NAHUA BEARS WITNESS
Some hours passed, and again the gates were opened, and through them
came Tikal and a guard of five men. The guard he left by the gates,
advancing alone to where we were seated near the far end of the hall.
“What would you of us?” asked Maya. “Can you not leave me in peace
even here in my dungeon?”
“I desire to speak with you alone, Maya.”
“Then, Tikal, I tell you now what I have told you before, that I will
not listen to your words alone. If you have anything to say, say it in
the presence of my husband and my friend, or go and leave it unsaid.”
“You speak roughly to one who comes here in the hope of saving the
lives of all of you,” he answered; “still I will bear with you in this
as I have borne with you in much else. Listen: all your crimes are
known to me, for Nahua, my wife, has revealed them to me. I know how
you and that dead rogue, Mattai, on whom the curse of heaven has most
justly fallen, forged the prophecy and violated the sanctuary, for I
have held the proofs of it in my hand.”
“Do you know that we did this to save our lives,” asked Maya, “for if
we had not done it, Mattai would have murdered us in order that, by
removing me, he might assure his daughter in her place?”
“I do not know why you did it, nor do I care, seeing that nothing can
lighten such a crime; but I think that you did it in order that you
might win yonder white man as a husband. At the least the thing is
done, and vengeance waits you,--vengeance from which there is but one
escape.”
“What escape?” asked Maya quickly, for when she learned that Tikal
knew everything, all hope had faded from her heart, as from ours.
“Maya, two people live, and two alone, who know this tale,--Nahua my
wife, and I myself. Till this morning there was but one, for Nahua
only told me of it when she found that you had not escaped, and this
she has done that she may be rid of you whom she hates as her rival.
Therefore it was that she would have held me back from pursuing you,
and therefore it is that she will appear before the Council of the
Heart this night, so that her evidence may ensure your instant death
in the Pit of Waters. But as it chances, least of anything on the
earth do I desire that my eyes should lose sight of you, whom now as
ever I love better than anything on the earth.”
Now the señor grew white with rage, and he broke in--
“You will do well to keep such words to yourself, Tikal; for of this
be sure,--if you do not, I will add to my crimes and you shall not
leave this place alive. No need to look at your guards. What do I care
for your guards, who have but one life to lose. Speak thus again, and,
before they reach you, you shall be dead.”
“Let him go on, husband,” said Maya; “what can a few insults more or
less matter to us now. Continue, most noble Tikal; but, for your own
sake, restrain yourself, and say nothing that a husband should not
hear.”
“It is for this reason,” he went on, taking no notice of the señor’s
anger, “that I have come here with a plan to save you all; yes, even
this braggart white man who has robbed me of you. If Nahua and I are
silent, who will know of your crimes? And if the evidence of them is
destroyed before your eyes, who is there that can prove them? Now, I
will be silent--at a price. I will even bring the true tablet of the
prophecy and the roll of Mattai’s confession, and destroy them with
fire before you.”
“You will be silent,” said Maya,--“but what of Nahua? Will she be
silent also?”
Now Tikal’s dark face grew evil with some purpose of his own, though
whether it were of murder or of what I do not know.
“Leave Nahua to me,” he said. “Withdraw the charge you made against
her, of attempting to kill yonder child, and free her thus of the need
of appearing this night in the Sanctuary, and I swear to you that no
word of her dreadful secret shall ever pass her lips. Then you will be
tried upon one issue only,--that of having broken your oaths by flying
the city,--a crime that is not beyond forgiveness.”
“You spoke of a price, Tikal; tell us, what is this price that we must
pay?”
“The price is yourself, Maya. Nay,--hear me out; and you, White Man,
keep silent. If you will swear upon the Heart to become my wife within
six months from this day, then I, on my part, will swear that the
white man--your husband who is not your husband, for he won the
consent of the Council to his marriage by a trick--shall be suffered
to escape the land unharmed, taking with him his friend and so much of
our treasure and things needful for their journey as he may desire. I
will swear also--and by this you may see how deep and honest is my
love for you--that your son shall not be dispossessed of the place and
rank which he holds in the eyes of the people as a Heaven-sent
Deliverer whose coming was foretold by prophecy. My child shall give
place to yours, Maya. Once before I held out the hand of peace to you,
but you refused it and tricked me, and from that refusal has sprung
the death of your father and many other sorrows. Do not refuse me
again, Maya, lest these sorrows should be increased and multiplied
upon you, and upon us all. It is no strange or unnatural thing I ask
of you--that you should wed the man to whom for many years you were
affianced, and take your place as the first lady in this city, instead
of giving yourself over, with your accomplices, to the most infamous
of deaths.”
“Yet it is most strange and unnatural, Tikal, that a wife should be
asked to part thus from her husband. But stay,--it is for him to
speak, not me, for he may be glad to buy safety at this cost. First,
what do you say, Ignatio? Tell me,--though I fear your answer, for it
is easy to guess, seeing that Tikal offers all that you can desire,
freedom, and treasure to enable you to execute your plans.”
“It is true, Lady,” I replied, “that he offers me these
things,--though whether or no he is able to give them I cannot say;
and it is true also that I have no wife here whom I must leave, and no
prospect save that of a traitor’s death. Still, Lady, I remember a
certain promise that I made to you yonder in the wilderness, when by
your courage you saved your husband’s life; and I remember also that
it was through me that he, my friend, came to visit this accursed
city. Therefore I say, let our fate be one fate.”
“Those are very noble words, friend,” she said, “such as could have
come only from your noble heart. Now, husband, do you speak?”
“I have nothing to say, Maya,” replied the señor with a little laugh,
“except that I wonder why you waste time, which we might spend happily
together, in listening to this fellow’s insults. If you bid me to go
to save you, perhaps I might think about it; but certainly I will not
stir one pace from your side to save myself from any death.”
“It seems that I have got my answer,” said Tikal. “May none of you
regret it to-night when you come to look down into the Pit of Waters.
Well, time presses, and I have much to do before we meet again,”--and
he turned to leave us.
Now, as he went, despair took hold of Maya. For a moment she struggled
with it and with herself, then she cried:
“Come back, Tikal!”
He came, and stood before her in cold silence, and she spoke,
addressing her husband in a slow voice:
“You are over-hasty; _my_ answer is not yet spoken, husband. Tikal, I
accept your offer. Prevent Nahua from giving testimony against us;
destroy the evidences she holds, and set these men safe, with all that
they may desire, on the further side of yonder mountain, and within
six months I will become your wife.”
Now the señor and I stared at each other aghast.
“Are you mad?” he said, “or do you speak so in the hope of saving us?”
“Would it be wonderful, husband,” she answered, “if I should wish to
save myself and my child? That I have loved you and love you, you
know; yet is there any love in the grave? While I live, at least I
have my memories; if I die, even these may be taken from me. Go back,
husband, go back wealthy to your own people and your old life, and
choose some other woman to be your companion. Do not forget me,
indeed; but let me become as a dream to you, seeing that for all our
sakes this is the best. To you also, Ignatio, I say ‘go.’ Our
fellowship has brought you little luck; may its severing be more
fortunate, and may you at last attain your ends. Tikal, give me your
hand, and let us swear the oath.”
He stepped towards her,--his eyes glowing with triumph; but as their
fingers touched she glanced sideways and upwards, and saw the doubt
and agony written on her husband’s face. With a little scream, she
sprang to him and threw herself into his arms, saying:
“Forgive me; I have tried my best, but this is more than I can do. Oh!
weak and foolish that I am, I cannot part from you, no, not even to
save your life. Surely you did not think that I should have fulfilled
this oath and given myself to him in marriage. No, no,--it is to death
that I should have given myself when you were gone. But I cannot part
with you,--I cannot part with you,--though my selfishness is your
doom.”
“I rejoice to hear it,” said the señor. “Listen you, Tikal, if you
are a man, give me a sword and let us settle this matter face to face.
So shall one of us at least be rid of his doubts and troubles.”
“Surely, White Man,” answered Tikal, “you must be a fool as well as a
rogue, otherwise you would scarcely ask me to risk my life against
yours, which is already forfeit to the law. Farewell, Maya; long have
you fooled and tormented me; to-night I will repay you all,”--and he
went.
It might be thought that, after Tikal was gone, we should have spoken
together of what had passed, and of the dangers before us. But this
was not so. I think we felt--all of us--that there was nothing more to
be said. It is useless to fight against Fate, and it is still more
useless to be afraid of him, seeing that whatever we do or leave
undone, he has his will of us at last. So we sat and chatted on
indifferent things,--of our life at the mine at Cumarvo, of that night
which we spent in the _hacienda_ at Santa Cruz, of the death of our
brave companion, Molas, and I know not what besides. Presently the
child awoke, and its parents occupied themselves with it, finding
resemblance to each other in its tiny features, while I walked up and
down the hall, counting the lamps, smoking, and wondering where I
should be by this time on the morrow.
At length the gates opened, for now it was almost the middle of the
night, and there came through them Dimas and a guard of priests. The
old man bowed before us and said that the time had come to lead us
before the Council in the Sanctuary, but that we were to have no fear,
seeing that, from all that he had been able to learn, our offence
would be leniently dealt with. Maya asked what was to become of the
infant, which could not be left alone, and he replied that she must
bring it with her, whereon she began to wrap it in a _serape_.
“Your care is needless,” said Dimas. “There is a secret way to the
Sanctuary from this place, by which I propose to lead you in order
that the child, our lord, shall not be exposed to the raw cold of the
night.”
Then he took a bunch of keys from his girdle, and, handing them to one
who accompanied him,--a fellow-priest and a member of the Council,--he
commanded him to go forward with several of the escort, to open the
doors and light lamps in the passages that lay between us and the
Sanctuary. The priest went, and, having waited awhile, we followed
him, to find him standing by the marble wall which separated the
passages from the Sanctuary. On seeing us approach, he gave the signs,
which were answered from within; next he opened the false door with a
silver key, leaving the key and the bunch to which it was attached
fixed in the lock, for Dimas to take as he passed. This, however, the
old priest did not do, for he thought that we should all return by
this passage, and as we stepped into the Sanctuary he contented
himself with closing the door without locking it.
Now once more we stood within the dim and holy place, there to take
our trial for offences committed against the laws of the City of the
Heart. There was a full gathering of the Council, and Tikal, its
high-priest and president, sat in his seat behind the altar, but I
noted, with a thrill of hope, that Nahua his wife was not by his side,
nor was she to be found among the members of the Council. We took
seats that had been prepared for us in the open space before the
altar, Maya being placed in the centre, and the señor and myself on
either side of her. Next the Priest of the Records rose and announced
that the first business before the Council was the trial of three of
its members, namely, Maya, Lady of the Heart, her husband, the white
man, Son of the Sea, and Ignatio, the Wanderer, a lord of the Heart
from beyond the mountains, upon the charge of having broken their
oaths which they took as members of the Council. Having read this
formal accusation, the priest set out the case against us clearly but
briefly:
“On this very night of the festival of the Rising of Waters, a year
ago,” he began, “you, strangers, amongst other things swore upon the
altar, setting in pledge your souls and bodies for the fulfilment of
the oath, that without the consent of this high Brotherhood you would
not attempt to leave the gates of the City of the Heart. Yet but the
other day you were overtaken and seized in the act of flying across
the mountains to the wilderness beyond. Nor is this all your crime,
for with you was that infant, born of the white man and the Lady of
the Heart, the Heaven-sent Child of prophecy, of whom you wickedly
sought to rob us and the people. Say, now, how do you plead to these
charges?”
“We plead guilty,” answered Maya, “but we ask to be heard in our own
defence. Listen, lords: Since that night when we were married by your
command, my husband and I myself have been dogged by murder, and
yonder, as high-priest of the Heart and president of your councils, he
sits who would have murdered us. I see among you this night some of
those who waited on me upon the day of our escape, having the Lord
Dimas at the head of them. What did they tell me? That a plot had been
discovered, made by Tikal, my cousin, to murder my husband, my child,
and my friend, Ignatio the Wanderer. They told me also that Tikal
would be deposed because of this and his other crimes, and that the
infant in my arms would to-night be anointed _cacique_ of the people
of the Heart. Is it not so, Dimas?”
“It is so, lady,” he answered, “and learn that you are not the only
ones who are on trial this night. Though your case is taken first,
that of Tikal the high-priest and others will follow; but till then,
in virtue of his rank and office, he sits as president of our
Council.”
Now Tikal sprang from his seat, but Dimas turned upon him and said
sternly:
“Keep silent, lord, or speak only to fulfil the duties of your place.
Your judging shall be just, but know that there is no hope of escape
for you till it is done, seeing that your guards are disarmed, and all
the paths are watched.”
Tikal seated himself again, and Maya went on:
“On that very night of the coming of the Lord Dimas, when I was alone
in my chamber, the Lady Nahua, the wife of Tikal, crept upon me and
strove to murder this my child;” and she set out the story telling how
the señor and I, hearing her cries for help, had entered the chamber
and seized and bound Nahua. “Then it was, brethren, that sudden terror
took us, and we fled, seeking to escape a land where we could not live
in safety from one hour to another. This is our sin, and we leave our
punishment in your hands. Surely it was better that we should strive
to save the child, so that he might live to play his part, whatever
that may be, than that he should be kept here to be butchered by those
whom you have raised up to rule you.”
When Maya had finished her speech the señor and I addressed the
Council in turn, confirming all that she had said, and submitting
ourselves to the judgment of the Brotherhood.
Now we were commanded to fall back, and took our stand beneath the
mask of the Nameless god, while the Council consulted together, and
there we awaited our doom. Presently we were brought forward again,
and Tikal spoke to us, saying that our sentence was postponed till the
charge against Nahua, the daughter of Mattai, and against himself,
Tikal, the _cacique_ and high-priest of the City of the Heart, had
been considered, adding in a slow and triumphant voice:
“Let Nahua, the daughter of Mattai, who waits without, be brought into
the presence of the Heart.”
We heard, and gathered up our courage to meet the advancing fate, for
we knew that death was on us, and that for us there was no more pity
or escape.
The door was opened, and Nahua came through it, dressed in the robes
of her rank, and wearing the green diadem that could be carried only
by the wife or mother of the _cacique_.
“What is your pleasure with me, lords?” she said proudly, after she
had made her obeisance to the altar.
Then the Priest of the Records rose and read the charge, namely, that
she had attempted with her own hand to do murder upon the body of the
infant child of Maya, Lady of the Heart, and her husband, the white
man; also that she had aided and abetted Tikal, her husband, in
various acts of cruelty and misgovernment that were alleged against
him, asking her what she pleaded in answer.
“To the last charge, not guilty,” she said. “Let Tikal defend his own
sins. To the first, guilty. I did attempt to put an end to yonder
brat, but Maya discovered me, and I was caught and bound.”
“Surely, brethren,” said Dimas, rising, “we need carry this matter no
further. We have heard the evidence of the Lady Maya and the others,
and now Nahua confesses to her crime. She confesses that she attempted
to take the life of him whom she knew to be the sacred child, the hope
of the People of the Heart, and for such a sin it seems to me that
there is but one punishment, though it is terrible, and she who must
suffer it is a woman and of high rank.”
“Stay!” broke in Nahua. “You have not heard me out, and I have the
right to speak before I am condemned to die. You charge me with having
attempted to take the life of ‘the sacred child, the hope of the
People of the Heart,’ and, had I done this, doubtless I should be
worthy of your doom, whereas in truth I am worthy of your praise.
Lords of the Heart, this child whom you adore, the Heaven-sent Child
of prophecy, whom to-night you would anoint as your _cacique_,
deposing Tikal, my husband, and who, as you believe, shall be the star
to light our race to greatness and to victory, is a living lie, a
fraud, and a bastard!”
Now a confusion broke out among the Council, and angry voices called
to her to cease her blasphemies; but she won silence, and went on:
“Hear me out, I pray you, for, even if I wished it, I should not dare
to speak thus at random, but am prepared with proof of every word I
utter. You think that I would have killed this child to wring the
heart of my rival, Maya,--and indeed I desire to wring it; and that I
would set my own son in his place,--and indeed I wish to set him
there. Yet these were not my reasons for the deed. Lords of the
Council, listen to a tale, the strangest that ever you have heard, and
judge between me and Tikal, my husband, and Maya, my rival, and her
friends. Mattai, my father, was known to you all, seeing that at the
time of his death, and, indeed, since Tikal was anointed _cacique_, he
stood next to him in place and power among the People of the Heart,
holding those offices in the Brotherhood which now are filled by
Dimas, and among them that of Keeper of the Sanctuary. Yet, lords,
Mattai, my father, was no true man. Alas! that I should have to say
it, seeing that it was more for my sake that he sinned than for his
own, since he loved me, and desired my welfare above everything on
earth. It was this love of his that ruined him, making him false to
his god, to his oaths, and to his country. Thus, in the beginning, he
knew that since I was a child I had set my heart upon the Lord Tikal,
who was affianced to the Lady Maya; also that I was ambitious and
yearned to be great. Therefore it was that he deceived Tikal,
pretending that it had been revealed to him by heaven that the Lady
Maya and her father were dead in the wilderness. Therefore it was also
that when he had persuaded him that she was lost to him for ever, he
pressed it upon the Lord Tikal that he should marry me in place of
Maya, his affianced, who was dead, promising him in return that he
would bring it about that he should be anointed _cacique_ of the
People of the Heart. All these things and others he did, though at
that time I knew nothing of them, and thought in my folly that Tikal
married me because he loved me, and sought me as the companion of his
life and power.
“Then Zibalbay returned on the night of our marriage-feast, and with
him came Maya and the strangers; and from that hour my husband began
to hate me because I was his wife in place of Maya, whom he loved.
More, as I have learned since, he went to Zibalbay while he lay in
prison, and offered to resign his place as _cacique_ in his favour for
so long as he should live, and no more to oppose his schemes, if he
would give him Maya in marriage after I had been put away either by
death or by divorce. This Zibalbay would have done, and gladly; but,
as it chanced, Maya here had set her heart upon the white man during
their journeyings together through the wilderness, and refused to be
separated from him that she might be palmed off in marriage upon
Tikal. Yet he might have won his way, for their case was desperate,
and the alternative was death had not Mattai, my father, found a plan
whereby they could be saved and I remain the wife of the _cacique_.
This was the plan, lords: that a prophecy should be set in the symbol
of the Heart yonder, such as would deceive the Council of the Heart,
and bring it about that Maya should be given in marriage to the white
man whom she loved. Lords, this was done. At the dead of night they
crept to the Sanctuary, and, opening the Heart, they placed within it
that tablet which you have seen, the tablet that foreshadowed the
birth of a Deliverer. The rest you know.”
“It is false,” cried many voices. “Such sacrilege is not possible.”
“It is not false,” answered Nahua, “and I will prove to you that the
sacrilege was possible. The Heart was opened, and the false prophecy
forged by my father was placed within it, where it was found by you on
the night of the festival of the Rising of Waters, this day a year
ago. But when the holy Heart was opened, behold! it was not empty, for
in it lay another prophecy,--a true prophecy,--which was removed from
it, that the lie which has deceived you might be set in its place.”
“Where, then, is that writing?” asked Dimas.
“Here,” she answered, drawing the tablet from her breast. “Listen----”
and she read:
“_The Eye that has slept and is awakened sees the heart and purpose of
the wicked. I say that in the hour of the desolation of my city not
all the waters of the Holy Lake shall wash away their sin._”
“Take it, lords, and see for yourselves,” she continued, laying the
tablet on the altar. “Now, listen again, and learn how it chanced that
this relic came into my keeping. After he had wrought this great sin,
the curse of the Nameless god fell upon my father, and, as you know,
he was smitten with a sore disease. Then it came about that, when he
lay dying, remorse took him, and he wrote a certain paper which he
caused to be witnessed and given to me, together with this tablet. In
my hand I hold that paper, lords; hear it and judge for yourselves
whether I have spoken truth or falsehood,”--and she read aloud the
confession of Mattai, that set out every detail of our plot and the
manner of its execution.
“Now, lords,” she added, when the reading was finished and the
signatures had been examined, “you will understand how it happened
that in my rage at this tidings I strove to kill yonder infant, who
has been palmed off upon you as the seed of the god, and I leave it to
you to deal with those who planned the fraud.”