Young Jaguar, The

by Zoe Saadia

  “If you step onto this balcony, I’ll scream.” Her voice took on a shrill tone.

  They glared at each other.

  “Listen,” she said, eyes softening. “Let us say you manage to get away. Then what? Think what you will miss. It’s a grand game, and you are offered a part in it. A considerable part. You said you are of no significance. Well, this is true. For now. But listen, you can become someone of significance. Are you prepared to lead an insignificant life in the shadow of your great father? You are offered something great here. Will you now risk your life to get away from it?”

  He could not take his eyes off her animated face. Oh, she was one to want something out of life, something more significant than just being a princess.

  “I need time to think about it,” he said painfully. “I can’t decide just like that. My father… he…” He winced at the thought of his father. “He won’t agree to… you know.”

  “Your father will change his mind. He will be persuaded.”

  “You don’t know my father.”

  ”I know the people who are willing to persuade him.” It came out ominously.

  Atolli shivered. “I won’t fight against him. I need you to know this.”

  “You won’t have to.”

  He gazed at her, feeling cornered.

  Then he remembered. “My friend, the other boy that was with me that night, remember? He is coming with me. We are together in this.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “It can be arranged.” But her gaze still bore into him, searching his face, piercing and intense. Then the bottomless eyes flooded with such obvious relief, he winced.

  She was right, he knew, there was no way back now.

  Chapter 11

  Sakuna hated being carried in a litter. The uneven swaying made her nauseated, this morning worse than ever. She leaned against the wooden screen and shut her eyes, dizzy from lack of sleep.

  Oh, that was a long night! Lips tight, she tried to banish the unwelcome memories, the way she had sat in her set of rooms, pretending to go to sleep, waiting for the household to calm down, waiting for her husband and her oldest son to return.

  When the place went completely quiet and she could be sure the boys upstairs were fast asleep, she wandered the gardens, peering into the darkness, waiting and waiting, her lips swollen from her biting them so much, her fingernails damaged.

  Yet, neither Tecpatl nor Atolli came home, and just before dawn she huddled on the flat top of the roof, her favorite spot, hugging her knees, shivering with cold and thinking…thinking hard.

  Tecpatl was probably all right. The councilors would sometimes be required to sleep in the Palace, when their advice was needed most urgently. Their time belonged to the Emperor, of course, and with this changing of rulers there was nothing unusual about the Chief Warlord not coming home.

  But that was not the case with his son; especially since the youth had been just recently expelled from calmecac under most embarrassing circumstances; especially since the youth had been pulled into a dubious political game between the dead Emperor’s successors; especially since his mother had just been threatened by the highest of the Palace’s advisers. She felt her palms beginning to tremble and clutched them tight. She had to remain strong and determined. She was on her own this time.

  Nopalli’s voice tore her out of her dark reverie.

  “Turn right onto the next pathway and stop after about twenty paces,” she called, pulling away the curtain. “I hope I remember correctly,” she murmured, leaning back against the opposite screen. “Are you all right, sister? You look sick.”

  Sakuna forced a smile. “I think it’s the litter, the way it jerks all the time. But I’ll be perfectly all right when we get out.”

  “Oh, you will be! Just wait and see what materials this vendor has. What colors! And the quality of his cotton. You wouldn’t believe it. It comes all the way from the Big-Headed Mayans, you know? I wish he would bring twenty times more.”

  “I love this flame-colored blouse of yours. Is that the same material?”

  “Yes, exactly. You can see the difference, right? And the quality of it! I hope this trader is still in Azcapotzalco.”

  The litter jerked to a stop, and the two women swayed uncomfortably.

  “Watch it, you imbeciles!” shouted Nopalli. “I really can’t stand the litter bearers sometimes.”

  “I wish we were allowed to walk,” muttered Sakuna. “I love walking, and the most walking I do is around my own house.”

  Nopalli laughed. “Oh, you wish you were a commoner sometimes, eh?”

  The clamor of the marketplace burst upon them as they stepped outside, careful not to mar their elaborately tied sandals.

  Sakuna looked around, disappointed. She had been half-hoping to see Atolli wandering the marketplace. How silly! But it really felt better to be out and surrounded by people who had nothing to do with the Palace and its politics.

  She smiled at Nopalli as casually as she could. “Amusing to see all those commoners running around as if the old Emperor were still sitting on his throne. Do you think they care about who rules Azcapotzalco?”

  The young woman beamed. “They couldn’t care less as long as their bellies are full and the markets are overflowing. But you should see how involved they can get on the summers of bad harvests.”

  They picked their way carefully between the mats and the heaping baskets, two sturdy slaves clearing their path.

  “Has it happened in your lifetime?” Sakuna glanced at the baskets with various seeds. On a regular day she would have stopped by.

  “Once, when I was very little. There was a great drought, a few summers in a row. The marketplaces grew ugly and dangerous, so they say. Riots every day and crime everywhere.”

  Irritated by the digression, Sakuna frowned. On a regular day she might like that story, but now she needed to navigate the conversation back to the Palace.

  “So, you think they would not care which son of the old Emperor rules Azcapotzalco?”

  “Oh, they would care. They would talk and argue and fume and make fights. The way the commoners do.” Nopalli chuckled. “But eventually, as long as the markets are full and there are games and sacrificial rites to watch, they would stop there.” She glanced at Sakuna, amused. “Are you afraid of the commoners? Or do you care for their opinions?”

  “No, not at all! I… I just don’t know what to think. It’s so sad that the old Emperor has died. I don’t know. Do you think the new Emperor will succeed in ruling all those lands?”

  “Why not? He has nothing challenging to face. Culhuacan is crumbling, thanks to your husband. The Aztecs are tamed. What is there to fret about? He’ll do all right.”

  Sakuna lowered her voice, but mostly to put to rest any suspicions Nopalli might harbor. “I heard his brother is not happy.”

  There could be no mistake at the appreciative glance the young woman shot at her. But her shrug was lightly, non-committal. “Where would you hear something like that?”

  “You father told me.”

  That statement had an effect. Nopalli stopped dead in her tracks. Her large eyes peered at Sakuna, wide open.

  “Was that what he told you yesterday? Is that why you looked like someone haunted by the lowest creatures of the Underworld?”

  Oh, she should not have said that. Sakuna cursed herself. She should have kept this conversation as chatty as in the beginning. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was no politician!

  Nopalli grabbed her wrist. “Oh sister, don’t look so frightened. I know that you know that you shouldn’t have said that. It’s all right. There are some things we should not discuss. If we want our lives neatly arranged, we better keep to our clothes and jewelry, and our children. Politics are better left to the men, don’t you think?”

  Sakuna felt the light arm encompassing her shoulders. She knew she would break any moment.

  “You are right,” she muttered. “Of course you are right! It’s just…” She took a deep
breath, not trusting her voice, aware of the attention they drew. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

  “You are not well. Let us buy these materials, and then go to my house. There is nothing that hot chocolate would not make better. I can smuggle a little octli in it, you know?” The young woman winked. “It will definitely make you feel better!”

  “Can you arrange for me a meeting with your father?”

  “What for?”

  “He wanted me to give him some advice.”

  The young woman’s eyes grew so large they momentarily dominated her round face, untypically so. “I think I’d better have nothing to do with it. I may try to arrange it for you, but only this once, and I’m not sure I want to know the details.”

  “It’s not what you think, Nopalli!”

  The young woman winced. “I know, I know! But it doesn’t sound good, you know? Not at all!” She shrugged. “My father is not the kind of a man to talk politics to a woman. Tecpatl may like to treat you like he cares for your opinions, but the rest of Azcapotzalco nobles are not like that.” Frowning, she eyed their litter bearers and the rest of the market frequenters, staring at the two women, consumed with curiosity. Her voice dropped. “Yesterday, when my father wanted to talk to you privately, I was afraid. Afraid for you. I tried to interrupt, if you noticed. You see, you should be really careful with this man. Better talk to Tecpatl, let him handle this. He’ll manage.”

  Sakuna clutched her palms so tight, they went numb. “I wish I could!”

  “Of course you can, sister. Let the men handle politics.” She winked. “Let me buy this material and we’ll go home.”

  “Can I wait for you in the litter?”

  “Of course.”

  In the relative privacy behind the light curtains, Sakuna leaned against the warm planks and closed her eyes. Would it be better if she waited for Tecpatl? He must come home sometime during the day. She could talk to him, tell him everything. Everything, aside from the sexual remarks, of course.

  What would Tecpatl do? Would he do what his Uncle wanted? She doubted that. And how would he go about finding the whereabouts of Atolli?

  She shook her head. What was their son up to? Where had he gone? Was he hurt or kidnapped?

  She doubted that too. There was no logic in alienating the powerful warlord like that. Not as long as they hoped to achieve his cooperation.

  But then, what should she do? She opened her eyes. Well, first of all she should stop being hysterical, stop saying stupid things. She agreed to this market excursion in order to make Nopalli talk. But she had done exactly the opposite. She had done the talking, blurting out almost the entire story. She'd behaved like a silly girl, while Nopalli acted surprisingly mature.

  She took a deep breath. Well, from now on she’d plan everything beforehand. So, the first thing she would have to decide whether she should cooperate with the scheming Uncle and help him install his preferred emperor on Azcapotzalco’s throne, or go to Tecpatl and let him solve all the problems.

  The sensible solution was obvious. Nopalli was right about that. The young woman was not as silly as she looked like. And yet…

  Sakuna frowned. Didn’t she trust Tecpatl’s ability to handle this dangerous situation? He was the Chief Warlord of the Great Capital, and that, if nothing else, should count. Even as a young warrior, he had saved her and her people, time after time. Why didn’t she think he could handle his Uncle?

  Because he was a warrior, a leader, a warlord. He was no politician. He was not as deceitful, as crafty, as unprincipled, as sneaky, as this power-hungry Uncle of his. She shivered. Could she handle such a man?

  I’m a woman, she thought, straightening up and stepping out of the litter. The squatting litter bearers looked at her, surprised. I can also be crafty and unprincipled. The dirty old villain may be surprised.

  ***

  Tecpatl eyed his warriors sternly.

  “I want to know everything, everything that has been said between those hallowed walls!” He scanned their faces, three times twenty of the best elite warriors, clad in their spotted brilliant blue, wearing their elaborate headdresses.

  They looked back at him, some guiltily, some apprehensive, some just bewildered.

  “I’ve been hearing rumors. All kinds of strange doubts and deliberations have been reaching my ears since the consecration of our new Revered Emperor. So here you are, summoned to our hall dedicated to the mighty Tezcatlipoca, Smoking Mirror, who watches over us, his faithful servants and the elite warriors of Azcapotzalco.” His gaze encircled them solemnly, grave and foreboding. “So now, speak up. I want to hear my warriors. I want to know what they think. I do not wish to hear murmuring and fragments of disgruntled thoughts. Since yesterday, I’ve been feeling as if I’d been surrounded by women, those silly creatures crowding the marketplace, chattering and babbling, gossiping all day long, dropping hints then hopping onto another subject. Have I been leading women?” His voice rose, echoing between the marbled walls.

  He knew why he had summoned them here, in the holiest of their military order, the building that was built especially for them, dedicated to Tezcatlipoca, the god responsible for war and strife, and jaguars, among many other divine responsibilities. This place would remind them of who they were.

  “We all mourn the passing of our beloved Emperor. A part of us also died, accompanying this mighty man on his Underworld journey. But we were left here to guard his legacy. His Empire is our responsibility. His legacy is sacred. But what have I been hearing? Is it true that some of you dared to doubt his legacy, openly or covertly? Is it true that some of you think he did not decide wisely by choosing his successor? Is it true some of you think you know better?”

  His gaze encompassed them, not lingering on any particular face as the tension grew.

  “Speak up now! I want to hear you out,” he bellowed suddenly, and some jumped at the suddenness of his rage. “Come on, are you just a bunch of peasants? Are you afraid to speak up? Are you ashamed of your opinions? Or were you just repeating someone else’s words like the last of the commoners at the marketplace, blabbering with no consequence, ready to follow whoever bothered to talk them into this or that mischief? Are these the elite warriors I’m facing?”

  He stood there on the low podium, feet apart, his brilliant blue cloak flowing smoothly down his wide shoulders, arms stretched.

  “My warriors! Veterans of so many battles. People responsible for destroying Culhuacan. The bravest, the noblest, the best of the Tepanecs. Men who struck fear in the hearts of even the fierce Mayans. Are those the same men that I hear now, suddenly gossipy like old women, murmuring with discontent, disputing edicts of their Emperor, the old and the new one.” His raised hands shook, clenched. “This will not do, you hear me! You will serve our new Emperor with all the loyalty your lawful ruler deserves! You will die for him gladly, upon the marches of Culhuacan or in the forests of the Mayans. You will never, never, doubt his right to rule! Do you hear me?”

  They were afraid now, all of them. And shamed. He could see that. The ones who had been approached shifted uneasily. He could see their sagging shoulders, their blushing faces. More than a few. Oh, he had been right to confront them.

  He singled out a warrior who had looked too obviously ashamed.

  “Xicamatl.” The bulky man almost jumped, startled, near panic. “What has been said?”

  “Well, Honored Warlord… you see, we’ve been thinking…”

  “We? How many of you?”

  “No, no, only me. And I was clearly… I clearly have been wrong, you see? This is the shock, the shock of the Emperor’s death… I would never have…”

  “Who was the man who approached you? What did he have to say?”

  “I…” The bulky man quailed under the blazing gaze of his commander. “I… we… they told, said the Emperor… you know.”

  “I don’t know. I have obviously not been approached. My loyalty was not suspected!” His gaze let the man off, darted toward the rest. “
How many of you have been talked to?”

  It was so easy to see the distress of the guilty. If he had not been so angry, he would be amused. They were so transparent. The best of the warriors, yet just children sometimes, letting themselves be swayed by a malicious orator, then allowing their commander to scold and admonish them, genuinely ashamed.

  “You know that doubting the Emperor's lawful rule would be construed as treason?” His eyes encircled them once again, not blazing with rage but piercingly cold. “And you know what the punishment for the treason is? Death, loss of your status, your family sold into slavery. Are any of you ready to face the consequences? Do any of you still think another emperor will guide us better?”

  Oh, they were frightened now. He made an effort to calm himself.

  “I promise you personally. If I ever hear any of you doubt our lawful Emperor, I will make sure that warrior is tried for treason and punished to the highest degree the law directs.”

  Leaping down from his podium, he stormed past them, not sparing a glance to any, displaying much more rage than he actually felt. He knew he could trust Amatl, his faithful second-in-command, to make sure the discussions in the warriors’ hall would develop in the direction he wanted.

  I wish the Emperor’s troublesome brother would leave for Coatepec already, he thought, stepping into the soft afternoon light.

  His rage began to evaporate. Home at long last, he thought, elated. But a slave was already running toward him up the path of the wide spotlessly swept avenue and he knew he wasn’t to be let off that easily.

  Chapter 12

  “Well, now let us me see how you can handle this toy.”

  Legs wide apart, Atolli shifted his grip on the wide polished handle and readied himself to fight off another attack. His sword was heavier than the one he used to practice with in calmecac. A real sword, with the real, sharply polished obsidian blades, seven on both sides. They sparkled viciously, reflecting the last of the afternoon sun.