Casca 10: The Conquistador

by Barry Sadler

  As he prepared his gifts, there were many men being held by the Cempolans as sacrifices. Even he had not been able to halt their practices completely and was wise enough to wait and try to convince them through other arguments later. The best he could do was to get the Cempolans to release four of the sacrifices to his custody and send them along with the treasure to Spain under the watchful eyes of two trusted deputies, Alonso de Ortocarrero and Francisco de Montejo. They carried the treasure and his letter, requesting his highness to proclaim officially that Cortes was, in the king's name, to be governor of the lands he had delivered to the throne of Spain.

  The ship left Vera Cruz on July 26, 1519, making certain they avoided Havana and the power of Diego Velasquez. Cortes's old enemy, who was lieutenant governor of Cuba, would have taken the ship and gained the credit for winning the treasure for himself.

  Even in the camp of Cortes, there were some who were more loyal to Diego than they were to Cortes and attempted to spread sedition, saying that Cortes had made himself leader by bribes and trickery and that Diego was the legitimate authority of the new lands, just as he was of Cuba.

  Cortes responded quickly, arresting the ringleaders and holding them prisoner on board ship. Some time later, when he thought things had calmed down a bit, he released them. But they started to give him trouble again. Cortes discovered that they were plotting to seize a brigantine, kill its master, and sail to Cuba to inform Diego Velasquez of what Cortes was attempting to do and of the treasure ship he had sent to Spain.

  For the first time, Cortes had to act against his own men. After a quick trial, he hanged Juan Escudero and the pilot Diego Cermeno and had several others whipped. These actions did nothing to reduce the respect that his men held for him, for men of strength respect strength.

  After this, he knew that it was time for him to move on again so that there would be less time for any of them to consider such treason again. He would wait no longer; it was time to enter the heartland of the Aztecs.

  He was concerned about the men he would have to leave behind to garrison Vera Cruz. When he was not there, who could tell what would happen to them or the actions they might be seduced into taking by the fearful and weak of spirit? From history, he recalled the actions of Alexander when he landed on the coast of Persia. He burned his ships, leaving his men no choice but to go forward and in the process found a great empire.

  After removing their guns, sails, ropes, and anything else that could be of use, he sank his ships. There was some grumbling over this, but he soothed their feelings with stories of the prizes they would take, which would make them all as rich as princes. The words were sweet, and the Spaniards had no choice in the matter. For now they had no way to return, and without Cortes's leadership and influence over the Indians, they knew that their chances of survival would be reduced severely. They would go with him all the way to the City of Mexico and beyond.

  He left Vera Cruz to the care of Pedro de Ircio, who owed his life to his captain. Pedro would be secure with his men at hand and the fifty thousand warriors he could draw upon from his Indian allies.

  Cortes returned to Cempola. When he left this time, he had convinced their king to cast down his idols and take up the true cross as his symbol, promising him that if they did this, they would have his continued support against the Aztecs, although he might remove that support if they did not. Tazcamili gave him a thousand men as porters and several hostages of noble blood as tokens of his good faith, which Cortes willingly accepted. The porters would be used to haul the heavy guns and provisions, leaving his men with little to wear them down, save their personal weapons and armor.

  After giving Cempola the new name of Sevilla, he began his march to Mexico, leading four hundred Spaniards, fifteen horses, three small guns, and three hundred Indian warriors, including several nobles.

  The march had begun. Once they left the fertile lands of the coast behind, they entered a barren and sterile land where the water was bad, tasting of strong salts. For three days they had to pass through this region to reach the mountain valley of Zacotlan, a vassal state of Moctezuma ruled over by Olintetl, a noble lord who thought that the Spaniards must be friends of his master. To honor the occasion of their arrival, he sacrificed fifty men, an act which the Spaniards were hard put not to stop with some killing of their own. From the lord Olintetl, Cortes learned that there were regular garrisons of five thousand warriors spread out in stations all the way to Tenochtitlan, and Moctezuma had thirty vassal lords, each of whom had one hundred thousand warriors at his command and countless lesser lords such as himself who could muster only twenty or thirty thousand. Each year they sacrificed twenty thousand men and women, a fact he boasted of, for it proved the piety of the Aztecs. At special times it could go as high as fifty thousand.

  Cortes had known that Moctezuma was a great king, but not to this extent. If Olintetl was telling the truth, and there was no reason to believe otherwise, the Aztecs could field three million warriors, a larger army than even the greatest kings of Europe could command. If he had been a lesser man, he would have turned back, satisfied with his gains; but he was committed, and now he would use a lesson not from Alexander but from Caesar in order to win. He would divide and conquer, trusting, as he had with the Cempolans, that there were still many more of the subject states that could be brought over to his side with the promise of independence and aid – that and the fact that the communications were so poor in a land with no horses. He could strike and be at the next place before word of his actions could be acted on by the enemy.

  He moved on, leaving Olintetl thinking that he was their good friend, and rapidly went into action, taking on first the Tlaxcalans, one of the few independent neighbors of the Aztecs who ruled themselves, paying no tribute to any lords but their own. If he could beat them, he would have a much better chance of making the lesser tribes his willing partners.

  It was a hard fight in which he lost two horses and had a number of his men wounded, but once again the Good Lord was with them and no Spaniards died in battle. He wondered how long his luck could hold. The Cempolans and his other allies fought bravely. It was very doubtful that the Spaniards could have won on their own. By the first week of September, they had defeated the Tlaxcalan armies, who had boasted that they would sacrifice the strangers to their gods and feast on "heavenly flesh," as they called human meat. Possibly they might have dined on the Castilians, if not for the cannon and the horses, which had their usual effect on the savages.

  In the last battle, The Tlaxcalans' pride and arrogance were nearly overbearing, for they mocked the Spaniards and their allies, saying: "What fools and contemptible men are these, who threaten us without knowing our strength, who dare to come to our lands without our permission and against our will." When the Tlaxcalans saw that the Spanish were fatigued, they laughed and made sport, saying: "Let them rest, for we shall have time to take and tie them. Send them food, lest they claim they were weak from hunger as the reason that we were able to take them." And they did send food to their enemy, who consumed it eagerly.

  The Tlaxcalans, as with all the Indians of the new lands, made at least one critical error in their fighting techniques. The Indians fought to take captives for their altars. There was not as much glory in killing a man as in taking him alive. The Spanish and their allies were not bothered by such conventions. They killed and killed only, as Cortes ordered them.

  The Tlaxcalans were well equipped with shields and armor of wood and leather, spears and lances, bows and arrows, the flint or obsidian-lined macama, and swords of hard wood. They painted their faces bright scarlet, looking like red-faced, feathered devils.

  The fighting lasted over a week, and every day at the same time the Tlaxcalans would send food to their enemy. The last time, they also sent spies with the servants who delivered the food. These were sent back to their masters with their hands cut off.

  Every day it was the turn of a different Tiaxcalan army to do battle with the Spanish, and ever
y day it was the same result. The enemy still held the field, and they had lost many more than the strangers. If the Tlaxcalans had used their forces in concert instead of piecemeal, they would have had little trouble eliminating the invaders. But each detachment was under the command of its own chieftain who did not wish to share his glory with any other.

  They bled themselves dry and accomplished nothing until superstitious fear began to ride their thoughts, growing greater in their minds with each failure until they began to believe that their gods had deserted them. Once this happened, it was only a matter of days before messengers came to the Spanish camp, pleading for a treaty in which most of the Tlaxcalan cities would swear to be the good and great friends of the Spaniards and their king.

  Cortes granted this, as he did not wish to tie up his men in fighting the Tlaxcalans. They would be needed later in Mexico. He made his treaty and gained another two thousand porters and a thousand warriors to add to his force. After their treaty, Cortes used his tactic of gentle treatment to make them into allies. As with most savages, once it was proved who were their better, they readily accepted whoever sat upon their necks as their lords.

  Cortes's confidence was not shared by all his men, who, once they saw the tenacity of the Tlaxcalans and their numbers, began to grumble, afraid that they would never get back alive. The rumors began to spread until Cortes had to draw his company together away from the Indians and speak to them.

  He stroked his beard as he looked over his soldiers, watching their eyes and body movements. He just waited, watching, saying nothing until they started shuffling their feet in embarrassment. Then he began, his voice strong and confident:

  "Gentlemen and friends, I chose you as my companions and you chose me as your captain for the service of God and the increase of His holy faith and also for the service of our king and even for our own profit. I, as you have observed, have not failed or offended you; nor indeed have you done so to me up to this point. Now, however, I sense a weakening among some of you and a little taste to finish the war we have on our hands, a war which, with the help of God, we have now concluded. At least we now know how little harm it can do us. We have partly seen the good we shall gain from it, although what you shall see henceforth will be greater beyond comparison, so much so that it passes my thought and words. Fear not, my companions, to come with me, for never yet have Spaniards been afraid in these new lands which by their courage, strength, and cunning they have conquered and discovered; nor do I entertain such a thought of you. God forbid that I should think or that anyone should believe that my Spaniards would be afraid or disobedient to their captain! One must never turn one's back on the enemy, lest it appear to be a retreat. There is no retreat or, to put it more mildly, no withdrawal which does not bring grief to those who make it, for they shall know shame, hunger, loss of friends and their wealth and arms, and lastly death, which is not the worst of them, for infamy endures forever."

  He paused to watch the effect of his words. Satisfied that he had them where he wanted them, he pressed on:

  "If we abandon this country, this war, this adventure that we have undertaken, and turn back, then shall we not lose our honor? Did you think that in another place you would find easier wealth and fewer enemies?

  "Never since we came to this land have we, thank God, lacked for food and friends, gold and honor. You can see how these people hold you to be more than mortal men, almost gods. With all their numbers and arms, they have not succeeded in slaying a single one of you. Now listen to me. We have no way back. Ahead of us is Mexico, where Moctezuma resides among riches impossible to calculate. Persevere and we shall have it all: serfs and vassals to do our bidding, gold, silver, precious gems, pearls, and above all, the honor due us from the rest of the world as Spaniards. The greater the king, the greater the enemy, the greater the land, so much greater shall be our glory.

  "So then have no fear, and never doubt our final victory, for most of the distance is behind you. You have vanquished the Tlaxcalans, who numbered over a hundred thousand warriors and are said to be as fierce as the Aztecs. With the help of God we shall finish off the few who still oppose us and march on to the final glory for our god, our king, and Spain!"

  The conquistadors roared their approval until their faces turned red and sweaty under their steel helmets. Now if one wished to speak of turning back, he could do it only at the risk of his life. Cortes had turned their fears into courage and lust for the wealth of Mexico, and they would not be denied. They were ready to move on ever closer to the heartland of the greatest of the Indian kingdoms and the most elusive treasure of all – Moctezuma!

  Among those who cheered the loudest was Juan de Castro. He had the beginnings of a full dark beard and had put on weight since Casca had walked off. The life of a conquistador suited him, and he had gained the respect of his peers for courage and swordplay. He now belonged with the elite caballeros who had horses. As he was known to have been the missing man's sword-mate, there were no objections when he was given his horse. Juan no longer believed that his absent compadre would return. He had paid the priests to say a mass for him and had lit candles in his name.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Moctezuma tried to hide the truth of their coming, but at last he knew that he could not resist his fate any further, especially when his chamberlain told him, "My king, they are coming. They have defeated the Tlaxcalans without the loss of a man and have made them their servants, adding the forces of the Tlaxcalan to their own. They have only yesterday destroyed Cholula, putting its people to the sword when they resisted them."

  Moctezuma nearly wept as his chamberlain continued his tale of woe. "Oh, my king, they are the most terrible beings, with their strange weapons of thunder and fire and their small bows that can send an arrow completely through the body of a strong man and have enough power to kill another behind him. My lord, they must be gods.

  "The Cholutecas resisted them, as they have long been enemies of the Tlaxcalans. They put their faith in the god Quetzalcoatl. They made magic and cast spells and sent warnings to these ‘gods’ to pass them by, for they were not as weak as the sodomite Tlaxcalans, who are now no more than women for the use of the ‘gods.’ "

  His chamberlain shivered with the impact of his own words. "They were very brave, my king, to resist with such courage those from the sea. They told the strangers that they were protected by the great god Queztalcoatl. The priests promised the ‘gods’ that if they came to Cholula, they would be destroyed by bolts of fire from the heavens and the Pyramid of the God would open up to pour forth rivers of water to drown them as though they were rats in a jar.

  "To protect themselves from drowning, priests scraped away the surface layer of the pyramid to let loose the waters. Then they made great magic by making a mortar by mixing the blood from children of two or three years of age with lime. With this they would be able to plug up the holes from which the floods of the god would come.

  "In their pride and confidence, they met the envoy who served the ‘gods’, a chief of the Tlaxcalans named Patlhuatzin. Their answer to his pleas for peace and welcome for the ‘gods’ was to flay the skin from his face and arms. His hands they cut so that they dangled by strips of skin from his wrists, and they sent him back as their response."

  At this news Moctezuma could not restrain a moan of fear. Envoys and messengers had always had privileged status and were not to be hurt or killed.

  Dropping to his knees, with his hands covering his eyes, his chamberlain finished the tale of Cholula. "When this was done, the ‘gods’ and their traitor allies came forth to do battle. Their weapons of white iron cut through those of Cholula as if they were made of green reeds. Their fierce dogs savaged all they could reach, and their weapons shot fire and thunder into the houses of the gods, killing many. When the priests attempted to let loose the flood of the god, it did not come. Nor was there fire from heaven to strike down the pale ones. The god Quetza had turned his face from them, and in their despair, hundreds
committed suicide by throwing themselves head first from the top of the temples to the stones, smashing their brains out. Great was the slaughter of the Cholutecas, and their city was put to the torch and plundered. Cholula is no more, my king!"

  Tears ran down the face of Moctezuma. Had the god turned his face because they had broken the old laws of the people of Teotihuacan and made human sacrifice? Were the pale ones the manifestations of the god or just his servants? And what of the scar-faced one who waited in the City of the Gods to see him? He was not as other men.

  At last Moctezuma could not put it off any longer. He told his chamberlain to rise. "Go to Teotihuacan and say to the pale one there that I wish to see him. Take him gifts of gold and silver, for pale ones love these things greatly, and ask him to come to me with all haste, for we have much to speak of."

  The chamberlain bowed his way back out to do his master's bidding, though he did not like it. His king was on the ragged edge of panic.

  Casca was brought to the Aztec king in his private chambers. His retainers and servants were dismissed, leaving the two men facing each other. Moctezuma was wondering what he was going to say to the scar-faced man. The ice was broken by Casca when he spoke to him in the Nahual tongue:

  "Tectli, I have returned, true to my words spoken those centuries ago when I ruled as lord of Teotihuacan." Casca moved closer to the king. "Is not my mask still in its resting place in the hall at the base of the temple of the serpent? Have you looked upon its face? If so, then look at mine!"

  Moctezuma covered his eyes, remembering the night on the pyramid and the vision in the storm. "No," he cried. "You cannot be he whose coming was foretold." He forced himself to look at the stranger's face, examining it inch by inch. There was a resemblance. He still tried to fight the proof of his senses and forced out the words, "I must have more than a memory and a dream." Moctezuma cried out for the priest Ceypal to be brought to him. As they waited, Casca could see the fear that was eating the heart of the king.