Ahuitzotl. Herb AllengerЧитать онлайн книгу.
have any omens been received in connection with this undertaking?”
“Not by me, Lord Tizoc, but perhaps by my associate who specializes in such matters. He is skilled in concocting the divine potions which induce these visions.”
A second priest stepped forward, and as he chanced to look into the monarch’s eyes, a sudden shocked expression came over his face that abruptly halted him. Tizoc was startled.
“Is something amiss?” he fretted.
“No! It is nothing, Lord!”
“But I saw…”
“An uncontrolled reflex, Lord!—from the potions we consume. It strikes us momentarily at certain intervals without warning to numb our senses in the manner you have just observed.”
“I would not have deemed it a numbing of senses. It struck me more like a—a revelation.”
“So you may have interpreted it, Lord, but I assure you it was an involuntary reaction.”
The priest’s assertion did little to soothe Tizoc’s troubled composition. What he had just witnessed was not a bodily response to drugs, of which he was familiar enough, but a reaction initiated by the priest looking at him. The priest saw something, and whatever it was, it impacted as a profound shock. Despite his alarm, Tizoc strove to maintain a dignified countenance and avoided further allusion to the incident.
“You are a seer?” he asked the priest.
“I am regarded as such, Lord.”
“Have you had any premonitions involving our plans?”
‘Only one, Lord. A dream came to me in which I perceived the recognizable features of a city I knew to be Toluca. Above it, I saw an eagle in flight at early dawn and it was approaching its prey, a quail hiding in some bushes. As the eagle was about to strike the quail, it suddenly reversed itself and was instead pursued by the quail, which, in doing so, left the safety of the bushes. While the quail was chasing the eagle, a second, more bolder, eagle swooped down upon it, seized it, and flew away carrying it in its talons. But it was now dusk.”
“What does it portent?”
“I believe the quail is Zozoltin, for that is the meaning of his name, and that the eagle represents the Mexica.”
“It’s a sign denoting the tactics we should use to defeat Zozoltin,” Ahuitzotl interjected. “Some of our forces will lure him from his city by feigning a retreat, and when he has exposed himself, our remaining forces will capture him. A familiar battle plan, not even that imaginative.”
“This means,” Tizoc said with some concern, “that Zozoltin will not surrender to us. The issue will be decided by arms after all.”
“So it would seem, Lord Tizoc. At first I thought the same thing, but…” the priest paused.
“But what, priest?”
“The interpretation is too simple, one might say deceptively simple. We must give it serious consideration if we are to know the true message so we are not misled. For instance, I am not convinced that the turn about by the eagle is intentional, as Lord Ahuitzotl deduces. Nor, for that matter, can it be said that the intervention of the second eagle is a planned maneuver. Also why is a full day spent in a flight that should be of short duration?”
“It appears clear enough,” Ahuitzotl pressed on, confident his was the correct explanation. “An entire day will be required to defeat Zozoltin. It is to be a hard fought contest it seems. I would not have expected this of the Tolucans.”
“This is distressing,” Tizoc soberly reflected. “If we offer additional supplications, would this alter the vision?”
“No, Lord. What I have seen will be. It cannot change.”
“Can the priest give us another account of this vision?” Nezahualpilli asked.
“I have related the vision faithfully as I saw it, Lord. What is made of it can apply to anyone. I can explain what the signs symbolize, but I’m not always able to grasp their significance.”
“Then of what use are you as a seer?” retorted Tizoc.
“All I can offer is that perhaps if I take more of the divine potions in the coming days, additional information will be given me by Tezcatlipoca—if he wishes me to have it.”
“Do that, priest,” Tizoc directed, “and if any other revelations come to you, let me know immediately.”
Try as he might, Tizoc was now unable to concentrate on the issues at hand, his mind preoccupied over his encounter with the prophetic priest; the more he dwelled on it, the greater became his consternation and he became physically unsettled. He determined what he needed was to retire to his private quarters where he might find some relief from his discomfort.
“I had planned to also discuss the Tlappan affair, but it can wait until a later council,” he announced. “This meeting is ended. I shall contact you when I wish to take up the subject.”
Ahuitzotl could not hide his disappointment. “Why require another recall when we are already here? Let us act on Tlappan.”
A hushed strain came over the assembly. Tizoc gave Ahuitzotl an angry glance prompting the commander into a hasty retraction. “Your pardon, Lord. I have erred.”
Tizoc did not respond. Instead he motioned for Cihuacoatl to terminate the session and departed with his escorts through the side door leading to his private chamber. This the minister dutifully accomplished and then also left, but several of the lords and officials remained to talk. With this group was Ahuitzotl and Nezahualpilli.
“You go too far, Ahuitzotl,” Nezahualpilli said. “You had no right to question Lord Tizoc’s prerogative.”
“I recognized it and did recant. Spare me your reprimand.”
“Yes, you recanted, but not before we all witnessed your insubordination. You deprecated Lord Tizoc. I can assure you this will not be regarded lightly.”
“What can he do? He would be lost without me to manage his campaigns, as you well know,” answered Ahuitzotl with a smugness that rankled Nezahualpilli. “You cross me often, Nezahualpilli, and one of these days it will be you who has gone too far. You and I may eventually come to a day of reckoning.”
“I do not fear it.”
“Perhaps you should. But let’s not quibble over this now. We have need of each other. Who will you sent to lead your Acolhuas?”
“I shall command them myself.”
“Splendid. I know I can rely on you. It should be a good fight, if we are fortunate enough to have it come to that. Until then, farewell, Nezahualpilli.”
“Farewell, Ahuitzotl. May the gods provide for you.”
“They will,” boasted Ahuitzotl as he walked away in the company of his trusted captain, Tlohtzin.
Nezahualpilli lingered awhile longer to deliberate over his potential adversary. In spite of the threats, he was not particularly upset; he felt that he understood the impetuous Ahuitzotl and could placate his volatile nature if he had to. He was actually quite fond of him and admired his demonstrated abilities in leadership and tactics, and, for whatever his faults, Ahuitzotl respected sound logic and learning. With these tools as weapons, Nezahualpilli had no need to fear him. No, he was not frightened by his words—what alarmed him was the commander’s open flaunting of the gods, his brazen flirting with their patience, the temptations, edging near contempt. He was playing a dangerous game with them, and in such contests, the gods would invariably emerge as the victors.
V
Ahuitzotl and Tlohtzin walked crossed the city’s main plaza passing by the stately Temple of Quetzalcoatl, unique in its roundness representing the whirling wind and surmounted by a conical spire. They were proceeding in the direction of a complex of buildings serving as