Authors: Colin Falconer
———————
The moon fell below the hills. A shadow down in the street hurried inside a darkened doorway. A servant answered the timid knock and escorted the visitor across a wide patio and into a torch-lit audience chamber.
The house was silent; the city slept.
“Did the Spanish devils follow you here?” Bird in the Reeds whispered.
“I was very careful, Mother. I waited until the guards were asleep.”
Bird in the Reeds made space for her visitor beside her on the reed mat. Another servant brought foaming cups of chocolatl. Malinali’s hands shook as she took the hot spiced drink in its earthenware cup.
The girl is terrified, Bird in the Reeds decided. Those barbarians! They dare to come here with those murderous Texcaltéca, their leader masquerading as Feathered Serpent! Death is too good for them.
She studied her visitor closely. She was thin but that was not unexpected after her tribulations. Her features were not displeasing to the eye. But there was the danger that she might carry these barbarians' seed in her. That might be a problem.
“Tell me about yourself,” Bird in the Reeds said.
Malinali kept her eyes respectfully on the floor. “I was born in Painala, a day’s march from Coatzacoalcos. My mother was Mexica, the daughter of a great nobleman, a descendant of Lord Face in the Water, Motecuhzoma’s grandfather. My father was a chilan, a priest and a soothsayer of much reputation.”
Bird in the Reeds felt her heart leap. She had been right to trust her instincts. If this Malinali had royal blood in her veins - and that could be verified - she would be a great asset as a wife. The only hope for advancement in the royal court these days was to be a proven blood relative, however distant, of the current emperor.
“I was kidnapped from my village and forced to live with the Maya at Potonchan. I was sold to these Spaniards, as they call themselves, and they forced me stay with them against my will. When they discovered I had the elegant speech and knew also the animal grunts of the Mayans, they kept me as their interpreter. They forced me to learn their barbarian language also, so I could communicate with them directly.”
“What of this Malintzin who professes to be Feathered Serpent?”
“I confess I believed the legend was true when I first saw him. He has some physical resemblance and his men have magical powers, like their firesticks and the iron serpents that breathe fire and smoke. But I have since learned that they are mortal, as we are. They want only to steal our gold and chocolate and jade.”
“I knew it!” the old woman said, “I knew he was not a god!” She took Malinali’s hand. “You must have suffered greatly.”
She nodded. “If I try and run away I am afraid they will kill me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Perhaps I can help you. You are a pleasing looking girl and you have been well educated. With your Mexican blood you could attract a good husband. You deserve a kinder fate.”
“First I have to escape these Spaniards.”
“I could hide you here.”
“They would not rest until I was found. It will only make trouble for you.”
Bird in the Reeds wondered if now was the right time to speak. But she could not contain herself. “They will not be able to make trouble for me, little Malinali, because they will all be dead.”
“Dead?”
“I should not be telling you ...”
“What can you not to tell me? What is going to happen?”
Bird in the Reeds hesitated. She had been sworn to secrecy but what could she do? Why should a fine daughter of the Mexica die with the rest of these devils? It was her duty to save her. And if they could verify her bloodline, one of her sons might soon find himself among the elite of Tenochtitlán.
She lowered her voice, as if there were eavesdroppers in every corner of the empty room. “My husband and other senators have been communicating secretly with Motecuhzoma. Our Revered Speaker wants the strangers killed. They are to be starved out of their quarters and slaughtered as they try and leave the city.”
Malinali gaped at her.
“Why should you die with them? I have a son and he is of an age to marry now. Provided you do not have a monster in your belly from these Spaniards you can knot your cloak to his and learn to live like a Person again.”
“I wish that I could, but it is hopeless. You cannot beat them. They defeated the Texcaltéca even though they were greatly outnumbered. They are devils.”
“They may be devils on the field of flowers, but when they are marching in single file through our city streets and are trapped there, they will not be such formidable enemies.”
Malinali leaned forward eagerly, and her hands clutched at the old woman’s. “I shall dream of that moment, Mother. But how can I get away? What should I do?”
“For now you must do nothing. We shall wait until the last moment, for we do not wish to raise their suspicions. As soon as they make preparations to leave you must hurry here and I will hide you until it is all over.”
Bird in the Reeds laid a hand on her arm.
“Did they hurt you? Did they make you do many terrible things?”
“I really thought they were gods,” she said. “I have been such a fool.” She wept.
Bird in the Reeds held the girl in her arms. Poor, dear child.
———————
The next day Cortés sent a message to the two
cacique
s of Cholula, the Lord of the Here and Now and the Lord of Below the Earth, to advise them that he was leaving the city the next morning. He asked for food for the journey as well as porters to carry these provisions and one thousand warriors as protection. He also requested that they and all the chief lords of the city attend him in the court of the temple of Feathered Serpent for a ceremonial farewell.
———————
Almost two thousand Cholulan warriors and porters shuffle into the broad court, led by their most senior chiefs and senators. When they are all inside, the Spanish soldiers close and bar the gates behind them.
These Cholulans look around at the black maws of the iron serpents, at the thunder gods with their firesticks on the steps of the pyramid and the ramparts of the walls. The silence is terrible.
My lord rides out on his great warhorse, and I follow behind him on foot. He stops a few paces from the Lord of the Here and Now and the Lord of Below the Earth, and they wilt in his presence. He addresses himself first to me.
“Greet these gracious lords of Cholula,” he says, and I can hear the anger in his voice. “Tell them they are most kind to bid me farewell on this fine morning. It is one of the few kindnesses I have received from them. I came here as their friend and I did not expect to receive such scant hospitality.”
I pass these sentiments to the Lord of the Here and Now who is openly dismayed to hear them. “The Lord Malinche is not happy with the lodgings we provided for him and his men?”
I repeat what he has said to my lord and our eyes meet. It is as if he is looking to me for further verification. But what can I tell him more? Everything I know I whispered to him last night in our bed.
“Ask him why he has tried to starve us out of his city.”
When he hears this question the Lord of the Here and Now looks panicked. “The orders came from Motecuhzoma himself. What were we to do?”
Oh, he is an extraordinarily good liar but I do not think it will do him any good now. “He says the orders came from the Emperor.”
The great beast my lord sits astride snorts and stamps its foot, as if it understands what is said and is angered by it. “Tell him you know all about his lies,” my lord says.
I face the assembly of Cholulan lords, see Angry Coyote watching from behind the Lord of the Below the Earth. “I warned you before we arrived at this city that my lord could read your minds as well as he can hear your words. That is how he knows that you have taken Motecuhzoma’s gold in return for setting a trap for us as we leave this city. He knows about the stones piled on the rooftops and the pitfalls in the streets ...”
The Lord of the Here and Now and the Lord of Below the Earth look startled. They are starting to panic.
“We were afraid,” the Lord of Below the Earth shouts, “our lifelong enemies were camped outside our gates and you have Totonáca with you right inside our city. Could you blame us for making preparations to defend ourselves? “
I wonder if that is the real reason their women and children were sent out of the city. Was it fear, not treachery, after all?
What if am I wrong about this? What if these Cholulan plans were just the mutterings of an old woman?
“Motecuhzoma asked us to attack you,” the Lord of Below the Earth is saying, “but we refused. How could we harm Feathered Serpent in his own city?”
“What are they saying?” Cortés asks me. I hear the uncertainty in his voice.
“They deny everything.”
My lord is breathing fast, struggling with the decision.
“It is Motecuhzoma who is at fault!” the Lord of the Here and Now shrieks at me. “Not us!”
If he had only stayed still.
But he sees the look on my lord’s face, understands how close he is to death, and loses faith in the truth, if that was what it is. He turns and runs.
Immediately Feathered Serpent draws his sword and brings it down in a sweeping arc, the pre-arranged signal for what follows now.
———————
Some of the Cholulans escape the bloody slaughter of the iron serpents and firesticks and arrows and escape into the plaza; where they find the lancers waiting for them on their warhorses. They set about dying while the rest of the city is waking from sleep. When it is done the soldiers make their bloody sweep through the town. They find no army waiting for them on the rooftops, no ambush lying in wait.
The people of Cholula flee the city gates, onto the waiting obsidian spears of the Texcaltéca who are eager to settle old scores.
Meanwhile, in the court of the temple of Quetzalcóatl, I watch the thunder lords complete the work they have begun. My lord’s soldiers seek out those still moaning and twitching and fillet them with the dexterity of a temple priest.
I look around for Feathered Serpent but he is gone.
Smoke rose from the blistered beams of a roof, a swarm of flies buzzed around the blackened leg of a corpse. A coyote looked up at Benitez’s approach, then returned to its feast. A bloody handprint smudged an adobe wall.
Norte staggered towards him. There were clots of blood on his sword. “For the glory of God, eh Benítez!”
Benítez said nothing. He had been a soldier for just a few months and had thought the worst he would ever see was the carnage on the plains of Texcála. He had never imagined anything like this. His heel skidded in a pool of gore and he almost fell.
What if we imagined it all? he wondered. All we had as evidence was the sum of our own fears, enhanced by the words of an old woman and the slander of the Totonacs. We bowed to the urgings of the Texcálans who only wanted an excuse to grab the women and the plunder and take their revenge.
“Nothing like the slaughter of innocent women and children for the glory of God, Benítez?”
Benítez grabbed Norte’s tunic and forced him against a wall. “They planned this same slaughter for us!”
“I beg your leave. I quite forgot the reasons for our killing here. I have lived with barbarians for eight years and forgot that is the sacred duty of a Christian gentleman to butcher the ignorant and the unprepared.”
“There is blood on your sword also.”
“It belongs to one of our allies. A Texcálan. He was trying to rape a child. So I killed him. You always said I could not be trusted. Would you have me hanged for it?”
Benítez released him.
“The Cholulans were right, weren’t they?” Norte hissed at him. “They said they were afraid of the Texcálans. They had reason to be. Our new friends are like wild beasts.”
Benítez pushed him away, stumbled on through the rank and loathsome streets. Coyotes screamed and vultures circled in the sky.
“It was Malinali!” Norte screamed after him. “Malinali persuaded him to do it!”
———————
It is late in the Fifth Watch of the Night and the glow of the burial fires can be seen against the black sky. My lord is again on his knees before a portrait of the Mother and Babe. He hears me enter and carefully unfolds his hands from prayer as if he is putting aside a pair of delicate silk gloves. “Gods are sometimes beneficent,” he murmurs, “but there are other times when they have no choice but to punish. Is that not the way?”
“They are even killing the children,” I tell him. It is impossible to describe to him the turmoil I feel inside. It is as if I have woken from a vivid dream to find myself in a world inhabited by shadows; everything is grey, nothing has shape, and nothing is what it once seemed.
My lord gets to his feet. There is a strange light in his eyes. He grabs me by the arm, hurting me. “I did not want this. They brought this on themselves.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“But it was you who told me of this plot! I trusted you! You said you were sure!”
“I thought I was sure.” I try to pull free but he is too strong.
“It had to be done! Now there will be no further rebellions against us. Already, other
cacique
s have sent us messages asking for peace.”
“But there is so much death.”
“It had to be done,” he says, as if trying to convince himself. He strokes my hair, and suddenly his arms are around me. I do not resist him. He lifts me easily and lays me on the scrap of bed. “It had to be done,” he says, a third time.
He is not gentle. He mounts me, and I cling tightly to him, hoping that the act of loving him will heal the pain, that his kisses and embraces and the murmur of his endearments will heal me.
Afterwards, as I lie on my back, his body sprawled across me, I strain my ears to the silence. It is no good. I can still hear the screams.
Tenochtitlán
Flamingos picked their way fussily through the shallows, their rose pinks reflected in the still ponds; parrots of carmine and royal blue flashed through the greenery to hang squabbling in the vines. A tiny blue hummingbird hovered at the mouth of a trumpet flower, while an eagle picked over a raw carcass brought fresh from the temple earlier that day.
Woman Snake hurried through the royal aviary and up the steps to a gallery that commanded a panoramic view over the entire zoo. He was surprised to find Motecuhzoma in a light mood. After the news from Cholula he anticipated another of his tearful rages. Instead he seemed relaxed, even confident.
“Lord, my Lord, my Great Lord,” he murmured, approaching on hands on knees. “You required my presence.”
“I want you to send a message for me to Cholula.”
“As you command.”
“Send our envoys with presents for Lord Malinche and tell them to congratulate him on punishing these Cholulans. He is to be assured that I had no part in any plot made against him. Ask him also to convey himself with all speed to Tenochtitlán, for I long to meet with him.”
Woman Snake wondered at this change of heart. “But, great Lord, until now we have done our utmost to discourage him.”
“We have nothing more to fear from this Malinche. Any anger he may have harboured against us has been spent on Cholula. Let him hasten here if that is what he wishes.”
“As you command.”
Woman Snake departed on hands and knees.
Motecuhzoma smiled. News of the massacre had allayed his fears. Although Feathered Serpent was the lord of enlightenment, like any beneficent god he also had a dark side. This slaughter at Cholula was retribution for all the human sacrifices that had been made there in his name. It was proof of his divinity.
Now Motecuhzoma was certain he was dealing with a god and not a man, he felt strangely calm. He spent the rest of the day, alone, listening to the birds, and did not return to the palace until long after nightfall.
I lie awake for a long time, my lord’s warm breath on my breast. I feel bruised in all my secret places. But why should I expect him to be gentle? Men are rarely gentle. Besides, I am sucking the honey not from a man, but from a god.
He is awake, but lies quietly. Soon he will rise to put on his armour and go out to patrol the sentry posts, as he has done every night since the massacre. I wonder if he is afflicted by the same terrible dreams as I.
I cannot forget my betrayal of Birds in the Reed. Was it mindless prattle that had consigned all those thousands to their deaths?
And what of my lord? He claims he is not a god and yet he surely behaves like one, bewildering and unpredictable by turns. One moment he is gentle, kneeling before his mother and babe picture, taking terrible risks to throw down the sacrificial stones in Cempoallan; yet he will, at a whim, sentence men to have their faces and limbs destroyed, order a whole town slaughtered and burned.
So where shall I now seek out my Lord of Gentle Wisdom? For the first time I realise that though he must surely be divine, the god in him may not be Feathered Serpent.
But what can I do? There is no turning back, I have come too far. Without his protection, I am a heart roasting in a brazier; without the means to realise my father’s promise I have nothing to live for.
I feel as if I have woken in the forest at night; I cannot trust the darkness, and I do not know which way to run. I can only wait, and wonder from which direction the monsters will come.
Cortés stared at the new bounty Motecuhzoma had seen fit to send him; the gold and jewellery at his feet must be worth two thousand crowns, and that did not include the pile of richly embroidered cloaks beside it, tall as a man.
It seems the more Indians I slaughter, the more generous my lord Motecuhzoma becomes.
He caught Malinali’s eye and wondered what she was thinking. Hard to read her these last few weeks. Since Cholula she had become withdrawn and sullen. And yet it was her word that had led him to give the order for the town’s destruction. What was he to make of her?
“Give them my usual greetings,” he said to her, “and ask them what message they have from their king.”
She conferred with them and then turned back to Cortés. “Their lord Motecuhzoma sends you his greetings and regrets that the Cholulans have annoyed you. The Revered Speaker has always found them a tiresome people and thinks you have probably been too gentle in dealing with them. He now wonders why you still endure the miserable company of the Texcaltéca and asks instead that you make haste to his capital where he will do his best to entertain you. These men offer their services as guides and will ensure that provisions for the journey are provided along the way.”
“Well, this is a different song.”
“It may be a trick.”
“I do not doubt it. Everything in this land appears to be no more than an illusion.”
He massaged his temples with his fingers. There was a nagging pain behind his eyes. He had not slept well since the slaughter. Fray Olmedo had assured him he had acted in the only manner open to him, in the best interests of the Church and the State, and that much good had come of his actions for those Cholulans who had survived had immediately converted to Christianity. Cortés himself had made his confession and been granted absolution.
Yet sleep had been difficult these past weeks.
“Thank them for their presents and tell them I look forward to the great pleasure of gazing on their emperor’s visage soon,” he said.
After the envoys had gone he was left alone with Malinali. Her black eyes were liquid, impenetrable.
She had become much more than his mistress. Without her he could not have won over the Totonacs or the Texcálans; without her he would have fallen victim to the perfidy of the Cholulans. He needed her now as he had needed no woman in his life. If she should fail him he would be abandoned to the darkness of this Motecuhzoma and no power on earth could save him.
She held sway over his life’s destiny, and it terrified him.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Well, caro, on to Tenochtitlán.”
“Yes, my lord,” she answered, “Tenochtitlán.” She returned his embrace, but it seemed to him that lately there was neither warmth nor affection in it.