EQMM, September-October 2008

by Dell Magazine Authors

  Lion avoided looking at the girl clinging to his arm. Glancing over the householder's shoulder, he saw a small, stooped figure in a skirt and blouse emerge from indoors, carrying what looked like a cup. She shuffled towards the fire. None of the people seated around it moved, but she stepped diffidently between them before bending over the pot to dip the cup in it.

  Lion gave a warning cough as she came over to the entrance, but nobody took any notice.

  "Once they start answering you back, you know you're in trouble,” the man went on. “And then you find things aren't getting done. The household gods get dusty, the courtyard's not swept, the turkeys aren't fed, and they start breaking things, and the food's not cooked properly—I have trouble keeping the stuff she prepares down sometimes!"

  Lion was not sure whether “they” meant wives or turkeys, although in the householder's view there did not seem to be much difference; but Hummingbird Feather seemed impressed. “Not to worry, sir. It sounds as if you have enough troubles, and we wouldn't want to bother you. We'll have our fill of porridge tonight anyway.” He turned away with an abrupt air of decision that defied anyone else to stay and insist on receiving their gift.

  The small woman had reached the doorway. “Husband,” she whispered, “I found a cup."

  "About time, too.” He did not look at her but stretched out a hand to take it.

  It never reached his lips, however.

  Flower Necklace had been casting venomous glances at Hummingbird Feather's back. Before Lion knew what she was doing, she suddenly detached herself from his side, stepped forward, snatched the cup from the householder's hands, and tossed off the contents in one gulp. Then she pressed it back between the astonished man's limp fingers, before turning and flashing a triumphant smile at her friends.

  "There! We've got what we came for here, too!” she cried.

  * * * *

  "What did you do that for?"

  The singing and dancing were over. There was little to do but drift aimlessly from one house to the next, and the rest had gone on ahead, leaving Lion and Flower Necklace alone.

  "I wanted to show up Hummingbird Feather and that beast back there!” The girl tossed her head, letting her long, loose hair fly about her neck. “And besides,” she added, touching his arm, “I thought you'd be pleased."

  "I'll be pleased when the sun rises and we can stop playing this silly game,” Lion said morosely. Hummingbird Feather had taken his torch around a corner and its light was just a slight lifting of the gloom at the end of the street. Lion was beginning to feel the night and its attendant terrors closing in on him. All Aztecs were superstitious, and brave warriors were usually among the worst.

  She lowered her voice. “Well, there are other games we can play, if you like."

  The young man put his hand to his forehead. He took a deep breath. “Look, Flower Necklace..."

  He never finished what he was going to say, however, as that was the moment when all his fears were realised.

  If the attack had come along the street, Lion might have been able to meet it. He was used to seeing an enemy rushing at him, sword or spear upraised, mouth wide open in a scream of murderous rage. At the sound of pounding feet on the hard earth behind him, he might have done what he afterwards told himself he should have done: whirled around, seizing the only weapons he had to hand—the maize stalk and the porridge jar—and thrown himself between Flower Necklace and the threat, his own war cry bursting from his lips.

  But neither his training nor his experience had prepared him to meet an assailant that dropped on him from the sky.

  The first either Lion or Flower Necklace knew of the assault was an inhuman shriek that made them both leap up in fright. For a moment Lion stood, bewildered, head snapping back and forth as he tried to place the sound. It came again, from very close, and then Flower Necklace screamed in turn.

  "Lion! Look up!"

  Half the sky was hidden by the wall of the house they stood next to. Looming out over the other half, clearly discernible against the stars, was a shape that may have been human.

  The scream came again: a quivering, inarticulate, piercing yell. It had not come from a man's throat. Only a woman or a demon could have made a sound like that.

  The jar fell and shattered. Lion saw the shape above him move, and then he lost his head. Forgetting Flower Necklace and his warrior's dignity, he threw his maize stave aside and fled.

  The torchlight had vanished by now, but he ran blindly towards the corner where he had last seen it. When he got there, he skidded to a halt so hard he scraped skin from his bare heel, and stared wildly into the darkness ahead of him. There was still no sign of the rest of the party, however.

  "Hummingbird Feather! Wait!"

  The cry came again. It was a little farther off now, but Lion had had more than he could take. He set off running again, and did not stop until his breath failed him and he crumpled in exhaustion.

  * * * *

  It was not until the following afternoon that the shamefaced young warrior finally made his way home. His mother and father watched him in silence as he limped through the doorway into their courtyard. He said nothing, only wanting to crawl indoors onto his sleeping mat and forget everything that had happened in the night. However, he could not, because between him and the doorway stood Fire Serpent, the Master of Young Men. His arms were folded beneath the black-and-ochre mantle of a veteran warrior. As he eyed Lion's torn, filthy clothes and drawn features, his expression was grim.

  He spoke two words softly. “Flower Necklace."

  Lion's jaw dropped. “Flower Necklace?” he repeated hoarsely. “What about her?"

  "Where is she?"

  Lion stared at him. He looked over his shoulder at his parents, but they might as well have been a couple of statues. Turning back to Fire Serpent, he stammered: “I thought she'd run away too. I—I'm sorry. It was the shock. I thought it was a demon, or a sorcerer —coming at me from up there, in the dark—look, I'm a warrior, not ... Oh.” His eyes widened in horror. In a small voice he continued: “The demon got her?"

  "What demon?” Fire Serpent demanded.

  "Nobody's said anything about a demon, Mountain Lion,” his father said.

  "I should have stayed with her,” Lion whispered.

  "You have no business staying with her, lad,” Fire Serpent retorted. “I've warned you before about trying to keep a pleasure girl to yourself. You're lucky I got to hear about this in time to try to talk some sense into you. You know what will happen to you both if the authorities find out what you've been up to? The warriors will expel you and singe the warrior lock off your head, and she'll be thrown out of the pleasure house with nothing but the clothes she stands up in."

  Lion's mother added: “If you tell us where she is, son, then no harm's done, but you have to let her go back to the pleasure house. Please!"

  The young man looked from one to the other of them in confusion. “But I haven't..."

  Fire Serpent sighed. “I'm on your side, Lion. I was young once, after all! But this has to stop. I can cover for you until tonight, but if she's not back at the pleasure house by then, I'm afraid you're on your own!"

  * * * *

  Hummingbird Feather woke up quickly, rolling off his sleeping mat and twisting his body so that Lion's second kick caught his hip instead of the soft flesh of his side.

  "Get up!"

  He was on his hands and knees by now, ready to spring to his feet. “What's going on? Lion? What are you doing?"

  Lion lashed out again, but the other young man dodged and seized his ankle. Lion had anticipated the move, however. Throwing his whole weight onto his free foot, he lurched backwards, dragging Hummingbird Feather with him and leaving him sprawled facedown on the floor.

  Lion leapt forward again, dropping onto the other young warrior's shoulders and pinning him to the ground. The breath whooshed out of his victim.

  "What did you do with her, you bastard?"

  Hummingbird Feath
er groaned. “What are you talking about?"

  "You know what I'm talking about! Flower Necklace—where is she?"

  "The last I saw of her, she was with you! Ow!” The last syllable was jerked from his lips as Lion grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked hard.

  "Do you think I'm stupid? You wanted to get back at us for what happened at that first house, didn't you? And then the stupid girl grabbed that cup from the woman and made you look even smaller. So who was on the roof? That girl you were with? Did you put her up to it?"

  "Roof? What roof? Have you gone mad—Lion, stop! You'll tear my scalp off!"

  "And to think I was convinced I'd seen a sorcerer or a demon. You must have thought I was a simpleton!"

  Hummingbird Feather talked fast. “You've got to believe me. We lost sight of you two just after we'd called at that second house. We'd all pretty much given up on the dance, so we just took the girls back to the pleasure house. Flower Necklace wasn't with us—the women there all thought she must be with you, they assumed the two of you had hidden yourselves away somewhere private. Just go there and ask anybody if you don't believe me! I don't know anything about demons and sorcerers!"

  Lion relaxed his grip on the other man's hair. “But if I believe you..."

  "Are you going to let me up?"

  After a moment's reflection the young warrior released his friend. Hummingbird Feather eased himself into a squatting position and eyed Lion warily. “Why don't you tell me what happened, then?"

  He pursed his lips as he listened to the story.

  "If it really was a demon, then there's no telling what's happened to the girl, is there? She's probably been eaten. I don't suppose they'll even find a body!"

  "Hummingbird Feather, please! Can't you think of anything? I've got until nightfall to find her, otherwise I'm a dead man—or I might as well be!"

  A grin had spread over the other man's features as he witnessed Lion's discomfiture, but it faded as he saw the genuine terror on his face. “Well, if it's really a demon or a sorcerer that got her, why don't you get another sorcerer to help you find her? Or maybe a priest?"

  Lion shivered, his fear of magic reasserting itself. “Where would I find one of those? Could I trust him? Hummingbird Feather—What is it? What have you thought of?” The last words came out in an eager rush as he caught the sudden lightening of his friend's expression.

  "I've just remembered—your brother's a priest."

  Lion turned pale.

  "Oh, no. No, I am not asking Yaotl to do me a favour. I'd rather die!"

  * * * *

  "Well?” Lion demanded anxiously. “Can you help?"

  Yaotl had punctuated his brother's tale with a commentary of derisive snorts, short barks of laughter, and mocking grins. Nonetheless he had listened, if only so that he could enjoy Lion's misfortune to the full.

  Telpoch looked at Yaotl. “Don't you think we ought to help? After all, if there is a demon loose in the city..."

  "You don't go looking for demons, Telpoch—especially during the day. They find you at night, if you're very unlucky. Our job is to drive them away—that's why we have to wander in the hills at night with censers and fir branches to burn. Besides, we have duties. Talking of which..."

  "No, we don't,” Telpoch reminded him. “It's a fast day. We're not expected to do any work today, and anyway, we can say we were at the market buying paper vestments for the offering priests. Why don't we go and look at where your brother saw this demon? Aren't you even curious?"

  "No!"

  But Yaotl was lying. He looked sideways at his brother and found himself wondering what had really happened. As much as he had always loathed him, he had never seen him show fear before.

  * * * *

  The two priests peered at the top of the wall. “I wonder how strong that roof is?” Telpoch said aloud.

  "Why, are demons heavy?"

  "Who knows? I've never tried picking one up!"

  Yaotl looked along the path towards where it vanished around the corner. “Hummingbird Feather was up ahead, then?"

  "He was out of sight, yes."

  "For how long?"

  "It must have been awhile. I couldn't see the torch when I started running. Not even after I rounded the corner."

  "Well, I don't suppose Hummingbird Feather had anything to do with this. It sounds like it would have required too much imagination for any warrior I've ever met! If he and his girlfriend had been close enough for her to get back here in time to give you your scare, then you'd have seen the torch."

  "Maybe he doused the flame,” Telpoch suggested.

  "Doubt it. He'd have had to find his way home afterwards, and I can't see him waking some householder in the middle of the night and asking if he can rekindle it on his hearth. But we could always ask at the pleasure house if it was alight when they got back there."

  Lion looked nervously at the lengthening shadows. “We haven't much time left."

  "You haven't much time left, you mean!” Yaotl laughed unkindly. “Shall I come and fetch you home after they've finished with you in the warrior house?"

  That was too much for Lion, who suddenly rounded on his brother, seizing him by the throat and shoving him hard against the wall. “Just remember this, you little creep,” he snarled. “After they throw me out, the first thing I'm going to do is come looking for you, and don't think your black robes and your face paint will protect you!” He tightened his grip and shook the younger man so violently that flakes of soot fell off his skin onto the path.

  As Yaotl gasped vainly for air, Telpoch tried to intervene. “Lion, this isn't helping! Yaotl, please—can't you try to think of something constructive?"

  The only response at first was a choking sound. Eventually, however, Lion left off throttling his brother, who fell to rubbing his throat and groaning. Then he eyed the warrior balefully.

  "You've got a funny way of persuading people to your point of view,” he mumbled resentfully. “But I did think of something, as it happens.” He pulled himself away from the wall and stepped warily past his brother.

  "Where are you going?” Lion demanded.

  "Back along your route last night. You'll have to show me where you went—and tell me exactly what happened at each house you called at."

  * * * *

  The three of them stood by the entrance to the big house where Flower Necklace had snatched the cupful of porridge.

  Yaotl peeped into the courtyard, observing the cold ashes where the fire had been, the idols, the sweat bath. There was nobody about.

  "Now, tell me again what happened, and don't leave anything out."

  "I've told you twice already!"

  "Do you want the girl found or not?"

  Lion sighed before going over the story once more. His brother frowned in what the young warrior suspected was mock concentration, but the frown deepened noticeably when he repeated the householder's words.

  "If Father came out with stuff like that about Mother, she'd make him pay for it!” Yaotl said.

  "She would.” It was one thing they could both agree on. “But that doesn't help me, does it?"

  Suddenly a grin formed on his brother's darkly stained features. Lion watched in horror as it grew broader. His fists clenched. “This isn't funny, Yaotl, and if you still think it is..."

  His brother chuckled. “Wrong on both counts, Brother—what our mother would do helps you a lot, and I've rarely known anything funnier! Wait here."

  With that, he stepped into the courtyard.

  He was gone some time.

  * * * *

  To look at Flower Necklace now, Yaotl thought, it was hard to see why she was one of the most popular girls in Mexico-Tenochtitlan. Her face was drawn and her eyes were heavy with fatigue, and under what was left of her makeup, her skin was the colour of ash. Every so often she would suddenly turn and retch into a clay bowl that had been left beside her for the purpose.

  The little woman, the householder's wife, fussed anxiously a
bout her, alternately adjusting her blanket and casting anxious glances at the black-robed priest in her doorway.

  "You say she's your sister?"

  "Um, yes, that's right. They told me she hadn't come home so I thought I ought to come and look for her."

  "She'll be all right, you know."

  "I'm sure she will,” he said neutrally. “It's just something she ate, I expect. We're very lucky you found her."

  "Will you take her home now? Only my husband's still out in the fields, and he wasn't very happy about my taking her in. He didn't think I should go out there at night at all, but I had to get my cup back!"

  "Quite."

  "So, anyway, if she's not here when he returns, that would be just as well."

  The young man smiled. “Yes, I think she ought to go home. Some members of my family will be very happy to see her."

  He led the silent girl out of the house. At the gateway he paused while she rushed to the canal's edge to heave emptily into the water, all under the mute, astonished gaze of Lion and Telpoch.

  Yaotl laughed. “Demons, indeed!"

  * * * *

  Fortitude, Telpoch reflected, was one of the most important qualities of a priest, but he had rarely needed it so much as now. Listening to his friend boasting of his own cleverness would try any man's patience.

  "I can't pretend I knew all along,” Yaotl admitted, as they squatted in the priest house that night, enjoying the end of the fast and their first food since daybreak. “I'm not that clever!"

  "No, really?” Telpoch spoke through a mouthful of leftover porridge.

  "But you know what gave it away?"

  "Do tell."

  "Lion's mentioning my mother. There'd been all that stuff the householder said about his wife, and it occurred to me that the little woman would have found some way to get back at him. So she puts something in his food—that's why he couldn't stomach her cooking. She doesn't do it all the time, of course, and it's never anything deadly: just some emetic root, enough to make him thoroughly miserable.

  "She didn't break the ladle by accident. I suppose they'd had a row and she thought it was time for his medicine. So she found an excuse to go indoors for a cup. She put some of the poison in it, and topped it up with porridge from the pot."