Breath of the Feathered Serpent Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Biography

  Breath of the Feathered Serpent

  Pelaam

  Breathless Press

  Calgary, Alberta

  www.breathlesspress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

  persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Breath of the Feathered Serpent

  Copyright © 2014 Pelaam

  ISBN: 978-1-77101-241-6

  Cover Artist: Angelique Anderson

  Editor: Jen Bradlee

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in reviews.

  Breathless Press

  www.breathlesspress.com

  Dedication

  To my husband with love and thanks.

  Chapter One

  Looking toward his courtyard, Tupac frowned as luminous blue light streaked across the early evening sky. The light faded suddenly, and Tupac couldn’t be sure where it had gone. A falling star. Perhaps it is a good omen for me. I need one. He sighed, and his shoulders slumped with the cares and fears that weighed him down.

  “What is it, my Lord? You are so restless, so distant. Have I offended you in some way?”

  Tupac turned to see the beautiful man that shared his life and his heart rise from the bed and kneel down, pressing his forehead to the floor in obeisance. He strode to him and urged him to his feet. They gazed into one another’s eyes.

  “You have never offended me, Yolotli. Never. In these chambers, I am your lover, not your king. I may be king of this part of the empire.” Tupac swept his arm in an expressive arc. “But I fear what the emissary from Emperor Necalli might expect of me tomorrow. The High Priest, Eztli, wants to make a blood sacrifice of many of my soldiers to ensure we are blessed, but I would see us move away from such killing. Quetzalcoatl hasn’t deserted me, despite my sacrificing animals rather than people.”

  “That is because you are wise and benevolent. Eztli is old and set in his ways. He enjoys death and pain. I’ve seen his face. Surely the gods have no need for the blood of the people these days. Our kingdom is strong and flourishes despite your reluctance to cut out the hearts of your people. Eztli fears you and the love everyone has for you. I’m sure of it.”

  “He tried again to make me give you up, my beloved,” Tupac said. He reached out and stroked Yolotli’s smooth cheek. His beloved’s skin was a faultless golden bronze, but Yolotli had anointed his cheeks with cream to give them a fashionable yellow coloration. His sweet lips, despite their many kisses, retained a little of their cosmetically enhanced redness.

  “He will never stop.” Yolotli held to Tupac as if afraid, and Tupac pulled him tight against his chest.

  “This time he said I was calling the wrath of the gods down upon our kingdom by taking you to my bed. I have a wife, and I have two young kinglings. My wife doesn’t love me. Coyotl married me out of duty, and I respect her place as my queen. But you, and only ever you, will hold my heart.”

  “Is she proving difficult? I thought she liked being swathed in opulence with little to do but stand at your side, now that she’s given you heirs.” Yolotli bit at his lip.

  Tupac recognized the habit as one born of nervousness. “I thought she knew and accepted her place in my life, and more importantly, your place in my heart. I begin to wonder if Eztli isn’t whispering in her ear to turn her against me. She was as uncomfortable as I when we lay together and seemed more than happy that we didn’t need to do so again when the heirs proved healthy. Thankfully my boys continue to thrive, ensuring she and I can live our separate lives.”

  “If it had been possible, I would have borne your children with joy. You would trip over them, there would be so many.” Yolotli spoke passionately, love evident in his eyes, his voice, and his words.

  Tupac kissed Yolotli deeply, needing to taste him, to be able to ground himself in the one he knew loved him selflessly. “I know, my sweet one.”

  “Instead you have my heart, such as it is. Now and forever. Our land and our people are rich and prosperous. I fear and distrust Eztli. He calls for bloodshed again and again. Some still respect him as High Priest, although many see him as a relic of a bygone age. He’s cold and cruel.” Yolotli shivered.

  Tupac pulled him close and felt the heart of his beloved beating against his own chest. He then urged Yolotli onto the bed. “Let me lose myself in you for a few moments, my beloved. Then I must think and plan, perhaps take a walk to clear my head.”

  “Do not walk alone.” Yolotli clung tightly to Tupac, fear in his expressive eyes. “I fear for your safety.”

  “I will take care. I promise.” Tupac kissed Yolotli again as he lowered him onto the bed. He nudged Yolotli’s leg with his knee and took his place between widespread thighs. As he kissed over the silken skin of his beloved’s chest, he slid a finger into Yolotli’s hidden depths. He was still slick from their previous lovemaking.

  “Take me, my love,” Yolotli begged.

  Tupac grasped his cock and urged it into welcoming depths. Sighs of pleasure rose into the air. Tupac fondled Yolotli’s length until it too was hard, and his lover writhed, moaning his name. He leaned down and captured Yolotli’s lips. His tongue sought its mate, and the agile muscles rubbed sinuously against one another.

  He found a hard, fast rhythm and tried to show his love with mouth, hand, and manhood. The tight heat surrounding him contracted. Once, twice, and then Yolotli shuddered through his release. Little seed resulted despite the intensity of his climax, but this was not their first love making of the night. Tupac followed swiftly, pushing as deep as he could, wishing he could remain buried in Yolotli’s love.

  He remained on top of his lover. His face hidden in sweet-smelling hair, inhaling the scent of musk and the perfumed oils Yolotli used until his depleted shaft slid from its haven. He lifted his head and gazed down into the eyes of the one man he knew he could trust with his life.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “Today, tomorrow, a thousand years from today. I will always love you.”

  “And I you, Tupac.”

  Tupac caressed Yolotli’s cheek before standing. He wound his maxtlatl around his waist and threw a tilmatli over his shoulders. “I will only walk within the palace garden, and I will take my bodyguard with me.�
� Tupac tied a scabbard to his thigh that would be hidden by his maxtlatl, and into it he slid a knife. “And I, too, am armed. Do not forget I am a trained warrior, my love.”

  “I remember,” Yolotli said.

  “Good. Rest a while. I will be back soon.” Tupac kissed Yolotli and left the room. He waited a moment while Atl, his bodyguard, found a soldier to stand at the door and protect Yolotli, and then he headed for the courtyard.

  Tupac breathed deeply and enjoyed the crisp, night air. His thoughts were scattered, and he needed to gather them by morning to be ready for anything that may come. Am I too soft with my people? I have never thought so. We prosper without Eztli’s passion for bloodshed. Oh great Quetzalcoatl, will you not send me a sign?

  He turned to make another circuit of the courtyard, when a glint of blue in the dark green plants caught his eye. He remembered the falling star and hurried over. Moving some foliage, he looked at the source of the blue glow. It was a stone, shaped like an egg, and sparkled the color of a cloudless sky. There were a few smaller chips of the blue stone in the dirt around the place where it landed.

  Tupac picked it up and weighed it in his hand. It seemed unduly heavy for something smaller than his palm. He scooped up the fragments and headed towards the entrance to his palace. Perhaps this is Quetzalcoatl’s answer to my many prayers. As he has gifted the stone to me, I will gift it to the man who holds my heart. Maybe Quetzalcoatl will look with even more favor on such a gesture.

  ***

  The next day, Tupac dressed in a brightly colored maxtlatl decorated with golden thread. Yolotli chose turquoise ear plugs for him, as a dedication to the Feathered Serpent. Yolotli also helped him to put on one of his most elaborate headdresses, one adorned with gold and quetzal feathers. Tupac wished his beloved could be with him, but instead they kissed tenderly before he left his quarters.

  Tupac greeted the emissary and was relieved the man seemed relaxed. Had he been tense, Tupac would have been certain the news was bad. Instead, he found that Emperor Necalli was pleased with him and the way he ruled. The tributes he had to offer to the emperor were increased, but they remained easily within his reach.

  His queen was polite but cool to the emissary. However, when she gazed in Tupac’s direction, Coyotl’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and loathing. Tupac ignored her. He was uncertain what could be the cause for her ill-temper. She wanted for nothing. He would even turn a blind eye if she wanted a lover.

  His main concern was Eztli. The high priest glowered at him at every opportunity, although he was deferential to the emissary. Tupac hoped that the good luck the stone from the god Quetzalcoatl had brought him with his dealings in regard to the emperor would apply equally to his wife and the priest.

  The time passed slowly for Tupac. He hated pretending to be happily married to Coyotl when his arms ached to hold Yolotli. Fortunately, he had been trained from a young age to keep his inner feelings well hidden. He smiled and nodded as the meal progressed.

  Relief washed over him when the ceremonial feast ended, and he could finally return to his private quarters. Yolotli rushed into his arms and kissed him.

  “Did all go well, my love?” he asked.

  “It did. The emperor is pleased with me and the tributes we offer. He wants more, but only a token increase. The emissary is happy. He enjoyed the banquet and is currently occupied with a couple of my most talented concubines. But Eztli and Coyotl behaved oddly. They were hostile the whole time. I feared they would say or do something.”

  Yolotli pulled out the blue stone that was tucked inside his maxtlatl. “I prayed to Quetzalcoatl to keep you save. My prayers were answered.”

  Tupac kissed his beloved, holding his lithe body hard against his own. A knock at the door was as loud as it was unexpected. Tupac frowned. He’d given orders that he was not to be disturbed.

  The door opened to reveal his bodyguard and one of the young priests Eztli liked to surround himself with. He surrounds himself with many beautiful youths, yet he would deny me the companionship of just one who loves me as I love him.

  “Forgive me, my King, but the boy says he has been instructed by Eztli to escort you and Yolotli to the temple,” Atl said.

  “For what reason?” Tupac asked. Shock and a hint of fear made his voice sharp. Yolotli stepped closer to him. He slid an arm around his lover’s waist.

  The temple boy was clearly afraid. His body trembled, and his eyes were large. “Please, my King. All I know is Lord Eztli said that if you failed to return with me, he would seek an audience of the emperor’s emissary. The queen was there with him, as well.”

  “There are a couple of Eztli’s temple guards outside, my King. If you answer this call, I will go with you,” Atl said.

  Tupac nodded at his bodyguard. Had there only been the boy, he’d have sent Atl for more of his personal guard. However, he had no intention of facing Eztli without another trained warrior at his side. His instincts warned him of danger, and he had long-since learned to listen to them. He inclined his head towards Yolotli.

  “You have my silver gift to you?” he asked.

  Tupac hated to see the flash of fear in Yolotli’s eyes, but his beloved nodded. “I have, and I have the gift from Quetzalcoatl. He will keep us safe.”

  “Very well. Let us go.” Tupac gently pushed the temple boy ahead of him with Yolotli close behind him. His bodyguard moved last. As he exited the room, Tupac stood tall and glowered at the temple guards. “You two will lead the way.”

  The men looked at one another for a moment, and Tupac was certain they’d been instructed to bring up the rear where they couldn’t be observed. “Do you dare defy your king? I will have your hearts cut out and crush them myself. Now go!”

  He rarely shouted or used such threats, and the tactic made both all the more frightening to the guards. They immediately turned and started to walk ahead. As they did, Tupac leaned down to whisper in the temple boy’s ear. The youth looked at him for a few seconds and then ran quickly and silently in the opposite direction. I can only put my faith in the gods to keep Yolotli and me safe.

  As he walked into the temple, the guards stepped aside and remained at the doorway. Tupac glanced back. His own bodyguard stood facing them. Atl held his sword in his hand. If they tried to attack, Atl would be the first line of defense.

  He turned to face Eztli and his wife who stood at the back of the room next to the temple altar. Tupac pressed his hand against Yolotli’s arm to indicate his lover should remain where he was. He continued forward and stared dispassionately at Eztli and Coyotl. He looked from one to the other, and when neither spoke, he glowered at Eztli. “What is so important that you dare command your king to come here?”

  “Your relationship with Yolotli makes you unfit to rule,” Eztli said. “I intend to bring your rule to an end.”

  “And how do you expect to accomplish this?” Tupac tightened his grip on his sword and eased his body into a fighting stance without taking his gaze from Eztli.

  “You and Yolotli came to the temple to pray. Your wife and I found your bodies here, along with that of your guard. I will regrettably never uncover your killer’s identity, and your wife will rule, with my guidance, until your oldest son comes of age.” Eztli shrugged. “Very sad for your widow and sons, but inevitable. Your failure to worship Quetzalcoatl as he deserves brought down his wrath. It will take many sacrifices to make him smile upon us once more.”

  “You want nothing but power for yourself by keeping my people in fear of their lives,” Tupac said, his voice dripping with scorn. “And as for you, Coyotl, I gave you all you asked for.” Tupac glanced at his wife. “And yet you would betray me.”

  “You have never been as a husband to me,” Coyotl said. “You prefer to lie with that.” She pointed at Yolotli.

  “And you never wanted to lie with me as a wife.” Tupac’s voice was low and angry. “You slept with me just to conceive my sons. I gave you everything you ever wanted. You never loved me any more than I
loved you. You have been swayed by Eztli’s tongue, and so you will suffer the same consequences.”

  He raised his sword ready. At a shout from Eztli, Tupac parried a hard blow from the priest’s sword and heard the sounds of fighting behind him. Shouts and the clash of swords told Tupac that his guard was dealing with Eztli’s men. The priest himself was also a proficient warrior, but Tupac fought just as hard, not just for his own life, but that of his beloved Yolotli.

  He pressed the priest furiously with blow after blow and had succeeded in forcing Eztli to fall back when Coyotl tripped him. Tupac fell to his knees and struggled from the position to parry the priest’s next blow. He heard Yolotli scream his name and call upon Quetzalcoatl to save him. From the corner of his eye, he saw a strange blue mist travel quickly from the stone Yolotli held in his hand toward Eztli.

  Coyotl screamed as the priest turned towards Yolotli, and the mist hit him in the chest. Eztli’s body glowed blue for a second or two, and then he crumpled to the floor. Tupac didn’t waste time. He twisted around and thrust his sword through Coyotl’s heart. She would be no threat to him or Yolotli again.

  He rose to his feet just as more of his guards entered the temple. His bodyguard had already killed one of Eztli’s men. The other was being hacked to death by the newly arrived warriors. He hurried to take Yolotli in his arms. “It’s over, my love.”

  “I heard lord Yolotli call to Quetzalcoatl. The god sent his breath to save King Tupac.”

  Everyone turned to look at the temple boy who crouched at the base of one of the great pillars.

  “Quetzalcoatl answered the prayer of the man who has devoted his life to me,” Tupac said loudly, taking advantage of the boy’s words. He watched with growing elation as his warriors dropped to one knee before him, their eyes filled with awe. “He has given our relationship his blessing. Take the bodies and burn them, then scatter the ashes beyond the city. They will have no place of rest. When the emissary has left, there will be a ceremony to confirm Yolotli, who has Quetzalcoatl’s favor, as my royal consort.”