The Highlander

by Zoe Saadia

  She knelt and put her tray down, then went away. He watched her bending to lift a low table on the other side of the room. A heavy thing, he reflected, watching her face turning red, glittering with sweat. Awkwardly, she carried it across the room.

  “I'm beginning to feel like an emperor,” he said, when she arranged the plates with hot tamales and tortillas, making sure the slices of avocado scattered prettily around the dishes. His stomach grumbled.

  “Well, don’t get used to it. I’m sure it’s a temporary thing.”

  “Why? Who told you to serve me?”

  “The Aztec Warlord, who else?” She eyed him mischievously. “The Emperor is too busy to bother with foreigners.”

  “What foreigners?”

  “Any foreigners. You and your stupid Aztecs.”

  He picked up a tamale. “Careful with your tongue. They’ll chop you into twenty little pieces with those obsidian swords of theirs if they hear you talking about them like that.”

  She knelt opposite to him, holding a flask and a cup. “I heard one of the people who tried to sneak in here during the night was cut into so many pieces they had a difficult time scrubbing him off the walls.”

  His stomach turned at the memory. “Yes. He looked like an elk after a pack of wolves feasted on him for a whole night.”

  She gaped at him. “Did you see it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “A pack of wolves feasting on elk?”

  He glanced at her, startled. “Well, yes, that too.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Didn’t you come with them from Tenochtitlan?”

  He frowned. “Just leave it. Serve me that food if you must, but stop talking.”

  She glared at him, then poured a cup of water and banged it pointedly upon the table. He paid her no attention.

  So, the Aztec had made sure he was taken care of, being served food like an emperor, he thought, hiding a smile. The man did understand that he, Kuini, was trustworthy, and that his throwing a stone might have helped. Good.

  He devoured the last of the tamales and grinned. So, now, it all might be quite simple. When the Aztecs left, he’d go out with them, and so would leave the Palace and this accursed altepetl, safe and protected. Then he would go home. Leave openly or run away, should the Aztec turn a liar and try to take him with them against his will. Oh, it would work out either way.

  “Don’t you have any octli?” he asked the girl as she refilled his cup.

  “Octli? At this time of the day? You all must be hopeless drunkards in your Tenochtitlan.”

  He lifted his brows. “We manage.”

  Amused, he stared her down. So, now, he was presumed to be an Aztec, not a Tepanec. Next he’d be taken for a Big-Headed Mayan. He wanted to laugh, replete with food and lightheaded. The people of the Lowlands, Texcoco Acolhua in particular, were incredibly silly.

  The nearing voices tore him out of his reverie. The girl jumped to her feet and busied herself with cleaning the table as the leading Aztec, face closed and grim, burst into the room, followed by some of his warriors.

  Kuini stared at them, his elation evaporating. Tearing the imposing headdress off, the Aztec hurled it into the far corner. Next came the massive golden necklace, flying across the room. The man shifted his shoulders as though relishing the sudden freedom of movement.

  “Go away,” he said curtly, noticing the maid.

  As the girl scampered off, the dark and indifferent glance lingered on Kuini, but only for a little while, moving on to encircle the room. The warriors stood behind their leader, apprehensive, as though expecting something.

  “Well,” said the Warlord finally, “as we are not leaving today, make yourself busy with some training. Find out where their training grounds are around the Palace, then let me know. I need a good exercise too.” His gaze encircled them, heavy with meaning. “Is that clear? Find the training ground, send me a word and wait for me there.” The well-spaced eyes lingered on Kuini. “Go with them.”

  “But Honorable Warlord— ” protested one of the warriors.

  The dark stare made the man drop his gaze. “This boy saved my life yesterday. He is to be trusted. Treat him like such.” He turned to leave. “Train him a little until I come. Go easy on him with his wounds, but find out what he can do and with what weapons.” The narrowed eyes bore into Kuini. “Have you fought with a sword before?”

  “No.” Kuini cleared his throat, curiously upset with the flicker of disappointment in the Aztec’s face. “But I’m good with a club, and I can handle a spear and a sling.”

  “Those are not good enough.” The man turned to the tall bulky warrior. “Teach him to use the sword. Let him use one of yours for a time.” His gaze darkened. “And I want to have him back in one piece and unharmed. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Honorable Leader,” said the man, but the glance he gave to Kuini was anything but friendly.

  Kuini got to his feet slowly, trying to conceal his fear. Yet, as they began pouring out of the room, the Aztec’s voice startled them again.

  “On second thought, stay!” He gestured curtly. “The rest of you go and train, and send for me right away.”

  Afraid to breathe with relief as yet, Kuini just stood there, waiting for the last of the warriors to leave. The silence prevailed. The Warlord stared out of the open window, deep in thought.

  “Filthy bastards,” he hissed finally. “Stinky, dirty, pest-ridden manure-eaters!” Kicking the low table so viciously it toppled over, the man turned abruptly and disappeared into the other room.

  It took Kuini a while before he dared to breathe again. What had come over the bad-tempered bastard? He strolled toward the same window. Was it the aftershock of the nighttime attack? No, not likely. The man had looked his old, derisively amused self when leaving that morning. Kuini remembered that clearly, surprised with the man’s fast recovery after the healer had finished smearing an ointment over his cut cheek.

  He stared at the bushes below, remembering the way he had run there, the way that stone had felt in his hand. He should have left last night, sneaking away through one of the entrances. The girl could have shown him the way out, he thought, aware of the warmth spreading below his chest at the thought of her. With her wonderful ability to climb and her experience in running away, she could have helped him tremendously. He suppressed a smile. Would she wait there for him at midnight as promised? It could be a perfect solution. She would be able to guide him out, but not before another one or two of those breathtaking kisses of hers.

  He heard the footsteps and tensed. Peering at the long sheet of bark paper, the Aztec came back, still deep in thought.

  “How well do you know the areas around Texcoco?” he asked, voice low, but calm and well in control once again. The man was changing so fast.

  “I know some of it,” said Kuini carefully.

  “If you would want to leave Texcoco on foot, heading southward, what would be the safest way to do this?” He thrust the paper into Kuini’s hands.

  Kuini studied it, wide-eyed. The painting was colorful, drawn carefully with strong decisive lines like the scrolls Coyotl had shown him back in the temple - had it happened only two dawns ago? - but in a sort of a large picture, instead of many small ones. A solid part of a picture was painted bright brown, with a few figures in it. The rest was unpainted and full of images of people, animals, and other creatures with multiple heads and limbs.

  “See here?” The large finger pointed at the images to the right of the brown area. “Do you know these areas? Can people pass there without venturing into the Highlands?”

  Kuini blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “The Highlands,” repeated the Aztec impatiently. “If you want to go down, southwards along the Great Lake, can you do this without venturing into the lands of the Highlanders?” The finger invaded the brown area. “I want to end up here, but I need to make some of my way over the land.”

&
nbsp; “You want to go out of Texcoco--”

  “Would you shut up?” The man flung his arms in the air. “You don’t have to repeat everything I say. Let alone yell it at the top of your voice.” He took a deep breath and lowered his own voice once again. “Just answer this. Have you ever traveled around Texcoco?”

  “Yes.” Oh, he should have run away the previous night. This man was insane.

  “Then can you, or can you not, show us the best way to move southwards?”

  “I think so.” This time Kuini kept his voice as low. “I know the areas to the west best, but I happened to go southwards a few times. There are comfortable roads down there.”

  “And if I want to avoid the roads?”

  “Oh, then, well, you’ll still find enough trails, I suppose.” He knew there were enough trails. His brothers never used the roads of the Lowlanders.

  The man peered back into his sheet. “Where exactly? Show me the way you would use.”

  Kuini stared into the picture. “What? Here?”

  Suddenly, the broad face crinkled with laughter. “Oh, I see.” He stared at Kuini, amused. “It’s a map. It’s a picture that is showing some of the areas and their roads and settlements. Haven’t you seen one before?”

  “I… No, I don’t think so. I saw a calendar.”

  “Yes, calendars are nice. But I need you to help me with this map now. Come here.” The Aztec went to the overturned table. Pulling it into an upright position, he spread the long sheet of paper upon in. “This brown thing here, in the far corner, is the Great Lake,” he began to explain. “See? Here, on this spot, nearer to the left, is Tenochtitlan.” The wide palm moved upward. “Out there, on the better side of the lake, you see? This is Azcapotzalco, the capital of the Tepanecs.” The palm shot backward, crossed the brown vastness, halted on the opposite side. “And here is Texcoco. See this figure? That’s their Acolhua symbol.”

  Kuini stared at the painting, mesmerized. The calendar, the accounts of the battles, even the engineers’ drawings, were nothing compared to this. Here was the map of the whole Great Lake. Being able to draw something like that, one wouldn’t even need a scout, he thought, his heart beating fast. You would just draw your way and give it to the person you wanted to guide. He tried to grasp it.

  “What do the other figures mean?” he asked, his throat dry. “Over there, for example.”

  “Oh, this is Tlacopan. A large province and the tributary of Azcapotzalco, of course.”

  Kuini found the capital of the Tepanecs again. “So, they would have to cross all the way up here?” he asked, pointing toward the symbol of Texcoco.

  “Right.” The Aztec glanced at him, eyes twinkling. “You learn fast, kid. And I promise to give you this drawing to study and to show you more of these things. But now, I need you to concentrate.” He pointed back at the symbolic Texcoco. “Can you guide us up here without making us stumble into the Highlands?”

  “I can, but not all the way. I’ve never been too far away to the south.” He peered at the brown shape where it split as if parted by an invisible boundary. “What’s this?”

  “That’s another lake. Lake Chalco.” The Aztec grinned dreamily. “Many campaigns up there. Many memories. We almost finished them off, those Chalcoans, a few summers ago.” He frowned. “Tezozomoc didn’t like it. He forced us to retreat, to leave the Chalco altepetls alone, when we could have just taken them, like a ripe fruit. And what do you think your righteous Acolhua of Texcoco did? Sided with the Tepanec Emperor, no more and no less. But now? Oh, now they are all indignant with our inclination to keep out of their precious war with this same Tezozomoc. Filthy bastards!”

  Kuini hardly listened, his eyes drinking in the precious scroll, unable to get enough, leaping from image to image, from altepetl to altepetl.

  “So, you want to go all the way up the lake Chalco, and then cross there?”

  The Aztec studied the map, then grinned, openly amused. “No. It would be too long of a walk. But not a bad plan, kid. Not bad at all, and under regular circumstances I might have considered it. But now…” He looked up sharply, then got to his feet and began folding the map. “Now, we stop talking and will go out to do some training.”

  Kuini ground his teeth. Did this man ever stop to think of the others? Annoying, self-centered bastard! He didn’t hurry to jump to his feet, but as the Aztec finished folding the sheet, rising voices caught their attention. People were arguing outside the entrance.

  The Aztec straightened up abruptly. Paces long and springy like those of a jaguar on a hunting path, he went toward the doorway, in time to meet one of his warriors, coming in hesitantly.

  “Honorable Warlord, the Emperor’s First Son is here. He is insisting on meeting you.”

  “The First Son? The heir?” The Aztec looked genuinely surprised. “What would that slimy bastard want with me?” He hesitated and looked around, doubtful and amused at once. “Well, let him in. Can’t have the next Texcoco Emperor thrown out of my quarters with force, can we?”

  Kuini found it difficult to breathe. Coyotl is here? It could mean only one thing. He wished his friend would come later, when the Aztec was not here, or even when both of them would be away on the training session.

  He bit his lips, heart pounding, watching Coyotl coming, lingering at the doorway, clearly unsure of himself, despite the attempt to look otherwise. He must have been counting on the leader of the Aztecs being elsewhere, like yesterday, but could not back away when informed otherwise. Kuini rose to his feet, his mind refusing to think. He had to do something.

  “Well, what an honor,” he heard the Aztec saying, the mocking tone in the deep voice more pronounced than usual. “The Revered First Son himself. I’m truly honored.”

  Coyotl hesitated, off balance. “Greetings, Honorable Warlord,” he said finally.

  The large eyes of the Aztec twinkled. “Please, come on in,” he said, his exaggerated politeness bordering on an outright offense. “What can I do for you, oh future Emperor?”

  Coyotl’s eyes sparkled. “I came to relieve you of the burden of your prisoner.”

  “What?” The surprise of the man was genuine this time.

  “I came to take your prisoner away,” repeated Coyotl, suddenly more sure of himself.

  The eyebrows of the Aztec narrowed. “Is this what the duties of the Emperor's heir have come to? To run around, collecting the offenders who didn’t make it to the court in time? Is the royal house of Texcoco that thirsty for the blood of this boy?”

  “No!” said Coyotl angrily. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “This case is exceptional, and I will be responsible for this boy from now on, personally.”

  “Will you stone him personally too? Or will you just strangle him with your own hands?”

  Coyotl gasped. “He will not be executed!”

  “Then what do you want with him?”

  “I don’t have to tell you. You are a guest in this Palace. You cannot take people of Texcoco just like that. We are not in Tenochtitlan.”

  “This boy is not from Texcoco, and your people wanted to kill him anyway. It doesn’t look like any of you will miss him.”

  “And what do you want with him?”

  The Aztec shook his head calmly, but his eyes grew dangerously cold. “I don’t have to tell you that either.”

  Kuini’s gaze leaped from one face to the other, aghast. “Stop it,” he said quietly. “Please stop arguing.”

  They turned to him at once, astounded, wide eyed, as if a statue in the far corner of the room had just opened its mouth.

  He licked his lips. “Please, stop arguing about me.”

  “What?” called the Aztec, clearly thrown out of his usual mocking self-assurance.

  Kuini clasped his palms tight. “I know it sounds crazy,” he said, licking his lips once again. “And I’m sorry about that. It’s all just a huge misunderstanding, you see? Funny as it may sound, I know both of you mean well and…” He swallowed. “I’ll go an
d talk to the Honorable First Son outside if both of you don’t mind.”

  He wanted to laugh at the sight of the Aztec’s face, so dumbfounded and astounded the man looked. He clasped his lips tight and proceeded to the doorway, praying that the warriors at the entrance would not try to stop him, hoping that Coyotl would follow him promptly.

  Leaning against the plastered wall, he tried to contain his trembling. What now? The warriors eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing. He fought the temptation to walk away, to put as much distance between him and them as he could, but then Coyotl stumbled into the corridor, looking grim.

  “Well?” he asked almost challengingly, stopping at some distance.

  “Shall we go and talk outside?”

  “Is it safe for you now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I suppose, as long as you are with me…” His friend’s tone softened.

  They stepped into the early afternoon heat and headed down the wide stairs.

  “So,” said Coyotl, halting at the bottom of the staircase. “You seem to be on quite good terms with this Aztec Warlord.”

  Kuini shrugged. “Well, yes. He is all right.”

  The dark gaze was his answer. “I suppose you’ll be heading for Tenochtitlan now, en-route to becoming an Aztec yourself.”

  “No, I’m not!” He glared at his friend, suddenly very angry. “I’m trying to find my way out of this mess, that’s all. You were the one to insist that I should come here, remember? So stop acting like I did something wrong, like I betrayed you or something!”

  Eyes narrow, lips pursed, Coyotl stared back. “The Aztecs seem as though about to betray us, so if you go with them, you will betray me.”

  “I’m going home the moment I step out of this Palace, this way or another. I’m not about to get into any of your wars, whichever way they go. Acolhua people, Aztecs or Tepanecs, they are all the same to me, they all want to kill me or my people, so I’m out of here, out of this mess, out of your wars and politics. I should never have come here in the first place!”

  Breathing heavily, they glared at each other, oblivious to the people’s stares. Then Coyotl’s eyes focused, lost their fierceness.