Читать книгу Ahuitzotl - Herb Allenger - Страница 19

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Warriors by the hundreds were entering Tenochtitlan daily as the deadline given Zozoltin was nearing. They came in under colorful standards designating their units and dressed in full battle gear, wearing the ichcahuilpilli, a tunic of thick reinforced cotton fibers serving as body armor, and helmets made of wood, reed, bone, and animal hides molded into shapes resembling the fearsome appearances of jaguars, eagles, and snakes. Many wore plumed headdresses of various bird feathers with distinctive designs and hues identifying their clans. Each day their numbers increased so that they soon crowded the facilities available to them in the capital.

They carried an assortment of weapons depending on the posts assigned them in battle. The principal combatants held the tepuztopilli, a lance six to ten feet in length with a sharp obsidian head ornamented by feathers, with a maquauhuitl slung over their shoulders or attached with thongs to their waistbelts. This club, an arm’s length with honed stone blades embedded along its edges, was the primary armament used in closed combat and could be wielded with lethal efficiency. Their shields, of wood, cane, and animal hide, were trimmed with tassels or feathers and painted with group insignia and clan emblems. There were slingers and archers, more lightly clad than their infantry counterparts, and also spearthrowers armed with the atlatl, a short wooden staff holding a groove and projecting peg into which was inserted a dart about half the length of a lance. With such armaments, the Mexica carved their way to supremacy.

In addition to the warriors came a multitude of priests. These were also impressively attired in magnificent plumages, ornaments, long cloaks or robes marked with sacred symbols denoting their particular order. Their importance could not be underestimated, for through their oblations were gods disposed to influence the outcome of a struggle, and they always accompanied the armies to war, usually a day’s march ahead of the main body, carrying the idols of their dieties on their backs or in litters. They required no escort and advanced by themselves—no mortal would have dared to touch them out of fear of incurring the wrath of the divinities they served.

Now in the final week of the tenth month, the eleventh month, Ochpaniztli, was rapidly approaching and nowhere was its arrival more eagerly anticipated than in the headquarters complex where Ahuitzotl and Tlohtzin reviewed the situation with considerable puzzlement.

“Dispatches are coming to us twice a day now,” Ahuitzotl commented, “and still there is no movement afoot in Toluca. They’ve made no attempts to secure allies. It’s as though they regarded this impending war as completely trivial—no threat whatsoever.”

“That suggests they mean to surrender to us,” Tlohtzin answered.

“There are no indications of that either. His people say nothing.”

“That is baffling. Perhaps they are unaware of the looming crisis.”

“It would be difficult to conceal. The restrictions imposed by our advance parties should have alerted them to us and prompted them to press their leaders for an explanation. No, they fully know what’s going on. It seems Tecolotl was correct when he told us Zozoltin has a consensus in his defiance. Imagine that—a show of courage from the Matlazinca.”

“All the better I say. We shall have our battle and punish them accordingly for it.”

“We owe it to ourselves. They are adding to their insolence by demonstrating, through their complacency, that they need not fear us or heed our warnings. Such an insult cannot be ignored.”

“Clearly. What preparations are they making for our expected battle?”

“The usual training—nothing we would think extraordinary. No special drills, maneuvers, or exercises, no massing of units, no production of any additional weapons, not even extra training for the inexperienced boys. If these activities are actually taking place, they’re out of sight.”

“Astounding! Have they no fear at all?”

“They’re Matlazinca—they mask it.”

Just then, the air was pierced by blaring drones of conch shells and the rhythmic beat of drums. “It’s the main column from Texcoco,” Ahuitzotl said, “led by Nezahualpilli I expect. Let’s welcome him.”

They stepped to the front portal and were met by Nezahualpilli who walked with his trumpeters and drummers ahead of his army marching to the complex its soldiers would be billeted.

“I had a premonition you changed your mind,” Ahuitzotl greeted the Texcocan, “but I see your eagerness for battle overrode all else. Better than a dull surrender, wouldn’t you say?”

“The choice was difficult for me—between this and my poetical compositions,” retorted Nezahualpilli knowing that his answer would be disdainfully received by Ahuitzotl. “I spoke with Lord Tizoc as we came through the plaza. He bids we join him at dinner to discuss this operation.”

The sun was slowly sinking below the western mountains when Ahuitzotl and Nezahualpilli crossed the central square on the way to the royal palace. It cast a brilliant reddish glow upon the unplastered masonry of the Great Temple, outlining its austere features in sharp shadows. In reflected light, the structure appeared even more gigantic, looming in massive splendor above the two men gazing up at it. Ahuitzotl paused to fully absorb the spectacle.

“Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc shall reign magnificently over Tenochtitlan,” he said.

“I assume Tizoc is already planning for its inauguration.”

“He hasn’t mentioned it, but why should he? It will not be finished for another year.”

“A temple of such size and grandeur will require a proportionately large dedication. The ceremony will have to be well thought out; invitations sent out; facilities set up; orisons memorized, and sacrifice offered. It must all be flawlessly executed and cannot be marred in any way—that would be an affront to Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc both.”

“You would think the structure itself, as massive as it is, ought to gratify them amply.”

“A building, no matter how impressive, is not that significant. It’s what we do with it, the honors we render it, and the priests we assign to its keeping, which will do most to please the gods. It’s said the people who built Teotihuacan failed in granting their gods appropriate homage and perished as a consequence. Even that city, with all its monumental sights did not satisfy them, else they would never have permitted its builders to be destroyed.”

“Something to consider,” Ahuitzotl reflected. “We must not ignore the message.”

On arriving at the palace, attendants escorted them to one of the smaller rooms where they were cordially greeted by Tizoc. After washing their hands and faces in bowls of water and drying themselves with towels, they took their place upon soft cushions in the manner prescribed by court etiquette and were brought trays of food and drink by servants of both sexes.

The meal was of the usual good quality conjured up by the palace chefs. Beginning with a vegetable plate containing a dozen varieties of beans, pepper, and squash, as well as a mixture of onions, tomatoes, yams, and an assortment of nuts, their main fare was a meat dish consisting of small bite-size slices of flesh from duck, grouse, quail, and turkey, with a complimentary plate of iguana, a delicacy. Side dishes included variations of corn bread, some with flowers added into the dough to enhance the flavor, and spices for seasoning the treats to please even the most severe culinary critic. Chocolate blended with vanilla and honey was their main drink.

During the course of their dining, one topic dominated their discussion—Toluca—and Tizoc, already appraised of the situation by Ahuitzotl, was both confused and annoyed over the conflicting reports which gave indications this issue was to be decided by the usual means—a force of arms.

“Have all the contingents arrived?” Tizoc asked.

“We expect the last of them tomorrow, Lord,” answered Ahuitzotl.

“So it’s only a matter on waiting for Ochpaniztli to arrive.”

“Are we to wait for it here?” questioned Ahuitzotl. “I think it would be better to proceed on Toluca now so when Ochpaniztli comes we will be ready for them.”

“We told the Tolucan lords to come to Tenochtitlan,” Tizoc curtly reminded Ahuitzotl.

“Yes; however that should not place any constraints on our own movements. We would not interfere with their coming here if they still decide on that. I want to be prepared to attack if they refuse your offer.”

“And have your Revered Speaker known as a treacherous bargainer?”

“The plan has merit, Lord,” Nezahualpilli interjected. “If the Tolucans were to see our armies move on them, they might be more inclined to give our ultimatum greater regard.”

“You don’t see it as dishonorable?” Tizoc asked..

“It may be just the tactic needed to give Zozoltin the incentive to do as we ordered. As things stand now, we have nothing to suggest that he intends to comply.”

“Nor have his envoys told us anything,” added Tizoc. “Still, we must honor the word we gave him.”

“We will,” said Ahuitzotl, “by not attacking before Ochpaniztli.”

“Very well. It’s settled. Tomorrow we’ll send a messenger to our ambassador at Zozoltin’s court to learn of his intentions. Pending his reply, we will move our armies. I trust this stipulation is not undermined by your impatience to have this war, Ahuitzotl, for you have forced my hand. Yet you say all the signs are that Zozoltin makes no preparation for war. Surely he means to surrender. What else can it be?”

“I think he mocks us, Lord,” said Ahuitzotl.

“Mocks us?”

“He is a dead man no matter what choice he makes, and since everyone is watching this, he seeks to make us appear the villain in the process.”

“Interesting, if true,” commented Nezahualpilli. “He is using our need to make an exhibition of our punishment as a weapon against us. Zozoltin is a greater man that I credited him.”

“You see greatness in this?” Tizoc asked in amazement.

“Consider the setting, Lord. The world is watching us and, in a peculiar but effective way, he is shouting out for all to hear that death is preferable to living under the rule of his overlords. It’s as if a prisoner about to be sacrificed were to spit in the face of the priest ready to cut him open—a final, deliberate act of defiance—of utmost contempt!—one we obviously cannot afford to have others emulate. We have unwittingly offered Zozoltin that opportunity.”

“But his people—has he no regard for them?”

“I think he refuses to believe we would actually carry out our threats against them.”

“Either that,” added Ahuitzotl, “or he has their support.”

“That’s preposterous!” exclaimed Tizoc, alarmed. “It suggests that his people likewise share his preference for death or enslavement. No mortal man has such a hold on his subjects.”

“If he did,” concluded Nezahualpilli, “he would be a most remarkable leader indeed.”

“Impossible!” declared Tizoc. “He is a man, not a god!”

“I am merely giving you our interpretations of the reports we received,” stated Ahuitzotl who felt a revulsion over Tizoc’s apparent timidity—already he was cowed by Zozoltin—and resented how everything he agreed to required Nezahualpilli’s prior affirmation. “Make of it what you like, but for reasons we do not know, they are unconcerned about their impending fate.”

“He could have deceived them,” Nezahualpilli surmised.

“That’s possible,” conceded Ahuitzotl.

“It may have been necessary,” Nezahualpilli continued. “How could he let them know he was placing their lives in danger by refusing to surrender? Conceivably this could have led to a revolt among his people.”

“To be sure,” Ahuitzotl grinned. “They would have insisted on his surrender, perhaps even turned him over to us bound hand and foot.”

“If it comes to a battle I want him taken alive for eventual sacrifice. The gods should be gratified over receiving such a captive.”

“Why render him that honor?” scowled Ahuitzotl contemptuously. “He has created a lot of trouble. I see no reason for any generosity by granting him entrance into our Eastern Paradise.”

“What would you do with him?” Tizoc asked.

“I agree he should be taken alive, but I would cage him up without food or water and let him die on his own accord. This will offer him ample time to brood over his defiance.”

Tizoc and Nezahualpilli glanced at each other in disbelief.

“That is too harsh!” declared Nezahualpilli. “By all indications Zozoltin is an opponent we can respect—and he is a king! It’s proper to give him the honor he is entitled.”

“A king who dared to oppose us!” Ahuitzotl replied. “He does not merit our clemency.”

“We can determine that later,” said Tizoc. “At least we are agreed he will be taken captive. I think we’ve said enough on this and I’ll welcome a change of subject.”

With that, their conversations turned to lighter themes, with Tizoc and Nezahualpilli speaking of their latest garden blooms while Ahuitzotl tried his best to maintain some degree of attentiveness on a subject that held little interest for him. In this way the evening passed until gradually fatigue overtook them and they, disinclined to further discussions, finally requested retirement to their chambers, bringing the day to a close.