"It's oppressed, " Winston said dispiritedly.
"Jou are friends of El Extinguirador?" Assumpta asked.
"He thinks he's my father," Winston said.
"He is," Chiun said.
"Is he?" asked Assumpta.
Remo and Winston looked at one another.
"No way," both said in unison.
Turning to Assumpta, Remo asked, "Can you lead us to Verapaz?"
"If you are truly friends of Senor Blaize Fury, I will do this, for I trust him with all of my heart."
Remo shot Winston a glance. Winston looked everywhere but back.
"Okay," Remo said. "One last loose end and we're out of here."
"What is that?" asked Colonel Mauricio Primitivo.
"You."
The colonel squared his shoulder boards. "I am no loose end. I am a colonel in the Mexican federal army."
"No, you're a war criminal in a civil war." And Remo whistled for some of the lurking villagers to come padding up.
"Jou cannot do this. It is uncivilized."
"It is justice," Assumpta spat out the words.
A knot of Maya surrounded Colonel Primitivo. Assumpta spoke to them in a musical tongue that was not Spanish by the quizzical look on the Master of Sinanju's parchment face.
Someone dropped a rock on the colonel's head, knocking him out cold. Others grabbed his ankles and pulled him back into the village.
"What's going to happen to him?" Winston asked as they started off.
Assumpta shrugged. "He may be flayed while living, or burned with the old corn."
"Kinda drastic."
"It is what happens to all who oppose the righteous justice of the Juarezistas. "
Winston Smith looked uncomfortable.
Chapter 39
Oaxaca in the valley was all but empty of men when the flowing train of Coatlicue lumbered in.
The federal government had ceded the capital of the entire state. The immaculate city in the valley was virtually deserted.
Dust still hung in the air from the departed vehicles.
They stood in the center of the broad, tree-ringed Zocalo, the plaza that all Mexican towns and cities possess. This one was not as great as that of Mexico City, but to the eyes of High Priest Rodrigo Lujan, it was holy. Because it belonged to him.
Towering above him under a sky dark with sinister clouds was Coatlicue, in whose name he had taken the city built over sacred Zapotec soil. Her skin resembled that of an armadillo now, covered in steely plates absorbed from the army tanks that she crushed and absorbed. No conquistador was ever so formidable, Lujan thought proudly.
"We are victorious!" he sang out.
"We are not alone," Coatlicue said, her voice ringing hollowly, her eyes peering from armored slits.
" What!"
"I detect the body heat of meat machines in the surrounding structures. A high probability of a trap is indicated."
"But no trap can possibly harm you, Coatlicue," said Rodrigo, stepping into the shelter of the living idol he worshiped above all.
"You must investigate this situation."
"You promised to protect me."
"Very well," said Lujan, adjusting his feathered cloak. He had acquired more festive garments along the way. Others had, too. Nearby stood a knot of Aztecs in the brine-stiffened uniforms of the Jaguar Company. Eagle Knights were nearby, bedecked in feathers both real and artificial. They carried weapons ranging from the obsidian-bladed spears to heavy hardwood clubs capable of dashing a man's brains from his skull.
"Jaguars. Investigate these buildings."
They moved with alacrity. And why not-for they understood that loyal service meant that they needn't be eaten. Not that they would turn away from the prospect. But there were other ways to serve Coatlicue, their Mother.
The Jaguars came back hauling trembling Zapotecs.
"Release them, for these are my people."
Going among them, Lujan blessed them with his hands upon their trembling heads, saying, "Welcome to your new life. For as long as you serve Our Mother, you will eat meat and live in splendor."
Then, lifting his voice in joy and triumph, Lujan called, "Come out, my people. Join the ranks of the new lords of Oaxaca. Come, come, do not be afraid. The world has turned upside down, and you have happily landed on the correct side. Come, step forth."
Slowly they came. Carefully. Zapotecs were in the majority, but a sprinkling of others showed their faces, as well. Mixtec, mostly. Lujan did not bless them. Mixtec invaders had usurped the old capital of Monte Alban, casting down the Zapotecs who had built it. That was many centuries ago, true, but in his heart Lujan decided these latter-day stragglers would not enjoy the best of the new Zapotec order. After all, someone had to take out the garbage.
In the middle of this rumination, a priest emerged from Santo Domingo Church.
He approached with a trembling certitude. His white cassock with the barbarian purple cross on its front swayed with each step. He walked behind a heavy gold crucifix, which he carried aloft before him.
Lujan welcomed him. "Padre! Come. Approach."
"I do not know from what hell you have emerged, Coatlicue, but in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, I banish you. Viva Cristo Rey !"