Ahuitzotl. Herb AllengerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
XI
All that afternoon couriers, running in relays with each one covering a stretch of approximately five leagues, carried eagerly anticipated words from the Mexica ambassador at Toluca for his monarch in Tenochtitlan. His message, written on paper in the pictographic style of the scribes, was transported in a deerskin pouch slung over each runner’s shoulder. In this manner, the distance between Toluca and the capital was traversed in less than half a day and as the sun was setting, a final runner crossed the Tlacopan causeway and entered the central plaza heading in the direction of the royal palace. He nearly dropped from exhaustion when he handed his pouch to the court orderly who immediately took it to the main hall where Tizoc was in conference with his major priests and commanders.
“Your message from Toluca, Lord!” he said as he transferred the pouch to Cihuacoatl. Everyone stood still as the minister removed the papers and gave them to Tizoc; all eyes were focused on him as he unfolded the codices and read them section by section without a trace of emotion. Finally, when his spellbound audience was at its breaking point, he looked up.
“It’s confirmed,” Tizoc announced. “Our ambassador offered Zozoltin a final plea for surrender and was rejected. He properly reminded the Tolucan that his refusal amounted to war, presenting him with a shield, bow and arrow, and the protective tunic.”
“Excellent!” rejoiced Ahuitzotl. “At the sun’s rising tomorrow, we shall sound the war drum to assemble our warriors.”
“Let a priest dress himself as Painal, Huitzilopochtli’s messenger, and proclaim this war to everyone with his rattle and shield,” Tizoc added.
Tizoc, whose lack of enthusiam for this venture strained his audience, wished to be alone and soon those in attendance acceded to his desire and hastily departed—all but Nezahualpilli. Long after the hall had been emptied, the brooding monarch sat quietly in his throne, absorbed in his cogitation, while leaving his guest to pace the floor at much discomfort to himself.
“If my lord will tell me what troubles him,” Nezahualpilli spoke out, finding the silence intolerable, “perhaps I can be of some assistance.”
“It is nothing.”
“You are usually more generous with your hospitality, Lord. Am I to just stand here over nothing?”
“You know the way to your chamber. Do not stay here on my account.”
“It’s too early.”
“If you wish to be entertained, go to one of my mistresses. I’m not disposed towards amusing anyone this evening.”
“I have more than enough of them so that they no longer entertain me. No, Tizoc, I prefer that we should speak. We do not see each other often and when we do, we should conduct ourselves in a manner befitting the lords that we are and share our mutual concerns.”
“Yes, you’re quite right—excuse my contemplation if it seems rude. I am thinking about this entire sordid affair. It appears what we considered a prudent alternative to Toluca’s destruction is seen as a monumental joke by its own ruler. Where did we go wrong?”
“There were weaknesses in the plan that we failed to give due regard. The more one thinks of it, the more they come to light. We cannot be certain if their ambassador, Tecolotl, even related our ultimatum. Zozoltin may be of such temperment that he vents fury upon envoys bearing ill tidings. Tecolotl, knowing this, may have said nothing, or distorted your words to him. It’s one of many ways in which our intent could have been miscarried.”
“True, but the Tolucans knew, when they refused their tribute quotas, war was inevitable.”
“Maybe Ahuitzotl is correct in thinking that they want this war.”
“What madness! How can Zozoltin possibly believe he can stand up against our might?”
“That I can’t tell you. He may well be demented.”
“And all his nobles too, I suppose.”
“Under a delusion, Tizoc—expecting they can escape our wrath. They miscalculated our intent to maintain the domain established by the revered Motecuhzoma and Axayacatl.”
“Is this because I am the Revered Speaker?”
“I’m not clear what you allude to, Tizoc.”
“There are those who say that because I prefer seeking other solutions to conflicts than war, I am perceived as weak by our enemies—that this even may have inspired Zozoltin to carry out his rebellion, and accounts for his present defiance. Surely you’ve heard this.”
“I do not place much value on such talk. Revolts against the imposition of our tributes have been happening since our realm was founded. Axayacatl waged frequent wars on people he had previously conquered. It is nothing new.”
“What about my aversion for wars?”
“Is this true?”
“There’s no denying we achieved great power through our aggressiveness, and no doubt have ingratiated ourselves to the gods for this, but we haven’t generated any amiability among our neighbors. Ultimately this will prove disastrous for us. It would be beneficial for all if we struck a more favorable accord among us—our ceaseless wars contribute nothing to this.”
“You contest our reason for being, Tizoc. As a ruler, it is your sacred duty to discharge our divine obligations.”
“Do you actually believe this?”
“It’s what the priests tell us.”
“Then it must be so!” Tizoc exclaimed sarcastically.
“It is so, Tizoc! And it’s dangerous for you to challenge this. A Revered Speaker cannot relinquish himself from these ordained responsibilities—he is sworn to uphold them! I’m not that fond of wars myself—they disrupt my devotion to the arts—but I see them as necessary.”
“You are by reputation the most learned man in the realm, Nezahualpilli,” Tizoc said, unable to hide his disappointment over the Texcocan’s counsel, “but you speak to me as if I