Hernán hated this place. Mosquitoes, bugs, humid air, tall grass, and the jungle, they all made him miserable simply existing at the moment.
Hernán took a canteen from one of his native servants and poured water over the hot armor he wore. For a brief second, there actually was a sizzling sound.
The men looked at their leader enviously as he liberally used their water, but no one even had the thought of anger or mutiny.
No, the man standing up was truly a fearsome man. It was as if he thought no one actually existed beside him. He truly had no regrets or sympathy for his soldiers, for the enemy’s soldiers, the women and children of the looted cities, the king of Spain across the Atlantic Ocean. It was as if he thought he was a god.
“What the hell are we doing here?! Why are we simply rotting away, letting the god damn bugs devour us? If we are going to just sit around, the Viceroy could have the decency to let us sit around in the city.”
“I’m sorry sir, but the Viceroy wanted you and your men to be ready to go at any moment. I was sent here to tell you that the Viceroy wants you to go east, not west, and conquer the local city states.”
“Excellent then” said the conquistador as he rose. He didn’t care who he was fighting, as long as he could get out of this god forsaken heat and into a city.
“Men, WE GO OFF TO CONQUEST!” the fearsome general boomed. And the men responded with a huge war cry as they were drilled to do so many times.
As Hernán was expanding westward, Diego looked eastwards. So far, if a war with the Aztecs were to be fought, it would put the Spanish in an awkward position to decimate them. They would have to wind around their allies, and cross the mountains, and expose themselves to unknown tribes.
Diego sent his personal guard out to assist Hernán and to repel any surprise invasions by the Aztecs. There were no threats on the island, and being allied with a neighbor’s enemies wasn’t exactly a politically friendly move.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to establish some sort of relations with the Aztecs, even if Diego may attack them later.
The trade agreement was arranged successfuly, and Diego was glad that he could please the king. Even if he was essentially a king of his own, far aways from the armies of Spain, without the king’s support there Diego would be stranded, the men will conspire against him, and the campaign would collapse on itself.
While the reinforcements were nearing Hernán.
The conquistadors Diego received from the king were sent to lead new recruits down southward, where there seemed to be only independent villages and city states, easy to take with little risk.
Diego leaned back in his chair. He would conquer the entirety of the New World from his headquarters in Cuba.
Hernán wasn't sure if the inhabitants were finally cominb out due to starvation, or because of the unbearable stench. Whatever putrid human corpses and wastes were in the city, were being eaten away by the sun's inescapable rays.
The gates began to open and the horde of natives began to pour out, screaming their war cries as they ran.
"Remember men, keep your head. Brute strength and numbers are no match, for Spain's fine soldiers."
The enemy were coming.
Hernán was dissapointed as he walked through the empty and ruined streets. There were barely any gold to loot and distribute.
Sighing, he looked to his officers.
"Get the men some rest, and then prepare to move out. There's nothing here."
