Breath of the Feathered Serpent
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.
