Fugitives of Fate

by Morganfield, T. L.

  One couldn't see the bath yard from the passageway thanks to the row of tall hedges a handful of steps past the hall's end, forming an open-air passageway leading both right and left. Two small, knee-high statues—one of the war god Huitzilopochtli, the other of his mother Coatlicue—designated which direction to go depending on one's gender, so Malinali followed the passage to the left. Around the corner, she found Xochitli sitting at a gap in the hedges that marked the women's bath yard entrance. Xochitli scrambled to her feet when she saw her. "They took your collar off already?"

  Malinali let slip a nervous laugh. "And I never have to wear it again!" Xochitli stared, confused, so she added, "I ran!"

  Xochitli gasped. "You did?"

  "And I made it to the palace without getting caught!"

  Xochitli shrieked in delight and hugged her, but then she moved away, smoothing her dress as if she'd forgotten her place. When Malinali cast her a questioning gaze, she whispered, "I have strict orders to treat you as a noblewoman at all times, in case we're being watched."

  "Cuauhtemoc did say something about that."

  "Was he angry? About you winning your freedom?"

  "Not the slightest. In fact...." She looked around then grabbed Xochitli's hand and pulled her into the hedge-enclosed bath yard.

  A tall adobe steam bath sat off to one side and a deep pool of water filled a large stone basin buried in the ground. A small fire burned in a pit off to the side with a kettle of water over it, already steaming. Malinali couldn't remember the last time she'd had a hot bath. The water in the slave quarters was always cold, for wood fuel couldn't be wasted on frivolities such as hot water for slaves.

  "What happened?" Xochitli asked as she helped Malinali out of her clothes for the bath.

  "I was all wrong about him." She thought back to his embrace and the exciting mix of joy and desire his touch brought bubbling to the surface. "And we finally kissed." She sighed, but then blushed, realizing just how ridiculous she must sound, giddy as a young girl in love for the first time.

  Xochitli smiled. "I told you everything would work out."

  "You did. I should always trust your judgment, because it's always spot-on." Fully undressed, Malinali toed the water in the basin then eased her way into it. The luxurious heat sent a frenzy of shivers through her flesh as she sank slowly into the steaming water.

  "Well, most of the time," Xochitli said with a laugh. She secured sea sponges onto her hands with leather bindings then dipped them into the water and wrung them over Malinali's head, to wet her hair. "But in this case, I knew he wasn't truly interested in Tayanna. With a little coaxing, Tayanna spilled the truth on the way over here this morning. She bedded the King of Texcoco and he's taken her into his household, as a concubine."

  Malinali sat gape-mouthed before saying, "But I saw Cuauhtemoc with her—"

  "And maybe it was merely sex; an itch in need of scratching."

  Malinali knew all this, and maybe this budding affair was just more scratching. He did say I wanted you, not I love you.

  But it's a start, she decided with a smile. We'll see where it goes from here.

  Chapter Ten

  "You're going to wear a path in my flagstones," Ixtlil scolded Cuauhtemoc as he paced near the copal tree. "It won't make her get here any faster. She's getting all powdered and primped, making certain she's beautiful for you." He let out a whooshing breath when one of his young sons pounced on his lap to escape the wrath of his older sister as she yelled about him bothering her and Achicatl.

  "She could hardly be more beautiful than she was back there in the great hall," Cuauhtemoc replied with a distant smile.

  Ixtlil hefted his son off his lap. "I was right, wasn't I?"

  Looking at him distractedly, Cuauhtemoc asked, "Right about what?"

  "Had you told her the truth, everything would have fallen into place."

  Cuauhtemoc chuckled. "You were right. Does that make you feel big?"

  Achicatl and Ixtlil's daughter sat down nearby to braid the corn silk hair of their dolls. "Who are you talking about, Tatli?"

  "Malinali."

  "Are you going to make her my handmaiden once you get back from Tlaxcala?"

  "No."

  Achicatl screwed up her face in a pout. "But you said you would consider it, Tatli!"

  "Malinali doesn't serve our house anymore. She's a free woman now."

  "Oh! You freed her? That was very nice of you."

  Cuauhtemoc chuckled sadly. "You think very highly of your Tatli, Achicatl."

  She gave him a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't I?" But before he could answer, she went on, "Maybe you could hire her to be my handmaiden, or...oh, oh, oh! I know something even better!" She dropped her doll and ran to him, grabbing his hand in both of hers—she hadn't yet internalized the prohibitions against touching him, especially when she was excited, and he made no effort to correct her. She gazed up at him imploringly. "You could marry her, Tatli, then she could be my mother!"

  "I can't marry her, my precious feather. I'm betrothed to Lady Xocotzin."

  "You could still take her for a concubine," Ixtlil offered between drinks from his cup.

  "I’m not taking her for anything," Cuauhtemoc snapped. He opened his mouth to say more, but Ixtlil's wife came into the garden, followed by Lady Xocotzin. He stood straighter and bowed to Xocotzin when she bowed to him. "A pleasure to see you again, My Lady."

  Xocotzin blushed but Achicatl screwed up her face into a fierce scowl. "Why are you marrying her? She's no different than Lady Tecuichpo!"

  Cuauhtemoc returned his daughter's scowl. "You're being very rude."

  Achicatl swatted his hand away. "You promised it would be someone older, someone more like Mother. But she's nothing like Mother!"

  Ixtlil's wife escorted the stunned Xocotzin to the table where the other delegates gathered, avidly watching Achicatl's tantrum. Cuauhtemoc advanced on his daughter as she ran away, shouting, "I want Malinali! I want Malinali!"

  She needs the firm grip of a good mother. She tried darting away from him, but he grabbed her by the arm and she squealed like a prodded tapir. She swung her free fist at him, struggling to get away, but he grabbed that arm too and held her still. "You will apologize to Lady Xocotzin for your rude tongue, or I'll send you to your quarters without dinner."

  "I won't say sorry! You promised—"

  "Then to your room with you." Cuauhtemoc motioned to Achicatl's handmaiden, who stood off to the side looking mortified. "Put her to bed. I will see her again in the morning."

  "I want Malinali!" Achicatl cried as the handmaiden dragged her out of the garden.

  Cuauhtemoc took a few calming breaths before turning back to the others. Xocotzin wouldn't look at him when he came to the table and offered his apologies.

  "Children will be children," Ixtlil's wife replied, with a sympathetic smile.

  Before he could respond, he looked up to see Malinali step out of the doorway into the garden. When their gazes locked, the whole world fell away. His claim that she couldn't be more beautiful had been wrong; her friend had done her hair up very neatly and lightly powdered her face, which made her skin glow, and her formally-long dress covered all but the toes of her sandaled feet. A blanket-like shawl covered her shoulders and upper arms, concealing the calluses left by years of wearing that wooden collar.

  He hardly knew he'd moved until he stood before her. "You look lovely." His own voice sounded distant against the firm thudding in his ears. The sweet, vanilla smell of bone flowers filled the air between them.

  Her cheeks colored but she didn't look away, driving him even further into the grip of lust. "Thank you." He knew her soft brown eyes well, but tonight they held unspoken promise, an ardent expression that had to be only in his imagination. He held out his arm to her.

  But she eyed it skeptically, breaking the enchantment; they weren't alone. He withdrew his arm and cleared his throat before saying, "Please join us, if you would."

  She smiled diplomatica
lly and nodded, following him to the table.

  "This is Lady Malintzin," he announced. She blinked at him adding the suffix to her name, identifying her as a noblewoman, but she quickly recovered with a smile. He went around the table, naming each of the diplomats in turn, five in all, then ended with Papantzin and Xocotzin. Both women bowed, and Papantzin invited Malinali to sit next to her. But even then Malinali waited until everyone else sat down before doing so herself, and only after Cuauhtemoc nodded at her. She blinked, no doubt cursing old habits. She watched with unease as a food taster picked at her plate.

  "Is this your first time in Texcoco?" Papantzin asked when Malinali gazed around at the gardens in awe while everyone else talked.

  "I passed through on my way from Cholula." But then Malinali reddened. She cleared her throat. "Your gardens are the most splendid I've ever seen."

  "They are magnificent," Ixtlil agreed with a proud smile. "My grandfather Nezahualcoyotl built them, and he wrote most of his poetry up at the top of that hill." He pointed to the stepped waterfall behind him. "It sits taller than any of the valley's temples, so he always said he felt closest to the gods up there."

  "I confess envy for your gardens," Cuauhtemoc said. "Though being on a mountainside rather than confined to an island has its space advantages." To Malinali, he added, "I love watching the bone flowers open up in the morning sun." When she gave him a puzzled look, he explained, "They close at night then unfurl in the morning, to drink in the sunlight."

  Malinali peered at him fervently, caught up in the moment, but then she looked away, no doubt embarrassed for having been caught staring at him in front of everyone. She made him yearn in ways he hadn't felt in years. He couldn't wait for this meal to be over, so they could retire to their private quarters and she would again feel free to pin him with her intense gaze, and he'd be free to kiss her again. And again. And again.

  ¤

  The meal started as an awkward affair, particularly with the appraising stares of the other delegates, and Malinali's own tripping over social expectations; she could have kicked herself when she nearly let spill that she'd been a slave the last time she visited Texcoco, but Ixtlil's wife proved a warm, non-judgmental woman who made a concerted effort to engage her and make her comfortable. The king's sister, on the other hand, remained distracted and disconnected, and once she finished eating, she asked to be dismissed.

  "You missed the unfortunate outburst before you arrived," Papantzin told Malinali as she took her on a tour of the gardens while the men smoked their pipes. "The huey tlatoani's daughter threw a tantrum about him marrying Xocotzin. Apparently she doesn't approve of the girl's youth."

  "Achicatl is a willful child at the best of times."

  "She's quite taken with you, though."

  "Oh?"

  She nodded. "She wants her father to marry you instead, so you must have made quite the impression on her."

  Marry Cuauhtemoc, Malinali thought with a wistful smile. A completely ludicrous idea, but daydreams needn't be realistic.

  They reached the top of the stair-stepped waterfall where an array of polished obsidian mirrors stood attached to posts, in a circle facing inward. She'd only ever casually glanced at herself in mirrors when fetching them for Tecuichpo, and she always thought she could see hints of her mother in her features, but now as she looked at herself more fully, dressed as a noblewoman, the resemblance was far from subtle. She frowned until Papantzin asked her what was wrong. "It's as if I'm looking at my mother," she muttered.

  "Is that not a good thing?"

  "She was very beautiful, on the outside. She gave me to slavers when I was only six." The ease with which she divulged this fact startled her. After all the effort she'd gone to all night to not talk about her past....

  Papantzin was horrified. "But why ever would she do something so dreadful?"

  Malinali stared more intensely at her reflection, as if she faced her mother instead. "I've always wondered as much myself." Rationally, she knew the reason: she stood in the way of her half-brother inheriting the throne, but emotionally, she couldn't begin to understand how anyone would willingly give away their child, not caring that they'd never see them again. After all she'd risked to try to keep her own son, all the pain and regret that haunted her....

  She looked down the waterfall, to the lawn where Cuauhtemoc sat with the other men, smoking their pipes in the day's dying light. It's time you lifted that final stone away, don't you think? When Cuauhtemoc looked up to meet her gaze and waved, she waved back. Time to stop letting the past fester in the dark.

  ¤

  Malinali thought the evening would never end, but finally Cuauhtemoc convinced Ixtlil to let them retire. "We must leave very early tomorrow," he reminded his friend.

  "At least let me send some octli to your quarters, to help you sleep." Ixtlil gave him a pointed look.

  Cuauhtemoc returned the look but with a smile. "We'll talk again in the morning." With the other men gone to bed already, this time when he offered Malinali his arm, she took it, and when he said, "Forgive his scoundrel ways," she laughed.

  Their servants awaited them in the guest quarters' courtyard. Achicatl's handmaiden reported that the princess had finally screamed herself to sleep, but she still wished Cuauhtemoc to say goodnight to her. The poor woman looked worn out. "I told her you wouldn't be back until she was asleep, but she insisted."

  "I'll go see her." Cuauhtemoc disappeared through the door closest to his quarters, on the right side of the courtyard. Malinali stayed behind, not wanting to impose.

  "I thought you might want something for the calluses on your neck," Xochitli said, holding out a clay jar. "Do you want me to put it on for you?"

  Malinali took the jar. "If you don't mind, I have someone else in mind to do that." She cast an anxious glance back to the doorway where Cuauhtemoc had gone.

  Xochitli immediately understood. "Then let me get out of your way. Just make certain you get some sleep." She winked, then left Malinali standing apart from the guards and body servants.

  A few moments later, Cuauhtemoc returned. "I don't think she even realized I was there," he said with a laugh.

  "She'll appreciate it anyway." Malinali glanced down at the jar in her hands then said, stumbling on her words, "My handmaiden brought me some cream, for my neck, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind...." She made nervous motions at her neck, mimicking the words that caught in her throat. Her face heated when he grinned at her. "And there's something I need to talk to you about," she finished, her stomach fully aflutter.

  Cuauhtemoc took the jar. "I am at your disposal, My Lady."

  His quarters made her room look like a storage bin. A roaring fire in the hearth provided the only light, painting a warm yellow glow over a sitting area filled with pillows, dimly illuminating the murals of gods and kings on the whitewashed walls. Soft moonlight leaking through the rear window gave barest evidence of a large bed of mats and furs big enough to accommodate a dozen people.

  Cuauhtemoc's body servants followed them inside, but after they relieved him of his diadem, he dismissed them and told Malinali to sit on the pillows. He sat behind her. "Let's take this shawl off, so I don't get cream all over it."

  She pulled the diamond-shaped shawl over her head and set it next to her. When she gathered her long black hair over her left shoulder, baring her neck, she felt naked. It both thrilled and frightened her. The click of clay against clay only increased the confusion of emotions stewing inside her, and she flinched when the cool cream touched her skin.

  "Everything all right?" Cuauhtemoc's breath was hot on her ear, and the heat of his hands warmed the cream as he pushed his fingers against her flesh.

  She suppressed the urge to moan and instead whispered, "It was cold."

  "Better now?"

  "Wonderful." She breathed deep as he glided his hands down the sides of her neck, and pressed his palms against her shoulder blades. She closed her eyes, drinking in the luxury of his kneading finge
rs as they freed her of the day's tension. A sweet tobacco smell clung to him from the after-dinner smoke; it reminded her of those quiet evenings they'd spent alone in his quarters, talking over the meal. She shivered when he pressed his soft, warm lips against her nape. She'd often daydreamed that those other nights might turn from talk to this very thing, and part of her still couldn't believe it was happening. The tension returned, pulsing in her abdomen.

  He moved slowly down the back of her neck, laying down gentle kisses as he went. When he worked his way back up with his tongue, chills raced across her nape. He smiled against her skin and chuckled. "Wonderful too?"

  "Very," she breathed.

  She didn't often think of Acxotecatl, but now she couldn't help it. This was so very different. He'd always called upon her late in the night, when he was flush with octli and eager to prove himself a man. He didn't bother with seduction or play, and finished as rough as he started. That was how most sex had been for her; slaves were often seen as no different than prostitutes, there to see to their master's pleasure when the moment called. None of them had kissed her neck, none of them had listened or cared. No one had tended to her scars, be they on her neck or on her heart.

  No one but Cuauhtemoc.

  This realization steadied the nervous twitches in her stomach, and she reached over her shoulder to grab onto his feathery cloak, leaning back to press her body against his.

  He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her earlobe with his teeth. "There was something you wanted to talk about?"

  There was, but to bring it up now would ruin the moment. She wanted to think about pleasure, not pain. "Later." She turned to him and brought her mouth to his. She knotted her fists in his cape, pulling him to her chest, but then she let go to cup his face with her hands—So scandalous, so delicious, boldly defying those pesky rules about touching!—and she kissed him deeper.