Red City on the Ocean
By Max Sprin
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About this ebook
The year is 1483 AD, ten years before Christopher Columbus's famous voyage to America. In Aztlan, the Aztecs have suffered significant changes in their social and religious climates. Under the weyitlatoani Moсtezuma, Aztecs ceased sacrificing those that share their faith and began a renewed focus on education, prosperity, and the discovery and conquering of new lands. With this new focus came new ventures, and a floating city was built to sail across the seas in search of adventure and led by divine guidance. Eventually, this floating city would reach the shores of Portugal.
The Portuguese were wrought with their own struggles at this time. The land was flooded with refugees who had fled the Reconquista and more who fled the looming Inquisition in the neighboring kingdom of Castile. The newly crowned Portuguese king, Joao II, was obsessed with the sea and the discoveries waiting across unknown waters. He dreamt of building Portugal into a new maritime superpower, but the kingdom's coffers were dry, and to rebuild the treasury, he turned to the wealthy landowners, forcefully ridding them of their property to support the building of new ships and funding voyages.
At the time of our tale, Joao II has decided to strike against the wealthiest and most influential dynasty in Portugal, the House of Braganza. Duke Ferdinand II de Braganza was an influential advocate of new liberal ideals growing in Portugal and dreamt of building a new parliamentary democracy based on the Portuguese Cortes. When Joao II makes his move, de Braganza has no choice but to organize a rebellion and strike back.
In this alternative historical fiction, you will find yourself amid vivid characters traveling through the magnificent city centers of the Aztec Empire and the narrow cobblestone streets of medieval Europe. There are wild jungle battles in Mesoamerica and armored knights besieging castles in Portugal and Africa. As the king meets with the navigators who will lead the Age of Exploration, readers will become witness to the hidden secrets of an Aztec dynasty. Here, the worlds of medieval Europe and Aztec civilization meet and clash, illuminating many questions for all ages.
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Red City on the Ocean - Max Sprin
Chapter 1. Arrival
It was the earliest hours of the morning, and a full moon shone over the calm, almost motionless sea. If someone had looked out to sea from the shore, he would have seen two boats approaching the shore along the luminescent path. It was so bright that even from afar you could see men aboard them. The silhouettes of these people were complemented by feathered headdresses adorning their heads.
The first boat came to the shore and a half-naked man jumped out of it. He wore a scarlet loincloth, and a huge headdress towered on his head. A necklace of many strands of precious stones and gold covered his shoulders and chest with a wide stripe.
Other half-naked people began to disembark behind him. The first man was Coatl, the leader of the foreigners. His clothes and jewelry were far more exquisite and rich, distinguishing him from the others. His companion, who jumped ashore after him, was Ocotlan. He was a man of enormous stature with imposing muscles.
Tupac landed third – the commander of the ten warriors who followed him ashore. Moonlight glittered on bracelets, chains, and precious stones set in gold, which adorned the figures of these people, who otherwise wore only loincloths and capes made of squares of painted leather that covered and protected their shoulders. The chest of each was decorated with tattoos and a necklace of gleaming gems and sharp fangs. All the warriors wore fancy helmets that resembled the heads of jaguars or eagles except Tupac. Their faces were painted half blue, and half red or yellow.
Coatl fell to his knees and touched the ground. Under his hand was a smooth flat stone that still retained the warmth of the day. Ocotlan did the same, This land is made of stone!
he said, looking at Coatl.
Coatl did not answer. Feeling the ground, he raised his head. Where the shore ended the smooth ascent, there was a high sheer cliff of black stone about four times the height of a man. The coast here is not at all like ours,
Ocotlan continued, This is an inhospitable land.
The land of Huitzilopochtli must be hidden behind this wall,
Coatl said. The wall guards his world.
Meanwhile, the stars, whose solid carpet stretched over the heads of the wanderers, began to disappear. The sky above the wall was brightening, and the moon – Coatl looked around – was also beginning to lose its dazzling brilliance. Huitzilopochtli is coming out now,
Coatl whispered reverently, Maybe we can get around this wall somewhere.
He looked around. In the distance, the wall began to descend. Follow me!
Coatl commanded and began to walk along the stone bank wall; the other foreigners followed.
Coatl was accompanied by an elite group of people from Aztlan, their homeland. They were the finest, bravest, most invincible warriors. They walked with a springy gait that may appear odd to others. The rubber used in the thick soles of their shoes was virtually unknown to the rest of the world. The rubber was made from extracts that were expertly worked by the masters of Tenochtitlan. These rubber soles not only protected their feet and made their gait noiseless, but also allowed them to make huge jumps. As they reached the end of the descending wall, Coatl climbed up and found himself on the edge of a cliff, under which a black expanse of cooled lava stretched out to the sea. Coatl's twelve companions jumped up before they reached the end of the wall so that all were standing on the edge of the cliff.
The first rays of the sun were already bursting over the horizon. An unknown land stretched out before their eyes. Even from afar, it was clear that intelligent beings were cultivating this land. Here and there it was covered with rectangular plots of different colors, just like in their homeland, where different crops were grown next to one another. In areas where the land was not cultivated, it was lined with winding paths. However, the smells of this land, its crops, and its forest, darkening in the distance, were completely different from the aroma of their native shores.
Was Huitzilopochtli himself reigning somewhere nearby?
Coatl suddenly felt the weight of the golden plate hanging on his chest. The plate depicted a pyramid protruding from the water. The edges of the plate were decorated with multicolored gems, between which there were images of bizarre half-humans, half-animals in human poses. Coatl put his hand under the plate and began to rub his chest. Despite the freshness of the morning, he felt stuffy.
Where is Huitzilopochtli?
Tupac whispered behind his back, eagerly peering into the darkness of the forest.
Huitzilopochtli doesn't have to come to us right away,
Coatl replied. Before he descends to us himself, he may send his servants first.
As if to confirm Coatl's words, two figures emerged from the morning haze. They were moving along the road leading to the sea from the fields and woods. Here they are!
Coatl exclaimed, and all the men, in one simultaneous movement, fell to their knees.
The two horsemen rode along the road. Some locals would have recognized them as soldiers from the Leiria castle, their faces and figures not yet disfigured by years of military service or peasant work. The soldiers were tipsy; having recently been escorted out of some roadside tavern that had closed for the night. Their armor, greaves, breastplates, and battle helmets were covered with dew.
One of them was just saying to the other, Yes, Cristiano, that guy really hit you hard. Next time he sees you, though, you are going to really get it. He is never going to forgive you for what you did.
His other man remained silent. With his left hand, he supported his right. A huge bloodstain spread out on his sleeve. Suddenly he shouted, Jose! Look!
On the edge of the cliff in front of the riders stood a group of strange half-naked people. On the head of the one standing in front of everyone was a huge headdress made of colorful feathers, resembling the tiara of the pope depicted in the stained-glass window in the garrison church. The man's face was covered with jewelry made of turquoise and emeralds, hung wherever possible – on his nose, chin, and ears. The man standing next to him was distinguishable from the others by his tall stature and massive frame. His headdress was also strange, although not as big. The shoulders and chest of the giant were covered with a cape made of pieces of thick leather and decorated with feathers of unknown colorful birds.
All of the foreigners were on their knees and stretched out their hands to the riders as if wanting to embrace them. Their dark faces expressed confusion, even horror. Their hands were shaking; they were trembling with fear. They had never seen horses before, but the images of their teteo represented exactly such combinations of human and animal bodies. They believed in those depictions as much as anything they saw in ordinary life. But this appeared as if those paintings were actually coming to life!
One of the strangers, the man in the ornate headdress, was in front of everyone kneeling on only one knee. On his chest, in addition to the necklace, there was a large plate richly decorated with multicolored stones. The rays of the rising sun, bursting out from behind the soldiers, forced the ornate disc to reflect and even enhance the sunlight.
There was a deathly silence. It seemed that even the horses ceased to understand what kind of world they were in. Jose was the first to come to his senses. Cristiano,
he muttered. Damn me, they have gold around their necks. I swear it’s gold!
Turning back to the strangers, he yelled Hey! Who are you? Cristiano, they probably don't even understand our language.
Cristiano, who continued to support his bloody right hand with his left hand, said, They don't look like good Christians. Are they fleeing from the Castilians? Probably Marranos. Or maybe Moriscos?
How do I know!?
Jose exclaimed. The hops were beginning to fade from his head, giving way to a dull hangover. I only know that if we pull their necklaces off their necks, we can feast for the rest of our lives. Think about it, friend. What do you say?
Cristiano was silent.
Jose was only a couple of years older than Cristiano. But during this time, he managed to fight in many places and behead more than one enemy with his sword, whether it was enemy soldiers or Marranos or Moriscos who were attempting to avoid slavery. He looked at the newcomers attentively but could not figure out if they had any weapons. Hey, you,
Jose shouted, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. If you want to wander around our land, you should pay for the hospitality. Is that clear?
The warriors continued to look at the riders in silence and horror. They thought the voices of the teteo should sound different. And yet these two-headed four-legged creatures could not be human either.
Jose, a brave fighter, was already figuring out which of the strangers would likely rush at them first. He had already identified their leader and noted the group of ten standing behind the three leaders comprised two separate groups. The upper arms of the five were tied with yellow ribbons, and their torsos were covered with jaguar skins. On the heads of these five were helmets in the form of jaguar heads with bared fangs. The other five, whose bodies were not covered with animal skins, wore crowns on their heads, from which eagle feathers scattered in different directions. In the middle, above the forehead, these headdresses were decorated with open eagle beaks, and scarlet ribbons were visible on their upper arms. The giant and another man standing next to the leader were clearly his confidants or assistants.
We have come to meet Huitzilopochtli,
said Coatl. We implore Huitzilopochtli to let the world pass into the next Xuihpohualli and not let the fifth Sun fall on the people of Aztlan on the next New Fire ceremony. We no longer offer up gifts of those who celebrate our festivals with us, as the Nahui Ollin commanded us twenty-eight tonalpohualli ago. However, we bravely fight and are merciless to those who do not acknowledge Teotl, offering up their hearts, blood, and flesh in honor of Huitzilopochtli and other creators of everything natural around us!
Jose stared at Coatl and silently tried to repeat the few syllables of his speech that he could make out.
Coatl looked closely at the riders and saw the blood on Cristiano's sleeve. He got up from his knee, lowered his hands, turned to his warriors, and said, Stand up.
The men slowly stood up. The silence that followed was broken by Tupac's whisper, These creatures have two heads and four legs. Their magnitude is immeasurable.
They must be incredibly rich,
Ocotlan replied. There is no metal in our land that is equivalent to that from which their macuahuitl and ichkahuipilli are made. It must be very strong. Have you seen how the sun plays on the tip of his macuahuitl? The end shimmers with a rainbow. The sun can only play this way on very sharp and hardened edges.
And do you think these creatures are made of this metal themselves?
Tupac asked, squinting at Ocotlan.
Jose continued to look at the strangers' adornments with a grin, and it seemed to Coatl that he was beginning to understand the appraising looks of the creatures. Could it be that the gold from which their jewelry was made was considered an expensive metal in this land? After all, there was no gold on their bodies.
Jose got down from his horse. The foreigners shuddered as, before their eyes, a man seemingly took off his own head and, as if there were nothing unusual, put it next to him. The soldier approached the foreigners, and they leaned back. Fear continued to grip their souls. Jose was befuddled, but he could also see from the faces of the strangers how confused they were as well.
Jose pointed at the Nahui Ollin necklace adorning Tupac's neck. The latter looked over at Coatl with fright. Does he really know what Nahui Ollin is?!
Coatl said with an astonished face, Or maybe it was him who sent the great dream of Moctezuma at the last New Fire ceremony at the last Xuihpohualli? Tupac, give it to him.
Tupac took off the necklace and handed it to the soldier. Jose grabbed it, turned it over in his hands, and then threw it to his companion, who still sat on his horse. Cristiano!
he said, I do not know from what sideshow these curiosities escaped, but their jewelry is definitely enough to buy the whole damn tavern where that guy wanted to kill you. And also buy your own palace in Lisbon and hire a steward to look after it. With this gold, we will eat bountifully and sleep in comfort for the rest of our days. Did you fall asleep, Cristiano? What do you think?
Cristiano, meanwhile, was speechless, looking at the piece of jewelry that he held in his hands. He had never seen such wealth, even on noble ladies in the church of Leiria during Mass. It was a large medallion hanging on a gold chain, a golden emblem in the shape of a butterfly with an image of a half-closed human eye in the middle. The edges were decorated with elaborately cut crimson, green, and transparent, precious stones.
He has probably recognized it,
Tupac whispered.
Jose raised his sword and, flashing the blade, drew an arc in front of Tupac in one fell swoop. The foreigners backed away again. The teteo never demanded such paltry offerings from humans,
Ocotlan declared.
You're right. These are not Huitzilopochtli's messengers,
said Tupac. These are not spirits or their servants. If they are not friends of the creators, then they are no friends of ours either.
Ocotlan bent his right arm at the elbow, which immediately became tense with muscles, and raised his palm up with fingers splayed, the scarlet ribbon hanging from his arm. Immediately behind Ocotlan, the five warriors wearing eagle helmets and scarlet ribbons lined up in an even line. Ocotlan raised his left arm, marked with a yellow ribbon, and the warriors wearing jaguar helmets and yellow ribbons lined up behind the first.
Jose backed up to his horse and, without looking, grabbed her reins. There were no clear thoughts in his head yet, but something prompted him to worry. He expertly, without looking at the horse, jumped up into the saddle.
Cristiano tried to take up his sword but immediately groaned. The pain that flashed through his body made his right arm fall limp at his side. He took ahold of the crossbow strapped to his saddle with his left hand, pulled the bowstring at the ready, and aimed at Tupac, who was standing closest to him. Tupac looked at the crossbow in surprise.
Show me the way to Huitzilopochtli, or he will meet you at the estli ahkopechtli,
Coatl said, glaring angrily at Jose.
Ocotlan got down on one knee and rested his left fist on the ground. The warriors behind Ocotlan repeated his pose. They did it so smoothly that the soldiers no longer had any doubts about their intentions: they were going to attack!
Terrified, Cristiano pulled the trigger of the crossbow. The bolt whistled into Tupac's arm, rending the scarlet ribbon. The warrior clutched at the wound; the scarlet ribbon fell to the ground. The morning breeze picked it up and carried it off the cliff and out to sea.
Ocotlan jerked his right hand up. At this command, the jaguars crouched even lower, and suddenly leaping from their place, covering a dozen steps at once, jumped in different directions. Once on the ground, they encircled their enemies in a ring. The soldiers began to panic and look around at one jaguar, then at another. Although the strangers’ faces were completely alien to them, the riders understood their expressions all too well. Nothing good would come of this. At the same time, the eagles got behind the jaguars in a combat stance.
Ropes flew and looped around the necks of the riders. Cristiano dropped the crossbow and grabbed his throat with his uninjured hand, trying in vain to free himself from the noose. In his other hand, he still clutched the Nahui Ollin necklace, but as the alien warrior tightened the noose around his neck, it fell from his hand. The warrior crouched down and began to pull the rope toward himself. Cristiano wheezed and fell off his horse. There was a crunch, the fall exacerbated by the soldier’s heavy armor, his neck was broken.
Jose’s gaze clouded; his eyes began to roll in opposite directions. He swayed in the saddle and fell off the horse. Luckily, he did not break anything in the fall but hit his shoulder hard. The soldier's horse neighed loudly. His hands reached out and grasped the necklace that Cristiano had dropped.
What luck! Our first captive on Uehkatlan as we prepare for the Festival of Tezcatlipoca!
Coatl shouted, pointing at Jose, whose pupils were moving from side to side. Tomorrow we will celebrate the first day of Toxcatl with dignity!
Patli, the oldest of the warriors, who had been requested to join the warrior party personally by Ocotlan, walked up to Jose, who was lying on the ground. At the end of the year, he would be thirty years old, his face disfigured by war, his nasolabial folds leading to the ever-drooping corners of his mouth. He was the most experienced but at the same time a gloomy warrior. He always foresaw the worst course of events and was almost always right. He produced bundles of water-soaked vines from under his cape. A moment later, Jose's hands were wrapped in a knot of a strong vine, which Huitzilopochtli himself could not untangle. Patli lifted Jose by the collar and gave him a good kick. Smiles appeared on the faces of the warriors for the first time since landing on the shore.
Tupac caught Jose, who was awkwardly jogging to keep up, with his healthy hand, and snatched the necklace from the soldier's fingers, which he had continued to squeeze with some kind of childish faith in the legality of the property that once turned out to be in his hands. Tupac put the necklace back on his neck and looked around.
Ocotlan came up to the injured warrior. Close your eyes,
he said. Tupac squeezed his eyes shut. Ocotlan took hold of the bolt still sticking out of Tupac's upper arm and pushed it forward. From the other side of the shoulder, along with the flow of blood, the tip came out. Tupac growled softly. Be a real warrior and endure,
Ocotlan said. He felt the metal tip of the bolt and was surprised. It was amazing how the exact shape had been molded by the blacksmith who forged this tiny point from an unknown solid metal. Ocotlan broke off the tip and, grabbing the bolt by the shaft, pulled it towards himself. Tupac screamed in pain.
That's it, Tupac,
Ocotlan said, showing the warrior the tip and shaft of the bolt. Take a sip of octli and the pain will pass. Tomorrow you will celebrate Toxcatl with everyone. Hey, who's got a piece of maguey cloth? Bind this wound on his arm!
Patli picked up a drop of blood from Tupac's hand with his finger and put a red dot on his shoulder, just above where the ribbon had been tied.
Congratulations, Patli,
Coatl said to the old warrior. Your captive will be a special gift for Tezcatlipoca. This is a wonderful gift from Uehkatlan to the Toxcatl festival. This has never happened before!
The loud victorious cry of the warrior resounded over the black stones of the inhospitable shore.
A Moment from the Past - Little Estela
In the center of a Portuguese town, houses on both sides of the streets stood so close to each other that neighbors could shake hands over the pavement without leaving their homes. There was always little light here, but these two girls knew a place where the sun shone brightly all day. It was there, at the intersection of two narrow streets, under the canopy of a spreading sycamore tree, that they were sitting. One of them was saying something and rocking a rag doll in her arms. The other girl also had a doll in her hands, making it walk along the ground. Each toy was made of the same fabric from which its owner's dresses were sewn. One, multicolored, was sewn from small pieces of fine foreign-made fabric. The other, a dingy drab gray, was made from a piece of unbleached wool. The first doll was always clean because dirt simply did not cling to it. The second kept traces of all the tumbles onto the ground and into puddles.
A tall, burly woman came around the corner, a basket hanging from her half-bent arm. Passing by the girls, she broke into a smile. Good afternoon, Senhorita Marisa,
she said. The woman took out a pie from the basket, golden brown, lush, with streaks of jam, already hardened on the underside. She handed it to the girl in the brightly colored dress and, smiling once more, went on.
Say hello to your mother!
she shouted as a farewell.
The girl brought the pie up to her mouth but changed her mind. She broke it in two and handed the smaller half to her friend. They both began to eat heartily.
A little later, another woman appeared on the otherwise deserted street. She also carried a basket, but her burden was much heavier than a basket of pies. It was obvious from the face and gait of this young woman that she was very tired, and it was still early; the sun had not even reached its zenith. The girl in the gray dress jumped up and rushed to meet her. Mom! Mom!
she grabbed the handle of the basket and pulled it towards her.
Don't take it, dear,
the mother said. You can't carry it; It's heavy.
Mom, why was Marisa given a pie and I wasn't?
the girl asked, sincerely puzzled.
Because Marisa's father is a lieutenant general,
her mother replied with barely noticeable sadness, and Marisa is also wearing a beautiful dress. Your dad is a simple captain and is far across the sea in Africa. However, if he returns victorious, he will be promoted, and you will no longer be the daughter of a simple captain.
The mother smiled and kissed the girl. In the meantime, come along, Estela, you can help me do the laundry.
The girl sighed and, looking back at her friend, waved her hand. Mother and daughter walked side by side. Do you really need a beautiful and expensive dress to be fed with sweet pies?
the girl thought with resentment.
Mom, will you make me a new dress?
she asked.
Of course!
the mother immediately replied. If your dad defeats his enemies, the king will reward him handsomely. Then Dad will buy us as many beautiful fabrics as he wants, and I'll make new dresses for both of us.
She shifted the laundry basket to her other arm and, unnoticed by her daughter, wiped her tears.
Chapter 2. The Scarlet Ribbon
On the afternoon of May 20, 1483, Leandro hosted guests at his Sinta estate. Sometimes it happened that the table in the dining room of his house was full of fried pheasants and partridges, jugs of wine and cider, pates, and dishes with pieces of roast beef, lamb, and stewed vegetables. A huge farm with fields, orchards, vineyards, and homes of peasants who regularly paid rent or worked on the estate, provided everything that the owner and his family needed, but lavish feasts in the manor house rarely happened. As a rule, they only occurred on those days when Leandro's guests were not those closest to him.
Today, the usual family dinner was being held at Leandro's house, and apart from the household, there was only Estela, daughter of the castellan of the fortress of Leiria, and Senhor Bianco, the new assistant to the Venetian envoy. Senhor Bianco said he specifically wanted to visit Don Leandro at his estate so he could expand his knowledge of Portugal in a relaxed atmosphere.
Contrary to the custom at large feasts, women did not occupy a separate part of the table but sat mixed with men. Estela was sitting next to Leandro's son, Nuno. Nuno could only see the girl’s dazzling beauty in profile. It was pleasant because Estela's face had one flaw – a deep wrinkle that ran through her forehead. In Nuno's imagination, this wrinkle never appeared, but every time he looked at Estela's face, the slight imperfection surprised him as if he were seeing it for the first time. From this angle, he couldn't see this blemish.
Nuno and Estela were the same age – both were seventeen. Many years ago, a jousting tournament was held in the fortress of Leiria, which gathered all the surrounding nobility including Leandro and his family. After the tournament, Daniel, Estela’s father, the castellan of the fortress, invited his wealthy neighbor, the landowner Don Leandro, to a feast. Manuella, Nuno's mother, and Carmina, Estela's mother, met at this gathering, and having children of the same age, found they had much in common to talk about. Moreover, their children immediately started chatting with each other as if they had been friends for many years.
Neither the destiny of Estela nor Nuno had yet been truly decided, and these destinies were developing quite strangely.
The other children born to Daniel and Carmina had all died one after the other. Estela was the only child who survived, and her parents loved her unceasingly. Estela, as a child, would often play with the toys of her deceased brothers and sisters, weathered tops and worn dolls - she adored them all the same. Daniel had no choice; he needed an heir, so he raised