Aztec

Home > Other > Aztec > Page 10
Aztec Page 10

by Colin Falconer


  ✽ ✽ ✽

  From the panicked reaction they had evinced Cortés had expected an army. But there were just five officials with a handful of attendants. Their cloaks were knotted at their shoulders with the imperial seals of Montezuma and they each held the royal crook of office in their right hands; with the other they kept flowers pressed to their noses, presumably to ward off the stink of their hosts. Attendants kept the flies from their faces with broad feathered fans while others held parasols to shade them from the sun.

  They made their way across the plaza, Gordo and the Totonac nobility fawning in their wake. They completely ignored Cortés and the Spaniards, although a small army of bearded strangers encamped in the centre of the town must have been the most remarkable thing they had ever witnessed in their lives.

  It was a deliberate snub, Cortés decided. Well, there was an answer for that.

  Cortés turned to Aguilar. "Ask the Lady Marina to find out what she can."

  "My Lord, I...”

  "Just do it, Brother Aguilar." The deacon was growing tiresome. Sometimes he wished he had left him on Cozumel with Norte. Cortés looked at Alvarado. "May they repent their arrogance! They walk right past us as if we are peasants in a field."

  "By Satan's hairy ass! I would like to teach them a lesson."

  "And we shall, I promise you."

  The Mexica had arrived at a propitious moment. Even now a plan was taking shape in his mind. Very soon he would start picking at the corners of this great foundation that the Mexica had built, see if he could break off a small piece with his fingers. If it came easily away, then the rest would surely follow, a piece at a time.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  All the Spaniards heard the keening that came from the fat cacique's palace. Malinali returned to report that Gordo himself had spent much of the interview with the newcomers on his knees, crying like a baby. The five Mexica, she reported, were imperial tax collectors, and although she could not hear all of what was said, it appeared they were demanding a heavy tribute from the Totonacs because they had entertained the Spaniards so lavishly, against Montezuma's express instructions.

  Cortés watched from the roof terrace as the Mexica noblemen left Gordo's palace, still clutching their nosegays. The Totonacs had prepared quarters for them on the other side of the plaza. The rooms had been decked with hundreds of flowers, Malinali reported, food had been prepared, servants provided.

  "Look at them," Alvarado snarled. "Like five bishops on their way to Mass."

  Cortés looked around for Malinali. She was waiting, unobtrusively, at his right shoulder. Her dark eyes glittered, intelligent and watchful. Ah, what an ally I have found here! he thought. And what a paradox. In this savage indian I have found more of a wife than I could ever have hoped for in any of the Spanish doñettas, with their fluttering fans and precious manners. All a man ever finds behind the black mantillas is perfumes and a pretty face.

  Aguilar saw the look that passed between Cortés and Malinali and scowled.

  What is it that troubles the young deacon? Cortés wondered. Does he fear her because she is a woman or because she is a naturale? "Ask the Lady Marina," he said to him, "why these people are so terrified of five unarmed men holding flowers."

  Aguilar did as he was told.

  "The woman says that it is not the five men they are frightened of, but the five thousand that will follow if they disobey them."

  Cortés frowned. "So they are more frightened of the Mexica than they are of us."

  "We should correct that impression," Alvarado said.

  "Indeed." He turned back to Aguilar. "Ask my Lady Marina to go back to the palace and request my lord Gordo's presence here. Immediately."

  Malinali

  Gordo's face glistens like a piece of sweating dough, and he wrings his hands like a woman. He is so frightened that if it were not for the slave boys who hold him upright his knees would collapse under him.

  I look at Feathered Serpent. His eyes are stern.

  He speaks softly to Aguilar.

  "My lord Cortés wants you to remind Gordo that he is a subject of King Charles of Spain and he has nothing to fear from the Mexica. If he does as Cortés commands he will be safe."

  I turn to Gordo, and tell him in Nahuatl: "Feathered Serpent says he will protect you. But you must do everything he says."

  "The Mexica have demanded twenty of our youths and girls for sacrifice because we have disobeyed Montezuma! They insist that three of my own children are among those surrendered to them!"

  "Feathered Serpent says you are under his protection now," I repeat, trying to be as patient with him as my lord.

  Gordo stares at me in panic. "Tell me what we must do."

  My lord whispers to Aguilar who appears to question his instructions, as if he cannot quite believe what he has heard. My lord's tone becomes impatient.

  "My lord Cortés wants you to tell him..." Aguilar hesitates. " ... tell him his men must seize the Mexica immediately, bind them and put them under guard."

  I convey my lord's words precisely and when Gordo hears them I fear he is about to faint away. His pageboys grunt and struggle to keep him from sinking completely to the floor. His face has the look of a cornered animal. "I cannot!" he shouts at me, his voice shrill.

  "You must do as Feathered Serpent commands."

  "Montezuma will slaughter us all!"

  What a spineless coward. Does he not realise he has the power of a god to help him now? "He refuses," I tell Aguilar.

  Feathered Serpent leaps to his feet and his anger is terrible to see. "My lord Cortés says that if he does not do as he commands, he will leave immediately and never return!” Aguilar is so agitated he almost shouts his translation to me. "It is Gordo’s choice. But if he wants to save the lives of his children and free himself from the Mexica, then he must do as he says!"

  I round on Gordo and now I am shouting, too. "You see! You have angered Feathered Serpent! Unless you do as he asks he will return to the Cloud Lands and your sons and daughters will have their hearts ripped out on Montezuma's altars!"

  Gordo makes a noise as if he is choking.

  "Well? Any moment Feathered Serpent will leave here and sail back to the East. What is your decision?"

  Chapter 21

  The Mexica were bound to long poles, hand and foot, like the carcasses of wild deer. Their eyes wide, they grunted protests through the rags in their mouths. Totonacs rushed from all over the plaza for a glimpse of this terrifying and extraordinary spectacle.

  Cortés himself watched from the parapet of their quarters with Alvarado, Puertocarrero and the rest of his officers. Gordo stood beside him, his jaw slack with terror. He said something to Malinali, who relayed it to Aguilar.

  "He wants to sacrifice them immediately," Aguilar said. "He believes that once they are dead there is less chance that Montezuma will discover what has happened."

  Cortés shook his head. "They are to be kept alive. I may wish to question them later. Tell him to separate them, and put them under close arrest. I will send men to help guard them." Cortés felt a fire of excitement in his belly. At last, he was in control of things. "Also, tell him that he is now free. No more of his sons and daughters will die on Montezuma's altars and there will be no more tax collectors to steal his possessions. From now on, I regard him as my own brother and he should put his trust only in me!"

  Malinali

  There is a feeling of pride and exhilaration as I have never experienced before. Finally it has happened and his righteous fury is as magnificent as I had imagined. The Feathered Serpent has returned to break the hold of the Mexica and I shall be a part of it, as my father promised.

  "Enjoy this moment, Little Mother," a voice whispers in my ear. "Before Sister Moon rises a second time we will all be on our way to the temple stone in Tenochtitlán!"

  It is Rain Flower. What will it take to convince her?

  "He is a god."

  "He is not a god, he is a madman." Her hand reach
es for mine. She is frightened. I press her hand tightly, try to pass on some of my own strength, my own confidence in him. I know this in my heart; we are witnessing not only the end of the Fifth Sun, but the dawn of a new and blood-red day.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Puertocarrero shakes me roughly awake. It is deep into the Fifth Watch of the night but he is fully dressed. He indicates to me that I am to follow him. I rise from the sleeping mat, put on a skirt and tunic, and follow him down the cloister. Shadows dance in the flickering torches of pitch-pine on the walls.

  We stop outside my lord's private chamber. Puertocarrero pulls me inside.

  I look around, still only half-awake, at the bearded faces of the thunder gods, dressed in their golden armour, torchlight glinting dully on their steel pikes and swords. My lord sits behind a heavy wooden table in the middle of the room, several of these other lords around him, Aguilar too.

  He looks up and gives me a gentle smile of encouragement. Three of the Mexica tax gatherers stand in front of the table with heavy wooden collars around their necks. Not so haughty now. Their hands are roped behind their backs, their eyes lowered to the floor in shame for their condition.

  But what are they doing here? What is happening?

  Aguilar, looking pale and pious, is first to speak. "My lord Cortés wants you to ask these men who they are, where they are from and why they were seized by the Totonacs."

  "But he knows the answer to all those questions."

  "Just do as he says!"

  I hate it when he speaks to me this way. But I obey. I address myself to the one by whose cloak and adornments I judge to be the highest ranking of the three here. "Feathered Serpent wishes to know who you are, and why you are here. He also asks why the Totonáca have taken you as their prisoner."

  The man raises his head and regards me down the length of his parrot's-beak nose. Still too proud for his own good. He resents being addressed by a woman. "We are calpisqui - tribute gatherers - of the great Montezuma. As to why we were taken prisoner - and you will all suffer tenfold for our humiliations - it was done at the behest of your great lord!"

  What is the point of this charade? I wonder. My lord knows all this. But I dutifully translate the calpisqui's reply for Aguilar.

  He confers with Cortés, then says to me: "My lord Cortés answers that he certainly did not know what the Totonacs were planning. But when he learned that they were preparing to sacrifice their Mexica prisoners to their gods he decided to intervene. Tell him this is because Cortés considers Montezuma a friend, for he knows he is a great lord like himself and has sent him many gifts."

  Well. What am I to make of this? But it is not for me to fathom the mind of a god. I instead take great pleasure in seeing the Mexicans blanche when I mention the Totonacs' planned 'sacrifice.' How fitting it would be to see you three stretched across a slab!

  "The Totonáca told us that our capture was executed on the orders of your lord," the calpisqui answers, though he seems less sure of himself now.

  When Aguilar repeats this to Feathered Serpent, he contrives to look mystified.

  Aguilar turns back to me. "My lord Cortés says the Totonacs must be a perfidious and devious people, for he certainly knew nothing about it."

  I stare at the Feathered Serpent. His face is blank and he will not meet my gaze. Why should he lie about this? But once again, I convey his words exactly as Aguilar has spoken them.

  The Mexica seem as mystified as myself. One of them says to his fellows: Perhaps he is telling the truth. Why else would he have gained our freedom for us?

  While they are debating among themselves, I turn back to Aguilar. "What is happening here?"

  "You do not have to know, you are only here to translate."

  Oh, may you be buggered by a leprous porcupine! Do not deign to speak to me this way! I am more, much more, than translator for Feathered Serpent - as we both know!

  Feathered Serpent whispers something to Aguilar, who turns back to me with a silken smile. I know what you have been trying to do, the smile says, but I am still his confidante. You are just an indian and an outsider. "Tell them my lord Cortés is pained to see their austere selves brought to such straits. As they are servants of the great Montezuma and have been arrested with no just cause, they are to be released immediately. Furthermore, he places himself completely at their disposal."

  As I tell them this, the thunder gods step forward and release the thongs at their wrists and remove the heavy wooden collars around their necks. For the second time this day the Mexica are taken quite by surprise.

  The calpisqui turns to me. "Thank your lord for his service," he says, as bewildered as I am. "But tell him that although he has freed us, we cannot leave. The Totonáca will snatch us again as soon as we walk from your protection through the doors of this palace."

  It seems my lord is prepared for their answer and Aguilar already has instructions on how to respond to it. "Tell them they should not fear. Our soldiers will remove them to the coast, disguised in Spanish capes, and they will then be escorted out of Totonac territory aboard one of our ships. They can then go about their business in peace. All my lord Cortés asks is that when he stands once again in the pleasing presence of the lord Montezuma he shall remind him that Cortés is his friend."

  I convey this to them, but I stumble over this last sentiment. How to tell the Emperor of the Mexica that Feathered Serpent, the traditional enemy of Montezuma's own gods, is actually an ally? I am sure Aguilar must be mistaken. But I convey his words as best as I am able and leave the calpisqui to make of it what he can.

  The three Mexica tax-gatherers are ushered from the chamber. Suddenly all the thunder gods are grinning at each other. I stare at them, confused. Why should my lord release these monsters and so betray Gordo, who placed himself in his trust? Why are they so pleased with what has been done?

  Feathered Serpent turns to me and I detect another curious smile, allowing further conspiracy between us, but then Puertocarrero has hold of my arm and is ushering me out of the chamber.

  I cannot help but wonder what Gordo will say when he discovers that three of his Mexica prisoners are gone. I wish, again, that I could speak the language of the gods and know what he plans to do. He is surely as unpredictable as a god.

  The one thing I am sure of; he is no friend to Montezuma.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The next day Gordo is the shell of the man who met us in the plaza just a few days before. He stands quivering before Cortés like a fresh heart in a bowl.

  I pass his first utterances to Aguilar, who then whispers to Feathered Serpent. On hearing what Gordo has to say my lord rises from his chair in a rage, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. "What! You let them escape? Were all your guards asleep?"

  The cacique is trying to explain to me that he does not understand how it has happened and that those responsible have already suffered the consequences; their hearts are roasting in a brazier at this very moment. But my lord does not wait for my translation. After all, he knows far better than Gordo how the escape was managed. During the first watch of the night Guzman and Flores approached the Totonac guards with a jar of Cuban wine, which Gordo's men found very pleasant. When the Spaniards returned two hours later they were snoring like pigs. The three Mexica prisoners had then been led away, still bound.

  But now my lord paces the room like a caged animal, beating his fist into the palm of his hand. I know his rage is feigned and I wonder at the reason for his perfidy.

  "My lord Cortés says this is an unmitigated disaster," Aguilar is saying to me. "Tell this dog he must hand over the other prisoners to us immediately for he obviously cannot be trusted. We will put them in chains and have them transferred to one of our ships."

  Gordo agrees. Of course. Anything the great lord desires.

  "My lord Cortés also insists," Aguilar adds, while my lord raves on the other side of the room, "that Gordo must this day swear allegiance to himself and the King of Spain, his most catho
lic majesty, Charles the Fifth, in the presence of the royal notary. He must also agree to join forces with us against the Mexica, placing all his warriors at his disposal. Should he fail to do either of these things, he shall abandon him to his fate."

  Suddenly I understand what has been done. I am overcome with admiration. He is indeed a god, for he can wear so many disguises so well. He has played this Gordo like a flute.

  I convey my lord's terms to the Totonac chieftain: he is to place himself utterly at Feathered Serpent's command. There is a long and deathly silence as the cacique imagines the consequences if he should now be left to face Montezuma’s wrath alone. He nods his acquiescence so vigorously his jowls shake.

  "Well?" Aguilar asks.

  "He agrees," I say. "You have given him no choice."

  Chapter 22

  Tenochtitlán

  On occasions of national importance the Supreme Council of the Mexica gathered in the House of the Eagle Knights, inside the Great Temple complex. The room was furnished with low stone benches, decorated with carved reliefs of serpents and warriors. A clay brazier fashioned into the likeness of the god Tlaloc, Rain Maker, warmed the room. Mictlantecuhtli, the god of the dead, his bones protruding through his clay flesh, watched over the deliberations of these emperors and kings, reminding them of the ephemeral nature of life and power.

  Montezuma presided over the gathering, as always. Beside him was Woman Snake, his Prime Minister. Also in attendance was his nephew, Lord Maize Cobs, the king of Texcoco; and Montezuma's brother and heir, Cuitlahuac, the Lord of Ixtapalapa. The chief priests of the temple and the most senior Jaguar and Eagle Knights had also been ordered to this council. All of these great nobles and priests wore only robes of plain maguey fibre in the presence of their Emperor, who was himself resplendent in a turquoise cloak of the finest cotton, decorated with a pattern of writhing serpents.

  Pine torches crackled on the walls.

 

‹ Prev