Fugitives of Fate

by Morganfield, T. L.

  "I'm fine," Malinali assured her. "We worked everything out and all's well. I'm going to help him with a project."

  "What kind of project?"

  "A peace treaty with Tlaxcala."

  "Tlaxcala?"

  Malinali looked around, making certain they wouldn't be overheard. "I used to belong to one of the Lords of Tlaxcala."

  "You did?"

  Malinali nodded. "It wasn't a good time in my life, and some things happened that I've always wished I could forget."

  Lowering her voice further, Xochitli asked, "Does it have to do with your baby?"

  Malinali blinked at her, stunned. She'd told no one about Ollin. "How did you know—?"

  "Your stretch marks, of course. How often have we shared the steam bath these last three years? I didn't want to say anything, since you've never mentioned it, and I thought it might be painful to talk about. I'm sorry; it was completely insensitive of me to bring it up."

  Malinali took her hand and squeezed it. "It's all right. I've kept it a secret so long...I'm glad you know."

  Xochitli smiled, relieved.

  The head steward called from the kitchen doorway, so Malinali went to see what he wanted. "Report to the nursery. Lady Achicatl's handmaiden is sick, so you're assigned to the princess today."

  ¤

  Even though Malinali had been Tecuichpo's handmaiden since her mistress was nine, she'd never once gone into the royal nursery; as the huey tlatoani's wife, Tecuichpo had always lived in the room down the hall from her husband. The maze of rooms inside the nursery was astonishing, as well as the number of children; most of them were gathered in the anteroom, playing with dolls or wooden swords.

  But a terrible racket came from behind one of the curtains adorned with a swooping eagle, and judging from the annoyed glares of the older children, it had been going on for a long time now. When Malinali asked one of the old women where the emperor's daughter was, the woman confirmed that Lady Achicatl was the cause of the ruckus. Malinali peeked through the curtain.

  A small girl no older than seven lay on the bed, beating her fists and kicking her bare feet, her hoarse screams impressively hair-raising. But when Malinali yanked the curtain open, clattering the copper bells, she stared at Malinali with tear-filled eyes, suddenly silent. "You're not Apozonalli," she sputtered.

  "Obviously." Malinali yanked the curtain closed behind her then stood glaring down at her, arms folded. "Does this kind of thing usually work on her?"

  Achicatl sat up, wiping tears away. When she spoke again, her voice was completely calm. "Who are you?"

  "Your handmaiden for the day." Malinali went to the wicker chests lined up along the right wall and tossed the first lid open. "Why in Mictlan aren't you dressed yet?"

  "Apozonalli dresses me."

  Malinali tossed her a sharp look. "Can't you dress yourself?"

  The girl sat straighter. "Princesses don't dress themselves. Their servants do it for them."

  "If this princess wants to eat, she will dress herself." Malinali tossed Achicatl a dress.

  Achicatl stared at her, aghast. "How dare you?"

  "What's the matter? Don't you know how?" When Achicatl snapped her mouth shut, Malinali added, "I was a princess once and even I knew how to put on my own dress."

  Achicatl edged closer, her face a mural of curiosity. "You were a princess too? Of where?"

  "A small village you've probably never heard of, in the south."

  "Are you Maya, then?"

  "I am."

  "My Tatli sometimes shows me maps of the Maya cities. He says they're the strongest people in the One World."

  Malinali tossed her a clean undergarment. "I'm glad to see your father doesn't raise fools for children. I have every faith that you can put your own dress on."

  Achicatl beamed at the compliment and proceeded to strip off her nightgown. She needed help tying the knots to hold on her undergarment—no one had ever shown her how—but she managed to get her dress on quickly. Malinali brushed her hair into two pieces then braided and secured them up the back of her head, so the tips stood up like horns, in typical noblewoman fashion. Achicatl smiled when she beheld her reflection in her obsidian mirror.

  "Are you to be my new handmaiden?"

  "I wouldn't count on it. I've only been asked to stand in today."

  Eyeing her with admiration, Achicatl said, "I may have to talk to someone about that."

  Malinali laughed then held her hand out to her. "Let's get your atole now."

  Achicatl snatched up her hand. "Can I have chocolate with it?"

  "Since you dressed yourself, that can be arranged."

  ¤

  Achicatl wanted to go to the sacred precinct, to look at the temples and statues, but Malinali insisted she do weaving first. That led to a momentary breakdown in negotiations while Achicatl stomped and hollered, but after Malinali rolled her eyes and laughed, she reluctantly agreed to one hour of sewing. Now they sat peacefully on the garden patio with a small loom and a basket of colored cotton thread.

  Malinali soon understood why Achicatl hated weaving. No one had ever taken the time to properly teach her the skill, so everything she made was loose and crooked, and Malinali struggled to identify exactly what the little girl was making. So she tore out everything and made her start over, instructing the little girl on the basics, and once Achicatl understood her mistakes, she took to it quite well.

  "You're the one who eats with my Tatli every day, aren't you?" Achicatl asked as Malinali inspected her fourth row of work.

  "I don't actually eat with him. I just bring him his food."

  "He won't share with you?"

  Malinali laughed. "It's not appropriate for him to share food with a slave."

  "You shouldn't be a slave. You should be a princess again, and then it would be perfectly fine for him to share food with you. Why ever did you become a slave anyway?"

  "It wasn't my choice. Some things are thrust upon us."

  "Like weaving," Achicatl grumbled.

  Malinali laughed harder. "That's not quite the same thing."

  Achicatl wound her little wooden shuttle carefully back and forth through the rows of thread. "Do you have any children?"

  "I had a son, once." Malinali paused, astonished at how easy it was to say it aloud now that she'd admitted the truth to Xochitli.

  "Did he die?"

  "I don't know what's become of him, but he was alive when last I saw him."

  "I had a brother and he died, right after he was born."

  Malinali nodded. "I'm certain you miss him."

  Achicatl shrugged. "I didn't really know him, but sometimes he visits me in my dreams and we play chase in the garden. I miss him when I wake up and he's not there." She gave a slight sniff. "Do you miss your son?"

  "Every day, though I didn't get to know him as I should either." In fact, she had only fed him once at her breast before that thief tore him from her.

  Achicatl sighed. "Can we go to the sacred precinct yet? I've done a lot of weaving, haven't I?"

  "And you've done very fine work." While Achicatl danced in circles, excited to be leaving finally, Malinali gathered up the weaving materials. "But you must change your dress first, and put on some face powder."

  "Oh, must I?"

  "Your father wouldn't want me taking you out into the city dressed as anything but a proper princess."

  "But I hate face powder! It makes my face itch, and I look so ugly!"

  "We'll wash it off as soon as we get back," Malinali promised.

  Mollified, Achicatl held Malinali's hand as they went back inside. "We should pick flowers before we go," she suggested. "So I can leave them at the temple of Cihuacoatl, so she'll know how much I appreciate her taking care of my brother now that he's gone."

  "We'll definitely do that," Malinali agreed with a smile.

  ¤

  After the morning with Malinali, Cuauhtemoc felt as if a large rock had rolled off his back, but now he couldn't keep his fe
et firmly planted on the ground. He retired to his study to work on letters to distant allies but instead his mind kept wandering off, thinking about Malinali—of holding her tight as they rode back to the stables in Chapultepec, of the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body, the way she often gave him that skeptical sideways glance he'd grown to love. He'd forgotten to tell the head steward to not send her with the afternoon tray, though now he was glad; he'd get to see her twice today.

  Though he didn't want to make her uneasy again by seeming overeager. When she came with his tray, he would thank her and send her on her way, but be certain to say how much he looked forward to tomorrow. But not too much, he reminded himself.

  But the woman who came with his tray wasn't Malinali. She was younger, and though she kept her eyes downcast, she wore a smile. "Where do you want your food, My Lord?"

  He pushed aside his papers. "Right here's fine." As she knelt next to him, he asked, "Where's my usual servant?"

  "Do you mean Malinali? Oh, she's looking after the princess today. Lady Achicatl's handmaiden wasn't feeling well this morning."

  He nodded then went back to his papers, disappointed. At least she's out of the kitchens for the day, he thought, though now he wanted to see how she was around Achicatl. No, you won't spy on her, no matter how much you want to.

  A sudden brush against his sleeve startled him, but the woman continued unloading the tray as if nothing had happened. Touching his clothing wasn't forbidden, but it still annoyed him that she would be so careless. He thought to chastise her clumsiness, but he couldn't recall ever seeing her before. Perhaps this was her first time serving him. Nervousness was understandable.

  Yet when she finished, she stole a glance at him and smiled, reminding him of a curious doe. He liked when Malinali broke etiquette and met his gaze, but this woman's gall discomfited him. Unsure what to do, he returned the gesture but refocused on his papers.

  "Do you need anything else, My Lord?" She sounded breathless.

  "Nothing, thank you. You can leave now." He forced himself not to look at her again, but the papers in front of him were completely incomprehensible to his racing mind. He didn't hear the bells ring, signaling her departure, but once his food taster returned to his post in the corner, he chanced a glance over his shoulder, half expecting her to be watching him from the doorway, giving him that look that made his mouth dry and his palms sweat.

  Thankfully she was gone.

  "That was...strange," he murmured then went back to his work.

  ¤

  He didn't seek out his daughter until after nightfall, once Malinali had left her for the night. When he came into the nursery, Achicatl lay in bed, but when the copper bells chimed softly as he parted the curtain, she sat up and smiled. "Tatli! You're back!"

  He gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight. "Of course I am, my precious feather. I said I would never leave for so long again, remember?"

  "You were so angry when you said you were going...."

  "I will always keep my promises."

  She hugged him. "I wish I could have come with you. I haven't seen Lord Ixtlil's daughters in forever!"

  "Next time I go to Texcoco, I promise I'll take you with me."

  She grinned, pleased. "I did have fun here though." She regaled him—in painstaking detail—about her day with Malinali: weaving lessons, a trip to the sacred precinct, and making flower garlands in the children's garden with her female cousins. "I had venison and beans, and then Malinali told me a story about twin warriors who went into the underworld and played the sacred ball game with the gods. She said the twins won then they rose into the sky to become the sun and moon, but it's only a story. Everyone knows Tonatiuh is the sun, and Mextli made the moon from his sister's head."

  "The Maya believe differently than we do," Cuauhtemoc said.

  "Did you know she was a princess when she was a girl?"

  "I've heard that said."

  "And somehow she became a slave. I hope that doesn't happen to me."

  "Not so long as I have anything to say about it," Cuauhtemoc assured her.

  "Can she be my handmaiden?"

  "What's wrong with the one you have?"

  Whispering, as if it were a secret, she said, "She can't handle me. I walk all over her, Tatli, but Malinali knows all my tricks and won't let me get away with anything."

  Cuauhtemoc laughed. "I'd think that would be a bad thing."

  Achicatl shook her head. "She reminds me of Mother."

  He frowned. "No one can ever replace your mother, Achicatl. You know that, right?"

  "I do, Tatli, but Malinali is much better than Apozonalli. Please, can I have her for my handmaiden?" She clasped her hands together and gave him pup eyes. "Please!"

  "We'll see."

  She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Tatli." He tucked her under the blankets, and she went on, "I'm so glad you didn't leave again after Tecuichpo left us, but...did you not love her too?"

  He hesitated a moment before admitting, "I was sad that I missed the chance to get to know her enough to love her."

  Achicatl nodded. "Malinali didn't get to know her son well enough either, and she's very sad for it."

  Cuauhtemoc raised an eyebrow. Malinali had a son? He thought to question Achicatl further about this but stopped. When Malinali wanted to tell him about her child, she would.

  "Maybe you could help each other," Achicatl suggested. "You must like her if you spend so much time with her, so maybe you can love her, as you loved Nantli, and maybe she could love you and you could give her a new son, so she doesn't feel so sad anymore. And I would get a new brother. Then we'd all be happy again."

  "It seems so simple, doesn't it?" He kissed her forehead and told her to sleep well. As he returned to his quarters, he thought, If only it were so simple.

  Chapter Seven

  Yesterday Cuauhtemoc had been a bundle of nerves, worrying Malinali would think his near-death vision to be nothing more than a poorly contemplated lie. But now, he was ever so glad he'd trusted his instincts. She spoke not only freely but enthusiastically about the people she knew when she lived in Tlaxcala, and she even broke out laughing when she told him how Acxotecatl took a stray arrow to his backside during an archery demonstration. "He spent the next week lying on his stomach and all the slaves secretly called him Lord Arrow Ass for months afterward."

  She took his breath away when she laughed. More than once as the days passed, he wanted to take her hand in his, but he resisted. He couldn't have her thinking he was trying to get under her dress.

  Though the more time they spent together, the more that exact thought popped into his head; stealing a kiss by the pond, or laying her down in the bed of bone flowers and birds of paradise while the parrots squawked overhead. He found it disgraceful to have so little control of his desires; he prided himself on his absolute control—unlike Ixtlil, who let desire control him. But when she was gone, he longed for her company, for the sound of her voice, the sight of her smile, the smell of her hair. And at night while waiting for sleep to take him, the desire to ask the guards to summon her for him bordered on overpowering. It's because you haven't been with a woman for so very long. It often took hours before his longings would let him relax enough to fall asleep.

  As had become habit, they were sitting together in the garden, Malinali telling him stories while Cuauhtemoc drank in the rich joy of her voice and stared at her wooden collar, more curious than ever to see that mysterious neck of hers. Malinali was in rare form, offering up so much information that he couldn't possibly keep track of it all, making it easy for his mind to wander; to imagine her kneeling across his lap to kiss him, her hands snaking past the elaborate knot the servants tied to keep his loincloth in place, his own hands sliding up under her skirt....

  But the sudden silence snapped him from his distraction. "I'm still listening," he insisted, heat invading his cheeks, but when he noticed she was looking off behind him, he turned too.

  His mot
her was heading towards them, flanked by her guards.

  That joyous, talkative Malinali disappeared, replaced with the silent servant. He hated how she sat with her gaze fixed on the grass, as if she weren't worthy of looking him in the face.

  Forcing a smile, he rose to greet his mother. When she held her cheek out to him, he obeyed with a kiss. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Mother?"

  "You've been avoiding me."

  "I haven't."

  "You've made yourself terribly unavailable this last week, so I must wonder what's so important that you can't make time to speak with the woman who battled the gods for two whole days to bring you into this world." His mother glanced at Malinali and gave a subtle sniff. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything of world-shattering importance."

  "Actually, I'm working on new alliances."

  She gave him a scathing glare. "Allying yourself with the kingdom of Slave Woman, are you?"

  Cuauhtemoc's face flushed with anger, but he lowered his voice when he said, "If I were, it wouldn't concern you. What do you wish to see me about?"

  His mother didn't lower her voice though. "I've found you a bride."

  "You mean Lady Xocotzin?"

  "Good, then you'll be glad to know that the Council has approved the choice and I've paid the bride price for you, so you're now officially betrothed. We need to begin making wedding plans immediately."

  He took his mother's arm and led her away. He tried not to look back, but he couldn't help stealing a glance.

  Malinali still didn’t look up, and the expression on her face was unreadable.

  Confident they were far enough away to not be overheard, Cuauhtemoc said, "I'll agree to the betrothal, but there will be no wedding until Xocotzin reaches majority, so there's no reason to discuss any plans at this point."

  His mother laughed. "I hardly want this to be a rushed affair as with that whole Tecuichpo nonsense, but the longer you wait, the more rumors will work against you." She glanced at Malinali then added, "The huey tlatoani keeps a sense of dignity by having a wife to show off to his allies, and enemies, and right now you look a fool who doesn't care about his legacy. You have no sons, and if you wait much longer, by the time you die, you won't have one old enough to be considered to replace you. The Council won't put a mere boy on the throne, no matter whose blood he carries; frankly, I'm surprised they elected you, as young as you are. And while I adore Achicatl, we are not Maya or Mixtecs: the Mexica don’t elect women rulers."