AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Aztec Empire, Tenochtitlan, 1519
Late fall
Ayala wiped an arm across her forehead, sweat beading all over her face. She glanced up at the sun, squinting at its harshness. It beat down without mercy. She peeked around, seeing how quickly she was moving in comparison to the other slaves in the fields. It was hard to see anyone over the tall maize plants, but she could tell she was a little behind. Ayala took a deep breath and hurried along with her work, gathering as much maize as possible in her basket. The day continued on, the sun moving across the sky far too slowly for her liking. Finally sunset marked the end of another hard workday. She made her way toward the storehouse, in order to drop off what she had collected.
Suddenly, she heard a commotion to her left, breaking the silence of the hot day. She heard some yelling and scrambling, followed by a female scream. Dropping her gathering without a second thought, she worked her way to the sounds. Pushing the tall stalks out of her way, Ayala began to run, hearing the screams become more and more frantic. She came to a clearing and saw two bodies, one small and feminine mostly hidden by another—a very strong, large male.
It took no time at all for Ayala to figure out what was going on. The woman’s dress had been ripped, possibly in the fight against the larger male. She was underneath him, her wrists swallowed up in only one of the man’s hands. The other hand was working its way down her dress, slowly ripping it more and more, as his hands ventured down her waist. Ayala couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she knew what she had to do. She raced forward and jumped on the man’s back, slamming her fists onto his back repeatedly, then grabbed his tunic and pulled.
A harsh growl emerged from the man as he realized that he was no longer alone. He let go of the woman’s wrists and tried to grab at Ayala. She was too quick for him as she snatched at his face, clawing for his eyes. He yelled out once more and rose a bit, trying to get to his feet. He staggered backwards, unused to Ayala’s weight on his throat. Other people were starting to arrive now, a small circle forming around the group. Hands grabbed for Ayala’s shoulders, trying to pry her off of the man. They pulled at her arms, stomach, and legs, and quickly overpowered her small frame. Arms held her wrists still, and no matter how she struggled, she could not get free. She stopped moving, realizing the fight was futile. Ayala gasped for air, tendrils of fear beginning to take hold. She hadn’t thought of the consequences of her actions; she’d just acted on instinct.
The man who Ayala jumped at finally stood up straight and turned around. A glare so powerfully angry glimmered over his features. He was bald, although he had a single black ponytail on the top of his head, and his pierced nose was adorned with heavy gold jewelry. A chain linked his nose-ring to an earring situated at the top of his ear. He straightened his tunic and brushed off his pants. He was breathing heavily with anger; he was seething with it. The other woman was also coming to her feet, struggling to keep her modesty by holding her shredded dress closed. Tears coursed down her face, but she remained silent. She was tiny, very thin and extremely fragile-looking. She kept her eyes on the ground, and refused to look up at Ayala in any way.
“You,” the man growled. “You do not know your place. A woman such as yourself, but a lowly slave, should never, ever raise her hand at a man. Maybe I should teach you a lesson, right here, right now.”
Ayala stayed silent, lifted her head, and dared to meet his eyes. She would not show fear, not to him, quickly realizing that he must be the head field master. Swallowing deeply, Ayala bravely met his eyes.
The man stared at her, almost daring her to defy him. She did nothing, frustrating him further. He walked up to her, each foot slamming the ground with shattering force. He swung his arm back, and Ayala saw what was coming. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the slap to fall. Seconds passed, and his hand never fell to her face. She opened one eye warily, wondering why the sharp sting had never burned across her cheek.
Surprise glimmered on her features. There was another man behind the large man. His arm held the large man’s arm, stopping it from swinging to hit her. Ayala slowly opened both her eyes and took in the sight. The other man was slimmer, yet with very clear muscle tone rippling under darkly tanned skin. His face was striking, hazel-green eyes staring back at her. Strong cheekbones accentuated his no-nonsense demeanor; power emanated from every pore. His dress was simple. A tunic of soft beige leather hugged his upper body. A pair of matching pants flowed around his waist. However, the drastic simplicity of his dress did little to hide the power that this man clearly held.
The large man who had tried to slap Ayala looked back quickly, growling at whoever was stopping him from delivering quick justice. Once his eyes fell on the other man, he quieted quickly and withdrew his arm.
An apology flew out of the large man’s mouth so quickly that Ayala nearly laughed in triumph, but she held back due to a rising fear. Who was this man?
“My apologies, sir. I was only trying to solve an issue for you, something too trivial for a man of your standing,” he paused. “Sir,” he added on for good measure.
A quick look from the other man silenced him. With only a glance, the large man moved away. He did not say another word.
“Release her,” the man commanded. Ayala quickly felt her body liberated of the hands that held her, allowing the blood to return to her numbed fingers. The man’s eyes met hers, and Ayala felt herself shrink back. Her legs trembled, fear beginning to bubble in the pit of her stomach. And yet, she forced herself to stand tall and take whatever this man was to do to her, even if it meant death.
