NOVPUBThe wind of January came from the north, bearing the sorrow of frost. It sobbed as it flew low, carrying the unique freshness of the highlands, gently lifting into a dirge over the lake of Patzcuaro.
Amid the weeping of the wind, the Mexica scout Necali crouched low, hidden among the reeds at the lakeside, scrutinizing the enemy capital city along the shore. As a warrior directly under the royal family, his vision was excellent; he was adept at small-unit combat, agile as a leopard, and even had a basic understanding of numerical measurements... He was almost the perfect candidate for a scout! If there was one flaw, it was that his swimming skills were average at best.
At that thought, Necali spat hatefully toward the lake. During the last water battle on Lake Yuriria, he was first forced into the water by several militia, then someone kicked him viciously in the midsection, causing him to choke on water, and he nearly drowned dishonorably in the lake. Now, just the sight of the deep Great Lake made him tremble with fear.
"Tch, damn Tarasco Kingdom, nothing but lakes everywhere! Once His Highness Xiulote conquers this place, sooner or later he will turn these lakes into chinampas and grant them to valiant warriors!"
Coming from the direct service of the royal family, Necali had been following His Highness for less than a year. But at that moment, like thousands of other royal warriors, his heart was filled with admiration and obedience to His Highness.
"Since the campaign began last May, our army has now surrounded the Huayamo Fortress and is approaching the enemy capital. His Highness is invincible in combat, like the incarnation of a god, and has even invented many strange weapons, truly a great commander-in-chief!... What’s more, His Highness always values common-born warriors and has promoted many commoners to nobility... If I perform a great service, I might also receive the reward of a chinampa and be ennobled as a respected military noble!"
A radiant smile emerged on Necali’s face, his eyes sparkling with bright desire. After a moment, he vigorously shook his head, his expression turning resolute and murderous as he looked toward the lakeside capital city.
"In the past few days, many fancy nobles left the city; it’s a pity there were no hands to seize one to interrogate about military intelligence... The north and east gates are closed, and the west gate near the lake is too. There’s dust rising behind the gates, potentially they’re filling them with earth and stone... There are many barbarians on the city walls, constantly making a racket... Eh? It seems I can understand what they’re saying, something about ’corn,’ ’liquor,’ ’women’?..."
Necali listened closely for a while and found that these barbarians’ language was actually quite similar to the Mexica language, even more understandable than the Tarasco people’s speech. He didn’t ponder the reasons behind this nor knew the history buried in the wind. He just sniffed the air, faintly catching the scent of food, which made him somewhat hungry. Hmm, they even have a midday meal; it seems the Tarasco people are not short on food.
Then, Necali furrowed his brow, gesturing with his hands in front of his eyes.
"One man high, two men high... five men high, six men high... Pah, the Tarasco people built the city wall so high—it’s like an old turtle in the river! The people on the walls look so tiny from here... Ah, that man... that man looks familiar?"
With eyes like an eagle, Necali stared intently at the Weizti on the city wall, recognizing his ever-unchanging headband, his memory suddenly crystallized. Then, the young scout erupted with fury, spitting once more.
"It’s you, cunning Black Fish! When I catch you, I’ll press you to death under the water! Hmph, the city even harbors old veterans who’ve been in naval battles, which means they’ll be cautious about new weapons."
Necali frowned again, counting off on his fingers.
"Escaped nobles, stationed barbarians, sealed gates, towering walls, plentiful food, experienced veterans... Ah, this capital city seems quite difficult to take!"
With that thought, Necali looked around the Great Lake again. In his line of sight were the trees that had been nearly all chopped down, enemy ships patrolling and weaving, the stray floating corpses, emaciated elders and children, alongside the desolate and silent villages... After a long pause, he shook his head and once again bent two fingers.
"Hmm, inside the city all are soldiers, outside are but ghosts!"
After counting on his fingers again, Necali swiftly stood up. Lastly, he took one final, lingering look at Weizti on the city wall, then turned and headed north, back to the encampment surrounding Huayamo.
Traveling alone is always quick and hurried. Necali moved by day and night, silently, only killing a few wild dogs with blood-red eyes. These wild dogs, having tasted human flesh, attacked lone travelers, leaving bones full of bite marks in the wilderness. Unlike the weak refugees, an elite warrior with a few precise slashes would easily chop them into pieces, adding new fertilizer to this desolate yet fertile land.
It took only three days of travel before the Mexica camp appeared once again before scout Necali’s eyes. Inside the camp, the flag of the Black Wolf Marshal flew high, guarded by thousands of stern warriors. Outside, spread out for ten miles, were patrolling squads and the Huayamo Fortress, which was nearly encircled.
Necali rubbed his eyes and took a closer look, then burst out with a deep cheer. The Huayamo Fortress was now covered with Mexica flags, patterns of hummingbirds and sun waving in the wind—the fortress had been captured!
"Praise the Chief Divine! He has granted us victory in war, and we spread the glory of the divine for Him!"
Necali bowed his head, praying devoutly for a moment. Then, he took out the scout’s token and passed through the patrolling warriors, directly into the Commander-in-Chief’s tent. Inside the tent, the august presence of His Highness was holding a novel quill pen, writing in heavenly script and symbols.
