by Barry Sadler
Cortes's first impression of the master of the Aztecs was of a dark, handsome man of great dignity and bearing, wearing golden sandals set with gems and a few articles of jewelry in the likeness of birds or beasts, made with incredible delicacy. Servants walked ahead of him, taking off their mantles and laying them down so that their master would not have to walk on the bare earth. Two hundred lords came next. Some of them Cortes had seen earlier. All were barefoot but dressed more richly than those who had greeted him first on the causeway. Moctezuma walked in the center of the street, and the rest of his retinue followed, hugging the walls and keeping their faces downcast so that they might not look directly into the face of their lord, for that would have shown irreverence.
Cortes dismounted from his horse and stepped forward by himself to greet Moctezuma. He started to embrace the king but stopped when Moctezuma withdrew as if a bit frightened. Gifts were exchanged. Cortes gave Moctezuma a necklace of cut glass, and Moctezuma presented Cortes with a necklace of gold, hung with finely worked images of shrimps an inch long, which he put around the neck of the conquistador with his own hands. It was an act which awed those of the Aztec party, for it was a sign of great favor and honor for the king to actually touch another man.
If those in the city had known of the way their king regarded the newcomers, they would have understood his manner of deference, but only a few of his closest advisers knew his secret – that these men were indeed the god in his many manifestations returning to claim the land. Not all with whom he had spoken agreed with him. To them the strangers were only that and no more. They were men with strange weapons and faces but certainly not gods, though the more superstitious called them such.
Together, Moctezuma and Cortes entered the city of Tenochtitlan passing tall houses on either side of the street. The roofs were covered with the people of the city, who gazed in amazement at the strangers with fair skin and hair, their beards, horses, and weapons of steel. Moctezuma led them a short distance to the courtyard of the house of Axayacatl, where the most sacred idols were kept for special festivals. At the door, Marina translated Moctezuma's words for Cortes to hear.
"Our lord, you are weary. The journey has tired you, but now you have arrived on the earth. You have come to your city, Mexico. You have come here to sit upon your throne, to rest under its canopy.
"The kings who have gone before have guarded it and preserved it for your coming. The kings Itzicoatl, Moctezuma the Elder, Axayacatl, Tizoc, and Ahuitzol ruled for you in the city of Mexico. The people were protected by their swords and sheltered by their shields.
"This was foretold by the kings who governed your city, and now it has taken place. You have come back to us. You have come down from the sky. Rest now and take possession of your royal house. Welcome to your land, my lord!
"You are now in your house. Eat, rest, and enjoy yourself, and I shall return later."
Cortes responded through Marina, speaking loudly and firmly so that no one would hear the quiver of nervous excitement in his voice: "Tell the king that we are come as his friends. There is nothing to fear. We have wanted to see him for a long time, and now we have seen his face and heard his words, and it is good. Tell him that we love him and that our hearts are content to be in his presence."
Thus it was that Cortes had at last come to the city of Mexico and met with the king Moctezuma on November 8, 1519. He did not notice that as he spoke, Moctezuma's eyes often went to the commonly dressed soldier behind him, a soldier with a scarred face.
Casca found a place in the courtyard where he could keep some distance between himself and the other infantry men. It was well that he had kept his own counsel and company during the time he had been with the forces of Cortes. Because of that, he could lose himself among them and if questioned could always say that he was with another unit. His only regret was having to walk now, for he could not claim his horse without making his return known.
A request for Cortes to dine with the king that evening came shortly after the Spaniards had settled down. Even with the words of welcome, Cortes did not relax his vigilance. Guards were posted as they always were.
Cortes could hardly have imagined the emperors of ancient Rome dining in more majesty or being treated more regally. None of Moctezuma's people were permitted to sit in his presence or wear shoes or look him in the face, with the exception of a few great lords he was fond of or needed. Among the Spanish, only Cortes was given this privilege, and Cortes made it clear to his men that under no circumstances would they offend the customs of this king.
Moctezuma changed his clothes four times a day, never wearing the same outfit twice. His castoffs were given as presents to those who served him, and they were greatly prized for having been next to the skin of the king.
He was an unusually clean man, bathing twice a day, a thing which astonished most of the Spaniards, who thought too much bathing would wash away the protection that a good coat of grease and dirt gives the body. At a small, informal dinner such as the one Cortes attended, the dishes were served at one time by four hundred pages who were all the sons of nobles. Moctezuma would make his choices, indicating those he preferred, and the dishes would be set on braziers to keep them warm. Once he had made his selection for dinner, as many as fifteen or twenty of his most beautiful wives would enter to serve the dishes as he wanted them. There were several old men of good family who sat by the king's side and took morsels from his dishes and ate them with great reverence, never looking at his face. During the meal, clowns, hunchbacks, and dwarfs performed acrobatics for the king's pleasure.
When the meal was finished, what was not eaten was given to the warriors of his household guard. Each day, all three thousand of them were fed from the leftovers from the king's table. The plates were as fine as any potter in Spain could have made, and they too were never used for more than one meal. When the meal was formally finished and the table cleared, those he chose to talk or visit with would remain. The others would withdraw quietly. Only his servants, who stayed at the far end of the hall, where they could see if their master wished anything from them, were permitted to stay.
It was after this meal that Moctezuma spoke again to Cortes. Marina and Geronimo kept their eyes averted from the face of the king. They were permitted in this place only as the servants of Cortes, and she was not given or offered food. They were there only to translate. Moctezuma wondered why this manifestation could not speak his tongue and the scar-faced one could. Another mystery.
Moctezuma spoke gravely and seriously with all the dignity of his office. Only the two kinsmen whom he trusted were permitted to hear his words. He knew that there were those who did not approve of his actions. To Cortes he bowed his head.
"My lord, I am pleased that you have come to my house at last. If I begged you not to come before, it was because my people were afraid of you and your wild beasts and because you have come from heaven and brought the thunder with you. I know that your warriors are mortal men and that you are the manifestation of he who was promised, as I said earlier. You know that with your coming there have been rebellions against me and that some of my vassals have become my foemen. But I will deal with them as they merit in time.
"Do you see that I am only a mortal man like any other and not a god, though I have to maintain my dignity for the sake of my high office? The houses you see are only common things made of sticks and mud, and there are few such as this poor place of stone. I tell you this so that you should know the truth of my possessions, which are now yours. Yes, we have some gold and silver that you value for some reason most highly, whereas for us the swords you wear are worth more than ten times their weight in gold or silver, for we do not have such metal in my land. But what gold and silver we have is also yours and will be brought to you when you wish it done. For as you and you alone know, we have met before, and as you said you would, you have come again."
These words confused Cortes somewhat. He could only believe that perhaps Marina and Geronimo were not
able to translate literally everything the king said. Still, if the king wished to think him a god or a god's aspect, who was he not to let him do so, for it would greatly simplify what he wished to do. He knew now that he could take all Mexico through the use of Moctezuma as his servant and vassal. Through the mouth of Moctezuma would go the words that would deliver to him the wealth, the land, and the people of this valley.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As Moctezuma left Cortes, Casca moved behind him. Ignoring the Eagle knights of the king's escort, he spoke softly so that only Moctezuma could hear him. "We must meet tomorrow at my temple in the city. I shall be waiting for you at midday. Order the priests there to leave the temple and not return until you command it."
When the king left, the door was immediately secured by the Spaniards, a crossbowman and two arquebusiers placed in front of them with their ungainly matchlocks. Casca thought that the crossbows were more practical, had as much range, and were faster to load, but the muskets had a greater effect on the minds of the Indians. He wondered how long the fear of such weapons would last and when the Indians would stop believing them to be magical devices. In time, if they had time, they would lose much of their fear of the Spaniards and their weapons. Familiarity removes many fears, and once the Indians no longer saw the Castilians as nearly mystical beings, things would change rapidly.
In the morning, Moctezuma came to take Cortes on a tour of his city. The island had sixty thousand houses and a population of three hundred thousand. There were palaces, temples, streets and markets for vendors and merchants, and places where justice was given and punishments and rewards meted out.
With their escorts they went to the teocalli of the war god Huitzilopochtli and Texcatlipoca, his brother, the god of plenty and harvests. Each temple was like a small city of its own, served by specific villages who were responsible for its upkeep and the maintenance of its priests. Around the temples were altars and chapels used as sepulchers for the nobles as well as places of devotion and sacrifice. The temples were all placed so that the people who prayed to the rising sun would face them in their devotions.
Each entrance to the teocallis had large halls with connecting chambers on either side where arms and supplies were stored. Other chambers with small, dark doors held the images of the gods. Hundreds of idols, all of them black with human blood, were tended by the devout. Each idol had to be cared for. After a sacrifice, blood was collected and brought to these dark places, and each of the idols was washed in it. The cloying, sweet, sickening odor of death that was exuded from these chambers made more than one Spaniard feel the need to vomit from the purulent stench. It didn't seem to bother the priests at all, for they came every day to tend their masters and pray.
Moctezuma led the way up the terraces, each one smaller than the last, until they reached the top, over two hundred feet in height. At the top were two large altars set close to the edge of the platform. Their sides were painted with the different aspects of the gods and their minions. To the Spanish, all of them were horrible demons and devils. Most horrible of all were the huge idols of the gods Huitzilopochtli and Texcatlipoca, which were made of stone weighing several tons and stood over twice the size of a tall man. They were covered over in mother-of-pearl in which were set precious stones: emeralds, rubies, pearls, and topazes. Around their waists like belts were thick snakes of gold; on the neck, each wore a necklace of golden hummingbirds. There was a golden mask set on each head with polished eyes of obsidian, and at the backs of their heads, a dead man's face looked out.
Each altar had a small chapel of carved wood with three levels, one above the other. Seen from a distance, they looked like tall towers.
From there, Cortes and his escort, which included Juan, who looked very proud at being granted the honor of attending his leader, had their first look over the city of Tenochtitlan. The waterways were crowded with boats, rafts, and canoes, bringing the things the city required: food, slaves, gold, and reeds from the marshes. Cortes sucked in his breath. Only now did he realize how much he had gambled for.
This was a greater city than Venice, more beautiful and richer, and it was being offered to him. If he wished, he could be king of this land and keep it for himself as his own domain. The thought was appealing, but he knew that it would not do. He was only the first of his race to come; soon there would be others. If he could gain the power he had over the Indians, others could do the same. It was difficult to push the thought of having his own kingdom away, but he knew that there was no choice. If he claimed these lands for himself rather than the king, it wouldn't be long before he would be assassinated by one of his own men.
Moctezuma told him of the priests and acolytes who served the god. At this one site, five thousand men were in constant attendance to serve the god's needs. Not even the Pope in Rome had such completely devoted servants in such numbers, for this was only one temple in a city of temples.
When they left the temple of the war god and his brother, they passed what resembled a theater built from the skulls of enemies taken in battle. The skulls were set so that they faced teeth outward. At the upper part of the theater were hundreds of tall poles, five spans apart, into which pegs had been driven, each of them holding five skulls impaled through the temples. Juan de Castro tried to count them one day and lost track at over a hundred thousand.
During the tour, the Spaniards said little, astonished by the magnificence of the city and the horror of its religion. Many rosaries were touched and silent Hail Marys said by the devout on their visit.
Moctezuma bade Cortes forgive him as he had duties yet to attend to. Then he left the Spaniard at his new house.
With a small guard of two hundred Eagle knights escorting his litter, Moctezuma went to the temple of the Quetza. It was round instead of a pyramid, for this temple was dedicated to the god in his aspect of the wind and air, for the air encompasses the sky. At the entrance, he left his escort behind with orders not to come in after him or disturb him. He had to speak to the god alone. His knights obeyed, watching the back of their king as he entered through a door carved like a serpent's head with the fangs extended.
The priests normally in attendance to the god were not to be seen, as he had ordered. The inside of the temple was decorated with painted frescoes and bas-relief carvings of the god Quetzalcoatl. Of all the gods of Mexico, he was the most peculiar, for he had more faces than any other and was the most complicated. The gods of war and harvests were easy to understand. The war god needed the hearts of warriors to feed him, and the lord of harvests required the blood of virgins to be spilled into the earth to renew the seasons. But the Quetza was different in all things. At the same time he was the god of learning, the god of the evening star, and the god of the air and the winds. He was the only one who had been given, by the wise men and shamans, a date on which he would return to the valley – 1 Reed!
Moctezuma bowed low before the altar. A golden serpent with eyes of rubies curled around a disk representing the sky and heavens glowered at him. He lowered his eyes from the stones before the altar and waited.
"I am pleased that you have come. Rise and listen to me. We have things which must be said."
Moctezuma obeyed, lifting his eyes to see Casca seated on the lowermost golden coil of the serpent idol. Over his face was the jade mask, and on his shoulders, covering his breastplate of Spanish steel, was a cloak made with the tiny breast feathers of hummingbirds. The cloak had taken a master weaver three years to make, an iridescent work of art that breathed and moved with a life of its own with lights of blue and green interwoven and burning. Tens of thousands of tiny of sparkling light danced with the flickering of dozens of oil lamps set around the altar. Over his head, the figure of the golden serpent watched the king of the Aztecs with malevolent ruby eyes, its white fangs bared and ready to strike.
Casca had thought long about what he should say. The words were not easy or what he knew had to happen pleasant. To see this proud man kneeling before him, thinking hi
m a god, was not something he relished, but there was no other way.
"Listen to me carefully. I know that you are confused and frightened by what is happening. Do not be. If Cortes does not seem to understand why you say certain things to him, do not worry, for he is only part of me and has no need to know certain things. But I hear and understand. That is all you need to know. A time of trial is coming for you and your people. Your world as you know it is going to end. You cannot save it."
Moctezuma sobbed out, "Do you mean that we shall all die?"
Casca shook his head, his eyes sad behind the stone mask. "Not all and perhaps not many. That is the mission I give you, to save the lives and much of the culture of your nation. From this day there is no going back. If your people resist the Spanish, then they will be destroyed utterly, never to rise again. Cortes and his warriors will make mistakes and will offend many by their manner; that is of no import. Keep those they offend under control, even to giving up your own life. I know that what I demand is not easy for you and that many of your nobles will not accept it without struggle. Some of them will try to kill the Spaniards. Do not let them succeed.
"If these ones who have come to your city are destroyed, then you will have no hope at all for the future of your nation, for others like them will come. As do locusts, they will ravage your land and take it for themselves, leaving your people only the ashes of memory to sustain them. And they will die not only from battles but from a sickness of the soul they will not be able to resist, and your nation shall be cast down."
Moctezuma wept openly, for all this had been predicted long ago. "I will obey, lord, but is there no other way? Cannot the other gods help us? Can they not save us? Speak to them for us. Ask them to aid us, for they are your brothers and will listen to you."
