We Come only to Dream: Songs from the Mat of the Eagles

Cast of Characters: May I remind you that my Characters are immortal. This is caused by the fact that when you play Aztecs, your Ruler becomes immortal if he is not killed in 1521...
(I will be adding names as they become available in the story)


1. Angry Bumblebee, the Great Speaker of Mexica:



2. Precious Broken Plume, wife of Angry Bumblebee:



3. Scarlet Mist, the Snake Woman, Minister of Internal Affairs of the Mexica Empire:



4. Madame Laura, the Mistress of The Retreat (Rome's best pleasure house). EDIT: Before her death:



4.a. And this is Madame Laura after her death, as a spirit within the Obsidian Dagger:



5. The Judge:



6. Hungry Coyote, father of Precious Broken Plume and Minister of War in the Mexican Council. Notice the blue colour on his face, the symbol of service to Lord Commandantl:

Many thanks for your posts, guys! Temple dedications are coming right after the first conquests!!



Passepartout, you are still the Lord of the Chase! It's not a main deity for Aztecs (being the main God of the defeated Zapotecs), but it has rebel powers. In a way, a reverse with Lord Eochaitl, your eternal rival.

Norg, Judas Maccabeus used to be Quetzalcoatl... would you like some role? I got a couple. OK if not.

Judge, How about a temple in Tunisia? (am I giving away too much?)

Commandante, thanks mate! Lord of the Rain was big with Aztecs too... if you wish to continue, that is!

The Dream of a World

And, O friends,
hear the drean of a world:
Each spring gives us life,
the golden ear of corn refreshes us,
the tender ear of corn becomes a necklace for us.
We know that the hearts
of our friends are true!



[color=66FFFF]Angry Bumblebee was suddenly awake. For a moment he thought he was still dreaming because he was not ashore any more but the room around him was unbelievable: a typical dark and suffocating European alcove, with excessive furniture and decorations. He was lying on a bed which was too soft, under a blanket which was too warm. The ceiling was of red wood, with bad paintings of some celestial creatures the Europeans called ‘Angels’. He felt the sounds and smells and movement of a ship around him.

A heavy oak door in the far end of the room flew open, and a woman walked in.

He understood. Of course! This woman was Precious Broken Plume, his wife. And this ship was the one he bought in Andalusia from a Portuguese trader. Bought very expensively, for this ship was rumoured to have travelled to Cathay, returning safely.

‘What a curious dream I had, Plume,’ he said.

‘A dream? How did you know it was a dream?’

Angry Bumblebee looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean how did I know?’

‘Dreams and reality, which is which? I can never say.’

‘That was undeniably a dream. I saw myself as … guess who? … a Great Speaker of Tlaxcala!’

The woman laughed, as she sat at the bed near her husband. A servant walked in behind her, bringing breakfast.

‘So what did you see in your dream? Was I there?’

‘Yes. And you know what name you had?’ he cleared his throat. ‘Delicious One! Sorry for that… Only a dream, after all.’

Precious Broken Plume laughed. ‘Hmm,’ she said.

As they ate their breakfast, sprinkled with blood of a Spanish slave for a good day blessing, they discussed their plans. They studied the maps which Angry Bumblebee’s moles acquired from the naïve officials and traders in the ports of Andalusia, and the Great Speaker tried to convince his wife that they should land in Tuscany, a small independent city, and strike at the soft under-belly of Europe. She laughed, pointing at some one-province minors in North Africa.

‘Wouldn’t they be an easier prey?’

‘Easier? You women… always looking for simple solutions.’[/color]

Thanks Sytass I hope so too! I am playing this one on a laptop which I promised my wife I will *never* try to improve, so it should be safe now

--

These are the maps that the royal couple studied over their breakfast:


Their homeland, the Empire of Mexico-Tenochtitlan.



Europe, Middle East and North Africa, ripe for their taking.



The unknown continent South of their native lands.



The fabulously rich East Indias, Cathay, Japans and other Asian lands.

[color=66ffff]As it turned out, Precious Broken Plume's intuition was worth listening to: Tuscany was beyond the grasp of the Mexica expeditionary force for the moment. A garrison of 31,990 men armed with muskets and cannon, even though most of them were mercenaries from Schwyz and Bourgogne, were far too strong for the 25,000 Mexica horsemen with their obsidian swords.[/color]


Pondering the wisdom of attack from the coast of Tuscany.


[color=66FFFF]‘Well,’ Angry Bumblebee said, as his flagship sailed around the rock with a castle on the Litorale della Colomba Nera. ‘I guess you were right, dear.’

‘To Tunisia?’ she asked, laughing.

‘Nope. I’m taking my ships to… Tripolitania.’

Precious Broken Plume smiled. ‘A wise decision for such a small band of adventurers as ours,’ she said.

‘You know, I still can’t stop thinking of turning back and sailing all the way up North, to Friesen. Also an independent city, if these maps can be believed.’

‘You wouldn’t want us to land right next to the Austrian monster, would you dear?’

He did not reply.[/color]


The fort of Tuscany, inaccessible for the moment, greets the Mexica with a salute from their cannon.

[color=66FFFF]In the Land-Where-One-Somehow-Lives, in the Distances-Which-No-One-Can-Measure, a conversation was happening between a star and a galaxy, between an atom and a universe, between a Son and a Father. Their voices never existed yet they filled everything and anything in Existence; they were never alive yet they pulsated with most vibrant energy in every being and creature; they never died yet they knew everything about death.

‘That was a good lesson, Father,’ the star said, sending myriads of long protuberances of its plasma towards the nearest planet, and admiring the play of the vivid colours against the depthless cosmos, and the coming murder of the dead planet, and most of all it’s own power.[/color]

The star destroying the planet

[color=66FFFF]‘What have you learned,’ the galaxy asked.

‘Nothing makes difference. Creation and destruction is the same thing. One is a part of another; one exists because of another. Those who create must learn to destroy their creation. I created this planet; here I watch it evaporate. In my dream, I created an empire; and it got destroyed in an instant by forces which I do not understand but which I somehow brought to being.’

‘Indeed, an important lesson.’

‘I thank you Father for the opportunity.’

The Father did not reply.

‘What is my next lesson, Father.’

‘It is of your choosing.’

‘Funny you say that, Father. Who but not You can know the fastest way to becoming You?’

‘You go at your own pace. You make your decisions. You make your decisions…’ the voice of the galaxy began to trail off, powerful still, and then it began to change, inexplicably, filling the star with tremor, and then it rolled back in full power and filled every atom of the star with unstoppable pulsation.

‘Always, always your own decisions!’ The voice was now screaming inside the star, tearing it apart from within, shaking it and rolling it in all directions. ‘And you pretended to listen to me!’

‘I am sorry Father, I am so sorry!..’

‘Father? Will you ever wake up?!’

The star opened its eyes. ‘Plume!’ Angry Bumblebee, for it was of course him, sat up in his bed. His wife was leaning over him, shaking him out of his sleep. His mind was still half way between reality and the powerful dream in which he was a star.

‘Always your own decisions!’ She sounded hurt.

Angry Bumblebee, for he did not yet understand what she was referring to, decided to be careful:

‘Sorry. And… what do you think about it?’

‘I know only what I’ve heard. And in this case, you know what would happen?’

‘What?’ he hated to feel like a fool.

‘All the Catholics will have a perfectly legal cause to attack us, if we take this city!’

Finally he understood. ‘Ah that’s what bothers you. Don’t worry. This is exactly what I am after.’

She waived her hand in frustration. ‘You know, sometimes, understanding you is completely beyond me.’

He caught her hand, and held it firmly. He needed that moment to come to himslef, to return the world where there were life and death, and where creation and destruction were as far apart from each other as two opposites could ever be. ‘Listen. I understand that it pains you that I am not listening to your plan. But consider.’

He jumped out of the bed, and flew open the box with the maps. ‘Look! Consider this. We will roll over the Muslim provinces with no issue; for their armies are weak. But… we will end up with a lot of poor land that would need heavy policing to maintain some semblance of law an order! It’s so much better to go after the Italians.’

‘Yes, My Lord.’

It was now his turn to make a gesture of desperation. ‘No need to go official with me.’

There was a knock on the door.

‘Thanks goodness!’ he said. ‘Yes, come in!’

Precious Broken Plume has just enough time to close her husband's nakedness with a blue ritual cloth, before the door opened and a servant crawled in on his knees.

‘I’ve disturbed you. I beg mercy.’

‘What have you, tell me.’

‘We have entered the vicinity of Rome, My Master, My Mistress,’ the servant ceremoniously kissed the floor first in the direction of Angry Bumblebee, then in that of Precious Broken Plume.

‘Excellent. Now dress me,’ the Great Speaker turned to his wife: ‘If you excuse me, My Lady.’[/color]