The ill omens of the past months gave the festival a desperate, ardent intensity, for it was through the favour of Tezcatlipoca that our empire had been created; by his grace that Montezuma sat aloft as lord of the world. But all knew that the god who had made Tenochtitlán great could as easily destroy it. As was the custom a handsome youth – unblemished and perfect – had been chosen to represent the deity, and for the whole of the past sacred year he had lived removed from the world as though divine. At the start of the festival he would be given four handmaidens – great beauties of the elite – who would share his life and warm his bed on his last days on earth. Carried about the city in a litter, he would have flowers strewn in his path and his glory would match that of the emperor himself. All would bow reverentially before him, and some would kiss the ground and implore him to intercede with the gods on their behalf. And on the fourth day, at the very peak of the celebrations, this splendid youth would mount the steps of the principal temple.
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