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| Illustration for "ALEXANDRA AND THE AZTECS" created by the author. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen J. Williams. |
Concept date: 14th February 2018
First published: 21st July 2018
Status: COMPLETE & PUBLISHED.
Revisions: 4 [last revised September 2019]
Version: Final.
Published Episode No. 04
Previous episode: "Alexandra: the reluctant French maid."
Next episode: “Alexandra grabs a second chance at happiness.”
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 7 - 633115 - 2 - 1521
This story originally appeared on the author's original website called: 'The amazing adventures of Jericho Tibbs!' and was transferred to the new site: 'The Temporal Detectives' in due course. That 'legacy' site is still available but receives no updates or new material.
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THIS EPISODE MAY CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS:SMOKING - ALCOHOL USE - VIOLENCE [INCLUDING SEXUAL VIOLENCE & BDSM] - STRONG LANGUAGE - GRAPHIC HARD SEX REFERENCES INCLUDING PROSTITUTION AND DIVERSE SEXUAL PRACTISES - DRUG REFERENCES - ANTI-RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS AND OPINIONS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING - COMMENTS AND BEHAVIOUR THAT MAY OFFEND SOME PEOPLE BUT WERE CONSIDERED 'NORMAL' IN THE TIME PERIOD. |
IF YOU ARE BELIEVE YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANYTHING CONTAINED IN THIS WRITTEN WORK, THEN DON'T READ IT AND CLOSE THE PAGE! CAUTION: “THIS EPISODE COULD CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE [including sexual violence] HORROR AND GRAPHIC, STRONG SEXUAL REFERENCES. RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 18+ years only.”  |
This episode has an average reading time of approximately 75 minutes.
This story can be found in "The adventures of Alexandra: Series 1" which is available from 'Amazon.com' and all good bookshops!
“People never noticed that small changes had taken
place. Most put it down to their memory or old age etc. It wasn’t until the
‘Information Age’ arrived with people chatting together, on Social media, that
some suddenly realized, they weren’t the only ones that thought the past was
different than its reported today.” Alex explained to Owen and shifted her
Castle across the board four spaces.
Owen nodded; “So until it became known as the ‘Mandela Effect’ most people thought it was just their memory playing tricks on them.” He moved his Bishop, hesitated a few seconds before removing his fingers from the piece. “They have no idea, that these were small changes to the Human Time-Line that couldn’t be undone.”
Alex smiled and captured his Knight with her Castle, continuing she added; “Sometimes the little changes cannot be undone despite our best efforts and some humans do realize that the present time has changed. But sometimes those ‘little’ changes create big change later down the Timeline.”
Owen sat back considering his next move; “You mean like what happened with that
strange Spanish Conquistador?” he asked and realized that Alex could check-mate
him in another couple of moves, if he didn’t really start to concentrate on the
game.
Alex nodded and sipped her brandy; “South America and the world generally would have been so different, if that Spanish Captain hadn’t fallen in love and nearly changed everything.” She sighed to herself and remembered that adventure with great fondness and a little horror, if she was really honest.
2. BEFORE THE CHESS GAME….
Jericho returned to the lighthouse just as evening was moving in; his boots
crunching upon the gravel as he walked slowly up to the large double, black
doors. Mr. Harris pulled them open and slightly bowed; “Everyone has just left
for the Dining Room Sir.”
Jericho nodded and handed the big man his coat and hat, whilst the delicious smell of hot food wafted around the Hallway. “Has our guest arrived? I asked Wilson to host him whilst I was with Angel Margret this afternoon.” Mr. Harris nodded affirmative and opened the Dining Room door for Jericho. All conversation ceased for a few seconds, then Alex rose from her chair and waved at their guest, saying quietly; “Sir, this is Temporal Detective Inspector Jericho Tibbs.” The little man stood and extended his hand to Jericho, who clasped it firmly; “Always a pleasure to greet a Senior Time Controller Mr. Albain, but we’re all totally fascinated that you would call upon simple temporal detectives.”
The little man smiled and adjusted his pebble glasses, then returned to his
seat. He accepted a plate of hot soup from young Ruth and dropped his napkin
upon his lap, lifting his spoon, Mr. Albain grinned; “I’ve heard the stories
about your House-keepers cooking and well, I finally couldn’t resist;
especially when all your guests speak so highly of it!”
Everyone chuckled and Mr. Harris smiled, he was always pleased to hear
compliments about his wife’s wonderful cooking. Jericho dropped into his chair
and Harris placed soup before him; “Brown Windsor, your favourite Sir.” He said
quietly and continued around the table, carrying the soup tureen, whilst Ruth
dished the hot liquid up. Everyone noticed the large portion poured into young
Owens’s plate by the smiling young girl, but nobody commented upon it; they
just smiled to themselves.
“I have a feeling that your visit is not entirely a social function Sir.”
Jericho sipped his soup and smiled a little. Mr. Albain nodded and placed his
spoon down; “Well, Mr. Tibbs you are quite right about that, you see, with have
a slight problem with the Aztecs, which left to fester may create unwanted
changes to the Human Timeline further down its history.” The little man clasped
his hands together and sighed; the smile had gone.
“The problem centre’s around a certain Spanish Conquistador; he’s just not behaving as he should do!” The little man sounded quite frustrated and picked his spoon up, then placed it back down. Everyone chuckled and Mr. Albain continued; “He’s being influenced by a young Native man who appears to exercise some sort of control over the man. Before his appearance, Captain Hernando De Plaza was quite normal for the time.” He sighed. “He killed and tortured, raped and stole from the local people without any regard for anything. Now, suddenly he’s forgiving people and feeding the starving widows and children. He won’t even burn heretics against the Catholic faith; which is quite unbelievable for that time period!” The frustration of the situation could be felt in the little man’s voice.
“You mean he’s gone native.” Wilson said and slurped his soup. “Yes, yes;
that’s quite right Sergeant.” Mr. Albain nodded and resumed his soup, relaxing
a little. “If this is allowed to continue the Human Timeline will change and
‘the BOSS’ has ordered that it will not.” He rolled his eyes towards the
ceiling and sighed. Everyone knew exactly what he meant.
“What do we know about the young native man?” Asked Alex; sprinkling some salt
into her soup. The little man placed his spoon down yet again and stared up at
the ceiling, then turned to Alex; “His Spanish given name is Mafias, his
original name is quite unpronounceable and his behaviour has changed too.
Originally, he sold his fellow natives out to the Spanish conquerors because he
can speak their language; the Spaniards paid him well for his much-needed
talents. Then, suddenly he has become St. Mafias!”
Mr. Albain slumped back in his chair and gestured towards the ceiling; “He
wants an end put to it and the line restored – by any means that achieves that
end. Do you understand what that means Mr. Tibbs?”
Jericho nodded and sat back in his chair; direct interference with the natural
progression of the Human Timeline, but what bothered Jericho was the change in
personalities of the leading pair: Mafias and the Captain. He had an inkling
that the ‘Dark Prince’ could be lurking in the shadows of this one and quite a
neat job he has done already!
The change to upstanding “Christian’s” by the two men would be a slap in ‘the
Bosses’ face alright – using such tactics would not be received too well
upstairs – that made Jericho smile a little. But then, ‘the BOSS’ didn’t have
much time for the religions that Humanity had saddled itself with, over the Millenia of Human existence. Everyone knew that his sister had argued; that he
should take a more proactive role with their creation – but ‘the BOSS’ had
followed their Grand-father’s approach and kept a ‘hands off’ policy in force –
unlike their father. The BOSSES father had interfered with the fledgling
humanity on several occasions: making headlines in the early religious books with
thunderbolts, Angels, nuclear type blasts and turning people to sand; which
were just some, of his more memorable forays, into the early life of mankind.
But his son had other ideas about the creatures inherited from his Grandfather,
who had first created them; they were unique from all other living entities:
they could think and reason because they had been granted ‘Free-will’.
So the ‘BOSS’ always stated the same answer to his sister’s question; they
[Humanity] had been given the privilege of ‘Free Will’ and how they exercised
that, were up to them!
So he only ordered direct interference with Human affairs when it was
absolutely necessary, like on the occasions that his wayward brother [Prince
David who was known as the Dark Prince] stuck his nose in – maybe this was one
of those?
Jericho had enjoyed his soup and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He had discussed
this very topic with Angel Margret that afternoon. His team would initially reconnoitre
the problem and then report back to her. Then, undoubtedly, she would get a
decision and subsequent authority to change the current time-line; from THE
BOSS directly.
The dinner party broke up a couple of hours later with Mr. Albain thanking his
hosts for a superb evening and taking some of Mrs. Harris delicious rhubarb pie
home in a ‘doggy bag’.
3. ALEX CULTIVATES A FRIEND TO HELP HER FUTURE PLANS.
Alex had hatched the plan and knew that the visit of Mr. Albain could prove most fortuitous to her; she just needed to convince him to help her when the time came. She smiled to herself and insisted in seeing the gentleman out. They stood on the steps of the lighthouse and chatted together. It was clear to Alex that the little man was interested in her. She smiled and laughed at his lousy attempts at humour and at one point pushed her arm through his and really smiled at him.
Finally, he asked if she wanted to see his office which overlooked the control desks of the duty Time Controllers. She nodded vigorously and clutched his arm with apparent joy and anticipation. The little man didn’t hesitate in whisking Alex to his office complex which was situated in an Austrian clockmaker’s shop in 1860. Like temporal Inspectors, he had the privilege of choosing where he lived and worked. And like Jericho’s lighthouse the place was enormous inside and existed in less than a tenth of a human second. His ‘office’ was plush and very well furnished including a big four poster bed in the main bedroom. They stood drinking very expensive brandy by the large open fireplace and Alex ensured that she laughed enough at his remarks and flirted with the man. Finally, he removed his spectacles and placed his brandy glass on the mantelpiece. “I’m not a very attractive man to women Miss Alexandra and a beautiful young woman like yourself showing me so much attention concerns me. Please be honest with me and speak about your intentions; they will go no further than this room. You know my word is solid and can be trusted, so please speak freely.”
Now Alex did admire the little man’s honesty [he was known for that] and straightforwardness, so she sat on the edge of the massive bed and patted it; gesturing for him to sit, which he did.
She told him most candidly what she hoped for and
asked earnestly for his help. He sat, hands in his lap, listening quite
intently and finally said quietly; “Yes, I have the power to do that for you
Miss Alexandra, but I must ask myself; why would I do it?” She smiled at him
and ran a hand over his short curly hair and slowly placed her glass on the
floor. “I can be very generous to those that help me and like yourself; I can
keep little secrets. Do you want to see how much I would love you to help me?”
He slowly nodded and Alex stood and ran her hand down her blouse, popping the buttons and pulled it open; she wasn’t wearing a bra. He slowly smiled as those magnificent breasts stood pert before him. She slipped off the blouse and slowly unzipped her little black dress, dropping it to the floor. She was wearing sheer black stockings and suspender belt with tiny, black lace panties. She dropped the skirt on the discarded blouse.
Alex knelt in front of him and gently jerked open the button on his flies. Nothing was said. He leaned a little backwards as she eased his cock out and pushed it into her mouth. Mr. Albain anticipated a ‘blow job’ to remember and that’s what he got! Under Alex’s expert sucking, licking and caressing he soon had an erection which Alex handled with great skill.
The little man striped his clothes off in less than a minute as she worked his cock with her hot moist mouth. He pulled her onto the bed and piled pillows under her head and shoulders; then knelt between her legs, slowly pulling down her panties. He pulled them off and held them to his nose; “The best perfume in the world.” He whispered and set to work on her open vagina with his own mouth, tongue and fingers. Alex watched with real satisfaction as he found her clitoris and they both enjoyed his efforts. Satisfied that she wet enough; he mounted her with some unbridled lust and passion. He wasn’t the biggest man to have her; but what he lacked in size, he certainly made up for in skill.
With her legs wide open and waving, Alex gripped his shoulders as he fucked her hard and fast. She groaned a little as he reached under her heaving arse and inserted his fingers into her bum and worked her anus with some determination. After five or six minutes of this frenzied fucking, they changed position, and he fucked her ‘doggy-style’ gripping her big tits with both hands as he buried his cock deep into her. She could feel his thighs slapping against her bum cheeks with some force. She groaned quietly as a couple of little orgasm’s escaped. They quickly changed position again with Alex riding him as they gripped hands. She bounced up and down groaning and moaning as he thrusted upwards. She had another little squirt, and he dropped her hands to grip her swinging tits. He pulled her down and feasted on them with his eager mouth.
They fucked for a few more minutes and she felt him ejaculate inside her with just a little moaning. They lay together saying nothing and finally he eased from her and lay back, wiping his sweaty face with part of a sheet. He smiled and slipped from under her and gently turned her onto her back. He pulled open her legs and knelt between them and set to work cleaning her open fanny with some relish. Alex wanted to giggle, but she restrained herself as he cleaned up his own cum. ‘Now that’s different’ she said under her breath and watched the little man working on her vagina.
They sat on the bed, their backs against the small mountain of pillows and shared a glass of brandy. He sighed as she finished the glass and ran a hand over face. “Now Miss Alexandra, may I ask for a special favour?” Alex nodded, thinking; ‘Straight up my bum next, I expect’ and was glad that she had a tube of the magic ‘KY’ jelly in her bag. He leaned into her ear and whispered. She nodded her head and sighed to herself. ‘Oh well, I’ve gone this far, so here goes’. He knelt on the bed, bent over, gripping some pillows as Alex probed his tight bum hole with her fingers and tongue. He told her to get her tongue right in which she did and he groaned with pleasure as she tugged his flaccid cock with her free hand.
After that, he walked her to the bathroom and climbed into the big tub and lay down. Alex stood over him, gripping the sides and pissed on him. He laughed and splashed her hot piss about, like he was having a shower. When she had emptied her bladder over him, he sat up and asked if she needed to poo. She just stared at him and muttered that she didn’t. He nodded and smiled; “I’m sure you could manage it Miss Alexandra. I love playing a toilet and you do really want my help.” She sighed loudly and squatted over him. It took a few minutes but the sick, perverted little man was well pleased with the result.
Alex walked up the lighthouse steps and finally managed to smile, her future plans now a solid start. All she had to do was keep the strange, sexually perverted Mr. Albain happy now and again.
The following morning the team gathered for a light breakfast and final briefing before heading to the Light Room and onward travel to Mexico in the year 1521.
4. A DYING EMPIRE.
The four young natives carried the litter with great skill over the broken path which rose continuously from the steaming jungle. Sister Serenity peered between the curtains and smiled; riding ahead, the young Bishop would be sweating profusely, despite having the privilege of a horse to carry him; from wearing that armour, jerkin and leather boots in this oppressive heat. She waved the delicate fan across her face; it didn’t improve matters much and she fondly remembered the heat of Southern Italy.
The summers in Cappanni had always been gloriously warm and clean; not like this sweaty heat of the jungle, followed by the freezing cold of bare mountains at nightfall.
“Apparently another thirty leagues before we reach the outskirts of the captain's encampment; this is slow going indeed my lady.” Diego wiped his face with a soft cloth which was already drenched in sweat, but smiled and adjusted his shirt, which clung with perspiration, flapping the cloth to allow air around his chest. Sister Serenity grinned; she thought Wilson would be comfortable with such heat; coming from Africa; then realized that he had resided in New York City, the entire time he was alive!
Glancing behind, she could see the long column of Spanish soldiers, in single
file, following at a slow pace. Some men already laid upon rough wooden
litters, inflicted by heat and fevers, being dragged by donkey’s or their
friends.
“Clean water, salt and Paracetamol would work wonders here.” She muttered and
then noticed the lone horseman approaching the convoy, the Spanish messenger
from Captain Hernando De Plaza no doubt. Sister Serenity and Diego exchanged
glances; Diego tapped young Santiago on the shoulder and pointed out the rider;
“A visitor from our forthcoming hosts.” Santiago nodded wearily; he hated being back in a Monk’s
habit again, especially in weather like this, and the large wooden crucifix he
carried was a real pain in the arse. He heaved the bloody thing upon his
shoulder again, like slinging a rifle.
“Why couldn’t he be nailed to a bloody fridge filled with cold beer!” he groaned and that made Diego laugh, then he noticed the strange looks being passed amongst the soldiers nearest to the palanquin.
“Stick to old Spanish!” He whispered to Santiago and smiled at the soldiers, some of whom crossed themselves in unspoken fear. The strange, big black man made them really uneasy. But he was the bishop’s personal servant and the Bishop carried the King’s word and that carried the power of life and death; the soldiers kept their thoughts and fears quiet.
The bishop lifted his right hand, and the column of struggling men and beasts came to a slow stop in the shimmering heat. Sister Serenity indicated to her carriers that they may rest, and the men gratefully lowered her gently to the rough ground. She stepped from the litter and stretched a little in the hot sunshine, covering her eyes, she viewed the Spanish Knight that saluted her ‘brother’ and bowed a little from the saddle.
After a little conversation, the bishop turned and
ordered the column to rest for thirty minutes whilst he and the Knight
dismounted and continued talking. Diego, Sister Serenity and bother Santiago
joined them – as did Lord Sebastian Garcia – the Bishop’s Commander of cavalry
and his Deputy.
The Commander had no time for fools, he turned to Sister Serenity and grinned
broadly; “Has that idiot become normal again and started burning these heretics
and collecting the tax owed to the King?” he slapped a hand upon his sword hilt
and added; “If he’s not capable, your brother and I will certainly carry out
the King and his holiness the Pope’s orders!”
Sister Serenity nodded her agreement, but sighed; she knew exactly what Lord
Sebastian had in mind: fire and the sword. He removed his steel helmet and
wiped his face and neck; Lord Sebastian was a big man - in size and appetite;
he loved women and gold - in any order. He had already made plan his feelings
about Sister Serenity's vows as a 'bride of Christ'.
"Fucking terrible waste; now the real fucking sin against God is that a beautiful
young woman like you is fucking wasted. You should be in a man's bed and bringing
children into this world - not on your knee's praying. The only time you would
be on your knees, if I was your husband, would be when you’re sucking…"
Sister Serenity had walked away at that point. He did apologise a little later - most grudgingly - it should be noted, for he felt he was still right in all he said. It was no surprise that most of the soldiers agreed with him!
"He has an ego the size of a mountain and talks far too plain. What he thinks he just says - a terrible habit." Father Alfredo had explained to Sister Serenity upon hearing the rumours of what Lord Sebastian had said to the young Nun. Father Alfredo was a very well educated man for a Priest; he had a passionate interest in Astronomy and the habits of plants. There was another rumour that he had been questioned [as a young man] by the Holy Inquisition over his idea's that the earth and all other planets actually revolved around the sun.
It was considered heresy at the time to question anything that the Bible stated. It was said that after torture, the young man recanted and was made to join the priesthood.
The choice between being burnt at the state after
further torture or becoming a priest; was actually a hard decision for the
young man to make. His dear mother's pleadings helped sway him to the Priesthood.
Thus thirty years older and far much wiser in the ways of the Church and men;
Father Alfredo was in the lands of the pagan Aztec's to convert them to the
true path and like him; they faced a similar decision - convert to
Christianity or be killed - quite unpleasantly it was promised.
But the good father was actually one of the better Christians for the age
and was popular with the common soldiers because he was pious and
kind, with an unusual sense of humour for a priest; in that he actually had a
sense of humour!
Upon meeting Sister Serenity, he offered the young Nun his litter and native bearers for the journey. At first, she refused, saying the elderly priest would benefit from the ride more than a young person would. She stated
that her legs were strong and could do the walking required. The old Father had
crossed himself and lifted his eyes to heaven; "Forgive me for talking about
a sister’s legs; strong or otherwise!"
Everyone - especially the soldiers - laughed at that and Sister Serenity had accepted his offer of the litter; with a small smile upon her face and the convoy set forth to the world of the Aztec's. The journey north was far more brutal than the Conquistadors could ever have imagined. The jungle trails they travelled were unforgiving with damp heat during the day and cruel cold at night; especially when the expedition crossed the mountain paths.
Several days into the adventure, the bishop had almost a third of his fighting men suffering from fevers and sickness. Some died and were given decent burials by Father Alfredo and Sister Serenity. At one point they had so many sick that Sister Serenity gave up her litter to the worse cases and walked at their side; attending to the dying men's need for comfort and care. That did not go un-noticed by the common soldiers [and many of the officers] and whenever they encountered the Nun, they would bow and cross themselves "Nestra pequena madre de amor" would be whispered. The young nun was gaining respect with each day of the torturous walk.
Now the column of weary and sick men rested in the hazy sunshine as the bishop held his officers conference with the Spanish knight sent by the now infamous Captain Hernando De Plaza - appointed Governor of this region; for the present.
"So the madman lays dying, truly the Lord works his will into the lives of
men." Lord Sebastian grunted and crossed himself. The little conference
broke up and everyone returned to the column - including the young Knight;
Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez; the captain’s messenger. He would lead the convoy
tomorrow into the city that was now under Spanish control. The bishop, his sister,
the monk Santiago and the Bishop's servant all gathered by the nun's litter and
spoke quietly.
Captain Hernando apparently lay dying; stricken with a strange fever that
caused hallucinations and visions of Christ and the Devil. The fevered captain had
risen from his sick bed on two occasions; one announcing the arrival of the 'Queen
of Heaven' [the Virgin Mary] and the second; begging forgiveness for his past deeds from the ghost of long dead native chief the captain had garrotted for refusing to give up his 'pagan' deities, then collapsed back into his hammock.
Jericho [the bishop] didn't smile at the news but admitted that the demise of the captain would conclude the mission quite early and very satisfactorily. Owen particularly liked that idea; "No more humping that bleeding cross about." He smiled and wiped his face and neck - again.
Wilson pointed out - quite discreetly - that little Rosa, the collector - was back amongst the expedition and yet another man had died. "Which reminds me; it’s time for my rounds." Alex said softly and rolled up her sleeves. Jericho pulled her to one side and pointed out she was not here to save lives that should pass over; but she could help those who will survive anyway, as much as she wants. With that little reminder apparently taken on board; Alex went about her mission with the sick. Father Alfredo helping out where possible. Wilson watched the pair and said quietly to Jericho; "Hopefully, our baby sister will heed your words this time, remember what happened in that bloody hospital in that big fucking war?"[See episode: 'Alexandra: an angel of mercy?']
Jericho nodded; but he did smile; Alex was Alex after all.
5. THE CAPTAIN.
Captain Hernando turned in his hammock and groaned;
Diego - his man servant- dipped the cloth into the bowl of cold water and wiped
it around the captain's sweating face. Diego turned to Mafias and sadly
shook his head; "He is not better Sir; he's still burning with
fever."
Mafias, a young, tall native man, wrung his hands and stared at the old man
turning slowly in his hammock, racked with fever and insatiable thirst. "I
have asked Sir Rodrigo to meet the Lord Bishop, inform him of our master's
plight. Hopefully they will have a surgeon with them, by the grace of
God." Both men crossed themselves. Captain Hernando groaned loudly and
suddenly sat up, eyes rolling and hands shaking violently; "Our Lady! Our
Lady! Have mercy upon this poor soul; send your daughter to care for my
soul!" He collapsed back in the hammock and struggled to sleep.
Diego sighed; "It's the same vision all the time Sir; the Virgin Mary." Mafias said nothing further but returned to his simple quarters and drank some wine. If his friend the captain died, then the bishop has the authority to appoint a new Governor and Mafias shuddered at the thought of Lord Sebastian Garcia.
The bishops Deputy would be the obvious choice; Mafias knew he would have nightmares about that selection and so would most of the native population of the city and surrounding countryside.
The convoy started to enter the city just as night was falling. The bishop and his officers made straight for the rooms of the stricken captain, with a concerned Mafias dashing from his quarters to join them. He walked quietly at the rear of the group and encountered Sister Serenity and Father Alfredo. He was not happy to discover that there was no surgeon with the convoy, but Father Alfredo happily championed the healing skills of the young nun. Mafias pleaded with Sister Serenity to attend his master; the captain. She, of course, agreed.
The group gathered around the hammock and the bishop called for the captain to explain himself. The captain half sat up with rolling eyes and contorted face; "I see you for what you are; minions of the true Dark One! You do the bidding of the wrong one!" He collapsed back into his hammock and fell silent. Father Alfredo and Sister Serenity rushed to his aid. But Lord Sebastian grunted; "He's as mad as a bat wearing a hat. The sickness has corrupted his mind and soul. Amen." He crossed himself, as did everyone else; except Mafias.
Sister Serenity held his head gently and ran her hand down his face and neck. She almost smiled; but didn't. She stood back and spoke to his faithful servant; "Keep him doused with cold water and make him drink plenty; water that is. He will recover most of his senses within a day or so." Mafias just stared at the young nun; how could she male such a pronouncement? What Mafias didn't know, was that Alex had seen quite a few cases of Malaria and this was a mild bout of the infection. It had almost run its course. A dose of quinine would reduce it considerably.
She turned and spoke quietly with her 'brother' the bishop. "He would have recovered with or without us." and smiled a little. Jericho nodded and turned to Lord Sebastian; "Take over from him until he recovers. Let us get the King's and the Holy Father's orders underway."
Lord Sebastian actually grinned at that instruction. "Yes, your Grace!" He shouted with tremendous enthusiasm and walked to the door, only stopping to say softly to Sister Serenity; "See, your brother is blessed with good sense for one so young. I truly see why our King and Cardinals love him so." Sister Serenity did not reply or smile at his heartfelt compliment. The fact that King Charles V [he was also the Holy Roman Emperor at the time] was a human agent of Temporal Inspector Thomas Harding [Team 71] and was always happy to help the Temporal Department certainly assisted missions in this era!
The sister and Father Alfredo would sit with the captain through the night. Mafias fetched a chair and blanket; he sat outside the room all night, catching sleep whenever he could. It was the Captain's servant shouting that woke him suddenly. He leapt from the chair, clutching the blanket like a child. Diego [the captain’s servant] stood in the doorway and gestured for him to come. He pushed into the sick room and found Sister Serenity feeding the captain from a wooden bowl with a large spoon. This time he did cross himself.
"It’s a miracle Mafias, a miracle!" Diego gripped his shoulder and smiled, saying softly; "They say she performs miracles in the name of the Blessed Virgin Mary." He rushed from the room to inform the other staff and soldiers of the garrison; of the good news. Mafias approached his old friend and took his hand. He could feel the difference. The fever had broken. He turned to Sister Serenity; "Thank you Sister. God bless you." He whispered and gripped his friend’s hand.
"Don't thank me Mafias. Thank God for his mercy." Was all she said and
ladled another spoon of warm gruel into the captain's mouth. Father Alfredo was
kneeling at the foot of the bed, praying. Mafias joined him. The news did not
please Lord Sebastian - strangely enough - and he grunted; "Sister Serenity
is too close to the blessed Virgin for my taste." He had already managed
to torture and hang a couple of natives. He had many more lined up for the same
fate.
Lord Sebastian left his quarters and walked to the makeshift prison; he had
another long day of torturing and hanging heretic dogs to come. He passed the
servant Diego, standing in the doorway of the kitchens; "He was near death,
and he called out for the Blessed Virgin to help him. Sister Serenity nursed
him all night and now he lives, It is a miracle, for she is a daughter of
Blessed Mary!"
Diego was happily speaking to the kitchen staff, who stood a little shocked;
they were expecting very different news. Lord Sebastian sighed and gripped
Diego by his shirt and flung him across the corridor. Diego slapped against the
wall and groaned. "Sister Serenity is no closer to the Virgin Queen, than
my arse is. If I hear you spreading such stories again; I'll have your tongue
struck from your mouth. Do you understand?" He kicked Diego up the arse and headed for
the prison.
The native servants in the kitchens all crossed themselves - quite vigorously -
and many had realized that the 'Gods' of the white demons were far more
powerful than the images they had worshipped. Even their feeble women could
call the dead back from the 'afterlife'. Diego rose from the floor and dusted
himself down. The rumours he had heard about Lord Sebastian certainly were not
exaggerations!
The team came together in Jericho's rooms, and he explained that; should
Captain De Plaza continue on his present course, the future of South America
would be very different. As would be the present day. Jericho sighed; "I
don't like saying it, but his death would have suited our mission. Now, he is
not scheduled to die for another two years and that would be enough time for the
changes to alter the future."
Alex sat on a stiff chair and rubbed her feet. "He would have recovered
from the fever without us or anyone else's help." She said and accepted a
cup of brandy from Owen; he had bought a couple of bottles with him; decanted into
wine skins. He smiled at Alex; "Would you like me to do that?" She
stuck up a single finger and pulled her boots back on.
Wilson stood by the doorway, arms folded, watching the corridor. "So what
do we do now?" He asked and then waved everyone into silence. Mafias was
walking slowly down the corridor with two other men: both natives. The older of
the pair walked slowly; his legs bent from a childhood disease. But the other
man was a strapping young fellow with a determined look about him.
Jericho rubbed his face and said softly; "Here we go." Mafias stood
in the doorway and bowed; "My Lord Bishop; Patkin the elder and his son
Astrin would like words with you. Patkin was chief of this city under 'the
Aztec' and his son was the War chief, of the city for the same King."
Jericho gestured for both to enter; he asked Mafias to translate for him [even
though Jericho and all other detectives had the ability to speak and understand
any human language; well, except Welsh probably!] He nodded for the old man
to speak. Patkin bowed and spoke for about a minute, then stopped and folded
his arms. Mafias clasped his hands together and nervously smiled; "The old
Chief asks, if you will allow the natives to keep more of the harvest than last
year. What the Spanish took, caused much hardship and some starvation amongst
the people, especially the children. Some died."
Everyone glanced at each other and only Owen couldn't restrain a smile. The Chief had declared his hatred of the white demons and had cursed them back to hell. Jericho smiled a little; he had a pretty good idea what game Mafias was playing. He nodded and told Mafias to tell the old chief that more corn and vegetables would be put aside for them. Mafias spoke to the chief and the old man nodded. He turned his back on Jericho and walked from the room. His son stood staring at Sister Serenity, then turned and followed his father.
Mafias thanked the bishop and went after the pair. They
had all heard Mafias tell the chief; "That the white demons would take what
they wanted, any food or women they needed, and he should be grateful, that the
white Lord hasn't taken his tongue for his words."
Everyone started to chuckle. Wilson picked up his cup and swallowed some
brandy; "I think our young friend is either a con artist or a very good
diplomat." He smiled and turned to Alex, adding; "I think a native
moth has felt the warmth of your flame." Everyone also laughed at that. That's when they heard the striking of the big drums on the wall of their
enclosure. An old trooper of Lord Sebastian's Cavalry appeared and
bowed, saying quickly; "My Lord Bishop, the scouts have returned.
There is a large native army about five hours away. The scouts said they
watched them, for nearly a full half day, and still could not count their number
in total."
Jericho told the old soldier to inform Lord Sebastian. He turned to the
others and shrugged his shoulders; "This could be in our favour.
If this fortress falls and all the whites are massacred, then the current timeline
will roll on." Alex sighed; "Bloody charming. Loads of people have to
die for us to succeed." No one could argue with that deduction.
6. A PRINCE OF THE AZTECS.
Alex sat in her quarters and checked her mirror; the handsome young Astrin was indeed a Prince of the Aztecs. She smiled to herself; he was a rugged, physically fit young man who would certainly turn women's heads - in any time - and he had certainly turned hers. That's when she heard a soft knock at the door and hid her mirror away. If any of the Spaniards saw it; they would be shouting witchcraft. Alex pulled open the door and couldn't stop herself smiling; young Astrin stood in the corridor and bowed a little.
"May I speak with you Sister?" He asked softly. Alex was surprised; he spoke Spanish. He looked about the corridor and said; "Mafias did not speak the words of my father. But I understand why. Lord Sebastian has a reputation for killing first and then not bothering to ask anything later." Alex nodded and gestured for him to enter. She closed the door quietly and really did smile. The young man was clearly a little upset and she should really comfort him in his time of trouble. That's what Nuns are for, comforting the upset. Especially the naughty ones!
They spoke for a few minutes and then the pair fell silent; they were both just staring at each other. She placed a finger on his lips and whispered; "Can you keep a secret?" The young man took her finger and kissed it - very slowly - and nodded. Alex took his hand and guided him to the big bed, and she sat on the edge and very slowly pulled up her habit and opened her legs. His eyes widened, but not as much as his smile.
He quickly pulled off his exquisitely embroidered lion cloth and it was Alex's turn to smile broadly. She sighed with some real pleasure and expectation. She gripped his large erect cock and lowered her mouth onto it. He groaned a little as she went to work, while he pushed a trembling hand between her legs and slowly caressed her already wet vagina.
Astrin soon joined her on the bed with Alex pushed up against the pillows, her long legs wrapped around his back, as he mounted her. She moaned as he entered her slowly and then gently started to thrust, she quickly pulled at the buttons on her loose bodice and offered him her soft plump breasts. His mouth soon found the stiff nipples and sucked hard, thrusting harder and faster into her willing body.
Alex's hands ran down his strong back and gripped his thrusting arse, pulling him closer and deeper into her. Their mouths found each other, and the pair was now fucking hard and passionately, as the old bed creaked under the strain of their love making. She groaned loudly, pushing a hand over her mouth as his moist tongue now caressed her neck and shoulders.
Her first orgasm came hard and fast. Astrin, sensing what was happening, fucked her harder and another one quickly followed. Alex's legs were kicking in the air, trembling and shaking with lust and passion. She would have been screaming, but her hand clamped over own mouth cut them off. The young man pulled himself up on his elbows and whispered if it he could pour his seed into her; it sounded urgent. Alex nodded her head vigorously.
Astrin groaned and said something in his native language and filled her with cum. Alex had another orgasm and released her mouth; the pair kissed with some real passion, as they lay in each other’s arms. Finally, the young man raised his head and drew a deep breath. He grinned and said softly; "If this is the new faith, then I'm becoming a bloody Christian!"
Alex laughed out loud and pulled him back to her mouth, whispering; "Bless you my son." which made Astrin laugh and plunge his tongue back into her delicious mouth.
They lay together for some minutes, kissing and whispering. Alex grinned and groaned a little; she could feel the young man's big cock growing inside her. He smiled and holding her firmly, but gently, turned her over and she sat on him. "I suppose it’s my turn to do all the bloody work." She said and started to ride him with real strength and vigour. He groaned loudly and Alex placed a hand over his mouth, adding; "Keep it down. Our neighbours will be calling the bloody Spanish Inquisition!"
Astrin grinned and gently took hold of her big swinging tits and feasted on them. That should keep him quiet, she thought and arched her back and really bounced up and down with grim determination. She gripped his shoulders and pushed down hard, rotating her hips and felt the tightness in her stomach; she muffled a little scream. She had another shuddering climax and collapsed on her lover. The pair lay kissing frantically and passionately. He gripped her tightly and still locked together, rose slowly from the bed; he was a lot stronger than he looked. He stood by the bed and jerked her up and down. Alex had her legs wrapped around his waist and arms across his shoulders. She groaned loudly and he came inside of her and the pair fell on the bed, exhausted from their love making. She ran her fingers through his long black hair and they kissed like newlyweds.
They lay together for some time, talking softly and caressing each other. Then Alex realized, she had to attend the 'Officer's Conference' called by her 'brother' the bishop. They parted – very reluctantly - and Alex dipped a soft cloth into the bowl of water on her bedside table and cleaned her gaping vagina and wet thighs.
She had a strange, wonderful feeling in her stomach, and she smiled broadly as she cleaned herself. Her lover had pumped so much cum into her, it took some time to clean up and she still felt that she had some left in her. "Now that's a bloody good souvenir of this little trip." She whispered and giggled, then quickly straightened her habit and wimple. She tided the bed and made for the War conference; still smiling.
7. THE WAR CONFERENCE.
All the Bishop's officers assembled in the small hall of the enclosure and
Mafias produced a drawing of the city and laid it upon the floor. Some knelt
and studied the drawing with great care. Captain Hernando de Plaza was sitting
on a stool with Mafias now by his side. He sipped some water, clutching the cup
with a feeble hand. He wouldn't be much use in the impending battle; he could
just about lift a cup, never mind a sword. He sat in silence as the discussions
centred on the means of defence.
Lord Sebastian wanted to take his cavalry and some infantry and attack the natives as they appeared. The bishop shook his head; “Why give up huge stone walls for an open field swarming with natives? Our two artillery pieces would cause havoc amongst the primitive solders of the 'Aztec'. We must fight with our strengths, gunpowder and stone walls. In such a small area, horses charging forward would be nearly useless. But if we make a killing courtyard and lure the natives in; we can cut them down in droves."
The young Bishop tapped the two walls which ran to the steps of the enclosure. "To reach us, they must take the entrance of our enclosure. But if these two walls have cannon placed upon each and good musket fire, then we can funnel them in and kill them in their hundreds. The cannons would be incredibly effective in such a small space; they will cut them up and drive fear into the hearts of those that witness such a terrible sight."
Every officer nodded their agreement - except Lord Sebastian, who just grunted and scratched his lice ridden crotch - Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez tapped the drawing with his dagger tip and smiled; "The Bishop is right. If we kill hundreds with cannon fire and muskets in such a small place, they will have to fight standing on the bodies of their friends!" The officers chuckled at that thought. Jericho glanced at Alex and smiled. He didn't even have to ask; what she was thinking!
Captain Hernando coughed and ran a hand across his damp face; "Should we not find out, what they want first. I mean before we start butchering them?" He handed the cup to Mafias and leaned upon his sword; "What harm could a little talking do?" He added and wiped his face again. Lord Sebastian shook his head; "You can't reason with these heretic dogs; they only respect the sword. So, I say let then saviour it." A couple of officers nodded their agreement with that statement. But Captain Hernando just chuckled; "Don't you mean that only we know and respect the sword, my lord?" Alex actually smiled at that.
The Bishop held up his hand; "Let us consider all things, if a little
talking with the natives buys us time to prepare our defences, then so be
it." Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez nodded his agreement; "The Bishop is
right. Any delay strengthens us and weakens them." So, it was agreed to
send an emissary to the native commander and find out his desires for the city
and its inhabitants. Mafias would have to go - to translate - and Captain
Hernando volunteered for the mission, which the bishop refused. Lord Sebastian
would go.
The conference broke up and the officers headed to their assigned posts and duties. Lord Sebastian took hold of Mafias by the shirt and whispered close to his face; "Make sure you translate my words totally and completely. Do you fucking understand that boy?" Mafias nodded and pulled away. He was shaking a little. "Yes of course my Lord." He muttered and bowed.
Captain Hernando rose - with some difficulty - from his seat and headed back to his rooms. Mafias rushed after him. Lord Sebastian turned to the bishop; "I suspect that there is a un-natural bond between those two. When I find it is so, I will kill the pair - with your permission of course, your Grace - and they can both rot in Hell for their perversions."
The Bishop didn't reply; he was staring at the map, still laid upon the floor. He turned to Lord Sebastian and gripped his shoulder; "Find out their strength, their weapons and how much stores they carry. If they are expecting a quick victory, then a steadfast defence will not suit their purpose or planning, understand?" Lord Sebastian nodded and strode into the corridor, shouting for Mafias.
Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez slapped his hand against his sword hilt in
salute; "For a man of God your Grace, I am so pleased that the King
sent a Bishop who also understands war." He looked to the departing
Lord Sebastian, adding - with a smile - "And men." He turned on his
heels and went after Lord Sebastian.
With no one in the room but his team; Jericho pulled his mirror out and ran
it over the drawing that Mafias had apparently drawn, just an hour
before the conference. Wilson took up his position by the doorway and Owen
asked; "What have you spotted Jericho?" Alex picked up the drawing and
then noticed the look on Jericho's face. "What have you got?" She
said and lowered the drawing. Jericho held up his mirror; the drawing was
almost an exact copy of a drawing that illustrated a Spanish book on the
conquest; except it was printed in 1798!
"Owen, can you run a check on young Mafias and do the same for the captain. I smell a time travelling rat here." Jericho smiled and thrust his mirror back into the folds of his jacket. Owen disappeared through the doorway and Alex folded her arms; "So, one or both are visitors here?" Jericho rubbed his face; "I strongly suspect that our dear Captain, didn't just change his spots overnight without good reason and the answer does, I believe, lay with Mafias."
Jericho walked to the doorway and stopped; "I suppose, I should tell you about the generous offer Lord Sebastian has made to me about you; should the city fall to the natives." Alex placed her hands on her hips and did not smile; "What bloody generous offer was that?" Jericho grinned; "He has offered to kill you - quite quickly - to spare you being raped by the native warriors. He said that you should go to God, untouched and impolite, not ravaged by filthy heretic dogs. That was most kind of him, wasn't it?" He said that bit, with some real sarcasm in his voice.
Alex just sighed and said to Wilson; "I'm going to steer well clear of
that mad bastard and watch my back." Wilson just smiled; "Believe me
baby sister; I won't let the mad bastard get within ten feet of you; if this
goes pear shaped." Alex patted his shoulder, smiling; "Thank you my
gallant Knight." Wilson chuckled; "If that's the case, then I must be
the very original black Knight!" They both laughed at that. Jericho just
shook his head and made for the gateway of the enclosure; to see Lord Sebastian
and Mafias depart.
Owen came back in the chamber and saw Alex and Wilson talking closely together;
her hand on his shoulder. They both smiled at him. "I don't know how he
does it. Jericho, I mean. Young Mafias is Philippe De Sousa. Human Records show
him born in 1840 in Portugal. He should have died in 1902, but he missed his
departure date; he's a missing soul." Wilson nodded; "What about the
Captain?" Owen smiled; "Genuine, he belongs in this time period. He's
due to die in just a couple of years. Killed by a rabid dog; not a pleasant
death, rabies I mean."
"Remind me never to pat any bloody dogs running about here." Wilson
grunted and turned back to Alex, who was staring at the window; she could hear
voices and cheering, Lord Sebastian and Mafias were heading out to the Aztec
army.
"Why on earth did Jericho send him?" She asked. Wilson adjusted his jacket and grinned; "Because the mad bastard is a good soldier and officer - despite being a total lunatic! - he'll get the information needed."
Owen sighed - unsmiling; "There's something that you should know - and Jericho, of course -that Mafias fled his home country for Spain in 1864. He was about to be arrested and tried for being a Homosexual. It was a crime in those days. Guess who else is of that inclination?" Wilson grunted; "The Captain?"
Owen nodded. "That's why he is here. He was given the stark choice by his family; to get out of Spain or face the Holy Inquisition and we know what a really enlightened bunch of jokers, they were in 1521.” Wilson gestured towards the door; "I think we should search young Mafias room for anything that doesn't belong in this time or place." Alex agreed with that; finding his time portal device - if one existed - would be a priority. If he had stumbled across a natural tear in the fabric of time, linked to this place, then they would have to try and find its location; and close it. Either way, searching his rooms would be a start.
They made for his small set of rooms and were not surprised to find Captain
Hernando there; sitting slumped on a chair, clutching a shirt of Mafias with
both hands. He clearly had been crying. Wilson stopped Owen from entering the
room and said quietly; "I think this is best left for Alex."
8. THE 'AZTEC' HAS ARRIVED.
Captain Hernando De Plaza was utterly astonished that sister Serenity did not
admonish him for his 'abominable sins' in the face of God's commandants.
"I have only loved two people - truly loved them - in my life. Mafias is one and young Felipe was the other. He was caught and questioned by the Holy
Inquisition. He was just nineteen years old and they tortured him brutally. He
betrayed all the men who had paid for his attention. But not me. I escaped all
inquiry and watched him put to death; burnt in our town square. He had been tortured
so badly, that he could not even scream in pain as the flames took him apart. I
cannot - I will not - allow young Mafias to end that way." The Old Captain
gripped Mafias’ shirt and held it to his wet face.
Alex poured some wine and gave it to the distraught Captain. He accepted it
with shaking hands and sipped slowly; "Never again." He whispered.
Alex sat with her arm around his shoulder; little wonder he had changed. He
would do anything to keep - and please - his young lover. Mafias - it appears -
had persuaded him to change his administration of the natives. To stop the
burnings and torture, stop the stealing of their precious crops and stop the
rapes and violations of their women and girls.
She sighed and realized; they had been sent to ensure all those horrors continued. She felt a little sick inside. But the current human timeline had to be maintained; if only for all those souls that would cease to exist if it changed. She recalled what Jericho always said; "Humanity progresses over the dead bodies of fellow Humans.” She now saw the terrible stark truth of his words.
Wilson knocked softly on the door and informed
them, that Lord Sebastian was back and the news wasn't good. Alex patted the
old man and refilled his glass, without another word, she opened the door and
joined Wilson and Owen on the other side, closing the door quietly. They made
their way back to the bishop’s quarters in silence; the corridors were packed
with panicking native servants and their families. They clearly wanted to escape
the city before the armies of the 'Aztec' arrived.
They stood in the room, drinking brandy poured from Owens’s goatskins. Lord
Sebastian had recounted that the 'Aztec' had about twenty thousand men under
his command; but compared to the Spanish soldiers, they were lightly armed.
They certainly had no muskets, cannon or horse. They would not 'parley' with
the Spanish garrison; they were here to kill them all and take back the city.
Any natives found to have 'co-operated' with the Spanish would be put to death
- and their families - then, they would pick a hundred young men and sacrifice
them at the temple.
Owen wiped his face; "They will hold each one down, over a stone alter,
and rip their hearts out whilst still alive." Alex sipped her brandy;
"These two sides are as bad as each other in reality." She said
softly and Wilson agreed with her. They could hear Spanish voices through the
window and knew that the garrison was preparing for battle. "It's going to
be a real fucking bloodbath with Cannons and muskets against clubs and spears.
Jericho's plan is actually a real good one. I wonder where he gained his
military skills from." Owen smiled and swallowed down his brandy.
"Just make sure that Alex is never alone with that mad bastard Lord Sebastian."
Wilson told Owen, adding; "If you have too, use your bloody mirror. You
can say that I ordered you. That will keep you in the clear." Owen nodded;
"I fucking would; with or without your orders." Wilson slapped him on
the back and grinned; "That's my baby brother!" Rodrigo Silvia De
Rodriguez appeared in the doorway and told them to seek shelter in the inner
rooms of the enclosure; the bishop’s orders.
He took hold of Alex by the arm - which surprised her - and whispered into her
ear; "If the time comes and those heathen dogs are going to overrun the
city. I will kill you quickly. They will not lay a filthy hand upon you Sister.
You have my word on that." He released her and headed for the walls of the
courtyard. Alex sighed loudly; "Why do all these fuckers want to bump
me off?" Wilson chuckled; "They certainly know how to sweet talk a
lady." The three headed for the inner sanctuary of the enclosure.
They were stopped by the young officer in charge of the cannon - hurrying
to the walls - with his two old 'Bombardiers' in tow. He bowed to
Sister Serenity and informed her, that should the 'Aztec' take the city, he
would personally put her to death - quickly - he never finished his generous
offer, because Sister Serenity just waved him aside; "Yes thank you so bloody
much. Now clear off." He walked away, in some astonishment. Wilson and
Owen really did laugh at that.
They found a passageway and it took them not to the inner rooms, but the East
wall. The Spanish troops were lined along the wall top, crouching or laying,
muskets ready. Behind them were some young natives, who really didn't love the
'Aztec'. They held spare muskets and were ready to reload. They would hand a
fresh musket to their soldier and load the one he just discharged; that way
they could keep up an almost constant fire upon the native warriors, who
appeared in the courtyard below. They knew not to bother 'throwing themselves'
on the 'Aztec's' mercy; he didn't have any.
On their hands and knees, the team crawled to the walls edge and peered down.
Coming through the large gateway were about three hundred native warriors. It
was quite a spectacle; they were dressed in vivid and colourful feathers, with
shields to match. The men in front of the lines of warriors were dressed in
jaguar skins and carried lethal looking wooden clubs studded with bone or metal
spikes. The soldier next to Alex turned and asked her to bless him; he was
about twenty years old and visibly shaking. She touched his shoulder; "God
is at your side my son." He smiled and wiped his face. He took her hand and kissed it; "I won't let them take you Sister; my
dagger will do its duty and you will be..."He didn't finish. The look on
Alex's face was enough to shut him up. He went back to staring at the natives.
"For Christ sake; they all want to bump me off. Why don't they just mind their own fu..."She didn't finish either, because Wilson tapped her shoulder and gestured to the other wall, the Bishop [Jericho] was giving last minute orders to his officers, who rushed away. Lord Sebastian stood by his side; sword drawn. "We need to tell him about the captain and especially Mafias." He whispered and lay on his back, operating his mirror. The native sitting behind the young soldier, watched with some puzzlement. Why was the dark man talking into a piece of glass? White or black, these people were really strange.
Jericho stepped back from the wall's edge and read his mirror quite discretely.
He looked up and waved at Wilson and Alex; Owen was still flat on the wall's
floor. That wave started the battle. The Spanish open fire with everything they
had. The noise was deafening, and smoke filled the enclosure. When the cannon
fired from the East wall; it shook gently, and Alex held her hands over her
ears.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" She said, as the young soldier and his native
loader exchanged muskets. The soldier grinned at her; "That's the best
blessing I've heard since joining the fucking army of Cortes!" He turned
and fired again. The native was already finishing the reload. Alex crawled back
to Owen, with Wilson right behind. "He certainly knows how to start a
punch up!" She yelled to Wilson over the noise. The cannon fired again,
and the wall actually shook this time.
"They're stuffing all types of metal and crap in the cannon. Can you imagine
what that's doing to the natives down there; they have no armour. No
protection." Owen shouted as an arrow bounced off the floor next to his
legs. It was quickly followed by another, then another and soon it was raining
arrows. They found a gap in the stone wall, as it joined the building that it
ran from, a small shelf. Wilson took hold of Alex and pushed her under it.
"Keep your head down!" He shouted.
But she had seen the young soldier, struck by two arrows, lying still and
prone. The native was now firing the musket down into the courtyard. She went
to give aid, but Wilson physically pushed her back and shook his head;
"Not this time baby sister, you are going to sit this one out!" Owen
had pushed up against the buildings edge and checked his mirror. "Jericho
says get to the fucking inner sanctuary and he'll join us there. They are
taking the wounded there and you can help, if you want Alex." An
arrow bounced off the wall, inches from his head. "To quote William
Fucking Shakespeare; let’s get the fuck outta here!" Wilson yelled and
they left the wall; in a hurry.
9. THE DEVIL'S HOSPITAL.
They ran down the badly lit corridor and found their way blocked by the young
artillery officer, they had met earlier. He had clearly been badly wounded. He had
an arrow in one arm and one in a leg. But he held up his sword and panted;
"Don't worry Sister, I'll do my duty...it will be quick..." He lifted
his sword, but Wilson just grunted and decked him with a single punch. He and
Owen then heaved the young man up and carried down to the rooms, which had been
turned into a makeshift hospital; by the native women.
"That's the best pain relief he can get - in this time and place - Let me
at him." Alex said quietly, as Wilson and Owen placed him on a pile of straw.
A native woman handed Alex bandages and water. She also gave her an evil
looking pair of thin tongs. Owen pointed to them; "What the fuck are they
for?" Alex turned them in her hands; "Well, it will have to do. I
should be able to get the arrow heads out with these."
More injured men were arriving. Alex now shouted her orders in the native
tongue. That actually shocked the natives more than the terrible wounds on the
men. How did the strange white woman suddenly pick up their language; and
with such Fluency?
Some of the women crossed themselves but carried on tending the wounded. Owen
stared into the big room next door; there were several dead bodies laid out and
he knew that they would be soon be joined by more of their comrades.
"Where the fuck is Jericho?" Wilson muttered, then saw Mafias bending
over a groaning soldier; his hands were coated with blood. He seemed to know
his way around wounded men. The look on his face, when he heard Sister Serenity
talking in his native tongue was priceless! A young native woman was assisting
Alex. "I may be a simple woman of the 'Aztec', but you are gifted by the Gods
Sister. You have the touch." She poured water over the gaping wound and
the soldier groaned loudly. Alex was stitching him up with a rough needle and
thread. The young officer opened his eyes and stared at her; "Sweet Jesus!
The devil has arrived!" and collapsed back on the straw; groaning loudly.
"He's always been around. I know him personally; the bastard." Alex
muttered and repeated her treatment on his leg. The native woman chuckled; Alex
had forgotten she was still talking in the native tongue. She finished and
moved on. Most injuries were caused by arrows. The real nasty - hand to hand -
combat had not yet begun. The natives were a also little shocked, to see
that, the Sister treated both native and Spaniards without favour to either.
They had never seen that before and many crossed themselves in reverence to the
nun.
The battle raged above for about an hour and then quiet descended on the enclosure.
Owen and one of the young native boys went to find out what was now happening.
The rooms of the underground chamber were now filled with injured and dying
men. The temporary morgue now had about twenty corpses laid about the stone
floor. They had to carry fresh bodies there with some care; the floor was
running with blood.
Owen and the boy returned some minutes later; carrying buckets of water; which
was gratefully received by everyone. Wilson and Alex pulled Owen to one side and
asked about Jericho. "He's fine and so is Lord Sebastian - unfortunately -
but a messenger managed to climb over the wall, he's from General
Corte's army. He has taken Tenochtitlan and captured the Aztec King; the
one here is a brother or uncle or something. They could have overwhelmed
us, but they must have received the same news. They have stopped fighting
and now are just sitting about."
The noise of screaming men and horses started to drift down
the corridors and the team headed for the walls. They crept along the
East wall; there many dead natives and Spanish soldiers sprawled long it. Alex
actually turned away from the sight in the courtyard. It had been simply a
slaughter; the bodies of the brave, young Aztec warriors were piled two or three
deep, the entire length and breadth of the courtyard. The cannons and muskets
had done their awful job with horrific efficiency. There were several Spanish
soldiers climbing amongst the bodies, finishing off any wounded men with their swords
and daggers.
Wilson stared through the gateway - from where all the noise was coming - and could see horses. Lord Sebastian's cavalry had charged the sitting Aztec's with the infantry behind him.
Apparently, the native warriors offered little resistance and were slaughtered where they stood or sat. They Spanish were not taking prisoners. The only thing that stopped the relentless killing of the natives, was the fall of night. It was too dark - and considered too dangerous - to continue in the darkness. Father Alfredo had arrived in the 'hospital' with boxes of fresh supplies and natives carrying much needed clean water and wine. He embraced Sister Serenity like a long-lost daughter. "Thank God for sending you, my Sister. The men say you are the blessed Virgin herself; returned to give aid and comfort to the Spanish soldiers. I am just a humble priest, but you fill my heart with such pride, that I have given myself a hundred 'Hail Mary's' for penitence!"
Alex just nodded at his praise and said quietly; "There must be burial parties arranged. The heat will soon make this entire city a rotting morgue and then disease and pestilence will soon follow, and the people of the city will become more victims."
The old priest nodded and tapped her arm; "I will speak to Lord Sebastian. He must see the sense of that." He turned to go, but Alex grabbed his arm; "Surely My brother - the bishop - is the man to speak too."
Father Alfredo shook his head; "The messenger that carried the incredible news of General Corte's victory, also brought news that Lord Sebastian Garcia was to assume command of the region. Captain Hernando De Plaza has been arrested and imprisoned by Corte's order. Your brother - quite correctly - has stood aside." He made his way from the rooms, passing Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez, who stood and stared at the wounded. He bowed to Alex and smiled; "For all that Lord Sebastian claims victory here, everyone knows that your brother was the force behind it. But no one can take away your courage, dedication and skill with the wounded. May I kiss your hand?"
The young Knight bowed and held out his hand. Alex held out her hand and he kissed it with some passion and continued to hold for far longer than he should. She actually had to pull her hand away and wiped it on her habit. Rodrigo smiled and bowed again; "Should you ever have need of me; just call, my heart, soul and sword are yours." He turned away, not taking his eyes off her and then left. Wilson just sighed; "You know what I would say, so I'm not saying it!" He softly chuckled and gestured for them to follow him, adding; "Let's find Jericho and find out what's next."
10. THE SPANISH KNIGHT.
Alex explained that she had to change her habit and
apron; they were soaked with blood from the many wounded men she had attended.
She ran to her room and began to undress. She was soon quite naked apart
from her wimple and small black boots. That's when she realised she was not
alone! Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez stepped from the shadows of the large
curtains and bowed. "You are a real beauty, Sister; inside and out."
Alex made no attempt to cover her glorious nakedness.
Rodrigo threw down his sword belt and carefully placed his pistol on the bed. He pulled off his dirty blouse and threw that down too. He walked up to her and pulled Alex into his arms. "I will make you a real woman Sister and you will thank me for it."
Alex said nothing, but just stared at him. His head
went down and his mouth found her big breasts. He was not gentle and sucked
hard and gripped them strongly. Alex groaned as a hand found her crotch and he
pulled her onto the bed, roughly pulling down his trousers. He didn't bother to
take off his black thigh boots.
Alex lay pressed against the pillows on her back and he pulled open her legs and mounted her without saying a word. She gripped the blankets and groaned; he wasn't gentle and started to thrust hard immediately. He fucked her like a bull in heat. He didn't attempt to kiss her and said nothing - except to praise God - and hold her firmly down as he took her quite brutally. "Not one for bloody foreplay then." She moaned and he slapped a hand across her mouth and continued to fuck her hard and fast. "Quiet woman while you please your man." He gasped and pushed her legs up, so that her knee's touched his shoulders. "I will teach you to submit as a woman should." He said, grinning.
Rodrigo fucked her hard for some minutes and Alex couldn't stop the bloody big orgasm that started in her stomach, ran down her shaking thighs and spurted from her cock filled cunt. She gripped the blankets tightly and groaned loudly. He chuckled; "That's right my little woman. Enjoy tour master's cock and pray for forgiveness afterwards." He fucked her for another couple of minutes and then cursed loudly as he came in her quivering fanny. He gasped and took several deep breaths, then pulled from her and stood stretching by the bed; like an athletic warming up. He pulled up his trousers and smiled at her.
Alex lay against
the pillow panting and wiping tears from her face.
"Now that's what a real woman does for her man
and with God's grace, your belly will swell with my child and you will be a
contented wife of a very rich man." He snatched up his sword belt and
pistol and then tugged on his blouse. He walked to the door and said quietly;
"Your brother will have to release you from your vows and accept my offer
of marriage. No other man will want you now that I have poured my seed into
you." He left, closing the door softly.
Alex lay crying and finally pulled herself together. If she was brutally honest with herself; she had really enjoyed the rough sex at his hands. He had taken her as he wished, dominating her and fucking her like a dog. She breathed deep a couple of times and slipped from the bed. She felt his cum running down her thighs and headed for the bowl of water and a soft cloth.
She cleaned herself and then thought; she would [and the team] have to depart before Rodrigo approached her 'brother' and Jericho found out what had taken place between the pair. She didn’t want him to know, especially after the incident with Mr. Babette. Those thoughts made her smile and ached for his caresses again. Alex sighed and dressed quickly. She headed out to join Owen and Wilson.
11. DARKNESS IN THE TEMPLE.
They made their way to the bishop’s quarters; the corridors were filled with Spanish soldiers, drinking and singing. Many stood and bowed as Alex passed by them.
Many crossed themselves and a couple of much older men, called out to her; "Nestra pequena madre de amor!" The others all cheered. She just smiled at them. Owen chuckled; "I'll start taking names and maybe, a small subscription for your fan club." Wilson laughed at that.
They found Jericho in his quarters; sprawled in a hammock, with one leg hanging out, apparently reading a book. Owen noticed that a goatskin of brandy lay on the small rough table, near the swinging 'Bishop'. Jericho looked up and smiled; "Ah, my trusty troops. Everything OK?" Wilson eased himself onto the stiff backed chair near the window and held up a wooden cup, he gestured to the goatskin bag; "Any chance of some brandy?" Owen sighed and filled up two more cups with brandy; he re-filled Jericho's cup and eased himself down on the floor.
Alex accepted her cup and took a couple of sips. "What's going to happen to the captain now?" Jericho shrugged his shoulders; "His fate now lies with Lord Sebastian; the new Governor of this region. I doubt if Captain Hernando De Plaza will interfere with the human timeline anymore and that means our job here is done." He sipped his cup and swung his free leg back and forth, adding; "Our dear Lord 'let's murder everyone' Sebastian, will also deal with young Mafias. He suspects that the good captain and he [Mafias] are having a homosexual affair and that's punishable by death in this time and place. Since he now has total authority; his suspicions are good enough to have both condemned."
Wilson grunted his agreement; "But Mafias will be a lost soul and we shouldn't really allow that." Alex agreed with Wilson and stretched; she was quite stiff from bending over all those wounded men. Wilson grinned at her and jumped up from the old chair. "You better rest those legs of yours girl." Alex smiled and gently eased herself down on the seat. "Thank you, my gallant black knight." She whispered and drank some more brandy. Both her and Wilson chuckled. Owen just sighed; "Knight my arse."
Jericho leaned back in the hammock, thinking. He slapped the book down on the small table and rubbed his chin; "Wilson is right about that; if Mafias is put to death here; he's soul will be lost and we certainly should prevent that - if we can - but the question is; how?"
Diego [the captain’s loyal servant] appeared in the doorway; he didn't look happy - he looked terrified - and bowed, removing his hat. Jericho told him to speak. "My Lord Bishop, they have taken the captain, to the temple and chained him up like a dog, in a room there. Please help him my lord. They say that he has been working for the devil and fornicating with young Mafias. Lord Sebastian has ordered his trial and they will find him guilty, even though he is innocent of worshipping the evil one. They say, that when he is found guilty of such crimes; they will garrotte him on top of that accursed place which is forsaken by God and his angels."
"Good Spanish justice." muttered Owen with plenty of sarcasm in his voice. Jericho slipped from the hammock - most reluctantly - and straightened his jacket. "Where is Mafias now?" He asked the trembling man, who bowed yet again; "He has fled the city my lord. Gone. He has left the captain to face this alone." He wiped his face, he was crying for his good master.
Jericho sighed; "I'll see what can be done. Thank you. Your loyalty to your master is most admirable. Go now." Diego almost smiled and bowed again saying 'thank you' several times and was gone. "Well, that throws a spanner into the works. How can we help the twat [Mafias] if he's not bloody here?" Wilson said and sipped his brandy. That's when Father Alfredo appeared in the doorway looking terrified as well.
"Now what?" Owen whispered and finished his drink. The old priest looked behind him several times and spoke quickly; there was total disbelief in his voice. "You must get her out of the city my Lord, even your position will not save her from the flames!" He gestured wildly at Alex, who rose slowly from her chair. He gasped a couple times and gripped his crucifix with both hands that trembled. "Lord Sebastian has heard that Sister Serenity spoke in many tongues and performed surgery on the wounded men. A woman cannot do that; it’s not allowed. He says that the devil must have given her such skills. He says a demon has taken her and she now serves the dark one and all of you will be tainted by her closeness to yourselves. You must go!"
Everyone was silent until Alex said quietly; “Ungrateful bastards.” No one could argue with that sentiment!
Jericho calmed the old man down and said quietly; "The bastard is getting rid of anyone who witnessed that I commanded and won the battle. He's using Alex to for that end. It's actually me, he wants out the way." The priest pointed to Wilson; "The artillery captain, who she saved, has given testimony that your black servant struck him; knocking him to the floor. A black man cannot touch a white man. They will garrotte him for that alone. You must flee; now!"
He ran to the door and called back; "Soldiers are coming. They come to arrest you all for witchcraft and devil worship, you must go...." He turned back and saw that the room was empty. He slowly kissed his crucifix and slid down the wall, the old priest had fainted. He clearly knew that he had been fooled by Satan himself and his minions, dressed up as members of the Church.
Father Alfredo lay groaning on the floor, with a
dozen, half drunk soldiers standing over him. They asked him several times about
the 'Bishop' and the witch. He just lay moaning and so, they dragged him up and
took him to Lord Sebastian.
"Ungrateful bunch of bastards." was all Alex said as they walked back to the lighthouse. That made Wilson chuckle. "Maybe in the future, you won't have such a soft spot for the living." Owen scratched his arse and swore blind that he had caught lice from some dirty bugger in that period. "They washed less than a desert scorpion." He muttered. Jericho walked ahead, swinging that book he had been reading, whilst laying in the hammock.
"What is that damn book about?" Alex asked - still a little angry at the treatment she had received from the Spanish - and it showed! Jericho held the book up; it was an old leather-bound volume with no titles printed upon it. He shouted back; "It’s a journal actually, written about 1537. It's in a mix of old Spanish and Latin." He jumped up the steps and Mr. Harris took his coat and hat. Alex was intrigued, she turned to Wilson; "Where did he get hold of that? We were in the year 1521. That's some sixteen years before the bloody thing was written." Wilson shrugged his shoulders; he was now intrigued too.
Owen was too busy moaning about his arse to pay much attention to the conversation. But he did mutter: "How can it be from 1537 and yet, it’s well worn and old? How can it be in that condition in 1521 [the year Jericho was reading it] It should be quite new; unless someone bought the damn book back with them from some future date." Wilson and Alex exchanged a glance; Young Owen may have his faults, but his mind was razor sharp!
They laid about the study; waiting for dinner to be called. Mr. Harris served everyone coffee and finally Alex had to ask: "What is the Significance of that damn book you were reading, whilst swinging in the hammock?" Jericho chuckled and placed the book on the coffee table and eased back in his chair.
"It's the rambling recollections of a young Spanish Nobleman who took part in the conquest of Mexico in the 1520's. It had been lost for many centuries, but was discovered in an old library in Madrid, about 1865. Then, just as authorities got all excited about its finding; the bloody thing disappeared. Some bugger had nicked it." Jericho picked the book back up and opened the first page; there was a self portrait of the writer. Everyone stared hard at the drawing.
Alex smiled: "Bloody Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez." She said simply and finished her coffee.
"Apparently he made more money from this, than he ever got by looting the Aztec Empire of its treasures." Jericho chuckled. He tapped the cover; "Your mentioned in it Alex, as is Wilson, Owen, me and Father Alfredo. They're all there; a real cast of characters. He makes it plain - without actually spelling it out - that you and he were lovers! In his 'recollections' you’re not a nun, but a beautiful Spanish Courtesan [prostitute] and I'm a surgeon, who demands money from the wounded and sick before he does anything for them! Thus, history records Lord Sebastian as the victor of the battle and almost Saint like in character!"
"So it was a bloody big cover up and written to favour the victors." muttered Wilson, adding; "Winston Churchill always said that history was written by the bloody victors." Owen coughed; "Well, he may have quoted it, but no-one really knows who actually said it." Wilson shrugged his shoulders; "Don't matter who said it first; it's bloody true!"
Jericho chuckled; "That's why I said it fine to help the wounded Alex; you had already done so. Even if; in the book you were portrayed as a tart. The fact is that it happened. So you would have to help or the timeline would change because you didn't." He explained. Alex nodded; she had wondered why Jericho said it was ok.
They sat in silence for a few moments and then Alex exclaimed: "He's a bloody lying little shit bag!" She needed a brandy and walked over to the drinks cabinet. She knew that she didn't even have to ask the others, if they wanted one. Alex wouldn’t mention her little fling with the book’s writer and would sooner forget that incident now. She was always surprised that she was drawn to some real ‘bad boys’. Little wonder he had written her up as he did [also the time period would have affected the writer's decision to portray Alex as a 'Whore' and not a Nun. The all powerful church simply would have not allowed it!] and she would keep that fact as her little secret. He [Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez] hadn’t mentioned her encounter with the Aztec prince because he simply didn’t know about it.
Alex smiled to herself remembering that young man
who had now been dead for centuries; she hoped he found some kind of happiness
in those dreadful times.
Jericho continued; "The big black man [Wilson] was a Christian Moor, who's favourite pastime was playing hangman for Lord Sebastian [the only character he represented almost accurately] and spent his leisure time raping native girls and praying for their heathen souls."
Wilson just shook his head; "What a fucking little shit!"
Jericho jerked a thumb at Owen; "Now, here's a classic. Owen was a brave young Spanish.....Accountant and Tax collector for the King!" He really laughed at that. "Apparently, you would have people tortured and mutilated, if they were a few pence short of the tax demand." Jericho added and finished his coffee.
Alex just shook her head; "So it’s a pile of bollocks - a very old pile of bollocks - but bollocks nevertheless." Wilson nodded; "Yeah, but there was probably no-one around to argue its dishonesty, when it was published. How many would have survived to return to Spain and tell the true story? Lord Sebastian certainly wouldn’t have demanded he write the truth."
"I found the book amongst young Mafias’ possessions in his room. I knew he had
brought the journal back from 1865 because of its condition. It may have
come, as a bit of a surprise - no, shock - to find that we were not as
recorded. He learnt a valuable lesson for a wannabe 'Time Lord' - History is
never really how it is written or remembered!" Jericho chuckled,
adding; "He [Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez] even did a hatchet job on poor
old Father Alfredo, in the book, he is a fanatical Priest who wants all
heretics burned. He described him as almost Pope like in his frenzy to bring
Christianity to the natives. As for the good Captain De Plaza, well, he did a
good job destroying his legacy. He's shown as a psychopath who thought he was
Jesus Christ himself! The book claims he was seduced by a minion of the devil
[Mafias].” Jericho leaned back and smiled broadly.
“Mafias clearly didn’t recognize himself in the book otherwise – if he had any brains – he wouldn’t have jumped back quickly!" Jericho sat up and grabbed the book from the coffee table smiling and held it up, adding; "Anyone fancy a little bedtime story?"
No-one took up Jericho’s generous offer and he placed the book on the coffee table, then stared at it. He hadn’t mentioned one chapter near the end of the book which was clearly written about a high paid Courtesan at the royal court of Spanish King Charles V. He smiled to himself; he had recongnised Alex by her clear description and the author certainly had too. Jericho surmised that they must have a future mission there and Alex was playing the tart again! She wouldn’t be happy about that, so best only tell her when the mission file appears. Now that made the Temporal Inspector really smile.
"This mission was deemed a success because the timeline was restored
with very few - and acceptable - changes. The only concern was the
disappearance of the time travelling 'Mafias' and failure to capture his time
portal device. Alex has forged some kind of alliance with a senior time controller and does she have plans outside the Temporal Department? But it wouldn't the first time that Alex plays a very naughty nun!"
Lord Sebastian Garcia remained Governor of the small region for several years.
He is credited with murdering thousands. He robbed and stole, raped and killed.
The Spanish King rewarded him with a large estate outside Madrid. He
retired there in 1529 and married a young wife. His descendants are still
nobility to this day. He lived until he was 71 - a very good age for the
time - and died in his bed, surrounded by his large family. His soul was
collected and processed. He was quarantined until 2100.
Rodrigo Silvia De Rodriguez returned to Spain and wrote books and
journals about his adventures in the 'New World'. They were mostly -
to quote Alex - a 'pile of bollocks'. He became a minor celebrity and married
well. He died in 1541 of 'fever' in his grand house. His soul was collected and
processed.
Father Alfredo remained in the 'New World' until his death in 1532. He was a kind man and forgiving priest. The local natives mourned the old man, and he was buried in the local Churchyard - new in 1532 - but was demolished in the 1930's to make way for new government offices. The priest is now totally forgotten by locals and history. His soul was collected and processed.
Diego Hermaness [the captain’s servant] survived his master by only a few months. He had been tainted by his loyalty to Captain Hernando De Plaza. He was executed under false charges of treason and witchcraft. They were a little merciful to the old man; they hung him, instead of garrotting. His soul was collected and processed.
Maria Certres [the native woman who assisted Alex] survived the initial Spanish conquest and married a clever native man, who knew how to handle his new 'masters'. They had several children and Maria's story about Captain Hernando De Plaza became the main source of rumour and legend about the man. But it was her stories about the strange and dedicated nun; passed down the generations of her huge family of descendants, that really caught on. The local nun’s convent is known as 'The House of Sister Serenity' and remains there to this day; though few know why it is called so!
"The team [and us!] found out that you can only trust 'history' so far! The wonderful old expression 'History is written by the victors' comes to mind here with the Knights book basically [as Alex put it beautifully] 'a pile of old bollocks!' But as said at the time; who was around later to challenge it? That's also the real problem with the current 'WOKE' craze in trying to rewrite parts [or sanitise them] of history to suit the 'modern' mind set! I have stated many time before: 'History should not be changed or sanitised to suit different times and different tastes: history is history, let it speak it for itself - right or wrong!"
