I had worded the letter to Pactli in such a way as to assure that he could not arrive unobserved. But I had no idea how or why the old vagabond had come instead of Pactli, and it did not seem the time to ask. Besides, I could not stop laughing.
“Disloyal! Unforgivable! Despicable!” the girl was crying, over my guffaws, and Pitza was trying to fade into the nearest draperies, and the cacao man was waving my fawnskin letter and saying, “But that is your own signature, is it not, my lady?”
She broke off her vilification of me to snarl at him, “Yes! But can even you believe it was addressed to a miserable, half-naked beggar? Now shut your toothless mouth!” She whirled back to me. “It has to be a joke, since it convulses you so. Confess to it and you will merely be beaten raw. Keep on laughing like that and I swear—”
“And of course, my lady,” the man persisted, “I recognize in the body of the letter the picture writing of my old friend Mole here.”
“I said be silent! When the flower garland is around your throat, you will dearly regret every breath you have wasted. And his name is Fetch!”
“Is it, now? It fits.” His slitted eyes slid to me, and the way they glittered was not at all friendly. My laughter subsided. “But the letter clearly says, my lady, for me to be here at this hour, and wearing this ring, and—”
“Not wearing the ring!” she shrieked, most imprudently. “You sneaking old pretender, you even pretend to read. The ring was to be carried concealed! And you must have flourished it through all Texcóco … yya ayya! She ground her teeth, and swung again to me. “Do you realize what your joke may have caused, you unspeakable lout? Yya ouiya, but you will die in the slowest of agonies!”
“How is it a joke, my lady?” the bent man asked. “According to this invitation, you must have been expecting someone. And you came running so joyfully to greet me—”
“You! To greet you?” screamed the girl, throwing out her arms as if she were physically throwing away all caution. “Would the cheapest, hungriest waterfront whore in Texcóco lie with you?” Once more she turned on me. “Fetch! Why did you do this?”
“My lady,” I said, speaking for the first time, and speaking the hard words gently. “I have often thought your Lord Husband did not sufficiently weigh his words, when he commanded me to serve the Lady Jadestone Doll, and to serve her without question. But I was bound to obey. As you once pointed out to me, my lady, I could not myself betray your wickedness without disobeying both you and him. I had to trick you, finally, into betraying yourself.”
She took a step back from me, and her mouth worked soundlessly, while her angrily flushed face began to pale again. The words took a while to come. “You—tricked me? This—this is no joke?”
“Not his joke, at any rate, but mine,” said the hunched man. “I was at the lakeside when a well-dressed and oiled and perfumed young lord debarked from your private acáli, my lady, and boldly made his way hither, with this ring highly visible and recognizable upon the little finger of his big hand. It seemed a flagrant indiscretion, if not a transgression. I summoned guards to relieve him of the ring, and then of the letter he carried. I brought the things in his stead.”
“You—you—by what authority—how dare you meddle?” she spluttered. “Fetch! This man is a confessed thief. Kill him! I order you to kill this man, here and now, that I may see.”
“No, my lady,” I said, still gently, for I was almost beginning to feel sorry for her. “This one time I disobey. I think you have at last revealed your true self to another observer. I think I am released from all bonds of obedience. I think you will kill no more.”
She spun swiftly and yanked open the door to the corridor. Perhaps she meant to flee, but when the sentinel outside turned to face her, blocking the doorway, she said sharply, “Guard, I have here one thief and one traitor. That beggar, see, he is wearing my stolen ring. And this commoner has disobeyed my direct command. I want you to take them both and—”
“Your pardon, my lady,” the guard rumbled. “I already have my orders from the Uey-Tlatoáni. Different orders.”
Her mouth fell open.
I said, “Guard, lend me your spear for one moment.”
He hesitated, then handed it to me. I stepped to the nearby alcove housing the statue of the gardener Xali-Otli and, with all my strength, drove the spear point under the thing’s chin. The painted head broke off, it hit the floor and rolled, its baked clay shattering and crumbling. When the head bounced to a stop against a far wall, it was a bare, white, gleaming skull, the cleanest and most honest face of man. The brown beggar watched its progress without expression. But the immense pupils of Jadestone Doll’s eyes seemed now to have engulfed her eyes entirely. They were liquid black pools of terror. I gave the spear back to the guard and asked, “What are your orders, then?”
“You and your slave boy are to remain in your apartment. The lady queen and her serving women are to stay in this one. You will all remain under guard while your chambers are searched, and until further orders come from the Revered Speaker.”
I said to the cacao man, “Will you join me in my captivity for a while, venerable one, to take a cup of chocolate perhaps?”
“No,” he said, wrenching his gaze away from the exposed skull. “I am bidden to report on this night’s events. I think the Lord Nezahualpíli will now command a more extensive search—of the sculpture studios and other places.”
I made the gesture of kissing the earth. “Then I bid you good night, old man, my lady.” She stared at me, but I do not think she saw me.
I returned to my own chambers to find them being ransacked by the Lord Strong Bone and some others of the Revered Speaker’s confidential aides. They had already discovered my drawings of Jadestone Doll and Something Delicate in embrace.
You say you attend today’s sitting, my Lord Bishop, because you are interested in hearing how our judicial processes were conducted. But it is hardly necessary for me to describe the trial of Jadestone Doll. Your Excellency will find it minutely set forth in the archives of the Texcóco court, if you will trouble to examine those books. Your Excellency will also find it in the written histories of other lands, and even in the folktales of the common people, for the scandal is still remembered and related, especially by our women.
Nezahualpíli invited to the trial the rulers of every neighboring nation, and all their tlamatíntin wise men, and all their tecútlin of every least province. He even invited them to bring their wives and court ladies. He did it partly to make public demonstration that not even the highest-born of women could sin with impunity. But there was another reason. The accused was the daughter of the most powerful ruler in The One World, the ill-tempered and bellicose Revered Speaker Ahuítzotl of the Mexíca. By inviting him and every other nation’s highest officials, Nezahualpíli sought also to demonstrate that the proceedings were conducted in absolute fairness. It was for that same reason that Nezahualpíli sat to one side during the trial. He delegated the questioning of defendants and witnesses to two disinterested parties: his Snake Woman, the Lord Strong Bone, and a tlamatíni judge named Tepítzic.
Texcóco’s hall of justice was crowded to capacity. It may have been the greatest gathering of rulers—friendly, neutral, inimical—until then convened in one place. Ahuítzotl only was absent. He could not expose himself to the disgrace of being ogled and pitied and derided while his own daughter’s shame was inexorably revealed. In his stead, he sent the Snake Woman of Tenochtítlan. Among the many other lords who did attend, however, was the governor of Xaltócan, Pactli’s father, Red Heron. He sat and endured his humiliation, head bowed, throughout the entire trial. The few times he raised his sad and bleared old eyes, they fixed on me. I think he was remembering a remark he had made long ago, when he had commented on my childhood ambitions: “Whatever occupation you do undertake, young man, you ought to do it well.”
The interrogation of all persons involved was lengthy and detailed and tedious and often repetitive. I recall only the more
pertinent questions and replies to recount to Your Excellency. The two foremost of the accused were, of course, Jadestone Doll and Lord Joy. He was called first, and came pale and quaking to take the oath. Among the many other words put to him by the examiners were these:
“You were seized by the palace guards, Páctlitzin, on the grounds of that wing of the palace allotted to the royal lady Chálchiunénetzin. It is a capital offense for any unauthorized male to enter, for any reason or on any pretext, the premises reserved for the ladies of the court. You were aware of that?”
He gulped loudly and said feebly, “Yes,” and sealed his doom.
Jadestone Doll was next called and, among the numberless questions put to her, one elicited a reply that made the audience gasp. The judge Tepítzic spoke:
“You have admitted, my lady, that it was the workers in your private kitchen who slew your lovers and prepared their skeletons for the process of preservation. We think that not even the most debased of slaves could have done such work except under extreme duress. What was the persuasion you applied?”
In the meek voice of a little girl, she said, “For a long time previous, I posted my guards in the kitchen to see that the workers got no food at all, that they did not even taste what they cooked for me. I starved them until they agreed to—do what I commanded. When they had done it once, and thereby had been full fed, they required no more persuasion or threats or watching guards….”
The rest of her words were lost in the general commotion. My little slave Cozcatl was retching, and had to be taken outside the hall for a while. I knew how he felt, and my own stomach wobbled slightly. Our meals had come from that same kitchen.
As Jadestone Doll’s chief accomplice, I was called next. I gave a complete account of my activities on her behalf, omitting nothing. When I came to the part about Something Delicate, I was interrupted by another uproar in the hall. The deranged widower of that woman had to be restrained by guards from rushing forward to throttle me, and he was carried out, shrieking and flailing and spraying spittle. When I came to the end of my account, the Lord Strong Bone eyed me with open contempt and said:
“A frank confession, at least. Have you anything to say in mitigation or defense?”
I said, “Nothing, my lord.”
At which another voice was heard. “If the scribe Dark Cloud declines to defend himself,” said Nezahualpíli, “may I, my lord justices, speak some extenuating words?” The two examiners gave reluctant permission, obviously not wanting to hear me exculpated, but not able to refuse their Uey-Tlatoáni.
Nezahualpíli said, “Throughout his attendance on the Lady Jadestone Doll, this young man was acting, however injudiciously, upon my express orders that he serve the lady without question and obey her every command. I submit that my own orders were badly expressed. It has also been shown that Dark Cloud finally seized upon the only means possible to divulge the truth about the adulterous and murderous lady. If he had not, my lord justices, we might have been trying her for the slaying of many more victims.”
The judge Tepítzic grumbled, “Our Lord Nezahualpíli’s words will be taken into account in our deliberations.” He leveled his stern gaze on me again. “I have just one further question to ask the defendant. Did you, Tliléctic-Mixtli, ever lie with the Lady Jadestone Doll?”
I said, “No, my lord.”
Evidently hoping they had caught me in a damning lie, the examiners called my slave Cozcatl and asked him, “Did your master ever have sexual relations with the Lady Jadestone Doll?”
He said, in a piping voice, “No, my lords.”
Tepítzic persisted, “But he had every opportunity.”
Cozcatl said stubbornly, “No, my lords. Whenever my master was in the lady’s company for any length of time, I was always in attendance. Not my master and not any other man of the court ever lay with the lady, except one. That was during my master’s absence on holiday, and one night the lady was unable to secure a partner from outside.”
The judges leaned forward. “Some man of the palace? Who?”
Cozcatl said, “Me,” and the judges rocked back again.
“You?” said Strong Bone. “How old are you, slave?”
“I have just turned eleven years, my lord.”
“Speak more loudly, boy. Do you mean to tell us that you served the accused adulteress as a sexual partner? That you actually coupled with her? That you have a tepúli capable of—?”
“My tepúli?” squeaked Cozcatl, shocked to the impertinence of interrupting the judge. “My lords, that member is for making water with! I served my lady, as she bade me, with my mouth. I would never touch a noblewoman with something as nasty as a tepúli. …”
If he said anything else, it was drowned out by the roar of laughter from the spectators. Even the two judges had to struggle to keep their faces impassive. It was the only mirthful moment of relief in that grim day.
Tlatli was one of the last accomplices called. I have forgotten to mention that, on the night Nezahualpíli’s guards raided the studio, Chimáli was absent on some errand. There had then been no cause for Nezahualpíli or his aides to suspect the existence of another artist. Apparently no other of those accused had subsequently thought to mention Chimáli, and apparently Tlatli had since been able to pretend that he had worked alone.
Strong Bone said, “Chicuáce-Cali Ixtac-Tlatli, you admit that certain of the statues introduced in evidence were of your making.”
“Yes, my lords,” he said firmly. “I could hardly deny it. You see upon them my signature mark: the incised symbol of a falcon’s head and beneath it the slap of my bloodied hand.” His eyes sought mine and beseeched silence, as if saying, “Spare my woman,” and I kept silent.
Eventually the two examiners retired to a private chamber for their deliberations. Everyone else in the hall of justice thankfully debouched from the big but now stuffy room to enjoy a breath of fresh air or to smoke a poquíetl in the gardens outside. We defendants remained, each with an armed guard standing alert at our side, and we carefully avoided meeting each other’s eyes.
It was not long before the judges returned and the hall refilled. The Snake Woman, Lord Strong Bone, made the routine prefatory announcement: “We, the examiners, have deliberated solely upon the evidence and testimony presented here, and have come to our decisions without malice or favor, without the intervention of any other persons, with the assistance only of Tónantzin, the gentle goddess of law and mercy and justice.”
He produced a sheet of the finest paper and, referring to it, pronounced first, “We find that the accused scribe, Chicóme-Xochitl Tliléctic-Mixtli, merits acquittal in that his actions, however culpable, were not ill intentioned, and furthermore were expiated by his bringing others to account. However …” Strong Bone threw a glance at the Revered Speaker, then glared at me. “We recommend that the acquitted one be banished from this realm as an alien who has abused its hospitality.”
Well, I will not say I was pleased at that. But Nezahualpíli could easily have let the judges deal with me as severely as they dealt with the others. The Snake Woman again referred to the paper and pronounced, “The following persons we find guilty of the several crimes with which they stand charged; actions heinous, perfidious, and detestable in the sight of the gods.” He read the list of names: the Lord Joy, the Lady Jadestone Doll, the sculptors Pixquitl and Tlatli, my slave Cozcatl, two guards who had alternated night duty on the palace’s eastern gate, Jadestone Doll’s maid Pitza and numerous other servants, all the cooks and workers of her kitchen. The judge concluded his drone, “Regarding these persons found guilty, we make no recommendations, either of severity or lenity, and their sentences will be pronounced by the Revered Speaker.”
Nezahualpíli got slowly to his feet. He stood in deep study for a moment, then said, “As my lords recommend, the scribe Dark Cloud will be banished from Texcóco and all the domains of the Acólhua. The convicted slave, Cozcatl, I here pardon in consideration of his tender years, but he wil
l likewise be exiled from these lands. The nobles Páctlitzin and Chálchiunénetzin will be executed in private, and I shall leave their mode of execution to be determined by the noble ladies of the Texcóco court. All others found guilty by the lord justices are sentenced to be publicly executed by means of the icpacxóchitl, with no recourse to Tlazoltéotl beforehand. Their dead bodies, together with the remains of their victims, will be burned in a common pyre.”
I rejoiced that little Cozcatl had been spared, but I felt sympathy for the other slaves and commoners. The icpacxóchitl was the flower-enlaced garrotting cord, which was bad enough. But Nezahualpíli had also denied them the solace of confessing to a priest of Tlazoltéotl. It meant that their sins would not be swallowed by the goddess Filth Eater—and, since they would then be cremated together with their victims, they would bear their guilt all the way to whichever afterworld they went to, and they would continue to suffer unbearable remorse throughout eternity.
Cozcatl and I were escorted by our guards back to my chambers, and there one of the guards growled, “What is this?” On the outside of my apartment door, at the height of my head, was a sign—the slapped print of a bloody hand—silent reminder that I was not the only culprit who had escaped alive that day, a stark warning that Chimáli did not intend to let his own bereavement go unavenged.
“Some tasteless prankster,” I said, shrugging it off. “I will have my slave wash it clean.”
Cozcatl took a sponge and a jar of water into the corridor while I waited, listening, just inside the door. It was not long before I heard Jadestone Doll being also returned to custody. I could not distinguish the sound of her tiny feet among the heavier tread of her escort, but when Cozcatl reentered with his jar of reddened water, he said:
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