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The three of them left the room together and were guided out by other servants of the palace into the streets. The sky was beginning to darken, alive with the yellows, oranges, and vivid reds of the setting sun.
Chapter Eight
Despite Ayala and Lord Eiotan having been very nervous about spending the evening with Cortés, he seemed to be on his very best behavior. They brought him to the most beautiful temples in the city, climbing the stairs and allowing him to see priests in worship and the views of the quickly disappearing sunset. He seemed thoroughly impressed at the massive buildings constructed of white stone, looked genuinely interested as he inquired to their construction, and listened intently as Lord Eiotan or Ayala explained.
After touring the temples, Lord Eiotan led Cortés to the armory, careful not to let on to the size or power of the Aztec army. He simply educated Cortés in some of the developments of new weapons, but strategically left out important details in either the construction or use of each one. He was very careful in the choice of his words.
Cortés ran his hands across a bow and asked what kind of wood it was.
“That one right there is from a young maple. It’s a hard wood that holds much power when an arrow is released from its string,” Lord Eiotan said.
The tour of the armory went very smoothly, and Cortés seemed genuinely impressed. Ayala didn’t sense any more dangerous intent from him, and was beginning to enjoy herself. There was much about the city she was learning as well, since she had seen little of it during her time as a servant in the fields.
“Now, Lord Cortés, unfortunately, the markets are closed at this time of day. But, if there isn’t anything else in the city you would like to see, I would like to show the side of Tenochtitlan that few non-locals ever get to see,” Lord Eiotan said, a sultry smirk taking over his face.
“I think I would like that,” Cortés grinned.
“Then let me take you to our famous House of Pleasure. There you may even find the woman of your dreams,” Lord Eiotan responded, excitement clear in his voice.
Ayala gasped. She had heard whispers amongst her fellow slaves about this place, but had done her best not to pay attention to them. Regardless, the rumors had been that many women were constantly hand-picked for this place. She had worked hard to remain unnoticed, and focused on the jobs she was assigned. She had kept her clothes loose and ill-fitting, as to hide her womanly curves that quickly developed as she got older. Now Lord Eiotan was going to take her there?
She tried hard to school her panicked face before Cortés saw it, but quickly realized she was moments too late. Cortés looked at her with a hunger that chilled her to the bone. She quickly looked away and grabbed Lord Eiotan’s hand, trying to appear excited about where he was taking them.
He led them through the city, taking a few turns through dark alleys, until he came upon a place lit up with a soft red light. Gauzy semi-sheer red curtains were hung in the windows, with candlelight glimmering behind them, creating a warm and sensual environment. Lord Eiotan was welcomed into the foyer by women in sheer red garments that accentuated their busts, as well as their hips. Red bralettes draped across their breasts, and short skirts hugged around their womanly curves. The women all had bare stomachs, as well as bare and very long legs.
The candlelight lit up the room enough so that Ayala could see straight through the sheer fabric. When one of the women turned around, she could see every round curve of her buttocks. Another woman had lush, full breasts, with small pink nipples straining underneath the fabric of her outfit. Ayala’s eyes traveled down her flat stomach to the juncture of her thighs. Neat trim hair was nestled there, clearly visible through the gauzy red fabric. She saw Lord Eiotan’s hands sweep across one of the girl’s breasts and he squeezed her nipples. She squeaked and giggled, playfully slapping his hands away.
He clearly knew these women, she realized. And he knew them well. Her eyes narrowed, a strange anger beginning to simmer from deep within her.
Lord Eiotan and Cortés began to chat with the women, and the three of them were ushered deeper into the building. Lord Eiotan sauntered in with a strange familiarity, as Lord Cortés followed, his eyes wide with wonder, trying to take in as much as possible.
Music made its way to Ayala’s ears. Drumbeats flowed into her, matching her heartbeat as it began to quicken. They came into a large room, draped with much finery. Beds and pillows were strewn about. Men and women cuddled together. Some women were dancing for the men with the beat, and their hands were wandering all over each other—between each other’s legs, all over each other’s bottoms, and playing with each other’s breasts.
A woman was even tied up with soft silks to one of the bedposts while a man was kissing and fondling her breasts. Another woman sat atop a man, riding him in the most hedonistic fashion. The look of utter joy that passed over her face was intoxicating. The place was absolutely wanton. Ayala swallowed nervously and turned her eyes back to Lord Eiotan, watching him.
The two men were led to a small sitting area adorned with pillows. They took a seat and were offered goblets of wine, which both men gladly took. A third goblet was brought for her, and she gulped much of it rather quickly.
Two gorgeous dark-haired, very tan women made their way to Cortés and Lord Eiotan. Ayala drank the rest of her delicious red wine, and was brought another goblet. The women began to dance for them, twirling silk scarves about their bodies as they twirled their hips, dragging their fingers across their bellies and hips. The two men watched with interest as they turned around and bent over, allowing the men to get full views of their perfectly shaped backsides while they continued to dance to the music.
The women began to touch each other for the men’s amusement. They kissed each other, and their bodies melded together, grinding each other. One of the women began to moan.
Cortés could hardly contain himself and pulled the women onto his lap. Her hands began to wander and the women responded quickly to him, melting into his touch.
Lord Eiotan whispered into Cortés’ ear.
“This is my gift to you. Enjoy both women here however you wish. They are here strictly for your pleasure.”
The wine began to course through Ayala’s veins and her anger began to take over. She didn’t want to see anymore. When Lord Eiotan was distracted, she quickly got up and made her way out of the House of Pleasure. She couldn’t stand to see the other women touching him, or even worse, him touching them when all she wanted was for him to touch her.
She wandered through the streets, thinking little. She ended up in the market and made her way toward the place she knew best, the maize fields. The night was silent as she walked through the plants, touching them, feeling the life within the leaves. Finally she stopped walking as she heard sounds in the distance. Footsteps sounded behind her. She was not alone.
She paused, her heart hammering in her throat, and looked behind her. A man was waiting, wat
ching. Her eyes opened wide when she realized she recognized the face.
A black ponytail adorned his head, and heavy gold jewelry pierced through his nose. He was strong, big muscles popping out of the sleeves of his shirt. It was the man who had attempted to hurt that slave girl in the fields; the day Lord Eiotan had rescued her. He did not look happy to see her, and his face darkened as recognition crossed his features.
“You… you’re that little bitch. Thought you were safe from me, huh? Do you know the whipping I received because of your little stunt?” He paused. “I think you should be made to feel the humiliation that I felt. Bitches like you should be punished. And I think I’m just the man for the job.”
