The meal is laid out on two reed mats. Juicy orange slices and corn tortilla cakes smeared with honey. Mmm. It’s impossible to pretend I’m not enjoying it as I slurp at the sticky dribble on my chin. I don’t waste a single crumb.
Lali grins in triumph.
She’s a good cook. If only she wasn’t so irritating.
After three cakes my belly swells warm and full. Maybe I’ll let her travel part of the way with me after all. Until the next meal. Then I’ll tell her where I’m really going and she’ll be so angry she’ll leave straightaway.
Eyes closed, I listen to my stomach purr. Old men say the jaguar spirit lives in a young warrior’s heart, but when I listen to my gut growl with contentment, I know that’s where the big cat crouches. And it likes corn cakes.
Morning burns against the back of my neck. I might have escaped the sacrificial stone, but somewhere, enough blood has been spilled to raise the sun and hang it blazing over the lake. My head clangs with the memory of fighting. Instinctively, I wrap my fingers around the gold token safe in the pouch on my belt.
“We should take the western trade route. It’s the quickest way,” Lali announces.
Aha! She hasn’t thought of everything this time. There’s only one problem but it’s a huge one. The road is well travelled and two children alone are easy prey for a greedy merchant. I shake my head. I don’t want to be a slave ever again.
“It’s too dangerous. What if we meet someone and they ask lots of questions? A trader might even try to kidnap us.”
She smiles. I should have known Lali always has an answer. “We’ll pretend my father is a great and fearsome warrior. We’ll say my parents sent me away from the danger in Tenochtitlan and will be following as soon as they can. You will be my slave,” she says.
“I’m not being anyone’s slave. Pretend or otherwise.” I fold my arms in defiance.
“Suit yourself but it’s a good story. Merchants are always afraid of the army.” Lali shrugs. “A warrior father would make any trader think twice about threatening us.” Her smile slips for a moment.
I never thought about parents before. I don’t remember mine. Like many slaves, they laboured to build a new wing for the Serpent-Sun god’s temple. And like so many others, they died there, buried under the rocks. All I had was Ichtaca – and I won’t miss him.
But Lali might miss her parents. Even if she is running away, that doesn’t mean she wishes them dead.
“Are you worried about your family?” I ask.
I hope she doesn’t cry. I never know what to do when girls cry.
But Lali isn’t upset. “My mother died when I was born. My father really is in the army but he’s not interested in a daughter.” She pauses, as if unsure how much to tell me. “A Mexica soldier needs a son to share the long marches and tell stories with. Father rarely speaks to me but sometimes I see him pass by in the corridors of the temple.”
Now I understand why Ichtaca didn’t chase her out. I also understand why she’s running away. But I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s still lucky. A slave can’t even choose to run away.
I help Lali shake the mats and flick crumbs into the water. The night current has dragged the canoe to the shallower edge of the lake. From here, it’s not far to the shore and only a few hours to the foothills of the mountains. Somewhere beyond the mountains and trees is the line of outer fortresses which mark the territory of Purépecha. And beyond even that, Tzintzuntzan city, the place of the hummingbirds. My family’s home and where I’m supposed to be running to.
It’s hard to believe I’m free of Tenochtitlan. Even the Captain can’t hurt me any more. But what if he somehow survived the Spanish massacre? Would he still hunt me down? What if he thought Mexica needed my promised blood to stay alive? You’re being foolish, I tell myself. The sun has fried your imagination.
I remember the Captain’s sneering smile and shiver. I don’t feel warm any more. The Captain was always trying to punish me. “I don’t know why you bother with this scrawny little Purépechan, Priest. He wouldn’t survive two days on an army march.” The Captain pinched my arm hard. “He’s all skin and bone.”
“I’m interested in his head and his heart,” Ichtaca replied. “And the boy can run like the night wind.”
“Not with these puny legs. I could snap one with my bare hands.” He didn’t try, of course. Not in front of Ichtaca. But I knew better than to stand too close. The Captain’s hands promised pain, even without broken bones. Last time the Captain squeezed hard when no one was looking. And in the morning a great purple bruise wrapped it fingers round my leg.
I stepped back. My knees shook as the Captain reached forward.
“Touch the boy again and I’ll cut off both your hands,” Ichtaca growled.
The Captain glared, but he did as he was told. “Your boy is a coward,” he sneered. “And you …” he turned to me, “you can’t always hide behind this priest for protection. One day I will have my revenge.”
He lifted the gold hem of his tunic to remind me how I had scarred his skin. And in his eyes, hatred burned. Hotter than turtle soup.
“Are you all right?” Lali asks. “You had a strange look on your face.”
For once I’m glad of her interruption. I don’t want to remember any more.
“It’s the sun. It’s giving me a headache,” I say.
That’s almost true. I can feel my forehead tightening against the heat and glare from the water. It won’t be long until my head thumps like a temple drum.
“It will be even hotter soon.” Lali squints into the bright morning sun. “Once we’re running, we’ll cover ground fast. We should reach the shade of the forest before midday.”
The water is shallow now, clogging our oars with reeds. Lali hands me a rope and I tie it to the front of the canoe. One section looped around my waist, I toss the end to her to do the same.
My eyes drag the lake for ripples and bubbles. Nothing. It’s unusual to see a crocodile. Maybe last night’s horror really was a good omen. Pum-pum. The drum in my head begins a soft, slow thump.
Lali tucks her long skirt into her belt but I leave my cloak and the tie of my loincloth in place. The wet slap of cotton around my knees will keep me cool. Together, we clamber into the sludge to haul the boat through the final sloppy steps to the shore.
Pum-pum. Teeth clenched, I will the ache in my head to stop.
“We can’t take all of this with us now that we’re in a hurry,” Lali says. “We just need the essentials.”
She piles items into my arms. Bows and lances, arrows, food and a bag of cacao beans for making chocolatl. Even more valuable than gold, they can be traded for anything we might need. Anything at all.
Slaves aren’t allowed anywhere near the hot chocolate drink. My tongue flickers along my lips. Who would know out here? Only Lali but I’m sure she wouldn’t approve. Maybe after she’s gone … I shake my head to empty it of stupidity. The beans are too valuable to use.
“No. I decide what we’re taking.” I dump everything on the ground. “You can tie the supplies into bundles when I’ve sorted them.”
I want to make sure I get what I need. Lali raises her eyebrows but she doesn’t argue. “You’re the runner.”
That’s right. And I’m in charge. As Lali strings the supplies together, I stack the things we can’t carry back into the boat.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I say. “The canoe is ready if you want to travel in a different direction. Don’t you have any plans?”
“I thought I would find a small village where my skills with medicinal herbs would be welcome. That can wait. I’m going with you. You can depend on me to help deliver the message.”
“I’ll be faster on my own,” I argue.
“It will take longer if you get lost. I promise I’ll keep up,” insists Lali.
“You’ll slow me down. I don’t want you to come. You talk too much and you try and tell me what to do all the time.”
There. I sai
d it. Now she’ll sulk and go her own way.
But Lali looks at me as if I’m stupid. “You’ll never make it on your own, Atl. You need my help.”
I don’t, though I can see that nothing I say will make her leave. So I’ll wait until the moment when her back is turned and I’ll be gone. Even if she tries to follow, she’ll never catch me. Every year the temple holds a footrace and every year, I win.
Pum-pum. Pum-pum.
I must find shelter from the sun’s angry stare. Ichtaca released me to carry the Night Owl’s message but the Serpent-Sun god still wants my blood. Night Owl and Serpent-Sun god bicker like human brothers. And once again, I have no choice. I’m forced to run through the middle of their squabbling. It makes my head hurt.
Soon I’ll be in the forest. On my own. Everything will be better then.
“What are you grinning about?” Lali catches the smile on my face.
“Just looking forward to stretching my legs. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE CAPTAIN
Stroke, stroke.
The Captain grinds the oars, the boat creaking under his strength. Sweat glistens against muscles carved by long hours of practice. He didn’t notice the pain then and he doesn’t notice it now.
It would take the boy five times as long to travel across the lake. Those scrawny little temple slave arms have never lifted anything heavier than a scribing chisel. I’m coming, boy. Race and run. Huemac imagines the snap of thin wrist bones, crushed beneath his powerful grip.
Crack-ack. The bone breaks and the boy is helpless. But it’s only imagination. The victim must be returned alive and intact or the sacrifice will be tainted.
If the Serpent-Sun god is not appeased, Mexica will fall. Huemac is not happy to have abandoned his men but he knows they are well trained. They will fight bravely on without their leader but they will never win until the boy is back where he belongs. Sigh. Huemac must handle the boy with care. He cannot afford to risk breaking even one little bone.
Still, the boy will scream. They always do when the priest’s obsidian knife pierces through to the heart. Huemac sniffs deep, his nostrils clogged with the thick sweet scent of blood. Out here on the lake beneath the pale morning sun, it’s easy to imagine.
“For Mexica.” The Eagle Warrior’s voice screeches across the water and ahead of him, a flock of ducks take wing – afraid of the predator in their midst.
Is the boy afraid? Huemac wonders. Does he hear my call and cower in his canoe? The boy cannot hide behind the temple High Priest’s robes any more. This is a day filled with promise.
There are two of them now. Huemac saw the second set of footprints, where another boy aided the escape attempt. Twice as many sacrifices will make the gods twice as pleased. The lake water churns as the Captain hunts down his prey.
Stroke, stroke.
Huemac grins, teeth bared in a cruel crocodile smile. Yes, the boy and his friend will lie across the sacrificial table soon enough.
Mexica will triumph and Huemac will be its hero.
CHAPTER SIX
HUNTED
I set a fast pace, to make it difficult for Lali to keep up. Gradually, the ground changes, hardening beneath the thump of our feet. Mud dries on our sandals. Grass turns to bushes that poke and scratch my bare knees. Bush grows into trees. And finally, the shade looms cool and green over my head.
Inside the dark forest my headache begins to ease. The trees crowd protectively around our path. Freedom calls to me and I race as fast as I can in the direction of its voice.
“We should have reached the path by now,” Lali puffs. “Maybe this isn’t the right way.”
“I decide which way to go. You don’t have to come with me, remember. You can leave any time you want to.”
Lali ignores my suggestion. “I think you should climb a tree and check.”
“I was about to do that anyway,” I snap.
I like climbing trees. Sometimes, when I wanted to hide, I climbed the great oak in the temple courtyard. No one ever saw me, tucked inside its green branches. It was as close to being free as a slave could get.
“This one should do.” Lali points to a tall pine tree. “It’s about the same size as that tree you’re always skulking in at the temple.” She grins.
She’s more annoying than a summer gnat. If only I could wave my hand and flick her away.
Digging my feet and fingers into the trunk, I claw my way up and away from her. When I reach the place I want, I perch like a parrot.
West across the mountain, my eyes follow the trade path towards Purépecha and drift into the lands beyond. We’re heading in the right direction. But there’s still such a long way to run. Behind me I can see the outline of Tenochtitlan’s great buildings beneath the thin smoky mist. The Serpent-Sun god slithers across the water, playing tricks and creating shadows. One dark splodge wavers against the lake and refuses to disappear. Now I see it. Now I don’t. I’m sure it’s a boat!
“Lali,” I yell. “Climb quick.”
Her eagle vision will be able to see what my eyes can’t.
She climbs carefully. Slow as a sloth.
“Hurry up.”
“What’s the rush?” she says.
I haul her up beside me. “Look.”
No one ventures out on the lake except fishermen and the occasional traveller. No one would be fishing or travelling this morning. The sentries would kill deserters who tried to leave when their duty was to defend the city. We were lucky to get out before the alarm was raised.
“It’s just a canoe. And there’s only one person in it. Nothing to worry about.” She giggles. “Doesn’t look like anyone has sent an army after you. I guess you’re not as important as you think you are.”
She doesn’t understand. What if it is the Captain? He’s more terrifying than the armies of Spain and Mexica marching together.
“Is it a man?” My heart hammers.
“Yes. Just one. An Eagle Warrior.”
“It’s the Captain of the Temple Guard,” I whisper.
Lali looks uncomfortable. Startled like a deer.
“What makes you think that?” Her voice is clipped and tight.
She’s hiding something. But I’ve got more important things to worry about. I am certain it’s the Captain. By nightfall yesterday the city gates would have closed, so no one could go in or out. But the Captain of the Temple Guard could order the soldiers to let him pass through. It can only be him.
Death is rowing towards me with slow, calculated strokes.
“We’re going to have to split up,” Lali says. “I’ll lead him away.”
I shake my head. “Why would he follow you? I’m the one the Captain wants.” She must be really frightened. She’s not making any sense.
Lali ignores my question. “Why would he follow you?” she asks.
“It’s a matter of honour. First, it was personal and he swore an oath of revenge on his wife’s death. But then I was supposed to be sacrificed and he was determined to make sure it happened.”
Lali breathes deep. Blinks hard. “In that case, it will be him. I know the Captain. He would regard it as his duty to bring you back,” she says, making her way downwards. “He will think you have cheated the temple and the gods are angry with Mexica. We must run even faster than before.”
I don’t need to be told that.
“You’re not coming with me.” I’m right behind her. “I thought we just agreed to split up.”
“I have to come.” She pushes past a branch that rebounds to smack me in the face. “I promised I’d help you and now your mission is even more difficult.”
Lali can climb quickly when she wants to. We’re nearly at the bottom already.
“It’s too dangerous.” I spit pine needles from my mouth. “The Captain will kill anyone he catches helping me.”
She stares into my face. “A promise is important. You can’t throw it away just because that makes life easier.”
Of course you ca
n. I threw away my promise to Ichtaca and I’ve got no regrets.
“All right.” I haven’t got time to waste arguing. “We’ll run together. If we can’t outpace the Captain, maybe we can find somewhere to hide before he catches up to us.”
“I’ve heard there are caves in the mountain foothills,” Lali suggests.
It’s the best idea I’ve heard so far. It’s the only idea. It’ll have to do.
“Let’s go.” I race along the track with the measured tread of marching feet thumping inside my head. An army can cover thirty miles a day. I bet the Captain can do more than that.
Run, Atl, run.
Like a frightened rabbit bolting for its burrow, I’m running for my life. Nothing can slow me now. Not even Lali who lags at my heels.
Somewhere ahead in the forest, a jaguar growls, low and guttural. I run on.
But when the boy screams, it’s a sound so bloodcurdling even a rabbit would freeze in fear. I stop, falling in a winded heap as Lali barrels into me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THROUGH OTHER EYES
Lali’s bony elbow presses hard against my rib cage. Drawing a deep painful breath, I gather my strength to roll her face first into the leaf litter.
That will teach her to watch where she’s going in future.
But when the jaguar roars again, she doesn’t flinch. She’s very brave. So instead of complaining, I help Lali unhook her bow. She places a lance in my hand and nocks an arrow against the bow’s deer hide string.
Then the boy screams even louder than before.
I’m running as fast as I can, lance ready, with Lali beside me. I’m not afraid to die by the jaguar’s claws. I have belonged to him since the day I was born. The jaguar is not cruel like the Captain or greedy with bloodlust like the Serpent-Sun god. This will be a fair fight without my arms pinned tight against a stone slab. If I deserve to live, I will. And if I die, the jaguar’s roar will fill the forest with stories of my bravery.
When the screaming stops, the silence is much worse. It pushes me forward, even faster.
“We’re coming,” I yell. Just in case the boy can hear. Just in case it helps. Anything to fill the silence.
Jaguar Warrior Page 3
