"REMEMBER THAT THOU ART A TOLTEC"
Knowing the cruelty of his Aztec captors as well as he did, Tlahuicol
had hoped for no mercy from the first. He even attempted to hasten
the fate that he foresaw was inevitable, by bitter denunciations of
the Aztec priesthood and their horrid rites. Even Topil, the chief
priest, whom Montezuma sent to the prisoner with the hope that his
awful threats might terrify the bold warrior into an acceptance of his
terms, was treated with such scornful contempt, that when he returned
to his royal master the priest's dark face was livid with rage. Under
penalty of the wrath of the gods, which should be called down upon the
whole nation in case his request was not granted, Topil then and there
demanded that not only the impious warrior, but his family as well,
should be delivered to him for sacrifice.
To this the monarch granted a reluctant consent, only stipulating that
they should be reserved for the greatest and most important feasts of
the year, and that their fate should not be announced to them until the
very hour of sacrifice. Although Topil agreed to these terms, he had
no intention of keeping his word. The opportunity of prolonging his
enemies' sufferings by anticipation was too precious to be neglected.
So he caused the information to be conveyed to Tlahuicol's wife that
her husband was doomed to death by torture. At the same time it was
intimated, with equal secrecy, to the brave warrior himself, that
unless he held himself in readiness to put to death with his own hands
a number of Tlascalan captives then awaiting their doom in the dungeons
of the great temple, and to lead an Aztec army against the mountain
republic, his wife and children should die on the altars of Huitzil.
With these cruel threats hanging over them the several members of this
unfortunate family were kept apart, and no communication was allowed to
pass between them.
Although the stern warrior continued in his defiant attitude, and
refused to be moved by either threats or promises, he fell into a state
of settled melancholy. This was soon afterward deepened by the sad news
that the loving wife, who had shared his captivity as cheerfully as
she had his former triumphs, was dead. Of his children he could learn
nothing. It was of them that he was thinking, with a heart well-nigh
breaking from its weight of sorrow, on the night of rejoicing that
preceded the festival of the great calendar stone.
In pursuance of his policy of kindness, by which he hoped to win
this redoubtable warrior to his own service, Montezuma had caused
Tlahuicol to be lodged in one of the numerous dwellings that formed
part of the royal establishment. These buildings, which were occupied
by Aztec nobles in attendance upon the king, and by royal hostages
from conquered nations, stood with the palace in an immense walled
enclosure, hard by the great temple. They were surrounded by gardens
planted with a wealth of tropical trees, shrubs, and flowers, traversed
by a labyrinth of shaded paths and cool grottoes, watered by canals,
lakes, and fountains, and containing immense aviaries of every bird
known to the kingdom, as well as cages of serpents and wild animals.
Ten large tanks, some filled with salt-water, and others with fresh,
were stocked with every procurable variety of fish and marine animal;
while for the care of these creatures, whose habits the king was never
tired of studying, an army of attendant slaves was maintained. Besides
these features of the royal museum, there was a building containing
every form of warlike weapon and defensive armor known to the Aztecs,
another for rare fabrics, and one for exquisitely wrought vessels of
gold, silver, and the prized pottery of Cholula. There was also an
establishment for dwarfs and other human monstrosities, which the
monarch took pleasure in collecting from all parts of his kingdom.
In this place of beauty, and surrounded by all that royalty could
command of things best calculated to interest and amuse, Tlahuicol
chafed at his captivity, and dreamed of his home in the distant
mountains. If he could but once more lead his trusty troops to battle
against the hated Aztec, how gladly would he pay for the privilege with
his life! He was allowed the freedom of the gardens, though always
under guard, and sometimes he would stroll to the training-field where
the king's sons and other noble youth vied with each other in feats of
arms. As he watched them his lip would curl with scorn at their puny
efforts, and a fierce desire to show them what a mountain warrior could
do with those same weapons would seize upon him. But no weapon was
allowed within his reach, and with an air of disgust he would turn and
walk back to his own quarters, always closely followed by his watchful
guards.
On the evening preceding the day of the great feast, Tlahuicol sat
moodily just outside the door of the house in which he was lodged, and
which, beautiful as it was, still seemed to him the most hateful of
prisons. Two motionless guards, armed with keen-edged maquahuitls, or
Aztec swords, stood close at hand at either side, with their eyes fixed
upon him. Should he escape, or should he even do himself bodily harm,
their lives would be forfeit, and with this knowledge their vigilance
was never relaxed.
Tlahuicol sat with downcast eyes and listened to the sounds of revelry
that came faintly to him from the city. Clearly he understood their
meaning, and wondered if on the morrow he was to meet the doom that he
believed to be in store for him. He thought of the wife who was gone
from him, and of the son and daughter concerning whose fate he had long
been kept in ignorance. From these thoughts he was roused by the sound
of approaching footsteps, and at once rose to his feet. In a moment the
king, followed at a short distance by armed torch-bearers, stood before
him.
Abruptly, and in a tone that proved him to be greatly agitated,
Montezuma said:
"Tlahuicol, I am come to thee once again as a friend. As such I would
serve thee, and as such I claim thy service."
"Thy friendship I reject, O king, and my service thou shalt never
have," returned the other, proudly.
"Hear me to the end," replied the king, calmly; "for many days I have
known what thou hast had no means of learning, but which will interest
thee. An army of strange beings, white-skinned and bearded, but whether
gods or men cannot be determined, have come out of the eastern sea,
and landed on our coast. Since their earliest appearance my spies have
noted their every movement, and brought me hourly word concerning them.
I had hoped they would depart in peace, but was disappointed in the
hope. Even now is word brought me that they have attacked and captured
my city of Cempoalla, destroyed its gods, and are preparing to advance
into the interior. If they be gods my power may not prevail against
them. If they be men, as I hope, then will I fight them until they
are swept from the face of the earth, and their hearts smoke upon the
altars of Huitzil. In such a fight all other feuds should be forgotten,
and all the nations of Anahuac united. It is in this service that I
would have thy aid. With thy word that thou wilt enlist thy Tlascalans
against this common foe, and lead them to battle as of old, both thou
and thy children are free. Refuse it, and thy heart shall lie on
Huitzil's altar ere the setting of the morrow's sun."
In spite of this startling intelligence, in spite of the tempting
offer thus made, and in spite of the terrible threat by which it was
accompanied, Tlahuicol's voice, as he answered the king, was as calm as
though he was discussing some topic of ordinary interest.
"O king," he said, "know what I have told no man ere now, that I am no
Tlascalan, but am a Toltec of the Toltecs. For many generations have
my ancestors dwelt in the country of the Mayas. From there I came to
this land to battle against thy accursed gods. Since the day that I
left the Mayan people have I ever been in communication with them. Thus
did I learn long since of strange and terrible beings, white-skinned
and bearded as thou dost describe, who had landed on the Mayan coast.
I was told much concerning them, and one thing I learned that thou
wouldst give half thy kingdom to know for a certainty."
"Tell it me then, I command thee?" cried the king.
"I will tell it," answered Tlahuicol, "upon condition that thou first
grant me a few minutes private converse with my children."
"Thy daughter is removed from here, but thy son is at hand. In return
for thy secret, I will grant thee a single minute with him, but no
more."
"It is all I ask," replied the prisoner.
The king gave an order to one of the guards and handed him his signet.
The soldier departed. In a few minutes he returned accompanied by a
tall, finely proportioned youth, of noble bearing, just entering upon
manhood. It was Huetzin, who, at sight of his father, whom he had
feared was dead, sprang into Tlahuicol's arms, and was enfolded in a
close embrace. Quickly releasing himself, the elder man said hurriedly,
but in too low a tone for the bystanders to hear:
"Huetzin, my son, by tomorrow's set of sun I may be with thy mother,
therefore do thou take these as my latest words. Remember always that
thou art a Toltec, that the Aztecs and the Aztec gods are mortal
enemies of thy gods and thy people. If thou art spared, as I feel thou
wilt be, devote thy life to their overthrow. The white conquerors, of
whom I have so often spoken to thee, are even now in the land. If thou
canst escape from this den of murderers, make thy way to them, join
thyself to them, and lead them to this place. As for little Tiata, I
trust thee----"
"Thy time is ended!" interrupted the stern voice of the king; "and now
for thy secret?"
There was one more straining embrace between father and son, then the
latter, exclaiming, "I will never forget!" was roughly dragged away and
disappeared in the darkness.
Folding his arms, and turning grandly to the king, Tlahuicol said:
"The secret that thou wouldst hear, O Montezuma, is that the strange
beings who trouble thee are not gods, but men. At the same time they be
men possessed of powers so terrible that they will sweep thee and thy
false gods from the face of the earth, as the breath of the north wind
scattereth chaff. Know, too, that sooner than lift hand to stay their
coming, I will pray for their success with my latest breath."
"Thy prayers will be few and short, then," answered the king, in a tone
of suppressed rage, as he turned away; "for on the morrow thy false
heart shall be torn from thy body, and the wild fowls of the air shall
feast upon thy carcass."