Date: Fri, 17 Nov 2017 10:20:01 +0100
From: Nifty Boy <niftyboy01@gmail.com>
Subject: Aztec Boys, Chapter 1

Aztec Boys

Chapter 1: Savage Beginnings

By NiftyBoy
(niftyboy01@gmail.com)

Chicahua grumbled as he crawled through the dense jungle. He was sure that
he had glimpsed a jaguar and he desperately want to kill it and bring it
back home. He was part of a hunting group of students from school, but he
couldn't take their needling and joking about him anymore. Even one of the
commoners had dared to make jokes about him and the other boys of noble
birth hadn't even slapped the offender. It was true that he was born
illegitimate, but he still belonged to a noble family, even though a minor
one. He had wanted to beat up the commoner boy, but the others had held him
back and laughed. Axotl, the commoner, had been a thorn in Chicahua's side
for years. It was true that exceptionally clever boys were allowed to join
the calmecac, the school for nobles and Axotl was clever, but smug and
without any respect for his betters. While Chicahua was better with the bow
and the spear, Axotl often bested him in astrology and writing. And today
Axotl really had gone too far by bringing up his illegitimate birth.
Chicahua had gone into a white rage and the other boys had to hold him
back, laughing.

Chicahua did not have many friends at school. The other students considered
him haughty and arrogant. But he was good at school and the teachers liked
him and often presented him as an example to the others. He trained
diligently and was already masterful with the bow and knife.  Despite this,
his father was stern and unforgiving towards him and he felt the need to
prove himself to him. His father had two other sons which he favored over
Chicahua. But rather than rebel, Chicahua tried to emulate his father even
more and his dream was to become a famous warrior and kill many enemies of
the Aztec empire, as his father had done years ago.

He was soon fourteen summers old, and he felt it was getting time for him
to become a warrior.  Killing a Jaguar would be a good start and even his
father might finally take note of him. He was actually glad to be alone. It
was better to kill the jaguar on his own rather than to have to share the
glory with others in the hunting party. His name, Chicahua, meant "the
strong one" and he always felt a responsibility to live up to it.

And so he crawled alone through the dense and fetid jungle. The moss under
his bare feet was wet and every step he made created loud, sucking noises.
The canopy of leaves high up was so dense that no direct sunlight managed
to get through and the jungle was eternally gloomy and filled with a
strange green half-light. And the canopy not only held back the light but
also the heat and humidity.  His skin was wet not only from sweat but also
from the water that was dripping down from the leaves.

Ahead of him he could see that the vegetation became slightly less dense
and a ray of sunlight shone through which told him that he was close to the
river. He moved even more carefully since the jaguar was likely at the
river and drinking.  Soon he saw a small piece of beach where the river
took a shallow turn and the turbid, water flowed slowly. He looked forward
to stepping into the cool water of the river and relaxing for a while.

Then he suddenly stopped and held his breath. Close to the water he could
make out a figure squatting next to a small canoe.

Chicahua knew that the Aztec empire was expanding again and at war with
numerous tribes and city states. He crouched down low and watched the
figure intently. He wondered if it might belong to a raiding party. It was
unlikely since everybody knew about the ferocity of the Aztec warriors and
the blood pyramid to which the vanquished warriors were sent to be
sacrificed. But perhaps he was going to be lucky and catch an exceptionally
stupid warrior off-guard.

At first he thought that he was seeing a girl, which was very disappointing
because catching her would not bestow much honor upon him. The figure was
small and slim and smooth like a girl. But then when the stranger moved its
head to the side he realized that it was a boy. He had a cute, round face
with glossy hair that was so black that it had a bluish tint, cut in a
traditional bowl shape.  The boy was squatting with widely spread thighs
and had his back towards him. His skin was glistening with sweat and a deep
golden brown. His limbs were slim and he had round, firm buttocks and
narrow hips.

The boy was naked except for some jewelry. Chicahua focused on the anklets
and bracelets that the boy was wearing. They were similar to the ones he
was sporting, but different enough to show that he was not an Aztec but
from one of the neighboring tribes or states. The naked boy was unaware of
being watched and continued peeling fruit.

Chicahua slowly and carefully unwound the small bola that he had wrapped
around his arm. This boy was a prize a thousand times better than even a
jaguar. Catching an enemy warrior would give him great prestige among the
boys and with his father. Admittedly the boy was perhaps not yet a warrior
and looked to be younger than even himself. But still, he was likely from
an enemy tribe and the Aztec did not appreciate foreigners entering their
territory uninvited.

He carefully crawled closer and knelt. He started to swing the bola and
aimed for the slim neck of the boy. It was a very shapely and long neck and
seemed the easiest to aim for. He swung the bola faster and faster, then he
let it go.

The string with the two small, round stones attached to each end flew
through the air, then it dropped. Chicahua watched in frustration as it
skidded along the ground. He had always been good at school with the bola,
but in his excitement his aim was way off. The Aztec youth watched the boy
tense as he heard the swishing sound but it was too late and the bola
wrapped around his ankles.

The boy shrieked in shock and fell forward, his ankles tied together. He
cried out and landed with his upper body in the river. The scream was cut
off and Chicahua watched in horror as the boy was sliding into the water
and trashing around.

Chicahua jumped up and ran over to the water and managed to grab the boy by
his ankles and pulled. Fortunately the boy was slim and light and he
managed to drag him out of the water.

The boy coughed and Chicahua quickly pushed him on his back and pressed
down on his abs. The boy heaved and a gush of water erupted from his mouth.

Chicahua sighed with relief. He pretended to himself that he was glad
because his catch would have been worthless to him if it had been swept
downriver, but deep down, not acknowledged by himself, he felt a strange
attraction.

While the boy was desperately catching his breath, Chicahua pushed him on
his side and grabbed a vine and used it to tie his wrists behind his
back. He got up and stared down at his captive.

When the boy finally began breathing normally he turned on his back and
glared up at his captor.  Aztec's were uninhibited regarding nudity.
Chicahua himself often went naked and rarely wore more than a small
breechcloth. He had seen many naked boys and men already but this boy was
extraordinarily attractive and beautiful. He let his eyes glide over the
naked figure that was laying before him.

The boy was lithe and lean with a taut, slim body and silky smooth skin.
The anklets and bracelets he was wearing appeared inexpensive meaning he
was likely not from a rich family.

"Where are you from," he finally asked the boy

"I am from Yahualica," the boy hissed.

Now it became clear to Chicahua. The boy was a Huastec, a notorious people
where men often went without clothing. He had heard many stories about the
degenerate Huastec and they were a frequent topic among boys and was a
source of much laughter and guffawing. They were renowned for their
artistry and singing and dancing, but rather less so for their martial
skill. Chicahua smiled since the Aztecs had had an uneasy relationship with
the effeminate Huastec for decades and the priests very much approved of
them being captured.

"What is your name?" Chicahua asked harshly.

"Xipilli," hissed the boy.  "Ah, jeweled prince," Chicahua commented. "Even
though your jewels are not yet very princely," he grinned and stubbed the
boy's balls lightly with his toe.

"At least they are not so small that I have to hide them," the boy replied
and glared at him.

"You are plucky, I have to give you that," Chicahua admitted.

Then Chicahua pulled his captive up and pushed him towards the jungle.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" Xipilli asked angrily.

"To the priests. Catching an enemy on our territory might allow me to
become a warrior," Chicahua explained.

"But I am not a warrior. And who are you anyway to take my freedom?" the
boy argued.

"I am Chicahua and I belong to a noble family of the Aztec empire. My
capturing you will make me a true warrior," Chicahua said proudly.

"Aztec?" the boy whispered and blanched.

At first Xipilli had found the youth capturing him more irritating than
frightening, but him being an Aztec changed everything. Xipilli knew well
that catching an enemy was the way for Aztec boys to become warriors.
Hundreds and thousands of these prisoners were then sacrificed to the Aztec
gods, dragged to a blood pyramid and their hearts ripped out.

"Yes, you are only a few hours walk away from Tenochtitlan, our capital. I
am sure you knew that.  But you can explain all that to the priests," the
Aztec boy replied and prodded the boy forward.

Once they were out of the jungle, the going became easier and Chicahua
forced the boy into a brisk walk. After an hour's walk, the fields gave way
to small villages and soon they were surrounded by hovels, buildings and
large warehouses as they arrived at the outskirts of Tenochtitlan. The city
was built in the middle of Lake Texoco and was one of the wonders of the
world. Already they could see the innumerable buildings and far away in the
middle of the city the great pyramid. It was the home of more than hundred
thousand people and during the day at least that many more came to the city
bringing wares for trading. Tenochtitlan was the center of trade of the
Aztec empires, collecting tributes from far away and redistributing them.
Further to the north they could make out Tlatelolco, another great city
also built on an island and closely aligned with the Aztec.

The road they were walking on transformed into a causeway and they began
crossing the lake. There were more and more people walking on the causeway
and hundreds if not thousands of canoes were on the lake, bringing wares to
the market. People stared at Chicahua and Xipilli and the Aztec boy walked
proudly, his eyes fixed ahead, trying to look impassive. Soon they entered
the city and walked along one of the three wide streets that lead directly
to the temples that surrounded the central pyramid.

On either side of the street were buildings gaudily painted in red and blue
and yellow. Beautiful murals of serpents and birds and jaguars adorned the
walls of the houses. Chicahua noted that the boy looked at the buildings
and was obviously in awe. Tenochtitlan was the largest and most impressive
city in the world and as the priests and his father often emphasized, they
were blessed by the Gods because they diligently sacrificed their enemies,
in particular to Quetzalcoatl.

He looked at the slim back of the naked boy before him, proud that he was
finally doing his duty in placating and honoring the Gods. Deep down he
felt a slight pang of regret, but he quickly buried this feeling and jabbed
the boy to walk faster.

Finally they arrived at the central temple and Chicahua pushed the boy
forward. Behind the temple the great pyramid seemed to reach the sky. It
went up steeply for what seemed forever. At the top were two large temples
which were used for sacrifices and dedicated to Huitzilopochtli, the god of
war and to Tlaloc, the god of rain.

At the foot of the great pyramid were temples and buildings which served
the priests. One was used to process the prisoners and the Aztec boy pushed
his captive towards it. Xipilli began shaking when he saw the holding pen
full of naked prisoners. A gaunt priest was watching them and stepped
forward.

"Who are you?" he asked Chicahua, staring at the boy.

The priest was old and cruel looking. He was dressed in a colorful
waistcoat and adorned with necklaces and bracelets, all signifying his
exalted rank. His face was thin, with sunken cheeks and a wide mouth and
deeply sunken, cold eyes. He looked like a vulture, scary and not quite
human. A scar going from one eye to the corner of his mouth showed that he
had actively participated in capturing enemies to sacrifice to the gods.

"I am Chicahua and I captured an enemy warrior, less than three hours walk
from here," Chicahua answered proudly.

The priest grunted and reached out and pulled Xipilli closer.

"This runt seems to be somewhat young to be a warrior, but he is already a
man," he commented while he glanced at Xipilli's crotch.

"You did well, Chicahua," he priest added.

"And your timing is good. Tomorrow we will bring captives to Tolan to offer
them to Quetzalcoatl.  Your captive will join them. His youth will greatly
placate Quetzalcoatl."

Chicahua's breast swelled with pride. It was a great honor to be sacrificed
at the ancient pyramid of Tolan. Tolan was the capital of the Toltec, the
spiritual ancestors of the Aztecs. The Aztec boy could not believe his luck
that his first captive was selected to be sacrificed at such an auspicious
place.  It used to be the capital city of the great Toltecs but had been
abandoned years ago. The Toltecs were seen by the Aztecs as their spiritual
ancestors. Although the priests had recently begun to once again use the
great pyramid of Tolan for sacrifices, it was still rare that captives were
brought there since it took about ten day's walk to Tolan and the journey
was strenuous.

Xipilli did not seem to understand the great honor that would be bestowed
upon him and started sobbing.

"Please...I am no warrior...," he started to beg but the priest slapped him
hard without even looking at him and the boy fell on his back, nearly
unconscious.

Two guards stepped forward and dragged the limp boy away. The priest did
not even look and focused on Chicahua. They guards stripped the boy of all
jewelry leaving him now completely naked.  If the boy would have had a
foreskin, they would have pulled it back and tied it with a string to
expose his glans, making him look even more vulnerable and naked. But
Xipilli was already circumcised so the warrior carried him away after
taking off his anklets and bracelets. Chicahua watched as the boy sobbed as
he was roughly dragged away to the holding pen for the captives.

"To which family do you belong? I will see to it that you will be
rewarded."

"My father is Zolin," Chicahua replied, turning his attention quickly back
to the priest.

"Ah, a noble family. I know your father. I fought with him years ago. He
brought great honor to us and fed our sacrifices with many enemies. It
seems that you are on the way to becoming a warrior like him," the priest
said.

"Now go while we prepare the captives for the journey to Tolan."

The priest nodded at Chicahua and then followed the guards into the temple.

Chicahua went back home and entered his family compound. It consisted of a
number of buildings for the family and servants, with an open courtyard in
the middle. He went to the office of his father and saw him sitting and
reading. His two older half-brothers were with him in the office, writing
and helping to manage the tributes they received from far-away. They all
looked up when Chicahua entered. The youth was nervous and anxious whenever
he met his father. He was his youngest son and whatever he did was never
good enough for his father. His father rarely spoke to him anyway, and when
he did it was only to admonish him. His life until now had been an endless
struggle to gain his father's acceptance.

"Yes..? Why do you bother us?" his father asked harshly.

"I captured a warrior in the jungle. I already brought him to the priests
and he will be sacrificed in Tolan," Chicahua explained proudly.

His father's eyes widened and he focused fully on the boy.

Chicahua told the story of the capture of Xipilli, slightly exaggerating
the size of the boy and making him seem older and more powerful.

"Well...you finally surprise me in a good way," his father said somewhat
reluctantly while his two brothers looked jealously at him.

Suddenly there was commotion outside and a commanding voice asked to be let
into the office.  Chicahua's heart beat quicker when he recognized the
voice of the priest.

His father got up and greeted the priest.

"Coyotl, this is a great honor. What brings you here? It has been years
since we met last time," his father greeted the priest.

"I came to ask if your son can accompany us on our journey to Tolan
tomorrow to help guard our captives," the priest explained and nodded to
Chicahua.

"He finally gave honor to our family. I will accompany him tomorrow morning
to the temple," his father replied.  "It seems that the teachers at school
did well. And accompanying you on the journey will further harden his
soul. He can learn a lot from you in how to treat our enemies," his father
added with a cruel grin.

Chicahua was giddy with pride and tried not to show it.

"Good, we need warriors to guard the captives. We usually lose half of our
prisoners on the journey and I do not want any of them to be able to run
away," The priest explained.

The two half-brothers glared enviously at Chicahua but dared not saying
anything. The priest soon left and Chicahua went to wash himself. His
father sent him to bed early but he was not able to sleep until long after
midnight. All too soon he was awakened... He put on his loincloth and was
brought to his father who had already been up for hours. His father held
out his hand and gave him a necklace made of gold.

"This is our family necklace. You have earned the right to wear it. Be
vigilant and kill any captive that tries to flee," he said and handed him
an obsidian knife.

"I have killed many enemies with this knife. Now it is your duty to use it"
he explained as he held out the gleaming black knife.

"Thank you, father. This is a great honor..." Chicahua said and took the
knife and put it inside a leather sheath that he attached to a rope around
his waist.

The father nodded, then they went to the temple. It was early morning and
few people were out yet.  But the temple was already open and when they
entered it they saw a group of about twenty naked captives standing and
being guarded by warriors with spears and knives.

"Which one is yours?" his father asked.

Chicahua blushed and pointed to Xipilli, who was by far the youngest and
smallest of the captives.  The boy looked up and recognized Chicahua and
stared at him with a mix of pleading and infinite sadness. The Aztec boy
felt his heart skip a beat and quickly looked away.

"He is not much of a warrior. But at least he will not be difficult to
guard. See to it that he will feed Quetzalcoatl and next time you can bring
a bigger one," his father said jokingly and grinned.

Chicahua stepped over to the warriors guarding the prisoners and glanced at
Xipilli out of the corner of his eyes. The boy was trembling and shaking
and looked sick with fear. Chicahua was wondering whether the boy would
survive the week-long journey (EARLIER IT IS SAID TO BE 10 DAYS) to Tolan.
The other captives were a mix of youths and older warriors, all naked and
stripped of their jewelry.  Some looked numb with fear and some
defiant. The Aztec boy noted that a few of the older warriors stood close
to Xipilli and tried to calm him. While the boy was lean and muscular, he
was at least a head smaller than the others and trembled uncontrollably.
Chicahua felt strange seeing the boy so disconsolate and wondered why he
was not displaying more pride in the prospect of soon honoring the
feathered serpent god.

The priest stepped forward and fixed his eyes on the warriors.

"We start our journey to Tolan to bring our offerings to Quetzalcoatl. See
to it that no captive flees and be harsh to any who slow us. We cannot take
longer than seven days to arrive in time for the festival of Quetzalcoatl.
I want it to be known that I would rather lose all but one of the captives
than be late," he explained and smiled cruelly.

The warriors nodded and soon they started their journey. The twenty
captives were guarded by ten warriors and were accompanied by the priest as
well as by five of his acolytes who carried food.  They walked through the
city, watched by a solemn crowd. The priest and his acolytes walked in
front, followed by the naked prisoners who were surrounded by the warriors.
Chicahua kept his eyes fixed ahead, feeling proud and very self-conscious.
He saw to it that his black obsidian knife was prominently displayed and
tried to walk with perfect posture to appear taller.

After several hours they left the last outskirts of Tenochtitlan behind and
continued along a rocky trail that went over hills and across fields.
Chicahua's feet began hurting and he admonished himself that he had
forgotten to put on his sandals. The only thing he brought with him was his
loincloth and his knife and some bread that was in a bag tied to the rope
around his waist. He noticed that some of the captives already began
struggling and began limping.

At midday the priest stopped and ordered a short break. The acolytes went
to the captives and gave each of them a small loaf of bread to eat.
Chicahua observed that Xipilli refused to eat and was sitting dejectedly on
the grass, rubbing his feet. None of the warriors talked to the captives,
so Chicahua refrained from approaching Xipilli. He did not want to appear
weak in front of the older warriors.

All too soon the rest was over and they got up and continued. Even though
the priest was old, he walked briskly and seemed to be as tough as old
leather. Already a few of the captives struggled to keep up and had to be
prodded by the warriors. Chicahua felt strangely proud that Xipilli seemed
to be able to walk without problems. At last it became dark and they
stopped at a wide field. The captives were led singly to a small river to
drink and wash, then they were herded together and tied.  Chicahua lay down
too and soon slept. At midnight he was awakened to assume guard duty. He
rubbed his eyes and got up and walked over to the captives. They had been
tied with ropes and so were unable to flee anyway. The moon gave enough
light for Chicahua to recognize Xipilli. The boy was curled up on his side,
sleeping uneasily. Chicahua felt his penis stiffening when he stared at the
taut buttocks of the boy and quickly looked away. Being the youngest, he
had to stand guard until morning. It was boring but he tried to stay
vigilant and whenever a captive moved in his sleep, he watched
attentively. Finally the sun rose and the captives were awakened... They
were allowed to eat some berries and a piece of bread, then the walk
continued.

This time the walk was more arduous than the day before as they had to
climb a small mountain.  The trail became steep and the line of captives
lengthened. They arrived at section of trail where it dropped steeply on
one side.  Suddenly a warrior screamed and pointed to a captive who ran
down the steep incline. Chicahua gasped when he realized that the prisoner
was able to keep his balance even though his wrists were tied to his
back. Chicahua screamed too and pointed, afraid that the captive might be
successful in fleeing. Chicahua started to run down the slope and followed
the prisoner. Then he saw the captive cry out and stumble, an arrow in his
back. Chicahua gasped and skidded to a stop. He looked at the man who was
twitching for a few moments, then went limp and ceased moving.

Chicahua looked up, shocked and feeling numb. He saw a warrior holding a
bow who sneered and then walked away to catch up with the group as if
nothing had happened. Chicahua stared at the dead captive, feeling sick and
weak. Since he was a child he had dreamt of becoming a warrior and of
killing untold many enemies but until now he had never seen anybody being
killed.  He remembered the dead man as having been one of the captives who
had tried to take care of Xipilli.  He had been quiet and distinguished
looking and had kind eyes. And now he was dead and left for the vultures to
feed on.

Chicahua took a deep breath, then he climbed up and followed the group.
Xipilli was still standing, his hands before his mouth, in shock. His slim
body shook and heaved and his legs buckled and he nearly fell. The Aztec
boy quickly grabbed Xipilli by his arm to steady him however the boy barely
reacted and continued staring at the dead man.

Chicahua saw that the priest was looking back at them. He jabbed the boy
roughly, trying to make him walk.

"Walk... please," he whispered.

Then louder, so that the priest could hear it "Walk, you worthless
scum...do you want me to slit your throat?"

The Aztec boy felt bad talking like this but he was desperate for the boy
to start walking. Finally Xipilli began following the group of prisoners
but was walking slightly behind, sobbing and shaking.  The boy turned his
head and looked at Chicahua, his black eyes filled with sadness and
hopelessness.  Chicahua had to look away and fought against his tears. The
rest of the day went by slowly as Chicahua recalled again and again how the
captive had died. Although not tasked with guard duty he could barely
sleep. In the morning he woke up dead tired but still helped distributing
food to the captives and then approached Xipilli to offer him a loaf of
bread.

"Here...you should eat and drink," he said, trying to sound stern but with
his voice breaking.

Xipilli looked up and fixed Chicahua with eyes that were infinitely sad.
Chicahua had to look away and the boy let his head drop and was immobile.
The Aztec boy remained standing for a minute, unsure what to do but Xipilli
was immobile and so he went finally away.

Soon the priest shouted, ordering them to continue the journey. Chicahua
watched Xipilli get up slowly and start to walk with hanging head, staring
down at his feet and never looking up. He fell back further and further and
Chicahua walked beside him to urge him on.

"Walk faster, else the priest will order you be killed so as not to hold us
up," he told the boy.

Xipilli did not answer and continued looking down. Chicahua tried to push
him and even took him by his arm to make him walk faster, but it was to no
avail. It seemed that the boy had given up all hope and preferred to be
killed now rather than to experience the honor of being sacrificed to
Quetzalcoatl.

The priest realized that Xipilli lagged further and further behind the
group. They were now in the lowlands with dense jungle beside them. The
heat and humidity made the walking even more strenuous. Xipilli swayed and
stumbled, obviously at the end of his strength. He hadn't eaten and had
refused to drink water all day. Xipilli saw the priest approaching them.

"Are you out of your mind? Coyotl will kill you if you hold us up,"
Chicahua hissed, desperate for the boy to continue walking.

The priest stood before the naked boy and stared at him with cold, inhuman
eyes. He grabbed Xipilli by his hair and pulled his head back. He looked at
him for a minute then reached down and pulled out a knife.

"What...what are you doing?" Chicahua asked horrified.

"He slows us down. We have no time for this" the priest answered without
looking away from Xipilli.

Coyotl tilted the boy's head back further. Xipilli bared his throat before
the priest without resisting.  The priest raised his arm with the knife to
slit his throat. Suddenly Chicahua felt a blind rage rushing through him
and from the depths of his soul a fierce roar rose from his mouth. The
priest flinched and stared at Chicahua in shock and disbelief. Chicahua
slammed into the priest, knocking him to the ground, then grabbed Xipilli
by the arm and half ran and half stumbled with him into the jungle.

Chicahua had to drag the boy who had reached the limits of his strength
with his hands still tied behind him. They could hear the hysterical
screaming of Coyotl and the shouts of warriors. They were soon in the
eternal half-darkness of the jungle and the dense vegetation swallowed the
screams and noises. Chicahua swept the boy up into his arms and carried
him, running and stumbling deeper and deeper into the jungle. After what
seemed like an eternity he stopped and put the boy down on a patch soft
moss. Chicahua was breathing hard, his body glistening with sweat. He
kneeled beside the boy and untied his wrists.

"What have I done?" he gasped, not yet fully realizing what had happened.

He collapsed next to Xipilli, feeling desperate and nearly nauseous with
fear.

The boy reached out to Chicahua and touched his arm.

"Don't touch me. I hate you," Chicahua screamed. "I have lost everything
because of you," he sobbed.

His chin fell to his chest as he rocked back and forth, sobbing and
shaking. Xipilli, silent, watched with wide eyes.

"Why...? What have you made me do?" Chicahua repeated again and again.

Chicahua, in deep mental anguish, was terrorized as his world came tumbling
down around him. All his hopes and aspirations had been forever crushed. He
would never be a warrior and could never return to his people and he would
be hunted forever by the Aztecs. Deep down he knew it was not Xipilli's
fault but he could not help himself feeling a fervent resentment.

The boys suddenly tensed when they heard faint voices from the warriors and
priests who were looking for them. They seemed to come from far away, but
it was impossible to tell in the jungle.  They could just as well have been
merely a few paces away.

They leapt up and continued running deeper into the jungle. Both were
exhausted but they knew that they could not allow themselves to be
captured. So they ran, staggering, deeper into the dark jungle until, at
long last their reserves of strength completely depleted, they collapsed.

Xipilli sat leaning against the trunk of an immense tree while Chicahua
curled up and sobbed. Xipilli felt deeply conflicted. He hated Chicahua for
having captured him and given him over to the cruel priests. But he also
felt grateful for having been saved by him. He watched Chicahua sobbing and
wanted to hug and console him, but he felt that Chicahua was not yet ready.

The two youths slept uneasily and woke in the early morning. They did not
speak with each other and Chicahua avoided even looking at his former
captive. They found some edible fruits and ate them, then they continued
walking, with no destination in mind.

Both were sweating profusely. The heat and humidity was nearly
unbearable. The ground was soggy and wet. The jungle was gloomy and light
barely managed to shine through the canopy of leaves high over theme. When
it did, they walked through shafts of light where they could see myriad
particles slowly drifting down. Dead insects, motes, vegetation, anything
dead slowly fell to the ground and fed the animals and plants below. The
jungle was frightening to the two boys, everything was tinted in a dark
green light. They could hear noises all around them, shrieks and slithering
sounds and sudden cries. But as frightening as the jungle was, it was still
much better than being caught by the priest.

Coyotl had made it clear that they had to arrive at Tolan before the
sacrifice took place and the two boys were sure that after a few hours'
search he would have had to give up and continue the journey, else the
prisoners would arrive too late for the sacrifice.

After several hours walk the boys took a rest, both exhausted with their
muscles aching. They lay down, far apart from each other, and within
minutes both were in a deep and troubled sleep.

Xipilli was dreaming and sleeping uneasily. In his dream he was endlessly
trying to run away from Coyotl, but always felt the corrupted breath of the
priest down his neck. Coyotl was screaming strangely, as if he could not
breathe. Xipilli woke up confused and still heard gagging and desperate
noises.

He sat up and first did not comprehend what he saw. A green-black striped
vine, as thick as a grown man was wrapped around Chicahua. Then he saw the
legs of Chicahua kicking hysterically and gurgling noises coming from his
mouth. Xipilli suddenly realized that the youth was being strangled by a
gigantic snake. It was difficult to see but it must have been at least as
long as five grown men. It twitched and slowly contracted around the boy,
intending to strangle him. Xipilli stared at it in horror: Chicahua's
kicking became more erratic and frantic. Xipilli ran towards the youth and
was faced by the narrow head of the snake, which hissed and stared at him
with unblinking eyes.

The deep black eyes of the snake reminded him of nobody else than the cruel
priest. He would never forget the cold and unfeeling eyes of Coyotl who had
looked at him as if he were nothing more than an inanimate object.  The
snake looked at him in the same way, as though he was merely food and
nothing else.

Xipilli screamed and hit the snake's head with his fist. The Boa hissed
angrily and seemed to redouble its effort to strangle Chicahua. Xipilli saw
that Chicahua's face was getting blue. The boy looked around, desperately
searching for anything to hit the snake with but there was nothing; no
stone nor stick. Then he saw, partially hidden by the thick body of the
snake, the obsidian knife tied to Chicahua's waist. The Boa constrictor
began to contract rhythmically and sinuously, sensing that the end of its
victim was near.

Xipilli kneeled and groped desperately for the knife and tried to pull it
out of the sheath. The fear and anger gave him unexpected strength and with
one mighty pull he managed to rip the sheath away and the knife fell out.

He grabbed the knife and began slashing into the snake. The Boa spasmed and
hissed. The boy got up and glared at the snake.

"Now you die," he screamed and plunged the knife into the neck and head of
the snake. The obsidian was so sharp that it slashed through the bone and
plunged into the brain of the snake and with one final shudder the Boa
became limp.

Xipilli pulled at the body of the snake with all his strength to get
Chicahua free. At last he managed to free the Aztec boy and dragged him
away from the dead Boa. Xipilli saw with relief that the youth was still
breathing, though it was very shallowly and erratic. Xipilli leaned over
and put his mouth over Chicahua's mouth and blew air into his lungs. He
continued like that for what seemed like hours. Xipilli became dizzy and
light-headed, but he continued to resuscitate the Aztec boy and refused to
give up. Finally, just before he nearly passed out, Chicahua heaved and
coughed and began breathing and sucking in air.

Xipilli collapsed, his head resting on Chicahua's chest. After a while he
got up and collected a large leaf that was moist with water. He took it and
lifted Chicahua's head and slowly gave him some water to drink. The Aztec
boy groaned and swallowed greedily. Xipilli went looking for moss and found
thick clumps of it growing along a trunk of a huge tree. He ripped off a
clump of damp moss and began to slowly wipe it along the sweaty chest and
abs of Chicahua. The moist moss cooled the youth and soon his groaning
ceased and he relaxed slightly.

Xipilli reached out and carefully tugged off Chicahua's soiled
loincloth. Chicahua moaned and tried to lift his head.

"What...what are you doing? What happened?" he croaked weakly.

"Do not worry...everything is fine now" Xipilli said soothingly.

He pulled Chicahua against a tree trunk and sat him up so that he could
breathe easier.

"Relax...you were nearly strangled by a snake. I will wipe you down with
moss to cool you down and relax your muscles," Xipilli explained.

Chicahua closed his eyes and nodded, too weak to talk. He felt the soft
moss gliding over his naked body and the dull pain he felt in his muscles
slowly lessened. He sighed and did not protest when the moist moss want to
his crotch and began sliding gently across his penis and balls. Xipilli
gently pushed him onto his side so that he had access to his buttocks and
crack.

Xipilli threw away the used moss, got a new clump and continued wiping his
genitals. Chicahua spread his legs to give the boy easier access. He
glanced down and noticed that his penis was half hard.

"I am sorry..." he whispered.

"Shh...don't worry...everything is fine," Xipilli whispered gently and
continued wiping his anus and perineum before he went down to the legs.

"Now try to sleep...you nearly died...you have to recover your strength..."
Xipilli whispered and put Chicahua on his side. The Aztec felt the boy
laying down behind him and spooning him. Xipilli wrapped his arm around
Chicahua and placed his palm against Chicahua's chest to ensure that he was
breathing normally.

Chicahua sighed and after just a few moments fell into a deep and dreamless
sleep. Xipilli remained cuddled against the youth, still nervous that
Chicahua might stop breathing and would have to be resuscitated again. He
was relieved to feel Chicahua's heart beat slowly and regularly.

Xipilli snuggled closer against the Aztec boy and wrapped one leg over
him. He had his face against his neck and enjoyed the scent of the boy and
the feeling of the naked body against his. Since he had been captured by
him days ago Xipilli had lived in fear. But now, laying close to his former
captor, he felt oddly secure and protected. He realized that his penis was
slightly stiff, nestling between the taut buttocks of the Aztec
boy. Xipilli sighed and reveled in the feeling of being close against the
boy.  He felt Chicahua's nipple against his palm and slowly rubbed it. But
then soon began snoring softly too, exhausted.

When he awoke it was early evening and the encroaching darkness made the
jungle even gloomier.  Xipilli carefully disentangled himself from
Chicahua, not wanting to wake him. He went over to the snake and pulled the
knife out and began cutting pieces of meat from it. He glanced over to
Chicahua while he did it and saw that he was awake too and watching him. He
took a few strips of meat, squatted beside Chicahua and began feeding him.

Chicahua winced when he tasted the meat but then started chewing and
swallowing greedily.

"I know, it is not very good but you need to gain your strength," Xipilli
said softly.

Xipilli glanced down to Chicahua's crotch and saw that his penis was stiff
against his flat abs. Xipilli did not comment on it and continued feeding
the Aztec boy.

Chicahua also didn't say anything, nor did he try to hide his erection from
the boy. Once Chicahua was sated, Xipilli went to collect moist leaves to
give him something to drink and chew. His penis was stiff too and he also
did not hide it from the Aztec boy. He took his time collecting the leaves,
and glanced back at Chicahua, wondering how he would react. Chicahua
watched him intently, his eyes fixed on him and following him.

Xipilli felt strange and excited. It was not the first time that he was
erect before other boys or people. He had been naked since he was born, so
was no stranger to being hard in front of boys or seeing boys with
erections. But it was the first time that he felt hot and flushed.

Chicahua had similar feelings and his heart was beating quickly. His entire
life he had pretended to only be interested in becoming a warrior. He
rarely played with other boys, and he never even acknowledged to himself
when he was attracted to one. The Aztecs were not very accepting of boys
loving boys. His father was famously intolerant of it and Chicahua often
had to listen to him ranting about how he wanted to have them impaled and
killed. Chicahua was always anxious when his father began talking about men
who loved men and hoped that his father would change the subject
quickly. And he was quite anxious when a few months ago he woke up with his
semen spilled over his belly for the first time, after having dreamt of an
attractive boy. He had managed to bury his thoughts and redoubled his
efforts to become a warrior and to excel at school.

But now he suddenly realized that this was all over. He could never go back
to Tenochtitlan, nor would he - hopefully - ever meet his father again. He
was completely alone and his only companion was the boy who was nearly
killed because of him and still had saved his life. He sat up, struck by
the sudden realization that his old life was behind him and that he was
free to become whatever he wanted to be and to do what felt right to him.

"Thank you," he whispered and Xipilli looked over at him and smiled shyly.

Chicahua's heart was hammering in his chest but he did not want to go back
now.

"You saved my life...I want to thank you," he said, more urgently.

He took a deep breath and reached out with one arm, wanting the boy to come
over to him. Xipilli looked at him quizzically, and then realized that
something had happened to the Aztec boy. He slowly walked over to him, his
heart beating quickly too. His thin penis was rigid and swayed slightly as
he approached Chicahua.

It was a magical moment for both of them, scary and thrilling and
wonderful.

Chicahua continued staring at the naked boy and swallowed. He saw the stiff
penis, still boyish like his and thin but quite long. His exposed cockhead
had a lighter color than his skin, similar to the boy's soles. Xipilli's
chest rose and fell quickly and it was obvious that he was as excited as
himself.  Xipilli had been around him naked for days, but now he saw him in
a completely different light.  Suddenly he recognized the beauty of the
boy. He was slim and graceful and reminded him of a cat, cute and dangerous
looking at the same time. His long neck and round head with wide, almond-
shaped eyes emphasized his feline qualities, as did his hair which was so
black that it had a bluish tint like the pelt of a panther and when he
walked, his muscles moved elegantly under his silky smooth skin. Chicahua
stared at the crotch of the boy. His balls were small but were beginning to
drop. His penis was still boyish but the exposed cockhead was starting to
flare.

Xipilli's thoughts and emotions were similar. He stared at the Aztec boy as
he slowly walked towards him. Chicahua was taller than him by about half a
head and more muscular. He was perfectly smooth all over like himself,
without any pubic hair. When he had cleaned the boy after he had been
attacked by the snake, he had felt and touched his scrotum, still small but
taut and heavy. Chicahua had a slim neck and a beautiful face, slightly
narrower than his. Xipilli had seen how powerful and strong he was. He
easily had kept up with the older warriors during the walk and when he had
carried him in his arms as he ran into the jungle, it seemed as though the
Aztec boy had done it effortlessly.  He took another step, and wanted
nothing more than to snuggle against the Aztec boy, to feel safe and be
protected and not alone anymore.

Chicahua was trembling. Now that he had realized that he had left his old
life behind him, he could not wait for the new one to open before him. He
felt how all his fears and inhibitions and denials were gone. All the
feelings for Xipilli that he had suppressed so successfully during the past
few days came to the fore and he felt his phallus become so hard that it
nearly hurt.

Both boys were inexperienced. Chicahua had masturbated furtively a few
times but always quickly and alone. Xipilli had been more curious and
played often with his penis lately. He had ejaculated already but he
expelled only a clear sticky fluid and did not produce much sperm
yet. Their inexperience and innocence made what was about to happen now
even more exciting and alluring to the two pubescent boys.

Chicahua still felt weak and sore, not yet strong enough to get up. So he
lay down and spread his legs and arms, inviting the boy. Xipilli walked
closer until he stood between Chicahua's spread thighs. The boy carefully
lowered himself on top of Chicahua, staring raptly into his eyes. The Aztec
boy felt the weight of the slim boy as he slowly stretched out on top of
him, his warm and lithe body covering him. The feeling of the boy's
erection pressing against his was wonderful. Chicahua wrapped his legs
around Xipilli, then began caressing the boy's back, at first awkward and
hesitant.

Chicahua parted his lips and Xipilli moved in, his lips brushing lightly
against his. Chicahua moaned when he felt the hot breath of the boy
mingling with his. His hands roamed over the slim sides and back of Xipilli
and he began gently easing his tongue into his mouth. The boy parted his
lips wider and let Chicahua explore. Chicahua felt waves of heat rushing
through his body and without even thinking began thrusting up against the
boy who was draped over him. Xipilli kissed him hungrily and moaned and
Chicahua felt his spit flowing into his mouth.

The boys kissed each other frantically, thrusting and rubbing against each
other. They moaned and yelped and gasped, and it did not take long before
Chicahua's eyes widened and his body heaved and he arched his back.
Chicahua's warm semen spread between them and Xipilli pressed even harder
against the Aztec boy to feel his thin penis pumping and twitching against
his body. Then Xipilli began humping wildly against Chicahua and soon
moaned loudly and convulsed and a small glob of seminal fluid squirted from
his slit. He continued spasming and dry-cumming, his body trying to
ejaculate again and again. The Aztec boy wrapped his hand around the boy
while he felt him climaxing. Finally the two boys calmed slightly.

They kissed each other gently and continued their exploring and caressing,
slower and less frantic.

"My princely jewel," Chicahua whispered.

"My strong one," Xipilli sighed.