Chapter Twenty-One

“Stop your crying,” he hissed, disgust thick on his lips. “It is an honor to be chosen as a sacrifice. Your death will bring saving rains this dry season.”

The word death sent her into hysterical sobs. “I…don’t…want to …die!” she screamed between sobs.

The guards surrounding her hated her for her cowardice. One was making a great effort not to hit her. The priest’s face twisted in anger behind his mask, then suddenly changed, perplexed.

“Then why,” he asked with a restrained voice, “did you volunteer yourself as a sacrifice to Tlaloc. It is a great honor and privilege to be chosen, especially this year with the New Fire Ceremony, but only the willing should submit to the gods. Only slaves and prisoners are sacrificed against their will.”

“I am not here by choice,” she snapped. Burning tears had already streaked the carefully painted makeup. She wiped the remaining wetness away with the back of her hand.

“What?” the priest demanded. Fury lined his face. “What do you mean, it was not your choice? An unwilling sacrifice will not please Tlaloc as a humble servant would. It may anger him and cause him to withhold the life giving rain.” His eyes flitted rapidly around the mesa. “Who has done this?”

“My village leaders hoped to gain Tlaloc’s favor above other villages. There has been sickness and drought there for several summers. They knew I was born on the day of Tlaloc. They seemed to think that it was fitting I should be given back to him on his blessed day,” Kivera said. Vile anger filled the last statement. “I was unwilling to go, but I turn sixteen today. Next year I would be too old to sacrifice to Tlaloc. My father had kept them from taking me in the past, but with this year also being the year of the New Fire, the village elders would wait no longer.”

Kivera took the most defiant stance she could muster. “They stole me from my bed!” she screamed. “In the middle of the night they killed my father and tied me up and carried me away.” Her stance softened. Her anger dissipated, replaced by fear and grief. “Please help me,” she begged. “I don’t want to die.”

“Stop sniveling!” He paced a few steps. “Regardless, you should be proud to be offered to Tlaloc, not crying on the ground begging for rescue!”

Shame for her actions had no place in Kivera’s heart or mind. “Please! You must help me. Please!”

A muscled hand slapped her face, leaving rising red welts. He shuddered, struggling to restore his calm. Torn between his duty and desire to please his god, and the terrified girl before him, a feral growl escaped his throat. “You do not willingly submit to Tlaloc, but there is no one else! There must be a sacrifice. There must!” He turned to her glaring. “You must submit!”

“No! I will not die for any god!”

“Tlaloc will be angered. The rains will not come. Sickness will spread. This will all be on your head. You must submit!”

“Never!” Anger shook her body. “The gods are immortal. Why do they need my blood? I will not submit,” she growled.

“The gods need blood to be sustained. Since they have no blood of their own, we must offer them ours. You foolish girl. You know this! Every child knows this. You must die, to save us all.”

He raised the obsidian blade high above his head. Her chest heaved in strangled gasps and pleas for mercy.

“No!” she screamed relentlessly, her eyes wide with terror. “I will do anything you want. Anything. Please, don’t kill me. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to die,” she sobbed helplessly. Tied to a stone altar, she begged for her life. “I’ll do anything.”

The priest’s blade faltered, still held high above his head. Slowly his hands fell back to his sides. Eyes glazing over, he lifted his face to the sky. Perfectly still, he listened. Even Kivera could not help reducing her mewling and begging to a quiet stare of amazement.

Finally, his faced slackened. Eyes focused once more. The oily black blade twitched in his hand. A painful smile creased his features.

He lowered the wooden mask from his face. The high priest’s skin was smooth and unblemished. Younger than any other high priest in remembered history, he was revered by all of his fellows, and many believed that he had risen higher than any other in his standing with the gods. His next words confirmed those beliefs.

“Tlaloc has spoken to me. He will not accept an unwilling sacrifice.”

The bound woman gasped, but a vicious snarl quelled her relief instantly.

“Tlaloc will accept the Eunuchs,” he gestured to her guards, “as sacrifices this day, if you are willing to give up all of your daughters to Tlaloc on the last year of their childhood. If you do this, Tlaloc will allow you to live through this day.”

Kivera’s hesitated only a second. “Yes, yes I will do this. I will give my daughters to Tlaloc if he will only let me live. I will do it,” she cried, relief flooding her soul.

Her bindings were cut from her hands and the covenants were made. Her tear streaked face lifted upward to the heavens in pure exalted joy. The sun shone on her face, burning her eyes. She blinked only once.

***

I opened my eyes. The room was dark, a shock after the bright Aztec sun. My eyes burned with unshed tears. I pressed myself against Tanner’s still sleeping form and knew I was facing the end. “No,” I whispered as I cried, “please, no.”