Not until the two young men passed beneath those heavy curtains did
either one of the Sun Children really give thought to their own possible
peril, but stood close together, arm of mother about daughter as they
listened to the ominous sounds without, so rapidly growing in force and
number.
Then, just as the deep tones of the war-drum boomed forth upon the night
air, the fallen Aztec betrayed signs of rallying wits, giving a low
sound which might have been groan of pain or curse of baffled rage. Be
that as it may, the sound served one purpose: Victoria Edgecombe (to
append her correct name for the first time) drew her child farther away,
her right hand reaching forth to pluck a light yet effective spear from
where it lay against the wall.
“Mother, mother!” faintly panted the maiden, plainly at a loss to
comprehend all that had so recently transpired. “What is it? What does
it all mean? Surely that was Ixtli; and--the other?”
“A messenger from your father, child, and--”
“My father? I thought--he is not--not dead?”
“Thanks be to heaven, not dead!” with hysterical joy in face as in
voice. “Alive, and seeking us, Gladys! Coming to rescue us from this
death in life, and now--to your knees, my daughter; to thy knees, and
lift thanks unto the good Father who has at last listened to my moans!”
Again the war-drum boomed forth in an awesome roll, but all unheeding
that ominous sound, paying no attention to the stirring of yonder
savage, whose lacerated scalp was painting his face a deeper red than
even nature intended, mother and daughter sank to their knees, lifting
hands and hearts towards the All-Powerful, even as their gratitude
floated towards the Throne of Grace.
Then arose the hoarse tones of Huatzin, bidding his allies find and slay
without mercy; cursing the treacherous Aztec who had thus guided one of
a strange tribe into the very heart of their beloved city.
With a short, fierce ejaculation, Victo sprang to her feet, right hand
once again grasping shaft of javelin, its copper point gleaming ruddily
in the rays of lamp as though already moistened by the heart-blood of
yonder villain.
Far differently acted the maiden, her figure trembling with fear and
wonder commingled, her lips slightly blanched as she clung closer to her
mother. Yet through all ran a touch of girlish curiosity which helped
shape the words now crossing her lips.
“Who was it, mother? Who could the stranger be? And whither has he
gone?”
“With Ixtli, my child, and may the good God of our own people grant
them both life and liberty! If I thought--your father, Gladys! Alive
and looking for his beloved ones! See! from his own dear hand, and he
says--Hold! who comes there?”
But the alarm appeared to be without actual foundation, for the sounds
came no closer, remaining beyond the drapery past which Lord Hua had
staggered only a few brief seconds before.
Gladys rallied more speedily than one might have expected, and she spoke
with even greater interest than at first.
“My dear father, and alive? Oh, mother, why is he not here to--why
should he send another? And that one--he spoke our dear language,
mother; surely he is not--not as Ixtli?”
“No; he was of our own people, child, and I can hardly conceive how he
came hither, save that Ixtli must have acted as guide.”
“And those awful warriors!” shivering as the war-cries followed the
muffled roar of the great drum. “If found, he will be slain! Do you
think there is any hope for him, mother? And he seemed so--so--”
“He is gone with Ixtli, and Ixtli is true to the very core,” Victo
hastened to give assurance. “I would rather trust him than many another
of thrice his years and warlike experience. Ixtli is true; ay, as true
and tried as his father, Aztotl!”
“Who loves you, mother, and would win--”
“Hush, child!” just a bit sharply interposed the elder woman, yet at the
same time tightening that loving clasp. “Merely as the daughter of his
Sun God, Quetzalcoatl, and--ha!”
Once again there came the echoes of rapid foot-falls beyond the heavy
draperies, and again this Amazonian mother drew her superb form in front
of her shrinking child, poising the javelin in readiness for stroke or
casting, as might serve best.
A strong arm brushed the curtains aside sufficiently to admit its
owner's passage, but the armed warrior stopped short at sighting the Sun
Children, his proud head lowering, hands crossing over his broad bosom
in token of adoration,--for it surely was more than mere submission to
one held his superior.
With a low cry, Victo drew back a bit, weapon lowering as she recognised
friend in place of enemy.
“It is you, Aztotl?” she spoke, in mellow tones. “I thought--did you
remove the usual guards, this evening?”
“The blame falls to my share, Sun Child,” the Red Heron made answer,
with a meekness strange in one of his build and general appearance, that
of a king among ordinary warriors.
“Not justly, nor through fault of your own, my good and true friend,”
the elder woman made haste to give assurance. “Not even thy lips shall
speak slander of Aztotl the True-heart, my brother.”
With a swift advance the Red Heron caught the unarmed hand, to bend over
it until his lips barely brushed the soft, perfumed skin. Then he sank
to one knee, bowing his head until his brow touched the floor beneath
her sandalled feet.
Swiftly, gracefully, these movements were made, and where they would
have appeared fulsome or degraded in some, with this warrior the effect
was far from disagreeable to see or to experience.
Victo flushed warmly and drew back a little farther, for the memory of
those words let fall by Gladys came back with unpleasant distinctness.
And was she so certain that Aztotl looked upon her as merely a
god-descended priestess?
The Red Heron arose easily, head rising proudly above his shapely
shoulders as he met those great blue eyes,--eyes as pure and as
fathomless as the cloudless sky in midsummer.
And then, more like one giving a bare statement of facts than one
offering a defence for himself, Aztotl spoke of a faithless subordinate,
who was guilty of either careless neglect, or worse.
“It may be that Tezcatl lost his wits through strong waters, Sun Child,
or even that he took evil pay from still more vile hands. You have seen
the last of him, though, Child of Quetzal'l.”
“You surely do not mean that--”
Aztotl lightly tapped the knife-hilt showing above his maxtlatl, coldly
adding words to that significant gesture:
“There is no place for fool or traitor upon the body-guard of the Sun
Children. Tezcatl sinned; he has paid full forfeit. And just so shall
all others perish who dare cast an evil glance towards--ha!”
Another outcry arose from the other side of the curtained recess, and
the Red Heron instantly sprang away in that direction, hands gripping
weapons in readiness for instant use in case of need.
Almost as swiftly, Victo and the maiden followed, one through fear, the
other through utter lack of fear, for herself.
Those savage cries came from the lips of none other than the chieftain
whose now bare head bore significant traces of Bruno Gillespie's
handiwork, and he seemed bent on rushing directly into the presence of
the Sun Children, until Red Heron interposed, stern and icy-toned:
“Stand back, my Lord Hua!” he ordered, left hand advanced with open
palm, but its dexter mate armed and ready for hot work if that must
come. “Venture no closer, on thy peril, chief!”
Huatzin recoiled a bit, though that might have been more through
surprise than because he feared this proud warrior. He gripped his
knife-hilt, and partly drew the blade from its supporting sash. A
hissing oath escaped his lips, and he crouched a trifle, as a wild beast
gathers its deadliest force prior to making a death leap.
“Darest thou bar my path, Aztotl?” he cried, hoarsely. “Make way, I bid
thee; make way, for I will see the Sun Children and--”
“Not so, my Lord Hua,” coldly interrupted the master of guards, that
warning palm still turned to the front. “You are here without law or
leave, and know what the edict says: from the going to the return of
the sun, these stones are sacred from all feet save those of the Sun
Children and their regular body-guard.”
“What care I for laws? Or for such as thou, Red Heron? I will that such
a thing shall be, and it comes to pass. And--thou dare to bar my way,
Aztotl?”
“Ay. By words if they prove sufficient. By force if called for. By death
if worst must come; even the death of a mighty chieftain like Lord Hua
would not be too great a feat.”
For a brief space it seemed as though Huatzin would make a leap to which
there could be but one termination, death to one or to both. But Aztotl
coldly spoke on:
“I have given you fair and friendly warning, Lord Hua. Go, now, while
the path of peace lies open. Go, else I sound the call, and my
guard will take you in charge, just as they would any other rascally
intruder.”
“Your precious son, for instance?” retorted the 'Tzin, viciously. “He
came with one whom--one of a different race from our own, Aztotl! A
traitor in thy own family, yet thou darest hint at--”
Aztotl lifted a bent finger to his lips, sounding a shrill,
far-penetrating whistle. The response was prompt indeed, an armed force
advancing with weapons held ready, awaiting only word from commander to
punish that rash intruder by hurling him to death over the terraces.
Although nearly beside himself with fury, Huatzin glared defiance at
both guard and its commander, then turned more directly upon the Sun
Children, speaking in savage tones:
“Unto you, proud Victo, I'll either win you as my--”
“Go on, Lord Hua,” coldly spoke the woman, as his voice choked.
“I'll win and wear you as my squaw, or else give you to the stone of
sacrifice!” he snarled, then turned away as Aztotl motioned his guards
to clear the temple of all intruders, then see that none other dared
enter.