"Praise the Main God, Huitzilopochtli! Give yourselves to god, and fight for god!"
Night lay heavy and dark. Facing the sudden encirclement by the wasteland tribes, Zuwaro's hands and feet trembled, fear rising in his heart. He reached out, gripped the Sun Hummingbird amulet at his chest, and fought to summon his courage, praying and shouting loudly.
"Get ready, all of you! Follow me and cut our way back to the ships!"
The camp was not far from the anchored fleet. He had already prepared himself for a bloody fight. He would lead the hundred-odd warriors and sailors who had landed to break through the hundreds of enemies surrounding them on all sides at any cost, and return to the ships overnight.
"Hm? Huitzil-opochtli? Hummingbird, the left side? The sage chief seated at the head?"
Yet when he heard Zuwaro's prayer and shout, a fierce-looking headman wearing a feathered crown, his face covered in tattoos, walked out from among the several hundred tribal warriors with a throwing spear in hand. His gaze was sharp as he stared at the Sun Hummingbird amulet around Zuwaro's neck, then studied the priestly robe painted with divine patterns, confusion and surprise showing on his face. After several breaths, he finally spoke, but in the ancient Uto-Aztecan language.
"Huichol, Wixárika, Teopan Tribe. We, the Huichol People, the Teopan Tribe, follow the guidance of blood and the eagle. You, the tribe on the ships, are also a branch of the Huichol People, following the guidance of the divine hummingbird?"
Hearing the headman's words, the newly appointed Priest Zuwaro stood frozen on the spot. Though the other man's language was strange, he could understand it, and it was even closer to the Mexica tongue than the Purepecha Language of the lake region. Zuwaro's thoughts raced. Remembering the