Aztec Eternals

Spring ploughing has just begun, and Mexico in April is the season for sowing.

Seirot sat on the edge of the field, watching the busy village peasants. Most of them were naked, with a loincloth tied around the lower body, bare feet with thick calluses, hunched backs, and waving simple earth-digging sticks, dripping sweat on the newly burned farmland.

Fortunately, Mexico is not short of salt. The long coastline, scattered city-state rule, extensive commerce, and salt mines scattered everywhere, so that the people at the bottom do not suffer from the pain of lack of salt and edema. Shulot remembered that there were salt mines with huge reserves near the three cities of the capital, which were also one of the trade goods of the City in the Lake.

Strictly speaking, before the arrival of the colonists, life in the Mexican ministries was actually pretty good. Sherlot thought.

The city-state manages its subordinate villages loosely, without the high taxes imposed on Eurasian peasants in this era. Food is plentiful and salt is cheap. Even in barren mountain fields, an Otomi people only need to plant three to five acres to survive, and there will be no terrible spring drought. If you plant high-yielding sweet potatoes in the mountains, you can raise another child.

"Except for the extremely densely populated Mexican Valley, the fields in other areas are far from reaching the upper limit of reclamation. As long as there are enough iron farm tools, we can usher in new great development just like the development of Jiangnan in the two Jins." The boy's thoughts drifted far away. China, which is 100,000 miles away, was also pioneered in history.

Afterwards, Seirot grabbed a handful of mud from the field and carefully identified the soil type: it was between the hydrophobic sandy soil and the hydrophilic loam soil, which was the sandy loam soil commonly found in the Mexican highlands. This soil has good water and fertilizer properties, and it does not require much modification, so it is a good agricultural soil.

"As long as a canal is built from the Leman River in the south, the dry fields in the entire Ottopan region can be transformed into irrigated fields." Shilot looked at the south with some yearning, "The yield of the fields can usher in a breakthrough again, from ' Shimoda' elevated to 'Nakata' or even 'Ueda'."

"And if you want to really get high yields, you still have to apply fertilizer. River mud, manure, and the most recent natural fertilizer, struvite." Sherlot recalled.

America is a famous source of struvite, and the nearest place for struvite to gather is the island off the coast of Baja California in the west, which is a holy place for birds to inhabit. A little further, is the most famous Chilean struvite. In memory, Bolivia, Peru and Chile fought a famous "struvite war".

Sherlot looked at the field and pondered. The warriors spread out nearby, sitting and resting while being alert. In the villages in the control area, everyone is more relaxed, their weapons are tied behind their backs with twine, and only shields are in their hands.

A young samurai took out a water bag, and before he drank it, he walked up to Shirault and handed the water bag to the boy with a sincere expression: "Priest, my wife made the wine herself, this is the last bag. , please drink."

Shiloh smiled and reached out to pick it up. When the personal guard Bertard beside him saw it, he arrived first and last in a leisurely manner. He took the water bag, unscrewed it, smelled it, and took a sip.

"Nice tequila." Bertard smiled at the young warrior, "I'm thirsty, let me drink some first." "Do you want salt?" The young warrior also smiled.

"No, I like this bitter and happy taste. It reminds me of my previous life." Bertard sighed slightly. After he finished speaking, he took two more sips before handing it to Shiloh.

The young warrior's name is Cusola, and it has been nine months since his funeral last July.

Sherlot knew that he came from a city-state commoner family, with a wife and a son who had just been born. In the city of Guamare a few months ago, Shilot watched him bury his son's umbilical cord there, and promised a soldier's expectation.

Taking the water bag, Shirault didn't rush to drink it, first took out a small clay pot, poured a little salt on the back of his hand, licked it quickly, and then took a sip of tequila. In the mouth, first salty, then astringent, and then slightly aggressive.

"Without the distillation technique, light wine would be good to drink." Sherault thought.

Then he looked at the water bag in his hand. It felt soft to the touch, light to weigh, unique to the touch, and had a good airtightness. It was an excellent water bag for marching.

"Did you do this yourself?" Sherlot looked at Cusola curiously.

"Yeah." Cusola nodded and explained enthusiastically, "This is a water bag made from a deer's stomach bag, cut out the appropriate part of the stomach bag, then seal one end with thread and tie it tightly, and the other end is made of A live thread that can be tightened and released. Bake the pine branches with fire, boil the pine oil, and apply it on the stomach bag. Finally, lightly bake the stomach bag with fire, let the pine oil penetrate into the shape, and become a water bag that can be used for a long time. already."

"Your hands are very clever." Sherlot exclaimed.

Cusola seemed very happy: "My father is a craftsman, and he taught me a lot. I also often make obsidian trinkets for my wife. When I go back, my son is probably two years old, so I just made a wood for him. Toy."

"Why did you think of being a samurai?" Sherlot smiled and looked at Cusola's calloused hand. "You can be a very good craftsman."

Kussola scratched his head and smiled again: "Becoming a city-state warrior, I have a piece of land outside the city, and my wife can be less busy with weaving work. If I capture more prisoners in this war, I can Get promotions and bounties. When the son grows up, he will be able to provide better food for his samurai training. Then he will have a chance to become a strong jaguar warrior and even get a chinampa."

Cusola looked in the direction of Nanfang's house with a different look in his eyes. From him, Shulot saw the responsibility of a man, the pursuit of a parent, and the yearning for the future. Joining the army was the only way the Mexicas could change their class.

"Yes." Shuluo nodded, sincerely wishing. "Your son will be a jaguar warrior."

Hearing the blessing of Shirot, the young Cusola smiled happily. Bertard next to him also smiled.

"Captain Bertard, what about you, why did you join the army?" Cusola was happy for a while and asked the same question when he saw the vicissitudes of life warrior next to him. Shilot was also a little curious.

"Me." Bertard looked leisurely at the approaching sunset, his eyes became distant and deep, as if he had traveled through time and space and saw the past.

"I spent five years at the civilian military school, then came of age, joined the army in the capital, and stayed here for another twenty years. First with the great Montezuma I, then King Assaya Cartel, and now King Tisok."

Bertard smiled, "The army is the whole of my life. Here are my teenagers, my youth, my middle age, and my old age. Maybe it's best to die in battle like a samurai in the end. ending."

"But you are already a fourth-level senior samurai, with enough land and slaves, you can retire and return to the city-state, and you can also be a military school teacher and live a happy life with your family?" Cusola looked forward to the fourth-level warrior's life. life, while looking at Bertard curiously.

Bertard just smiled, the hard military life left a mark of vicissitudes on his face, and more marks were in his heart: "My wife has gone to the red country and died with my children. Dystocia. I didn't remarry."

"My only brother was killed in the battle last year." Bertard looked at the clouds in the distance, "When he goes back this time, his wife should remarry, and I will adopt his daughter and inherit everything from me."

Shulot lowered his head slightly, feeling a little heavy. Dystocia is very common in this day and age. The lack of contraception, and the high infant mortality rate, will keep women trapped in a cycle of constant pregnancy and birth. If you are not careful, it is the end of dystocia.

Therefore, in Mexica society, women who can continue to give birth to healthy boys have a very high status, like outstanding warriors on the battlefield. And once a woman dies in childbirth, she is regarded as a soldier who died on the battlefield and deserves respect.

When Sherlot was very young, his mother died in childbirth while giving birth to her second child. In his memory, he vaguely had the appearance of his mother in this life, a very gentle woman who came from a commoner family in the city-state.

Later, his father married a new noble wife and many concubines, giving him many younger brothers and sisters. These new family members are not close to him and do not interfere with each other. If it weren't for him being different from ordinary people since he was a child, and being valued and cared for by his father and grandfather, it is estimated that a lot of **** episodes would have been staged.

The three of them fell silent like this, watching the sunset and the red glow in the distance together, falling into distant nostalgia.

After a long time, Cusola asked Bertard, "Captain, why do you follow the priest?"

Bertard watched the sunset and answered after a long time, "Because, I want to change something. How about you?"

Cusola smiled sincerely: "In the beginning, I thought that the priest was so powerful at such a young age. He wanted to follow him and seek a career and future."

Shulot also smiled and looked at the young warrior in front of him: "Then what do you think now?"

Cusola thought for a while before saying, "I think you, priest, are not the same as other nobles. You are very good to us commoner warriors, and you also teach us words and knowledge. You are also very good to commoners. You A good man."

Shilot was a little moved. He had heard the nobility's praise for him, the recognition of his knowledge. He just smiles. And this is another voice, the recognition of him as a human being moved him very much.

"You two guys, I'm so embarrassed. Let's go, it's time for us to eat." Sherlot got up with a smile, pulled up the two warriors, and everyone around gathered to start preparing dinner.

Dinner is something special. The crowd first sat around the bonfire in the center of the village, grilling tortillas, sandwiched with peppers and refried beans. The village elders then presented two special foods: a thornless cactus and red dried cactus. He also brought out a clay pot of tequila, an important treasure for the village. I expressed my heartfelt gratitude and respect for the Shroud Spring Ploughing Sacrifice.

This kind of cactus is the "Mibonta" loved by various tribes in Mexico, and it is an important vegetable. Sherlot took the roasted cactus first and took a bite from the pointed end.

Mibonta is just right, and the skin is very thin, so it should be specially cultivated. The stalk meat is very tender, and it tastes like a mixture of cucumber, celery and zucchini. When you eat the center again, the juice will be more, and it also has a touch of sweetness, as if fruits and vegetables are combined.

Then Shilot picked up the fist-sized dried cactus fruit, which looked very similar to the dried dragon fruit, with many small seeds in it. Take a bite and it's sweet. Shiloh's eyes lit up, and he took two more bites, feeling a little sandy. The elder told Xiulote that this is the dried fruit from last year, and the fresh cactus fruit will be more delicious in October~www.readwn.com~.

The crowd drank some more wine, and the warriors started making noise in front of the bonfire. Soon, full of food and drink, some warriors danced war dances by the fire, while others watched and booed. The other warriors sent by the Totec shouted for Otomi girls to come and dance. The village elder stood on the spot with a look of fear and embarrassment.

Shirot waved his hand to calm the warriors down.

"Rest early, build up your strength, and return early tomorrow morning." Sherlot ordered, and majesty appeared on the boy's face. The warriors then gave up and promised to leave.

The village elder hurriedly fell to the ground to thank him. After the bonfire dinner was over, the boy went back to sleep. The elder gave up his house: the best wooden house in the village, and it was clean and tidy.

Shulot was about to thank the elder when he saw that the elder brought a young girl, who he said was his granddaughter, to accompany the priest. The young man looked at the girl who was about the same age as him. She bowed her head shyly and stood timidly beside the elder. The boy's dignified face just now turned red with embarrassment.

Bertard smiled lightly, and went up to tell the elder a few words about the traditions of the Mexica warriors. The elder then quickly pleaded guilty and dragged the little girl away.

Farmers, craftsmen, samurai, and nobles. Juveniles, youth, middle age, and old age. Lord and followers. boy and girl. Various moments of life were recalled in Shilott's mind.

He thought about the life of the Otomi, the life of the Mexica, and even the life of the entire Mexican tribe. The pictures were flying, and finally the disappointed but relieved smiling face of the little girl was frozen before she left, and the young man smiled too. Then in the chaotic thoughts, on the soft grass bed, I fell into a deep sleep.

On the floor next to him, Bertard, who was quietly guarding, was looking into the distance of the night.