Yupanchi had just finished formally reintroducing Tenok’s father, Atzayako, to him. Everyone was mingling before the meeting officially started, but huitls loved gossip, and it seemed like they couldn’t help but stare at the father and son meeting again for the first time in over a decade.
“Father,” Tenok started to speak finally, staring at his father’s watery eyes, that seemed strangely small on his chubby face. “I, we—”
“You were with your brother when he died?” his father finally spoke. The first words Atzayako had said to his son since saying his farewell to him in Chultunyu, the day he’d given him the sling and left forever.
“Y–yes.”
He nodded. “Why didn’t you return with his bones to Chultunyu? It was the proper thing to do.”
“I thought…My place was here, by my…by your side.”
Atzayako sniffed and sighed. “I have no use for you.”
Yupanchi cleared his throat, smiling broadly. “A man’s use isn’t always noticed at first glance.”
His father nodded. “Well, you’re here now.”
“Come,” Yupanchi motioned towards the massive three-sided table in the centre of the room. The huitls began to take their seats, each side representing one of the three kingdoms within their empire. Yupanchi sat at the head of one of the points, and Atzayako sat at another, the third seat being taken up by the atl from Yaxmetzuha the Black Pyramid, Tixok. There were only enough seats for the thirty atls and huitls, and so Tenok was left standing in the crowded room.
“By now, I’m sure you’ve all heard about the Whisperer-chakatl Tenok-huitl brought with him,” Yupanchi said, looking around the room at the standing men who nodded in agreement. “I’m sure you’ve had the same thought as I, that the Whisperer’s coming is directly connected to Huwamanpellpe. It is clear the gods have become furious over her actions and now threaten to destroy us.”
“Has the Whisperer been told how long we have?” Matlali, the huitl of Ixk’inmetzuha asked, looking at Tenok. He wore no jewels, but his tunic and piercings were all copper or copper-coloured. He seemed to shimmer in the oil light. He was Maarku’s father, though he bore little resemblance to his pompous son. Unlike his son, Matlali was rather rotund and had a weak face.
Tenok felt strange not having Sha’di there to speak for himself. Especially since he knew how uncomfortable the Whisperer felt about human sacrifice. Tenok himself felt slightly uncomfortable about this whole matter. A man or woman choosing to give themselves to the gods was one thing, but if Huwamanpellpe was refusing, didn’t that negate the power of her sacrifice? Wasn’t it just murder then?
“The sand witches seemed unclear about when it would happen, save that it would happen before Zera returned again to Orope,” Tenok hoped he was remembering that correctly.
“That gives us, what? A little over ten years?” Tahuan spoke with a wide smile. He sparkled with stones of amethyst and amber woven into the braids wrapped around his long skull. He was eager to make a fine impression on the other huitls. He hadn’t even looked this impressive during his own feast. “Surely we can get a woman with child in less time than that.”
“We cannot rape the vessel of the gods,” the eldest huitl spoke, Etahi, the huitl of Moltapetzuha. He wore no jewels or precious metals. In fact, he only wore a loincloth and armbands woven from jungle vines. He looked rather eccentric with his wild grey hair that only grew in patches.
“We’ve already discussed that matter,” Tenok’s father, Atzayako, spoke firmly, though whatever decision they had come to wasn’t mentioned.
“She needs a husband!” the huitl of Wilowachib’ikimopa, Totonako shouted, banging his fist on the table, his headdress of crane feathers falling down his brow slightly. Many of the huitls started speaking all at once, throwing out suggestions of how to go about this.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Yupanchi waved his hands in the air to get their attention. He waited for them to go quiet before speaking. “We’ve had this conversation a thousand times. It’s all fine to say ‘she must marry’ or ‘she must have a child’ or ‘she must agree to sacrifice.’ We’ve tried to bribe and convince that selfish girl and nothing has worked.”
“Oh, out with it,” Tixok growled from across the room. His attitude was as dark as the black tunic and headdress he wore. “I know that gleam in your eye. You think you have some plan we haven’t thought of.”
“She needs to be wooed,” Yupanchi’s lips curled up like a humid leaf.
Atzayako gave a raspy laugh. “You think that foolish girl just needs to fall in love. Is that it?”
“She’s of that age where women stare at handsome faces all day and dream about being taken by a real man. Yes, she wants love, and we need to ensure she finds it.”
“Do you mean to woo her?” the huitl of Chakachawyu, Tzaka, chuckled, the topaz of his silver coronet bobbing up and down.
“Of course not. But you have the right idea. With the male Royal Sacrifices we could just give them a harem of women to breed with, but it seems clear to me that we need to give her…a better stock to choose from. One of our sons,” he said, his eyes casually glancing towards Tenok.
Again the room of huitls burst into angry chatter, men insisting their sons were too old or too young or simply not right. Xatopallpa waited for them to calm down as a grin spread across his face.
“Of course, it can’t be your heir. An heir’s sons need to continue your legacy. But a second son or brother, or even a lesser grandson would suffice. We need to surround her with young men, handsome men, men who will make her fall in love and want to do nothing but marry and give her husband a slew of children.”
“But you’re still asking us to allow our grandsons to be—” Matlali looked ashen.
“Royal Sacrifices? But what an honour that would be for your pyramids.”
“Why our pyramids? Why not yours?” The ancient Moltapetzuhuitl pointed a vine-covered arm accusingly towards him.
“You know all my sons are too old, and the only grandson I have is a babe in arms. By the time he would be old enough to marry, the gods will already have unleashed their wrath.”
“Most of our sons are at our home pyramids. Do you mean for us to summon them all?” Tixok scoffed at the absurdity of it all.
“Summon your sons; it betters our chances,” Yupanchi smiled, and looked right at Tenok, who felt a cold sweat on his brow. “But there are more than enough sons here, I think.”
The sun was barely over the treeline when Tenok came to Sha’di’s room. He slept along one wall, his cloak curled around his thin body and his mouth hanging loosely open. Nnenne slept in the crook of his neck, her beak buried under her wing. He shared the room with Belam, whose eyes came open the moment Tenok stepped through the stone entrance.
“Sorry to wake you,” Tenok said sheepishly.
Belam squinted then looked at the dim light coming through the narrow window. “Is there an emergency?”
“Not for you.”
“Oh, all right,” he turned over, pulling his linen blanket over his head and was still once more.
“Xa’ti,” he leaned down, shaking the Whisperer gently. Nnenne lifted her head and stretched her wings out, but Sha’di didn’t move. “Oh, wake up!” Tenok hissed.
Belam groaned in annoyance, but Tenok ignored him and continued to shake the bleary Whisperer until finally, his dark eyes opened in confusion. He looked frightened for a moment, then blinked and his senses came to him. He sat up.
“What is it?” He whispered, his voice thick and slow.
“Come,” Tenok nodded to the door.
With an exaggerated yawn Sha’di got up and followed him, scratching his face and nearly bumping into the doorframe. “It’s not morning yet,” Sha’di whined.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep,” Tenok led them down the narrow hallway. They were in the depths of his father’s great hall atop his red pyramid. He’d always thought of his home on the Chultunyu pyramid as a massive building. Three floors
with twelve rooms and a beautiful hall with refreshing pools of waters he used to play in as a child, though the hall’s actual purpose was receiving nobles and visitors. Walking around this place, he felt like his old home was a peasant’s hut.
They’d come here after the meeting with the huitls, climbing the long ramp up the incredibly wide pyramid. Walking into the main hall, Tenok was instantly struck by its vast size. The great hall itself would have easily fit the entire palace of Chultunyu inside it. The architecture was familiar enough, a dais at the far end with a stone throne, the same amount of clear pools, but everything was bigger. He felt as though he had somehow shrunk in the home of his father.
Coming to the pyramid for the first time was meant to be a solemn occasion, so he hadn’t a chance to speak to his father as they’d walked up the ramp, and once they were in the hall, Atzayako was almost immediately barking order at servants. All his travelling companions were taken away to their rooms, and he was shown to his. He thought he might get a chance to speak with his father over what the huitls had discussed, but his father retired to his room and gave orders not to be disturbed. Instead Tenok had sat in the room that had been intended for his older brother, eating an unfamiliar fowl stew with corn porridge, looking around at the carved frescoes on the wall, unable to think of anything beyond the atls scheming to have the Ellpe fall in love with one of their useless sons.
No one had to etch it in stone for him. He knew what he was. And for the first time, he regretted coming to this forsaken place.
“The meeting yesterday…” Tenok said, trying to remember which hall to go down. Tenok had never actually encountered a hallway before coming to this city. The rooms in Chultunyu simply led from one to the other. There were no halls connecting the rooms meant for the royal family, but the moment he entered the servants’ section he was met with a maze of narrow entrances. “This way, I think,” he turned left.
“Where are we going?” Sha’di looked more awake now, though no less confused.
“Outside. I can’t stand this musty air anymore.” It smelled like mold. Tenok thought he might choke on it if he stayed inside any longer.
“This way,” Sha’di smiled softly, taking his arm gently and turning him around. “Belam and I had some time to explore last night. Well, Belam was trying to find where the serving girls sleep.”
“Oh, so, you two, uh…” Tenok wasn’t quite sure why the question was so hard to ask.
Sha’di laughed. “Belam want to, but they…did not. Something about him southern…well, I didn’t understand word they used, but I think it was bad.”
Finally they saw the soft sunlight coming from around one corner, and when they turned, they saw the wooden door before them, the cracks of light seeping through. The door led out to the south, and before them, they saw the entirety of Chipetzuha covered in a quiet mist, golden light slowly wrapping around it.
“They want to find a husband for the Ellpe,” Tenok spoke quickly.
Sha’di frowned. “The Ellpe they want to kill?”
“You know it’s not that simple,” Tenok understood a lot of Sha’di’s reservations about their traditions, but he didn’t understand why he needed to act so naïve about everything. It’s not like his people woke up every morning anxious to sacrifice someone. The gods demanded blood, and few people were brave enough to give their lives to save their friends and family. The Ellpe should have been first in line to sacrifice herself for her people.
“Fine,” Sha’di sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It’s not simple. If it was, I’d go home now.”
“They’re going to manipulate her into choosing a husband.”
“What is…mani…pulate?”
“Trick her. They’re going to—oh, I don’t know!” Tenok’s outburst echoed down the side of the pyramid.
Sha’di’s eyes widened slightly, and Nnenne squawked in surprise. “Why are you angry?”
“I don’t know what they’ll do, or how they’ll do it, but…I think I’m in trouble.”
“Trouble? What trouble?”
“I’m not the heir to Chultunyu. Understand? My father won’t care what happens to my…” he’d never thought of having any before, and it felt strange to think that way now, “children.”
“Your children? What children?”
“I think they’re going to throw their useless sons at her until she falls in love with one of us. And then what? We can’t deny the Ellpe any more than we can deny our fathers telling us to go and woo her!”
Sha’di started laughing. “You are afraid of…to be married? Children?” Sha’di couldn’t stop chuckling.
“Don’t you get it?” Tenok hissed, and Sha’di’s smile slowly melted away. “If I had to marry her, if we…if she had children, they would be my children. If she has a daughter, they’ll kill her when she reaches her fifth year. If she has a son, it will be his heart they cut out the next festival day, and my son’s children—”
Tenok closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t even know why he ought to be worried. He’d never had to worry about women falling in love with him before, and he’d never given a woman reason to do such a thing. It was just Yupanchi staring at him as he laid out his clever little plan.
“Hmm,” Sha’di sighed, and when Tenok opened his eyes he was nodding his head. “You stand and watch a man be sacrificed, but your son or your daughter, and it’s bad?”
“It’s not that simple,” he repeated himself.
“Then…go back to Chultunyu,” Sha’di suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.
Tenok groaned. “Maybe. I just…” He buried his face in his hands, his fingers winding around his dark hair and pulling. “I’ve been waiting my entire life to get here. What would my father think of me if I ran back to Chultunyu because of this? He’d know me as a coward until the day he died of shame.”
“It’s not so bad,” Sha’di put an arm around his shoulder, squeezing his arm.
Tenok unburied his face to look at Sha’di’s reassuring smile. Feeling his warmth, the strength of his arm, Tenok felt something stir in him.
“Can you do something for me?” he asked suddenly.
Sha’di raised his eyebrows curiously. “What?”
“Lie for me.”
NEPATA
I NEED TO KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO FIGHT
The woman grunted loudly, gipping onto Kareth’s arm so tightly he felt her nails dig into his skin. If Yunet hadn’t been watching him like a hippo from the river, he probably would have pushed her away, but instead he tried to make soothing shushing sounds, sounds which were completely drowned out when a sudden pain caused the woman to scream.
“You’re all right, child,” Yunet said with uncharacteristic gentleness. That was how Kareth knew there was something seriously wrong. Of course, his first indication there was a problem was Yunet letting him into the room in the first place.
They were in a small house on the west side of town. The house belonged to a merchant, which was made clear by all the strange items along the well-lit walls. Golden chalices, wooden carvings of plump women, ceramic vases filled with what he imagined to be wine. Her husband was away though, sailing down the Nepata to trade.
“It’s too soon,” the woman whimpered, squatting on shaking legs as Kareth tried to support her. It was too soon. That was one of the things Yunet had explained as they’d rushed over here, following the frantic maid-girl who’d come to fetch the midwife. Nearly two turns of the moon too soon.
“Now you push when I tell you and only when I tell you,” Yunet said softly, patting the woman on her ankle as she crouched below to get a better view.
The young maid who’d fetched them ran into the room, carrying a bowl full of steaming water. A clean linen rag was draped over her arm. The girl’s eyes were as big as ostrich eggs and bloodshot from panic. She’d been the only person here when her mistress had gone into early labour, and clearly the shock hadn’t worn off.
When Kareth had first seen the pre
gnant woman gasping on the ground, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stomach in pain, he hadn’t really thought she had gone into labour early at all. Her stomach looked bigger than most women’s did, and yet Yunet had said there was no mistake, that she’d been helping the woman since the beginning of the birth. So there was something wrong, incredibly wrong, and Yunet didn’t know what it was.
That was a thought Kareth never imagined he would ever have. Yunet didn’t know. In the short time he’d known her, she had known the answer for everything. What the best herbs for pain were, what it meant when you dreamed of crocodiles when pregnant, how the four winds all brought a different omen with them. She was certainly acting like she knew, though.
“Put the water here,” Yunet waved the panicky maid over.
The girl put down the water with little care, splashing most of it on her mistress’ feet.
“Help support her,” she ordered in a more annoyed voice. “Kareth, come here a moment.”
She got off the floor with a groan, her knees cracking as she straightened herself out. She seemed to have shrivelled with age. At her full height, she only came up to Kareth’s shoulder, and he wondered if she hadn’t been taller when he’d first met her, or if he had just been shorter. She looked smaller to him, but her strength hadn’t diminished a bit. Yunet took his arm in a surprisingly strong grip and dragged him to the side of the room, speaking in hushed tones.
“Her opening is still too small to push the baby out, but that’s not the problem. I can see a foot,” her eyes were intense, and Kareth couldn’t help but think she looked frightened.
“A foot?”
“Quiet,” she hissed. “Once she’s opened more, I can maybe reach in and turn the child.”
Kareth felt his face scrunch up in disgust, and Yunet immediately reached up and slapped his ear, just hard enough for him to wince and hide the expression on his face. “You watch your manners around a woman in labour. The worst thing we can do is scare her.”
Pekari -The Azure Fish Page 34
