Herb Allenger

Ahuitzotl


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beaten dog before its master—and this from a man of your repute. Someone certainly assessed you wrongly.”

      “Do not irritate me, Pelaxilla! I have already endured enough injury from Tizoc.

      “His injury must have been painful indeed, since you will not confront him again, but rather choose to wait until his bite is softer before you see him—to beg some more!”

      Ahuitzotl resented her provoking him like this but reminded himself that she was deeply upset, as he had been when with Tizoc, and resolved not to let it offend him.

      “If you want to believe that I grovel to him, then fine. I remind you we are all his servants.”

      Pelaxilla knew this, and it was only because of the bitterness felt over her disappointment that she still attempted to precipitate some kind of action out of him. “How long will it be,” she asked, “before you speak to him again?”

      “There’s no definite time. It depends, but certainly not until after the Tlaloc festival.”

      “Another three weeks—if you dare. Well, that’s not as bad as I had expected. I suppose I’ll have to resign myself to that, but what if his answer remains the same?”

      “I don’t want to think about that now.”

      “You could have said something more positive.”

      “I’ll do something.”

      “I should hope so. It’s unpleasant to have you acquiesce to such treatment from a lesser man—even if the Revered Speaker. A countermeasure is in order. I will not spend my life relegated to a minor courtesan for him. No, not anymore! Not after the promises you have aroused in me.”

      Ahuitzotl gave her a despairing look, and for Pelaxilla, it penetrated to her very core and she feared she had carried her prodding too far. “It’s best I leave for now,” he determined. “Things will be clearer after you’ve given more thought over what I’ve told you. Presently you are too distressed.”

      “Yes,” she agreed. “The news has been very upsetting. I need to think on it.”

      Ahuitzotl worried about Pelaxilla as he walked back to his headquarters. He had only told her about Tizoc’s refusal to release her from his services—what will she say when she discovers that he cannot marry her? He shuddered over this. Perhaps he should have mentioned it to her, but that would have been too great a shock for one day. He would tell her some other time.

      On arriving at his command quarters, Cihuacoatl was already there waiting for him; together they proceeded to a secluded corner of the inner courtyard where no-one was able to approach them without being seen.

      “I came as soon as I could,” Cihuacoatl began eagerly. “I assume you’ve made a decision.”

      “I want you to proceed as planned.”

      “Then you will give us your support?”

      “Before Huitzilopochtli, I swear it.”

      “Excellent. I shall immediately notify those involved. We will speak to the physicians on what method we should employ to accomplish our end.”

      “I thought that had been decided.”

      “The poison? Oh yes, we’re agreed on it, but we need to find out which ones will function best in the manner we desire.”

      “Can you trust the physicians?”

      “Rest assured, the ones we talk to will have our confidence. They won’t be told for what purpose we seek our information and, after the deed is done, if they suspect a connection, we can always dispatch them.”

      “Them too? This scheme grows more nefarious as it moves along.”

      “What did you expect, Lord? Evil feeds upon evil, and it is, after all, an evil crime we conspire. You must remind yourself constantly of its necessity.”

      “I keep telling myself that.”

      “Dismiss any reservations about it. It has to be done, and if in the process, one or more unfortunate individuals pay the price for having unwittingly become ensnared in this web of intrigue, so it must be. If you’re concerned about them, you will make us question your dedication to this cause. Perhaps I should ask, to ease my own apprehensions, why your sudden change?”

      “Let’s just say that Tizoc has given me the incentive to hasten his own demise.”

      “Aptly put. I won’t press for an explanation. I will arrange for the preparations and, if all goes well, we shall have a new Revered Speaker soon after the Tlaloc festivities.”

      A chill came over Ahuitzotl; it seemed inconceivable that notions he so long harbored were about to transform themselves into reality. Cihuacoatl took note of his troubled demeanor.

      “Is something amiss, Lord?”

      “Everything we do here is amiss—I must catch my breath to absorb it all. As you earlier, I’m now struck by the gravity of our venture. Will the gods approve of it?”

      “I’ve agonized over the same question. I came to the conclusion that I served them in a far greater capacity by assuring the strength of the realm. It took me some time to accept this premise, but having finally done so, I now believe it to be correct.”

      “So it is possible to overcome this uncertainty.”

      “Oh, absolutely. Be assured of it. It will happen as soon as you are convinced what we do is required for the greater good.”

      Heartened by the minister’s confidence, Ahuitzotl dispelled his previous qualms with remarkable ease. “Well, that’s it then,” he said. “Tizoc brings this upon himself.”

      “His days are short. If no complications arise, Lord Tizoc will not outlive the next month.”

      The impossible was almost within Ahuitzitl’s reach, and his eyes gleamed as he deliberated on it. He thought about how he would begin his reign—with an attack on the cities of Chiapa and Xiquipilco to teach them the same lessons imparted on the Tolucans. No nation would rise in opposition to the Mexica while he ruled as they had done under Tizoc: he would see to that. As for his Pelaxilla, even though she could not be a wife, she nevertheless would remain as his courtly favorite. Whether she was actually married to him was less important than having her present so he could continue to enjoy her beauty and companionship without restrictions. And the Great Temple—it would now be completed under his reign and stand as an enduring monument to his glory. He could see it all: how he would expand the kingdom, rule over his subjects, and have his private life life with Pelaxilla—the prospect loomed tantalizingly before him to fill him with eager anticipation. Already, to Ahuitzotl, Tizoc was discounted.

      XIX

      Excitement abounded in the streets of Tenochtitlan as the first day of the thirteenth month, one of three during the year honoring the god Tlaloc, arrived. Nezahualpilli and Chimalpopoca, along with numerous other rulers, princes, and dignitaries, had made their appearances in response to invitations from Tizoc; both were expected to participate in the sacred rites to the Rain God, second in importance after Huitzilopochtli.

      Tizoc contrived two major ceremonies, each one lasting a day, to initiate the month. The first, a sacrifice of the waters, was to conform to traditional demands imposed by Tlaloc’s priests by which they would propitiate the god into delivering them continuous fresh rains. The second ritual entailed sacrificing a representative number of Tolucan captives. The priests had determined that one in ten, three hundred of them, amounted to an ample supply for Tlaloc as well as several other deities, with those remaining reserved for future rites, enduring until then as laborers on Tizoc’s abundant projects. Both observances required the active involvement of the sovereign whose primary duties included initiating the cutting.

      The sacrifice of the waters commenced at early dawn when a procession of lords and priests marched slowly by way of the northern causeway avenue from the central plaza to the lake’s edge where hundreds