, Xolotl asked softly.

"What are the Priest Elders discussing in the Main God's temple?"

"Don't rush. You'll know soon enough!"

Acap smiled but didn't answer. It also seemed that, all at once, he had something on his mind.

Tapestries fluttered, and the corridor stretched onward. Before long, the three arrived at another solemn side hall. At its entrance hung another enormous tapestry, depicting a deity with both hands raised high. The deity had a head that was half human, half dog, gazing up at the sky. He had a bright-red tongue, deep-black feathers, and a feathered crown. His slightly crouched posture made him seem ready at any moment to leap from his scarlet divine throne and pounce upon the heavens.

This was Xolotl, God of Lightning and Death, the night-star god who escorted the sun, and the Feathered Serpent's twin brother.

The side hall's guards were much more welcoming, crowding around to ask questions.

"Little Xolotl, you're back? How was the hunt this time? Did you get blood on yourself? Did you catch any Captives?"

Xolotl nodded without saying much. He simply followed Assistant Priest Acap forward in silence.

The group entered the side hall. Directly before them stood a low stone table, upon which rested a wooden board. A burly man in his thirties sat cross-legged on the ground. He wore a red robe painted in brilliant colors, a dark-green feather crown, and silver wrist guards. Holding a wooden pen with a tip made from tough hair, he dipped it in black pigment and carved what seemed half writing, half drawing: two symbols on the board.

Xolotl stepped forward and examined the square symbol in front. It showed a Shield and a club. The square symbol behind it showed a corpse wrapped in white cloth. He had learned writing from the man before him and knew the meaning of these two pictographs: "war" and "death"!

The burly man looked up, revealing a resolute face with sharply defined features. He had thick brows, a high nose bridge, and a confident bearing. His eyes shone brightly. First, his gaze fell upon Xolotl, and a smile formed at the corner of his lips. Then he looked at Acap and nodded. Finally, he looked at Olorosh behind them and burst into laughter.

"Welcome back, my warrior! And welcome, my son! You've returned at just the right time."

The man sprang to his feet, revealing his tall, muscular body. Then he spread his arms in welcome.

"War is about to begin!"

"Good news, Captain Xoloc! When? Who are we fighting?"

Olorosh raised his arms in return, asking with excitement and surprise.

"A few days ago, a messenger came from Tenochtitlan with the new Tlatoani's command: the king wants us to begin mobilizing! Next month, the coronation war will begin. The target of this campaign is the Otomi People to the northwest, on the grounds that they refused to pay tribute to the Alliance."

The burly Xoloc smiled heartily and slapped forearms with Olorosh. Then he glanced at Xolotl and asked in a deep voice.

"Olorosh, how did the captive hunt go this time?"

"I took Xolotl and the recruits north to visit the Huastec. We caught several dozen Dog-Kin Savages. The Huastec were fairly obedient, and their food stores were still sufficient. It looked like nothing major would happen in the northeast anytime soon."

Jaguar Olorosh considered, then added.

"Xolotl's stamina and martial skill are both good. During this operation, he took down a trainee warrior. But he asks too many questions—he wants to know everything!"

At that, Olorosh pulled a bitter face, shook his head, and sighed.

"Numbers, principles... I'm a warrior who kills and fights. How could I possibly answer all that?"

"Haaha! If he can stump my foremost Captain of Warriors, it seems this boy has improved quite a bit."

Xoloc laughed heartily and patted Xolotl's head. Mm, that hurt a little.

"Captain, is our city-state sending troops this time? How many?"

"Of course! As the king's kin and a branch of the royal house, our Holy City will certainly send troops in response! As for the exact number, the Priest Elders have been discussing it all morning. We should know once the High Priest returns. But the king has already announced that Tenochtitlan will mobilize three elite Xiquipilli, the Eight-Thousand Regiments. Texcoco and Tlacopan will each mobilize one elite regiment, while the villages under the three cities will mobilize five commoner regiments."

"What! The three capital cities will mobilize ten Eight-Thousand Regiments altogether? Eighty thousand men?"

At this, young Xolotl sucked in a sharp breath. Eighty thousand warriors?

"Heh, Xolotl's mathematics really are good!"

Olorosh praised him, though surprise also showed on his face.

"Counting the other city-states responding as well, just as the rainy season arrives, the king intends to mobilize an army of one hundred thousand men to gnaw at the Otomi People's mountain cities in the north? That isn't a wise choice."

"Yes. That choice isn't very good."

The burly Xoloc's smile faded, and he slowly nodded.

"Xalco State in the lake region can mobilize at least two regiments. Then Huaxtepec and Cuauhnahuac in the south—High Mountain City and Salt Lake City—will each send one regiment. Hueypochtlan in the north, meaning the two regiments near Gorge Gold City, will likely both be drafted. In the west, Tepanicapan, Tolocan, and Lazico—Sour Wood City, Gold Mountain City, and Sun City—can provide at least four regiments. As for the east, troops can't be moved because of the need to guard against the Tlaxcalan. By my count, that should make twenty Eight-Thousand Regiments."

"Of course, more than half of those twenty Eight-Thousand Regiments will be Militia, responsible for the army's logistics. The Samurai actually fighting at the front will number at most ten regiments. I estimate there'll be seventy or eighty thousand Samurai at the front, with nearly one hundred thousand Laborers handling logistics."

"Captain, there's definitely no need to worry about the head-on battlefield. Even if every Otomi city-state sends reinforcements, they'll only have seventy or eighty thousand men, and at least half will be Militia. Their fighting strength simply can't compare to our elite Samurai!"

As he spoke, Olorosh confidently thumped his chest. That was the assurance of a seasoned Jaguar Warrior, one who had fought and killed on the battlefield!

"But this distant campaign will have to sustain the food consumption of nearly two hundred thousand people! Food for the frontline Samurai will all depend on transport from the rear. In such a damp rainy season, the food consumed each day can't be counted, and the food lost in transit will be no small amount!"

"The Otomi villages in the north have always been poor, so there isn't much food to plunder. Once the Otomi People hide within their city-states and hold fast, the war could drag on without end. Then we'll be in trouble!"

"Olorosh, you're right. That's exactly where my worries lie!"

Xoloc unconsciously reached out and pinched his son Xolotl's cheek. The boy's face twitched. Mm, that still hurt.

"But the Huastec tribes in the northeast provide a great deal of tribute every year. Moving against them would bring neither justification nor benefit. The City-State Alliance of the Cloud Tribes in the south has been fairly obedient these past years. Besides, they're linked together—throw in one stone, and it will surely stir up ripples across the whole pond!"

"The Tarasco Kingdom in the west has great fighting strength. We even lost to them two years ago. And there was no need to mention the Tlaxcalan in the east. To fight them, we'd have to mobilize everyone and wage a divine war to the death. The Alliance's nobles aren't prepared for that yet. After calculating every angle, the king probably had no choice but to select the weaker Otomi People in the north!"

"Ha! When all's said and done, it's still bullying the weak and fearing the strong."

Hearing this, Olorosh muttered in dissatisfaction.

"As king of the Alliance, how can he lack a warrior's heart? In an Alliance that reveres martial strength, without a commander's resolve and a warrior's courage, how can he win the people's respect?"

At this point, Olorosh paused, then lowered his voice.

"Captain, the new king's prestige hasn't been established yet. If he made up his mind, found the courage to fight our old enemies, the Tlaxcalan, or the powerful Tarasco—even if he lost, the nobles wouldn't have much to say. Because before the campaign, no one would have expected certain victory!"

"But now he's decided to fight the weak yet cunning Otomi People. There isn't much to gain from this war, while the nobles' expectations are high. Never mind losing—if he wins too little, everyone will be dissatisfied!"

After hearing this analysis, Xoloc agreed deeply. Smiling, he nodded in approval.

"Olorosh, my warrior! With your abilities, you'd be more than qualified to command an elite Samurai regiment!"

"Haaha! Too bad our city-state doesn't have eight thousand Samurai for me to lead!"

Olorosh laughed at that. He didn't bother being modest, merely making the joke lightly.

"Don't worry! You will someday, I guarantee it!"

After Xoloc said this, the two exchanged a glance and burst out laughing together, bold and carefree.

The great hall was deep, and the tapestries fluttered. Young Xolotl sat in the hall, listening with rapt attention, when he saw Acap walk in from outside. No one knew when he had gone out.

Young Assistant Priest Acap wore a smile as he softly announced to everyone.

"Captain Xoloc, the High Priest has finished the elders' meeting. He's on his way here now!"