The treasure-room had been unsealed and the trove melted down, to make for easier accounting; the gold figurines, the gold scabbards and gold collars with their pieces of jade and turquoise, the head dresses and masks bossed with gold, all had been stripped and smelted into iron bars, stamped with the royal seal. No value had been placed on workmanship; it was only weight of metal and cut of stone that would buy land and power and women.
"I am aware that you all have been eagerly awaiting reward for your efforts," Cortés began. "You have fought long and hard and showed great loyalty and endurance and I commend you for it."
A ripple of eagerness passed through the crowd. Yes, they had fought hard, and if sufferings were diamonds they would all be grandees.
Their captain-general brought out a scroll of parchment and began to read.
"We have weighed that treasure we found in the hidden chamber, as well as those gifts so far presented to us by Montezuma. We estimate them at a value of three hundred thousand crowns."
A gasp of excitement. Three hundred thousand crowns! A fortune!
"From this we must deduct the quinto real, the royal fifth of the king, and also a further fifth part, for the captain-general of the army, as was agreed by you all at Vera Cruz."
Somewhere in the crowd, Benítez folded his arms, impressed. So, Cortés has voted himself sixty thousand crowns. Not a bad sum.
Cortés went on: "This leaves us with a sum of one hundred and eighty thousand crowns. From this must be deducted my further expenses to fit the expedition in Cuba and we have put aside a further sum to give as compensation to the governor in Cuba, to ensure that he causes none of you further trouble. There must also be a share for the Holy Church and an extra bonus for those men who brought with them their horses, which have proved such a decisive factor in our victories at the Tabasco River and at Texcála. There should also be special consideration for those men who went to Spain to plead our case for us in the court at Toledo."
Well, Benítez thought. That means all the officers and captains, except perhaps for Ordaz and Mejía, will receive handsome commissions. That should ensure their loyalty.
"That leaves us with a sum of sixty-four thousand crowns."
There was a murmur of apprehension through the waiting soldiers.
"We have put aside ten thousand crowns for the families of those who have been called to heaven since the commencement of our expedition. We have split the remainder among the rest of you here, granting that we must also include the one hundred still remaining at the fort in Vera Cruz and granting also a double share for those with arquebuses and crossbows." Cortés consulted the figure on the scroll. "That will leave each man with around one hundred crowns."
Uproar.
The men shouted and waved their fists at Cortés. It was long minutes before order was finally restored.
"Must you cause so much trouble over so little?" Cortés shouted. "This meagre treasure is nothing to what we shall gain in the future! There are hundreds of rich cities in this land and as many gold mines!"
"And when you allot the shares we will again receive a dribble in the flood!" It was Norte, of all people.
"Be silent!" Cortés hissed. "Mind what you say or I will have you punished!"
"One hundred pesos will not buy me a new sword!" someone shouted.
"The allotment has been done in accordance with the law!" Cortés shouted. "May you all repent of your greed!" He jumped from the cart and stamped away, the men shouting their insults at his back.
Norte caught Benítez’s eye. "One hundred pesos! Is this reward for all we have been through for him?”
"I did not think the gold concerned you."
"I am just a dirty indian, of course, but what about the others? Flores lost an eye, Guzman a part of his hand at Texcála. They followed him to hell for one hundred pesos?"
"I will put your case to him, Norte. But it will do no good. Do you think I am happy about this?"
"You are a captain. He will take care of you!"
"I will see you have your proper reward. Even if it comes from my own purse."
"I want nothing from you, Benítez."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want ... I want ... " He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I want any more."
Malinali
My lord takes breakfast with the emperor accompanied by Alvarado and Fray Olmedo. They sit down to a table piled with maize cakes sweetened with honey, and a selection of meats, venison, dog, turkey and wild fowl. When they are finished eating they are brought sweet drinks of chocolatl in painted gourds. Then the women who have brought them their food wash their hands with soap tree roots and anoint their feet with copal incense.
When the servants have left, my lord beckons me over to translate for him.
"Mali, I want you to speak to Montezuma for me. Ask him if he has made progress on the re-dedication of the Great Temple."
"I need a little more time," Montezuma tells me, when I relay the question. "This is not something that may be quickly achieved."
For weeks now, he has been stalling on this and for weeks my lord has not pressed him. I wonder when the explosion will finally come.
"My captains grow insistent," my lord says. "I cannot stay them longer. Something must be done now."
Montezuma gives me a shy smile. He relishes my lord's discomfort. He thinks the Thunder Lords will not act against his priests without his approval. I think he underestimates them.
"Tell Lord Malinche it is in his best interests to wait," Montezuma says.
I am losing heart for this. I believe my lord cares more for the gold now. He allows Montezuma to manipulate him. Greed has the better of the god in him.
And yet I notice with some excitement the angry blue pulse of that extraordinary vein at his temple. Something is brewing here. "Soon after I invited Montezuma here to our palace, he promised me that the human sacrifices would stop. I have been patient. But the time for waiting has passed."
Perhaps this is the moment at last. I turn triumphantly on Montezuma. "My lord is very angry now. He has had enough of waiting."
But Montezuma has become complacent. He bestows on me an unctuous smile. "The decision is not mine. You cannot commit sacrilege in our temple. The gods would be very angry. They may not stop at taking all our lives."
How long they have been doing this, tossing responsibility for the gods between each other, like a hot coal taken from a brazier? When will my lord be a god again? When will he put aside his greed for gold and bring the spirit of the mother and the infant to Tenochtitlán?
I pass on what Montezuma has said, perhaps layer it with a little more arrogance than was intended.
"He toys with me, Mali," my lord murmurs.
"Yes, my lord."
Here it is again, the calm ferocity I remember from Cempoallan and Cholula. Fray Olmedo leans forward, hoping to forestall the storm. "We must not act rashly," he whispers. "Day by day we make progress with my lord Montezuma. Through the Lady Marina we have taught him the Creed in his own tongue, even the Lord's prayer."
My lord gives him a look of utter disdain.
Now it is Alvarado's turn. "Caudillo, you know how I deplore their devilish religion, but now is not the time to press the question of the Temple. The treasury is bursting with gold, we must not risk its loss! Puertocarrero must soon return from Spain with reinforcements. Then we may be in a better position to force our demands!"
"We cannot stay our hand any longer and leave our honour unstained. We have done enough for ourselves. Now we must do something for the Lord." He gets to his feet and strides from the chamber. Fray Olmedo and Alvarado stare after him. I see fear on their faces and at last I am glad. Now we hurry to the brink.
Chapter 73
Whatever else they may say about us when the histories are written, Benítez thought, today we are magnificent.
He went ahead, Cortés close behind him, in full armour, sword drawn. The caudillo looked exultant, in
the grip of some great emotion that had transformed his grey eyes into burning coals. Like Benítez, he took the steps two at a time, a picture of the Virgin and Babe under his left arm. Behind him came Alvarado, León, Jaramillo, Malinali, a dozen infantrymen with pikes and swords. Straggling far below, Father Olmedo holding the great Cross, Aguilar with him.
As Benítez reached the top, one of the temple priests came at him with a flint knife. The razor-sharp blade of the Spaniard’s sword sliced through the black robe and the priest fell to his knees screaming and clutching at his entrails as they spilled from his wound.
Another came at him, but he brushed him aside with the hilt this time. He ran inside the temple and tore aside the curtain that led to the shrine.
He was prepared for the stench but still it made him gag. Obsidian eyes gleamed from the darkness; into the lair of Satan now.
Another creature came at him from the gloom but by now Alvarado and three of his infantry were there and they wrestled the apparition onto the blood-caked floor, and pinioned his arms and legs. The other priests shrieked like grackles, the great snakeskin drum boomed as others sounded the alarm. The noise was deafening.
The blood on the walls was like black paste, and thick as plaster. Something black and shrivelled sizzled in a brazier of copal incense. Painted monsters glared at them from the shadows, stone serpents and skulls.
Cortés sheathed his sword and held out his right hand. Aguilar put the iron bar he had been carrying into the caudillo's fist.
"Today we strike a blow for the Lord!" Cortés shouted and leaped into the air, at the same time bringing the bar down in a broad swinging arc into the face of the idol. The obsidian eye shattered, and the golden mask crashed to the stone floor.
The priests howled. Alvarado and his men kept them at bay.
Cortés reverently placed his picture of the Virgin in a niche in the wall, then fell to one knee and made the sign of the cross. He turned and pointed a trembling finger at the priests. "Tell them should they dare lay a finger on the blesséd image of the Madonna they shall answer for it!"
Malinali quickly shouted a translation of what he had said.
They howled again but retreated as he strode among them. "Doña Marina! Tell these ghouls to remove their devils and whitewash these walls or we shall do it for them!"
He strode back down the steps.
Benítez would have died for him at that moment. Such a calculating bastard, he thought, yet today he acts on a moment of passion. And not one of us here who would not follow him to hell when he is like this. I believe he truly thinks he can conquer the Mexica and their gods by the force of his will alone.
Today he understood why men loved Cortés. The caudillo had made him part of something that was both magnificent and just, a deed he could never have achieved if left to his own ambitions. Today, this cheat, this schemer, this thief, has made me more than I am, and I will always be grateful.
✽ ✽ ✽
Three days later several hundred priests ascended the Templo Mayor and, with elaborate care, laid Hummingbird and Smoking Mirror and Rain Bringer on mats of maguey fibre. They lowered them from the temple to the court below, using ropes and greased planks, where they placed them on litters and carried them out of the city. All of this was done in absolute silence.
The walls and floors of the shrine were scrubbed and whitewashed and Cortés's carpenters built a cross and an altar there. The next day almost the entire Spanish army marched into the temple precinct and ascended the steps for a special thanksgiving Mass.
Cortés had achieved his dream.
Chapter 74
It was a different Montezuma today. What has happened? Cortés wondered. He seemed confident, even tranquil. He reclined on his ypcalli watching his dwarves and hunchbacks tumble and clown for him. They scattered when the Spaniards entered the room.
Montezuma invited his overlords to sit, ordered foaming cups of chocolatl be brought. Malinali took her place beside Cortés and relayed the emperor's pleasantries as he enquired after the well-being of his daughter and his niece. Cortés answered pleasantly, wondering privately what had brought on the emperor's change of mood.
He waited for the emperor to reveal his hand.
"There is something he wishes to discuss," Malinali said. "He says this is difficult for him, but he wants you to know he has always regarded you as his friend."
He thinks to use my own diplomatic words against me, Cortés thought. "Tell him I have always valued his friendship. He is like a brother to me."
Montezuma launched into a long monologue. Cortés watched for Malinali's reaction. She appeared startled. He also noticed that the habitual wheedling tone in Montezuma's voice was gone, another ominous sign.
Finally, the long soliloquy ended and Malinali began a halting translation. "Montezuma says that you are in great danger. He says that he, personally, does not wish to see you come to harm but that his gods are very angry with you. They have watched as you removed him by force from his palace, burned several of his chieftains in the plaza, stole his gold and now insult the gods in their own temples. His priests tell him that Hummingbird and Smoking Mirror cannot remain in Mexico while you and your followers are here. Rather than have the gods desert them his people must fall on you and kill you all, because they love their gods very much, as Montezuma himself has tried to explain to you many times. The people wait only for Montezuma's word. But he hopes that such bloodshed can be avoided. He is giving you the chance to leave peaceably."
"By my conscience, does he intend to dictate to me?"
"Let us see if he is so arrogant with my sword in his guts," Alvarado hissed.
"He has sworn allegiance to the King of Spain and his Holy Church," Aguilar said. "What he says is treasonous."
Cortés put up a hand to end their protests. How many times had they warned him against recklessness and now they themselves wished to attack without knowing how their enemy was armed. "Mali, tell him we thank him for his concern.”
Alvarado gave a snort of outrage.” By Satan's spiny cock, why are we toadying to this ..."
Cortés silenced him with a look.
"We thank him for his concern ... and we are sorry we have brought him so much trouble. Tell him we shall leave immediately ... immediately we have ships to carry us back to our own lands. If he would permit us to fell wood in his forest and allow us some of his own carpenters, we shall set to work on the construction of these craft straight away."
Montezuma beamed. Cortés knew what he was thinking; the end of the nightmare was in sight.
"Caudillo," Alvarado hissed, "they will never let us go! As soon as we release Montezuma ..."
"I understand that, but we must play for time!" He turned back to Malinali. "Tell Montezuma we make this concession not out of fear for ourselves, but because we wish to save this city from the complete destruction that would surely follow any battle. We would do this through concern for his own safety, as he, too, would surely perish in any conflict."
Montezuma's smile vanished when he heard this. The threat was plain.
Cortés rose to leave without waiting for the emperor to formally end the audience. Something had shifted the delicate balance. He had to know what it was.
Malinali
As soon as we reach our quarters, my lord removes his sword and buckler and hurls it to a corner of the room. He upturns his writing desk with a booted foot, then hurls the throne Montezuma has given him against the wall, loosening several of the studded gemstones and sending them spilling across the floor.
His moles and captains watch in terror.
Now he rounds on me. "What is going on?" he shouts.
"He no longer fears you, my lord."
"That much is obvious."
"It may have something to do with the changing of the season. The rains have stopped."
He stares at me, mystified. Perhaps he thinks I mock him. "Have you gone mad?"
"It is a new year on our calendar, my lord."
"My lord, we have reached the Stopping of the Rains, the first month of the new year. Last year was One Reed, Feathered Serpent's year, and a bad year for kings. It is now Two Flint, a more promising time. Perhaps Montezuma feels he has outwaited you ... perhaps even outwitted you. By delaying his destruction this long he may feel he has nothing more to fear from challenging you. The calendar is in his favour."
"And do you believe this also?"
"No, my lord. I believe in you."
His anger seems to evaporate. He kisses me gently on the forehead.
Why am I so pathetically grateful for these small crumbs of his affection? He comes to me now only when I am needed and I lap up his small and graceless attentions as if they were mountains of jade.
He pulls away from me as Cáceres ushers Martín Lopez into his apartments. Lopez is one of the tallest of these Thunder Lords, a lean man with a sparse beard and the most enormous hands I have ever seen.
"Lopez."
"You wanted to see me, caudillo."
"Indeed." Cortés ignores the wreckage he has left around the room. Cáceres hurries to right the upturned throne and Cortés settles himself upon it as if nothing has happened. Lopez glances curiously at the table lying on its side in the corner and the spilled ink and parchment on the floor but wisely does not remark on it.
"You signed on to our expedition as a soldier," Cortés is saying, "but Alvarado tells me that in Cuba you earned your living as a carpenter and shipwright."
"Yes, my lord. I had some experience in the shipyards in Cadiz."
"Good. Do you think you could build a brigantine?"
Lopez stares at my lord in astonishment, but quickly recovers his wits. "With the right equipment, perhaps. I would need carpenters ..."
"At Vera Cruz there are anchor chains, sails, rigging and pitch from the fleet we were forced to scuttle at San Juan de Ulúa. If you had your choice of timber from the local forests and you were given skilled indian carpenters, would that suit your needs?"
Aztec Page 29
