On the second day, the midday sun shone brightly on the mountains and hills, and the rustling autumn wind blew the leaves in the distance. The sky is high and the clouds are clear, which is perfect for climbing up to meet friends.
On the rare open mountain hills, the Mexica and Otomi scouts explored and looked in all directions, with a clear view of the surrounding miles. The trees are distant and sparse, and there is no ambush at all. After confirming the safety of the location, surrounded by hundreds of elite warriors, the commanders of the two armies climbed onto the hills to formally meet.
During this meeting, Shulot deliberately brought along the Longbow Guards and Jaguar Warriors. The former is to seize the initiative. If the negotiations do not go well, they will focus on the other party's commander. The latter is to ensure that you can break out of the encirclement if you encounter an ambush.
Wearing two layers of leather armor, Shulot climbed onto the high hill and his pupils suddenly contracted. At first glance, he saw among the Otomi guards opposite, there were hundreds of elite warriors armed with Tlaxcala single bows and bronze arrows.
The commanders of both sides looked at each other for a moment, smiling awkwardly and politely. They understood each other and were cautious in their hearts. Living in troubled times of endless battles, warriors always put utilitarianism first in order to achieve their goals, and will not be bound by moral dogma.
Hulot took the shield handed over by Bertard, and, guarded by a group of shield-wielding warriors, looked at Commander Otomi on the opposite side. Although they had fought each other before, this was the first time Shulot saw each other.
Giowa was nearly forty years old, with a strong build and a strange appearance, like a shaking coyote, with a pair of narrow and sharp eyes. Wearing thick leather armor, he moved with steady steps and his lower body swayed slightly, maintaining a posture ready to exert force at any time. He was obviously an outstanding warrior.
Seeing Hulot wearing a helmet, Giowa narrowed his eyes and laughed loudly:
"The majestic Mexica army commander actually covered his face like a squirrel hiding in a hole, afraid to let the warriors see his face!"
Shulot ignored it. This kind of ridicule was probably a deliberate test to grasp the opponent's psychology. He looked at the team on the opposite side carefully, and unexpectedly found an acquaintance next to Giowa, the roaring prairie dog priest of the city-state of Guamare. The old priest looked much older, but still menacing. Wearing a black and white priest's robe, he looked at the Mexica opposite with fierce eyes.
Shulot looked around for a moment. There was only one priest in the team opposite, and he obviously had a special status. He guessed in his mind and shouted loudly: "In the name of the Sun God Huitzilopochtli! I, the commander of the Mexica Legion, Xiulote, represent the new king of the Mexica Alliance, Avitsotel, with Negotiate with the people of the God of Night during the day to discuss peace matters!”
Giowa also answered seriously: "In the name of the original god Omet Oter! I, the commander of the Otomi Legion, Giowa, represent the city-state of Otopan. This is the Chaos Priest Omet. On behalf of the city-states of Guamare, Pamus and Xilotepec, negotiate with the people of the God of War to stop the war!”
The two sides recognized part of the other's main god's responsibilities, but disagreed with the other's main god's supreme position. This distance in belief represents that the Mexica and the Otomi people are actually in the same cultural circle, but have different mainstream cultures. The two legion commanders then saluted each other, and the hostile atmosphere eased.
The old priest Alter was also unusually quiet. He didn't yell intentionally and clearly had peaceful sincerity.
Xuelot signaled Giowa to put forward the conditions first, and Commander Coyote did not hesitate.
"People of the God of War! What you are facing is the united and huge alliance of Otomi city-states! You cannot capture the undefeated city of Ottopan! Your new king killed the old king, and the kingdom is in civil war! You guys We can't stay in this land for long! Leave! Let's negotiate peace between the two parties, withdraw from all our lands, and compensate 30,000 people for ten months of food! In the name of the original god, we will also return a thousand captured Mexica warriors! "
Xiuluo nodded and shook his head. He responded tit for tat.
"People of the God of Day and Night! The city of Otopan only has three or four months of food and cannot afford to fight for a long time! The Tarascans are eyeing the south and will send troops to Otopan at any time! Chichimec dog descendants Invading the north, Guamare and Parmus are unable to support you! You have run out of troops and food! The two sides negotiate for peace, using this mountain forest as the boundary, and release each other's prisoners! In the name of the Sun God, I promise peace for a generation!
"Damn Aztecs! Hand over the food and withdraw from our land! Otherwise, the 20,000 Otomi here will be ready to fight you to the death!" Giowa roared loudly.
"Then let's fight! Cowardly Otomi native dog! Even if the ten thousand Mexica warriors here die in battle, more warriors will come next year and completely reduce the Otomi land to ashes!" Shulot shouted threats without hesitation.
The atmosphere suddenly became tense. The archery warriors drew their bows and arrows, aiming at the opponent's commander. The melee warriors raised their sticks and shields, slightly bowed their bodies and gathered momentum, bringing with them unlimited killing intent.
The first brief exchange quickly stopped, and both parties were temporarily silent. It seems that both parties have already found out the situation on the other side, so there is no room for deception or deception. The old priest and Giowa briefly exchanged a few words and then spoke on behalf of the Otomi people.
"What do you want?" Old Priest Alter's face was cold and his tone was cold.
"Hilotepec City." Xilote said directly.
"The city of Hilotepec is part of the alliance, and we cannot give up on it." Old Priest Ort shook his head resolutely.
"But it's impossible for you to guard it across the mountains and forests." Shulot looked into the old priest's eyes.
The old priest was silent, and he glared at Shulot angrily. After a long time, his expression gradually disappeared, and finally he lowered his eyes and responded calmly.
“Ten months of food for thirty thousand people.”
Hearing this, Giowa's face became excited. He strode over and wanted to say something to the old priest, but the old priest shook his head firmly.
"Giowa, please don't interfere in the subsequent negotiations. I will be responsible for today's negotiations! I will bear all the consequences alone!"
Giowa's narrow eyes widened and he silently stared at the old priest's aged face for a while. Finally, he nodded, bowed silently and left.
"This is impossible! Even if you don't agree, we can still surround the city of Xilotepec across the mountains and forests." Xilote shook his head affirmatively.
"Without this food, we will starve to death this year, 30,000 militiamen, and even half of the samurai." The old priest said the facts calmly.
"I will let all 30,000 people die in the war with the Mexicans. How many casualties are you prepared to bear, and how many people are you going to keep under the city of Xilotepec?"
"You can't waste all 30,000 people in a war with us. Otherwise, once the Tarascans move north, you will not be able to stop them. The city of Otopan cannot be saved without defensive forces!" Xiulote said the same. He retorted calmly.
"Without food, we wouldn't be able to stop the Tarascans from going north. When the Tarascans capture the city of Otopan, they will become a threat to you Mexicans!" The old priest was already determined. The sad smile.
Shulot was silent, everyone was telling the truth, and the truth could not be changed by words.
"Five months of food for 30,000 people, half of which will be exchanged for luxury goods of equal value. This winter won't be too cold. Now we can replant a season of beans and sweet potatoes. Five months will be enough to support you until the harvest." After a long time, the young man finally Promised. "If the Tarascans come north to attack you, the Mexica fleet will raid their food routes."
A bleak, bitter smile broke out on the old priest's face. "Yes! When will it be delivered? We are willing to spend double the price to buy more food! Over the past year or so, we have a total of two thousand Mexica warrior prisoners on hand, and we can hand them over to you now.
Shulot nodded seriously. As expected, the old priest kept half of the prisoners as bargaining chips. "
"I'll give it to you in installments. We won't be able to produce much food at once. The total amount of food will only be so much! As for the prisoners, I have nine hundred Otomi warriors in hand, and we can exchange them now."
"That's impossible!" The old priest shook his head and flatly refused. "Food is exchanged for prisoners. We only want food! We don't want the warriors you captured! We can't afford them either."
Shulot sighed. He pondered for a moment and looked at the old priest again: "In other words, how many warriors from Xilotepec City are there in your army? I will exchange prisoners for them."
The old priest pondered for a moment and nodded: "This is also a way. There are a thousand warriors in Xilotepec City in the coalition army, all of them are handed over to you, but in addition to the nine hundred prisoners, I also want five thousand warriors. Food for the moon!”
"Okay! Let's exchange today!" Shulot agreed directly.
For the Mexican Alliance, these thousands of warriors from the city of Shilotepec are very important, as they are the leading party preparing to surrender. They were thrown out to join the coalition, and most of them must have been from minor nobles or commoners. Then they were betrayed by the Otomi Alliance, so they naturally tended to be more inclined to the Mexica, thus facilitating the alliance's assimilation.
The two agreed on the details of the food handover. From the completion of the negotiations, the Otomi will evacuate all guerrillas, leaving only 500 warriors and 3,000 militiamen in the mountains and forests, responsible for carrying the food sent by the Mexica. The two sides ceased fighting with mountains and forests as the boundary.
Otopan would not attack the Mexica who besieged Hilotepec. The grain is handed over in May and once a month. A month's worth of food for 30,000 people was exchanged for 300 Mexica captives and half the value of gems, gold and silver, feathers or fine clothes. The last handover is expected to occur after the fall of Xilotepec. The Otomi would hand over the last eight hundred captive warriors.
The old priest then repeatedly pestered the Mexica people to provide rations for two thousand additional Mexica prisoners.
Shulot didn't care. After getting the old priest's promise to treat the prisoners well, he nodded and agreed. He wanted to laugh, but he felt deeply desolate. Famine, lack of food, death. The loss of these Otomi lives was originally planned by the Mexica army. Now, the results of the plan are coming as expected. Two generations of Otomi people are being ruthlessly wiped out, but the young man does not feel any joy.
Negotiations began at noon and ended in the evening. The war that lasted for a year and a half finally stopped, and the city of Hilotepec was completely abandoned in exchange for enough food for the city of Otopan to hold on. At the end of the separation, Giowa and Xuelot looked at each other, but could not utter a ceremonial blessing.
Shulot then looked at the old prairie dog Alter, looking at the man's suddenly hunched back, with a different emotion in his heart. He recalled the conversation at Guamare.
"Alt, even if you burn all the green grass in the field, why not keep a piece of sacred cocoa?" the young man said something he once said.
Hearing these familiar words, Alter's eyes widened. He looked at the boy again for a moment, and finally recognized the coyote priest he had seen before.
"What exactly is green grass?" The young man looked at the old priest and his face that had lost its momentum.
"...Green grass is a commoner, a warrior, a noble, a priest, the city of Xilotepec...and me." After a moment of silence, Ort lowered his head slightly, averted the boy's gaze, and replied faintly.
"In that case, what exactly is cocoa?" The young man thought for a while and continued to look into the old priest's eyes.
"That is the continued hope of the Otomi people." Ort replied. This time, he looked calmly into the boy's eyes.
Looking at each other for a moment, the young man nodded solemnly. He bowed slightly, thanked the old priest for his answer, then turned and left.
Negotiations for an armistice are over. Soon, the setting sun sank into the earth, and the world became dark. And hope is nurtured in darkness.
