Читать книгу Ahuitzotl - Herb Allenger - Страница 21

XII

KA-RA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!

In a succession of deafening dull thuds, the panhuehuetl, an enormous war drum, shattered the morning bliss as its deep reverberations thundered out the call to arms heard in every quarter of Tenochtitlan. Within minutes after it first beat, soldiers began to assemble in the plaza, coming from its connecting streets and avenues and entering through the four gates of the serpent’s wall. They formed up under each standard bearer, thousands of them massed in units, one next to another while the supply squadrons brought them their weaponry from the city’s arsenals—a sublime spectacle.

Ahuitzotl, resplendant in his eagle-headed helmet, with his maquauhuitl slung over his left shoulder and a shield strapped to his back, strutted proudly forth to take his position at the head of the legions. In passing before the Tlatelolco component, he noticed Motecuhzoma standing stiffly before his mazatl squadron. A smile came to him and he halted upon reaching the young officer.

“Your first command in battle—if the gods favor us, Motecuhzoma,” Ahuitzotl remarked.

“I’m eager for it, Lord,” beamed Motecuhzoma.

“I shall keep my eyes on you. Perhaps your deeds will match those of my noble brother, Axayacatl.”

Reinforcing Motecuhzoma’s spirit through this encouragement, Ahuitzotl next proceeded to his post. On arriving there, he turned to face the warriors, looking them over unit by unit as if they stood for inspection and relishing the glory of this moment. Then he began to address them.

“Mexica, Tenocha, Allies! The Lord of Battles, under whose domain we live, honors us! A war is in the making and the gods are rejoicing in want of those who are to die! Already they are choosing those among us who must kill, and those who must be killed whose rich blood will give them life, as we are once again called upon to carry our divine mission. Oh Great Lord! Let those warriors who die be received by the sun and earth who are the mother and father of all. We know that you wish them to die because that is why you sent them to this world—so that they can give life to the sun and earth. We ask you to accept them in your house, with love and respect, to take their place among those eagles and tigers who have gone before them and are now serving our lord, the Sun. Let them depart from us to the greater glory of your realm, where happiness abounds and there is no more pain. We go to war, Mighty God, knowing that you will do what is best for us.”

When he finished his oratory, the thousands cheered wildly and lifted their spears and shields over their heads to demonstrate their approval and determination. Their roar echoed through the palace halls just as Tizoc and Cihuacoatl were preparing to enter the square and came upon Nezahualpilli who had observed the proceedings from the doorway.

“What means this outburst?” asked Tizoc.

“Ahuitzotl has just spoken to the warriors, Lord,” Nezahualpilli said. “A speech worthy of Huitzilopochtli’s high priest.”

“He has a way with them—that I will grant him.”

“Wait until we join them, Lord. A path has been well set for you.”

And so it had, for when Tizoc emerged from his residence and came into view, he was met by a tumultuous reception even louder than earlier. His presence unleashed a torrent of applause, thunderous as a roaring cascade, rendering hearing difficult.

“Will my lord speak to them?” Cihuacoatl asked.

“Ahuitzotl has done admirably enough. There’s no need for me to add more. See to the city while we are gone.”

While the cheering continued, eight bearers came with the monarch’s litter and, after Tizoc climbed into its canopied couch and was lifted upon their shoulders, the acclamation accorded him attained an even greater intensity. Not until he was being carried off did Ahuitzotl, who thoroughly relished this show of exuberance, raise his hand and quiet the square.

“Commanders!” he bellowed forth. “Begin the march!”

A flurry of subordinate directives ensued as individual unit chieftains ordered their warriors into march columns. One trailing the other, they filed out of the plaza through its west gate until it stood in emptiness except for a few observers too old or too young to participate in the venture who had risen early enough to witness the procession.

Once the armies broke into their route step, they progressed quickly and quietly, with talking kept to a minimal in the ranks. Leading the host was a detachment of chieftains and selected warriors noted for their bravery who formed the reconnaissance party. Normally ahead of the main force by a full two day’s march, the proximity of Toluca negated the logistical and security requirements typically entailed with such movements. Soldiers carried their rations in netted sacks, and because the area had been well covered by the advance parties sent out weeks ago, many of the precautions ordinarily applied, such as scouting out the canyons, ravines, and adjacent hills and forests, were unnecessary. Consequently, only a half day’s march separated it from the next unit.

The main body advanced in four primary components, each separated from the other by a distance of approximately twelve leagues. Heading it was a company composed of priests who moved by themselves, requiring no protection as their sanctity was all-encompassing and extended them safety even in hostile regions. After it came the Army of Tenochtitlan with its Tlatelolco subdivision and led by its elite Order of the Eagles, a unit comprised of a thousand teuctli—knights—the boldest and most courageous warriors of the realm. Behind it was the court entourage with Tizoc in his litter, his closest advisors, Ahuitzotl with his primary staff, and Tlohtzin in front of the Order of the Jaguars—a unit of the same strength level and nearly equal prestige as its Eagle counterpart. The bulk of the soldiery, divided into squadrons based on the their quarter of the city, formed the rear. With its congregate units and intervals, the Army of Tenochtitlan extended to a length of ten leagues. The Army of Acolhuacan, led by its own Eagle and Jaguar Orders under Nezahualpilli, trailed Tenochtitlan’s, and was, in turn, followed by the Army of Tepaneca commanded by Chimalpopoca.

All that day the column moved steadily forward and as evening drew near, a suitable campsite was selected by each army which afforded some protection for its overnight stay. Ahuitzotl secured an elevated knoll for Tenochtitlan’s army with guards posted in a defense perimeter. Soldiers erected shelters and campfires for their chieftains while they themselves slept on blankets spread over a plot of earth covered with leaves stripped off the shrubs and trees in the vicinity. Each unit, down to the squad level, set up its own fires, and when darkness settled in, hundreds of burning lights dotted the landscape in clusters marking the location of its army. Upon one such bonfire was roasted a deer caught earlier for Tizoc and his notables who enjoyed the venison eaten along with fruit, nuts, and other food items carried in their ration packs.

“There’s something to be said for a meal under a night sky,” commented Tizoc. “Even the dried fruit has a succulence I rarely noticed. Regrettably Nezahualipilli is at his own camp. His company would be most agreeable now.”

“Tomorrow we’ll be as one before Toluca,” said Ahuitzotl. “Zozoltin will gaze out from his palace and see a thousand burning fires in the distance—a sight to stop his heart.”

“Just the thing to make him consider surrendering to us.”

“You would still allow him to do that?” sneered Ahuitzotl.

“Those were our original terms,” Tizoc bluntly reminded his commander. “Why should they change?”

“The conditions under which they were granted are not the same,” answered Ahuitzotl.

“Indeed. How are they different?”

It became evident to everyone seated around the fire that a confrontation was developing; the resulting tension created some discomfort, not only for those observing it, but also for Ahuitzotl who had not intented that his words should lead to this.

“They were made before we assembled our armies and moved on Toluca,” said Ahuitzotl.

“But we anticipated this,” countered Tizoc with appreciable agitation. “I should not have to remind you of it. Why are you making an issue of this now?”

“It is different now that we have come this far,” Ahuitzotl said, seeking to extricate himself from the controversy he had unwittingly generated. “A momentum is in progress. Warriors are eager for battle—we should not disappoint them.”

“And who determines our policy? An assembly of our council leaders or our warriors?”

Tizoc could be a formidable antagonist if he so chose. He was not made Revered Speaker for any lack of abilities or alternative choices and often had moments of brilliance, particularly on the intellectual plane, which impressed those who witnessed it displayed. Ahuitzotl realized that he had underestimated him and now found himself pressed to make a face-saving retreat.

“You misunderstand,” he squirmed. “I merely meant to point out that our soldiers should be rewarded for having undergone this journey. Their efforts should not be expended over nothing.”

“I see. You suggest that a bloodless victory is an insufficient reward—that it is nothing.”

“You demean my purpose, Lord. They wish to serve the gods. Their valor must be tested so their true worthiness can be demonstrated. It’s necessary that they expose themselves to dangers. Captives must be taken.”

Tizoc saw that Ahuitzotl remained persistent in his obstinacy and deemed it useless to continue this verbal exchange. By now the tension had settled so heavily over the group that any relief, however slight, would be welcomed, and Tizoc, sensing the worriment of his ministers, decided to prudently alleviate their apprehensiveness.

“They may still get their chance,” he said. “It appears unlikely Zozoltin will surrender peaceably to us, but he shall nevertheless be given his opportunity. We promised him that, and I am obligated to abide by our words. We know you opposed this, Ahuitzotl, but a majority in our council believed it the correct decision. I see no point in carrying on with this debate. My position should be clear to you.”

Ahuitzotl, seeing that Tizoc had offered him an opening to end their standoff, gratefully grasped for it. “It is, Lord,” he said, “I retract any assertion that I disapprove of the council’s policy. My duty is to serve it.”

“I’m gratified to hear it,” Tizoc beamed in a rare smile. “I consider the matter closed.”

Their reconciliation was received as a heavy burden lifted from the backs of everyone seated there and, in more than one instance, a low sigh of released nervousness was heard over the crackling fire. On each face could be read the thoughts possessing its bearer: Tizoc was gratified—for once he had faced up to Ahuitzotl without backing down and had, in a small but significant way, gotten the best of him; Tlohtzin exhibited no particular emotion beneath his stoic expression except perhaps some relief that things did not get out of hand; Motecuhzoma gaped wide-eyed and was obviously impressed. As for Ahuitzotl, he fluctuated between moods of irritability over finding himself disadvantaged in front of the group and a genuine, although begrudging, respect for his brother. He was on the verge of erupting into an explosion of fury which he would not have been able to contain and, in all probability, come to regret—Tizoc spared him from that. In spite of his seeming faintheartedness, the Revered Speaker could be aroused into an opposition that was threatening.

At dawn the armies resumed their march, passing through a number of villages along the route where they drew a few admiring glances from children thrilled by the spectacle and the general hostile stares of adults who bore no friendliness for the Mexica, viewing them as aggressive belligerants out to subdue another unfortunate people. Once out of Anahuac, the Mexica were rarely received with warmth by a local populace which was kept under their yoke by force of arms and threats of destruction. Unlike many previous conquerors who had contributed to the general welfare of a subjugated people, the Mexica offered no benevolence or enlightment and instead invoked great fear through the excessive demands of their bloodthirsty gods. They inspired no loyalties or sense of pride and were, on the whole, much despised. Not that this troubled them any; their entire history had been one marked by humiliating degradation at the hands of their neighbors until they finally, through adopting policies of overt aggression cloaked in a religious fervor, managed to gain superiority over their former tormentors. They were dealing out no more than they had for so long received, they reasoned, and if people resented it, so much the better, for it gave them a taste of what the Mexica had so bitterly endured. Tizoc may have been the singular exception among them to genuinely concern himself with this animosity and to actually desire an improved relationship with his neighbors.

It was still morning when the Army of Tenochtitlan made contact with some patrols of the advance parties and, after the fanfare of a joyful reunion had worn off, they regrouped with the ranks of their fellow warriors and together proceeded on the march. They had by now entered the fertile valley of the Tolucans and noticed that most of its farms and community centers had been abandoned—unmistakable evidence that Zozoltin was marshalling his people and resources so he could field as large an army as possible—signs indicating Toluca would have to be taken by force.

Shortly after the sun had crested along its daily path, the Army of Tenochtitlan arrived upon a green plain criss-crossed with innumerable plots of irrigated land edged by forests and dense brushes and lying between two widely separated mountain ranges; its warriors espied the distant towering structures overlooking the surrounding countryside.

“The temples of Toluca, Lord!” Ahuitzotl shouted.

“I see them!” replied Tizoc. “We shall be there well before the day is spent.”

They were soon met by chieftains of the reconnaissance detachment and the priests who had advanced ahead of them and had assembled beneath the shade of a cypress grove only two leagues from Toluca at the site selected for their camp. Ahuitzotl stepped forward and carefully scanned the plain, noticing its cleared ground and gradually descending slope to the city, making for easy troop deployments and affording open fields of fire for his archers: He nodded his assent on the well-chosen location.

The next few hours were a hub of activity that saw the encampment being prepared for its occupants. Field directors constructed drainage and drinking facilities; unit locations were spotted; waste disposal areas set up; subordinate and command headquarters were established with shelters erected for the lords, ministers, priests, and chieftains; guides were posted to direct the trailing armies and remaining contingents to their designated sites. Much of the campground was still being laid out when the Army of Acolhuacan made its appearance and, with its additional soldiers to help, the work progressed rapidly. By the time Army of Tepaneca arrived at dusk, everything was in place and only a minimal amount of extra labor was required to provide for it.

That evening, Tizoc called on his expected command meeting around a bonfire set up in front of his headquarters to cover the battle plan He declared his intention to give Zozoltin until noon for his surrender before launching an attack. In spite of the evidence that Zozoltin had massed his people in Toluca, the Mexica believed that he remained in a numerically inferior position, a view strongly held by Ahuitzotl. As a result, Ahuitzotl proposed attacking on a broad front thereby requiring Zozoltin’s stretched lines to be spread even thinner and making any part of his force vulnerable to penetration. With everyone agreed on this, Tizoc allowed Ahuitzotl and his chieftains to go and work out the details while he stayed with his ministers, head priests, and the rulers of Texcoco and Tlacopan to participate in informal conversation with them. He longed to speak with his esteemed friend, Nezahualpilli, whose counsel he valued above all others, but this opportunity came late with the group dispersing slowly, and, when finally the two of them were alone, he opened himself to a subject of deep concern to him.

“What manner of man can this Zozoltin be?” Tizoc pondered aloud. “To have a city choose enslavement or death rather than submission for his sake?”

“You’re still disturbed by this,” Nezahualpilli said. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Its sheer novelty. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“I’ll make my assessment of him when I see him.”

“To have such a hold on his subjects. He willingly receives an obedience the rest of us must attain through force. There’s power in that. Would the Acolhuas accept death for your sake?”

“I doubt it.”

“That’s my point. Surely you must be impressed by what Zozoltin has achieved.”

“You make too much of him, Tizoc—a mistake. He is no greater king than you or I, and if he has the consent of his subjects, it’s because they are unified in their opposition to us. Such circumstances magnify a leader’s greatness in the eyes of his people, but it does not mean he is so superior a man that the rest of us should stand in awe of him. Tomorrow we shall see that he is a king like any other king, nothing more.”

“Yes, and you will see something unique about him. No ordinary man defies his overlords with such a flagrant disregard of their retribution.”

“Tizoc, I’ve heard enough. I will not have you extolling some arrogant king to exaggerated proportions—a king you have never met to know if he even merited so lofty an acclaim out of you. You are the Revered Speaker of the greatest power in the world. It it is Zozoltin who should stand in awe of you. That is our reality—believe it! I shall see you in the morning. Think on what I said.”

This was one of the rare times Tizoc had seen Nezahualpilli in anger and it imparted an unsettling effect on him. Seated alone by the fading fire, he shuddered over the possibility of alienating his ally, the only person he could still call a friend. He was becoming increasingly unsure of himself and correspondingly relied more on his colleague to assist him in his decision-making, and this realization alarmed him. Nezahualpilli was right in asserting there was no greater ruler than the Revered Speaker of the Mexica, Tizoc was thinking, and he had to act the part. Absorbed in such introspection and unhappy about what he saw in himself, and ever more self-conscious over what he perceived as grave shortcomings in his ability to rule, Tizoc was to spend a long drawn-out and sleepless night abusing himself with torments he could neither ignore nor face.