Authors: Marella Sands
“You can ⦠you can tell Jade Flute when you see her that I will be home as soon as I can. And that I love her.”
“Of course, Lord,” said Corn Husk. “We are your humble servants.”
“Anything you should ever ask of us, we will do,” said Tree Conch. “I swear it in the name of Itzamna.”
“Thank you,” said Sky Knife, pleased to have helped them but embarrassed by the emotional display. “Now I must go. I'll see you again in Tikal.”
“Yes, Lord, we will be there waiting for you,” said Tree Conch.
Sky Knife stood and took out the Hand of God from its bag. Both Corn Husk and Tree Conch bowed their heads before it.
“Itzamna go with you and keep you safe on your trail,” said Sky Knife. He replaced the knife in its bag.
“Come on,” he said to Whiskers-of-Rat. The guide, who had been viewing the scene with undisguised amusement, jumped to his feet.
“To Cacao's house,” directed Sky Knife.
Whiskers-of-Rat bowed and led him out of the courtyard. Sky Knife wondered how long it would take Tree Conch and his family to leave the city. Sky Knife wanted to go with them when they did. At least, if he completed his task for Jaguar's Daughter soon, he could look forward to getting back home as quickly as possible.
But he had no idea how long that was going to be, and he was sworn to stay until he had succeeded. Sky Knife left the Mayan compound, envious that Tree Conch and his family would see Tikalâand Jade Fluteâbefore he did.
As Whiskers-of-Rat had predicted, the way back to the central street and the market from the Mayan compound seemed much shorter than the trip to the compound. The featureless white plaster compounds passed by on either side of the street until Whiskers-of-Rat and Sky Knife rejoined the crowd in the main avenue.
The sudden sense of openness after the tightly packed alleyways of the city was a relief. Sky Knife took a deep breath of the late morning air, glad to leave the close, airless, rotted-vegetable scent of the alleys for the fresher scents of the center of the city. Sky Knife could smell sweat and cooking meat, and all of it mixed with the heavy spicy scent of copal.
The new sandals Corn Husk had given him were too big and they made Sky Knife walk with an awkward, mincing step. But he appreciated her thoughtfulness and generosity. He doubted Corn Husk and Tree Conch had many pairs of sandals they could give up.
Whiskers-of-Rat led him past the market to a neighborhood where the alleys were wider and the white plaster walls ringed with murals about halfway up. The children in the alleys were dressed in fine cotton shirts. Several even wore jade necklaces or shell-encrusted sandals.
Whiskers-of-Rat stopped in front of a wide opening flanked by more murals of rivers containing the mysterious eye.
Yax-um
feathers, long and green, lay on the banks of the brilliantly painted rivers.
“Lord Sky Knife of Tikal to see Chief Administrator Cacao,” shouted Whiskers-of-Rat into the courtyard beyond. Sky Knife peered in, but the courtyard looked much the same as the one in Tree Conch's compound, right down to the circular hole in the center.
A tall woman dressed in a flowing purple dress that left her shoulders bare came across the courtyard. Her hair was tied and pinned on her head. She looked as though she was a few years younger than Sky Knife, probably sixteen or so. A choker of jade beads carved to resemble flowers encircled her neck.
“Cacao is waiting,” the woman said without introduction. She gestured for Sky Knife to enter. “Remain outside,” she said to Whiskers-of-Rat.
The woman's dismissal of his guide annoyed Sky Knife. “I understand if Cacao does not wish to invite my guide to the meal,” he said, though he wasn't sure he did understand, “but at least my guide should be offered a place to rest.” He remembered that at the central administration bureau of the market Whiskers-of-Rat had stayed outside.
The woman stared down her long nose at Sky Knife. “My father said nothing about
dung,
” she said.
“What?” asked Sky Knife.
“It is a ⦠an insult,” said Whiskers-of-Rat. “A, uh, animal dropping?”
“This is the house of the Chief Administrator of the Market of Teotihuacan, the Center of the World,” the woman said. “
He
is just a man who takes advantage of others. A thief.”
Anger rose in Sky Knife's chest and choked him. “Perhaps,” he said as calmly as he could manage, “you will tell your father that I shall have to forego the courtesy of his invitation until another time.”
“Daughter, what is keeping my guest?” Cacao came into the courtyard.
“Your guest chooses to renounce your invitation,” said the woman.
“What? Whatever for?” Cacao stood behind his daughter, looking puzzled.
“I merely said I shall have to forego your invitation until such time as my companion is granted a place to rest while we eat,” said Sky Knife. “I would also appreciate that my guide should not be insulted in my presence.”
“Insulted? Of course, no insult is intended to you or your guide,” said Cacao. “Come in, please.”
Cacao's daughter looked disgusted and walked away before she could be introduced. Sky Knife was not sorry to see her go. Nor was he sorry that Cacao did not call her back or ask what insult she had given, though he was surprised. Perhaps it was not Teotihuacan custom, though. This
was
the first Teotihuacano household he had visited except the palace, and Sky Knife guessed customs were probably a little different where the king's family was concerned.
“I trust you have had an interesting morning,” said Cacao as he led Sky Knife and Whiskers-of-Rat into the courtyard.
“Oh, yes,” said Sky Knife. “Quite interesting.” Now that he was inside the courtyard, he could see he had been mistaken. The part of the courtyard that could be seen from the street was plain, but the courtyard was an L-shape: most of it was around a corner. And it was magnificent.
Baskets hanging from the tops of the walls contained plants that trailed their delicate limbs and leaves down the walls to the ground. Murals dominated every wall, each one containing a different, brilliantly-painted, scene. On Sky Knife's left, framed by a strange border of human hearts, a flute-playing jaguar band of musicians danced. The entire scene was executed in a lighthearted manner that made Sky Knife smile, even at the powerful image of the jaguar.
Several ceramic censers such as had been in his room in the palace sat in various places around the courtyard. A servant had one apart and was refilling it with fresh coals.
“It's remarkable,” he said to Cacao, who motioned for Sky Knife to sit on a strange lumpy cotton throw on the ground. Sky Knife sat gingerly, unsure what kind of blanket this might be.
The blanket covered something soft but firm enough to carry Sky Knife's weight. He picked up a corner of the throw and looked underneath. The throw covered an animal skin sack stitched together from several pieces of leather. Bits of hay and sweet grasses poked out of the stitching. Sky Knife dropped the corner of the throw and nodded approval. He had never seen anything like this before, but now that he had, it seemed an obvious thing to make. Softer than a stone bench, certainly. Perhaps Jade Flute would like one.
Whiskers-of-Rat bowed to Cacao and sat on a bench near the door to the street. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Your presence honors me,” said Cacao to Sky Knife. “Please, join me in a cup of
chocolate.
”
“What?” asked Sky Knife. Cacao's daughter returned with a tray loaded with two deep ceramic cups of the thin orange pottery he had seen in the market. A larger orange vase sat on three feet in the center of the tray. Cacao's daughter put the tray down on a low wooden table and left. Her father poured a dark gray liquid out of the vase into each cup.
“Chocolate,”
Cacao said again. “It's made from the beans for which I was named.” He handed one of the cups to Sky Knife.
The cup was warm and the liquid inside simmered and steamed as if very hot. A thin light gray film sat on top of the liquid. Whatever the stuff was, it had to be very expensive. Although Sky Knife had never had any himself, he knew that cacao beans were more precious than jade, precious enough to be used as a standard of trade. Merchants from Teotihuacan often spoke of objects in reference to their worth in beans. To see them drink a concoction made from beans, then, was a wonder.
“It does take some practice to drink it this hot,” said Cacao, “but it is bitter when cool. Please, drink.”
Sky Knife lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. The scalding hot liquid burned his tongue and throat as it slid past. Sky Knife gasped, eyes watering. The brew was as bitter as any herb he had ever tasted. How much worse would this stuff be when it cooled off?
Sky Knife waited a few moments for the stinging pain in his throat and tongue to settle down. He took another sip of the stuff. The second sip was as bitter as the first.
“Ah,” said Cacao, who had taken a swig from his own cup. “This is truly the food of the gods.” Cacao raised his cup to his face and inhaled deeply of the steam.
Sky Knife ran his tongue around his mouth wondering how far he dared let the stuff cool off before trying it again. “I've never heard of this before,” he said, delaying a third sip. “It must be quite expensive to produce.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” said Cacao. “Just this one jar took several hundred beans to make.”
“Several hundred?” asked Sky Knife, stunned. The sheer amount of wealth Cacao had sacrificed just for a cup of acrid gray fluid! Sky Knife clutched his own cup more tightly, humbled to think Cacao would have squandered such wealth on
him.
“Yes,” said Cacao. “Most people keep the beans and use them in trade without realizing their true potential. We call this the food of the gods because only the gods could have conceived such excellence. I enjoy it, as I'm sure the gods must.” Cacao leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “And since this
is
the food of the gods, then it ought to help one stay young like the gods. So I drink at least a little bit each day.”
Sky Knife's mind boggled at the amount of wealth Cacao must funnel into this particular habit. “To stay young?” he asked. “What happens if it leaves you young and destitute?”
Cacao laughed. “That won't happen,” he said. “I plan on being young and rich for a long time yet.”
“Then being the Chief Administrator of the Market is a profitable position.”
Cacao shrugged, a sly grin on his face. “Oh, I get a bit here, a bit there. It adds up if you know what you're doing.”
Sky Knife didn't know what to say to that. He glanced back down at his cup. Small gray blobs had separated out of the concoction and floated around on top. The stuff looked unappealing, but Sky Knife was determined to drink it. He gulped some down, glad it had cooled off enough to just be hot and not scalding.
In doing so, he discovered Cacao had been right. Even though it had cooled off only slightly, the brew was more bitter than before. Sky Knife finished the rest of the liquid as quickly as he could.
“Wonderful stuff, isn't it,” said Cacao. It wasn't a question and Sky Knife only nodded in response. “My daughter will be bringing out our meal shortly.”
“Could my guide be given some water?” asked Sky Knife. “Or even some food? We have been out in the city all day.”
“Of course,” said Cacao. “He will be given water.”
Sky Knife waited a moment, wondering if Cacao would offer Whiskers-of-Rat food, but the other man said nothing more. It seemed strangeâhow could Cacao waste more wealth than Sky Knife had ever owned or even dreamed of owning on a bitter drink, but balk at providing Whiskers-of-Rat a few scraps of food?
Customs were definitely different here. Sky Knife glanced toward Whiskers-of-Rat, but the guide appeared to be dozing.
Cacao's daughter came back of the house and took away the tray and the cups.
“Tell me, Lord Priest,” said Cacao. He stretched his legs and yawned. “How do you like our city?”
“It's big,” said Sky Knife, though as soon as he said it he realized how stupid he sounded. “I mean, I've never seen anything like it. The murals, the pyramidsâthe people, too. And your customs are different from ours. Quite different. Yesterday, I met a woman who sells her body to menâif a woman of my city did that, she would be executed before sunset so she could travel with the sun to the Lords of Night.”
Cacao nodded and looked toward the entrance to the house. “Where is our meal?” he shouted. He turned back to Sky Knife. “A
prostitute,
” he said, using the same word Whiskers-of-Rat had used the day before. “My daughter's mother was one once. No doubt, given your customs, you would be appalled, but I spied her in the market and knew at once she was special.”
“Special?”
“Oh, yes.” Cacao laughed. “She had not squandered the wealth she had accumulated on frivolous things like pretty dresses and jewelry. She was a wealthy woman even then. It took some convincing to get her to see that an alliance with me would be beneficialâshe felt she could achieve more wealth on her own. But eventually she, uh, was swayed.”
Cacao's daughter came out with a deep bowl in one hand and a flat tray in the other. She placed the bowl and the tray in front of Sky Knife. The tray contained layer after layer of thin white tamales, while the bowl held a meat and vegetable mix unfamiliar to Sky Knife.
“You are my guest. You must eat first,” said Cacao. Sky Knife scooped some of the meat and vegetables into a tamale, rolled it up and took a bite. The meat was mild and the spices complemented it rather than overpowered it. He took a second bite.
“It's good,” he said when he had swallowed.
Cacao grinned and grabbed his own tamale and meat.