After their lessons and the necessary bloodletting, Acatl always bandaged his wounds. It wasn’t necessary--he was a warrior, he knew his way around the results of sharp knives on thin skin--but Acatl insisted, and he...well. Sometimes it was nice to be taken care of, to have Acatl gently press herb poultices on his cuts and wrap the wounds so that all he had to do was occasionally hold a knot in place while his teacher tied it off. And it let them talk--about what Teomitl had just learned, and about other things.

Today it was one of the ‘other things.’ “You never even played ball in the calmecac? Really?”

Acatl snorted and sponged away a bit more blood. “Peasant’s son, remember? They would never have let me.”

He made a face. True, the game could be rough, and he hated the idea of Acatl risking himself, but it was also fun. Acatl deserved fun in his life. “There’s going to be a small match next week--my cousins are setting it up. You should come watch!” Then he thought he’d probably been a bit too eager, and added, “If you’re free.”

“Will you be playing?”

He hadn’t planned on it, but...he flexed his injured arm. Yes, it would be healed by then, and he’d be able to put on a proper showing. He nodded. “Mm.”

Acatl smiled at him. “Then I’ll come.”