October is the end of the rainy season, and the sun finally shines generously on the earth, lighting up the way back.
October is also the season when the harvest is completed, and it is the joy of farmers to obtain food. At this time, Shulot was standing on the hill, looking to the south from a distance.
There is the edge of the Mexica Valley. The fields are already covered with withered yellow corn stalks. Farmers can be vaguely seen busy in the fields, picking up lost grains. The monsoon carries the unique fragrance of grains, which is the smell of a good harvest.
That's Mexica land.
In the Mexican plateau, the autumn harvest of corn often starts in mid-September and is completed at the end of September. This will be the most important ration for farmers in the year and determines their life and death.
And when he turned around and continued heading north, he saw only stretches of barren fields in front of him, a wilderness already full of withered grass, a village that had been reduced to ashes by the Otomi guerrillas, and faint bones between the villages.
These Otomi villages are destined to be destroyed in the war. If they do not accept the Otomi guerrillas, they will be regarded as enemies and destroyed. If they do, Mexica punishment will follow.
In this way, during the long battle, this land turned into a ghost land without human habitation.
"White bones are exposed in the wild, and there are no roosters crowing for thousands of miles. This is the land of the Otomi people." The young man sighed quietly.
And close to the army, hundreds of fresh, emaciated corpses were lying in random directions. The warriors in the vanguard were replacing worn out obsidian sharp blades.
Just now, the vanguard of the army was suddenly attacked by a group of Otomi guerrillas.
Two to three hundred naked Otomi militiamen, armed with stone spears and wooden sticks, roaring wildly and randomly, suddenly rushed out of the mountains and forests. They were driven by a dozen Otomi warriors and slammed into the vanguard.
The Jaguar warriors and direct samurai were immediately beaten mercilessly by battle sticks and turned into warm corpses on the ground without causing even a trace of damage.
They are like harmless moths dropped into a campfire, making a crackling sound and then turning to ashes.
The militiamen had just engaged in battle with the Mexica warriors. The warriors hiding at the back did not stop, turned around and fled into the forest. They had completed the task of driving the militiamen to their deaths.
The howls of wild dogs echoed in the mountains and forests. Their eyes were red and they had eaten the corpses long ago. At this time, they were attracted by the large-scale army and hung far behind. Based on their barren experience in dog life, these dangerous two-legged dogs
The beasts will fight each other and then bring them new food, just like the battle that just ended.
Shulot wore a helmet that hid his face, a coyote priest costume, and held a topaz staff. He stepped on the land in front of him. The soil had dried slightly in the sun and became hard. It was softer and sunken than in the rainy season.
Mud ground for feet is much more comfortable to walk on and is more suitable for warriors to fight.
"This kind of attack is meaningless! The trees are sparse, the ground is dry and hard, and the weather is sunny and rainless. The militiamen have no advantage of the terrain at all, and their numbers are not enough. They cannot cause any harm to the warriors of Mexica. The Otomi people
Totally crazy!”
The young man looked at the militiamen who were as thin as reed sticks. These farmers could not even be called soldiers. They were just victims of the disaster who were weak, hungry and crazy.
"This year must be very difficult for farmers. With the war's rapid consumption of food, coupled with a whole year of famine, at least three out of ten farmers will die before the New Year, and the rest will be on the verge of death."
Bertard sighed with emotion. The vicissitudes of life of the samurai chief was born into the civilian class, and he sympathized with the sufferings of the peasants.
"Even so, for the sake of the war, the nobles of Otomi will still take away the last rations from the farmers and let more people starve to death. They want to fill the empty warehouses due to the siege, as well as their own dining tables."
"So." Xiulote frowned a little, "If we leave the city of Herotepec, not only will they not help the local farmers, but they will try their best to plunder and fill their own granaries?"
"Of course! The city of Herotepec was also besieged by us for four months, and later we were forced to hand over thirty years of tribute. Because of the siege, their autumn harvest last year was not completed.
We did some plowing this spring, and just harvested some pumpkins and soybeans in the first two months, but it was just a drop in the bucket. The corn was not harvested, and the priests and nobles seized the opportunity to rebel and fight us again. Now the two armies are facing each other.
The fields are either barren or burned. There is at most four months of food left in the city of Xilotepec!
If we don’t collect the peasants’ rations, what will happen if our army besieges the city again? For their own survival, the nobles will let the peasants die without mercy!
Now is also the time when they least care about casualties. The Otomi people's crazy guerrillas are deliberately reducing the number of militiamen. Rather than letting the militiamen consume food or starve to death in vain, it is better to let them cause some harm to us, and avoid
The hungry people started a riot. This is what nobles do!"
There was calm and deep anger in Bertard's eyes.
After decades of fighting, he had long been accustomed to seeing the life and death of warriors, but he could not forgive the cruelty of the nobles and the hardships of the common people. He hoped that changes would happen. Thinking of hope, the warrior captain silently glanced at Shulot and stopped talking.
The young man frowned in thought. He remembered the calculation before the decisive battle. Avitt taught him what the commander's perspective was. In the commander's mind, life is just a calculated number.
According to his and Avit's original plan, the army would negotiate with the Otomi people, rescue Kasar, who was in charge of the rear, and three thousand direct warriors, and then exchange food with the Otomi people for prisoners. After the peace talks, the entire army would go south.
, evacuate the land of the Otomi people, quickly enter the capital, and formally inherit the throne in the capital.
Finally, control the capital's food supply and subdue Atotonilco's 30,000-strong army.
But now it seems that he still needs to think carefully about how to deal with the city of Xilotepec. This city-state has fallen into its weakest moment and has its final madness.
Traveling in a hurry, the two of them passed by the cold bodies of the militiamen. The warriors did not spend time burying their enemies, and they were not interested in the fragments that might be on the militiamen.
As soon as the large group of warriors passed by, the wild dogs swarmed behind them. They had been impatient for a long time. But this time, they did not need to dig out the corpses from the soil.
After thinking silently for a long time, the young man asked again.
"Since there is a shortage of food, why do the nobles of Hilotepec City rush to launch a rebellion? Are they really willing to sacrifice themselves for Otopan City?"
Bertard looked towards the mountains and forests to the west, which was the direction of Otopan City. He thought about the known information.
"The main reason is hatred. The priests hate the Mexica legion deeply, and so do the nobles and warriors."
The young man thought of the sacrificial plates that were dragged away, the priests who cut their faces and swore an oath, and the large piles of tributes that were collected, many of which were engraved with the family crests of the nobles. Finally, there were the sacrifices of three thousand men, and those who followed them.
Relatives crying from behind.
"In addition, the city of Otopan and the Tarascalans must have made certain promises to them, such as food supplies and military support. If the Mexica army withdraws, they can also withdraw from nearby farmers and savages.
The tribesmen plundered three or four months’ worth of food without leaving any chance of survival.”
The young man recalled the countless burning villages and fields under the city of Otopan, as well as the cruelty of tens of thousands of civilians dying that night. These were experiences he could not forget.
"Is there any extra food in Otopan City? They almost ran out of food." The young man obviously didn't believe it.
"How can the city-state's promises count? The city of Otopan was desperate at that time, so it would naturally try its best to deceive and make promises. Now, they must be trying their best to plunder the farmers in their own territory, consume their own militia, and guard against the Mexica people.
Or the attack of the Tarascans.
As for the people of Tlaxcala, let’s not talk about whether they are willing or not. Before Atotonilco State was opened, it would be impossible for them to transport food to the Otomi people.”
The young man nodded in agreement. Although the long siege war brought down the Mexica people, the huge gap in national power and the complete destruction of agricultural production also left the Otomi people at the end of their rope at this time. The city of Hirotepec had no hope at all.
Promised support.
"Since the city of Otopan and the city of Herotepec are not of the same mind, there is a lot to be done here. Let's deal with them separately!"
The civil war in Mexica has just ended, but the foreign war in Otomi will continue. The situation in the world changes, and everything will change accordingly. It just depends on how those who adapt to the situation do it.
After three days of hurried march, the mountain camp finally appeared in front of Shulott again. Under the magnificent sunset, the young man's command flag was raised high, carrying the king's body and the staff, the morale of the four thousand troops was high.
But before our eyes, the scale of the mountain camps expanded again. The densely packed camps expanded, and the flags of different city-states were flying between the camps.
Tens of thousands of city-state warriors are stationed on the outskirts. They are sallow and thin, tired from traveling, but still have the vigor of warriors. At this time, they are making fires to cook with hope. Smoke rises from the camp, reflecting the evening.
The glow of the sky heralds a sunny tomorrow.
"It seems that the 20,000 warriors from the surrounding city-states have surrendered. Food is the lifeblood of the army. Whoever controls the food controls the power of war!" The young man couldn't help but smile.
Seeing the returning army, the warriors along the way came forward one after another. They saluted respectfully to the coyote priest and the legion commander, and peeked at the king's body with awe, as well as the shining topaz staff in the young man's hand.
With a confident smile of a victor, Shulot nodded in response.
"Now, our strength has grown again! The warriors of Mexica will once again be united under the royal banner, making all enemies tremble."
