Fugitives of Fate

by Morganfield, T. L.

  Izel looked away, uncomfortable. "You and the huey tlatoani—"

  "He's to marry a princess of Texcoco in a month, so no, there's nothing between us—" Her voice broke and she had to swallow to continue. "Not anymore, anyway. It wasn't meant to be."

  "I'm sorry, My Lady," Izel whispered, understanding breaking her voice.

  Malinali smiled to keep the tears back. "I look forward to meeting your brother and discussing the future. Perhaps we can do so over a meal tomorrow, in the morning?"

  "Perhaps we should wait a few more days—"

  "That won't be necessary. I'm ready to move on, and I'm certain Lord Ohtli would appreciate the stability of a family while he's settling into his new position."

  ¤

  Feasts usually ran until the morning, but with Council meetings the next day, the head steward wrapped up meal service early, and the palace guards escorted the guests to their rooms before the priests rang the midnight bells in the sacred precinct. Both Cuauhtemoc and Malinali remained in the great hall bidding everyone farewell until only they and their personal guards remained.

  Once alone, Cuauhtemoc took Malinali's hand and drew her to him. "I thought this feast would never end." He leaned in to kiss her, but she drew back. "Are you all right?" When she struggled to speak, he asked, "Acxotecatl didn't talk to you, did he? I gave the guards very specific instructions to not allow him to approach you."

  Malinali blinked at him, startled. "No, no he didn't, but...you really ordered the guards to keep him away from me?"

  His cheeks flushed, fearing a scolding. "I didn't want him upsetting you. I don't trust him."

  She chuckled, finally smiling. "That wasn't necessary, but thank you for thinking about me."

  "I'm always thinking about you." He squeezed her hands between his and tried again to kiss her, but again she drew back, frowning. "What is it, my love?"

  She refused to look at him though, bringing back the sick feeling in his stomach. "I can't do this anymore, Cuauhtemoc." Her voice broke.

  "Can't do what?" His own voice faltered.

  "Tomorrow morning, I'm meeting with Lady Izel and her brother, to arrange a marriage between myself and Lord Ohtli."

  "You are?"

  She nodded. "It's the logical thing to do. I'm not an insignificant slave woman anymore; I'm the Cihuacoatl of Tenochtitlan and I have a legacy to think about. My children can't be the illegitimate offspring of the huey tlatoani. That would undermine respect for my authority and power."

  He felt numb as he admitted, "It would."

  "The only way I can be equal to Lord Matlatzincatzin is to demand the same rights any man is given; I require devotion to me alone from any man in my household, the same way you require it of your wife and concubines, and I will give my devotion to him in return, because it is only fair and right to respect that I am his wife." She finally looked up at him and squeezed his hands firmly with her own. "Nor will I ask you to toss aside your honor and break your betrothal to Ixtlil's sister, even though I love you and want you more than I've ever wanted anyone; it is your honorable nature that won my heart, so this needs to end now. It's perhaps too late to keep from hurting you—certainly too late for me—but it must be done."

  Cuauhtemoc nodded, his throat too choked to let him speak. When she started taking her hands from his, he tightened his grip, desperate to never let her go. But then he regained his composure and relaxed his grip, watching her hands slip away. "I understand. We all do what we must."

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. She turned and ran from the great hall, Tenoch and another guard following her once she raced past them. He stared at the empty doorway a long time before finding the will to move.

  But instead of going to his quarters, he turned and headed out into the gardens, his fists clenched at his sides. His guards rushed to catch up with him.

  He followed the flagstone path to the back of the garden, to the pond where his mother had told him he was marrying Ixtlil's sister. What I wouldn't give to go back to that day and tell her she's not choosing my wife for me, he thought, staring into the black water at his feet. He hoped with a little time, the exhaustion would overwhelm the pain swamping his insides and drive him to his bed, so he could put this all aside while he slept.

  Voices coming deeper into the garden drew his attention—and his ire; he wanted to be left alone to wallow in self-pity. As the voices grew closer, he recognized Ixtlil's laughter; the other voice was a woman's, but not his wife's. Temper flaring, Cuauhtemoc stalked away from the pond towards the voices, his guards tailing him.

  When he came upon his friend, Ixtlil had one of Cuauhtemoc's slave women pressed up against the trunk of a large oak tree, kissing her as he worked his hands down to the hem of her dress. "Have you no honor, you dog?" Cuauhtemoc spat.

  Both Ixtlil and the slave woman started, though the woman looked far more shamed by being caught like this. Ixtlil chuckled. "I thought you'd be celebrating late into the night with your new Cihuacoatl. What are you doing out here?"

  "And I repeat, have you no honor? How many times have I told you to leave my slaves alone?"

  Ixtlil frowned, annoyed. "You should go, my dear," he told the woman.

  "Yes, My Lord." She hastily pulled down the hem of her dress then backed away from them, bowing as she moved down the path towards the palace until she disappeared behind the trees.

  "What is the meaning of this?" Ixtlil demanded, eyeing Cuauhtemoc's guards. His own came into view from beyond the trees, looking tense. "Have I never properly compensated you if I get one of your slaves with child?"

  "This is not about compensation, Ixtlil. This is about honor. I told you to leave my slaves alone and yet you refuse to respect my wishes. That is not the action of an honorable man!"

  Ixtlil stood taller and wrinkled his nose. "Well, if it bothers you that much—"

  "It bothers me that I honor my agreements with you but you don't do the same with me. You have all manner of fun in defiance of my wishes but you expect me to be miserable following yours."

  Startled, Ixtlil took a step back. "What...what in the world are you talking about? I never demand anyone be miserable on my account."

  Cuauhtemoc laughed unkindly. "I'm certain your wife would beg to differ."

  Ixtlil's eyes bulged. "How dare you presume to think you know anything at all about Papantzin—"

  "Why are you here in my garden with one of my slaves when you should be back in the guest quarters with your wife? Or are you so used to thinking about your own happiness that you give no thought to hers'? What do you think your wife does every night while you're off with some other woman? Do you ever consider that she might cry for some lost love she had to walk away from and never see again because she was obligated to marry you—and give herself only to you—to tie together some political bond she had nothing to do with making in the first place? Has it ever occurred to you that she might cry herself to sleep while you find your joy and love—things she will never know—with every woman but her?"

  Ixtlil opened his mouth to protest, but no coherent words came out.

  "Of course you don't, because she's a woman of honor and she'd never let on that being your wife makes her miserable. Just as I will marry your sister instead of the woman I love, and though I doubt I will ever be happy again, it doesn't matter because I am a man of honor."

  After floundering for words, Ixtlil finally sputtered, "What are you talking about? You can still take Malinali for a concubine—"

  Cuauhtemoc shook his head. "She's marrying Lord Ohtli."

  "Ohtli? Whatever for?"

  "To make certain she has a legitimate legacy of her own. And I don't blame her. I can't marry her myself because I've committed to marrying Xocotzin, nor can I undermine her new position by expecting her to be my concubine. I respect her too much to ask that of her. So I must let her go." He pressed his eyes with his fingers, fighting off stinging tears.

  Ixtlil stared at him, all the anger and offense drained from his fa
ce. "I'm so sorry, Cuauhtemoc."

  Cuauhtemoc waved him off, the exhaustion finally hitting with terrific force. He wished he were already back in his quarters, so he could fall onto his bed and forget this night for a few hours. "What does any of it matter? Go find that slave woman and enjoy yourself. I'll see you tomorrow at the Council meeting." He then headed for the palace, his gilded sandals feeling as if they were made of solid brick instead.

  ¤

  "Revered Speaker. My Lord," a whispering voice echoed, drawing Cuauhtemoc from a thankfully dreamless sleep. He blinked up at the face of one of his guards leaning over him. "I beg forgiveness for waking you, but Lord Ixtlilxochitl says it's urgent."

  Cuauhtemoc looked towards the window to see full daylight glowing bright on the curtain. He'd slept much later than he intended. He rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn. "Where is he?"

  "In your anteroom, My Lord. Shall I call for your body servants to dress you?"

  Shaking his head, Cuauhtemoc rose and tossed his blanket aside. "No, but if you could hand me my robe, I'd appreciate it."

  Once the guard helped him into the robe he'd dropped on the floor next to his bed the night before, he went into the anteroom to find Ixtlil pacing as if he hadn't slept at all. His own Cihuacoatl stood nearby, holding a bulging cotton sack. When he saw Cuauhtemoc, a look of relief spread over his face. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry—no doubt you had trouble sleeping last night—but this can't wait."

  Cuauhtemoc approached him, concerned. "Are you all right?" Much of the previous night's discussion felt like a fuzzy dream, but he knew he'd been unnecessarily hard on his best friend.

  Ixtlil hesitated before saying, "I think I will be, with a little work and a little time, but this isn't about me." He motioned to his Cihuacoatl, who came forward and held out the bag, his head bowed.

  "What is this?"

  "I'm returning the bride price to you and calling off the betrothal."

  Cuauhtemoc stared at the bag but didn't take it. His heart hammered in his chest. "I know I said things I shouldn't have last night, because I was upset—"

  "And I understand it now." Ixtlil went back to pacing. "I thought about what you said, about Papantzin.... I didn't want to believe you, so I went to her room and asked, and...." He leaned against the hearth, his fist clenched above his head. "It took some work to get the truth out of her, but once I did, the tears.... I've never felt so horrible, Cuauhtemoc. I don't want her to be miserable."

  "I know you don't."

  "And I don't want that for you either. You're more a brother to me than any of my real brothers, and though I want our families joined, I won't do it by forcing you to marry Xocotzin. You need to be with Malintzin, so take back the bride price."

  Cuauhtemoc finally took the bag and gripped it tightly. "I owe you a debt for this, Ixtlil."

  "You owe me nothing, but for the gods' sakes, don't stand there. Get over to the Cihuacoatl's palace and offer yourself to her before she goes and betroths herself to Lord Ohtli!"

  Chapter Eighteen

  Malinali failed to sleep, and morning arrived all too soon. Nor could she find the willpower to smile or even make conversation as Xochitli dressed her for her meeting with Lady Izel and Lord Ohtli.

  "I don't think you should go through with this betrothal," Xochitli said as she fixed her dress.

  "It's for the best. It's not as if a woman my age has many choices."

  Xochitli frowned, helpless. "I hope he's kind."

  "I won't marry him if he isn't," Malinali assured her. "I want my own family, but I'm not so desperate as to put up with being treated worse than I was as a slave." She picked up her headdress and faced the polished obsidian mirror hanging on her wall. "Help me get it placed?"

  As Xochitli arranged her hair to hold the headdress in place, Malinali's head steward came to the door and bowed. "Lord Ohtli and Lady Izel are here."

  "Escort them to the table in the garden and tell them I will join them shortly." Once Xochitli finished, Malinali stared at herself in the obsidian mirror her friend held up for her. Eventually she sighed. "Best get this over with."

  "You're certain about this?"

  "No, but then I'm used to having no good options, so I'll make do. And maybe I will even learn to love Lord Ohtli."

  When she arrived in the garden, her guests promptly bowed, touching knees to the ground in reverential greeting befitting her new status, but she quickly asked them to sit with her at the stone table. She then turned her attention squarely on Ohtli. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, My Lord. Your sister has told me good things about you."

  He nodded gravely. "And I've heard good things about your role in securing peace between our peoples. I am honored to be here representing that commitment."

  He's so formal, Malinali thought as the servants brought food out on wooden trays. I wonder if he even knows how to smile. Cuauhtemoc has a wonderful smile. The thought warmed her, but she scolded herself for making such comparisons.

  Ohtli kept a very formal distance throughout the meal, letting his sister do most of the talking. He spoke only when spoken to, and he answered any questions in short, concise statements; any attempts to elicit a smile from him produced no response, not even an involuntary tugging of his cheek muscles. By the time they finished the meal, she felt as if she'd endured an exhausting meeting with the rulers of a hostile city, not a casual breakfast.

  And to think I still have to sit through a Council meeting. Best get this done. "If you don't mind, My Lady, I would like to discuss some matters with your brother in private."

  Lady Izel rose quickly. "Of course. I've wanted to look at all the flowers you have here. The Mexica have such beautiful gardens."

  Once Izel was out of earshot, Malinali addressed Ohtli. "Your sister believes we might make a good marital match, and while you strike me as an honorable, upstanding man, before making an official commitment to such an arrangement, I wish to know more about you, personally."

  "Of course," he agreed, his demeanor unchanged.

  "If you don't mind my asking, why did you decide to leave the priesthood?"

  Ohtli shrugged. "I didn't find it a fulfilling vocation, and when the high priest suggested I train to go higher in the ranks, I decided it was time to see if I could find something more suitable."

  "You must be pleased that Xicotencatl chose you as Tlaxcala's representative here in Tenochtitlan."

  "It is an honor. And it gets me away from my mother." Somehow he said this without breaking his stony expression.

  Malinali paused before asking, "Do you have anything to ask me?"

  "Not really."

  "You're aware that I've been married before?"

  "Izel told me as much. It doesn't matter."

  "And you're not worried about my age?"

  "Women do have children late into life. My own mother had me when she was well past her prime childbearing years."

  "I may only be able to give you one, maybe two children."

  "That's sufficient."

  "And if none of them are sons?"

  He shrugged again. "I can always name a child from a concubine my heir."

  Malinali shifted in place, preparing for battle. "I have certain expectations that you should know about. While most noblemen may keep and bear children by multiple women, I won't allow that. If we're to marry, I require that you give yourself to no one else but me. And I shall do the same for you."

  A shadow of amusement finally crossed his face. "With all due respect, that isn't something you can legally require of me. I come from a well-respected Tlaxcalan noble family and that affords me certain rights."

  "And I'm the Cihuacoatl of Tenochtitlan, which affords me the right to refuse your demands if I find they undermine my status. It's as simple as saying I will not marry you unless you meet my minimum standards."

  He stiffened his jaw and looked away, to a couple of sparrows picking grubs out of the grass. "I must admit that this arrangement doesn't seem fair to me."


  Malinali laughed. "You would gain status by marrying me, and yet it's unfair that I would require the same faithfulness from you that you would require of me?"

  "But what if we don't care for each other?"

  "Would that still matter to you if I didn't make this specific demand? Granted, I will make every effort to 'care for you', so our marriage isn't completely unbearable, but then such trivialities are hardly important in these kinds of political alliances. We aren't peasants, after all."

  Now Ohtli laughed too. "I don't suppose so. I admit hesitation; we can't even settle on betrothal terms without casting spears at each other. I can only imagine how...interesting our intimate life would be."

  This time, Malinali glared at him. "It will be quite dull, I assure you. Particularly since you can't convince me that I should tolerate you for one day, let alone the rest of my life."

  "You keep talking as if you're doing me favors when in reality your best years are behind you and you're running low on options," Ohtli pointed out. "I might not have your political status, but I'm not some lowly farmer. I represent Tlaxcala on the Triple Alliance Council and I could easily make a match with one of Lord Zolin's many daughters or even one of the former huey tlatoanis' daughters. At least they would be young enough to fill my house with many children and not make ridiculous demands of me that they have no business—nor legal right—to make in the first place." He shook his head, pity on his face. "I'm the one doing you a favor, My Lady. If you want to tie your dress to my cape, it will be under traditional terms, because, as you said, we're not peasants. I have plenty of choices. I cannot, however, say the same of you."

  Malinali stared at him, a mixture of fury and sadness filling her. "I'm afraid I must reject this proposal." She rose slowly to her feet. There was a time not so long ago she might have accepted such nastiness—when she had no choice but to do so—but she wasn't that woman anymore. "The guards will see you out." She motioned to Tenoch, who hurried over from the doorway into the palace.

  Shocked, Ohtli rose and followed Tenoch out. Malinali didn't watch him leave, but once she was alone, she sank into the grass, the tears coming of their own accord. She kept silent though, not wanting anyone to hear her anger and disappointment as it drained down her cheeks in winding rivulets.