Kitabı oku: «The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec», sayfa 6
CHAPTER XII.
A SON OF THE HOUSE OF TITCALA
During the progress of this fierce and sanguinary battle Huetzin slept peacefully as a child, and not until after the return of the weary, but victorious, Spaniards to their camp did he wake. In the earlier hours of the day Marina, from the roof of the temple in which he lay, watched the progress of the fight with a fearful interest that was yet divided in its loyalty. She had cast her lot with these strangers, who had rescued her from slavery, and treated her with courtesy. But for the shelter of their camps she was homeless, and but for their strong arms she was without a protector in the world. And yet, those with whom they now fought were of her own race. The defeat of either side would fill her with sadness. Would that they might be friends rather than enemies! Then, indeed, would she rejoice! How might such a happy result be brought about? What could she do to further it?
In spite of these crowding thoughts, and in spite of the thrilling interest of the battle raging with varying fortunes below her, the girl was not so unmindful of her duty but that she descended several times to look after the welfare of her patients. On one of these occasions, though the young courier still slept, she found him muttering incoherently, and, to her amazement his words were spoken in the Mayan tongue.
When Huetzin awoke, greatly refreshed and possessed of all his faculties, he lay motionless for a while, bewildered by his surroundings and striving to account for the strange sights and sounds about him. Many other wounded men lay on the floor of the room in which he now found himself, and, ministering to their wants were a number of women. He could see that while the former were of a strange race, the women were of Anahuac. Strange weapons, such as he had never seen, were scattered on all sides, and he heard rough voices speaking in an unknown tongue. He had thought, or dreamed, that his sister Tiata was with him, but now he looked for her in vain, and heaved a deep sigh that it must have been a dream.
Suddenly he realized that the wounded men about him were white and bearded. It flashed into his mind that they must be of those whom his father had termed the "White Conquerors." Gradually the past came back to him. He remembered his own flight from Tenochtitlan, the courier, and his despatches telling of war between these strangers and the Tlascalans. He recalled his own determination, and his efforts to reach Tlascala in time to put an end to fighting before either side should be conquered. Then came a vision of terrible beings, armed with gleaming weapons, pursuing a crowd of fleeing natives through the streets of a Tlascalan village he had just entered. He recalled his dismay at sight of them, and his resolution in spite of it to intercede with their leader and beg him to stay the hands of his followers. After that all was blank.
Huetzin's head throbbed, and he raised his hand to it. He felt that he had been wounded; but how, or by whom, he knew not. Had he, too, been fighting? He tried to rise, but fell back, amazed and indignant at his own weakness. As though the movement had attracted attention, one of the women hastened to where he lay and knelt beside him. She was young and beautiful, even more so than Tiata he thought, as he gazed into her face. She spoke soothingly to him, and, to his surprise, her words were in the Mayan tongue, which was also that of the Toltecs, and had been taught him by his father. Then she left him, but soon returned bringing broth and wine, of which he drank eagerly.
He asked her, in the Mayan language, who she was, and where they were, receiving for answer that she was Marina, and that they were in the camp of the Christians, from whom he had naught to fear. Then, saying that he must talk no more but must again sleep, she left him, and when he slept he dreamed of one called Marina, who was beautiful, more beautiful even than Tiata.
When the young Toltec next awoke, another day had come, and his strength was so far recovered that he sat up, and felt that he might walk if he were allowed to try. As he sat gazing with eager curiosity upon those about him, Marina came again, bringing him food, of which he ate heartily, but still forbidding him to rise. Then they talked together, and he told her, unreservedly, who he was, of his father's brave death in Tenochtitlan, of his own escape from a like fate, and why he had come to Tlascala.
Marina was amazed, and yet rejoiced, at what she heard. It seemed to her that through the influence of this stranger her own cherished hope of an alliance between Tlascala and the Spaniards might be brought about. Filled with this thought the girl spoke little of herself, but told him of what had taken place since the arrival of the conquerors in the republic, of the terrible battles already fought and her fears that more were to follow. Then she begged him to think of some way by which the fighting might be ended and peace declared.
While they talked a young man entered the place, and came directly to where they were. At sight of him Marina told Huetzin that it was he who had saved him from death and brought him to this place. Thereupon the young Toltec seized the other's hand and kissed it, and said many grateful things that were not understood. Then Marina, speaking in Spanish, of which by this time she had acquired a fair command, told Sandoval the story of Huetzin's escape from the altars of Tenochtitlan in so vivid a manner that, when she finished, the listener crossed himself and uttered a pious ejaculation of amazement.
Nor was he less amazed when Huetzin excitedly sprang to his feet and asked if he too were a Toltec? If not, how came he to know and use the holy sign of the God of the Four Winds?
When the purport of this question was explained to Sandoval, he answered that he most certainly was not a Toltec, but was a Spaniard, and that the sign, just made by him was that of the cross, the sacred symbol of the Christian religion. Then, in turn, he bade Marina ask Huetzin whether he were a Christian, and, if not, how it came that he had made use of that same sign upon the occasion of their first meeting?
Without hesitation the other answered that while he knew not the meaning of the term Christian, he had made the sign of the cross, which was also the symbol of the god of his fathers, when he thought himself dying. He added that his warrior father had made the same sign as his last conscious act, and that, since it represented the religion of the white conquerors, both they and he must worship the same gods.
The translation of these words aroused the deepest interest in the mind of Sandoval, who recalled the ancient stone crosses that the Spaniards had seen and marvelled at in the land of the Mayas. After some reflection he bade Marina ask if the gods worshipped by Huetzin were not also those of the Aztecs? The young man replied, indignantly, that they were not, adding that the gods of his Toltec fathers abhorred the bloody rites and human sacrifices of the Aztec priesthood, and demanded only offerings of fruits, flowers, and on great occasions the blood of beasts. He also explained that as his father's life had been devoted to the overthrow of the cruel Aztec gods, so should his own be devoted.
When this was understood by Sandoval, his eyes sparkled with gladness, and, grasping Huetzin's hand, he exclaimed: "Now I know for what great purpose I was moved to save thy life! Henceforth shall we be as brothers! Thy quarrel shall be mine, and mine thine! When thou art recovered thy full strength I will arm thee as becomes a Christian, and teach thee to fight as a Christian. In token of this thou shalt hereafter be called 'Juan,' which was the name of my own brother, now dwelling with the saints in glory."
Although Huetzin failed at the time to comprehend these words, he read the sentiment expressed in the other's face, understood the meaning of the sturdy hand-grasp, and was filled with a great joy. This was the end of conversation for the present; and, at Marina's suggestion, Huetzin was again left to rest.
That night the Tlascalans made an attack on the Spanish camp; and when the defenders returned from repelling it Sandoval was greatly concerned to learn, from Marina, that his newly adopted brother had disappeared, leaving no trace of where he had gone. To her news the Indian maiden added, mysteriously, that she did not believe they had seen the last of him; but she could not be persuaded to name her reason for so thinking.
By these repeated attacks not only was the Spanish force constantly weakened, but many of its members were so disheartened that they became clamorous for Cortes to give over his hopeless attempt to reach the Aztec capital, and lead them back to the coast. If this petty mountain republic could offer such determined opposition to their progress, what might they not expect from the powerful nation whom they had yet to meet? was the question that even the undaunted leader found it difficult to answer. At the same time the camp was filled with rumors of the gathering, for their destruction, of another Tlascalan army, greater and more formidable than any they had yet encountered. Food was becoming scarce with them, for they had wasted the neighborhood with fire and sword, there was much sickness in camp, and even the White Conqueror himself was ill of a fever, aggravated by anxiety.
The affairs of the Spaniards stood thus for several days: but one morning, when gloom and despair had wellnigh reached their climax, the camp was gladdened by the approach of a small but imposing body of Tlascalan chiefs, wearing white badges, indicative of a peaceful errand. At their head walked a young man whose noble appearance and martial bearing attracted admiration even from the Spaniards. Over a cuirass of golden scales he wore a magnificent feather cloak, in which were harmoniously blended the most brilliant colors. Boots of tanned leather, ornamented with gold and jewels, reached to his thighs. On his head he wore a golden casque, decorated with the graceful plumes of a white heron. This, and the colors of his cloak, designated him as belonging to the house of Titcala. His only weapon was a Spanish sword of the finest Toledo steel, which was recognized to be the one sent as a present by Cortes to the Tlascalans with his first embassy.
Proudly advancing between the curious but orderly ranks of Spanish soldiers, to where Cortes stood, surrounded by his captains, and with Marina near at hand to act as interpreter, the young man made respectful obeisance by touching the ground with his hand and raising it to his head. Then he said:
"My Lord Malinche (the native name for Cortes) I am commissioned by the Great Council of Tlascala to invite you, with your army, to become the honored guests of their city, and there discuss with them the terms of a solemn treaty of peace and alliance. Even now Xicoten, the war chief of all Tlascalan armies, follows me to pledge his friendship, and urge your acceptance of this invitation."
Then for a moment, forgetful of the dignity of his position, the young man turned to Sandoval, and lifting that sturdy soldier's hand to his lips, exclaimed: "My brother, to whom I owe my life, now will we indeed fight side by side!" to which the astonished captain replied, though in nowise comprehending the other's words:
"By the holy St. Jago! it is no other than Huetzin, my young Toltec, the captive of my bow and spear!"
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW PEACE WAS BROUGHT ABOUT
When Huetzin was left alone on the night of the Tlascalan attack, and knew, by the sounds from outside, that the entire Spanish garrison had gone to repel it, he conceived the idea of leaving the unguarded camp, making his way to that of Xicoten, and of endeavoring to persuade that impetuous war-chief to put an end to fighting. Although still weak, he felt that his will would carry him through the undertaking. Making his cautious way to the outer door of the temple, he was there confronted by Marina, who was just entering. Alarmed at the sight of a patient thus disobeying her command to rest quietly until he had recovered his strength, she at once ordered him back to his bed.
Smiling, but resolutely disregarding the stern command of this gentle mistress, Huetzin led her outside and there unfolded his plan. Marina replied that while it was a noble one, and met with her full approbation, he had not yet the strength to carry it out. Whereupon Huetzin suddenly threw his arms about her, lifted her lightly from the ground, kissed her full on the lips, and set her gently down again.
Springing to a safe distance, the girl, with burning cheeks and a well-assumed anger, abused him soundly for so shameful an act, and indignantly bade him be-gone, with the hope that she might never set eyes on him again. As he turned to obey her, she added that, if he ever dared to return, except as an ambassador of peace from Tlascala, she should certainly refuse to recognize him in any way. Then hurrying to the top of the temple, where, by the bright moonlight, she could discern something of what was taking place below, she prayed to the gods for the safety of the youth whom she had but now so bitterly denounced.
In the meantime Huetzin, filled with other thoughts than those of wounds or weakness, hurried down the hillside, on the opposite side from that on which the fighting was taking place, and, making a great circuit, gained the camp of the Tlascalans, who had just returned, filled with sullen rage, from the scene of their fourth defeat. Here he found it impossible to pass the guards, who, to his plea that he bore a most important communication for their general, replied that the latter would see no one that night.
Thus it was not until late on the following day that Huetzin gained audience of his haughty cousin, who, smarting under his reverses, was in much the temper of a caged lion recently deprived of its liberty. Although he recognized the son of Tlahuicol he refused to admit that he did so. When the latter ventured to speak of the mission on which he had come, the irate war-chief broke forth in a tirade of abuse, not only against the Spaniards, who, he declared, he would yet sweep from the face of the earth, but against all Tlascalan traitors, who, if they had escaped the sacrifice they so well deserved, should no longer escape from the just wrath of their patriot countrymen. Then, calling in the officer of his guard, Xicoten commanded that the young rebel, as he designated Huetzin, be seized, conveyed to the city, and thrown into the deepest dungeon of the temple.
As resistance to this cruel mandate would have been worse than useless, Huetzin suffered himself to be led quietly away by a file of soldiers, and, on the following morning, was taken to the city of Tlascala. Here, as he was hurried through the narrow streets, seeking in vain for a friendly face among the multitudes who thronged them, his heart was filled with such bitterness that he almost regretted not having turned traitor to his country and remained to share the fortune or fate of the white conquerors.
While he was thus sorrowfully reflecting, and walking mechanically between his stolid guards, there came an obstruction in the street that compelled them to halt. Looking up Huetzin caught sight of that which caused his heart to beat with a new hope. A silver-haired old man, evidently blind, was being borne past in a splendidly appointed litter. Above it waved a panache of heron's plumes, and its bearers wore the yellow and white livery of the house of Titcala. It was his own grandfather, the aged chieftain of Titcala, on his way to a meeting of the Great Council of the republic.
Freeing himself from his guards with a sudden movement, the young man sprang to the side of the litter, crying:
"My lord! oh, my lord! I am Huetzin, son of Tlahuicol, and of thy daughter! I am, moreover, in sore distress! Extend to me thy protection, I pray thee!"
Thus suddenly aroused from a deep reverie, the old man at first failed to comprehend what was said or who was speaking; but, on a repetition of the words, he commanded Huetzin to approach that he might identify him. This he did by slowly passing his sensitive fingers over the young man's face, as he had been used to do in former years. Finally he exclaimed, in trembling tones:
"It is indeed Huetzin, son of my son, and blood of my blood! But how camest thou here? Did I not hear that thou wert dead? They told me that thou, and thy noble father, mine own sweet child, and the little Tiata, had all been sacrificed on the bloody altars of Huitzil. How is it? Do Tlahuicol and his still live?"
"No, my lord," answered Huetzin. "Both my brave father and my beautiful mother have departed to the realms of the sun. As for Tiata I know not if she still lives. I myself have thrice escaped; once from the altars of Tenochtitlan, once from the camp of the white conquerors, and even now from the soldiers of Xicoten, who would lead me to a Tlascalan dungeon. But my story will keep for a later telling. First, I must deliver the last message of Tlahuicol, which is of vital importance to the republic for which he gave his life. Is there no place other than this street where I may entrust it to thy ears?"
"If it concerns the republic," answered the aged chieftain, "then it is for the senate, who even now await my presence. Come thou with me, and deliver it directly to those who must judge of its importance."
In that city the will of its most honored councillor was supreme, and not even the soldiers of Xicoten dared dispute it. Therefore Huetzin's guard allowed him to accompany his aged grandfather to the senate chamber, making respectful way for them to pass, but following closely behind in readiness to prevent any further escape of their prisoner.
The councillors of the republic, assembled to discuss the momentous question of war or peace with the terrible white conquerors, whose coming had shaken the nation to its foundations, rose and stood with bowed heads as their aged president appeared and was led to the seat of honor. As he passed them, they gazed with surprise at the meanly clad youth who walked beside him with a bearing as proud as that of any prince, and marvelled as to who he might be.
When the lord of Titcala faced them with his sightless eyes, and announced that this same youth was his grandson, the son of Tlahuicol, and that he had but now escaped from Tenochtitlan, bringing them a message from his dead father, a murmur of recognition and amazement swept over the assembly.
Then Huetzin, standing before them in his robe of tattered and blood-stained nequen, told, in the simple language with which oratory is made most effective, his story of the past year. He told of Tlahuicol's unswerving loyalty to his adopted country, despite the splendid offers of Montezuma to desert her and enter his service. He repeated his father's last words in a voice that trembled with emotion, and described with thrilling effect the final battle of the great Tlascalan war-chief. He told of his own escape, through the direct interposition of the gods, from the very knife of sacrifice, and of his experience in the camp of the white conquerors. He described his leaving it and his reception by Xicoten. Finally, he concluded with so strong an argument in favor of a Tlascalan alliance with the powerful strangers, against the hated Aztec, that none who heard him could resist his eloquence; and, when he finished, he was greeted with such a storm of applause as had never before swept over that solemn chamber.
As Huetzin stepped back to his grandfather's side the aged chieftain embraced and blessed him, while tears streamed from his sightless eyes. Then, declaring that his vote should, now and always, be for an alliance with the Spaniards, and begging to be excused from the deliberations of that day, the lord of Titcala retired, taking Huetzin with him, to his own palace. Here the young man was bathed in perfumed waters and clad as became his rank, and here he rested, recovering his strength, during all of that day. In the meantime the news of his return had spread through the city, and was received with such joy that, the next morning, when he appeared in the streets, on his way to the senate chamber, to which he had been summoned, he was greeted with universal enthusiasm.
By the councillors of the republic the dignity of the command of a division of the Tlascalan army was conferred upon the young warrior; also, in consideration of the life services of his father, he was presented with the most valuable weapon in all Tlascala, the sword of Toledo steel that Cortes had sent as a gift to the republic. Last and best of all, the newly made chieftain was commissioned to proceed at once to the camp of the white conquerors, and invite them, in the name of the republic, to visit the capital city, there to settle upon the terms of an everlasting peace and alliance.
Thus was Huetzin's cup of happiness filled to overflowing. There was but one drop of bitterness mingled with it. He was instructed to visit his cousin, Xicoten, on his way to the Christian camp, convey to that arrogant general the command of the senate that there must be no more fighting, and invite him, as the war-chief, to head, in person, the embassy to Cortes.
So the son of Tlahuicol, who had entered his native city a despised prisoner, clad in rags, left it, the next day, an honored chieftain, robed with the gorgeousness of his rank, and heading the most important embassy the New World had ever seen.
When he reached Xicoten's camp that hot-headed warrior, while not daring to openly oppose the messenger of the senate, yet managed to delay him for a whole day, while he secretly despatched spies to discover the condition of the Spaniards. If their report should prove favorable he was resolved on another attack, with the splendid army he had gathered, in spite of all the senators in Tlascala. Had this attack been made, the Spaniards, weakened by their previous losses, would undoubtedly have been destroyed, and all history would have been changed.
As it was, Cortes detected the spies, cut off their thumbs, and sent them back to their master with the message, that while the Christians never slept, and were ready for him at all times, they were also weary of waiting. Therefore, if he had not tendered his submission inside of twenty-four hours, they would desolate the land of Tlascala with fire and sword, until no living thing remained within its borders.
Thus was Xicoten's proud spirit humbled, and though he preferred to follow, rather than to accompany, Huetzin on his mission, the latter was no longer hindered from carrying it into effect.
