The Highlander

by Zoe Saadia

  “So soon?” exclaimed the Emperor. “Oh, no. We could never let our guests leave in such a hurry. It's not every day we are honored with a visit of the most prominent Warriors’ Leader of Tenochtitlan. You have to stay for a little longer, Honorable Warlord.”

  The polite platitudes went on and on with Coyotl listening, finding it hard to suppress a smile. Now the Aztec seemed to lose some of his appetite. Lips tight, eyes dark, he didn’t go on arguing, but his concentration seemed to wander as the conversation turned back to politics.

  Oh, the man understood it too well, thought Coyotl. He wouldn't get out of Texcoco easily, without committing himself to anything more tangible than a few politely spoken words or a haughtily given advice. The arrogant bastard was trapped.

  Coyotl’s thoughts wandered to the meeting in the Emperor’s private chamber prior to the morning meal. He remembered how thrilled he had been, summoned along with the closest advisers, making his way through the brightly lit corridors, still foggy with morning chill.

  Yet, the meeting had been anything but merry. Furious with his most trusted adviser, the Emperor was snappy and prone to anger. The failed attempt on the Aztec leader was likely to turn into a great embarrassment. Either you succeed or you don’t do this at all, was the great ruler’s message, related through many flowery words. The adviser had been sent away in disgrace, while the rest of those present were informed curtly that the Tepanec forces, now definitely on the move, would most likely cross the Great Lake in a market interval or so. Couriers went running, and more of the war leaders were sent out to organize the warriors and to hurry the reinforcements.

  Amidst all the excitement, Coyotl was informed that he would have to tour the provinces in a hurry, to rally their warriors.

  “Nezahualcoyotl, you will go with the delegations,” said the Emperor, eyeing his son almost kindly. “You have a market interval, no more than two, to bring back as many warriors as you can. I trust you with this mission. Do not disappoint me.”

  To go out as an official representative of the Capital? Oh, for such a chance. Finding it difficult to breathe, his excitement welling, Coyotl lowered his gaze. “I will not disappoint you, Revered Emperor. I thank you for your trust.” He hesitated. “What about Tenochtitlan? Shall I go there too?”

  “No,” said the Emperor thoughtfully. “The Aztec problem will be solved differently.” The heavyset man grinned and lifted his eyebrows. “Huitzilihuitl could use another wife of exalted origins. It will add some glamor to this dismal palace of his.”

  Coyotl felt his stomach tightening. “Not the First Daughter surely…” He swallowed, his voice trailing off.

  “Yes, the First Daughter. She is suitable, of an age, and her blood is impeccable on both sides. Why, she could even rival Huitzilihuitl’s Chief Wife, Tezozomoc’s daughter. Her blood is as good, and her temper could prove an advantage. I heard Tezozomoc’s daughter is wild enough.”

  “But Iztac-Ayotl is so young, and she deserves to be a chief wife, not a minor one,” mumbled Coyotl, knowing he had no right to argue. She could have done worse, all things considered.

  The Emperor’s brows climbed higher. “Nezahualcoyotl, did I ask for your advice?”

  “No, Revered Emperor.”

  “Then go. Attend the morning meal, then spend your time preparing your journey. I want you to go out tomorrow at midday, escorted by two times twenty of warriors.”

  And now, watching the Aztec’s darkening face, Coyotl could not wait for the morning meal to be over. He had to talk to her right away. It had to come from him, softened and presented as pleasantly as possible. She would be shocked badly as it was.

  He frowned. On the positive side, Huitzilihuitl, the Aztec emperor, was still relatively young, a man that had seen no more than thirty summers, a kind and considerate person as rumor had it. On the other hand, Tenochtitlan’s ruler had a dominant Chief Wife, the daughter of the mighty Tezozomoc. She was the one responsible for the considerably lessened tribute, having pleaded with her powerful father. She had given Huitzilihuitl an heir, a healthy boy of some summers, and was rumored to rule Tenochtitlan alongside her husband.

  Would his wild, free-spirited, childish sister prosper in such a household? He grew uneasy at the troublesome thought, already knowing the answer. She would not. If she was unhappy now, she would be a thousand folds unhappier in Tenochtitlan.

  When the meal had finally ended and he was bidden to go, he made his way slowly down the corridors, his steps heavy. How should he break his news to her? And he had to check on Kuini too, before he left, he reminded himself. Oh, he could just take his friend along, to go out and travel the provinces. It would be much fun for both of them, and the Highlander would have every opportunity to leave for home whenever he wished to do so. Coyotl smiled. One good turn.

  “I want to see the First Daughter!” he said to the slave guarding the entrance of the women’s quarters. Frowning when the man hesitated, he barked imperiously. “Take me in now! This matter cannot wait.”

  Her maid squatted in the outer room, spinning a cotton thread. Surprised, she scrambled to her feet. “Oh, Revered First Son. It’s such a pleasure to see you!”

  “Where is she?’ he asked.

  The woman’s broad face spread in a wider smile. “She is still asleep. I checked on her only a little while ago.”

  “Still asleep?” cried out Coyotl. “What did she do all night?”

  The woman shrugged, her narrow eyes crinkling with laughter. “You know how she is. Doesn’t like sleeping at nights. Such a pretty, wild thing.”

  His heart squeezed, but he made an effort to stay calm. He had to be cheerful, for her sake. He had to make her see the positive side of it.

  “Wake her up. I have to talk to her, urgently.”

  The woman frowned, but went in without an argument. He squatted on the mats, watching the room, taking in the pottery bowls, utensils, and spinning facilities scattered around the low tables and podiums in cheerful disarray. He grinned. She was incurable. So boyish, so unfeminine. His grin wavered as he thought of her in Tenochtitlan, an exalted second or a third wife. Would she be allowed to bring her maids along?

  She sailed out of the other room, still sleepy and disheveled, face puffy, undecorated gown askew.

  “You just had to wake me up, did you?” she asked, eyes glittering, lips quivering with a smile.

  He looked her up and down. “You look greatly refreshed, oh Iztac-Ayotl First Daughter of the mighty Emperor. I could march you straight into the Emperor’s official audience hall. His visitors would be awed by your beauty.”

  She picked a cushion and threw it at him, then dropped down on a vacant mat. “Bring me a chocolate drink, right away,” she called toward the doorway. “And make it sweet.” She turned to Coyotl and smiled, stretching luxuriously. “I had a wonderful night, just to let you know.”

  “Wonderful night? What did you do? Are you allowed to go out?”

  She shook her head vigorously. “No, of course not. But I had a wonderful night all the same.”

  “What happened?”

  “Oh nothing. Nothing special.” She stretched once again, her smile spilling out of the blackness of her eyes.

  “Iztac, you don’t make any sense.”

  She rolled over the mat like a large animal, graceful and wonderfully feminine for a change. He watched her, wide-eyed.

  “Tell me something,” she asked, raising her head, one arm propped on an elbow, the other stretched. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

  “What?” He stared at her in disbelief. “Iztac, have you gone mad?”

  “No, but I want to know,” she went on unabashed. “Have you made love to a girl?”

  He sprang to his feet. “Stop it. You can’t ask me these things. What has come over you?” He glared at her, suddenly furious.

  Her smile did not waver, but her eyes hardened, lost some of their previous gaiety. “We used to know everything about each other,” she said, frowning slightly.
“We used to spend so much time together. We shared everything.” She shrugged. “I understand that you can’t climb fences and trees anymore and we can’t tell each other everything. But I wanted to know this thing. Why can’t I ask you this? Maybe I have something to tell you.”

  He watched her uneasily, stomach twisting. Since the Emperor had started treating him as an official heir, he had had no time for her, always busy, but happily so. While she? Well, she had stayed behind, doing her best to entertain herself, getting into all those troubles. She was right. They used to know everything about each other. And when she was sent to Tenochtitlan, he would lose her entirely.

  Heart squeezing, he studied her gentle heart-shaped face, skin creamy and as smooth as a golden mask, the dark eyes wide-open and glittering. He bit his lower lip.

  “Listen,” he said, sitting beside her. “Those things change, and we are not children anymore. I have to tell you something, and you should not take it badly. It’s actually a good thing, all things considered.”

  She straightened abruptly. “Have you talked to the Emperor?” she asked, peering at him.

  “Yes. I tried to talk to him yesterday, but he wouldn’t listen. Yet, this morning he brought the matter up himself.”

  The color left her cheeks at once and her eyes lost their spark. “What is he going to do with me?”

  He took her shoulders between his arms, pulled her closer, but she squirmed out of his embrace.

  “What? What is he going to do with me? Is he giving me away?”

  “Yes,” he said, unable to shift his gaze, yet wanting to look anywhere but at her twisted, haunted face.

  “Where?”

  “Tenochtitlan.”

  “What? Why Tenochtitlan?” She moved farther away, until her back was against the wall. “No! Not the Aztecs. I hate them!”

  “Listen, Iztac. They are not that bad, and their Emperor is a still quite a young man. They say he is really nice, considerate and all. You could be given to an old province ruler with half of twenty fat wives. Think about it.”

  She took a convulsive breath. “I don’t want to think about it. And I don’t want to go to Tenochtitlan!”

  He saw her biting her lips, trying to control herself. His heart squeezed harder. “You would have been given to this or that ruler one day. This one is not a bad man, at least.” He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.

  “Don’t touch me! I don’t want anyone touching me from now on.” She jumped to her feet. “So that’s it, eh? Is it final? When do I go?”

  “Well, he didn’t tell me that. I tried to argue, and he just told me that it’s not my place to comment.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “But maybe he just thought about it. Maybe he didn’t ask the Aztec yet. If so, you will, probably, have plenty of time until it’s settled, don’t you think?” It was awkward to look at her from the floor. He got up. “It will take time and, who knows, maybe Huitzilihuitl will refuse.” Seeing a flicker of interest in the dark desperation of her eyes, he went on, clinging to this only hope. “The Aztecs don’t want to go to war together with us. They seem to prefer to stay neutral. So maybe their Emperor would not want a princess of Texcoco.”

  He could not stand the look in those black bottomless eyes, but before he dropped his she took her gaze away. Listlessly, she went back, sitting upon the mat, slowly and carefully, as though afraid to break something. He didn’t know what to do, now that he could not even hug her. As two maids came in, carrying a tray with chocolate and tortillas, he welcomed their interruption.

  “Put it here and leave,” he told them curtly, angry with their wondering glances. “Come on, Iztac. Drink your chocolate.”

  But she just sat there, staring at the floor, shoulders sagging.

  “Please,” he said, sitting beside her. “It’s not that bad. It may not happen, but if it does, it will be all right. You’ll see.”

  “You were right,” she muttered. “You warned me. You told me they would give me away if I got caught.”

  His heart made strange leaps inside his chest. “No, that has nothing to do with it. Really, Iztac. Look at me!” She stared at the floor stubbornly, so he lifted her face, touching her chin only lightly. The misery in the depths of her eyes made his stomach turn. “Listen, it has nothing to do with your marketplace adventures. The Emperor wants another alliance with the Aztecs. You are the most available princess, that’s all. Your blood is impeccable, better than mine even. Think about it. Acolhua on one side and Tepanec on the other, with a sprinkle of the Toltec blood even. You are the granddaughter of Tezozomoc himself, do you realize that? I should be honoring you with all sorts of titles before daring to converse with you. Think about it.” Seeing the sparkle of amusement passing through the depths of the obsidian vastness, he picked up a tortilla. “Am I allowed to eat the food that the revered gaze of the Toltec princess has rested upon? I’ll cherish the moment and will tell my children about it.”

  “Stop it!” She frowned, stifling a giggle. “You are impossible. I wish they would make you marry the Aztec Emperor.”

  “Huitzilihuitl wouldn’t want me. I’m not as pretty as you are, and my Mexica blood is nothing to him.” Encouraged with the effect, he grinned. “And anyway, see, I’m half an Aztec too, so stop badmouthing us, the Aztecs. We are not that bad.”

  She shoved an elbow into his ribs. “You are not an Aztec. You are an Acolhua nobleman, the First Son of the Emperor. The future Emperor of Texcoco, the greatest of them all, the one that will be remembered for generations.” She looked at him searchingly. “And I’m not joking. I know you will be all of that.”

  He felt the warmth flowing into his cheeks. Embarrassed, he released her and went toward the table. “We have to defeat the Tepanecs first,” he said, busying himself with the food. “So I’ll be able to ascend that throne one day, to do all those things you were prophesying just now.”

  She sat beside him. “We will defeat them, won’t we?”

  Coyotl shrugged, frowning at the sweetened tortilla. “The Aztec Warlord seems to think we won’t. Such a self-assured bastard! I wish they had killed him last night.”

  “Well, it’s a strange wish.” She picked up her cup and drank a little, face twisting. “That chocolate is bitter. Didn’t they have enough sense to sweeten it this morning?” Glancing at him, she said, “This Aztec Warlord may not be that bad. I heard he can be nice, too.”

  “Where did you hear that? He is a heartless bastard. With no nice side to him.”

  She looked mysterious. “I have my sources of information, and he did one good thing.”

  “What?”

  “He saved that boy from the marketplace.”

  “He did not save him for nothing. I bet you ten cocoa beans he saw a way to use him. And it won’t be anything good, believe me!”

  Her face fell. “Then you have to help him get away from him!” she cried out, clutching onto her cup.

  He watched her knuckles, wrapped around the prettily painted pottery, going white. “You get mighty upset, sister.” Raising his brows, he watched her golden cheeks turning dark. “You liked that boy, eh?”

  “No! It just that…” She stood his gaze for a while, then dropped her eyes. “He is nice and… I wish they would give me to him.”

  He chuckled. “No chance of that, unless the savages from the Highlands conquer the Lowlands. Then you may be given to him, as his father is some sort of a mighty war leader or something. I suppose he could be considered nobility up there in the mountains.”

  She gaped at him, eyes wide, mouth open. “He is a Highlander? A savage?”

  “Yes, of course. Didn’t you notice the tattoos? And his accent? You are dense!” He laughed into her face. “You should see yourself now, sister. What a sight! I should get Kuini to draw your likeness looking like that. On the best quality bark-paper, with all the colors only he knows how to apply best.”

  “Kuini?”

  “Yes, that’s his name. Means Jaguar in their strange-soundi
ng tongue.” He sobered. “And he is a jaguar all right. A tremendous boy. I’ve known him for summers.”

  Her jaw dropped. “How?”

  Pleased with the effect, he laughed. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day.”

  Her face fell again. “You won’t have a chance. I’ll be in Tenochtitlan, a minor wife to the annoying Aztec Emperor.”

  He clasped her hand. “I’ll find a way to bring you back if you are unhappy there. I promise!”

  ***

  Kuini jumped, startled as the gentle hand touched his shoulder. For a moment his heart leaped, but the face peering at him from above was round and homely, not heart-shaped and as if chiseled out of polished wood. The eyes staring at him were brown and bright, not as black as obsidian.

  He blinked, finding it difficult to adjust to the strong midmorning light.

  “What?” he asked, wishing to close his eyes again.

  “I brought you food,” said the girl. “The midmorning meal. Don’t you want to eat?”

  “Maybe.” He rubbed his face, wincing when his palms brushed against the crust on his brow. He remembered the healer coming to check on him sometime during the early morning, studying his wounds, clicking with his tongue. Again, the treatment was unpleasantly painful, and the man kept shaking his head, murmuring as he washed the new cut on Kuini’s throat. He shrugged, hardly remembering any of that. He had just wanted to return to sleep, and he wanted to do it now as well.

  “Well?” asked the maid. “Won’t you get up or something? Am I to feed you like a baby?”

  “Leave the food somewhere around,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “But I’m to serve you!” She stood there, hands firmly on her tray, legs wide apart, planted into the floor as if readying for his attempt to throw her out by force.

  Grimacing, he sat up, leaning against the wall. “I don’t need you to serve me. I can eat all by myself, you know?” he said grimly, wishing her to go away.

  “Oh, I know are not an emperor. But they told me to serve you the food, so that’s what I’ll do.”