Ahuitzotl. Herb AllengerЧитать онлайн книгу.
His was an impassioned plea, and Nezahualpilli was not left untouched by it, sympathizing with Tizoc over the tribulations tormented him, and he felt obliged to offer some consolation.
“You face a serious setback, Tizoc; I’m not at all sure the people will permit you to forget it. But as for me, be assured my friendship is true. Whatever misgivings I presently feel will pass. I regret your misfortune, but with perseverence, you will overcome this disparity. Trust me on this.”
“You have satisfied me. With your assurance, I’m certain I can surmount this crisis.”
On this amiable note, the two kings retired for the evening. No restful night was in store for Tizoc, however; he remained extremely discomforted over his recollections of the campaign and his yearning that things had turned out different. He wanted to suppress these, but they kept resurfacing to disrupt his efforts at relaxation. In this half asleep, half awake state, he passed the excruciating long hours in wretched misery and turmoil.
The rejoicing which met the armies after they returned from their venture was tarnished considerably when news of what actually had transpired became known. By word of mouth, primarily from the very warriors who had participated in the operation, people learned of the brutal manner in which Toluca was taken, of the flight of their monarch, and of the breakdown of discipline which had permeated the ranks and led to the city’s destruction. They reacted with mixed emotions, combining feelings of outrage, disappointment, and humiliation, and shortly thereafter one could hear derogatory words expressing contempt for the Revered Speaker—seditious words which would have been unthinkable earlier and still ran punitive risks. Clearly the prestige of Tizoc was dangerously diminished, and there were many lords who openly began to discuss if something should be done about it.
Under the rising of this dark cloud Nezahualpilli and his Acolhuas left Tenochtitlan, and already, even as they were making their departure, they could hear derisive remarks said to them and the cheers they received only yesterday were significantly subdued. To the Texcocan it came as a confirmation of what he had suspected—it would indeed be a severe storm that Tizoc must withstand.
As Tizoc watched the procession leave from the second-level quarters of his palace, a sense of loneliness came over him, for this was a time when he was very much in need of Nezahualpilli’s companionship to console him and help him through his adversity. He could confide things in the Texcocan he dared not tell anyone in Tenochtitlan—his innermost feelings and apprehensions—and know he would receive an understanding ear and not be censured or ridiculed for it. Who could he trust here? Cihuacoatl was a sycophant, loyal but cold and insensitive and forever preoccupied with the dignity and status of the monarch’s office. He was a capable minister, an advisor, but not a friend. As for his brother, Ahuitzotl, there was no kinship between them; he despised the ruler and was envious of him. His counsellors, intellectual friends, and the builders he often distrusted—they served him well in an official capacity, but not a personal one. Indeed there was not a person in Tenochtitlan with whom he could discuss his case, and this greatly added to his frustrations.
At this point, while Tizoc absorbed himself in his reflections, Tlalalca entered the room and gingerly snuggled up to him, as together they saw the last elements of the Acolhuacan column departing through the serpent gate. She was familiar enough with Tizoc’s mannerism to know when he wished quietness and said nothing, but he, warmed by her close presence, longingly glanced at her. Perhaps he was wrong, he thought; he could talk to Tlalalca, yet there were things he dared not tell even her. What would she think of him if she knew?
“I wish Nezahualpilli had stayed awhile longer,” he finally said, his despondency revealed in his voice.
“He has his own city to rule,” replied Tlalalca. “It should not matter.”
Tizoc frowned; hers was the kind of response devoid of the sensitivity he solicited and it left him unsettled. He did not reply.
“I see you are in no mood for my company,” Tlalalca noted. “I shall leave you in peace.”
“I want you to stay, Tlalalca.”
“Shall I speak to myself then?”
“No need to feel indignant,” Tizoc weakly smiled. “I merely meant that after the unusual operation we just completed, I would have preferred talking with someone who took part in it.”
Tlalalca intuitively understood that something had gone badly wrong and her searching eyes beckoned for details.
“I may as well tell you,” muttered Tizoc uneasily, “You will learn of it anyway. You’re going to hear that I, lord of our nation, ran from the enemy in the heat of battle and retired from the field. It’s true—I did!—although the circumstances will undoubtedly be reported falsely to you.”
Tlalalca paled; in spite of wanting to appear sympathetic, she found it difficult to conceal her alarm. Tizoc dismissed her unease and went on.
“The Tolucans surprised us by a concentrated attack on our center after we had thinned our lines over a wide area. I was there with Nezahualpilli and Chimalpopoca—also my ministers—when they came at us. Believing my bodyguard would not be able to withstand them, I withdrew from there, with my ministers and priests, to avoid being captured, which might have given the enemy a chance at winning. To make it worse, Nezahualpilli and Chimalpopoca remained to fight and, as it turned out, reinforcements came in time to repel the attack. So my flight amounted to nothing and could only be construed as the act of a recreant by all who observed it.”
Tlalalca was dumb-struck. She needed no explanation on the severe nature of Tizoc’s action as it was common knowledge that soldiers who exhibited such cowardice were usually tried and sentenced to death so they did not contaminate anyone else with their defilement. But for a Revered Speaker—her husband—to have done this came as a jolt.
“What will you do?” was all she could think of saying.
“What can I do?” he moaned bitterly. “I’ll have to ignore it—pretend that it never happened, I suppose. If I dwell on it, I will surely lose my mind.”
“Will anything happen?” Tlalaca worried.
“I don’t think so. Nobody knows what to do, and this will probably work in my favor. By the time the fact-finding committees and inquiry boards are formulated, if such a move is being contemplated by the interclan council, much of this will have faded or at least seem dated and lose its relevancy. The priests will be my strongest allies, for they hold this office as inviolable. I must do my best to foster their friendship.”
“And who is your strongest enemy? Ahuitzotl?”
“Not this time. He allowed—inadvertently he says—our warriors to commit cruel excesses upon the Tolucans and to desecrate the temple of their patron god, which shocked our priests into revulsion. For the time being, he could not get their cooperation against me.”
“This operation grows more bizarre at every word.”
“It was unusual,” Tizoc reflected with sober introspection. “None of us escaped unscathed from it in some way. No wonder Ahuitzotl pledged his word to make no mention of it.”
“He hates you!” Tlalalca raised her voice in exacerbation. “You can’t go by anything that animal tells you!”
“He is my brother, and of royal lineage. Whatever you may say about him, he is a man of honor and will stand by his word.”
“He is your greatest foe! Many speak of his ambitions, and these events in Toluca—I speak of your conduct!—have certainly granted him an opportunity to press for an advantage. You would be well advised to fear him!”
“Fear him? No! By the Gods, that is one thing I will no longer do! If there’s anything I’ve learned from this affair, it’s that I was a fool to ever have let him intimidate me with his arrogant ways, but no more.”
Again Tlalalca was astonished. At no prior time had she heard Tizoc repudiate Ahuitzotl with such mettle, as if the campaign had transformed his character into a bolder