Itzcoatl was breathing heavily. He followed the warrior's instinct. He felt — or something was telling him — that he had to keep moving forward and not stop. Real combat was incomparable to training. He hadn't expected the jaguar, though. The fight had been hard, but something deep in his soul whispered that he had won against the jaguar too easily.
He could feel his heart pounding and sweat running down his body.
Now three captives lay before him. Three? Only now did it sink in that he had defeated a jaguar and three warriors.
Was that even possible?!
At that moment warriors arrived, led by Cuathli.
The priest looked at him. Then at the prisoners. It was clear he was impressed. Finally one of the Lechites broke the silence.
"Alright, alright. We need to patch him up."
Cuathli nodded.
"Help him tie them up."
A few moments later bandages appeared on Itzcoatl's body. Once again he felt surprised. He had fewer wounds than he thought. And he didn't feel as if he had lost too much blood. Strangely, the wounds were mostly in places where blood was ritually let. Even the bleeding was oddly light.
He wondered whether someone hadn't helped him in that fight.
Soon he was bandaged and helping with his captives. When he approached the one who had fallen into the ravine, she seemed strangely agitated.
"What are you doing? I'll manage… auuu…"
"Calm down."
Then he removed her helmet.
For a moment he froze. A cascade of golden hair spilled out from under the helmet and turquoise eyes flashed.
"A girl?"
She looked at him as if offended by something. For a second his thoughts returned to Tlacotzin and how well he had gotten along with the acolytes. He remembered clearly the first time he saw them together. He and the acolytes had worked side by side in the temple garden, flirting with each other.
A moment later he helped her walk to their camp site.
The emotions faded and he began to feel overwhelmed. He had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to feel. He should be proud, but instead he felt strangely embarrassed and anxious. And that smell. For some reason he had the impression he could detect a faint scent of tobacco.
The battle was over. Aztlans and Lechites were tying up prisoners. Arlena watched with a certain satisfaction as her brother ended up among the captives. He tried to mouth off, but some Lechite gagged him. The Aztlans were guarding the other prisoners.
One of the Lechites was poking around the Germanic packs.
"What do you think is in there?"
he said, slapping the solidly reinforced chest.
"I bet Rhenish wine."
"And I say any wine, as long as it's red."
"White."
"Anything as long as it's strong."
Arlena gave the Lechites an unfriendly look. She had heard that if you gave them free rein they would drink the whole world dry.
"Stupid Lechite dogs!"
The biggest of the Germans shouted. Most of the Lechites laughed at him. Except one. That one stepped closer.
"I know you from somewhere…"
Instantly surprise appeared on his face, then anger mixed with fury and hatred. He grabbed him by the throat and shouted:
"IT'S YOU!!! YOU KILLED RACIBORZ LAST WINTER!!!"
The Lechites gathered around and fury appeared on their faces.
"Yes, it's him!"
"That son of a bitch who destroyed the statue, and during the escape turned back only to ram a spear into Raciborz?!"
Arlena was in shock. She had never seen such hatred, but if what the Lechites were saying was true, she didn't blame them at all.
One of the Lechites pressed a knife to the German's throat.
"The key to the chest. Or I'll start telling sausage and eggs jokes."
His voice was so cold and cruel that the German's face immediately fell.
"It's with the packs."
One of the Lechites found the key at once. They started laughing, but their joy was instantly replaced by a wave of fear. Arlena had felt it once before — during the fight. She hadn't known where the feeling came from, but now she saw its source. It was an Aztlan woman wearing a crown of feathers on her head.
"You are warriors. Behave like warriors, not like a drunken mob."
"Yes, ma'am."
All the Lechites answered.
"Alright, Sławomir, open the chest."
The Lechite named Sławomir opened the chest and immediately froze.
"Holy sh… holy sh…"
"What's in there?"
Suddenly a small imp appeared, jumped onto the Lechite's neck only to spectacularly fall off. Another Lechite approached the chest. He too was stunned, but reached inside. He pulled out one object and showed it to everyone.
It was a silver ingot.
"Twenty grivnas… (about 5 kg – author's note)"
Everyone shouted.
"TWENTY GRIVNAS?!"
The Aztlan warrior beside her seemed surprised.
"Is that a lot?"
She, her companions, the Germans and the Lechites looked at him in astonishment. The first to speak was a dwarf.
"That's a fortune. You could drink non-stop for three years on that."
The Lechites had a different scale.
"For that you can buy three dozen cows, or equip a dozen heavy cavalrymen."
"Thirty heavy shield-bearers, or a light troop."
"Feed five villages through the whole winter."
"Where did all that silver come from?!"
"Exactly! Nobody carries that much silver around for no reason."
Arlena understood instantly.
"Albrecht — you valued me and my people at twenty marks of silver?!"
She glared at him furiously. She realized they must have been planning this for a long time. Her brother said nothing. One of the Aztlans made sure he couldn't.
"Quiet." One of the Lechites spoke. "Sławomir, take a horse and ride to Mirosławice. Tell them to send a team for these Germans."
The rider set off quickly. She and her companions were loaded onto a wagon. The Lechites and Aztlans began discussing among themselves.
"Priestess Cuathli… we know the gods are owed their share, like — if you'll pardon the expression — a dog gets his bowl, but you know…"
"I understand. You want revenge."
Itzcoatl could see it clearly. The Lechites were killing the Germans with their eyes, and most had weapons in hand.
Cuathli looked at the Germanic captives. It was not a friendly look.
"They're yours."
The Lechite smiled and pointed at the Frank named Albrecht.
"You can take him. We don't want him. The silver will be enough for us."
Not long after, the Lechite messenger returned with a detachment of warriors and took the Germans away. The Aztlans and the remaining Germans set off toward the Aztlan city, just as they had planned from the beginning.