The Highlander

by Zoe Saadia

  He heard the warriors talking quietly, their voices too soft to try to understand. What were they talking about? Why wouldn’t they leave for a short while, to get something to eat, or to drink, or to relieve themselves? He only needed a few moments to sneak away. When in the gardens, he would have no difficulty disappearing into the Palace’s artificial groves, scaling the first wall he found to get out of that place, away from the accursed, dangerous city, never to return.

  He moved his arm that the healer had fastened into a sling, with two firm planks enclosing it from both sides. It hurt to move it, but not overly so. The healer maintained it might have been broken, or maybe just cracked a little. He sighed. He could not scale walls with this arm. Well, he thought, brushing this worry aside, then he’d just have to find a way out without scaling walls. There must be enough unguarded gates and entrances in such a vast structure as this magnificent Palace.

  He lifted his good, unharmed arm and touched the bandages encircling his head. The healer was very thorough, washing his wounds until his eyes watered, then putting all sorts of hot and cold ointments on it. A good thing. There was no argument at his feeling much better now. If only they would have the sense to offer him something to eat. His stomach rumbled loudly, but he tried to pay it no attention. Think of something else; think of how you can get out of here.

  His vision blurred, and he must have fallen asleep, as the vigorous footsteps of a newcomer startled him, made his head dizzy, heart beating fast. The fierce, midday sun flowed through the open shutters now, giving no relief of a breeze anymore. Kuini blinked, staring at the Aztec as the man strolled in, the usual air of a dominant confidence enveloping him like a gown.

  “Well, is it not our prisoner?” The man tore off his imposing headdress with an impatient gesture. He rubbed his brow where the headpiece had actually left a mark. “You look better, boy. A few days of rest and a few more visits of that healer, and you will fight like a wild jaguar without turning a hair.”

  Kuini tried to concentrate his thoughts, but his mind refused to work. He watched the slaves removing the man’s cloak, rushing to help him with his sandals.

  “Get us some food,” said the Aztec, addressing another slave. “Then leave us alone. All of you.”

  Without the feathered headdress and the cloak, the man looked even more impressive, reflected Kuini reluctantly, watching the strong broad face, the wide, muscled shoulders, the well-developed calves. This was the body of a man used to walking great distances, the body of a younger man. The Warlord’s age showed mostly in the wrinkled face, the thinning hair, in the calm, slightly amused wisdom the large eyes reflected. A dangerous bastard, reflected Kuini. But an interesting one.

  Food arranged on the low table, the Aztec squatted comfortably. “I’m famished,” he said, snatching a tamale greedily. “Those filthy Acolhua bastards have the tastiest tamales I've ever eaten.” He nodded casually. “Help yourself.”

  Getting up with an effort, head still reeling, Kuini neared the opposite mat, then hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

  “Just drop over there and get to the food, kid. There is no need to make it as ceremonious as an imperial evening meal.”

  The tamales did, indeed, taste good. He devoured one, then another, having gone hungry for more than a day now, not counting the tortillas the girl had made him steal. He recalled her black glittering eyes as she beamed at him, happy and proud at his success at stealing the goods. She was here in the Palace too, he thought randomly. Somewhere around.

  He forced his thoughts back to the Aztec, feeling the man’s thoughtful gaze.

  “Well, kid, now that you are not in any danger of dying of hunger, tell me your story.”

  The tamales suddenly heavy in his stomach, Kuini swallowed. “I… I don’t know. What do you want me to tell you?” he hesitated. “Honorable Warlord.”

  The man’s laughed. “No titles, kid. Not yet.” He sobered. “Tell me who you are and where you come from. Also, how did they get to this ridiculous idea of your kidnapping a princess?”

  “I don’t know,” said Kuini carefully, addressing the easiest question. He had to think, to think hard, but the thoughts kept rushing around his head like a bunch of panicked squirrels. He frowned. “I saw this girl and we talked. Then, the next thing I knew the warriors were running, waving their slings.”

  “Their slings? Why would a warrior attack someone with a sling, unless from a great distance?”

  “I don’t know,” Kuini dropped his gaze, unsettled by the open, even if amused, doubt reflecting in the dark eyes. “But they did. They shot me with their slings.”

  “On the back of your head, eh?” The Aztec’s eyes sparkled victoriously. “It looks to me that you were trying to run away as fast as you could. That would make a warrior grab his sling. But why? Why wouldn’t you stay and try to explain?”

  “They would never listen to me.”

  “Why?”

  Upset with the insistent questioning, forgetting his uneasiness, Kuini glared at the older man. “Because they would never listen to a foreigner! You know that too.”

  The man’s grin was wide and satisfied. “Indeed,” he said. “You are right. They would never listen to a foreigner.” The glimmer in the dark eyes deepened. “So what sort of a foreigner are you?”

  Kuini felt the blood leaving his face at once. It made him dizzy, the air around him suddenly thick and difficult to breathe. He took a deep breath.

  “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it that way,” he mumbled, staring at the plate of tortillas, his appetite gone.

  “Oh, but you did. You are not from Texcoco, in spite of that claim of yours being a boy from Tepanecapan.”

  “I do live there,” he said in desperation, gathering the rest of his strength to meet the man’s penetrating gaze. “Actually, I should be going there now. My family, they will be worried.”

  He stared at the smug, derisive face, his anger rising. I don’t have to tell you anything, he thought, hating the sense of helplessness. If you want to kill me, just do it already and get it over with.

  The gaze of the man softened. “You have guts, kid, and I like that. I need it in my warriors. Most of my personal unit is hand-picked, you see? I have access to hundreds of warriors, so I’m at liberty to watch, to pick the best ones, to comprise the elite unit of Tenochtitlan’s fighters.” He shrugged. “I’ve yet to see you with weapons, of course. To watch you in all sorts of situations. But I like what I’ve seen so far. You may be worth the trouble of training you. You are quick, and your instincts are good. Also, you are brave and proud, and you seem to be able to think. Were you older, I would never have trapped you into revealing your lie.” The Aztec’s grin widened. “But you did. So, now you will have to be honest with me. No more lies. Where are you from?”

  Unable to take his eyes off the penetrating gaze, Kuini fought the strange urge to tell the truth. Despite his mocking arrogance, the man looked well-meaning and sincere. Yet, he was the leader of the fierce Aztecs, the enemies of his people. But then, Coyotl was also supposed to be his enemy, and they were good friends. He clenched his hands so tight he could not feel them anymore.

  “You are really uncomfortable with this thing, aren't you?” said the older man, interrupting his thoughts. “Well, all right. We’ll leave it for a moment.” The dark eyes narrowed. “Let me see. We will be staying here for a day or two. I’ll give a few of my warriors the task of training you, to see what you can do. Then, before we go, I’ll decide if you are worthy of my time. If I decide in your favor, you’ll be trained to be an elite warrior. But if I decide to let you have this chance, you will have to be completely honest with me and tell me the dark secret of your origins.” The man grinned. “It’s really a strange combination of those tattoos and piercings on such a Tepanec face as yours.”

  Kuini swallowed, studying the carvings upon the table. “If I want to leave,” he asked, stumbling over the words. “If I want to go home, can I do this?”

  The m
an was taken aback, his eyes widening, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Kuini bit his lower lip. “Am I a prisoner?” he asked quietly.

  “Well,” the Aztec shook his head, not amused anymore, “I suppose you are a prisoner as much as it concerns the people of Texcoco. As for us? No. You are not a prisoner. I don’t see the sense in holding you among my elite warriors against your will. Too many men would give everything they have, even their freedom, for a chance to be trained as such. I don’t need unwilling people.” The gaze grew cold. “You are free to go, kid. I’ll even give a few warriors to escort you out of the city, in case those Texcoco Acolhua are still after your blood.”

  A maid came in, carrying a tray with dishes. The sight of a sliced meat upon spread tortillas made Kuini’s stomach rumble. Yet, he did not dare to reach for the food, the chill in the Aztec’s eyes sending waves of alarm down his spine.

  The man attacked his plate heartily as if nothing else mattered, but his whole being now radiated cold indifference. And the danger. Like sitting next to a large jaguar that had already finished its meal, he thought. The one that would not necessarily attack you should you not make any sudden movement.

  He tried to think of something to say. Turning this man’s incredibly generous offer down was not a wise thing to do. And it was a tempting offer too. To be one of the elite warriors of those fierce Aztecs? To be a man praised and feared by all nations around the Great Lake and further to the East and the West?

  He clenched his teeth. What wild thoughts. Those Aztecs were his people’s avowed enemies. Tenochtitlan’s priests praised the hearts of his, Kuini’s, people above anyone else. The captured Highlanders would be kept alive, to be sacrificed on special occasions, large festivals and celebrations. People like his father, his brothers, his friends, oh, even he himself when older. It was bizarre. He felt the eyes of the Aztec upon him, burning his skin.

  “You are a strange boy, you know.” The amusement crept back into the man’s voice. “Like a caged animal, a young male jaguar, watching the people around with those blazing, haunted eyes, ready to pounce given the slightest chance.” The light mocking grin was back in place. “I understand that you have just been beaten and tied and wounded, but still. One can relax a bit, from time to time. And something is telling me that you are usually this way.”

  Kuini returned the man’s gaze with an effort. Funny that they should have thought the same things about each other, he thought randomly.

  “You remind me of someone, and I’m trying to remember whom.” The sliced meat finished, the man picked up the oily tortilla. “So you said your father was a Tepanec. Or was it your mother?”

  Kuini tried to remember, his appetite gone again. “My mother,” he muttered.

  “A captive? A slave?”

  Oh gods, why didn’t he develop that story when loitering here the whole morning, thinking how to escape? “I don’t know. She never talked about her past.”

  That’s it. It came out well. That should take care of his whole Tepanec history.

  “Yes, Tepanecs are usually that proud.” The man reached for his cup. “So you know nothing of your Tepanec roots.”

  “No.”

  “Too bad.”

  The Aztec resumed his eating, not radiating too much danger anymore.

  Kuini dared to lift his gaze. “There will be a war with the Tepanecs, yes?”

  The Aztec grinned. “Yes, probably.”

  “Will Texcoco lose?”

  “Well, it’s difficult to say. They seem to think they will not.” He shrugged. “We’ll see. Soon enough, probably.”

  “But Tenochtitlan will fight too. Will it not?” Kuini glanced up, embarrassed by the open amusement in the man’s gaze.

  “Another thing that remains to be seen. Oh, those Acolhua people lack patience. Their Emperor thinks he can defeat the Tepanecs now, but he should have waited with his declaration of independence. Fancy talking new titles.” The corners of the generous mouth lifted in a crooked sort of a grin. “His chances of repulsing the Tepanec invasion are fair, but they would be higher if he had waited. He doesn’t know these people. Not the way I do. He thinks it will be enough to throw their warriors back into the Great Lake. But it won’t stop another raid, and another. Tezozomoc will never stop, not until he wins. He will conquer Texcoco, if not this summer, then the next. Or the one after that. There is no stopping him. They should have waited until he is dead.”

  Kuini watched the darkening eyes of the man wandering some remote distance, not noticing his audience anymore. “My father thinks the Tepanecs are unstoppable too. He fears their coming to our shores.”

  The Aztec’s gaze focused. “Your father is a wise man. His intuition must be good. Or does he know about the Tepanec Empire more than his son does?”

  “I don’t know. He seems to know those Tepanecs, somehow. He knows so much about the Lowlands and their history. Even the other side of the Great Lake.” Kuini paused to swallow a large chunk of meat. “He is a great leader.”

  “Leader of whom?”

  He felt the meat sticking half way down his throat. Shivering, he gazed at his plate.

  The laughter of the Aztec was hearty and unrestrained. “You are a mess, kid.” He drank more of the water. “So what about that princess of yours? Who was she?”

  “They say she is the First Daughter of the Emperor’s Second Wife.”

  “Oh, the Second Wife. The cause of the whole war. Interesting.” Eyes twinkling, the man watched Kuini over the rim of his goblet. “Take my advice, kid. Don’t mess around with princesses. They are usually an arrogant lot who will cause you much trouble while giving you no satisfaction.”

  He remembered the girl, the way they had run up the main road together, with the yells of the incensed tortilla stand owner raging behind their backs.

  “She is not like that,” he said, then wanted to swallow the words back. The mocking eyes of the older man made him want to break something.

  “I got into a bunch of trouble over a princess too when about your age,” said the man. “It was not worth it, believe me.”

  “Were you accused of kidnapping her?” It was difficult to imagine this dignified old man, the War Leader of the fierce Aztecs, getting into trouble over a princess. They would give such a man princesses aplenty, it seemed, should he indicate any willingness. Even the haughty Acolhua ones. This man must have twenty and more wives and concubines.

  “Oh no. No kidnapping. But believe me, I was chased all over a Palace too, and beaten, and yelled at, and accused of all sorts of things. And that was just the beginning.” The grin of the man was irresistible. “Consider yourself getting off lightly.”

  Kuini stared at the man, fascinated. “Was she the daughter of the Revered Acamapichtli?”

  “Oh no,” the grin of the man did not waver. “She was the first niece of the Revered Tezozomoc.” The man laughed. “Oh yes, that was quite an adventure. You see, we, Tepanecs, are a very haughty lot. They say it about us all over both of the valleys and around the Great Lake. And they are quite correct, if you ask me.”

  Kuini fought his astonishment, trying not to gape. Eyes wide, he stared at the grinning face, his mind in a jumble. “I don’t understand,” he muttered eventually.

  “What’s there to understand?”

  “You just said… you said… You are an Aztec, aren’t you?”

  The grinning eyes stared at him, sparkling, amused as if satisfied with the effect. “I am. Now, I am an Aztec. I lived in Tenochtitlan for more summers than you have seen. I’m the first Mexica Chief Warlord, appointed by Revered Acamapichtli himself. I’ve led the glorious warriors of Tenochtitlan for twenty and a half summers. But,” one corner of the generous mouth lifted in a crooked sort of a grin. “I was a Tepanec, born in Azcapotzalco. Before coming to Tenochtitlan, I was the Tepanec elite warrior for enough summers to earn a few scars and some captives.” The man shrugged. “It’s quite a forgotten past now. Not many people remember my origins. Acam
apichtli is dead, and Huitzilihuitl, his successor, does not seem to remember. Or, maybe, he just doesn’t want to. Sometimes, I keep forgetting myself.”

  Again, eyes wandering the depths of the forgotten past, the man seemed to appear older now, more tired and somehow sad. Kuini watched him, fascinated. The fierce, ruthless Aztec leader was not an Aztec at all. It was impossible to believe. Could it be true? Was this man really a Tepanec? And should those people land on this side of the Great Lake…

  “Will you fight the Tepanecs if Tenochtitlan joins this war?” he asked, unable to hold his tongue.

  The man looked up, startled. “I will, if I have to. I’ve been an Aztec leader for too long to let the past stand in my way.” The sadness left the wrinkled face as the usual half-mocking twinkle flowed back into the large eyes. “You, with your Tepanec face and this name of yours, brought back such deeply buried memories.” He shook his head, chuckling. “And I don’t even know whether to thank you or to curse you for that.”

  Kuini finished his tortilla. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then the curiosity got the better of him. “Do you have any family or friends left among the Tepanecs?”

  The Aztec shook his head. “No. The people I cherished, my family, my friends, are all dead or scattered.” He shrugged unperturbed, but the twinkle in the large eyes died once again. “I wish I knew what happened to them. If no one else, my brother should still be alive.”

  “Where was he when you last saw him?”

  The mocking grin was back. “He was on his way to the wild areas of the Blue Mountain, would you believe that?”

  The Blue Mountain! The Highlands! Kuini’s heart squeezed with a sudden longing for home. The Tepanecs? No, there were no Tepanecs among the towns and the villages and the people he knew. He tried to think of someone who may look like a Tepanec. No, there were no such people up there. Aside from Father, most didn’t even speak the Lowlanders’ Nahuatl.