They were being introduced one by one, each introduction taking an impressive amount of time as all the huitl’s names, titles, and accomplishments were read aloud. Sha’di remembered every time he’d had to endure that for only a single huitl. Now faced with thirty in a row, he debated skipping the feast and leaving, but the huitls didn’t seem to mind having to wait. They were all jovial, admiring the beautiful carvings on the walls, or the silver fish darting beneath the flowers floating in pools of water resting beneath the skylights.
The only thing Sha’di could focus on was the young girl sitting on the throne in the centre of the room. She looked even more bored than he imagined he ever had while listening to these pompous introductions. Chief of so and so pyramid, his colours blah blah, protector of whatever, and on and on. At one point she gave a great sigh, not even trying to hide it, and perhaps even exaggerating it. The huitl’s face turned bright red and he hurried his servant to finish his introduction. Sha’di nearly laughed but managed to keep himself quiet by quickly eating a sweet slice of melon.
“Here,” Belam appeared from the crowd holding two wooden cups filled with dark red wine. “You’ll never taste finer wine in all the world.”
“This is ri…ridi…stupid,” Sha’di motioned to the line. Only about five of the thirty huitls had finished their introductions. “This will take all day and the next.”
Belam laughed. “Drink your wine and the time will pass.”
Sha’di took a sip, and was taken aback for a moment. It really was unlike anything he’d ever taste before. The wine was strong, but not overwhelmingly so. It was just so rich with flavour that even with a tiny sip, he thought he could taste a hundred different fruit on his tongue. Belam saw his expression and only laughed louder.
“See, we will have a fine day today.”
“I thought that was your laugh, friend,” Tenok was by their side, clapping Belam on the shoulder, a relieved smile on his face.
“Your meeting was good? You don’t looked worried,” Sha’di said, taking another sip and looking around for a servant with a flagon who could refill his soon to be empty cup.
“It went fine. She hates me.” A servant with a flagon walked past, and Tenok quickly reached over and took the entire vessel from him, refilling all their cups himself. “I think I even managed to endear poor Maarku to her. This mess of a business went as well as it could have. Look.”
They followed Tenok’s gaze to the throne. He saw the familiar face of Maarku standing at the head of the line and beside him his father. The two had nearly identical dress, copper piercings and armbands, and copper headdresses with feathers that had been dyed the same shiny colour. They looked like statues that had been placed before Huwamanpellpe. But, while Maarku had a strong chin and deep-set eyes, giving him a mysterious allure, his father had an overbite and the skin on his face drooped slightly with age.
“Matlali-huitl, Ixk’inmetzuhuitl. He who Mines the Earth, He who Adorns Himself in the Earth’s Tears,” the elderly servant presenting them droned on.
Sha’di couldn’t help but notice that Maarku no longer held himself with the cocky surety he’d had during the feast at Anteana-nech’o but now looked subdued. Was he as frightened as Tenok had been at the thought of having to watch his children become Royal Sacrifices? Of course he was. He felt the discomfort of guilt over having said anything to influence this. He should have let it play out how it was meant to. Maarku was as disagreeable a person as he’d ever met, but that didn’t give him the right to condemn his children.
For the first time Huwamanpellpe sat up straight with interest, looking the handsome man over. Looking around, Sha’di thought maybe Tenok was right; maybe Maarku was the best-looking among them. Maybe Huwamanpellpe would have noticed him no matter what Sha’di had told the lords.
“Maarku-chakatl,” Huwamanpellpe spoke. Her voice was soft but commanded the entire room, and all became quiet. Sha’di even felt like his very breathing might disturb the atmosphere. “I’ve heard a great many things about you.”
Matlalihuitl’s face darkened, “Yes, I’m sure there are many who wish to gossip of others,” and his face turned, finding Tenok in the crowd.
To his credit, Maarku did not look bitter like his father. He stepped forward with a smile on his face. “I pray the news that reached you was good,” the expression he had must have softened the hearts of a thousand women, but while Huwamanpellpe’s eyes no doubt looked interested, she didn’t look charmed by him. This was a look he’d seen elderly Rhagepe giving a man they were sizing up to judge his worth.
“Come,” she nodded to one of the women by her side, who walked behind the throne, only to emerge a moment later with a small wooden stool she placed by the foot of the throne. “Sit by me. I wish to know you better.”
“You do me great honour,” he bowed his head low, looking for a moment like Xupama as he scraped the ground with his headdress in an effort to please his betters.
“What did you say to her?” Belam asked Tenok as the next huitl stepped forward for his introduction, and the casual conversations around the hall began anew.
“Nothing really, but the huitls have had their servant’s whispering to her servant’s, going on and on about Maarku and the other five you mentioned in your dream. But since I made sure to let her know how much the two of us didn’t get along, I’m sure that raised him slightly higher in her regard.”
Belam laughed and they refilled their cups. Sha’di lost count of how many cups they’d had by the time the introductions were complete and the feast was ready. They moved into another hall, equally as grand, but this one had four long tables covered with enough food to feed the entire city for a year. One table was set on a dais, and it was there that Huwamanpellpe sat with Maarku at her side, as well as Tixok, Yupanchi, and Atzayako, who Tenok begrudgingly went to sit next to.
The three other tables were arranged in a triangle, one table for the Lords of the Valley, one for the Lords of the Fields, and one for the Old Lords. Sha’di knew he could have sat with Tenok at the high table, but he chose to stay with Belam and the other servants. They sat wherever they could—some on cushions or stools, others just on the floor, and many were dancing and singing along with the musicians. Everything was a blur of food and drink. At one point at Belam’s urging, Sha’di got out his lure and had Nnenne fly about the room a few times. Even the huitls applauded at that.
Sha’di and Belam were both very drunk when the room suddenly became silent. Everyone turned to see Huwamanpellpe standing at her table. She looked over the crowd, seeming to make eye contact with everyone before she spoke. Most people received barely a glance, but when her eyes found his she paused for a moment. With his red hair and Ancestral Cloak, she must have known he was a Whisperer. What had she heard about him? Did she think he had come to convince her to marry? Her expression gave none of her thoughts away.
She smiled at her guests, the well-rehearsed smile of a gracious host. “I think it’s time for some entertainment, don’t you?”
The crowd gave a drunken cheer to show their approval.
“Tenok-huitl,” she turned to him, and his face immediately drained of colour. There was something about her expression that made Sha’di think she very much wanted to embarrass him. Had Tenok done slightly too good of a job getting her to hate him? “I hear you are quite the wrestler.”
Instead of the honest humility Sha’di had come to know his friend for, Tenok gave his best impression of Maarku’s cocky grin, and he stood up with a great flourish. From his slight sway, Sha’di could tell a few too many glasses of wine encouraged him to act maybe more outlandishly than he’d intended.
“Oh yes, oh beautiful Huwamanpellpe. I am quite famous at Chultunyu.”
His father, Atzayako, raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, clearly wondering where this version of his son had come from. Belam buried his face in his hands trying not to laugh out loud while Sha’di just looked on, feeling embarrassed for his friend.
“Is anyone brave enough to challenge Tenok-huitl?” she called out to the hall.
A moment of silence followed before Belam stood up, smiling broadly. “For your honour, my Ellpe, let me challenge Tenok-huitl!”
Everyone cheered their approval.
“Are you sure?” Sha’di asked quickly.
“I’m not sure how the mighty warrior Tenok wants to play this game, but I know I’m the only person who will let him win or lose depending on his wishes,” Belam said quickly and then bounded forward.
Tenok got up, and the two met in front of the main table, the crowd parting to give them space.
“What of their sacrifice?” Matlalihuitl, shining in copper, called out in his frail voice.
Huwamanpellpe turned to her guest of honour, Maarku. “Wrestling was your idea. What sacrifice would you have to honour me?”
Maarku stood up, smiling and waving. “There is only one sacrifice that would honour an Ellpe, a living god, in this most sacred of all pyramids. The life of the victor.”
Silence. Deep, rendering silence.
Sha’di was confused. Had he understood that right? Surely not. Surely he was too drunk, and Maarku was speaking too fast. Maarku did have a rather strange accent to his ears and, and, and what did he mean by life anyway? The look Belam and Tenok gave each other was clarification enough, first confusion…and then sadness.
Huwamanpellpe’s smile was gone, replaced by the coldness of stone. “Sacrifice,” she whispered dully. “They always demand sacrifice.”
She turned back to the crowd and her practiced smile came back, though it did seem slightly more strained than before.
“If sacrifice is what you will, then sacrifice you shall have,” she said and quickly sat down.
The crowd cheered, an insane, drunken cheer. This was a cheer he’d heard many times from these people the moment a heart was ripped from a living man’s chest and offered to the gods. Was it really the gods demanding sacrifice, or was it their bloodlust that needed sating?
“No,” Sha’di whispered, his whole body feeling numb. The life of the victor… but the victor had to be Tenok or Belam. “No!”
Sha’di tried to push forward, but everyone else did at the same time, trying to get closer and see the fight to the death. Did they know the two men were from the same pyramid? That they had travelled there together? Faced death together? Grown from boys together?
“Begin!” Sha’di heard Maarku call out, but the head table was blocked from his view now as the crowd around him was taller and their arms were held high in the air. He could barely make out the faces of Belam and Tenok. Belam had taken hold of Tenok’s face, pressed their foreheads together. Belam was saying something, and Sha’di could just make out Tenok shaking his head before he felt someone pushing him down in an attempt to get a better view.
In a fury, Sha’di began to elbow and shove his way through the hot, foul-smelling bodies. He heard a few angry words, and got a few rather violent kicks in return, but he didn’t care. He had to get to them. Maybe he could stop this. Maybe he could pull them apart and—and what? Say the gods forbade this? Maybe, Atzayako would listen and do something to save his son.
He was nearly at the front of the crowd, he could see the two of them a little better. They had already begun, and both had a defiant look on their faces. Were they trying to win…or trying to lose? Had they turned on each other? Every man for himself? He tried to break through the crowd, but the men in front had linked their arms and he was getting violent jabs every time he tried to get through.
Belam had gotten Tenok to the ground and had him trapped in a headlock.
“Don’t! Stop!” he hollered, but no one listened.
“I won’t let you!” Tenok screamed and twisted his body. Before Belam could react, Tenok had somehow managed to bend back Belam’s arm and slip out, kicking his legs out and trying to wrap them around Belam’s neck.
“You’ve never beaten me, and you won’t today,” Belam said, and nearly smiled as he easily avoided Tenok’s leg-lock.
The two twisted around each other, neither one relenting, and Sha’di knew neither man could bear to lose and watch the other die.
“Stop! The gods—!” Sha’di tried to push forward again and clearly the crowd around him had had enough of his antics. He felt a sharp blow to his head and everything around him tilted. He would have collapsed to the ground, but the crowd was packed so close together he just slumped against the people around him. Little dots of black and white danced in front of his face, and somewhere he saw a woman’s face engulfed in fire.
The moment passed, his head was throbbing, and he felt something warm and sticky running down his face—blood—but his senses came back to him. He found his footing again just in time to see the end. Belam had Tenok pinned, his arms bent behind his back, Belam’s knee on his neck, and Tenok’s eyes were darting around as he slowly lost consciousness. When he became limp, Belam finally let go, pushing himself up and looking around with a strange look on his face.
Tenok gasped and pushed himself up, the crowd going absolutely insane, and finally, Sha’di got through their ranks and stumbled to his knees next to Tenok. Tenok looked at Sha’di and then they both looked up at Belam, who merely smiled.
“Not today, huitl,” Belam said sadly. “Today, I win.”
Sha’di shook his head, getting to his feet and about to scream his protest, but Belam took him by the shoulders and shook him hard.
“Don’t you dare.” Sha’di had never heard an angry word come from Belam’s mouth, and the shock made him go still. “This is a good thing. Don’t you dare say otherwise.”
The crowd settled down as they noticed the red priest enter the room. He was old and withered, and the way he squinted made him look blind, but he deftly walked through the crowd and stopped before Belam. Belam stepped towards the priest, his head held high.
“Do you come before the gods to humble yourself? To offer your life in this world, for a greater life in the next?”
“I do.”
The priest turned to Huwamanpellpe, who stood once more. “Do the gods accept his humility and sacrifice?”
For a moment, Sha’di saw something in her eyes, a sadness, and he thought she was going to refuse the priest, to stop this from going any further, but instead she nodded. “The gods will turn away no man who offers himself so.”
“Then come,” the priest nodded to Belam and began to walk from the room, towards the altar that stood outside the main entrance of the palace. Tenok pushed himself to his feet, and stepped in with the crowd.
“No,” Sha’di whispered, grabbing Tenok’s hand to stop him from following with everyone else.
Tenok turned around, tears in his angry eyes. “You won’t abandon him. You’ll stay with him until the end.” He then turned and followed the priest quickly, but he didn’t let go of Sha’di’s hand, he held it tightly and Sha’di let himself get pulled after the priest until they stood before the altar, the crowd silently surrounding them, but no less eager to watch the sacrifice than they were for the wrestling match.
Belam looked back one last time at them, still smiling as he nodded, and then he turned to face the priest. Sha’di stayed where he was, squeezing Tenok’s hand. It shamed him forever afterwards, but he looked away.
They shuffled back in through the main entrance. A somberness had taken them all, even those who had been excited to watch the sacrifice now looked down at their feet in contemplation. The servants were the only ones with any energy as they quickly dove into the crowd, offering food and wine, and the music began once more. Sha’di couldn’t help but darkly wonder if the servants took a secret thrill in watching the sacrifices. It was a horror and an honour they would never have to face.
“My huitls.” The crowd stopped moving, and the few muffled voices chilled into silence. They looked up and saw Huwamanpellpe standing before her throne, atop the dais, surrounded by her many women. Her face was still, but the ferocity of a jaguar was reflected
in her narrowed eyes. “I have entertained you and sated your hunger, but now I intend to give you all what you truly desire,” Sha’di looked up at Tenok in confusion, but Tenok looked like he hadn’t heard a single word.
The rest of the crowd changed considerably, though. A few men looked just as confused as Sha’di. What else could there be? What did she mean by what they truly desired? But Sha’di could see a few of the atls in the crowd, their eyes shining with delight, their lips curling into the smile of a snake about to strike.
“I suppose it is most proper that a sacrifice has been made this night, on the night I announce my engagement,” and her eyes flitted over the crowd, yet she seemed to stop and look every man in the eye. Her gaze fell on Sha’di, and he felt as though all the warmth was sucked from him.
Sha’di saw Maarku at the far end of the room looking apprehensive. He took half a step forward, but she did not turn towards Maarku. She avoided him completely, and instead, her eyes left Sha’di and settled next to him, and soon the entire room followed suit and began to stare at Tenok.
“Tenok-huitl, I will have you as my husband.”
NEPATA
I’VE HEARD YOUR NAME MANY TIMES
Kareth felt the kick to his side and rolled over in a daze to see Yunet standing over him. “Get up, boy, we’re going to the palace.”
“What?” Kareth sat up groggily in his corner of Yunet’s home, then with more insistence added, “What?”
“It’s not my fault you sleep through someone knocking on the door. I’m leaving for the palace now. You can keep sleeping for all I care,” Yunet started moving to the door.
Kareth still wasn’t entirely certain if he was awake. He stumbled as he pushed himself up, his eyes squinting in the dim, early light. “Did you say palace?” Kareth spun around, his eyes trying to follow Yunet as he synched his belt around his tunic. He looked down a moment and when he looked up again Yunet was already gone.
Pekari -The Azure Fish Page 37