Young Jaguar, The (17 page)

 “Go in and talk to the Warlord yourself, if you
think this piece of dirt worthy of his attention,” said one of the guards. “You
really act strange sometimes, Cuatl, you know that?”

The giant warrior narrowed his eyes. “Just keep an
eye on him.”

His heart pounding, Atolli watched the giant warrior
lingering at some distance, waiting to be noticed. The knot in his stomach was
as tight as a rubber ball.
Come on
, he thought.
It’s so very urgent
.

To his relief, the Warlord’s honed instincts sensed
the warrior’s impatience as he turned and asked something, listening to the
hesitated explanation.

Cuatl hurried back. “He’ll be here shortly.” The
formidable palm grabbed Atolli’s shoulder once again. “If it’s something
stupid, you are a dead man,” he hissed, clearly regretting starting the whole
business.

Atolli was not so sure of himself either anymore.
Hurry
up
, he thought, watching the Emperor fiddling with his food, and his
Warlord still talking calmly. Finally, Father nodded and headed out toward the
corridor.

The look on his face when he saw Atolli was
difficult to comprehend. Eyes wide open and gaping, the man stared at his son
with such an astounded, painful surprise, Atolli wanted to laugh. Nervously at
that.

Cuatl’s fingers dug deeper into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Honorable Warlord,” the formidable
warrior mumbled. “This boy had insisted to see you. He just wouldn’t give up.
So I thought it might be important. I apologize if I was wrong.” The last words
trailed off.

Atolli knew his shoulder bones would crack any
moment. He fought to break free. To no avail.

“Let him go.” Father’s voice was calm, in full
control.

Atolli moved his numb shoulder, making sure it still
worked.

“What was so urgent you wanted to see me about?”

He forced himself to meet the stern, almost hostile
gaze.

“I… I’m sorry… sorry for breaking in like that. I
just… I thought it might be urgent. Well, it is urgent.” He licked his lips,
but it didn’t help. His mouth was as dry as the earth after many summers of
drought. He wished he could get a gulp of water.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “The First Son’s warriors are
about to storm this part of the Palace.”

They all gasped, even the warriors behind his back.

“Impossible!” whispered someone. “They would never
dare!”

His father was the only one to display no reaction.
He stood there motionless as if turned into a marble statue. “How do you know?”

There was no way around this. “I overheard them.
Just before dawn.” He cleared his throat. “The leaders of the guard. The First
Son’s guard. But they are now many, many more than that.”

“How many?”

“Two, three times twenty.”

He could hear the warriors shifting nervously. The
silence hung, preying upon everyone’s nerves.

“Do you believe it, Honorable Leader?” whispered
Cuatl.

 “Yes, I do.” Tecpatl sighed and Atolli marveled at
his father’s self control. Aside from the set jaw, his face remained closed,
impossible to read. “We organize the men we have,” he said finally. “How many
of the guard warriors are present?”

“About twenty men,” said one of the warriors.

“Enough to hold on against a short siege.”

The warriors gasped. Then Cuatl gathered his
courage. “Do you know this boy? Can he be trusted?”

The Warlord’s face did not change. “Yes, this boy is
my son.”

Another gasp from all of those present. The Warlord
paid them no attention.

“Cuatl,” he said. “Round up a few men, no more than
three or four. Go out and find what takes my warriors, the elite ones, so long
to arrive.”

“Gladly, Honorable Leader.” The tall man looked
relieved. “We’ll be back soon.”

“They will watch the gates and the roads outside,”
said Atolli, and they all turned to him, startled. He was not supposed to offer
an advance.

“What do you know about that?” asked Tecpatl
hoarsely. He had not yet talked to his son, and Atolli was grateful even for
those curt words.

He licked his lips. “I don’t. But it does make
sense. They are more numerous than you… than the Emperor’s forces.” He took a
deep breath. “They would try to prevent, wouldn’t they? Anyone going out, to
hurry our people…”

His father's gaze concentrated. The red-rimmed eyes narrowed,
studying Atolli with a measure of new respect. He remembered another occasion,
not very long ago, when his father was also disappointed with him so deeply and
thoroughly, and then he said… what did he say?

He straightened his gaze, afraid to believe it just
yet. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make much sense,” he whispered.

“Well, actually you did.” Tecpatl turned to the
giant warrior. “Try to go out as unnoticeably as you can.”

“Not by the gates?”

“No.”

The warrior frowned. “All right, we’ll find a way.”

 “The wall facing the markets is usually not
guarded. It’s low and easy to climb.”

They stared at him once again and Cuatl’s mouth
began to twitch. “You climbed it, didn’t you, jaguar boy?”

Atolli lowered his gaze.

Their smiles widened. “How many times?”

He shrugged, but now even his father was grinning.
One edge of his mouth went up uninterrupted, while the other moved awkwardly,
shifting the crimson crust of his cut cheek.

Atolli’s stomach twisted, but he tried to suppress
his feelings.  Then the idea flashed. “I’ll go and find Amatl and his
warriors.”

His father’s smile disappeared. “No. Go down the
hall, and tell the slaves to help you wash and change, then come back here.” He
turned to Cuatl. “Are you up to scaling walls? If that’s the situation, you
will have to do with even less men. Only you and one other warrior.”

“But Father…”

Tecpatl whirled at him. “Do as you are told!”

 Taken aback, Atolli stared at his father’s face,
seeing the sudden anger spilling out of the sunken, red-rimmed eyes. There were
dark rings around them, and the rage was bubbling near the surface, threatening
to get out of control. Yet, he felt no fear. Only compassion.

“Father, please listen,” he said quietly. “Please.
They’ll be watching the coming and going. When your forces come, no one will
dare to try to stop them. A pair of warriors trying to sneak out is sure to get
noticed. While a boy of no consequence? I can climb those walls so easily. I
did it many times. I sneaked out of school twenty times and more. I got caught
only once, and it was because of the
octli
. But I did it many, many
times. I can sneak out undetected. I can run all over the city and no one will
notice me. I stand a good chance of finding your people. Better than them, with
all due respect.” The eyes boring into him were softening again. “Please, let
me try to help. I did so many stupid things recently. Please, let me try to
straighten this up, to make it right.”

One side of the thin mouth twitched again. This time
the smile reached the dark eyes.

“It won’t make it right, you know,” said the man
softly. “But it will help me to see what sort of a man you are. I judged you
wrongly, time after time. I’m sorry about that.” A one-sided grin widened, but
humorlessly so. “Be careful and hurry back.” He looked at Cuatl. “Go together.
And keep an eye on each other.”

Chapter 16

She watched the sun rising up beyond the Great
Pyramid. It was the second morning in a row that she sat there, longing for the
sunrise, fearing its coming. She had come to hate this previously favorite spot
upon the flat roof. It made her feel lonelier with every passing moment.

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. There would be dark
rings around them now, she knew. She hadn't gotten much sleep through these
past two days. She hardly slept at all since the night before the last, when
she had still enjoyed the luxury of lying in his arms.

She shivered. Would she ever enjoy a good night’s
sleep again? Without his arms around her, without his touch, without his
presence, his smell – what kind of nights would those be? It was bad enough
with his frequent absences, with all his endless campaigns, but now…

She clasped her palms tight. Why hadn’t she run
after him into the rain? She should have. She should have stopped him at all
costs. She should have made him come in and relax and forget all that silly
nonsense.

How could he think she would go out to see another
man? She, who loved him so much! She should have stopped him by any means. But
she was too stunned, his sudden appearance, his accusations, his disoriented
drunken state coming as an utter surprise. He had not been the Tecpatl she’d
loved for fifteen wonderful summers. Still, it was him all right – someone who
would never hurt her, even in the middle of such a monumental rage.

Where was he now? Was he still asleep, difficult to
wake up after drinking so much
octli
?

Last night she had been tempted to find another
flask all for herself. If he might resort to such means in order to dull the
pain, so could she. But then, she remembered her meeting with the formidable
Uncle of his. She needed her senses as sharp as the obsidian spikes of her
husband’s sword for today.

Stealing a last glance at the bright cloudless sky,
she ran down the wide stairs.

“Make my litter ready,” she said to her maid,
passing by the kitchen areas. She sniffed the air. “Also make a few tortillas
with honey and bring them to my rooms.”

The maid shifted uncomfortably. “Mistress,” she said
in her thick Mayan accent. “You cannot leave the house, remember? But I’ll be
glad to bring you the tortillas,” she added hurriedly.

Sakuna stared at the woman, speechless. “You can’t
be serious.”

The woman examined the floor. “The Master said so.
You heard him too.”

“The Master was drunk and out of his senses,” said
Sakuna, feeling the buds of welling panic.

The woman kept studying the floor.

“Do you want to tell me you will be holding me here
against my will, because of something Tecpatl said when completely drunk and
not responsible for what he was saying?” She heard her voice gaining a shrill
note and made an effort to control herself. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

“I’ll get you your tortillas, Mistress,” said the
woman and fled.

Sakuna felt her heart pumping, rushing the blood up
to her face. Her palms shot to her burning cheeks. Would they really dare to
hold her here against her will? Could they?

She fought the impulse to cross the hall in order to
reach the main entrance. Would they drag her back, should she try to walk out?
The temptation to check it was great. She was not a toy, not a little girl to
be locked in her room. Or the house!

She clutched the woven podium beside one of the
walls. What he had said last night made no sense. Well, it did. But not for
them, surely. The Tepanec women were, indeed, property of their men, their
fathers, their brothers, their husbands, yet it had nothing to do with her and
Tecpatl. She wasn’t
his
property. She was not the property of anyone.
She was a person, and she would go wherever she pleased.

Once her father had tried to treat her like that,
angered at Tecpatl and desperate to take things back under control. But then
Tecpatl was there, ready to fight alongside her, the way she had always fought
by his side too. They were together in this ever since. No, he would never
treat her like that, never!

She made her way into her set of rooms to find the
sweetened tortillas and the slaves nowhere to be seen. Except for the sturdy
fellow loitering around the main entrance.

She clutched her hands together, to stop them from
trembling. Filthy rats, every one of them. What did they know about her and
Tecpatl? They really thought she was his property.

The sun shone brightly through the opening in the
plastered wall. She watched it thoughtfully. What now? To wait for him? She
cursed. Her days were reduced to this desperate waiting. The world was coming
crushing down, and all she could do was wait for him.

Then she remembered, and her back broke out in a
cold sweat. His Uncle would send someone to pick up the herbs around high noon.
To pick up the poison she was supposed to prepare.

Her stomach twisted, for of course, she could make
no poisons; she was not that
good
with herbs. She was playing a
desperate game, to buy time for Tecpatl, to make them postpone the attempt on
his life until he came home and she could warn him. But then, he had come, and
she had not been able to warn him and now he was out there, desperate and
drunk, and furious with her into the bargain. Now even less ready to fight an
attack that might come.

Sitting upon the mat, she stared out of the window.
Well, until noon he was safe. So all she had to do was procure this filthy
poison his Uncle was so anxious to dump into the Emperor’s plate. The emperor could
die for all she cared, as long as Tecpatl would be left alive.

As she rummaged through her chests of clothes, a
slender shadow fell across the room. Whirling about, ready to take her
frustration out on the cheeky slaves, she almost welcomed the opportunity to
lose her temper after all those summers of their insolence.

Flower stood at the doorway.

“What are you doing?” asked the girl warily, eyeing
the clothes thrown around the room.

“Good morning, sweet one. You are up early.” She
smiled at her daughter, forcing herself to calm down.

“Of course I’m up early. There is this ceremony in
the Feathered Serpent’s temple you were sure to forget about.”

Sakuna brought her palm to her lips. The ceremony
she had promised to take the girl to.

“I’m so sorry. You are right. But listen, there is a
problem—”

“I know there is a problem!” stated the girl
crossly. “You are not allowed to leave the house. Of all mornings!” The frown
didn’t sit well with Flower’s gentle features. “But I thought why can't I go by
myself? I’m thirteen, old enough to enter the temples’ services, so surely I
can attend the ceremony, even without you. You may send as many slaves to guard
me as you like.”

Sakuna didn’t hear much of the tirade, staring at
her daughter speechless.

“Who said I’m not allowed to leave the house?”

The girl lifted her eyebrows. “Father, who else?” Her
large eyes narrowed. “I heard him saying it yesterday, when you were busy
making things decent women are not supposed to. I heard everything!”

Her rage was so sudden and overwhelming, she was
afraid it would choke her.

“How dare you? How dare you presume to judge me or
your father? How dare you to listen to grown people’s conversations?” She took
a deep breath. “You are still a child, Flower. You don’t understand any of it.
And you know what? You are not allowed to leave this house either. No ceremony for
you! Actually, you are not allowed to leave your room. Do you hear me? It’s a
punishment for being so insolent and ill-mannered.”

The girl’s hands clutched onto the wooden screen of
the doorway.

“You can’t do this!” she called, beginning to sob.
“You are not… not worthy enough. Father will come home, and he will not let you
treat me like that.”

“Your father will come, and he will not interfere.
The education of a girl is her mother's responsibility, Flower. You know the
laws so well; you should know this one too. And now, go to your room, I have
things to do.”

“I hope Father will throw you out or kill you,”
cried the girl as she ran away toward the patio.

Sakuna clenched her hands tight. The cheeky little
fox. She didn’t need an adolescent crisis on her hands now; they were full as
it was.

She drew her breath loudly. So, apparently the whole
household was sure she was having an affair. Great!

Hurriedly, she changed into a plain unadorned cotton
blouse and skirt. The domestic problems would have to wait. First things first,
she decided, heading toward the small window.

It was not difficult to squeeze through the
rectangular opening. Nor did she find it hard to cling to the wooden railing
and work her way down the ledge. Growing up in Great Houses had made her an
expert on climbing.

Clutching the small bag with cocoa beans and some
jewelry, should the poison turn out to be expensive, she ran toward the low
wall, hoping no one would see her scaling it.

***

Walking the sunlit alleys of the waking city turned
out to be a kind of exercise she had actually needed badly.

Her mood improving with every step, she made it
toward the marketplace, enjoying the rare opportunity to walk. She should do it
more often, she decided. Whatever the custom said, she would not use her litter
anymore, not every time she ventured into the city.

The sun was warming, and she felt like a young girl
again, relishing being completely unattended.

The noblewomen were so restricted, she thought. For
all the luxury, they should try to behave a little like commoners from time to
time.

She chuckled at the thought.

The marketplace looked ruffled after the night
storm. Some stands were broken, and a few wooden beams lay across the road,
forcing the passersby to detour or to climb over.

She climbed those readily, happy to be able to do so
without being frowned upon. No one paid her any attention; she must have looked
common enough. How Flower would be appalled had she known about it. She scowled
at the thought of her daughter, then brushed it aside. She’d have to talk to
the girl when she got back.

As she entered the clamor and the variety of mats
spread between the painted walls, her happiness began to evaporate. The market
seemed to be in a state of turmoil, the sellers, the buyers, the usual
frequenters all moving about, agitated and gesturing. Many were talking and
arguing at the top of their voices, more uproarious than usual.

She was jostled and elbowed as she rushed past the
groups of animated men and women. They were all talking at once, flustered and
excited, and she gathered it had something to do with the politics and the
Palace. Usual and unusual. Markets were definitely a place to discuss it all,
yet the regular frequenters would behave more calmly on the normal mornings,
before the vast amount of
octli
or
pulque
was consumed.

“Oh, pretty one, where are you going in such a
hurry?” called someone, as she pushed her way past the group of men. A rough
palm clutched her arm. “Stay with us, pretty one. On such a day your shopping can
wait.”

She pulled her arm away and dashed for the opening
between the crowds, her heart thumping. With no sturdy slaves to watch over
her, she was quite defenseless, she realized with a sudden tug of panic.

To her relief, the man didn’t follow, and she ran
on, turning the corner toward the quieter parts of the walled area where women
would shop for vegetables and fruits.

What if Eek, the strange Mayan with her variety of
unusual herbs and roots, was not there?

She pushed the thought away and rushed past the
piles of avocado and tomato and stacks of the sweet first maize, her eyes
scanning the mats, searching for the ones filled with baskets and seeds. 

“Careful, you filthy lump of dirt!” yelled a woman
shrilly.

She whirled, not accustomed to being yelled at. The
woman glared at her, squatting but leaning on her hands, ready to spring up.

“What are you staring at? You almost trampled on my
tomatoes, you stupid piece of meat. You have to pay for that one.” She pointed
at the small fruit that had rolled away from the glittering pile of neatly
arranged fruits.

“I didn’t touch your tomatoes!”

“Oh, you didn’t?” The woman sprang to her feet.
“Look at this upper class I-didn’t-touch-your-tomatoes!” she cried out,
addressing her neighbors and the nearby customers. “Strutting around, all
dressed up in nice cotton. No maguey material for such a pretty lady.” She
grabbed Sakuna’s arm. “You pay for that tomato or your pretty little blouse
will not look that pretty anymore.”

Sakuna tugged at her arm, trying to break free. The
woman shifted closer. She smelled of spicy sauce and unwashed clothes. People
began to gather around, chuckling, preparing to watch a good show.

Clenching her teeth, Sakuna pulled harder, now more
angered than panicked.

“Let go of me, you filthy woman,” she hissed and
pushed the woman away.

The commoner gasped and threw herself at her, amidst
the cheers of the onlookers, the abrasive hands reaching for Sakuna’s hair,
tearing the beautiful pins on their way.

Crying out, Sakuna pushed at the woman with all her
strength, but it did not help, and when she received a kick in her shins, she
began to be afraid. Still she kicked back, her sandals of a much better
quality, making the woman cry out too.

Then, someone was between them, and though her eyes
were blurred with tears, she recognized the slender figure of Eek, her hair
wild and stringy, streaming over her unusually dark tunic.

“Let her go!” shouted Eek in her heavily accented
speech, pushing at the woman with a surprising strength. “If you don’t leave
her hair now, I’ll put a curse on you and will make all your tomatoes rot.”