by G. A. Henty
“Come, I will take you to the royal apartments, and leave you in a room where no one will enter, until I inform Cacama that you are here.”
A few minutes later the young king entered the apartment where Cuitcatl had placed Roger, and embraced him with real affection.
“Truly, I am glad to see you again, Roger Hawkshaw. I am glad to see you for yourself, and I hail you as a counselor, in the strange pass to which we have come. Here are Maclutha, and my sister, Amenche.”
The queen and the princess entered as he spoke, and each gave Roger their hand; which, bowing deeply, he raised to his lips, having before told them that this was the salutation, among his own people, to ladies of high rank.
“We did not think, Roger Hawkshaw, when we last parted, that we should meet again so soon. Who could have believed then that the little band of white men, of whose arrival upon the coast we had heard, would have made their way on to the capital, when the emperor was bent upon preventing their coming? We have trembled for you, and have prayed the gods to protect you; and greatly did we rejoice when we heard, from Cuitcatl’s follower, that you had surmounted all your dangers safely, and joined the whites.
“It has been a strange time here, since you left. I have been, for the most part, at the capital. The news that came, from day to day, of the progress of the whites filled everyone with surprise, and consternation.
“We of the council met daily, but Montezuma passed his time at the shrines and among the priests. He was a brave warrior and a great general, once, but he is no longer himself. My father’s prophecy seems to have unmanned him, and he has given himself up wholly to superstition. I believe in our gods, and pay them due honor; but I do not hold that a man should not think for himself, or that he should trust wholly in the priests, who are but men like ourselves; and who are, methinks, but poor judges of worldly affairs, though wise and learned in matters concerning religion. Montezuma thinks otherwise, and the result is that no orders have been issued, no determination arrived at, and we have the disgrace of seeing a handful of strangers installed in the capital.
“Mind, my counsels have always been that they should be conducted honorably from the coast, and treated as ambassadors; but we have done neither one thing nor the other. They have been loaded with gifts, but forbidden to come here. Yet since they came, in spite of orders, we have seemed as if we feared to meet them; and I blush at the thought of the treacherous plan to destroy them, at Cholula.
“The gods had prophesied that they would find their grave there. But the gods were wrong; and it may be that the God of the whites is more powerful than ours. If not, how is it that they did not avenge the indignities offered to them by the whites, at Cempoalla, where their images were hurled down from their altars? And at Cholula, where the most sacred of all the temples was attacked and captured, and the emblem of the White God set up on its summit?
“You yourself, Roger Hawkshaw, warned us against these Spaniards. You said that they were cruel masters to the people they had conquered, and above all things cruel in the matter of religion, forcing all who came under their sway to accept their God, under pain of death; and that they would slay even you, a white man like themselves, did they know that you did not belong to their people. Tell us what is to be done. Why are these men in our capital? What are their objects? Brave and strong as they are, they cannot hope to overcome a nation, or to force all Anahuac to forsake their own gods and to accept the God of the whites.”
“I know not what are the designs of Cortez, the leader whom you call Malinzin. I should say the Spaniards are here with several motives. In the first place, there is the desire for wealth and spoil; in the second, religious ardor—the desire to bring all within the pale of their Church; in the third place, the love of adventure; and, lastly, the honor they will receive, at the hands of their sovereign, for opening so rich an empire to his arms.”
“You do not think, then, they intend to conquer us?”
“Cortez cannot think of doing so, with the means at his disposal, Cacama; but doubtless he has sent home reports of the richness of the country, and forces many times more numerous than those under his command may be sent out to his assistance.”
“Does he know that you have come hither?” Cacama asked suddenly.
“He does,” Roger replied. “I could not leave the palace without permission, and Malinche told him of the kindness I had experienced at your hands. He himself is uneasy at the position in which he finds himself, uncertain of Montezuma’s intentions, and fearful of an assault; and he bade me try to find out, as far as might be, what was the general opinion respecting the Spaniards.”
“The opinion of the ignorant,” Cacama said, with a contemptuous wave of the hand, “is worth nothing. They go where they are led. They believe what they are last told. They shout when they are told to shout. They have no opinion of their own, upon aught but what relates to themselves.
“Among the nobles, the priests, and the learned there is much division of opinion. At present we wait; but frankly, at any moment a storm may follow the calm. The priests, who of course are bitterly hostile to the strangers, are without doubt working, and they have great power with all. But I should say that, on the whole, you are safer here with me than you would be across the water there. I do not mean that there is any immediate danger, but you must remember that Montezuma has been insulted and humiliated, and made to appear small in the sight of the people. He is one of the proudest of men, and although at present he feigns friendship with the Spaniards, a moment will come when he will revolt against being thus bearded in his capital; and he has but to wave his hand for these invaders to be wiped out.
“However, let us talk of other matters, at present. Of course, you are not thinking of returning tonight?”
“I intended to do so, and the canoe in which I came is waiting for me.”
“We cannot think of letting you go,” Cacama said, decidedly. “I will send an official back, with a message from you saying that you think you can do more, here, than by returning; and that you crave leave to stay for the present, but that you will come over, in the morning, and report to him all that you have learned here. You can leave here soon after daybreak, see your general, and be back again before the full heat of the day.”
As Roger was in no hurry to return, Cuitcatl went out to dispatch an official with the message to Cortez; or rather to Malinche, as the message would then be delivered privately to him; whereas if Cortez were asked for, the man might be brought into his presence when engaged with some of his officers. Roger did not know whether the fact of his being away from the palace had been made public, for Cortez might consider it would cause discontent among some of his followers, were it known that their last-joined recruit was permitted to leave the town, whereas no one else was allowed to stir beyond the limits of their quarters.
BY RIGHT OF CONQUEST [Part 3]
CHAPTER 15
Again At Tezcuco
Until a late hour in the night, Roger sat talking to Cacama and his family. Although they had heard, from Bathalda, all that had happened from the time of their leaving Tezcuco to their arrival at Tlascala, he had to go over it again. Bathalda had told them that Roger had found a former acquaintance in Malinche, who was all powerful with the white leaders; and Amenche asked many questions concerning her—how Roger had known her before, and for how long; what she was like, and why he applied to her, instead of going straight to the white general.
“You have heard me speak of her before,” Roger said, in answer to the first question. “I told you that I had learned your language from a Mexican slave girl, who was one of my attendants during the time I was at Tabasco. She was with me the whole time I was there, and if it had not been for learning the language from her, and conversing with her, I do not know how I should have got through the time. I was sorry to leave her behind, and promised her that, if ever I got rich enough here, I would send and purchase her freedom.”
“You seem to have taken a strange
interest in a slave girl!” Amenche said.
“It was natural that it should be so, Princess. I was little better than a slave, myself. At any rate I was a prisoner, and naturally took to the one person who was kind to me. We were companions and friends, rather than master and attendant; and directly I heard that she was with Cortez, and had gained great influence with him, I naturally went to her.”
“Is she very beautiful?”
“I used not to think her beautiful at all, when we were at Tabasco together; but she has changed greatly during the months that have passed since I saw her. Yes, I think she is certainly beautiful now. But not so beautiful as others I have seen.”
“But why did you go to her?” the girl again persisted.
“Because I cannot speak the language of the Spaniards; and it was necessary, for my safety, for them to believe that I am one of themselves, rescued from some Spanish ship cast, by a gale, on their shores when I was a little lad. Had I gone to Cortez direct, he would probably have guessed, from my dress and from my speaking the language, that this was how I came to be here; but had I not seen Malinche before I saw him, she would have recognized me, and would no doubt have told Cortez that she had known me from the time I was cast ashore, near Tabasco, somewhat over two years ago. He would then have known that I could not be a Spaniard, for if so, I could not in so short a time have lost my own language.”
Cacama now interposed, and asked many questions about Tlascala and its people.
“Some of the Tlascalan princes and caziques gave their daughters as wives to the Spaniards, did they not?”
“Six of them did so,” Roger replied. “The ladies were first baptized into the Christian religion, and then married by the priests to as many of the chief leaders of the Spaniards.”
“And what did you think of that?” Cacama asked.
“I did not think much about it,” Roger said; “for it was no business of mine, but that of the ladies and their friends. It was certainly a politic course, on the part both of Cortez and the Tlascalans, and bound the alliance more closely together.
“But methinks that, upon such work as the Spaniards are engaged in, a man were better without a wife, both for his sake and her own. A man who goes into battle with no one but himself to think of may take joy in the strife; for he knows that, if he falls, it makes no very great matter to anyone. But if he has a wife hard by, who will be left a widow if he is slain, it must be ever present to him while he is fighting; and though he may not fight less stoutly, it must cause him grievous anxiety, and take away the pleasure of fighting.”
“You have already told us that the white men are good husbands,” the queen said.
“I do not know that they are in any way better, in that respect, than your own people, Queen Maclutha. There are good and bad—men who treat their wives well, and men who neglect them.”
“But you told us that they only had one wife, each,” she said; “and that even kings are kept to this rule, as well as their humblest subjects.”
“That is so,” Roger said. “One man one wife, whatever his rank. There is no occasion for the palaces of our king to be as extensive as those of Montezuma.”
“And if these officers who have married here were to return home, and leave their wives behind them, could they not marry again?”
“No,” Roger said; “as the ladies have become Christians, and been married according to the rites of the Church, they could not be lawfully set aside.”
“And you have no wife in England, Roger Hawkshaw?” Cacama asked.
Roger laughed merrily.
“Why, I was but a boy when I left home; and as far as marriage goes, I am but a boy still. We consider it young enough, if we take a wife at five and twenty; and I lack six years of that, yet.”
“You are a man,” Cacama said gravely. “You are a man in size and strength, and a man in courage; as you well showed, the other day, when you were attacked by numbers of our best soldiers. You are thoughtful and prudent. Years go for nothing. You are a man, and even in years you are not, according to our customs, too young to marry.
“Now, tell me—we have heard much of that bad business at Cholula—tell me, do you think that there was treachery on the part of the people, or was it a mere pretext of the Spaniards to fall upon the inhabitants, and sack the town?”
“I am sure that treachery was intended,” Roger said. “We learned it from three people, a lady and two priests; and the Cholula nobles, themselves, when taxed by Cortez with their intention to fall upon us, admitted that the accusation was true. Besides, the whole people were under arms and ready to attack, and poured out under their leaders to the assault, the moment the first gun told that their intentions were discovered. No, there is no doubt, whatever, that a general destruction of the white men was intended; and although the punishment inflicted was terrible, I cannot say that it was not justified, under the circumstances.
“Moreover, we knew that there was a Mexican army, lying but a short distance away, in readiness to enter the town and join in the attack against us.”
“It was a terrible error, as well as a crime on the part of the emperor, if it be true that he was concerned in it,” Cacama said. “If so, he took no one here into his counsel, but acted wholly on the advice of the priests.”
“That is where the general considers the danger lies. He would trust the caziques, for men of rank in whatever country are faithful to their word, and do not pretend friendship when they mean hostility. Were Montezuma guided by them, there would be no fear of treachery; but as he has given himself to the priests, and they can, by means of the oracles, persuade him to almost anything, Cortez feels that the danger is great.”
“Well now, we had better to rest,” Cacama said, rising. “You are to start with the first streak of light, so as to be back before the sun is high, and it is long past midnight now.
“Cuitcatl, it would, I think, be well for you to accompany our friend. A rumor may have got abroad that he is again our guest, and those who longed for his blood, before, may long for it again. I would not that he should cross the lake unattended.”
“I was about to propose doing so,” the young noble said. “I know the priests, and can guess that, at present, a white victim is what they most of all desire. Therefore, I will certainly accompany him to Mexico.”
Roger and his Mexican friend were taken across the lake in a canoe, rowed by four strong men. It was one of the private canoes of the palace, without the royal insignia; used for the conveyance of messengers, and built for speed. She took them across to the capital in a very short time and, entering one of the canals, landed them close to the palace occupied by the Spaniards.
The sentry at the gate was surprised at the height of the young Aztec chief who approached, and did not recognize him until he spoke. Even then he would not let him pass, until he called an officer.
“I have been absent by the order of the general,” Roger said.
“I have no doubt it is all right,” the officer replied, “but I must take you to him.”
Cortez had only just risen, for the hour was still very early, and the sun was but now showing himself over the mountains to the east. He was taking a cup of chocolate.
“That is all right,” he said to the officer, as soon as he saw Roger. “Sancho has been absent upon my orders.”
He then called Malinche from an adjoining room.
“You are back earlier than I expected,” he said, as soon as the interpreter entered. “Have you any serious news?”
“No, General. Cacama is himself friendly. He is unaware of any treacherous designs on the part of the emperor, but admits that the situation is a critical one, and that it is possible the influence of the priests may again induce Montezuma to take a hostile action.”
“Do you think we could count upon him as an ally?”
“I think not, sir; although I have not as yet sounded him. Cacama has been very badly treated by Montezuma, and he by no means approves of the emperor’
s conduct throughout this matter, but I think that his patriotism would overcome his sense of private wrong. I can tell you more farther on. Cacama has invited me to stay with him, for the present, and I think I might be of more use to you there than here.”
“I think so, too,” Cortez said; “and indeed, you have not yet entered my band regularly, like the rest. It is right that you should have freedom of action, especially as you are the only man among us who knows anything of the Mexicans; for even Marina knows nothing of this side of the mountains.”
“Don’t you think that you will run great risk in staying there alone?” Marina asked, on her own account.
“Some danger, no doubt, Malinche; but I shall be on my guard, and Cacama will take precautions for my safety. Even the priests would not venture to seize me in his palace, and the Tezcucans are far less bigoted than the people of this city.”
“I do not think he will be in much greater danger there than he would be here,” Cortez said, when these remarks were translated to him. “We are all in danger. We are sitting on a mine that may explode any minute. The young fellow is sharp witted, and with his knowledge of the language and the people can be trusted to take care of himself.
“Sancho, if anything should happen to us, and you should hear that we have been destroyed, I charge you to carry the news to the coast, and to order in my name that all shall embark on board ship and sail to Cuba. It would be useless to try to maintain a foothold here. Spain would avenge it, and with ampler means than mine carry out the conquest of this country.”
A few minutes later, Roger, having said goodbye to Juan and Pedro, and told them that he might be absent for some time, started to Tezcuco. They had scarcely left the town, when a canoe with six rowers issued from one of the canals and followed in their wake.
