Aztec

by Colin Falconer

"I am aware of what the Church prescribes. You shall assist Father Olmedo in the morning. They will all be baptised into the True Faith then."

  Aguilar seemed appeased. "Thank you."

  Cortés found the girl staring at him again. What was it? Curiosity? Fear? No, something else, impossible to define. She lowered her eyes again, but slowly. He felt a slow tingling, at the nape of his neck. Something had just happened. He was not sure what it was.

  Malinali

  A god!

  He has corn silk hair and blue eyes, and his skin is pale, almost pink. The cacique had ordered us to keep our eyes lowered, so as not to offend the Lords of Thunder, but I have to look, I cannot help myself.

  As we women gather in the shade of a ceiba tree the strange creatures cluster around us.

  There, another God!

  He is taller than the others, with a beard shaped like an arrowhead; but it is his hair that I find most startling. It is the colour of fire, the colour of the sun which flashes on the gold medal at his neck and the gold rings on his fingers.

  Everything here is dazzling, frightening, fascinating. Over there a dog, but unlike any dog I have ever known, a great red-eyed slavering creature with terrible teeth, a monster plucked from the realms of Mictantlecutli, a beast like that which guards the gates to the underworld. I try not to show it my fear, even as I hear the other girls shriek and draw away from it. The god with the fire-coloured hair laughs at them.

  The ground thunders beneath my feet. I turn around and now I see for myself one of the great two-headed monsters that so unnerved and defeated our warriors. But I can see at once that the beast does not have two heads after all; the reality is far more astounding. For even as I watch, I see one of the gods dismount from the creature, which is as tall as a house and has feet of stone. It is breathing smoke. It seems the gods can sit astride these beasts and make them do their bidding. How is such a thing possible?

  Out on the river is the great canoe they speak of, flying a banner with the red cross of Feathered Serpent. There can be no doubt. The day has finally come.

  "Look," I whisper to Rain Flower.

  "I see it, Little Mother."

  "I told you! It has happened!"

  But still I cannot see him. I know he is not the god with the corn silk hair and turquoise eyes, or the fire-haired one ... not any of these other bearded, pink-faced creatures, many of them with faces pitted like lava stone, others with ...

  There!

  For a moment it is hard to breathe. He is just as I have imagined him, as I saw him on the pyramid at Cholula, as he has been depicted a thousand times on statues and carvings and reliefs in temple walls; a dark beard, black hair falling to his shoulders, his face framed by his helmet, which is itself decorated with a quetzal-green plume. The grey eyes watch me intently, as if he too has experienced this same moment of recognition.

  And now he approaches.

  Chapter 7

  The girl fell to her knees, touched the earth with her fingers, then brought them to her lips. Cortés returned the greeting, bowing and presenting her with the slightest smile.

  "My Lord Quetzalcóatl," the girl said, in her own language, and then in Chontal Maya. "Feathered Serpent."

  Cortés turned to Aguilar. "What did she say?”

  Aguilar stared at her. He appeared flustered. "Just a traditional greeting," he said. But his eyes stayed on the girl long after Cortés had moved on to inspect the others and instinctively Malinali knew she had found an enemy.

  Malinali

  They have erected a large wooden cross in the shade of two palm trees, and below it, hung from a nail on one of the trees, is a picture of a mother suckling a baby. It is clear to me what ceremony we are about to undertake. All Persons know that the cross is a symbol of fertility and the painting on the tree makes it quite clear to us what they want.

  The gods wish to mate with us.

  I know I should be frightened. I heard the other girls whispering about it last night. Rain Flower said that the gods' penises had claws, which were as sharp as obsidian, and we would all die a terrible death, to horrible to contemplate. Another girl said that the gods' seed would not grow into a Person but into a jaguar, and when the time came for birthing it would tear its way out of our womb with its teeth.

  But they are just stupid Tabascan girls.

  The one called Brother Aguilar has tried to explain to us what is going to happen. But his words were difficult for me to follow. He talks in intricate riddles.

  As we step out of the canoes, the Lords of Thunder line the beach on either side of us. I feel the heat coming from them. Their eyes drink us in.

  The pulse in my temple pounds with excitement, making me light-headed. I wish my father was here to witness this sublime moment.

  Fray Olmedo and Brother Aguilar wait under the palms next to the cross. Feathered Serpent stands to one side. Behind him is the god with the astonishing turquoise eyes, the one called Puertocarrero, and next to him the fire-god. It is silent save for the sound of the wind stirring the palm fronds. It blows from the east, as no doubt he has commanded.

  When I reach the cross, Aguilar orders me to kneel on the sand. Fray Olmedo stands over me, holding a small censer filled with water. He says something to me in a language I do not understand.

  "Say yes," Aguilar says to me, in Chontal Maya.

  I do as he says.

  He then nods at Fray Olmedo who sprinkles my hair with water and speaks quickly in this strange new language. Aguilar puts a hand on my shoulder. "You are saved, thanks be to God. Your new name is Doña Marina. Go in peace."

  Chapter 8

  Twenty women; not enough for all the officers he had with him. The girls were baptised by Fray Olmedo and Brother Aguilar under the ceiba tree. Aguilar made each of them kneel in front of the cross and Fray Olmedo asked them: "Do you renounce the Devil and all his works?"

  Aguilar mumbled something to them in their devil's tongue and then nodded to Olmedo.

  "Do you accept Jesus as your Saviour and his Father, the Lord our God, as the one and only true God?"

  Again, Aguilar whispered to them and gave his assent to the friar.

  When the baptisms were completed, the men watched Cortés, wondering what he would do. He had proved to them his worth as a commander in battle, now they wanted to see if he could be trusted with the spoils.

  One by one he took the women by the hand and led them to one of his officers; he included potential troublemakers such as Ordaz and Leon in the division of the bounty, yet did not forget staunch supporters such as Jaramillo and Sandoval. The less important officers such as Morla and Lugo and de Grado received the girls who were cross-eyed. There was much joking about this. Jaramillo advised them to put sugar bags over the girls’ heads when they mounted them.

  Benitez was a dilemma for him; a good horseman, he had proved himself one of his most valiant at Ceutla, but in Cuba he had the reputation of a firebrand. A potential ally if handled properly, a thorn in the side otherwise.

  There were three girls remaining, the three prettiest. Cortés chose for Benitez a tiny coffee-skinned girl with a hooked nose and bright, dark eyes, like a cat. She was pretty, but she had an arrogant tilt of her head that hinted at a fierce temper. There, that should keep him busy.

  That left two, Malinali and one other, a young heavy-breasted girl. Alvarado and Puertocarrero watched him, ready to be either pleased or affronted, depending on his choice. Would he exclude one of them for the benefit of himself?

  He considered: Alvarado, reckless and loyal, and a good fighter; Puertocarrero, also loyal but as he had shown in the river and at Ceutla, too timid for the fight. But he had excellent breeding and powerful friends at court.

  He gave Alvarado the full-breasted girl and then looked at the one called Malinali. Bright black eyes looked up at him. Well, here was a thing; his ambition pitted against his desire. He promised himself that this was merely deferment, not of loss.

  He took her hand and led her
across the sand to Puertocarrero.

  She did not even try to hide her shock or her dismay at his choice.There, it was done. A murmur of approval among the men. Cortés had proved himself the perfect diplomat.

  It was necessary, he told himself, turning quickly away. There was nothing else I could do. But I will have her, sooner or later, she will be in my bed. I will have her, for there is something there that I must have.

  Malinali

  "He says he will be gentle with you," Aguilar mumbles. He looks uncomfortable. I wonder if it is his intention to stay with me through the night to pass on my new husband's endearments as he penetrates me.

  "Tell him I am a virgin," I say to Aguilar.

  Aguilar seems both surprised and pleased with this news. "It is true? You still have your virtue?"

  "No, but tell him anyway. He will appreciate it."

  The candle gutters in the night breeze. These candles are a new wonder. The hot grease pools on the table, and shadows dance around the walls.

  Aguilar clutches his Book of Hours to his chest. "He wants to know if there is anything you would like to ask him."

  "I would like to know his name."

  "His name is Alonso. Alonso Puertocarrero. He is a Spaniard, and a Christian gentleman, of very good family."

  I try this name on my tongue: Alonso. I repeat it several times. The rest of Aguilar's gibberish, a stew of foreign and Mayan words, means nothing to me.

  "Is there anything else you wish to know?" Aguilar asks me again.

  "Is he a god?"

  Aguilar's cheeks flush to bronze. "There is only one God. Alonso is a poor sinner like the rest of us. "

  Only one God. What nonsense. He must mean there is only one god among those here today, and by that he means, of course, Cortés.

  Aguilar rises to leave. A strange man, of pale complexion and pungent sweats. "If he asks you to do anything ... unnatural ... you do not have to acquiesce."

  This last utterance leaves me perplexed. Any matter concerning the cave of joy seems to unnerve this unlikely priest. "I shall gladly do whatever he asks me to do."

  He hears this and flees from the hut.

  Chapter 9

  Aguilar stumbled away through the darkness. He did not trust this Malinali. Some of the other indian women, the fat ones, the homely round-faced ones, the ones with the unnaturally crossed eyes, well, if he tried he could still imagine there was a soul in them needing salvation. But not this one; he saw the devil behind those black and unfathomable eyes.

  Nothing good would come of this, he was sure of it.

  Malinali

  My new and violet-eyed husband sits down beside me on the sleeping mat of woven reeds. I study him more closely in the light of the candle. I reach out to touch the strange corn silk hair; his beard is wiry but the hair on his head is surprisingly soft to the touch.

  "Cara," he whispers. I wonder why Feathered Serpent did not take me for himself. Perhaps it is as Rain Flower said, no mortal woman can conjugate with gods and live. Despite what I know, I am still a little frightened.

  Perhaps he senses my fear. He lays me gently on my back, strokes my hair, murmurs words to me in his own language. I do not understand him, but the soft timbre of his voice is soothing.

  His body is terrifying and fascinating, at once. He fumbles with the strange fastenings of his clothes. His torso is not smooth, as a Person's; his chest and belly and thighs are covered in curly golden hairs, finer than his beard. I am relieved that Rain Flower's most macabre predictions are incorrect; his maquauhuitl does not have claws. But it is very large when it is swollen like this; perhaps because the Spaniards themselves are so big ...

  There is a smell about him I do not like, but then the gods and their consorts are not known for the beauty of their aromas. I try to ignore it, as I do when I am in the temple.

  My violet-eyed god takes his time, something Tiger Lip Plug had never done. He couples with me face to face, and not from behind, as I am accustomed to. After the first moments of stretching there is no real physical sensation. I am too frightened and overwhelmed by his presence to feel anything.

  Very soon I feel him shudder and spill his seed inside me. From this moment I know my existence on this earth has changed irrevocably; the river of my life has ceased its gentle meandering and is now crashing headlong over cliffs towards the ocean, the ocean that brought Feathered Serpent.

  Chapter 10

  Tenochtitlán

  The three men crawled across the room on their hands and knees. They were barefoot and wore simple white loincloths.

  "Lord, my Lord, my Great Lord," one of them murmured in a shrill voice.

  Montezuma received them in his full splendour. His carmine cloak was made of coyote fur and quetzal feathers and had been embroidered with a border pattern of geometric eyes. A gold lip ornament in the shape of an eagle glinted on his lower lip, and earrings of turquoise glittered in his ears.

  He regarded the men in front of him with distaste, then turned and whispered something to his prime minister, Woman Snake.

  "Revered Speaker wishes to know what it is that brings you here to his palace."

  There was a moment as the three fishermen waited, each hoping that one of his comrades would be the first to speak. Finally, the eldest of them said: "We come from the village of Coatzacoalcos in Tehuantepec. Just four days ago, gigantic canoes without paddles appeared in our bay. They carried the wind with them, wrapped in cloth bundles, and bore great banners emblazoned with crosses of scarlet! The next day we saw creatures with thick beards and helmets of gold that gleamed in the sun. They came ashore and asked for fresh water and food. We gave them all we had, some turkeys and some maize. They stayed for two sunsets then sailed away again on their canoes towards the lands of the east."

  Montezuma's expression would doubtless have terrified the three fishermen if they had dared look up at his face, but they were forbidden under pain of death to do. And so they waited there on their knees unaware of the effect their words had had on their emperor.

  Montezuma composed himself and whispered another question to Woman Snake.

  "Did they leave you anything in return?" Woman Snake asked the fishermen.

  One of the men crawled forward clutching a piece of hardtack. He left it on the marble at the foot of Montezuma's throne. "They told us it was their food," he said.

  At a nod from Montezuma, Woman Snake retrieved the piece of bread and handed it to him. Montezuma weighed it in his palm. The food of the gods was the weight and consistency of a piece of volcanic rock. He tentatively bit at the edge with his teeth but could not break it.

  He again turned and whispered to his Prime Minister.

  "Revered Speaker wishes to know if these creatures said anything else to you."

  "They told us that we must cease making human sacrifices to the gods, or else they would return and punish us."

  Montezuma gasped. In the great vault of the audience chamber it sounded like the hissing of a snake. There could be no mistake. Feathered Serpent had returned, as prophesied.

  His fist closed around the piece of hardtack. He murmured his instructions in Woman Snake's ear.

  "You are to wait in the courtyard for Revered Speaker's pleasure. You are to speak of no one of this, under pain of death."

  Relieved, the men shuffled backwards towards the door, never once turning their backs on the throne.

  After they were gone Montezuma again turned to Woman Snake. "Give them to the priests for sacrifice," he said. "Word of this must not spread."

  "It will be done.”

  Montezuma returned his attention to the divine sustenance now clutched in his fist. "What do you think of this story?"

  "How can we believe the tales of such simple people? Perhaps these strangers are not gods at all. They may be ambassadors from some far-off place."

  "How can that be? Tenochtitlán is the centre of the one world. There is nothing beyond the sea except heaven." Montezuma shook his head. "It
is Quetzalcóatl, Feathered Serpent. These men spoke of a red-painted cross, his banner. He has come from the east, where he last fled into the dawn and he carries the wind, his wind, tied to his canoe. And he spoke of human sacrifice! How can it be other than him?"

  Woman Snake did not answer.

  I have been doomed ever since I took the throne, Montezuma thought. He stared again at the hardtack in his fist, then handed it to his prime minister. "Have this placed in a golden gourd. We shall remove it to the temple of Feathered Serpent in Tollan. Should he return for it he must see that we have treated his property with all reverence."

  "Yes, great Lord."

  After Woman Snake had left Montezuma sat alone in the great audience chamber. The knife of fear twisted in his heart and he threw back his head and gave a small cry, like a wounded animal.

  Potonchan

  She threw back her head and gave a small cry, like a wounded animal.

  By Satan's hairy ass, Benítez thought. A virgin.

  The act of bedding a savage appalled him. He had heard sailors speak of coupling with animals after long months at sea and once this would have seemed just as vile.

  And yet, she was clean, and the smell of her, though strange, was not unpleasant. She was young, he guessed no more than sixteen, and the days when he could entertain notions of bedding a sixteen year old virgin were long gone. Some men might think him fortunate. But memories of what he had seen in that terrible shrine would not leave him.

  Outside the hut, the shrieks of the howler monkeys rent the night, an unlovely chorus from hell.

  Despite his misgivings he took her gently, trying not to hurt her more than was necessary for a woman's first time. In the dancing candlelight he could see that she had a lovely body. At first he was startled by the fact that she had no hair between her legs, but even that did not displease him as much as he supposed it might.