and then dried out and scented with exotic perfumes. Next, it was dressed in the royal robes which he normally wore on important occasions and bedecked with rich jewelry; locks from the top of his head were sheared off to be retained as a memorial and emeralds were placed in his mouth. The body was then cloaked in seventeen different mantles, each delicately woven and representing a deity, with Huitzilopochtli’s the outer wrap, and it was set on a mat in a sitting position. A lifelike turquoise mask conforming to Tizoc’s prominent features was fastened over the face: the body was now prepared for its last observance.
Soon, dignitaries arrived in the capital to send Tizoc on his journey, among them Nezahualpilli and Chimalpopoca of the Alliance cities as well as a host of monarchs from the nearby urban centers and ambassadors of those rulers too distant to personally attend. They brought with them gifts for offerings. Nezahualpilli came with two slaves, a man and a woman, exquisitely adorned in attire and ornaments who carried his gifts and would serve as benefactions themselves. For Axayacatl’s funeral, he had brought four of them, as did every other ruler among the clans, but this was an uncertain situation for him; Tizoc’s lack of popularity might have made even these seem extravagant to the remaining princes. As it was, only he and Chimalpopoca, who also provided a slave of each gender, came with such presents while the rest of the potentates arrived merely with containers of ornaments. food, and drink. Such was the decline of respect spawned by Tizoc.
Tizoc’s beclad body was set upon the throne and the official ceremony began by each lord in turn speaking to it in the presence of his peers as if it were still alive and could hear his words. Nezahualpilli initiated this series of orations.
“Most noble ruler, Tizoc. I look upon you for the last time and wish you a successful journey to the heavens. You have by now come to the place where you shall find your fathers and the lords who preceeded you, and you now enjoy the glory of the Lord of Creation, of the day and the night, and of the air and fire. So that you might spend your time in greater happiness, I present you with this gift. I hope you will favor it.”
With that, Nezahualpilli led his slaves carrying the rich presents before the body and stepped aside to make way for the next speaker, Chimalpopoca.
“My son, distinguished lord, and ruler. The glory and happiness you sought in life, and were so often denied to you, presently surround you in the place of your kinsmen and ancestors. Even as I speak to you, you are already standing before the house lit by the splendor of the Sun where you will meet those who have taken this journey before you. I, too, give you an offering which should make your future time more pleasant for you. May you repose in serenity, my son.”
And so it continued, ruler after ruler, while the remaining participants listened to each speaker impart his memories and final comments, until the last of them had their say. After this observance, professional mourners entered and sang dirges to the body as food and drink were placed about it in a variety of containers. Then the lords slowly passed by and deposited their jewelry and other prized belongings beside the gifts already there while criers continued with their sad songs until the entire room overflowed with presents.
After all the gifts had been presented, all the songs sung, and all the eulogies rendered, the body was placed into a covered litter and carried across the plaza to the Temple of Huitzilopochtli in a solemn procession, imposing in its staid expression, with dignitaries trailing the bearers to the slow intermittant beat of a single drum. Decked out in their finest attire of colorful array, carrying their batons and insignia, the kings, nobles, kinsmen, and ambassadors chanted sacred hymns for the fallen monarch, some even weeping for him. Behind them walked the servants and slaves who would be sacrificed to die with their lord so that they might accompany him in his afterlife.
By the time they arrived at the temple, laborers under the direction of priests had already completed erecting a pyre for the body, and the litter was set upon it along with the many containers of gifts. An altarstone had been temporarily positioned in front of the mound around which stood the usual five priests required to perform the operation. After Cihuacoatl assumed his stand directly behind the block, the four slaves and five of the monarch’s favorite household menials took up a single line to await being reunited with their lord. Cihuacoatl addressed them.
“My sons and daughters, highly honored to continue in the service of your lord. May you happily reach him in the other life which will greet you with its richness and all the delights of the world. Do not lose the things that belonged to your lord, but deliver them safely to him so that he might enjoy them in his new life. May you relish with him the blessings of this paradise.”
One by one, they removed their garments, setting these in the hands of a priest, and assumed their place upon the stone while Cihuacoatl cut out their hearts and put these in a receptacle held by a subordinate to be later fed to the Death Goddess. Their bodies, along with their clothing and adornments, were stacked next to the monarch’s on the pyre and, this completed, Cihuacoatl then signalled the torch bearers to light it. In minutes it roared forth fully ablaze and all the bodies and gifts that had been cast upon it were engulfed in the flames while the votaries and dignitaries stood quietly by watching their donations comsumed therein.
After the pyre had been finally reduced to a glowing, smoldering heap, Cihuacoatl thanked each of the tribal rulers for having attended the rites and gave them their leave. They would now fast in their respective cities for a number of days as an act of individual bereavement for their departed monarch. With their departure the funeral of Tizoc came to a close.
Later that night, two soldiers rapped on the door of a house along one of the city’s side streets. They wore eagle-crested helmets which extended over their eyes and noses making it impossible to identify them. An elderly man, looking haggardly from just having been aroused from his slumber, came to the door, opened it, and was startled to find himself facing the masked figures.
“What is it? Why do you wake me at this time of night?”
“Are you the physician, Alotl?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Yes, I am Alotl.”
“Take him!” the soldier said to his comrade.
They pushed the bewildered physician against one of the upright posts supporting the roof and while one of them pinned him there by wrapping his arms around the beam, the other pressed his free hand over the physician’s mouth to muffle any screams as he plunged a dagger deep into his chest, penetrating the heart. They held him fast until he grew weary in their arms, then let him fall to the floor dead. As furtively as they had come, the soldiers then disappeared into the darkness.
That night seemed darker than usual in Tenochtitlan, and the braziers lit before the steps and tiers of the temples and palaces cast an eerie glare upon the masonry, bathing it in a glimmering subdued light. The city was shrouded in stillness, and through it could be heard the rustling of a wind sweeping the lofty trees and whistling out its song to whoever might have remained awake to listen. But in the royal palace, the solitude was periodically interrupted by the piercing shriek of a singular lonely voice crying out in despair within the empty, gloomy corridors. Always it began as a loud painful wail which then drifted into muffled whimpering sobs, and anyone who perchanced to hear it would have felt his heart torn by its mournful protraction. The cries arose from Tlalalca, crouched upon her empty layered mats, overcome in her grief and giving expression to the loss of Tizoc through her flowing tears. Although living, she felt as if she had died with her husband and during those long, horrible hours of her anguish, no one could have told her that such unbelievable sorrow would eventually pass.
One Revered Speaker’s reign had come to an end; the world awaited the beginning of another’s.
PART 2
THE OUTRAGE
“This will be your indispensable food, this you will live by, so that you proceed striking terror. The payment for your breast and heart will be your conquests, your overrunning and destroying the common people, the dwellers in all the places you reach, and when you take captives you will cut open their chests with a flint on the sacrificial stone and you will offer their hearts