by Zoe Saadia
Still, it had taken nearly half a century for the real trouble to erupt, and what exactly happened there we might never know for certain, as the most detailed accounts of those few market intervals in the middle of the dry season of 1473 came to us via two different historians living two centuries later, after the entire Mexico had been destroyed by the Spanish invasion. One was Diego Duran, a Spanish monk (Dominican friar) enamored by the local Nahua culture, language, and history to the extent of displeasing his superiors and the church. The other, Domingo Chimalpahin, the 16th century Nahua annalist from Chalco – both post-conquest historians, both clearly relaying Tenochtitlan’s point of view. However, they give us the most detailed accounts of this period, aside from the Codex Mendoza, which doesn’t go into as many juicy details but supports the above-mentioned historians on the main developments.
In 1469, Axayacatl, Tenochtitlan’s sixth ruler, came to occupy his grandfather’s throne. A vigorous young man of reportedly great valor and outstanding leadership skill, he had waged a few successful and less so campaigns, gaining respect of the capital despite his young age.
At the same time, the neighboring Tlatelolco had also seen a change in rulers. Moquihuix or Moquihuixtli was also a relatively young man of presentable appearance and good orating skills. No tension between the two neighboring cities seemed to accompany those changes. On the contrary, to strengthen their ties, a customary exchange of a marital nature had taken place. Axayacatl’s elder sister, ChalchiuhNenetzin, Noble Jade Doll, was offered to the Tlatelolco ruler and promptly accepted as his chief wife, bearing him a son upon the very first year of their marriage.
The lives of both island-cities went on as usual until, according to both Chimalpahin and Duran, a certain nobleman Teconal came to occupy the reed-woven chair and the office of the head adviser to the Tlatelolco ruler. Suddenly, Moquihuixtli became less enamored of the neighboring island’s capital, the rich influential giant growing by leaps and bounds, a somewhat threatening presence. According to both Duran and Chimalpahin, his royal wife of Tenochtitlan origins did not please him greatly, not anymore. A void that Teconal’s daughter had managed to fill, added to the collection of imperial wives, and probably promoted to the highest rank among those. Polygamy was a way of life for the Mesoamerican nobility, so what must have been angering Tenochtitlan royal house or, rather, its female representative in the Tlatelolco Palace, was the advancement of the new wife above the other.
Chimalpahin and Duran both report various different complaints Axayacatl’s sister was flooding her powerful brother with through the old nobleman Tepecocatzin, a Tlatelolcan high aristocrat with apparently certain sentiment for Tenochtitlan. And yet, the busy young emperor did not interfere. Not until several other incidents made him start glancing at the neighboring island with suspicion.
One day a newly dug canal across Tlatelolco was found partly filled with rubbish (according to Duran). The suspicious Tlatelolcans accused their powerful neighbors of ill will. Sometime later, again according to Duran, a group of young Tenochtitlan nobles were reported to harass, or even molest, Tlatelolcan noble girls. A complaint was lodged with the Tenochtitlan authorities, but it is unclear what came out of it.
The storm clouds kept gathering, and it was in this uneasy atmosphere that Moquihuixtli decided to hold a competition of young Tlatelolcan warriors described by Duran in great detail. More than two thousand men came, summoned to the central plaza in order to ‘practice arts of war,’ or so their ruler had put it. A stone statue in the image of a fully armed warrior was erected upon a podium, to be taken down by slingshots aimed from a close range. “... He who aims best at the statue will receive the honor and glory as the most outstanding warrior...” were Moquihuixtli’s alleged words, accompanied with the promise of a personal reward for the best shooter (Duran). The statue was shattered in no time, to be replaced by another warlike likeness, this time made out of wood. The warriors were required to take down the new target using their spears and bows, which they did, with ‘great skill and valor.’ The Tlatelolcan ruler was impressed, telling his warriors that he could not judge the winner, as no warrior outshone his peers.
The eventful day was finished with an improvised hunt upon the shores of the Great Lake, where plenty of waterfowl was spooked, with the warriors required to use their shooting devices but only on the birds in ‘full flight.’ Again, the Tlatelolcans had reportedly outdone themselves, receiving much praise and flowery speeches but no promised rewards, which seemed to satisfy everyone nevertheless. The warriors went home puzzled but happy. Moquihuixtli and Teconal remained less puzzled but full of ideas. The emperor’s closing speech, reported by Duran, gave a clear indication. ‘...Tlatelolcas, I have been well pleased to see your ability... if some day you must wage war against the enemy, you will know that their flesh is not stone, that it is not wood, and that since your intrepid arms break through wood and stone, how much easier will it be to destroy flesh. You will be like ferocious jaguars and pumas. I also want you to know that our enemies are not birds that can fly and can slip between one’s fingers. Today few flying birds slipped between your fingers. Therefore, have courage, for soon you will you have need of your hands, and Mexica-Tlatelolco will be honored and all the nations will be subjected to us. Tlatelolco will rejoice in all those things that had been Mexica-Tenochtitlan’s prerogative up to now...’
So has spoken Moquihuixtli through the dry moons of 1473, counting on the Tenochtitlan emperor’s youth and lack of experience, edged by Teconal, a reportedly wise man but a very ambitious, ruthless, and single-minded individual of great willpower. Not relying on his emperor’s pretty speeches or the valor of their young warriors alone, he had sent envoys to the Eastern Highlands, the towns that were not a part of the Triple Alliance’s vastly diverse relationships. However, the Highlanders answered with suspicious reserve and no commitments. They did not see the difference between the two Mexica-Aztec towns and did not wish to be involved in what might turn out to be nothing but a fishy plot.
Yet, at this point, the Tlatelolcans would not be budged.
In this first novel of the series, I outlined the beginning of the Tlatelolcan revolt. A few liberties were taken, but mainly with the fictional characters of the story, placing them at crucial points and important historical happenings, letting them rub their shoulders with historical characters, helping to push the story, and the history, along.
However, as with the case of young Ahuitzotl – a future remarkably famous eighth ruler of Tenochtitlan – I have taken the liberty of placing him alongside the fictional characters of his newfound friends, as of course no ancient historians would bother mentioning any possible antics of a ten-year-old youngest brother of an emperor. He must have been at school at this time, as imperial children were admitted to calmecac at such young ages as opposed to the rest of the nobility youth. Yet, judging by his future role in Tenochtitlan’s history and various sources describing his character’s traits – short-tempered and warlike, lavish, boisterous, courageous, loyal to his friends, and so on – he might have been as fierce and restless while back in school, up to no good in the way most leader-like boys can be, especially in a city faced with a crisis of nearly a civil war with its neighboring sister-nation. Ten years old or not, a person like Ahuitzotl would not likely allow himself to be left out of the activities.
His namesake water monster ahuitzotl is based on various accounts of local legends involving this particular beast. Many are guesses surrounding this legendary creature that dotted Nahua lore aplenty. The Spanish accounts used translate its name as a Water Dog, but this translation is far from being linguistically accurate. The first letter ‘a’ here is indeed standing for atl-water, but there end the similarities. No word meaning dog – chichi or itzcuintli – seems to be present in the word ahuitzotl, not even remotely. The closest interpretation I found plausible is the Water Spiny/Thorny One – again a for atl-water, huiz for huiztli-thorny/spiny (also south, relating to the spiny cactuses of the
region probably), and otl for yotl-to be like.
So with the canine ‘accusations’ safely out of the way, it still leaves us with many guesses as to who was this lethal creature with spiky fur, pointy ears, slick body, and black long tail upon which a ‘...hand like this of a person sprouts...’ (Florentine Codex). With this disproportionally long tail and the hand crowning it, the creature reportedly would grab its victims in order to pull them under the water until they drowned. Only then, it would feast on its prey’s eyes, teeth, and nails, and then let the body float again. In cases of such discoveries, only tlatoque, priests belonging to the worship of Tlaloc, the deity responsible for watery deaths, among his other vast responsibilities, were authorized to deal with the burials, special rites, and ceremonies of purification. Ahuitzotls were feared but rarely encountered to describe them in more detail.
The speculations as to the possible source of the legend are varied and contradicting. From opossums to dogs to otters to something completely legendary – the guesswork is lively and not convincing. For this novel, I picked the explanation that looked most plausible to me, namely an otter. Quick research on this relatively small water predator showed a violent streak, readiness to attack humans under certain circumstances, usually to protect their litter, disproportionally long and wide tails, even if those are not crowned with a human-like hand at its edge, and nicely fitting eating habits of the occasional scavenging of drowned bodies, with eyes, gums and fingertips being some of the temptingly softer parts. In addition to slick, oily fur, sharp teeth, and only the pointy ears not fitting the description, an average river otter certainly answers the criteria, even if roughly. So this animal was the one to give inspiration to certain scenes in this story.
Metallurgy was another interesting factor to explore. People of Central Mexico, while interested in creating copper and golden jewelry, ornaments and occasional tools, did not invest in their metalworking in the way people of Western Mexico or Yucatan did. Tenochtitlan dwellers seemed to prefer to import any such trinkets. Still toward the later years, the actual metalworking began to gain momentum, and workshops like that of Miztli’s employer started to dot the city until a guild of copper and gold smiths was organized, alongside traders and stone or feather workers’ organizations. A divine patron of metalworkers was Xipe Totec, a Flayed God that normally dealt with agricultural cycles, yet accepted offerings from its urban copper-melting subjects as well.
By the time of the Spanish arrival, about half a century later, production of metal objects and tools in Tenochtitlan and its provinces was greatly organized and vast. However, Miztli himself seemed to be destined to take another path.
What happened next can be read in the second book of The Aztec Chronicles, “Field of Fire”
“Obsidian Puma” is the first book in “The Aztec Chronicles” series:
Obsidian Puma
Field of Fire
Heart of the Battle
Warrior Beast
More on the earlier history of the region can be read in the “The Rise of the Aztecs” and “Pre-Aztec” series:
The Highlander
Crossing Worlds
The Emperor’s Second Wife
Currents of War
The Fall of the Empire
The Sword
The Triple Alliance
At Road’s End
The Young Jaguar
The Jaguar Warrior
The Warrior’s Way
Other works by this author include “The Peacemaker” and “People of the Longhouse” series and more.