711Please respect copyright.PENANAvrBVBaTjsw
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
It’s been so long
And I’ve been putting out fire
With gasoline
711Please respect copyright.PENANApE2BoFj61F
Cat People [Putting out the fire]
David Bowie
Alejandro sat at the wooden table that served as his work bench. The table was covered with bowls of dried leaves and other plants. A leather bound journal sat in the center of the table and represented his only true possession. He was meticulously documenting the effects of some created ointment on the insect bites that covered his extremities. Sweat dotted his body, and he had his long chestnut hair pulled back into a pony tail at the nap of his neck. Otherwise, his hair would constantly stick to his face. Even while he only wore the tiniest maguey loin cloth, the intense humidity of the jungle caused him to constantly perspire. He had a scruffy beard that made his neck itch. He would need to find a knife capable of shaving soon.
He took a moment to look out of the balcony of the temple bed chamber located at the top of a giant step pyramid. Directly below him was a plaza that served as the center of the largest city he had ever seen. Grey stone step pyramids surrounded the plaza. Surrounding the plaza a city made of adobe sprawled across the island to all sides of him. The island stood in the middle of a large lake surrounded by miles of treacherous jungle. From this height he could see that the city was laid out in a pleasing geometric grid that radiated from the center plaza like the rays of the sun radiating from its central golden orb. Even the canals that cut into the banks of the island fit in nicely with the geometry of the cityscape. Large earthen dams sliced through the lake in all directions connecting the island with the untamed jungle beyond. The pyramid he resided in faced due east, and as he watched the sun rise he chuckled to himself thinking of how much his life had changed. He found himself now, a slave in the Aztec city of Tenochtilan in the heart of the New World, but he was born in the southern reaches of Spain.
Alejandro was a trained physician for the Spanish Navy and had braved the voyage to the New World with the same hopes and dreams as all of the other sailors. If you could survive the trip, then surely there would be enough gold and silver for everyone to live the remainder of their lives on. He shook his head at the fool he had been when they had landed. He had been a part of a Spanish force competing against Cortes, making sure he followed orders. When Cortes learned that their force had set foot on the American main land, Cortes had attacked killing people he named as countrymen. He had barely survived that first battle, only to be attacked again by the Aztecs. Cortes of course had retreated and escaped the attack, but Alejandro found himself taken prisoner. He was marched through the jungle and presented to the religious elite of Tenochtilan for sacrifice as well as all of his other captured comrades. He alone had survived because of the women that lay in the bed behind him.
He had watched as men he had known and suffered with were beheaded one by one on the steps of one of the largest pyramids he had ever seen. There was so much blood coating the steps that the men who were forced forward to be sacrificed slipped and fell in the blood of the men who came before them. If not for his medical training, he would have wretched all over himself as some of the other men had done. Since that day, however he had seen so many sacrifices that he had become almost numb to it.
He turned at the sound of rustling bed sheets behind him. He turned to see Eztli stretching the sleep from her joints like a jaguar might. She had a graceful feline quality to her movements and whenever she turned her dark almond shaped eyes on him, he felt like he was being hunted. Eztli was a Cihuatlamacazque, a female priestess. Specifically she was the high priestess to the goddess Xochiquetzal, the patron to young mothers and the maiden goddess of fertility, pregnancy, and sexual empowerment. For some unfathomable reason unknown to both of them, she had saved him. She had told the other priests that Xochiquetzal spoke to her and particularly wanted him for a sacrifice at her festival 7 years from now. Until then he would serve as her personal slave.
He did not know her language of Nahuatl and she did not know Spanish, so those first weeks had been very painful and confusing. His duties to her had not come easily, and he had been beaten until he had performed them correctly. She would lounge on her llama wool stuffed mattress atop a wooden bed frame much like a cat might lounge on a tree limb and watch her servants whip him with a long wooden rod. She would not speak a word but her eyes never left him while the rod bit into his skin leaving bruises and bleeding scratches. Once she had even yawned showing her teeth, but while no one was looking, she began to teach him Nahuatl and he had taught her Spanish. Now they easily spoke a bastard mix of both languages to each other. In hindsight, it was miraculous how quickly they had learned to communicate with each other, as if the words were not necessary at all; which really, they weren’t.
She slipped from the bed half naked and called to the other priestesses who served her. She had on a floor length pale white skirt that clung to the top of her hips but flared out so that it billowed behind her when she walked. Intricate and colorful embroidery wrapped around both the hem and top of the skirt. He especially liked the embroidery that dripped from the top of the skirt clinging to her hips. Nothing covered her perfect breasts except her long straight black hair. Large gold and jade ear plugs filled the giant holes in her ear lobes. Delicate gold bracelets tinkled melodically around her wrists. She took a cup of juice from one of her servants then casually crossed the large room to where he had been working, swaying her hips like a cat would. He noticed the predatory look in her eyes and swallowed hard to calm his racing heart.
She slipped easily into his lap with her bare back facing him and looked over the words he had been writing in his notebook. She didn’t say a word to him as she looked over the notes he had made that morning. When she was this close to him it was impossible not to touch her. He placed his hands on her mocha colored back and caressed her skin as he placed light kisses along her spine. She tasted like honeyed chocolate and chilies; sweet, bitter and spicy all at once. She was intoxicating and he felt her shiver under his touch.
She leaned back into him as she said, “You’ve been busy this morning. The new ointment shows promise.” Her religious duties included mid-wifery and she had a surprising amount of knowledge concerning anatomy and medicinal herbs. They had started sharing their knowledge soon after learning each other’s language. She had allowed him to begin work on medicinal remedies for the insect bites that had been plaguing him since his arrival and after all he had been through it was nice to once again be working on intellectual pursuits. There were so many plants in the New World that would revolutionize medicine back in Europe and she had shown him many things in the jungles that surrounded the city.
He began to slip his hand up her skirt as he whispered in her ear, “I know, I think I’m close.”
He sensed her smile at his double entendre. She moaned and arched her back as she let him touch her, but it was only for a moment before she pulled away and stood up. She walked away twitching her hips at him playfully and said in a more commanding tone, “There is no time for that this morning, I have duties I must attend to, and so do you.”
He let out a frustrated groan as she slipped from his grasp. “You can be an exceptionally cruel mistress.”
She looked at him hungrily before saying, “Believe me, you do not know how cruel I can be, so you best do you work well today.” She always told him that he should perform his work well before she left him. It was a way to remind him that it did not matter how much she loved him. He was a slave and he had to act like one if he wished to survive in her world. As she left the room he pushed at his groin uncomfortably and sighed heavily before he set about his morning chores.
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