The stern admonishment momentarily quieted Ahuitzotl, but his eyes glared with an intensity belying his affected composure. “Excuse this pain and anger I feel,” he said. “My reaction to the disappointment that overwhelms me whenever I reflect on the council’s decision.”
“Accept it, Lord! If you do not, it will poison your mind. Rulers are appointed for life and Lord Tizoc is a young man—you will suffer a lengthy torment if you continue moping over it.”
“It was an injustice to me. I will never forgive the council for that.”
“An injustice!” Cihuacoatl roared out.
“Yes, an injustice! It was I who led the army and won us honors. For this Axayacatl himself granted me command of our Eagle Knights. Where was Tizoc then? At the school in Calixtlahuaca to study the arts of statecraft. I ask you, did his education save us from the Huaxtecs? Or from the Mixtecs? I have repeatedly rescued him from certain defeat—whatever respect remains for Mexica arms is due to me.”
“Enough! Nobody disputes your ability in the conduct of wars, Lord Ahuitzotl, but there is more to running our nation than waging war. It might have done you some good to spend more time at Calixtlahuaca.”
“I have learned what I need to know—mainly how to properly serve Huitzilopochtli, our Sustainer. Am I not his high priest?”
Cihuacoatl was not impressed. “A perfunctory duty bestowed by a royal assignment for you. Huitzilopochtli does not rule over us alone. What of Tezcatlipoca? And of Tlaloc, or Quetzalcoatl? What do the sacred rites of Tlaltecuhtli signify? How would you propitiate these gods? If you cannot tell me, then ask your brother. He would know.”
Ahuitzotl remained silent, embarrassed over having his deficiency in these matters stated.
“Hear me, Royal Prince,” continued Cihuacoatl. “You are a headstrong and ambitious man, and that is a dangerous combination. Men whose actions are guided by, and directed towards, their own preceived interests place these above the common good and rarely attend to the duties of their office. They measure success by their own gratification than by what is beneficial—doing what is preferred to what is required. Did you expect we would imperil our lives by having such a man alienate the gods through impiety or ignorance? You are blinded by your conceit. In praising your accomplishments, to an exaggerated degree I might add, you diminish those of your brother, and are unable to see his worthiness. But I have said enough—it’s unlikely you will heed my advice. Be grateful I remain silent on what I’ve heard.”
Ahuitzotl paused as he digested the minister’s words. “You misjudge me,” he then said, “but I am thankful for your prudence. Yet note what I say. My time for greatness will come—of this I am certain!—and I shall outdo them all. Whatever my forefathers have done, I will do more. This I swear before all the gods! Tizoc may build his temple, but my glory will some day eclipse his. I shall surpass them all!”
Such determination could hardly be dismissed by Cihuacoatl, but upon further deliberation, he brushed aside his first intuition, recognizing these things are simpler said than done. Ahuitzotl was not the Revered Speaker. Still, an uneasiness remained with him, and he knew that he must now ponder over what possibilities the sheer strength of will can bring to fortune.
“Perhaps—if the gods will it,” Cihuacoatl whispered, turning to make his departure.
Ahuitzotl’s gaze remained fixed on the minister as he crossed the plaza for the temple complex. Could the Woman Snake be trusted? What was his true standing with Tizoc? There were some in the court who held that Cihuacoatl was highly displeased with his appointment of Tizoc to the kingship, even admitting to an error in judgment. But such talk was speculative. It may have been a dangerous miscalculation to speak ill of the monarch.
Ahuitzotl turned his eyes back on the temple and scanned over the sight of sweating bodies laboring upon the ramps and scaffolding. The surge of indignation he felt was overpowering, gnawing at him for seemingly the longest time, until, at last, he was compelled to look away. Beyond the hubbub of activity he saw dark clouds descending on the distant peaks of Iztaccihuatl and Popocatepetl as if congruent with the mood projected by the one thought that dominated him—I shall surpass them all!
II
At the school in Calixtlahuaca, two of the head priests, who also performed as the principal instructors, discussed the future of one of their more noteworthy students.
“Have you told him yet?”
“I am to meet with him shortly. I shall break the news to him then.”
“I suspect he knows.”
“Perhaps. Word from the court has a way of reaching the ears of those not meant to hear it.”
“Will he be ready to accept the change in store for him?”
“It does not matter. The Revered Speaker has decided that he is. To be fair, Motecuhzoma has excelled in all his courses here, and although I would personally have him spend another year with us, there are other, shall we say more sinister, aspects of statesmanship to be learned that cannot be taught here. He is brilliant—with a gift for leadership. Such men are rare; it is proper that his further education be acquired in the courts.”
“Even so, it’s regrettable we could not keep such a talent for service to Huitzilopochtli. There’s something disagreeable about only the second best being priests.
“Huitzilopochtli can be better served by the most brilliant becoming the rulers.”
“So you say. But if it is the gods who confer their blessings on the realm, what can be more important than devoting one’s life to them?”
“Even as priests, there are practical realities to be faced. We know how to appease the gods while the strength of the realm protects our institutions from those who would not have us—and there are many of them. As long as we have rulers who fear the gods, we shall be able to continue serving them.”
“That makes sense.”
“The nobility throughout our domain brings its future rulers, judges, administrators, and priests to this school. What is essential is that we assure these students leave here with a proper regard for our gods. By doing so, we provide for them, as well as ourselves.”
With that, they parted. The taller priest, attired in the black robe denoting his order, proceeded to his study and sat down to reflect over the many reports he had received on his expected visitor.
His was an impressive record. In all the courses taught at the school, Motecuhzoma excelled. These included the details and functions of government, administration, justice, history, the interpretation of glyphs, astronomy, architecture and engineering, agriculture, genealogies, hunting, and the skills of warfare. His devotion to the religious studies entailing both instruction and temple service, an apprenticeship to priesthood, was flawless. He had mastered reading the calendar, determining and fixing the time of feasts, and performing the required rituals and incantations. He was taught how to interpret dreams, astrology, verses of divine songs, and the counting of the years. His ratings were of the highest category; never had there been a more exemplary record on anyone who resided here.
His full name was Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin. He was the son of Axayacatl and great grandson of the revered Motecuhzoma Ilhuicamina, a prince of the Royal House of Tenochtitlan. There was little doubt that this student was destined to take his place among the ruling elites. No person of such lineage and such extraordinary achievement could fail to leave his stamp among the chroniclers of Anahuac. The priest knew he must exercise prudence with this progeny, one who could be an ally of significant importance in years to come.
A rapping on the door announced to the priest that his guest had arrived and awaited permission to enter. This the priest immediately granted and he watched while the tall, lanky youngster briskly walked to the center of the room and stopped when squarely ahead of him. He studied his subject at length, as if groping for a sign of flaw in this seemingly paragon of Mexica manhood, and then began.
“You