“They know I say it in jest. You haven’t told me if I would make a good empress.”
“Must you persist? How should I know?”
“Well, I think I would. There is a seductiveness in ordering the ladies of the court around, in being attended at my bath, in having all my cares and desires provided for. Yes, I would take a fancy to that.”
“You do persist.”
“Really, Ahuitzotl, I only pretend. There’s no harm in it. I well know my wishes are but dreams. You’re the one who is too serious about it.”
“Perhaps, but if so, it’s because your pretensions closely mirror certain realities I grapple with daily. For this reason, I’m probably oversensitive about it.”
“What realities?”
“Nothing. Forget what I said.”
Pelaxilla was taken aback by the abrupt manner in which he cut her off; yet his defensiveness fueled her curiosity—she had obviously struck a raw nerve. “As you say, Ahuitzotl,” she continued. “Apparently what I consider merely frivolous has some serious overtones for you, but I have no desire to pry into your personal affairs.”
“Then don’t!”
“You don’t have to get irritable about it,” Pelaxilla reacted critically. “If I offended you, I apologize for it.”
“These things you talk about, what you wish for and pretend to be, make me uncomfortable, not only because your are at risk for saying it, but because I am guilty of having similar damaging ideas. But there’s a big difference between us—to you, it’s merely playing,”
Tlalalca was right, Pelaxilla thought in her amazement. The implication was clear, even if Ahuitzotl had not come right out and actually said it. She was convinced that whatever was going on, he was a crucial element in it.
“It isn’t to you?” she pressed on.
“I’ll speak no more on the subject. Stop your prying.”
“Very well,” Pelaxilla said. “At least I learned what some court ladies say about you is true, and I appreciate that.”
“What do they say?”
“That you are ambitious and will go to great lengths to get what you want. Some say you are vain and seek the adulation of others.”
“And you like that.”
“Yes I do. I prefer someone who professes high-minded goals to one who is content to let things be as they are. There is a drive in such men—something very stimulating to me. I find myself attracted by the aura of excitement that surrounds them.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“See what you can discover when you open yourself to someone? You should tell me more about yourself—it may surprise you what I think.”
“Perhaps.”
“Will you tell me what your plans are?”
“There are no plans, Pelaxilla,” he sharply reproved her. “Let the matter rest.”
She had to be careful, Pelaxilla thought, so as not to draw erroneous conclusions about what he imparted in the course of their conversation. All she really knew was that Ahuitzotl admitted to having thoughts suggesting a possible desire for the crown, and even this was vague. She knew nothing in terms of details—certainly nothing concrete to relate to Tlalalca. Clearly he had no intentions of revealing any more about this and she decided not to press him further. In time, she would discover more.
As for Ahuitzotl, he thought their entire exchange perplexing and was trying to reconstruct the topics discussed which led up to what he deemed a careless disclosure on his part. He had never previously heard Pelaxilla speak about political subjects—he was unaware that she even possessed an interest in these. It was unusual, although not unknown, for women to express a proclivity towards such matters. Nezahualpilli had his famed Lady of Tula, one of his many mistresses renowned for her wisdom, who advised him regularly on political and judicial issues, but she was a rarity and, in general, women did not involve themselves over what was regarded as a predominantly male domain. It could be that Pelaxilla was also an exception, but Ahuitzotl remained skeptical about this as it had never come to light before; he concluded that he needed to exercise greater caution over what he related to her.
X
Warriors by the hundreds were entering Tenochtitlan daily as the deadline given Zozoltin was nearing. They came in under colorful standards designating their units and dressed in full battle gear, wearing the ichcahuilpilli, a tunic of thick reinforced cotton fibers serving as body armor, and helmets made of wood, reed, bone, and animal hides molded into shapes resembling the fearsome appearances of jaguars, eagles, and snakes. Many wore plumed headdresses of various bird feathers with distinctive designs and hues identifying their clans. Each day their numbers increased so that they soon crowded the facilities available to them in the capital.
They carried an assortment of weapons depending on the posts assigned them in battle. The principal combatants held the tepuztopilli, a lance six to ten feet in length with a sharp obsidian head ornamented by feathers, with a maquauhuitl slung over their shoulders or attached with thongs to their waistbelts. This club, an arm’s length with honed stone blades embedded along its edges, was the primary armament used in closed combat and could be wielded with lethal efficiency. Their shields, of wood, cane, and animal hide, were trimmed with tassels or feathers and painted with group insignia and clan emblems. There were slingers and archers, more lightly clad than their infantry counterparts, and also spearthrowers armed with the atlatl, a short wooden staff holding a groove and projecting peg into which was inserted a dart about half the length of a lance. With such armaments, the Mexica carved their way to supremacy.
In addition to the warriors came a multitude of priests. These were also impressively attired in magnificent plumages, ornaments, long cloaks or robes marked with sacred symbols denoting their particular order. Their importance could not be underestimated, for through their oblations were gods disposed to influence the outcome of a struggle, and they always accompanied the armies to war, usually a day’s march ahead of the main body, carrying the idols of their dieties on their backs or in litters. They required no escort and advanced by themselves—no mortal would have dared to touch them out of fear of incurring the wrath of the divinities they served.
Now in the final week of the tenth month, the eleventh month, Ochpaniztli, was rapidly approaching and nowhere was its arrival more eagerly anticipated than in the headquarters complex where Ahuitzotl and Tlohtzin reviewed the situation with considerable puzzlement.
“Dispatches are coming to us twice a day now,” Ahuitzotl commented, “and still there is no movement afoot in Toluca. They’ve made no attempts to secure allies. It’s as though they regarded this impending war as completely trivial—no threat whatsoever.”
“That suggests they mean to surrender to us,” Tlohtzin answered.
“There are no indications of that either. His people say nothing.”
“That is baffling. Perhaps they are unaware of the looming crisis.”
“It would be difficult to conceal. The restrictions imposed by our advance parties should have alerted them to us and prompted them to press their leaders for an explanation. No, they fully know what’s going on. It seems Tecolotl was correct when he told us Zozoltin has a consensus in his defiance. Imagine that—a show of courage from the Matlazinca.”
“All the better I say. We shall have our battle and punish them accordingly for it.”
“We owe it to ourselves. They are adding to their insolence by demonstrating, through their complacency, that they need not fear us or heed our warnings. Such an insult cannot be ignored.”
“Clearly. What preparations are they making for our expected battle?”
“The