House of Reeds

DROWNED VENICE, SIX MONTHS LATER…
NORTH ITALIAN MILITARY DISTRICT,
ANÁHUAC (OLD EARTH)
 
 
The air throbbed with violent sound, the heavy beat of a thousand drums making the floor jump under prince Tezozómoc’s feet. The young Méxica noble pushed through a crowd of gaily ornamented men and women. Feathered headdresses brushed against his face, brilliant paints and jewels flashed at his eyes. The sound grew louder, the basso droning of conch trumpets piercing the thunder of the dance-drums. An arched doorway appeared above the masked heads of the revelers, filled with a pulsating red light. The prince whooped, changing course, shoving aside writhing bare arms gleaming with sweat and scented oil. His bodyguards fell behind, trapped by the chattering mob.
Countless voices were singing, a hoarse, bellowing roar:
 
So it has been said by the Lord of the World,
Huitzilopochtli,
Only a subject,
Only a mortal was.
 
Tezozómoc’s long coat snagged on a woman’s emerald-encrusted snakebodice, and he let the heavy, armor-reinforced leather garmen ... read full excerpt from House of Reeds ebook