by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST COMBAT.
The 'tzin's companion the night of the banquet, as the reader has nodoubt anticipated, was Hualpa, the Tihuancan. To an adventure of his,more luckless than his friend's, I now turn.
It will be remembered that the 'tzin left him at the door of the greathall. In a strange scene, without a guide, it was natural for him to beill at ease; light-hearted and fearless, however, he strolled leisurelyabout, at one place stopping to hear a minstrel, at another to observe adance, and all the time half confused by the maze and splendor of all hebeheld. In such awe stood he of the monarch, that he gave the throne awide margin, contented from a distance to view the accustomedinterchanges of courtesy between the guests and their master. Finding,at last, that he could not break through the bashfulness acquired in hissolitary life among the hills, and imitate the ease and nonchalance ofthose born, as it were, to the lordliness of the hour, he left thehouse, and once more sought the retiracy of the gardens. Out of doors,beneath the stars, with the fresh air in his nostrils, he felt at homeagain, the whilom hunter, ready for any emprise.
As to the walk he should follow he had no choice, for in every directionhe heard laughter, music, and conversation; everywhere were flowers andthe glow of lamps. Merest chance put him in a path that led to theneighborhood of the museum.
Since the night shut in,--be it said in a whisper,--a memory ofwonderful brightness had taken possession of his mind. Nenetzin's face,as he saw it laughing in the door of the kiosk when Yeteve called the'tzin for a song, he thought outshone the lamplight, the flowers, andeverything most beautiful about his path; her eyes were as stars,rivalling the insensate ones in the mead above him. He remembered them,too, as all the brighter for the tears through which they had lookeddown,--alas! not on him, but upon his reverend comrade. If Hualpa wasnot in love, he was, at least, borrowing wings for a flight of thatkind.
Indulging the delicious revery, he came upon some nobles, conversing,and quite blocking up the way, though going in his direction. Hehesitated; but, considering that, as a guest, the freedom of the gardenbelonged equally to him, he proceeded, and became a listener.
"People call him a warrior. They know nothing of what makes a warrior;they mistake good fortune, or what the traders in the _tianguez_ callluck, for skill. Take his conduct at the combat of Quetzal' as anexample; say he threw his arrows well: yet it was a cowardly war. Howmuch braver to grasp the _maquahuitl_, and rush to blows! That requiresmanhood, strength, skill. To stand back, and kill with a chancearrow,--a woman could do as much."
The 'tzin was the subject of discussion, and the voice that of Iztlil',the Tezcucan. Hualpa moved closer to the party.
"I thought his course in that combat good," said a stranger; "it gavehim opportunities not otherwise to be had. That he did not join theassault cannot be urged against his courage. Had you, my lord Iztlil',fallen like the Otompan, he would have been left alone to fight thechallengers. A fool would have seen the risk; a coward would not havecourted it."
"That argument," replied Iztlil', "is crediting him with too muchshrewdness. By the gods, he never doubted the result,--not he! He knewthe Tlascalans would never pass my shield; he knew the victory was mine,two against me as there were. A prince of Tezcuco was never conquered!"
The spirit of the hunter was fast rising; yet he followed, listening.
"And, my friends," the Tezcucan continued, "who better judged theconduct of the combatants that day than the king? See the result.To-night I take from the faint heart his bride, the woman he has lovedfrom boyhood. Then this banquet. In whose honor is it? What does itcelebrate? There is a prize to be awarded,--the prize of courage andskill; and who gets it? And further, of the nobles and chiefs of thevalley, but one is absent,--he whose prudence exceeds his valor."
In such strain the Tezcucan proceeded. And Hualpa, fully aroused, pushedthrough the company to the speaker, but so quietly that those whoobserved him asked no questions. Assured that the 'tzin must havefriends present, he waited for some one to take up his cause. His ownimpulse was restrained by his great dread of the king, whose gardens heknew were not fighting-grounds at any time or in any quarrel. But, asthe boastful prince continued, the resolve to punish him took definiteform with the Tihuancan,--to such degree had his admiration for the'tzin already risen! Gradually the auditors dropped behind ordisappeared; finally but one remained,--a middle-aged, portly noble,whose demeanor was not of the kind to shake the resolution taken.
Hualpa made his first advance close by the eastern gate of the garden,to which point he held himself in check lest the want of arms shouldprove an apology for refusing the fight.
"Will the lord Iztlil' stop?" he said, laying his hand on the Tezcucan'sarm.
"I do not know you," was the answer.
The sleek courtier also stopped, and stared broadly.
"You do not know me! I will mend my fortune in that respect," returnedthe hunter, mildly. "I have heard what you said so ungraciouslyof my friend and comrade,"--the last word he emphasizedstrongly,--"Guatamozin." Then he repeated the offensive words ascorrectly as if he had been a practised herald, and concluded, "Now, youknow the 'tzin cannot be here to-night; you also know the reason; but,for him and in his place, I say, prince though you are, you have baselyslandered an absent enemy."
"Who are you?" asked the Tezcucan, surprised.
"The comrade of Guatamozin, here to take up his quarrel."
"You challenge me?" said Iztlil', in disdain.
"Does a prince of Tezcuco, son of 'Hualpilli, require a blow? Take itthen."
The blow was given.
"See! Do I not bring you princely blood?" And, in his turn, Hualpalaughed scornfully.
The Tezcucan was almost choked with rage. "This to me,--to me,--a princeand warrior!" he cried.
A danger not considered by the rash hunter now offered itself. An outcrywould bring down the guard; and, in the event of his arrest, the unitedrepresentations of Iztlil' and his friend would be sufficient to havehim sent forthwith to the tigers. The pride of the prince saved him.
"Have a care,--'tis an assassin! I will call the guard at the gate!"said the courtier, alarmed.
"Call them not, call them not! I am equal to my own revenge. O, for aspear or knife,--anything to kill!"
"Will you hear me,--a word?" the hunter said. "I am without arms also;but they can be had."
"The arms, the arms!" cried Iztlil', passionately.
"We can make the sentinels at the gate clever by a few quills of gold;and here are enough to satisfy them." Hualpa produced a handful of themoney. "Let us try them. Outside the gate the street is clear."
The courtier protested, but the prince was determined.
"The arms! Pledge my province and palaces,--everything for a_maquahuitl_ now."
They went to the gate and obtained the use of two of the weapons and asmany shields. Then the party passed into the street, which they founddeserted. To avoid the great thoroughfare to Iztapalapan, they turned tothe north, and kept on as far as the corner of the garden wall.
"Stay we here," said the courtier. "Short time is all you want, lordIztlil'. The feathers on the hawk's wings are not full-fledged."
The man spoke confidently; and it must be confessed that the Tezcucan'sreputation and experience justified the assurance. One advantage thehunter had which his enemies both overlooked,--a surpassing composure.From a temple near by a red light flared broadly over the place,redeeming it from what would otherwise have been vague starlight; by itsaid they might have seen his countenance without a trace of excitementor passion. One wish, and but one, he had,--that Guatamozin couldwitness the trial.
The impatience of the Tezcucan permitted but few preliminaries.
"The gods of Mictlan require no prayers. Stand out!" he said.
"Strike!" answered Hualpa.
Up rose the glassy blades of the Tezcucan, flashing in the light; quickand strong the blow, yet it clove but
the empty air. "For the 'tzin!"shouted the hunter, striking back before the other was half recovered.The shield was dashed aside; a groan acknowledged a wound in the breast,and Iztlil' staggered; another blow stretched him on the pavement. Astream of blood, black in the night, stole slowly out over the flags.The fight was over. The victor dropped the bladed end of his weapon, andsurveyed his foe, with astonishment, then pity.
"Your friend is hurt; help him!" he said, turning to the courtier; buthe was alone,--the craven had run. For one fresh from the hills, thiswas indeed a dilemma! A duel and a death in sight of the royal palace! Achill tingled through his veins. He thought rapidly of the alarm, thearrest, the king's wrath, and himself given to glut the monsters in themenagerie. Up rose, also, the many fastnesses amid the cedared glades ofTihuanco. Could he but reach them! The slaves of Montezuma, to please awhim, might pursue and capture a quail or an eagle; but there he couldlaugh at pursuit, while in Tenochtitlan he was nowhere safe.
Sight of the flowing blood brought him out of the panic. He raised theTezcucan's arm, and tore the rich vestments from his breast. The woundwas a glancing one; it might not be fatal after all; to save him wereworth the trial. Taking off his own _maxtlatl_, he wound it tightlyround the body and over the cut. Across the street there was a small,open house; lifting the wounded man gently as possible, he carried himthither, and laid him in a darkened passage. Where else to convey him heknew not; that was all he could do. Now for flight,--for Tihuanco.Tireless and swift of foot shall they be who catch him on the way!
He started for the lake, intending to cross in a canoe rather than bythe causeway; already a square was put behind, when it occurred to himthat the Tezcucan might have slaves and a palanquin waiting before thepalace door. He began, also, to reproach himself for the baseness of thedesertion. How would the 'tzin have acted? When the same Tezcucan laywith the dead in the arena, who nursed him back to life?
If Hualpa had wished his patron's presence at the beginning of thecombat, now, flying from imaginary dangers,--flying, like a startledcoward, from his very victory,--much did he thank the gods that he wasalone and unseen. In a kind of alcove, or resting-place for wearywalkers, with which, by the way, the thoroughfares of Tenochtitlan werewell provided, he sat down, recalled his wonted courage, and determinedon a course more manly, whatever the risk.
Then he retraced his steps, and went boldly to the portal of the palace,where he found the Tezcucan's palanquin. The slaves in charge followedhim without objection.
"Take your master to his own palace. Be quick!" he said to them, whenthe wounded man was transferred to the carriage.
"It is in Tecuba," said one of them.
"To Tecuba then."
He did more; he accompanied the slaves. Along the street, across thecauseway, which never seemed of such weary length, they proceeded. Onthe road the Tezcucan revived. He said little, and was passive in hisenemy's hands. From Tecuba the latter hastened back to Tenochtitlan, andreached the portico of Xoli, the Chalcan, just as day broke over thevalley.
And such was the hunter's first emprise as a warrior.