Читать книгу The Lost Diary of Montezuma’s Soothsayer - Clive Dickinson - Страница 5

I had a nightmare last night. As I lay on my reed sleeping mat wrapped in my cloak, I dreamt I heard a voice saying: ‘Fasten your seat-belt, please, Señor Guessalotl. We’ll be landing in Mexico City soon.’

I’ve had this nightmare before. Perhaps I had too much pulque* at the New Year’s Day party yesterday. I like the taste of pulque but it must do strange things to my head. I’d better watch out. The law is very strict about drinking too much. Only old people are allowed to get drunk. The law says that younger people who get drunk will be sentenced to death. There’s enough sentencing to death as it is and I don’t want to end up as another human sacrifice to the gods – even for the sake of an extra cup of pulque.

That was another thing about my nightmare. There wasn’t any pulque. In fact there wasn’t much that I could recognize at all. I seemed to be sitting in a huge round pipe – like a giant reed, only it was made of a shiny metal, a bit like silver. There were other people sitting around me in rows. We were all facing the same way and the person in front was sitting so close my knees were touching the back of his seat.

But the worst part of the nightmare was when I turned to one side. There was a hole in the side of the pipe. Looking through this I could see the mountains around the city. There was no mistaking them; I’d know them anywhere. The frightening part was that in the nightmare I seemed to be up in the air, flying above the mountains. Even more frightening was what was on the ground. As far as I could see, what looked like a giant map stretched in every direction.

Now I’ve lived in Tenochtitlan* all my life. There’s nothing I don’t know about our capital, the greatest city in the Aztec empire, but what I was looking down at in my nightmare was not Tenochtitlan – no way José (where did I hear that?).

It seemed as if Tenochtitlan had just disappeared. I didn’t recognize a thing. If I’d been a god flying to the city I’d have been completely lost.

Our ancestors built Tenochtitlan on an island in the middle of Lake Texcoco. There are causeways built above the water that join the city to the shore of the lake. But the causeways had gone and the lake had vanished. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

‘Quite a sight, isn’t it?’ said the nightmare voice again. ‘That’s the largest city on earth down there. Now put your belt on, please.’

Suddenly there was a tight pull across my tummy. I couldn’t move. ‘Oh, no,’ I thought. ‘Someone is really going to cut my heart out with a stone knife this time.’

Then I woke up.

No pulque for me today.

* alcoholic drink made from cactus juice

* Mexico City