by Zoe Saadia
Coyotl almost gasped at the effrontery of the guest. Did this Aztec Warlord presume to advise the Acolhua Emperor? Inconceivable! Even among the fierce Aztecs such arrogance would be surprising. Only the Tepanecs might presume patronizing Texcoco people. Why, the man even looked like a Tepanec, he thought, seething. With these broad features of his and those widely spaced eyes. Where had he seen such a face before?
He saw a maid hovering nearby, carrying no tray. Hesitating, the woman sought Coyotl’s gaze, eyes imploring. He frowned, but the maid kept stealing glances, clearly anxious to catch his attention.
Coyotl hesitated. He wanted to hear where this argument would lead, how his father would put this insolent Aztec in his place, yet now he recognized the maid as one of Iztac’s personal slaves. He frowned, remembering that he had forgotten to talk to his mother about the girl’s temple training. It was too late to bother the Emperor’s Chief Wife now, but the anxious face of the girl’s maid made him uneasy. Something was wrong.
He slipped away silently, relieved to be outside, breathing the fresh night air with enjoyment. The reception hall was choking with incense, to keep the mosquitoes out.
“Revered First Son.” The woman’s voice startled him. “Would you please be so kind as to visit your sister’s rooms? She is most anxious to see you.”
“In such a late part of the evening? She should be fast asleep. What happened?”
“Oh please, Revered First Son, please follow. Iztac-Ayotl is distraught and in need of your help. She would not talk to anyone, not even her Revered Mother. She was punished severely for what she has done, yet she is distressed over something none of us could understand.”
He stared at the maid, startled. “Punished? What has she done?”
“Oh please, Revered Master, please come.”
He followed the woman down the long corridors, his worry mounting. His sister had been caught, that was obvious. But caught doing what? Spying in the Emperor’s hall? Not likely. Before the Aztecs arrived there were no official audiences, and after the formidable Warlord was received, he, Coyotl, was there, brought back from the city.
He thought about the first part of this day. Oh, how amazed Kuini had been, how awestruck. The effect the great altepetl had had on him was more than Coyotl could wish for. What a pleasant surprise. He should bring his friend here more often, now that they had discovered it was possible. There was so much more of Texcoco to show.
The cloud of incense pounced on him as he entered her small set of rooms. He could barely see in the eye-stinging mist. Why wouldn’t she open the shutters? He eyed the small woven podium and the low table with a bowl and the rest of the spinning facilities. “Iztac-Ayotl, are you here?”
There was a heartbeat of silence, and then she burst out of the second smaller room, pouncing on him, almost pushing him off his feet, clumsy as ever.
“Oh Coyotl,” she sobbed into his chest, soaking his cloak with warm tears.
He stood there momentarily stunned, at a loss. Iztac crying? Impossible! She never cried. Not even as a young girl, the rebellious, wild little thing. She would take punishments with those clasped lips of hers and the challenging eyes, no matter how harsh the penalty was. Why, she didn’t even cry that time, five or six summers ago, went they were playing in the gardens and she fell out of the tree and broke her arm. He remembered how proudly she had sported her sling to which her arm was fastened for quite a long time. He shook his head, remembering the way she would climb a tree or a wall like a quick little lizard, light-footed and sure of herself.
He pressed her shoulders. “What happened? Are you hurt? What were you punished for?”
But she pressed closer, and her sobs became louder, threatening to go completely out of control.
He propelled her toward the nearest pile of mats. “Bring us some water,” he ordered the maid. “Then leave.” He looked at the woman sternly. “And don’t you dare listen by the doorway!”
When the maid returned, he made the girl take the cup. “Drink, Iztac. Drink the whole cup.” He watched her drinking, her throat convulsing. “Now here, take this cloth and clean your face.”
She obeyed him without a word; another unusual thing for her to do. As she wiped her face, he noticed the bruised cheek and the swollen lip. He clenched his fists. If the Second Wife had beaten her for whatever crime the girl had committed, he would just go and kill the vile woman.
“Now tell me, what happened?” he said, pleased to hear his voice calm. “What were you punished for?”
“I went into the city this morning,” she said, still sobbing.
“No!” He flung his arms in desperation. “Not again.”
“I didn’t get into any trouble!” protested the girl, more her old self now. “Well, I did, but I was completely all right and everything was under control.” Her face twisted. “This was one of the most wonderful days—”
He cut her off impatiently. “What happened? How did you get caught?”
Her shoulders sagged once again. “Well, you see. I lost my way, so it took me the whole day to get back. That’s how they knew.”
“What punishment did you receive?”
She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Like you said, locked in my rooms. And lots of yelling and lecturing on my unworthiness, of course. The usual things.”
“But you’ve been hit. Your mother did it?”
She brought her palms to her face. “Oh, this? No. It’s not her. And it’s really nothing. Nothing to do with any of it, anyway.”
“Who hit you?” he cried out, appalled. Unable to sit, he sprang to his feet, fists clenched.
Her dark eyes shone with tears. “I’ll tell you later, and it doesn’t matter. It’s not important now. But you must help me. You must!” She began sobbing again, difficult to control her convulsive breathing.
“Help you how? Do you want me to talk to the Emperor, to try to explain?” He frowned. “Yes, I’ll do it first thing in the morning. Before he gets too busy with the Aztecs.”
His last sentence brought a new bout of tears. She sprang to her feet and stood before him, her large white teeth making a mess out of her lower lip.
“Listen,” she said when able to speak once again. “There was this boy on the marketplace. He saved me, and he helped me to find my way to the Plaza. He was there with me when the warriors came.” She took another convulsive breath. “They attacked him. He tried to get away, but they shot him with their slings, and they dragged him away. They took him somewhere, and they didn’t listen to me when I tried to tell them he did nothing wrong to me.” She swallowed, clasped her lips tight. When able to speak, she went on. “I think they are going to accuse him of all sorts of things that are related to me. But he did nothing wrong! You see, he saved me, and he helped me to find my way back. And he was amazing, nice, and interesting. We had so much fun together.” Her voice broke. “I don’t want him to get hurt. Please, find out what happened to him. Please, don’t let them hurt him.”
He tried to make sense of this jumble of words. She’d met a boy, and he had helped her, but the warriors were angry with him anyway. Well, it did make some sense. Why would they take kindly to the Emperor’s daughter running around the city with this or that commoner?
He frowned. But why would they shoot this boy, when all they had to do was to tell him to piss off before taking her back to the Palace?
“Why did he try to run away?” he asked, finding the puzzling part. “Why would he do this?’
“Oh, he was jumpy all the time for some reason. He didn’t want anything to do with the city officials, I think. Maybe he was someone they were looking for anyway.” Her face twisted. “Still, you have to find him and help him to get away. He doesn’t deserve this.” The tears flowed anew. “He was covered with blood when they dragged him away. All over his face!”
Suddenly, he caught his breath. “What did he look like?” he asked urgently, heart beating fast. “What was his name? Did he tell you?”
&
nbsp; “Mecatl,” she said. “He didn’t tell me, but I heard it on another occasion. He was a Tepanec, but he kept saying he was not. I suppose he doesn’t like his origins so much now, with the war looming.”
He barely listened, his relief welling. For a heartbeat he thought it might be his friend, but that would have been too much of a coincidence. Kuini must be safely away upon his hill, resting after the long eventful day, dreaming of temple’s scrolls or the Great Pyramid. He’d have to find him tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Well, not the first thing.
“Listen,” he said, taking her hands in his. “I’ll try to find out what happened to that savior of yours, and I’ll talk to Father about all this too. I’ll try to make him not go too harsh on you. But you have to promise to behave from now on. Promise?”
She peered at him with the same trusting innocence that always twisted his heart. “I can’t promise you that. But I’ll try. At least for the next moon or so.” A smile dawned, one of her wonderful, unguarded smiles. “If I plan another adventure, I’ll tell you before. Good?”
He got to his feet. “Yes. Now try to get some sleep. You look exhausted and not at your best.” He wanted to ask her about the bruises, but then decided against it. She had calmed down, at last. He should not disturb her anymore, not after such an eventful day.
“Will you remember to make sure this boy doesn’t get killed?” she called after him when he was already outside.
“Yes, of course,” he muttered absently, forgetting all about it. The conversation with the Emperor about her was much more important than some Tepanec boy in trouble with the city officials.
***
“Come on, boy. Wake up.”
Kuini blinked in the strong morning light. Dozing on and off, drifting between sleep and reality, he must have fallen asleep toward the dawn, as now he felt surprisingly refreshed. His body was stiff and in pain, but the nausea was gone, and it made him feel infinitely better.
“Come on. There is no time for a refreshing nap. Get up.” A hand grabbed his upper arm, pulled him onto his feet, steadied him as he swayed. “Don’t collapse, boy. Not yet. You can do better than this. Want some water?”
“Yes.” Kuini narrowed his eyes against the dizziness. “Please.”
“Sure. Lean against the wall.” The support of the hand disappeared, but the rough wooden planks were there, offering their firmness. He fought the urge to slide alongside them.
“Here. Drink as much as you want.”
The water tasted good. It washed down his parched throat, bringing his insides back to life, clearing the light fog before his eyes.
“Now, let’s go.”
“Where to?” he asked, trying not to lean on his guard too heavily, every step sending shafts of pain through his body, making his head reel.
“To the Plaza, of course. The court will be assembled in a little while, and your case will bring the judges nice diversity in their usual boring city disputes.” The warrior measured him with an appreciative glance. “It’s not every day strange warrior-boys go around kidnapping princesses.”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone,” said Kuini, sensing the man’s curious affability. “Let alone a princess.”
The man chuckled. “Well, it’s too bad you’ve been caught with the First Daughter of the Emperor’s Second Wife.”
He blinked. “The First Daughter of the Second Wife?” Then she had not lied about the litter and the army of slaves.
The man nodded vigorously, chuckling.
“If she was kidnapped, then someone else did it. I just met here there. She asked me to bring her to the Palace, and I was about to do just that.” He turned his head, halting. “Have someone ask her!”
The man pulled him on firmly. “You talk to the judge. Not to me. I’m only one of the Palace warriors. I do not talk to the royalty. And if you ask me, it keeps me from trouble. You should try it too, sometime.” He chuckled. “Although, I’m not sure you’ll have your chance.”
“Will they execute me?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Which way?”
The man pursed his lips. “I’d say the strangling. Or maybe a stoning.”
Kuini’s stomach turned. To take his mind off the prospect of stoning, he looked around, taking in the beautiful, spotless pathways and the swaying trees of the gardens around them. The Palace loomed to their right, impressive like the Great Pyramid - imposing, bearing down upon its surroundings, casting the beauty of the groomed gardens and patios into complete insignificance.
A large group of warriors appeared at the far end of their path and Kuini tensed, then forced his body to relax. He didn’t care about any of them anymore. It was too late to be afraid of them.
He watched the man in the lead, broad and imposingly tall, talking cheerfully, gesturing, his paces wide and purposeful. There was something familiar about this man. Kuini narrowed his eyes, then tensed again. The Aztec from the marketplace!
He dropped his gaze as the group neared, somehow uncomfortable with this man seeing him in such a condition. The slightly accented Nahuatl brought another forgotten memory. Whom had he heard speaking with this peculiar accent before now?
The hand of his guard pulled him away hurriedly, made him sway. He glanced up involuntarily. The Aztec went up the path with a natural arrogance of a person accustomed for his way to be cleared. His eyes brushed past them indifferently, not even the slightest nod acknowledging Kuini’s guard’s polite gesture.
Yet, something did attract the man’s attention as, upon passing them, he turned his head, his gaze concentrating.
“Eh? Is that not the market boy?” he exclaimed, the broad face registering a genuine surprise. He halted abruptly, and his followers did the same, puzzled.
Kuini dropped his gaze, his lips clasped tight. He could feel the wondering eyes measuring him from head to toe, taking in the dried blood and tied wrists. “Got yourself into another bunch of trouble, didn’t you?” asked the man, voice trembling with amusement. “And it did not take you too long, eh?”
Kuini stared at the ground stubbornly.
“Where are you taking him?” This time the question clearly addressed Kuini’s guard.
“To the Plaza, Honorable Warlord,” said the man humbly, uncomfortable and sweating. “He is to be judged by the court.”
“What has he done?”
The warrior cleared his throat. “He tried to kidnap one of the Emperors daughters.”
The Aztec gasped. “You did this, kid?”
“No!” Kuini looked up, not caring how silly he may look, beaten and tied. He was so tired of this particular accusation. He may be guilty of many things, but not this. He was not that stupid!
The eyes of the older man narrowed, lost their amusement, although the derisive grin was still in place, stretching the generous lips.
“You know what? This boy is too promising to just execute him like that.” He paused as if pondering his possibilities. “I’ll take care of this case from now,” he said finally, addressing Kuini’s guard. The sentence was phrased politely, but the tone of the man invited no argument. He turned to his followers, singling out two warriors. “Take him to my quarters. Clean him and have the healer see him.” One pointed eyebrow rose. “Keep an eye on him too, until I’m back. Untie him, but make sure he is guarded well.”
“But Honorable Warlord,” protested Kuini’s guard. “I have specific orders from the leader of the royal guards. I’m to take this boy to the judge.”
“Your orders are changed,” said the Aztec sharply, obviously not pleased by a simple warrior arguing with him. “Your leader is welcome to talk to my people. Or to his superior.” The man turned abruptly and headed up the road, not bothering to make sure his orders were followed.
One must get used to so much authority, reflected Kuini, following his new captors, unsettled. He kept switching hands, now falling into the hands of the people worse than the enemies of his countrymen. The fierce Aztecs, no more, no less. The arrogant,
bloodthirsty, unpredictable lot, with their warlord being the worst of them all. The girl had said so. She said the man had the reputation for all of it and worse.
He shivered, suddenly cold in the soft morning sun. He should never have come to Texcoco, never! There had to be a way to let Coyotl know.
Chapter 5
Carefully, Kuini watched the warriors squatting outside the entrance. Leaning against the plastered wall of the corridor, they sat there motionless, at ease, conversing from time to time. Their spotted gowns clung to their bodies, soaked with sweat. It was less hot in the spaciousness of the inner rooms, where the wide open shutters allowed a slight breeze to flow between the openings in the walls.
Kuini shifted, making himself more comfortable upon the mat. His tiredness welled, but he fought the urge to put his head down. He had to stay awake, to wait for the warriors to relax their guard. Those men looked more like the warriors they were, unlike the people who had guarded him at night, slumbering or drinking spicy beverages.
He leaned against the wall, hugging his knees. It was so good not to be tied, to be able to move around as he pleased, clean of mud and dried blood. He shivered, remembering the night. What a horrible feeling of helplessness, to be tied and at the mercy of some damn filthy bastards. He should never have let it happen. When a warrior, truly a warrior, he would make sure to die if necessary, but never to get captured. Never that!
