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Catch up on A Warm Place!

A WARM PLACE – PRELUDE

A WARM PLACE
A WARM PLACE 2
A WARM PLACE 3
Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
OTHER TITLES
ABOUT ME
 ONE
I was alone.
Alone was nothing new to me. I had been alone a lot of times in
my life. But this time, it felt different.
I was alone and I was thinking of chemotherapy.
Carefully stalking a deer through a snowbound, heavily-wooded
hinterland somewhere in northern Kansas, or maybe even southern
Nebraska now, I wasn’t sure, I tried to make as little noise as
possible, and keep my mind from drifting too far.
But that got difficult, I was learning, when you spent too long in
hard isolation.
Icy trees surrounded me in all directions and I was careful to
keep the deer in my sights, my rifle at the ready. I wasn’t too keen
on my odds of bagging this deer, but I was kind of desperate right
now because my food was really low.
As in, I had like a meal left low.
But chemotherapy kept creeping into my brains the same way I
was creeping up on this deer, trying to ignore it all: the cold, the
hunger, the encroaching darkness and storm. I knew a storm was on
the way and I’d have to get in soon.
I was thinking about how, in some cases of extra bad cancer,
they sometimes tried something desperate: double chemo. But they
weren’t supposed to because it carried all sorts of crazy risks, but it
had a better chance of wiping out the cancer.
That was what I was doing right now, though to be completely
honest, I wasn’t sure exactly what the risks of what I was doing
entailed.
I mean, some were obvious.
That I could starve to death, or freeze to death, or get mauled
by an animal, or killed by another human looking to rob me, or
worse.
But that was just a fact of life nowadays. Those risks were risks
I had faced, endured, and ultimately triumphed over time and time
again over the past year and a half, ever since I’d decided to set out
into this new, frozen, post-apocalyptic wasteland on my own. I was
used to being by myself, I was used to wandering for long stretches
of time alone.
This, however, was different.
Abruptly, the opportunity to make the shot appeared and I knew
it was now or never. I froze, took aim, and fired.
And missed.
Just barely, I saw some of the deer’s fur fly off in a puff, but I
had missed. The deer took off in an instant, vanishing from sight
into the trees, galloping away to safety. I let out a long, heavy sigh
of disappointment as I lowered the rifle, my breath appearing on the
air in a haze.
Well, shit.
There went food for the next few days.
I looked around, knowing that I was either going to have to find
manmade shelter of some kind, or a cave, or make some sort of
really miserable lean-to, because I’d lost my tent to a scrap with a
pair of wolves three days ago. It had been shredded all to hell.
My bow had also gone during that battle, snapped into pieces
after my big ass fell on it. Not that it mattered quite as much, as I
was out of arrows at that point anyway. I’d been doing some hard
living over the past month, and my supply level reflected that.
Finally, I saw what appeared to be a lone structure up ahead,
barely visible through the trees and the dim gray fading light.
I set off, and as I began walking, it started to snow.
I glanced up, a little startled. That always freaked me out a little
bit, the way it could just begin to snow in perfect silence. Sometimes
it was obvious, mostly through the winds, and I knew that some
kind of storm was coming, but sometimes I’d wait three hours for it
to actually manifest, and then just abruptly, big fat snowflakes were
falling out of the sky in all directions, not a sound to be heard. It
was oddly creepy.
In some vague way, it reminded me of spiders, and how they
were perfectly silent.
 You only noticed them when you saw them or, God forbid, felt
them.
Spiders largely dying out as a result of this apocalypse, or at
least dying out on the surface and in a lot of buildings, was one of
the things I put under ‘benefits of Armageddon’. Yeah, I know, I
know, they’re crucial to the ecosystem and they aren’t inherently evil
or anything, but I fucking hated them and the world was fucked
anyway, right?
As I headed through the falling snow, picking up the pace, my
body already most of the way to numb thanks to all the time I’d
spent outdoors today, I kept thinking.
It had been three months since I’d helped bring Pine Lake back
from the brink of death, since I’d gotten shot and damn near gotten
myself killed.
I had healed up and settled nicely into my new home. Honestly,
the motel room at Pine Lake was the closest I’d ever come to a
home since I began wandering, and it had felt nice. The first month
was good.
Lindsay moved in with us, and they got a second bed, really
more of a mattress they put in the corner, where she and Delilah
tended to sleep. They had definitely become a couple, though it
hadn’t stopped either of them from having sex with me regularly.
Delilah more than Lindsay, I think she was intimidated by me,
though she at least didn’t seem threatened by me. So that was nice.
Elizabeth really liked me, and we’d spent a lot of time together.
The same was true of Megan.
Lisa wasn’t sure how to feel about us. She’d been awkward in
the days following my recovery, but finally, after some hot sex and
then some more hot sex, she’d eventually settled into a casual
relationship where she tended to jump me once or maybe twice a
week if she was feeling really up to it. The same thing had happened
with Melanie.
God, I loved fucking that woman.
And that was my life for the next month, and it was really
fucking good.
 I helped out. I built things. I hunted. I protected people. I
harvested and gathered and salvaged from the countryside and the
dead part of the city.
I had great sex with the women in my life.
All the while, living in fear of the wanderlust bug.
It left me alone for a solid month, but near the end of that
month, I felt the first tickles of that urge. That intense desire. That
lust to wander, to just get out and be free and explore uncharted
lands. Meet new people, see new places, do new things.
Test myself against the untamed wild.
For two weeks, I ignored it, but it got worse. During the third
week, I began trying things, going out camping or staying up at the
hunting lodge with the hunters. It helped, but only a little. The
fourth and final week was the worst.
I felt anxious and irritable and sometimes like I couldn’t
breathe.
I felt somehow caught.
It didn’t occur to me until Elizabeth gave birth that I was waiting
for some event to transpire, something to somehow give me the go
ahead to make a decision.
That event was it.
I ended up talking with the women about the problem, listening
to suggestions, bouncing ideas off each other, and ultimately, this
was what I had come up with.
I would leave, I would head north, into deep isolation, and then
I would come back after, at most, two months.
That was about one month ago.
I didn’t want to just do what I normally did, although that was
what I had done during the first week. I was exuberant and blissful
as I hit the highway and headed north. I ran into a caravan of
people, traders and travelers who seemed on the level, heading
south. I spent the night with them and had amazing sex with the
forty-two-year old platinum blonde who used to be a schoolteacher
after being a model and now ran this group.
She could suck dick like few others I’d run into.
 I pointed them towards Pine Lake and told them they’d find kind
people and good trading there, then I’d gone on my merry way.
Shortly after leaving the caravan I began to feel guilty for
feeling so good. I was practically high I felt so damned good.
I ran into a few more traders, and finally I stopped at a small
simple encampment that seemed kind of like a way-station for
travelers along the highway. It was built into the remains of a
partially collapsed warehouse of some kind, and half a dozen people
maintained it. Now it served as an inn. I’d spent the night and after
flirting, took one of them to bed. She had been pretty hardcore, had
a scar down one side of her face, and more on her body when I’d
gotten her clothes off. She had muscles, and short brown hair, and
she fucked rough.
It was a good night, and she was the last chick I’d hooked up
with.
The next morning, I’d gathered my things, ate breakfast, made
a few trades, and then I’d struck off in an almost totally random
direction, into the nearest woods.
I was out here to burn out this need to wander, and after
thinking on it for awhile, I had decided that the best way to do it
was to go into total isolation.
And it had worked.
I had yet to see a single human being, let alone speak with one,
since leaving that way-station.
Three solid weeks.
It was the longest I’d gone without human contact.
“Here we are,” I muttered as I reached the structure. It was
some old, very old cabin, something that looked like it had been built
a century ago. It had a chimney, it was dark, and it looked intact.
Those were the only three things I actually cared about at the
moment.
“Let’s make sure we’re safe,” I murmured.
I had learned that for whatever reason, talking out loud helped
offset the...negative aspects of the isolation.
I walked around the exterior of the building, checking for
threats and to see if it was as intact as it looked. The windows, I
saw, were boarded over, but this looked to have been done a long
time ago. Perhaps even before Armageddon. I didn’t see any people
around, nor any wolves or bears or cougars. I thought I was far
enough north that they might be a problem. Or mountain lions. Or
were those the same thing?
Shit, I didn’t know.
I walked up to the front door and knocked on it firmly a few
times.
“Is anyone in there?” I asked. Waited. Nothing. I knocked again,
harder. “Is anyone in there?” I asked louder.
Still nothing. The place felt like a mausoleum.
I tried the handle. It turned, and the door opened when I
pushed. It was dark inside, the thin twilight not nearly enough to
help me see. With a sigh, I reached onto my belt and detached the
miniature lantern there. It was solar-powered and really useful. I’d
found it on a dead man a week ago, probably just someone like me,
way out in the middle of nowhere. He’d been mauled to death by
wolves, I assumed, and left to freeze in a lot of blood.
The kill had looked old, months at least.
It occurred to me that this would be an extremely lonely and
miserable place to die.
The light came on and seemed to fill the interior of the single-
room structure. I quickly played it across the inside, finding myself
looking at hardly anything. There was a mattress on the floor, no
bedding or pillows. A single chair. A fireplace. A toilet and sink off in
one corner. I saw the remains of some cabinets that had no doubt
been chopped up for firewood, and the scattered remnants of other
random stuff on the wooden floor.
It was empty of life, at least.
I got inside, closed and locked the door to the best of my ability,
then set my shit down on the floor beside the mattress with a loud
groan. I was tired. It had been a long damn day, even though it
really hadn’t, it just felt like it.
It was December now. Actually, by my count, and I could be
wrong, we were nearing the beginning of 2039.
As if that meant anything anymore.
 The only thing it meant to me was that at this point I was
another year older, (my birthday was in November, oh what a
birthday Megan and Delilah and the others had made it), and that
the days were shorter than ever.
I think we were past the equinox, which meant that technically
the days were beginning to get longer now, but that wouldn’t matter
practically to me for at least another few months. It got dark at five
fucking PM and that sucked shit.
Plus, it was winter.
Although it was winter all the time now, it still did actually get
generally colder and more miserable during this time of year.
Blizzards and snowstorms and absolutely bleak frozen days seemed
more common during winter. Like today. It had to be below zero.
I saw that there was still a bit of burning fuel left by the
fireplace, so I arranged it all as best I could and got a fire going. I
sat there for a few minutes, not thinking of much at all. In fact, I
considered that a luxury. As that warm washed over me and took me
momentarily to heaven, it was like my brain and all my worries and
anxieties and bad feelings were put on hold. It was really nice, and I
now looked forward to it immensely.
But soon enough, the bad thoughts began leaking back in, so I
got back to work.
First thing was first: I went back outside while there was still
daylight left, though not much of it, and quickly began gathering up
enough firewood to last me the night. It took me fifteen minutes and
by the time I headed back inside, the last of the light was totally
gone, and darkness swallowed the world with a gloomy absolution.
Stacking the wood a safe distance from the fireplace, I then set
my thermos beside the fire so that it could heat my last meal that I
had on me.
Tomorrow was going to be an…
Interesting day. If not a desperate one.
In the past, I’d gone for about two days at a stretch without any
food, just water, and it fucking sucked. I knew I could go a lot
longer, the problem was, hunger fucked with you. It fucked with
your ability to focus and concentrate, it made you weak as it sapped
your strength, made decision-making difficult. So it tipped the odds
out of my favor, the longer I went without food. Once the thermos
was in place, I began the process of methodically searching the
cabin over.
I wondered who it had belonged to and why it was out here.
Maybe some old miner or factory worker had it built, or built it
himself, way back in the day so he could just fuck off and be by
himself when he wanted to. Maybe there was a nice pond or river
nearby, good hunting, (though that wasn’t my experience right now,
that deer was the first I’d seen in days). Maybe he’d retired out
here. I’d heard enough of those ‘disappear into the mountains when
I get old’ stories and fantasies. I wondered how long it had been
since this place had seen a human.
There wasn’t anything worthwhile in the cabin. Nothing tucked
away or hidden or shoved up under something.
Nothing in the roof or ceiling, as far as I could tell.
The place didn’t even have a closet.
With a heavy sigh, I made my bed, wanting to get the physical
labor out of the way as quickly as possible. I was exhausted, but I
knew I’d stay up for a few hours more, then wake with dawn’s first
light. Hopefully earlier, so I could get a jump on the day’s chores. I
put my pack down for a pillow and got out my thermal blanket.
With that done, I took off my boots and sat down in front of the
fire after dragging the chair over. And there I just sat for awhile.
It felt good to sit, and to know I didn’t have to get up if I didn’t
want to for at least an hour or so. Unless there was some kind of
emergency.
But I felt fear creeping over me.
This was the worst part of the day. The absolute worst. This
was the part of the day where night came on and I was winding
down and the loneliness set in.
I wasn’t normally a lonely person. I mean, yeah, sometimes I
missed people. Sometimes I missed my family. Sometimes I missed
some of the women I’d slept with who made an impression. I missed
Mary. I hoped she was okay, wherever she was now.
 But after the first week in absolute isolation, the loneliness had
really started to settle in.
It had caught me off-guard, and after a few days it was so bad
that it made me want to go home. I’d actually almost seriously
considered heading back to Pine Lake. I knew enough to figure out
how to get back, between the basic cardinal directions and a map I
had of the larger area and my knowledge of a few highways, I knew
I could do it.
But I’d held out.
I’d been a little skeptical at first, wondering if maybe this
intense loneliness was a thing that would fade, if it was some
anomaly. But it wasn’t. After another few days, I realized that it
came on at night, usually around bedtime. I’d lie in bed, whatever
bed was that night, and miss Megan and Delilah and Elizabeth
terribly.
Sometimes I’d missed them so horribly it hurt and I damn near
wanted to cry.
Crying wasn’t exactly easy for me.
But as bitter and miserable and wretchedly lonely those feelings
were, in a way, I actually relished them intensely.
Because it meant something.
It meant this was working.
 TWO
Dinner was okay.
All that remained of my food was what was left of the rabbit
and vegetable stew I’d made about four days ago now.
I ate it slowly, but it still seemed gone too quickly, and I was still
starving when I finished up. I washed out the thermos and left it to
dry, and then I sat on the floor and closed my eyes and tried to clear
my mind.
Things were a little more serious now that I was actually tapped
out for food.
This place obviously hadn’t done well for those super-seeds, or
I’d just been unlucky. There was some wildlife around, but not a
whole lot. If I was willing to hang out in one location for a little
while, I could probably cobble together some rabbit or squirrel
snares, but I wasn’t and even if I was, this place wasn’t a good
place for it.
No, I couldn’t afford to indulge in my wallowing any longer. I
had to get sharp. Honestly, it concerned me that I’d let it get this
bad. It was a sign that perhaps I was letting this go on for too long.
On the other hand, it could also just be a sign of bad luck. I still had
about a month to go out here, maximum. I know I’d been walking
for almost a month now but this wasn’t like before, when we were
heading towards Pine Lake.
Then, we’d been making fairly consistent, straightforward, and
intentional progress. I hadn’t been progressing towards anything. I’d
been wandering aimlessly, slowly, indulging in whatever caught my
fancy. If I found a cool house in the middle of nowhere, I might
spend two days there just fucking about.
If pressed, with some luck, I could probably be back in a week.
So I had another three weeks out here to figure my shit out
before I started heading back home. Although to be honest, that
two month window was the desired minimum. We worked it out that
if I found a particularly desirable situation, I could extend it another
month, but after three months, I had better come home. But for
right now, I really needed to get my shit together and actually wake
up tomorrow focused. I needed to get more food. Tomorrow. I’d
been kind of letting myself go recently, mainly in terms of discipline,
but also physically. I hadn’t been washing as much and I hadn’t
shaved all month. I was beginning to get one of those big beards I
hated so much. I think that was part of what was making me lose
my focus, oddly enough.
For whatever reason, I just felt better after a shave, or even a
buzz.
And, as it so happened, I did have an electric razor. It was
battery powered, but I knew it still had a charge left in it.
After sitting there for another few minutes, I finally got up and
then made myself pull my boots and coat back on, grab my pot, go
back outside, pack it with snow, and set it to boil. I’d decided to
forgo washing tonight but all at once I decided fuck that.
It was time to get serious again.
I stripped naked and spent ten minutes buzzing my beard off
and then, after considering it for just a moment, buzzing all my hair
off as well. What I was left with was a few centimeters a dark
stubble across my jaw and cheeks and head. I always thought I
looked better this way, but I think it was just some part of me
reacting to the fact that I almost certainly looked more intimidating
this way. Some part of me liked that.
I also ended up trimming down my armpits and my pubes. I
figured if I was gonna want women to do it, I should too if it was
something they liked.
And most of the women I’d come across told me that they at
least liked the pubes trimmed.
By the time I was done, the bottle of water I’d pulled out and
set by the fire was warm. I used it to wash myself head to toe, using
up most of the sliver of bar soap I had left. After that I dried off and
then washed my clothes as best I could with the water leftover and
set them to dry by the fire. Those acts alone made me feel better
than I had felt in days, maybe even the past week or two. So that
was a good start.
 I waited for the snow to melt and boil and purify, then set it to
cool. Once it had, I refilled my bottles and ended up filling the
thermos as well, to keep any water from going to waste. By then, I
was starting to feel truly tired. But I wasn’t done, not yet. I pulled
out my gun cleaning kit and set about disassembling, cleaning, and
reassembling my rifle and my pistol. I’d brought both of them with
me for the journey, and even out of it and depressed, (I could admit
it when I was depressed nowadays), I knew enough to keep them in
decent shape.
Once that was done, I made sure they were loaded and ready
for action.
I made one final sweep of the perimeter, ensuring I was as safe
as I was going to get, and then set the pistol near my backpack.
Finally, with wind now shrieking high and loud outside, cold air
leaking into the cabin from a dozen different areas, I tended to the
fire, making sure it would burn for as long as possible, and then I
climbed into bed beneath the thermal blanket.
I began getting situated, trying to get comfortable, but before I
knew it, I was out.

I awoke from a nightmare the following morning.

It was intense, vivid, and left me panting, sitting bolt upright on
the mattress.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the first hints of dawn peeking
through the boards over the windows. It was only after I’d looked
around and ensured that everything was the same that I realized I’d
grabbed the pistol.
Sighing softly, I set it back down and willed myself to relax. I
felt for those good feelings I’d been experiencing last night, and
surprisingly, found them.
Standing up, I rekindled the fire, which was just embers, tossing
the last of the wood in there, and then quickly washed up with the
bottle I’d left out, using only the rag this time around. After drying, I
pulled my clothes back on, then grabbed my pistol and unlocked the
front door. Opening it up, I cautiously peered out, ready for
anything.
But there was nothing out there, or at least that’s how it
appeared at first glance.
I took my time, checking the outside, the immediate area, and
arrived back at the front door fairly sure there were no wolves, no
bears, no human predators lurking somewhere nearby. My stomach
growled but I ignored it.
No breakfast. Not today.
I set some snow to boil and did some exercise to help wake
myself up, and because I really should keep in the habit. I’d been
better about it over the past few months, but pretty bad about it
over the past few weeks. I ran through a number of sit-ups and
push-ups, basic stuff, and then once I had replaced the water, I
gathered up my stuff.
Today, the goal was food.
Somehow, someway, food.
Most likely shoot and kill a rabbit or a deer, but I’d settle for
something that came from those super-seeds.
Once all my stuff was packed up, and I’d double-checked to
make sure I hadn’t left anything behind, I killed what was left of the
fire and stepped outside.
The sun was up over the horizon now, though it was still early
morning, and the air was crisp and chill, but not terribly so.
It felt like a good day.
I set off.

I found myself thinking of the women in my life as I headed

northwest, stalking game through the woods.
My relationship with Delilah had hardly changed at all. She still
liked me, she still liked fucking me, and she found my company
pleasant. I was glad that hooking up with Lindsay hadn’t changed
that, but I also had the idea that they were still navigating that
particular relationship. Delilah seemed pretty sure, but I think
Lindsay was cautious.
Hooking up with your best friend had to be a bit nerve-
wracking, I imagined.
My relationship with Elizabeth had changed somewhat. I think
she was preparing herself for the notion that I was not going to be
her new husband. I felt bad about that, but I always tried to be
honest with her, and she took it well, I think. I told her that so long
as we were around each other, she could count on me, I would
comfort her, protect her, take care of her as much as I could, but at
the end of the day, I wasn’t ready to be a father, and I wasn’t sure I
wanted to ever do that. She said she understood, and I think she
did, and Delilah and Lindsay had only leaned into their role as
caretakers, so I felt like I’d left her and her child in good hands.
Megan was…
Complicated.
We’d fought more, during the last month. She seemed at times
irritable and aggressive, and sometimes her jealousy would
resurface, but not for long. Maybe it was shallow, but all it would
take was for Delilah to take her to bed for the night to get her to
calm back down. But I think she saw Delilah the same way I saw
Delilah: a very good, very attractive casual fuck friend. It was
different with us.
In pretty much every way that mattered, Megan and I had
begun dating.
I was honestly cool with that. I liked her. A lot. I liked her
intensity, her cavalier attitude, her skill, her bravery, her
effectiveness and willingness to work, and work hard. And I liked
how she fucked.
That girl could fuck.
Obviously I didn’t like the aggression, the standoffish attitude,
the jealousy, the mood swings, but I mean, everyone has their shit
days.
I know I did.
I was willing to put up with her BS if she was willing to put up
with my BS, and so far, it was working.
 But I think the fact that I was going to leave for two months,
after the great few months we’d had together, freaked her out.
Because as far as I knew, she hadn’t gotten serious with anyone
since the apocalypse. Or at least not as effectively as she had with
me.
She was scared of losing me, and that turned into occasionally
ugly fights.
Our last meeting had been bittersweet, but mostly sweet. We’d
had sex, spent the night together, had sex in the morning, eaten
breakfast, took a walk around town, and she had cried when we’d
said goodbye. Only it wasn’t goodbye, not really. Just ‘see you later’,
more accurately. Because I was coming back.
I’d promised that.
I had promised that even if I didn’t think it was going to work
out, I would come back and tell them personally, and we’d all have a
proper goodbye.
Because I didn’t just cheap out like that. Ghosting people is
fucked, and no one should do it. More people should have the guts
to just say goodbye.
As I continued making my way through the woods, nice and
easy, hunting, looking for tracks or trails or any other signs that
wildlife had been through here recently, I found my mind turning,
inevitably, to sex.
I hadn’t been laid in three weeks.
That was basically a lifetime after getting used to having sex
with three women every day, and three others on a semi-regular
basis.
I never truly thought I would be so lucky, but that was the
situation I left behind.
And it still wasn’t enough to derail the fucking wanderlust bug!
But the thing was, I had stopped jacking off a week ago. I’m
not sure why, but I just did. I think at some point I decided I’d just
rather have a woman. Consequently, I was horny. So horny. It felt
like I walked around with a hard-on half of every day. I couldn’t even
remember being this aroused during puberty or the worst parts of
high school.
 And I felt like I was an unusually horny person.
I found myself fantasizing about women off and on for hours
out of every day. First about the women I’d left back at Pine Lake,
and then about the more memorable women I’d met along the way.
Mary, obviously. The woman I’d left her with. When I had left the
small settlement we’d made a home in after I’d found my car and
upheld my end of the deal, I was uncomfortable leaving her alone.
She was…
Vulnerable.
And I was fond of her.
Ultimately, I managed to find a hot, older, badass woman who
was bisexual, trustworthy, and super into the notion of trading
protection for sex with Mary. I got them set up nice before heading
out. But there were other women before her. A thirty-nine-year-old
dark-haired businesswoman who really had a thing for anal. A
college girl who had done gymnastics most of her life and was so
flexible. A goddamned racecar driver.
She’d been a really fun fuck.
Then I found myself thinking of the women I’d always wanted
but could never have. Girls I’d gone to school with, celebrities, hot
coworkers.
Teachers.
Fuck sake, I bet there wasn’t a dude alive who didn’t have a
crush on a teacher.
I had some hot teachers, and they left impressions. I always
had a thing for teachers. That caravan leader had really pushed
some buttons for me.
But mostly what I found myself thinking of was what the others
had told me before leaving. In their own way, they’d all told me that
I should indulge while I was out here. Delilah wanted me to just fuck
any hot, willing chick I found, because fucking felt good and was
fun, and she really liked me, and she wanted me to feel good and
have fun. Also, she was of the opinion that I was amazing at sex,
and so she wanted other women to feel good and have fun too.
Honestly, Delilah’s simple views on sex really appealed to me.
 Elizabeth had said something similar, just a bit more shy and
subdued.
Megan had told me to have fun, but made me promise to come
back to her. Because while Delilah was happy where she was, and
Elizabeth had no interest in wandering if she didn’t have to, Megan
told me, in no uncertain terms, that if I really couldn’t get past this
wanderlust problem, she wanted to come with me.
She wanted to wander with me.
That was as close to a marriage proposal as I’d ever gotten.
Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Elizabeth had straight up told me
she’d marry me if I’d let her, but that required sticking around.
But this was the closest I’d ever been to having someone telling
me they wanted to be in my life, and stay in my life, even through
hardships and difficulties.
And that…
I was a little concerned about that.
Because on some level, there was comfort in the notion that my
relationships were temporary. That I knew, and the women knew, I
was going to leave, and they always ended up parting ways from
me. Megan was different. I could just tell that.
I think it scared me because it was something different, but also
because I could see it actually working out between us. I mean,
nothing was set in stone, our relationship might blow up like a nuke,
but it might not.
I could actually see her as my wife.
Inasmuch as I believed in marriage anymore.
That was another part of what this hard isolation and long
journey was: ruminating on my new relationships.
Though another part, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was
something that was extremely self-indulgent, and selfish, and
perhaps a little absurd.
I wanted at least one other regular fuck friend living with me,
one really submissive one. Two would be ideal. Because Elizabeth
and Delilah were fairly submissive, especially Delilah, and I’d found
that I liked that.
A lot.
 And I wanted more, not just from them, but from someone else.
Yeah, I know, selfish.
But I’d rescued two women from capture, saved a pregnant
woman’s life, and then had a major helping in saving the survivors of
a burned-down town. More people definitely would’ve died without
me, maybe a lot more.
If I could find a few hot women totally down with being my
subservient sluts on a daily basis, then would that be so bad?
Delilah sure thought not. She’d encouraged me to bring back at
least one new ‘playmate’, as she had put it, if I could.
I intended to.
And these were the thoughts that were going through my head
when I noticed someone walking through the trees maybe fifty yards
out.
I stopped, raised the scope, and took a good look at the person.
She was walking with her right side to me, and I suddenly found
myself staring at the most attractive woman I had ever seen in my
entire life.
 THREE
For just a few seconds, I felt my brain just...overload.
With lust.
Seriously. In those scant few seconds I was aware that, even
though I was basically blinded by lust because I hadn’t seen another
human, let alone another woman, for three weeks, nor gotten laid
for that long, nor had jacked it for the past week, she still was the
most attractive woman I had ever seen in the flesh.
Or, at the very least, the most attractive woman I had ever seen
in the flesh since the snowfall began.
For a few seconds, I just stared at her.
She was tall, I got that much right away. Probably six foot, just
a few inches shorter than me. She was brunette. I saw her holding a
cap bunched in one gloved fist. She had just shy of shoulder-length
chestnut brown hair that was down and messy. She was extremely
pale, and when I caught a glimpse of her eyes, I could tell, even
from here, that they were very blue. And even though she had
layers on, I immediately got the impression that she was curvy as
fuck.
Some semblance of sanity returned to me and I started to feel
like a psycho pervert or something, spying on her in the woods,
when she suddenly looked back. A look of fear came over her
achingly beautiful face and then she was sprinting away.
I at first thought she’d seen me and panicked, which would be a
totally reasonable reaction. I was pointing a fucking gun at her,
though only to investigate her. I didn’t have binoculars. But when I
saw dark movement, low to the ground, coming after her, I realized
she had a wholly different reason to flee in terror.
Time to kill two birds with one stone.
With a fluidity and grace that I had almost thought had left me
in the past three weeks, I aimed and fired, popping out a shot and
perfectly catching the wolf in the skull as it dashed between two
trees. Now that was a good shot.
 A fucking great shot, with all the trees between us and it
moving so fast.
Though I gotta be honest, part of that was luck.
She stopped running as she heard my gunshot, looked back
over her shoulder at the now dead wolf, then began hunting for me.
I slung my rifle and started walking slowly and calmly towards her.
She saw me and I saw her tense up, but she didn’t run.
“Are you okay!?” I called.
She was staring at me intently, shading her eyes from the sun.
“Yeah!”
Oh God even her voice was sexy as fuck.
“Mind if I walk over!?”
She paused. “No, I don’t mind!”
I picked up the pace. I didn’t want to scare her off. If I could
talk this woman into having sex with me even once, I think I could
die happy. I knew that was a stupid thought, honestly probably a
downright disrespectful one to the other women in my life, but right
now I was almost delirious, practically high by how goddamned
turned on I was by this woman.
And again, I have to emphasize, it wasn’t just because of the
isolation.
Sure, that was magnifying it, but I would be reacting this way
even if I’d had my dick sucked and fucked half an hour ago.
I was positive that I’d just stumbled across a former actress or
supermodel or porn star. Something. She had Hollywood written all
over her, even now with no makeup and messy hair, she was an
absolute stunner.
God I hoped she didn’t have a boyfriend.
Or at the very least she was in an open relationship.
The closer I got, the more obvious her beauty was. I realized I
was right as I came nearer: she was tall. And curvy. Damn.
Her coat bulged at the chest.
I cleared my head, forcing myself to just calm the fuck down. I
didn’t want to scare her off. But shit, this was my first human
contact in three weeks. I hoped that I hadn’t forgotten how to have
a damned conversation.
 I stopped a respectable distance from her.
“That was a really good shot,” she said, and she was staring at
me intensely. Was she afraid? I didn’t think so. She didn’t look
scared. She looked…
Excited?
Aroused?
Please, please aroused.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“You a hunter?” she asked after a few seconds of silence passed
between us with us just staring at each other. Maybe she was as
starved for physical attention as I was right now, although I had a
very, very hard time believing that.
“Technically,” I replied. “I was, uh, just passing through when I
saw you and the wolf.”
“You going somewhere specific?” she asked. Was that hope in
her voice? Hope for what? That I wasn’t going any specific?
That I’d go home with her?
“Not really,” I replied.
“You looking for a place to stay?” she asked, and from the way
she shifted her stance, the way she cocked her hips and put her
chest out a little, the smile that grew on her face, I knew. I just
knew. I almost, and I’m not exaggerating, it was a near thing, fell to
my knees and screamed my thanks to a God I didn’t believe in.
Because she was trying to seduce me.
That wasn’t arrogance, I had seen it often enough, and I could
just tell.
Now, I thought as I got myself under control, for the next
difficult part: roll the dice and hope that this was not a trap.
Because it would be a perfect trap.
She lures me in by the dick, whoever she has waiting for her
back home kills me and robs my corpse.
It had happened before, and I’d been lucky to escape.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a place to stay,” I replied.
Now she put her hands on her hips. Oh those big hips. I tried
not to let it show how absolutely in lust with this woman I was, but I
doubted I was doing a good job. The only thing was, she seemed to
be pretty lusty towards me too.
Damn that felt good.
She could be faking it, hell, I thought she was an actress, but I
didn’t know. Maybe that was just hope.
I wanted to find out.
“Well, I live nearby with a friend of mine. My name’s Lara. Are
you alone?” she asked.
“I’m alone. My name’s Chris,” I replied, hoping, praying really
that her friend was another woman, but I’d settle for a guy she
wasn’t involved with.
She pursed her lips. “You can obviously shoot.” She began
walking towards me. “But how are you with skinning, cleaning, that
kinda stuff?”
“Great,” I replied.
“Hmm.” She smiled, coming to stand before me. Yeah, she was
damn near as tall as I was. “You seem confident.”
“I am,” I replied. “I’ve spent most of this apocalypse out here in
the wilderness at this point.”
“That’s impressive,” she said. She crossed her arms suddenly,
under her breasts, pressing them up. I got the feeling it was
something she did when she was trying to get what she wanted,
though the effect was somewhat lost with a heavy coat on.
I could imagine what it’d be like if she had on a low-cut t-shirt
or a tanktop.
“So I’ll level with you,” she said. “My friend and I are kind of in a
bind. Neither of us are very good at hunting. She’s better at it than I
am-”
Oh thank God. She.
“-but you’re clearly better at this stuff. We’re running low on
food. Maybe we could work out some kind of deal? You hang around
for a little while, hunt us up a nice stockpile until you bored,” here
she smirked, as if saying like that’s gonna happen, “and you can
move on.”
“What do I get in return?” I asked.
“Besides a roof over your head?” she replied.
 “Yeah.”
She looked into my eyes for a long, long moment, still smirking
that seductive smirk of hers. This woman clearly knew exactly how
attractive she was.
“Well, why don’t you come back to the house, meet Susan,
and...I’m absolutely positive that we’ll be able to work something
out,” she suggested.
“All right, show me the way,” I said. “But let me grab that wolf
first.”
“Don’t be too long,” she said, and turned around.
As she walked away, I got a pretty decent look at her big ass in
the snow pants she was wearing and oh my God…
I think I was in love.
Okay, that was bullshit.
I was in lust. Head over heels in lust and I was so fucking in lust
that I didn’t even feel bad about the other women in my life. I could
easily imagine all of them, even Megan, were they here, whispering
frantically to me: You need to fuck her as soon as possible!
I hurried off to grab the dead wolf.

“So, um, where you from?” I asked.

We’d been walking north, through the woods, in silence for a
few minutes now, and I decided it was time to at least try and make
some conversation.
I needed the practice.
“California,” she said. Knew it. “You?”
“Florida.”
“Oh wow. That must’ve been wild. How’d you end up
here?...wherever here is. I think we’re in Nebraska?”
“I think so, too. They evaced us out of Miami when it got really
bad. Stayed at a refugee camp for a bit, but I ended up in a small
town in northern Florida. Stayed there for like a year before deciding
I wanted to get out and just...travel.”
 “Holy shit for real?” she asked, looking at me with something
like awe. “In all this?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I mean, the world was ending. Had ended. Or
changed irrevocably at least. As far as I could tell, there was no
changing that. So I might as well. I’ve been wandering ever since.
Worked my way up here.”
“That’s so...crazy. And brave,” she murmured, looking down and
fiddling with her coat.
“Maybe closer to stupid,” I replied.
She laughed. “I don’t know. Me and Susan have been
wandering for awhile...she’s my best friend. We’ve been friends
forever. We ended up out here...after a lot of bullshit.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll get into sometime later.”
“All right.” Something occurred to me. “What were you doing
out here by yourself?”
She looked up suddenly and from the way she blushed and the
guilty look on her face, I could tell the question had caught her off-
guard.
“I was just...uh...foraging. Some plants still grow around here,”
she replied, not quite meeting my eyes.
Huh. So she was lying about something.
“Okay,” I said, letting it drop.
Up ahead, I could see a structure through the trees. A house
built into a clearing. As we came into the clearing, the door opened
up and a woman stepped out.
She was holding a pistol.
“Lara!” she snapped, and I could immediately tell who was in
charge of this relationship.
And, despite the pistol and the steely gaze this woman had, I
felt a lot of comfort settle over me, because all at once Lara’s story
seemed much more concrete. It was still possible she was acting, or
lying, or whatever, but seeing this woman, who had to be Susan,
made everything sort of snap into place. If this was a trap, they
would’ve just shot me at this point, while I was still on approach to
the house. Easiest way to do it.
Another random document with
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be brought from a vessel which had recently reached the coast. A
great event was the arrival of three vessels with two hundred
Spaniards, eighty horses, and a full complement of arms,
ammunition, and other effects, partly bought and partly enlisted by
the agents whom Cortés had despatched to the Islands during the
previous autumn. Among the new-comers were Julian de Alderete of
Tordesillas, appointed royal treasurer for New Spain, and the
Franciscan Pedro Melgarejo de Urrea of Seville, bearing a supply of
papal indulgences for the men who had been engaged in the
crusade. That the soldiers were conscious of frequent transgressions
may be judged from the suggestive and not wholly reverential
observation of Bernal Diaz, that “after patching their defects the friar
returned to Spain within a few months, a rich man.”[1075]
Cortés was cheered by offers of submission and alliance, owing
partly to the good offices of Tezcucans and other allies. Some came
from places quite distant, such as Nautla and Tuzapan, on the coast
north of Villa Rica, laden as usual with presents.[1076] Another
pleasing evidence of still more devoted loyalty came not long after
from the south, from the country of the valiant Chinantecs, of the
long pikes. During the great uprising, when Spaniards in small or
straggling parties had everywhere been slaughtered, this people
faithfully protected the two soldiers who happened to be with them,
and were in return aided by their prowess and advice to achieve
victories over adjoining tribes. One of these men, Captain Hernando
de Barrientos, sent two natives in April with a letter to his
countrymen imparting the assurance that Chinantla and its six sub-
towns were loyal.[1077]
The recent successes and the arrival of the two hundred men
induced Cortés once more to propose peace to Quauhtemotzin. To
this end, during passion week, he bade some of the captured nobles
proceed to Mexico with a letter as a symbol of their commission, and
impress upon their master the superiority in arms and skill of the
Spanish forces, their constant and large reinforcements, and their
unvarying success in the field. They must point out the generous and
humane treatment of the provinces which had submitted, and assure
the Aztec leaders that equal forgiveness would be accorded them.
Refusal to return to their allegiance would lead to the destruction of
themselves and their city. Only two of the captives ventured to
accept the commission, for according to Aztec articles of war any
noble who returned to his country after having been captured by an
enemy was doomed to decapitation unless he had performed some
extraordinary deed.[1078]
No answer came from Mexico, and it was afterward learned that
the messengers had suffered death. The Aztec ruler had not even
given a thought to peace. He was watching his opponents, prepared
to take advantage of any neglect or relaxation in their effort. No
sooner had Sandoval been induced by peaceful appearances to
retire from Chalco than Aztec forces again prepared to invade the
province. The Chalcans had due warning, and close upon the heels
of Sandoval came two messengers lamenting louder than ever, and
exhibiting a painting wherein were named the many towns whose
forces were coming upon them, fully fifty thousand strong. These
constant menaces and movements were exasperating, and Cortés
resolved personally to inflict a lesson which might be lasting. At the
same time he proposed to complete his reconnoissance of the lake
region and encourage his troops with spoils from hostile localities
whereon the Aztecs yet relied for support.[1079]
Cortés selected thirty horse, three hundred infantry, a number of
Tlascaltecs, and over twenty thousand Tezcucans, under Prince
Ixtlilxochitl, to which twice that number of other allies were added on
the way. A large proportion of archers and aquebusiers were taken,
together with Alvarado, Olid, Alderete, Melgarejo, and others, while
Sandoval was left in charge of Tezcuco, with instructions to watch
and promote the completion of the brigantines against which several
incendiary attempts had been made.
The expedition left Friday, the 5th of April, and passed through
Chalco, Tlalmanalco, and Chimalhuacan,[1080] and crossing in a
south-westerly direction into the Totolapan province, they entered the
hills which form the southern border of the Mexican valley. By this
time the forces had assumed proportions hardly inferior to those of
the Iztocan campaign, when over one hundred thousand moved
against the foe. Highly picturesque was the spectacle of this army, its
naked hordes of warriors relieved by plumage and glittering iztli
points which rose above the broad line of gaudy shields; its white
adventurers in mail of cotton and metal, surmounted by bright
helmets, and armed knights on proudly stepping steeds: picturesque
in particular as it wound in almost endless line along the rounded
slopes of the cliffs, or climbed in clearly defined file across the hill-
tops, only to descend again into gulches gloomy as their own sinister
purpose.
Alarmed by the invasion, the inhabitants had abandoned their
valley homes, and had sought refuge on the summits, whence they
hurled missiles at the passing lines. Little attention was paid these
irregular bands, composed as they were to a great extent of women
and children. On entering the Tlayacapan Valley, however, and
observing on the craggy sides of an almost perpendicular isolated
rock, perched there like an eagle’s nest, a place of refuge peopled
with more pretentious opposers, in a fit of insensate folly Cortés
ordered the place to be assailed. He seemed to think the honor of
the army demanded it, and was ready to stake the lives of valuable
men on its destruction.
Orders were given to attack from three several sides, the
steepest being assigned to Alférez Corral, a brave and spirited
leader. Verdugo and Villafuerte were given another side, and Ircio
and Monjaraz the third. Each party consisted of about threescore
men, and included archers and arquebusiers. At a given signal all
rushed forward to the ascent. Soon they were on hands and knees,
crawling over projections and pulling themselves up by means of
shrubs. All the while stones and darts rattled on helmet and
breastplate; and huge rocks came rolling down upon them. In vain
they sought shelter in crevices and under crags; they must face the
storm. Bernal Diaz followed Corral, and after receiving many a hard
knock they gained what was called two turns of the rock. There they
paused and looked around, wondering at their success thus far.
Supporting himself against a small tree, his face bathed in blood, his
banner rent, Corral said, “Señor Diaz, it is useless to advance
farther; not a man will survive.” Then they shouted a warning to
Pedro Barba, at the head of his archers, not to climb farther. “The
order is to advance!” was the reply. The next moment Barba was
wounded by a stone, and a soldier at his side was killed. Cortés then
sounded the recall, but not until eight brave men had laid down their
lives, victims of their commander’s puerility, and of the rest most of
them returned wounded.[1081]
The recall was likewise prompted by the approach of a
considerable force in the valley. This the cavalry charged and quickly
routed, following in close pursuit, though the broken ground soon
enabled the fugitives to gain shelter. During this ride some of the
horsemen came, a league beyond, to another hill fortress, strong in
its natural features, and held by a large force. Near by were some
springs. The need of water was pressing, which afforded a plausible
excuse for abandoning the scaling of Tlayacapan, and the whole
force was moved to the springs. Early next morning Cortés
examined the approaches to the new stronghold. It extended over
three hills, the central one exceedingly steep and held by the largest
force; the others easier of ascent, though higher, and occupied by
smaller numbers. In reconnoitring, Cortés advanced toward the
centre. This movement led the occupants of the other hills to infer an
attack on the central height, and they began to abandon their
positions with a view to reënforce the threatened point. Observing
this, Cortés ordered Barba to occupy the most commanding
elevation with some fifty arquebusiers and archers, while he himself
continued to scale the centre as a feint, for there was little hope of
capturing a point so steep and strongly held. The stones and darts
rained here as previously, and man after man was struck down,
some bleeding freely from the wounds sustained.[1082]
Meanwhile Barba’s sharp-shooters had made so effective a use
of their weapons that within half an hour the volleys from the fortress
ceased, and the women began to wave their robes in token of truce,
shouting their submission. Cortés graciously met the advances, and
extended full pardon. He also prevailed on the chiefs to induce the
Tlayacapans to submit. On the extensive surface of the rock were
collected all the inhabitants of the neighborhood, with their effects,
which Cortés ordered not to be touched.[1083]
The army remained encamped for two days to refresh
themselves after their arduous march, and after sending the
wounded to Tezcuco, Cortés proceeded to Huastepec. The report of
the clemency extended to preceding settlements had a reassuring
effect on this town, whose cacique came forth to welcome them, and
tender his palace for their entertainment. This was situated in a
garden, celebrated throughout New Spain for its beauty and extent,
and the immense variety of its plants, collected partly for scientific
purposes. A river with tributary canals flowed through its grounds,
which extended over a circuit of nearly two leagues, murmuring its
melody in unison with winged songsters hidden in arbors or playing
between bush and hedge, mingling their bright color with the green
expanse. Adjacent were steep rocks, on whose smooth surface were
sculptured the portraits of noted warriors, statesmen, and orators,
with hieroglyphic inscriptions of their fame. It was a paradise formed
equally for student and idler, and to the weary soldiers no spot could
perhaps have proven so grateful. Cortés certainly grows ecstatic in
describing it, declaring it “the largest, most beautiful, and freshest
garden ever seen.”[1084] Tempting as was the retreat, Cortés tore
himself from it the following day, and proceeded in a south-westerly
direction to Yauhtepec. Although many warriors were gathered there,
they fled on the approach of the Spaniards, and were chased, with
some slaughter, for about two leagues, into the town of Xiuhtepec.
[1085] The women and effects there found were appropriated as
spoils, and rendered agreeable the two days’ stay. The ruler failing to
appear, the place was fired, and terrified by this warning the lord of
Yauhtepec hastened to proffer submission.
After a day’s hard march the army came in sight of
Quauhnahuac,[1086] capital of the Tlahuicas. They were one of the
Nahuatlaca tribes, which according to tradition had entered the
Anáhuac country to supplant the Toltecs. Coming rather late, they
found their brethren already in possession of the lake region, and so
they crossed the range to seek a home on the headwaters of the
Zacatula, where soon a number of settlements rose round
Quauhnahuac. They afterward fell under the sway of the
Chichimecs, and finally the Aztecs took advantage of internal discord
to establish sovereignty,[1087] maintaining it by a garrison in the
capital. This was a natural stronghold, situated on a tongue of land
between two steep ravines over forty feet in depth, and through
which ran a little stream during the rainy season. It was further
protected by strong walls, particularly on the side where a strongly
guarded gate opened to a fine stretch of country. Two other
entrances faced the ravines, sometimes spanned by bridges, which
were now removed.
Situated at the gateway to the tropical southern valleys, between
which and the colder lake region interposed a range of mountains,
the spot stood as a new Eden in its manifold beauties. A sight even
of the pine-fringed mountains that rolled off toward the north, with
their green slopes shaded by oak and birch, and bathed in soft
though bracing airs, was refreshing to the indolent inhabitants of the
burning plain beyond. On the other hand the sturdy toilers of the
northern plateaux might in this sunny south seek relaxation in the
varied charms of a softer air balmy with the incense of a more
lustrous vegetation.[1088]
It was an opulent community that of Quauhnahuac, surrounded
as it was by endless resources and advantages, and the people
were in no mood tamely to yield their wealth to invaders. And in this
determination they were sustained by their lord, Yohuatzin,[1089] who
was not only a vassal but a relative of Quauhtemotzin. Confident in
the impregnable position of his city, in which supplies were ample, he
replied with volleys to the demands of the Spanish forces as they
appeared on the other side of the ravines. It seemed almost
impossible to effect a crossing and climb the steep wall of the ravine
to the city; nevertheless Cortés selected a position and began to
open fire so as to occupy the attention of the garrison and cover the
scaling parties.
While they were thus busied a brave Tlascaltec reconnoitred and
came to a point half a league beyond, where the ravine was steepest
and narrowed to an abyss. On the two sides grew two large trees,
which inclined toward each other, with branches intertwined, forming
a sort of natural bridge, though by no means secure. He called the
attention of his party to this and led the way across, followed by
several Spaniards. The natives, who were more accustomed to this
kind of tactics, found comparatively little difficulty in swinging
themselves across; but to the soldiers it was far from easy, and three
of them, overcome by dizziness or weight of armor, slipped and fell.
[1090]
 The attention of the inhabitants being attracted elsewhere, a
number of the invaders had gained a secure foothold within the city
before they were observed. Even now a few resolute men might
have driven them back, but such were wanting, and the sudden
appearance of the dreaded white men, as if indeed they had
dropped into the stronghold from some cloud made radiant by the
sun whose reputed children they were, struck terror to the hearts of
the poor natives. All impotent and nerveless, they permitted the
daring strangers to lower the drawbridge, and turned to spread the
panic. Meanwhile the reports of a formidable army advancing from
the rear so wrought on the fears of the garrison that, when the
handful who had crossed on the bushy bridge fell on them, they
offered no resistance. This also allowed the scaling forces to pour in,
so that within a short time the siege was turned into a rout, wherein
the cavalry played a prominent part. The zeal of the allies was
already indicated by smoky columns in different parts of the city, and
the foot-soldiers hastened to share in the rich plunder and intercept
the women.
Most of the fugitives had gathered on an adjacent height, and
though no attempt was made that day to molest them, yet they
began to fear that men who could so readily capture one of the
strongest fortresses in the country, would find no difficulty in reaching
them anywhere; therefore, after listening to the advice of
messengers sent by Cortés, Yohuatzin concluded to surrender, and
presented himself on the following day with a large retinue and rich
presents. The Mexicans were as usual blamed for the opposition
offered. He would have submitted before, but thought it best to
expiate the fault of resistance by allowing the Spaniards to pursue,
so that after spending their fury they might be more ready to forgive.
[1091]

There was no time at present to extend the reconnoissance

farther in this direction, and after a brief rest Cortés turned northward
to the lakes. The route over the mountains proved far more difficult
than before, and after issuing from the pine forest the army entered a
desert country terminating in a three-league pass through the Ajuzco
Mountains. Here thirst became so intense that several natives
succumbed.[1092] This suffering was relieved in a hamlet not far from
the pass.
On the following day they passed through a fine and cultivated
country toward Xochilmilco, that is to say, Field of Flowers, aptly
named, for round almost every house, particularly on the outskirts,
was a flower-garden enclosed by canals. Many of them were of the
chinampa class, or floating gardens,[1093] the outgrowth of early
Aztec weakness, now forming a picturesque border to the lake
towns. Altogether the aspect was most pleasing, while the buildings
of the central parts were artistic and striking. Besides the strength
added by canals and moats, pile buildings were frequent, and
intrenchments had been thrown up and drawbridges raised to defend
the approach against any enemy of the Aztecs, for its loyalty to the
queen city was fully as great as that of Iztapalapan. It was the most
important place on the thickly settled fresh-water lake. Bishop
Garcés relates that angels were heard to sing praises in the Mexican
tongue when it was converted.[1094] The usual summons was issued
by the Spaniards, and no heed being given, they attacked in three
divisions by different approaches. The enemy fell back behind the
raised bridges and intrenchments, whence they kept up a steady
volley. The archers and arquebusiers replied briskly, and covered the
van as it plunged into not very deep water and waded across to
capture the fortifications. This effected, the foe was driven from one
retreat to another. Seeing how affairs went, they sought to parley, but
the pursuers paid no heed, regarding it as a trick to gain time for the
removal of their families and property. Within half an hour the greater
part of the city was won, and soldiers and allies were sacking as they
advanced. The foe rallied now and then to cover their retreat, and in
one instance managed to despatch two soldiers who had allowed
avarice to overcome prudence.
Not long after, a body of some ten thousand warriors, reënforced
by fugitives from the city, was seen advancing from the rear as if to
cut off retreat. They were already close at hand when first observed,
and without losing a moment Cortés charged them at the head of a
body of cavalry.[1095]
At first they boldly faced the animals, and fought so well as to
severely wound four, besides several riders; but the mounted body
kept breaking through their ranks and then turned to fall on the rear.
This movement proved decisive, and the enemy dispersed in flight,
the horsemen scattering in pursuit. Already weakened by the severe
march across the mountains, the horse of Cortés became quite
exhausted, and while its rider was striking right and left into a large
body of fugitives, it fell. No other horseman being near, the enemy
gathered courage and rushed upon the general, who had risen to his
feet and stood with sword in hand to defend himself. It was a critical
moment, and had not a brave Tlascaltec warrior come to his rescue
thus opportunely, the career of the Estremaduran would have ended
there; for he had already received a severe blow on the head and
was about to be dragged away when thus rescued. The general’s
body-guard then came up and cut in pieces his late stupid assailants
—stupid because they might so easily have killed him, and did not.
[1096]
The pursuit was not long maintained, tired as the horses were,
and remounting his steed Cortés led the way back to camp in the
square.
Late as it was he superintended the filling of all the channels
which broke the causeways, and the erection of defences, and
ordered the soldiers to put in order their arms and prepare arrows.
The forces were distributed at three points, and extra guards were
posted for the night, together with bodies of troops at probable
landing-points. These precautions were prompted chiefly by the
evident effort of the last body of the enemy to shut up the army
within the city, a movement which boded other attempts, as Cortés
rightly supposed.
When Quauhtemotzin heard that the Spaniards had marched
against Xochimilco he called a council to consider the course to
adopt, and the result was the despatch of reënforcements. Finding
that the city had so easily fallen, he became furious. The gods were
indignant at the outrages of the strangers. Arms must be employed
more manfully, and, these failing, the loyal ones must let their nails
grow, as the last means of protection. The first step should be the
recovery of Xochimilco. That very night two thousand canoes were
sent with some twelve thousand warriors, and a similar force by land,
all approaching stealthily, without music.[1097]
The rumor of a probable night attack kept the Spanish camp on
the alert, and advised of this, the enemy made no attack. At dawn
their canoes were already swarming round the city, the inmates
rending the air with loud and repeated shouts, and brandishing their
weapons, those of the chiefs being captured Spanish swords. “With
your own arms you shall be killed, and we will eat you!” they cried.
“We fear you not, for Montezuma is dead!” At the same time the land
forces were seen approaching, evidently to assist the fleet in
besieging the Spaniards within the city, which would give the
Mexicans greater advantage, as they had well learned during the
siege of Mexico. Cortés understood the manœuvre, and leaving the
greater part of the infantry and allies to guard the city, he sallied with
most of the horse, in three parties, a few of the infantry and several
hundred Tlascaltecs, breaking through the enemy’s ranks and
gaining the foot of a hill in their rear, the Tepechpan.
While the enemy were rallying, Cortés led the horse round to
their denser flank, and gave orders to the infantry to allure the
Mexicans by climbing the steepest part of the hill and pretending to
escape. This succeeded, and the next moment they were attacked in
several directions with such effect as to cause a panic and drive
them in flight toward a quarter where one division of horse had taken
a stand. Five hundred Mexicans covered the field and five leaders
were among the captured, while the Spanish loss was only one
soldier and a few allies, including three Tlascaltec chiefs, although a
number were wounded. During the pursuit the foremost division of
horse came upon a further Mexican reënforcement, estimated at ten
thousand, which rallied the fugitives and caused the pursuers to halt.
Soon, however, the remaining force came up, the charge was
continued, and the Mexicans routed.[1098]
Too tired for long pursuit, the Spaniards returned by ten o’clock
in the morning to Xochimilco, where their garrison had repulsed the
lake force. The fight had been fierce, and the soldiers had exhausted
all their ammunition, capturing in return two Spanish swords. These
victories brought little satisfaction, however, for the captives gave
information that the forces so far sent were but detachments of the
armies destined for Xochimilco, which must be recovered, and the
Spaniards driven forth, if it cost the lives of all the men in Mexico.
The Spaniards might defeat force after force, but even victory must
so weaken them that the Mexicans would finally triumph. This
seemed to be confirmed by the movements of the fleet, which,
though repulsed, was still hovering thereabout.
Cortés now gave orders to burn the city, as a warning to the
wilful inhabitants and preparatory to its evacuation. The soldiers,
who had been interrupted in their plundering the day before, obeyed
with alacrity. Xochimilco was a wealthy city, and not a Spaniard or
ally but obtained an abundance of robes, feathers, and other effects,
and even some gold, which helped to cheer those whom ordinary
merchandise and slaves did not satisfy. The enemy had been
watchful, however, and in their canoes they flitted round the city to
cut off stragglers. At one point quite a charge was made, wherein
several Spaniards were wounded and four carried off alive. This
event did more to cast a gloom over the army than many defeats, for
all knew the fate of prisoners.[1099]
After a stay of three days, all fraught with hard fighting, the army
filed out from Xochimilco, presenting the appearance of a dilapidated
caravan rather than of a reconnoitring and fighting expedition, so
much so that Cortés thought it necessary to remonstrate, but in vain.
The enemy hovered about like vultures, to harass them in what they
regarded as a retreat. The march was made in regular fighting order,
with cavalry distributed in three sections, in van, rear, and on flank.
In order to complete the reconnoissance, a north-westerly route was
taken to Coyuhuacan, the centre of a series of inner towns which lay
clustered within a radius of a league and a half, along the shores or
upon islands in the lake, all picturesque in their pyramidal temples
and their white walls, which gleamed amidst blooming orchards and
shady groves. Coyuhuacan itself was a beautiful town, and Cortés
felt so captivated with it that he afterward made it for some time his
favorite residence.[1100] It had been evacuated, but toward and
beyond Mexico the lake teemed with canoes, while in every direction
spread one continuous extent of farms and hamlets, connected by
causeways and roads with busy traffic. To Alderete and friar
Melgarejo this was a novel scene, and they could not refrain from
expressing their admiration at the enterprise and prowess of Cortés
and his followers in undertaking so vast a conquest. God’s aid alone
could have enabled them to succeed as they had done.[1101]
The army remained here over the following day, chiefly to
examine the place as intended head-quarters of a besieging force. It
was found satisfactory; and while arrows were prepared and the
wounded tended, the general advanced along the causeway leading
to Mexico and expended his remaining ammunition in the useless
capture of the temple fortress of Xoloc,[1102] during which a number
of soldiers were wounded, though the enemy suffered considerably.
After offering to heaven the fiery sacrifice of pagan temple, the army
proceeded through Tlacopan without halting, for they had no
ammunition, and this place had been examined on the previous
expedition. This unexpected haste encouraged the Mexicans to
come forth in great numbers and attack the baggage train and rear.
Owing to the level nature of the ground the cavalry found no difficulty
in repelling them, yet they caused more trouble, and succeeded
even in carrying off two of the favorite equerries[1103] of Cortés. He
was deeply grieved at the loss, and partly with a view to avenge
them, partly to inflict a lesson which should save the army from such
annoyance, he formed an ambuscade beside the road with twenty
horse. Seeing the other ten horses engaged as formerly in covering
the rear, the Mexicans continued their pursuit. At a favorable
moment the hidden horsemen appeared, and soon over a hundred
of the flower of the Mexicans lay dead upon the ground,[1104] their
rich panoplies, dresses, and arms offering a pleasing addition to the
already heavy plunder. Freed from further molestation, the army
proceeded through Azcapuzalco and Tenayocan to Quauhtitlan, all
deserted. Here the army clustered round camp fires of green wood,
wet from a recent shower and supperless. Next morning they
followed the route already pursued during the flight from Mexico,
round Zumpango Lake through Citlaltepec, and thence through
Acolman to Tezcuco.[1105]
A mass of booty and slaves being now at hand, a general
distribution was ordered, the second in Tezcuco. Again, says Bernal
Diaz, Cortés disregarded his promises and secured not only for
himself the objectionable fifth, but allowed his favorites to carry off
the prettiest women before they were brought forward at auction.
Many who remembered the former tricks hid their women and said
they had escaped, or they declared them free servants from allied
tribes; while a few managed to obtain a private branding, paying the
fifth required. A large proportion of the soldiers were so heavily in
debt for stores and fifths that their booty left them no surplus.[1106]
While the reconnoitring expeditions had on the whole been
fraught with pecuniary benefit and glory, they had nevertheless
served to open the eyes of many to the difficulty of the great
purpose, the capture of Mexico. This was particularly the case with
the Velazquez party, whose adhesion before the Tepeaca campaign
had been compulsory, and after it mercenary in its motives. Every
obstacle to them appeared terrible, magnified through constant fear
of the dreaded stone of sacrifice, on which so many comrades had
already been laid. And this they were encountering for what? the
advancement of an envied usurper and a pecuniary reward far
beneath their expectations. The failure at Iztapalapan, the repeated
inroads of the Mexicans, unabashed by constant repulses, and the
hardships of the campaigns, particularly the last, all tended to
support their arguments against Cortés’ plans as chimerical,
involving long delays, constant toil, and waste of life, and with poor
recompense save for Cortés and his favorites.
Presently the affair assumed the color of conspiracy, headed by
Antonio de Villafañe, a common soldier from Zamora, who is claimed
by Herrera to have had the active or passive sympathy of some
three hundred malcontents, nearly one third of the army. The
professed object was to secure a pliable leader who would consult
the wishes of the soldiers, even those desirous of returning. Such a
man, and withal of great influence and valor, was Verdugo, the
brother-in-law of the all-powerful patron Velazquez, and him the
conspirators chose as the new captain-general, unknown to himself,
since he might prove too honorable to engage in plots against the
commander. As a reward for his own efforts Villafañe claimed the
position of alguacil mayor, while other friends and influential men of
Narvaez were assured of the remaining offices, from alcalde mayor
and maestre de campo downward, now held by the retainers of
Cortés, as well as a share in the arms and other effects of the
doomed number.[1107] It was arranged that when Cortés was seated
at table with his intimate friends, as Alvarado, Sandoval, Olid, and
Tápia, a letter was to be handed him, as if coming from his father,
and while he was reading, the conspirators should fall on and stab
him and his supporters, since all must be removed who might prove
troublesome. The new officers were thereupon to be proclaimed,
together with the liberal plan agreed on, by which it was hoped to
allure even the friends of Cortés.
There were too many in the secret, however, and Cortés was a
man of magnetic influence. At the eleventh hour, two days after the
return from Xochimilco, says Diaz, an accomplice, struck with
compunction, rushed distractedly to the feet of Cortés and implored
pardon for having even dared to listen to the vile machinations. He
thereupon revealed the plot and stated that Villafañe carried the
names and details on a list in his breast-pocket. Cortés quietly
summoned his captains. He represented the need for a “remedy,
since, besides the scandal, it was evident that all the Spaniards must
perish if once they turned one against the other; and to this end not
only declared foes but allies would join.”[1108]
Attended by Sandoval and others, Cortés hastened to the house
of the accused and found several persons assembled. Some were
secured as they sought escape. Villafañe found time to take a paper
from his breast and tear it in pieces, but Cortés gathered and
arranged them,[1109] and was grieved to read the names of quite a
number of promising persons whom he had honored and regarded
as friends. Villafañe confessed the details of the plot, which had
been forming since the Tepeaca campaign. A court-martial was held,
presided over by Cortés himself, and there being no doubt of his
guilt, the accused was condemned to death and promptly hanged
from the window of his dwelling.[1110]
Cortés had probably no doubt regarding the guilt of the persons
named on the list, but the prosecution of so many notable men might
not be prudent, and would only widen the breach between himself
and the malcontents and gain them sympathy. The day following the
execution the general called a meeting. Many were the consciences
that pricked their possessors to trembling on that occasion. But the
sage Cortés preferred the traitors should risk their necks in winning
for him Mexico, rather than himself to break them with a rope.
Napoleon, who in national warfare could open with his sword the
veins of the people until there poured forth torrents of blood, shrank
in horror from blood shed in civil broils. It was policy with Cortés,
however. So, after finishing his narration of the conspiracy, he coolly
informed them that Villafañe had refused to reveal his accomplices,
and he could not therefore name the guilty. There were no doubt
men amongst them with real or fancied grievances which may have
induced them to harbor resentment; but let them frankly state their
wrongs and he would seek to right them. If he had erred, let the error
be named. The conclusion of the affair created general satisfaction.
Thankful for their escape, the guilty sought both by words and deeds
to prove their devotion, and although Cortés kept his eye upon them,
there was no indication that he suspected any. He rather sought to
win them back with favors.[1111] So impressed were his intimate
followers by the risk to which so valuable a life had been exposed
that they insisted on his accepting a body-guard of twelve select
men, under the command of Antonio de Quiñones, an hidalgo of
Zamora,[1112] who watched over him day and night.

FOOTNOTES
[1062] This is according to Cortés; others differ slightly, and Ixtlilxochitl increases
the Tezcucan force to 60,000. Hor. Crueldades, 13.

[1063] From tocatl and xal, spider and sand. Chimalpain, Hist. Conq., ii. 29. The
lake in which it lies is divided about the centre by an artificial causeway about one
league long, running from east to west, the southern water being now known as
San Cristóbal Ecatepec, from the town of that name, and the northern water as
Xaltocan or Tomanitla, San Cristóbal being also the general term for both waters.

[1064] See Native Races, ii. v.

[1065] Bachiller Alonso Perez, afterward fiscal of Mexico. Bernal Diaz, Hist.
Verdad., 135.

[1066] This incident was commemorated by some poetic follower in a ballad which
became a favorite with the conquerors:

En Tacuba está Cortés,

Con su esquadron esforçado,
Triste estaua, y muy penoso,
Triste, y con gran cuidado,
La vna mano en la mexilla,
Y la otra en el costado.

Which may be translated literally:

In Tacuba stands Cortés,

With his troopers strong and brave:
Sad he was and deeply grave;
Sad, and heavily oppressed.
With one hand his cheek he pressed;
Against his side, the other.

[1067] So runs Bernal Diaz’ account, which appears a little exaggerated, for
recently Cortés had shown the greatest caution, and would hardly have allowed
himself to be so readily trapped on so memorable a spot. Hist. Verdad., 126.
Cortés states that not a Spaniard was lost, though several Mexicans fell. Cartas,
187.

[1068] Herrera, dec. iii. lib. i. cap. vii.

[1069] They begged permission to return home, says Chimalpain, Hist. Conq., i.
31. Herrera relates that the efforts of Ojeda, by Cortés’ order, to take from the
Tlascaltecs the gold part of their booty so offended them that they began to desert.
The extortion was accordingly stopped, dec. iii. lib. i. cap. vii. Clavigero doubts the
story. Prescott regards the departure of the allies as distasteful to Cortés; but we
have seen that he did not care at present to encumber himself with too many
unruly auxiliaries to prey upon the peaceful provinces. The Tlascaltecs would
willingly have remained to share in raiding expeditions.

[1070] Including 8000 Tezcucans under Chichinquatzin. Ixtlilxochitl, Hor.

Crueldades, 15. On March 12th, says Vetancurt, Teatro Mex., pt. iii. 154.

[1071] Also known as Chimalhuacan-Chalco, to distinguish it from Chimalhuacan

on Tezcuco Lake.

[1072] Lorenzana inspected the position in later times. Cortés, Hist. N. Esp., 214.

[1073] ‘Que todos los que allí se hallaron afirman.’ Cortés, Cartas, 190. The
general lauds the achievement with rare fervor for him. Bernal Diaz sneers at the
river of blood story; but then he was not present to share the glory. The Roman
Mario was less dainty than these Spaniards under a similar circumstance,
commemorated by Plutarch; or as Floro more prosaically puts it: ‘Ut victor
Romanus de cruento flumine non plus aquæ biberit quam sanguinis barbarorum.’
Epitome, lib. iii. cap. iii.

[1074] Fifteen, says Bernal Diaz. Chimalpain, the Chalcan narrator, states that his
tribe lost 350 men, but killed 1500 foes, capturing the captain-general,
Chimalpopocatzin, a relative of the emperor, who now became a captain among
the Tezcucans, and was killed during the siege. Hist. Conq., ii. 34. Some of these
facts are evidently not very reliable. He also assumes that Sandoval lost eight
soldiers on again returning to Tezcuco.

[1075] The ‘comissario’ or clerk in charge of the bulls was Gerónimo Lopez,
afterward secretary at Mexico. Bernal Diaz, Hist. Verdad., 129. This author names
several of the arrivals, some of whom became captains of vessels. A number also
arrived during the following week, he adds, notably in Juan de Búrgos’ vessel,
which brought much material.

[1076] Gomara mentions also Maxcaltzinco as a distant place. Hist. Mex., 186.

[1077] The chiefs were awaiting orders to appear before Cortés. The general told
them to wait till tranquillity was more fully restored. The name of the other soldier
was Nicolás. Cortés, Cartas, 203-5. Herrera assumes that Barrientos arrived in
camp during the late Tepeaca campaign, dec. ii. lib. x. cap. xvii.
[1078] Of the rank and file none suffered penalty on returning, for captivity was
regarded as disgraceful only to a noble. Native Races, ii. 419.

[1079] Bernal Diaz states that the soldiers were tired of these repeated calls, many
being also on the sick-list, but Cortés had now a large fresh force only too eager
for a fray attended with spoliation.

[1080] According to a native painting the army entered here April 5th, which is a
day or two too early, and received a reënforcement of 20,000. See copy in
Carbajal Espinosa, Hist. Mex., ii. 523.

[1081] So says Bernal Diaz, Hist. Verdad., 130, who names four. Cortés allows
only two killed and twenty wounded; how many fatally so, he carefully omits to
mention. Cartas, 194.

[1082] Twenty fell, says Bernal Diaz. He speaks of two futile attempts on the
previous evening to scale the central hill. It seems unlikely for soldiers, tired by
repulse and march, to undertake so difficult a feat, and that at the least assailable
point.

[1083] Yet Bernal Diaz relates a story to show that the order was a mere pretence.

[1084] Cartas, 196; Torquemada, i. 536.

[1085] Some write Xilotepec. Bernal Diaz mentions Tepoxtlan, which may have
been visited by a detachment.

[1086] Place of the Eagle. Corrupted into the present Cuernavaca, which
singularly enough means cow’s horn.

[1087] See Native Races, v.

[1088] Cortés was so captivated by the alluring clime and scenery that he made
the town his favorite residence in later years. It was included in the domains
granted to him, and descended to his heirs. Madame Calderon speaks of his
ruined palace and church. Life in Mexico, ii. 50.

[1089] Ixtlilxochitl, Hist. Chich., 311. Brasseur de Bourbourg calls him Yaomahuitl.

[1090] ‘El vno se quebró la pierna ... y se me desvanecia la cabeça, y todavia

pasè yo, y otros veinte, ô trienta soldados.’ Bernal Diaz, Hist. Verdad., 132. Solis
misinterprets the passage, and gives this author credit for leading the party. Hist.
Mex., ii. 362. Vetancurt calls the district toward this spot Amanalco. Teatro Mex.,
pt. iii. 155.