Aztec Boys

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.