FEATHERED SERPENT, page 16
Young Ring of the Wasp began to protest but his father put up a hand to silence him. ‘You have had your chance, my son. We have made war, without effect. Now we must sue for peace.’
They are shabby, compared to the Mexica, Malinali thought. Some of their robes must have been stolen from the bodies of their enemies, they still had bloodstains on them. The rest of them wore poor mantles of maguey fiber.
She stood behind Cortés’ chair as he received them, ready to offer her translations from the elegant speech. There were perhaps as many as fifty in the delegation, and judging by their feathers and jewels they were all senators of the Texcála republic. Their leader was as tall as a Spaniard, his skin spotted by disease. He said his name was Young Ring of the Wasp, son of the Texcála chieftain.
‘We have come to ask your lord for forgiveness,’ he began, his face a sullen mask. ‘At first, we thought he had been sent to invade us by our great enemy, Montezuma. We thought this because you were accompanied by their vassals, the Totonacs. Now we see that we were wrong.’ He seemed to choke on the last word.
She relayed his sentiments to her lord. If he was relieved to hear this news, he did not show it. ‘Tell them they only have themselves to blame for this war,’ he said to her. ‘I came here in friendship and they attacked me and caused much disruption. Now my officers want to burn their town and I do not know if I can keep them from it.’
A churlish and astonishing reply. Burn their town? His soldiers had barely the strength left to light their cook fires at night.
But this answer had the desired effect. Young Ring of the Wasp became even more conciliatory. ‘Please remind your lord that he entered Texcála without our consent. We would be less than men if we had not fought to defend ourselves. However, we regret this misunderstanding and our Council of Four offer him their friendship if he will make an alliance with us.’
But Feathered Serpent was yet sulky when she told him this. ‘I see no reason to forget past injuries,’ he said, and his fingers drummed impatiently on the arm of his throne.
‘So what should I tell him, my lord?’
‘Tell him that my terms for peace are these: that he must submit to me immediately and offer his allegiance to His Majesty, King Charles of Spain. If he refuses, I shall come to Texcála, burn it to the ground and make all the people there my slaves.’
She took a moment to compose her thoughts. ‘Feathered Serpent says that you must agree to obey him, in everything he says, or he will come to Texcála and punish you all.’
Young Ring of the Wasp sighed. ‘Are they really gods?’ he said to her.
‘What does he say?’
She leaned towards Feathered Serpent so that no one else could hear, though Aguilar almost broke his neck trying to eavesdrop. ‘He asked if you are truly a god, my lord,’ she whispered.
‘Tell him I am a man, as he is, but I serve the one and only true God.’
Malinali hesitated. If she told Young Ring of the Wasp that he was not a god, they would want to fight again, and this time they would surely win.
She turned back to the young Texcálan nobleman and gave him the only answer that made any sense. ‘He is just a man, but he has a god inside him. That is why he cannot be defeated in battle.’
She felt Aguilar’s eyes burning a hole in her back. Why was Feathered Serpent so determined to hide the truth?
35.
A silver river snaked across the valley below. White stone buildings clung to the hillsides, well-tended gardens clustered about the high walls. It seemed to Malinali that Texcála was even more beautiful than Cempoalan.
The entire population came out to welcome them. The day before they were their bitter enemies, now they crowded the streets and roofs, throwing flowers, and beating drums in welcome instead of war.
They entered Texcála on the first day of the month known as Return of the Gods.
Lord Ring of the Wasp waited in the plaza to greet them, seated on a palanquin, a long train of lords and servants behind him. He was very old, his face so nut-brown and wrinkled that he looked like a small monkey. Gold ornaments and bolts of cloth were spread on mats in front of his litter. Not a great treasure, but an offering, of sorts.
Lord Ring of the Wasp was helped to his feet by his attendants and made a short speech. Feathered Serpent got down from his horse. He turned to Malinali for translation.
‘He welcomes you to Texcála and offers you these poor gifts in tribute,’ she said, indicating the gold and the cloth. ‘He says he would like to offer you much more but Montezuma keeps him besieged here in the mountains and so his people are very poor.’
Today her lord was smiling and radiant, the gentle god of old. Perhaps it was just the fever that had made him act so cruelly to the Texcálan warrior. He had not been himself.
‘Tell Lord Ring of the Wasp that I value his friendship more than I value all the gold in the whole world. Tell him also that he shall suffer under the yoke of the Mexica no longer, for I have been sent by a great Lord to free men from the tyrannies of kings.’
She relayed his words in the elegant tongue and translated Lord Ring of the Wasp’s answer: ‘He thanks you for your kind words. He wishes very soon to confirm this alliance by offering you and your officers some of their women in marriage. But for now he wishes to touch your face.’
‘My face?’
‘He is blind, my lord. He wishes to see you.’
Feathered Serpent looked surprised but he gave his assent, standing rigid while the old chief ran his gnarled fingers across his lips and eyes and beard.
‘Quetzalcóatl,’ Lord Ring of the Wasp said.
‘What was that?’
Malinali smiled. ‘He spoke the name of one of our gods, my lord.’
‘Which one?’
‘Feathered Serpent.’
For a moment she saw a look of fear pass across his face. It was the first time she had seen him look afraid of anything. But then it was gone.
‘Good,’ he said.
That night, Aguilar sought her out.
‘I need to talk with you,’ he said, falling into step beside her. She could smell him, fervent and rank. She walked faster, trying to outpace him. ‘Cortés does not make me privy to his deliberations any longer,’ he said.
‘That is not my concern,’ Malinali said.
‘I fear for him. He is a good man but there are some things he does not understand.’
‘What things?’
‘He doesn’t seem to know that you do not translate his words exactly to these lords and chieftains. You should take care, you are playing a dangerous game.’
She stopped and wheeled around. ‘I would do nothing to harm him. Ever.’
‘Then be careful what you say. You will destroy him.’
‘He cannot be destroyed. Not by me, and certainly not by you.’
‘You are wrong. He is just a man and any man may be destroyed. Any man.’
‘He is not just any man,’ she said and walked away.
Tenochtitlàn
Montezuma sat huddled on a low wooden throne, a fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Woman Snake lay prostrate on the floor in front of him.
The Emperor contemplated the latest news. The Spaniards had defeated the Texcálans and forced them to surrender, something his own armies had never been able to do. How could a few hundred men defeat an army of tens of thousands? How was such a thing even possible?
It was not possible, of course, unless these thunder lords were led by a god. Unless this Lord Malinche was the Feathered Serpent.
If he was an ordinary god, then he could be propitiated. But Feathered Serpent was not an ordinary god. When Montezuma's ancestors had reached this valley many bundles of years before, they brought with them their two great war gods, Huitzilopochtli, Hummingbird of the Left, and Smoking Mirror. Both were bitter enemies of Feathered Serpent. It was Smoking Mirror himself who had plotted Feathered Serpent's expulsion from his ancient city of Tollan.
How could they mollify him without angering their own gods and protectors?
What if his people were about to be caught in a direct confrontation between the three gods? A clash of these titans would either destroy the sun or bring an end to the wind and rain. Whoever won, it would mean the destruction of the Mexica. Only he, Montezuma, could prevent this cataclysm.
Somehow, he had always sensed it would come to this. When he had first taken the throne, he had built a shrine to Feathered Serpent in the court of the Great Temple in the hope of allaying this very moment.
What could he do?
Texcála
A prince's ransom in gold and silver and precious stones lay on the floor at his feet. Cortés tried not to look impressed.
‘They wish to congratulate you on your victory over the Texcálans,’ Malinali said.
‘Thank them for their kind words. But tell them it was all a misunderstanding. Insist that I have not come to make war on anyone, I have come here in peace.’
The Mexica had sent yet another deputation, and even more gifts. Their ambassador had thick jades and opals on his fingers, even more jade through his ears and lower lip. On his head was a great fan of quetzal feathers that gave him the look of a strutting peacock.
‘He says you should not trust the Texcálans,’ Malinali said, ‘for they are a perfidious and unworthy people and he is greatly concerned that we may all be murdered in our beds.’
Cortés smiled. How sweetly we talk to one another! ‘Thank him again for his concern on my behalf. But tell him that if the Texcálans should think of dealing treacherously with me in any way I would know of it in advance because I can read men's minds.’
Another rapid exchange. Malinali seemed surprised at what the Mexican ambassador had to say and appeared to verify it.
‘What is it?’ Cortés asked her.
‘He says that the Revered Speaker of the Mexica, the great Montezuma, would like to offer you annual tribute to demonstrate his friendship. You yourself may set the amount in gold, silver, jade and cloth, payable each year. But Montezuma insists that it is too dangerous for you to travel further towards his capital since there are many treacherous republics like Texcála between here and Tenochtitlàn. He therefore asks that once you collect your tribute you return to the Cloud Lands in the east.’
He is afraid of me! Cortés thought. He is afraid of me and it must be because he, too, thinks I am this mysterious Feathered Serpent! First, he sends his ambassadors to plead with me, now he offers me rich bribes to leave his lands as if I were the commander of great armies and he the captain of a few hundred men! Above the Totonacs and the Texcálans there is one formidable ally here that I have so far overlooked.
Religion.
These natives really believe that men can become gods! It is a blasphemous notion, but one that will serve me well for the present.
‘Malinali, ask him to convey to the great lord Montezuma my most devout friendship. Tell him I would dearly wish to accede to his lord's wishes, but I must convey my words to Montezuma in person. I cannot turn back without disobeying my own king.’
There was another long exchange. I wonder what she is saying to him, Cortés wondered, how much she embellishes? Well, let her do as she must. As long as not a word of heresy or sedition comes from my own lips.
‘What is his reply?’ he said.
‘He says that if you must approach, then he asks that you travel by way of Cholula for there you can be certain of a welcome befitting a great lord. He is even willing to act as your guide.’
‘Thank him most kindly for me. Tell him he will have his reply in due course.’
The Mexican ambassador and his retinue bowed and left. Cortés stared after them, lost to his own thoughts.
36.
The beat of drums, the whistle of flutes, the tantalizing odors of warm food and spices. Heaped dishes of maize cakes, roasted rabbit and beans with chili were placed on the mats in front of them. Acrobats cart-wheeled across the floor of the great hall and dwarves tumbled and danced.
Lord Ring of the Wasp whispered something to Malinali.
Cortés had eaten very little, his eyes darting everywhere. He saw this exchange and wanted to know what the old chief had said.
‘He says you should not go to Cholula,’ Malinali told him.
‘The Mexica have assured us of a hospitable welcome.’
She conferred briefly with the Texcálan chief in Nahuatl then turned back to Cortés. ‘He says he would trust a rattlesnake not to bite him before he trusted a Mexica's hospitality. If you go to Tenochtitlàn you must go by way of Huexotzinco.’
Suddenly everyone is concerned for our welfare, Cortés thought. How things have changed in the past few days. ‘I will have to think on this.’
‘Of course you will think on it,’ Malinali said, ‘but then you must go to Cholula.’
Alvarado and Benítez overheard the conversation and they both stared at her in stunned silence. ‘Damn your eyes,’ Alvarado muttered, ‘you cannot speak to our captain-general in such a manner.’
Cortés smiled. ‘But she is right. I do have to go to Cholula.’
‘But why?’ Benítez said.
Cortés did not answer. Because they think I am the incarnation of one of their gods, he thought, and Cholula is his seat. I have to persist with this sleight of hand at least a little longer.
But I can’t tell any of you that.
‘Lord Ring of the Wasp wants to cement the alliance we have made with him,’ Malinali said to Cortés. ‘He offers women for all your captains.’ She hesitated. ‘He would like you to have his daughter.’
Lord Ring of the Wasp indicated the five women sitting demurely on the other side of the hall. They wore beautifully decorated tunics and fine pieces of jade had been worked into their hair.
‘They are all from families of important Texcálan lords. The one Lord Ring of the Wasp claims as his own daughter is the one on the right. Actually she is his grandchild. He is being vain.’
Cortés studied the women critically. ‘What do you think, Malinali?’
‘My lord?’
‘Should I accept his kind offer? Should I bed his granddaughter?’
He saw a flicker of pain on that inscrutable face. She bit her lip.
‘Tell him it is a most gracious offer and I thank him for it. But I cannot accept his daughter, although she is indeed quite lovely, because I am already married and my religion permits me just one wife.’
He felt her stillness. Several moments went by before she relayed what he had said to Lord Ring of the Wasp.
‘Please inform him however that my other captains would be greatly honored to accept these beautiful ladies into their households after they have been baptized into the Christian faith. Remind him also that he is an old man and must soon think about death. And because he is my friend, I would like him and his fellow chiefs to also take the sacrament and renounce their old gods, so their souls might find peace in heaven.’
Cortés listened to her stammer through her translation, with many pauses. When she had finished, Lord Ring of the Wasp's toothless grin was gone.
‘He answers you this way,’ Malinali said. ‘He is very happy for these women to be sprinkled with water if that will make you content. But for himself, he could not renounce his gods even at the forfeit of his own life. Should he do so, there would be an insurrection among the people.’
Why were these people so stubborn? Cortés wondered. He thought Fray Olmedo and Fray Díaz had explained this matter thoroughly to the natives, so that they should see their errors. ‘If he becomes a Christian, he will find eternal happiness in heaven. But if he dies without the sacrament he will be thrown into the infernal pit and roast forever in agony. He must also renounce these blood sacrifices...’
Fray Olmedo leaned forward and put a hand on Cortés’ shoulder. ‘My lord perhaps now is not the time. We should be gentler in our approach.’
‘Am I to be prevented from spreading the word of Christ by a priest? Which of us is the man of God?’
‘I only wish that you moderate your remarks.’
‘Why do you seek to hold me back?’
‘I believe it is better we bring God to these people slowly than rush at this and by doing so, lose all the ground we have gained.’
Alvarado leaned forward. ‘He is right. To force our hand when we have only just found peace with these people would be a mistake.’
These men were such cowards, Cortés thought. On a subject as important as salvation, what did it matter if men came to the truth willingly or at the point of a sword? But if his churchmen would not stand with him on this, there was nothing he could do. He turned back to Malinali. ‘Tell Lord Ring of the Wasp we shall be happy to take his brides. We will talk more on matters of religion at some future time.’
Benítez, seated just a few feet from Cortés, had been holding his breath, sensing a disastrous confrontation. Now he let it go in a long sigh. Even Fray Olmedo was trembling. They had won so much. He thought Cortés had been about to throw it all away.
He still might.
As a concession to his new friends, Lord Ring of the Wasp allowed Cortés to convert one of the city's temples into a Christian shrine and it was here that the five young Texcálan princesses were baptized in a special ceremony before being given to Cortés’ captains as concubines.
Lord Ring of the Wasp's granddaughter was christened Doña Luisa and given to Alvarado. Cortés had softened his rejection of her by telling the old chief that the red-haired giant was his brother. Cortés chose Sandoval, Jaramillo and Olid to receive the other women. The most beautiful of them all was given to León and re-christened Doña Elvira.
