In the Tamoachan Jungle
The yaoquizque spend the night moving down the stream bed. Nochehuatl leads, breaking trail, while Xoco hangs back, protecting the rear. Yaotlquauhtli, Chipotle, and Centehua take turns pulling the travois on which Tecolotl lies. The injured warrior floats in and out of consciousness during the evening, but bears his injuries well and does not cry out.
As dawn comes, some five hours later, the wind dies and the party finds a suitable camping spot near the stream. Camp is set up quickly and efficiently, wet clothes are hung to dry, a watch is set, and everyone tries to get a bit of sleep.
It is several hours after everyone has bedded down - perhaps mid-day. Both Tonatiu and Ixlanticutli are in the sky, making the day quite hot and giving everything a slight reddish cast (Ixlanticutli is a dim red giant) but under the canopy of trees the party is safe from the harsh light and some of the heat, though the high humidity is somewhat unpleasant. Yaotlquauhtli is just beginning his watch, and Xoco is just ending hers, when through the noises of jungle life comes a thin, high roaring noise from above. Peering through a break in the foliage the two yaoquizque can see the vapor trails left by two Warrior Skins crossing the sky high above.
Glancing to Xoco, Yaotlquauhtli notes that she's seen the two passing skins as well. "Chantico," he mutters. Then, attempting to keep under the tree cover while moving as quickly and smoothly as possible given his abused limbs to where Nochehuatl lies sleeping, he taps the still form on the shoulder. "Nochehuatl, we've just been overflown by two Chantico Stone Motions. I'd wager our friends are looking for us."
Xoco nods silently. While Yaotlquauhtli moves to wake the team leader, Xoco cranes her neck to follow the mechs' exhaust trails -- a rather hopeless task through the thick dark canopy. She listens intently to the sounds overhead and around, trying to think. It's so hot, and with all the jungle life cocooning them, surely they won't show up on scans? Staying put is probably the best bet while they're being overflown, movement seeming more likely to attract detection. All the same, being ready never hurts. Very quietly, she assures herself that all her gear can be picked up and moved readily. Since they have very little, this is almost a given.
She frowns, still listening for the Warrior Skins' whisper and figuring their path in her head. That's the second time Chantico has sent not one, but two mechs at a time to hunt. At least, Yaotlquauhtli says it's Chantico again, and she has no reason to doubt his ears. Are they intercepting anything that flies in this area? Are they blockading Mictlantecutli? Or are they wasting so much power on a miserable shuttle and its small posse of wet-behind-the-ears yaoquizque? Whatever they are guarding (or looking for?), this must be what Lord Night Wind is really interested in.
She glances toward Yaotlquauhtli and Nochehuatl to see Fearless Leader's reaction.
Nochehuatl opens his eyes and frowns, but makes no other movement at first. "Hrmph," he finally grunts. "Someone's putting a lot of effort into this." He lifts his head slightly and looks around at the camp, noting Xoco's awareness. "If they're gone for the moment, we're going to need to move further from the stream bed. It's too convenient a road, for searchers as well as us," he mutters at Yaotlquauhtli. "Wake Centehua. I'll tell Chipotle." Catching Xoco's eye, he gestures at the little equipment and clothing they had around their camp and makes picking-up gestures, waiting to see if she understands. Then, very slowly, painfully slowly, he moves towards Chipotle, staying up against the trees.
Xoco nods and starts moving, as quietly as she can. As she picks up the gear, she wraps anything that is likely to send reflections, such as metallic parts or polished obsidian, in strips of cloth. Since their clothes have suffered and it's so hot in the jungle, it's not too hard to get the materials for this operation.
Xoco packs, while Nochehuatl wakes the others and gets everyone ready to move. The entire process takes about five minutes. By then a rumbling in the sky indicates that the Stone Motions are returning at lower altitude.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Xoco hisses between her teeth, very low. She shoulders her packed gear and moves softly towards the others to hear Nochehuatl's instructions.
Centehua moves towards a tree close to the others, pressing herself against it as much as possible. She looks to the sky and mutters under her breath, her knuckles turning white from her grip on her tree limb club. How can we run now, with them flying so low? Damned if we do, damned if we don't. If only we had a mech suit. She looks to the rest of the party, keeping one eye on the sky.
Chipotle starts awake as he is tapped on the shoulder. As quietly as possible he indicates it would be better to use the travois as a stretcher (requiring three people) until they are far enough away that the marks don't matter.
Nochehuatl nods. "Agreed. We need to back up the stream a little bit, so that it won't be too obvious where we went into the bush. We'll need to be very, very careful not to leave any trail for some distance, then we get to make a hard march."
Centehua, moving from the protection of the tree, moves over to help carry the travois. She continues to dart glances towards the sky and jungle, straining to hear any sounds of movement from either...
"I could take off on my own and create a diversion," Xoco whispers to Nochehuatl. "Walk in another direction, then meet you in Mictlantecutli," she adds wryly.
Nochehuatl frowns. Too fast, it's happening too fast. He looks around, picking out the spots with the densest canopy overhead, and points at them in turn rapidly. "Get somewhere with cover. Stand or squat; you'll take up less area than lying down. If they spot us and come down, break that way", with a gesture to the east, "and if we get separated... we'll have to meet back near the crash, it's the only landmark we've got." Even as he speaks, he kneels and picks up the travois, resting it against the side of a tree with particularly thick foliage, holding it and himself tight against the trunk.
Only then does he acknowledge Xoco. ""We don't split up unless it's absolutely necessary. With two of them, it may take more than one diversion anyway," he whispers to her. Then he freezes in place, eyes looking up for any sign of their pursuers.
Yaotlquauhtli nods silently to Nochehuatl in return, then leans casually against the nearest tree and waits to see what would happen. If only his war club were in better shape... Next trip he takes, he's wrapping it in protective cloth first.
The two Stone Motions rumble past a second time at an altitude of around 2,000 feet. They head southwest, almost fading from hearing, before turning around and lumbering back. As they pass overhead a second time the yaoquizque see that they have held their altitude. They travel northeast again, passing quickly from sight, but not from hearing.
"They may have a fair idea of our location," Chipotle whispers, "None of us have been particularly careful about tracks up to this point." Half to himself, "What makes us so valuable?"
He continues: "We will need to be extra careful with the travois. Perhaps covering Tecolotl with vegetation in case we cannot get to cover big enough for the three of us as well as the travois?" Chipotle starts looking around for something that can be used which won't show from above.
Xoco looks up at the powerful aeromechs' contrails, frowning. "Centehua, didn't you point out the wind was blowing to the northeast, earlier?" she murmurs. "This is where the Stone Motions are going as well... I think maybe we need to see what they are protecting, act as Lord Night Wind's eyes and ears." She makes a face, briefly, then looks at her companions.
Centehua nods her head before Xoco can finish. "I thought the same thing. We must see what is there!"
Nochehuatl, who has been listening to Chipotle's suggestions about the travois, turns to look at Xoco with a bit of surprise. "Yes... perhaps I've been blind to the signs." He pauses and thinks for a moment. "Well, we certainly need to move away from the stream, and northeast seems the best choice. Chipotle, your idea about covering the travois is a good one; see to it. If you find any nice large leaves, especially ones with a sharp smell to them, we can use them to bind our feet -- that will at least help to confuse our trail."
Nochehuatl then moves back the way they came, looking for the best place to leave the stream and move cross-country. He finally settles on one spot, and brings the others to it. "This will have to do... good stout branches, so we can move for a little ways above the ground. We need to be very careful not to break any branches, though."
Centehua smiles. "That will be no problem for a Hummingbird!" With that, she finds a vine she can use to tie her "war club" to her back and free her hands for the tasks ahead, being careful to disguise the broken vegetation. "How shall we carry the travois through the trees?" She asks it out loud, yet quietly, partially for herself, partially for the group.
Chipotle, who has already started to pull down some likely leaves, pauses at these words and looks hard at Nochehuatl. He waits for the leader to make clear his plan. Is the party on the ground carrying the travois going to be the decoy force while the others investigate to the northeast?
Nochehuatl smiles without humor. "With great difficulty, I'm afraid. We certainly won't be able to do it for any great distance, just far enough to break our trail, I hope. One person moves slightly ahead and we hand the travois forward to them, then someone else moves around them and we hand it on that much further. And if that proves to be impossible... we take him off the travois and I will carry him myself and hope that he suffers no further harm from it. We do this all very carefully, and whatever damage we do to the foliage we try to cover up. Beyond that, we will be in Lord Night Wind's hands."
In the distance, the rumble of the Stone Motions ceases.
Listening to the rather complex plan his comrades were coming up with, Yaotlquauhtli can't help thinking that it is rather a lot of trouble for something that probably won't help much. But then, he wasn't been lying when he said he was no general, maybe there is some tactical advantage to be gained that he can't see. Then, as the engine sound stops, he glances up at the canopy. "Well, that was unnatural," he mutters to himself. Turning to Nochehuatl he says, "Did you hear that? The engines just -- stopped."
Xoco's eyes widen. She nods her agreement to War Eagle's remark. "Better go," she whispers. As the all strain to hear the last echoes of the Stone Motions, Xoco's face changes with the look of someone who just remembered something. "Claws!" she hisses. "That final shot of yours... The second mech... I think you hit it. Maybe it went down and they're looking for it!" She pauses, thinking furiously, trying to estimate velocities and angles. "It might not be very far from our own crash site."
Yaotlquauhtli looks over at Xoco and shakes his head. "No, you don't understand. They didn't wind down, they didn't fade away, they just stopped. Dead. If they had landed, which would be virtually impossible here, they wouldn't have just quit like that. Not even if they had exploded, or turned off their engines for some unfathomable reason. It was like they were just swallowed. Stone Motions just don't do that. Something's very wrong." His eyes begin to cast around for something to use as a club, and finds plenty of tree branches around.
Stone Motions are aeromecha. Unlike many of the Warrior Skins they are unable to walk around - they're basically aircraft. Trying to land one in this terrain would leave a swath of devastation through the rainforest, and virtually destroy the craft. It is also doubtful that such craft could simply have folded space and departed. When folding space within an atmosphere (which is possible, though tricky) the craft would leave a "hole" in the air when they departed, which air would rush into, causing a thunderclap. No such thunderclap was heard.
Centehua's body tenses. "And Lord Night Wind calls to us from the same place... Should we still break our trail by going through the trees, or should we waste no time in founding out what is happening? To make a Stone Motion stop dead in mid-air requires powers like those of the Huitznahua. Surely who or whatever this is would be able to track a party of warriors through the jungle if they have these powers..." She looks in the direction of the where the Stone Motion was last, looking for a glimpse or hint of a sound or anything from the jungle or the sky.
Xoco grimaces, checks that her load is well secured and she is all ready to move. "Powers like those of the Huitznahua, but not necessarily the Huitznahua of the Spirit Warriors. Could be the Huitznahua of the Kree-Sara, or even the Huitznahua of the Ja-Naketh, pissed off that their warriors were kicked around. Let's go, but let's keep our ears and eye open!"
Since the Stone Motions' rumble ceased, Nochehuatl has stood motionless,
trying to listen, a frown on his face. Finally, he grunts.
"My inclination is to go slowly and carefully, but this... I agree,
we should move as quickly as we can. I'll break the trail; let's
get moving and keep on our guard."
The yaoquizque begin making their way back up the stream bed, moving cautiously but quickly. As before Nochehuatl is on point, with Xoco playing quiet rearguard, and Yaotlquauhtli, Chipotle, and Centehua trading off carrying the unconscious Tecolotl.
Several hours pass as the group makes its way forward through the jungle.
"Take cover!" Xoco hisses suddenly. "More Warrior Skins coming in!!!" Frantically, she helps the more injured towards thick vegetation, and checks that none of the gear sends light reflections or flashes. She grabs handfuls of leafy boughs and starts covering anything light-colored.
As before, Nochehuatl picks out the spots with the best coverage from overhead and gestures people toward them. At least this time they are already in the thick of the foliage instead of on the fringes of the stream bed. He moves quickly to help with the stretcher, then as the sound of the Skins gets louder, freezes into immobility, making one last "Hsst!"
Once he takes position, sitting casually and leaning against a tree next to a particularly leafy bush, Yaotlquauhtli sighs irritably and closes his eyes. Listening to the sound of the warrior skins he tries to gauge their size and classification as he wishes desperately that he had his suit along. Whose brilliant idea was it to leave them behind, anyway?
The yaoquizque scatter into the brush as the sound of the approaching Warrior Skins gradually grows louder. Looking up, they catch glimpses of no less than five Warrior Skins descending from the sky (though they are still pretty high up).
As they look up, one of the bushes nearby unfolds itself and leaps on the unmoving form of Tecolotl. Before the yaoquizque can react, the Plant Monster throws itself onto Tecolotl, using its "leaves" like serrated knives as it slices open the warrior's body!
Xoco (suspicious as only a Chichimec can be) hesitates for a a brief instant to check the surrounding foliage for any additional Plant Monsters. Satisfied that there are none, she rushes forward to do battle.
Centehua flings herself on the Plant Monster, tearing at it with her bare hands. Her strike does serious damage to some of its rootlike lower appendages. The creature emits a high-pitched keening sound, but continues to rend and tear at Tecolotl.
Yaotlquauhtli rushes forward, swinging his war club and connects with a savage thrust that knocks the Plant Monster a full 2 meters away from Tecolotl (or what remains of him anyway), knocking off some of the creature's leaves and bark and revealing flesh and meat beneath. The creature gathers up its roots and lunges at the Jaguar in turn, striking him in the left arm with enough force to spin him around and knock him backwards. Both go down in a heap and Yaotlquauhtli feels one of the battered bones in his wrist give out as he lands.
Nochehuatl also rushes forward to confront the now prone Plant Monster. The Storm Warrior leaps forward and kicks the plant monster twice. The powerful Storm Warrior breaks some of the serrated foliage from one side of the creature with his first attack, and scores a resounding strike against the same area previously damaged by Yaotlquauhtli. Unable to take the furious battering, the Plant Monster collapses across the Jaguar, momentarily stunned. This leaves the Hummingbird her opening, and she leaps high and lands a spin kick against the side of the creatures head. There is a sickening crunch, and the Plant Monster goes limp.
The Yaoquizque have little time to enjoy their triumph, however, for their minds suddenly fog over, their teeth begin to hurt, and they experience a brief bout of nausea. Though the Jaguar Warrior Skins are no longer visible through the trees, the psychic backlash is unmistakable - someone has just fired a Fist of the Gods - perhaps more than one. There is a battle taking place nearby!
Centehua rises to her feet. "Fist of the Gods... Cuauhtlicalli!" Turning to Nochehuatl, the Hummingbird continues. "The Warrior Skins are not our worry for now. But staying out of the way of the Fists will be!" She then tries to find a tree she could climb to get a look at the battle, if she can do so safely.
As Centehua starts to climb, Nochehuatl nods. "We're blind down here... maybe that will be enough to let us see. If not, we'll need to move cautiously the way we've been going."
He crouches to examine the downed plant-thing, cautious in case the thing is just stunned or feigning.
Xoco watches Centehua trying to climb a tree, wondering if any other vegetable surprise are waiting nearby. She opens her mouth to shout a warning, then thinks better of it. The Hummingbird will do what she must... or what she wants. Xoco frowns and pokes at the remains of the pseudo-plant who made such short work of Tecolotl.
"We can't move fast enough in this jungle to outrun anything that carries a Fist-of-the-Gods!" she grumbles. "We couldn't even do that on flat ground. Better worry about staying hidden from the big guys. Wonder what they're shooting at..."
With narrowed eyes she examines the remains of their enemy, clearly wondering if its kind might be the target of the Cuauhtlicalli mechs. "What was that thing anyway?" she mutters. "Is it also what attracted the kitt... the Chantico warrior skins? But then why would they shoot us down? Unless... these things can mimic more than plants?"
As Xoco mutters her speculation, Nochehuatl looks at her in surprise. "If we could take one down with just ourselves, using a Fist of the Gods seems like overkill... but then, there's too much we don't know." One corner of his mouth quirks up in a hint of a smile. "We may be Lord Night Wind's eyes, but we're not seeing much yet."
Yaotlquauhtli gives a brief sour look. "I suppose. But for now, I'd suggest we stop trying to be his eyes and take a turn as his feet. We may not be able to outrun the battle if it's charging directly toward us but we can at least attempt to move out of its way." He adjusts his arm, and winces slightly.
Xoco grunts, but keeps examining the remains of the strange attacker, carefully moving various part with her weapon. The creature vaguely resembles a cross between a wolf and an upright bear, and weighs an estimated 200+ lbs. It has chitinous skin, which has lush vegetation growing from it. the creature apparently has some form of symbiotic relationship with the vegetation, as its injuries show that roots grow down into its skin. It is muscular and fangy and clawy and tough looking. It smells funny, rather earthy. The vegetation that grows on it is all native Tamoachan vegetation.
Centehua reaches the top of the tree and looks around. The sky is clear. There is no sign of any Jaguar Warrior Skins. They cannot be seen, nor heard. There is no more firing.
Xoco finally gives up on the hybrid remains. "Never seen anything like that," she mutters, shaking her head. "If that thing is also a warrior, say it was stranded like us, then maybe it can use weapons and, uh, the Gods' gifts. That would explain why there's such a cleanup going on."
Nochehuatl grimaces as he considers the strange corpse. "Ah. I did not quite catch your meaning, before. This seems more likely to be some native of this world than not, since those are local plants growing from it, though that does not tell us much else."
Xoco turns toward Nochehuatl. "I agree that we should just keep going, doubly careful," she comments, leaning on her crude spear. She takes one last look at Tecolotl's very sparse remains, grimaces sadly. "The Owl is no longer Tethered, may his soul walk free. I guess we can't burn the body, we'd attract too much attention. But although it's cold to say, his loss will make it easier to move quietly..."
Nochehuatl nods. "There is not much we can do here... a small
cairn, maybe, and prayer. And then we need to get moving again."
As he speaks, Nochehuatl is looking around for any stones that could be
used for a cairn.
Rocks are not easy to find, but enough can be located to build a small cairn over the Death Messenger's corpse. Now, though, the yaoquizque are faced with a bit of a problem - they know nothing of the funerary rites of the Death Messengers.1 However, to leave a comrade in arms without rites is a horrible insult!
Xoco looks at the Azteca with consternation as the awkward silence stretches on. Weren't they all gung ho about dances and rituals and stuff just a little while ago? Maybe the lack of fancy feathered headgear is too much for their sensibilities? She scratches her head, unsure what to do. Of the group, surely she knows least about such rites...
"Look," she finally says, hesitant, "he was from Tepeyolohtli so this must have been a big deal to him. We can't really just leave him there. Maybe we can do our best at fashioning a, a... funerary bundle with what we have. None of us have too many possessions left, him least of all. We wrap him up with what he had left and what offerings we can make, place his mask on his wrapped face, and... Uh... Don't you know some rituals, some... prayers? I mean, I thought you were big on this..."
She looks at her four companions with perplexity, but also with expectation.
Nochehuatl stands in silence for a few moments more, then finally nods. "Something... I do not remember enough to say the rite properly for someone of my own city, let alone of a city so much more concerned with the dead. I have not seen the green stone we would put with the bodies of those not burned, and as you say, we have little enough to make a funerary bundle. We can do as you suggest, and a little more... though he has no dog to sacrifice, we can send this thing..." he nudges the remnants of the plant-thing with his foot, "...along as a servant of sorts, to help him pass over the Ninefold Stream."
Nochehuatl looks around at the others, suddenly uncertain. This is important, but it is something he never expected when he was named leader. What makes it worse is knowing that they can't hope to do it correctly; all they can hope for is minimizing the amount of wrong they do.
Xoco approaches Tecolotl's broken body again, and drops on on knee. With quick gestures, she frees a glossy black anhinga feather that was braided in her hair, and places it on the former Death Messenger's chest. "It used to belong to someone very brave," she mumbles, her head bowed and her back to her companions. "It can go in his funerary bundle." She lingers a moment longer, then jumps to her feet and moves away from both the body and the rest of the group.
Yaotlquauhtli looks over the bedraggled and rather pathetic-looking group of yaoquizque. They are only novice priests, and they don't really have time to stand around debating the matter. Surely the gods and the Death Messenger himself would forgive them for a botched ceremony if they made a valid attempt. He says quietly to Nochehuatl, "If you wish to sacrifice the animal's remains, I have a couple of all-purpose worship dances I can perform. We should at least get started, before we have more visitors."
"Is it truly appropriate for the Death Messenger to receive the death rites of his city state, or of Lord Night Wind?..." Centehua frowns, uncomfortable with the choices the party has to make. "...Or does he need both?... Shouldn't we, at the very least, perform some of the rites we have learned for Lord Night Wind, to ask for his blessing and guidance since we are his chosen and serve only him?"
Unable to make up her own mind, Centehua begins to clear a small place which the warriors can perform dancing ceremonies without too much difficulty. Something will have to be done... and soon.
"Good point," says Chipotle after a long thoughtful silence, "I believe we should consider his primary allegiance to Lord Night Wind and use what rites we know. I am not sure it is appropriate for us to perform the rites of another city. In any event we will have to rely on the understanding of the deceased." He moves to help clear the space and then pauses, "perhaps if we include a vow to carry out the more complete ceremonies when we are in a civilized place?"
Centehua spends a few minutes clearing a small space. During that time, there is no indication that enemy Warrior Skins are around. The birds sing. The stream gurgles. Centehua completes her efforts. The Yaoquizque stare at one another. A slight wind ruffles the anhinga feather on Tecolotl's mangled corpse.
After clearing a space to dance, Centehua looks at her comrades. Seeing that they are as uncomfortable as she is, she sits in the middle of the "dance area", takes a deep breath. She seems to concentrate for a minute or to, and then sighs again, as if she had posed a question which had received no answer. "The gods are quiet...," she says, almost a whisper. "They must be waiting to see how we handle this..."
She stands, and looks about the circle, collecting a green stone and a club-like tree branch. Finding half the shell of a seed pod from a local tree, she fills it with some water pooled in the hollow of tree trunk. She moves to the east edge of the circle, and lays the three items down.
Moving back to the middle of the circle, she sits again. Her head drops, and she is still for a moment. The others then hear a faint humming... the humming of a chant. At first, it seems almost as if it is borne by the wind from some other place, but as it grows louder, it is clear it comes from the Hummingbird. Without thinking, her body begins to sway with the chant. It is hardly noticeable at first, but follows the intensity of the chant. Chanting louder, but not loudly, she says: "May Lord Night Wind guide us as we send Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia to Ichan Tonatiuh Ilhuijcan. We beseech Tepeyolohtli to recognize and accept his own as he sees fit."
Dancing in a way that is reminiscent of a snake, she brings each of the three items she collected to the body of Tecolotl. Gently, she turns the body so it faces east, and moves the limp, broken limbs into a fetal position.
"Your paradise awaits you, Warrior,
see how the sun calls to you;
from womb and back again,
may your war club see you through"
She sprinkles water on the body as she chants, then lays the club beside him.
"Greet the sun, Warrior,
so the living may have day;
your soul shall reach paradise,
we send you on your way"
She places the green stone in his mouth, and Xoco's feather in his hand. Taking a dry leaf and a bit of charcoal from eastern edge of the circle, she draws a rough sketch of Tecolotl on the leaf. Using two rocks, she lights the leaf on fire. It goes in an instant, with little smoke. Gathering the ashes, she puts them in a small nut shell, tying the shell together with a bit of vine.
As Centehua performs the ritual, Nochehuatl prays quietly (making something of a low rumble) and dances in a very small circle to one side, which seems to involve more shifting heavily from one foot to the other than anything else.
While she draws the sketch of Tecolotl, he lets fall a few drops of water from his palm, where he has carried them since the beginning of the rite. Dripping them onto Tecolotl's mouth, he sings:
"As you have used water in life,
Use this in your journey.
There will be no rain
In the eight deserts.
"There will be no aid
as you cross the eight hills.
Your club must be your strength
And strike like thunder.
"There will be no cool breeze
To ease your steps.
Brave the winds that
Cut like obsidian."
He withdraws as Centehua finishes the rite.
Xoco is absolutely inept at this praying business. She knows it, and she knows she has shown her clumsiness quite clearly in the past, so she steps back and lets the Azteca handle it. But she stands in the back, looking on the proceedings and swaying with her companions' rhythm, trying to hum quietly along. She does not speak, but as the ceremony winds down and the others make their final offerings, she offers Tecolotl's remains a respectful salute, as she would -- or should -- to Huemac or High Priestess Centehua. The gesture is sincere, but almost furtive.
Yaotlquauhtli folds the remnants of his cloak and headdress carefully as Centehua finishes her ceremony. Placing them with Tecolotl's body as the only thing of real worth he has, he begins to dance in time to Nochehuatl's singing. When the tune dies down he kneels, bows his head, and murmurs his own prayers for the warrior's soul.
Centehua, after finishing the ceremony, offers up a private prayer to Lord Night Wind. She surveys the burial site one last time, to make sure all is in its place. She takes the nutshell containing the ashes and ties it about her neck, so that the ashes may return to Tethered Owl's homeland for proper burial.
At last the ceremony ends, the yaoquizque all paying their final respects
to their fallen companion. Nothing disturbs the noises of the jungle
and the chanting of the young warriors.
Notes
1 For information on Aztec funeral rites, see Mortuary practices among the Aztec. Return.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: Hunted!
NEXT CHAPTER: Guided by the Wind
BACK TO THE CHRONICLE
BACK TO THE SPIRIT WARRIOR EMPIRE