Dirk van den Boom - The Emperor's Men 8 - Stormy Heavens

A worthy deed. A necessary act.

Inugami turned, sword still raised. Next to him stood Chitam, the king of Mutal – a title that lost value every day, and this was not only the view of the Japanese. In fact, Inugami was in the process of contesting the power behind it. To be more precise, with the severed head of the inferior ruler, the captain had also cut off a lot of Chitam’s power, and he waved his bloody sword like a scepter.

Finally he lowered his arm with the blade and left the top of the temple building on which he had carried out the execution. All sorts of rituals would follow that had to do with the Mayan religion and into which Inugami was disinterested. He sensed that he could not maintain this ignorance forever if he wanted to achieve Mayan loyalty on this spiritual level as well, if he wanted them to follow him with body and soul in all things. But he first had to reform the Mayan religion. The practices that did not help him had to go – human sacrifice, for example, the decision to wage wars according to the status of the stars and not when it seemed strategically wise. He had to reinforce the religious aspects where they were useful to him, but everything had to be more efficient. From now on, every conquest would upset the military practices of this people. In former times, Saclemacal would have been conquered, one would have set an example – just as Inugami had just done –, and afterwards, Mutal would have left with a promise of tribute after installing a new ruler, someone, from whom it was hoped that he would not cause any trouble during his lifetime. Sometimes that worked and sometimes it didn’t; indirect exercise of power depended heavily on the victor’s enduring prestige and ability to maintain a permanent threat. As memory faded, it became more likely that the once defeated developed the opinion that their defeat should be seen as a historic event and that there were no political consequences involved anymore.

Inugami would not allow that. Saclemacal would not be free again. The smaller city and its outskirts were the first building block of his new empire. He would appoint a governor who would always do exactly what Mutal ordered him to do. The road between the two cities would be expanded, and he would set up a daily messenger service. The couriers would walk but would exchange the latest news and orders every day – orders that were supposed to be executed, otherwise the consequences would be felt immediately. A new state could not be erected on any non-binding agreements.

Saclemacal would thus remain firmly in the grip of Mutal. The city’s warriors would fight alongside Inugami. The way was mapped. Other cities had taken part in the attack on Mutal, and other royal heads had to detach themselves from their shoulders. The counterattacks were legitimate; no one in the neighborhood could blame Mutal.

Inugami had no illusions. As soon as word got around that the conquered cities would be firmly incorporated into the Mutal’s dominion, resistance would increase. Then, he knew, the real war would begin, the war about absolute supremacy in Central America. Inugami knew the risks. It could, of course, go wrong. He needed the help of people who were fallible. But if he didn’t try, he would throw away his life here in the distant past and live an undignified existence. Others might get used to it, get an Indian girl pregnant, and grow old and fat. Inugami was not ready for this.

He did great things.

He made history.

Or at least he would die trying.

He walked along the ranks of his warriors, silently taking their testimonies of honor. The men would be rewarded. That night was theirs. Inugami would let the reins slide, close his eyes. No looting, no rape – but everything was allowed up to this limit, and the city had to make the warriors feel good.

The good mood of his soldiers was in the interest of those who were controlled by them.

He disappeared into the palace of the King of Saclemacal and left the crowd behind. Here, in the chambers of the dead, only his bodyguard and the servants of the executed king awaited him, submissive and ready to carry out his orders.

Achak, the general of the King Chitam, also waited here, and now, Inugami wanted to accept that, his general, intoxicated with victory and Chi, whom he had plentifully awarded himself after the triumph. His face was red. He had cleaned his armor, his long obsidian knife, with which he had devotedly sliced open the bodies of his enemies. The man was far from young, but the battle seemed to give him unprecedented energy. He had driven through the ranks of enemies like a wisp and had taken one life after another, with such a fervent enthusiasm that even Inugami had been scared for a moment. It was as if he had released a demon on his enemies who had devoured, with the greatest devotion, the blood and suffering of his opponents, insatiable and full of strength.

Achak was a good general. He had prepared the battle thoroughly and was always ready to learn even more effective methods of murder. He had used the small spear catapults with enthusiasm. He was already talking about larger models that could be used to fire more than just spears, gravel, many pointed stones that drove through the ranks of the enemies like a cloud of death, slitting their skin, mutilating their faces and making them blind with pain, willing recipients of the deadly blow from the hands of soldiers who only had to finish what the projectiles had started.

Achak had painted this with a passion that the Japanese didn’t fail to recognize. In fact, after the victory celebrations, they would start building more weapons, thereby strengthening their capabilities. Anyway, the old general was his man, in every way. His loyalty to the king, to Chitam, was only on the surface. His heart belonged to Inugami, as long as it gave him the opportunity to shed the blood of other people in battle.

Inugami wanted to give that to him, and plenty of it.

The general fell on his knees.

“Lord, I greet you. It is a time of triumph.”

“That it is. Raise.”

Inugami waved and everyone left the room except Achak, who finally sat on a stool. He was a little shaky on his feet, had been drinking well, and the intoxication of the fight had started to turn into an intoxication of alcohol.

“What is your plan, sir? What’s the next step?” he articulated with the great care of a man who knew he had to be very focused to be able to speak clearly.

“Tayasal, general, just as we discussed it.”

Achak’s eyes shone. “The enemy will crawl in the dust before us. The head of the King of Tayasal will roll over the floor. Nothing and nobody stands in our way. Another grand victory, another defeat for the enemy. This is Mutal’s time, and you, great Inugami, are the prophet of that time.”

The Japanese smiled. He quite liked Achak’s attitude.

“You have the full list of casualties?”

“Lord, we haven’t lost a hundred men. The army is sure of victory and ready to march.”

“Tayasal is small.”

“And Yaxchilan is big and close. It may be that the new king comes up with ideas.”

There had to be a new king, that was clear. Such a large city did not remain without a ruler for long. They still didn’t know anything about him or his plans. That would change in the foreseeable future.

“He lacks warriors,” Inugami said.

“He may also lack stupidity. I advise keeping the Saclemacal garrison as small as possible.”

Inugami sat down too, his expression thoughtful.

“I’m afraid of an uprising, General. We are doing this differently now. We conquer and secure, we manage and keep. Do you understand that, Achak?”

“You explained it to me. I think 500 men will be enough. None of your warrior slaves coming from this city. They might be inclined to rethink their loyalty. We’ll take them with us on the campaign.”