Casca 10: The Conquistador (14 page)

BOOK: Casca 10: The Conquistador
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Cortes could hardly have imagined the emperors of ancient Rome dining in more majesty or being treated more regally. None of Moctezuma's people were permitted to sit in his presence or wear shoes or look him in the face, with the exception of a few great lords he was fond of or needed. Among the Spanish, only Cortes was given this privilege, and Cortes made it clear to his men that under no circumstances would they offend the customs of this king.

Moctezuma changed his clothes four times a day, never wearing the same outfit twice. His castoffs were given as presents to those who served him, and they were greatly prized for having been next to the skin of the king.

He was an unusually clean man, bathing twice a day, a thing which astonished most of the Spaniards, who thought too much bathing would wash away the protection that a good coat of grease and dirt gives the body. At a small, informal dinner such as the one Cortes attended, the dishes were served at one time by four hundred pages who were all the sons of nobles. Moctezuma would make his choices, indicating those he preferred, and the dishes would be set on braziers to keep them warm. Once he had made his selection for dinner, as many as fifteen or twenty of his most beautiful wives would enter to serve the dishes as he wanted them. There were several old men of good family who sat by the king's side and took morsels from his dishes and ate them with great reverence, never looking at his face. During the meal, clowns, hunchbacks, and dwarfs performed acrobatics for the king's pleasure.

When the meal was finished, what was not eaten was given to the warriors of his household guard. Each day, all three thousand of them were fed from the leftovers from the king's table. The plates were as fine as any potter in Spain could have made, and they too were never used for more than one meal. When the meal was formally finished and the table cleared, those he chose to talk or visit with would remain. The others would withdraw quietly. Only his servants, who stayed at the far end of the hall, where they could see if their master wished anything from them, were permitted to stay.

It was after this meal that Moctezuma spoke again to Cortes. Marina and Geronimo kept their eyes averted from the face of the king. They were permitted in this place only as the servants of Cortes, and she was not given or offered food. They were there only to translate. Moctezuma wondered why this manifestation could not speak his tongue and the scar-faced one could. Another mystery.

Moctezuma spoke gravely and seriously with all the dignity of his office. Only the two kinsmen whom he trusted were permitted to hear his words. He knew that there were those who did not approve of his actions. To Cortes he bowed his head.

"My lord, I am pleased that you have come to my house at last. If I begged you not to come before, it was because my people were afraid of you and your wild beasts and because you have come from heaven and brought the thunder with you. I know that your warriors are mortal men and that you are the manifestation of he who was promised, as I said earlier. You know that with your coming there have been rebellions against me and that some of my vassals have become my foemen. But I will deal with them as they merit in time.

"Do you see that I am only a mortal man like any other and not a god, though I have to maintain my dignity for the sake of my high office? The houses you see are only common things made of sticks and mud, and there are few such as this poor place of stone. I tell you this so that you should know the truth of my possessions, which are now yours. Yes, we have some gold and silver that you value for some reason most highly, whereas for us the swords you wear are worth more than ten times their weight in gold or silver, for we do not have such metal in my land. But what gold and silver we have is also yours and will be brought to you when you wish it done. For as you and you alone know, we have met before, and as you said you would, you have come again."

These words confused Cortes somewhat. He could only believe that perhaps Marina and Geronimo were not able to translate literally everything the king said. Still, if the king wished to think him a god or a god's aspect, who was he not to let him do so, for it would greatly simplify what he wished to do. He knew now that he could take all Mexico through the use of Moctezuma as his servant and vassal. Through the mouth of Moctezuma would go the words that would deliver to him the wealth, the land, and the people of this valley.

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

As Moctezuma left Cortes, Casca moved behind him. Ignoring the Eagle knights of the king's escort, he spoke softly so that only Moctezuma could hear him. "We must meet tomorrow at my temple in the city. I shall be waiting for you at midday. Order the priests there to leave the temple and not return until you command it."

When the king left, the door was immediately secured by the Spaniards, a crossbowman and two arquebusiers placed in front of them with their ungainly matchlocks. Casca thought that the crossbows were more practical, had as much range, and were faster to load, but the muskets had a greater effect on the minds of the Indians. He wondered how long the fear of such weapons would last and when the Indians would stop believing them to be magical devices. In time, if they had time, they would lose much of their fear of the Spaniards and their weapons. Familiarity removes many fears, and once the Indians no longer saw the Castilians as nearly mystical beings, things would change rapidly.

In the morning, Moctezuma came to take Cortes on a tour of his city. The island had sixty thousand houses and a population of three hundred thousand. There were palaces, temples, streets and markets for vendors and merchants, and places where justice was given and punishments and rewards meted out.

With their escorts they went to the teocalli of the war god Huitzilopochtli and Texcatlipoca, his brother, the god of plenty and harvests. Each temple was like a small city of its own, served by specific villages who were responsible for its upkeep and the maintenance of its priests. Around the temples were altars and chapels used as sepulchers for the nobles as well as places of devotion and sacrifice. The temples were all placed so that the people who prayed to the rising sun would face them in their devotions.

Each entrance to the teocallis had large halls with connecting chambers on either side where arms and supplies were stored. Other chambers with small, dark doors held the images of the gods. Hundreds of idols, all of them black with human blood, were tended by the devout. Each idol had to be cared for. After a sacrifice, blood was collected and brought to these dark places, and each of the idols was washed in it. The cloying, sweet, sickening odor of death that was exuded from these chambers made more than one Spaniard feel the need to vomit from the purulent stench. It didn't seem to bother the priests at all, for they came every day to tend their masters and pray.

Moctezuma led the way up the terraces, each one smaller than the last, until they reached the top, over two hundred feet in height. At the top were two large altars set close to the edge of the platform. Their sides were painted with the different aspects of the gods and their minions. To the Spanish, all of them were horrible demons and devils. Most horrible of all were the huge idols of the gods Huitzilopochtli and Texcatlipoca, which were made of stone weighing several tons and stood over twice the size of a tall man. They were covered over in mother-of-pearl in which were set precious stones: emeralds, rubies, pearls, and topazes. Around their waists like belts were thick snakes of gold; on the neck, each wore a necklace of golden hummingbirds. There was a golden mask set on each head with polished eyes of obsidian, and at the backs of their heads, a dead man's face looked out.

Each altar had a small chapel of carved wood with three levels, one above the other. Seen from a distance, they looked like tall towers.

From there, Cortes and his escort, which included Juan, who looked very proud at being granted the honor of attending his leader, had their first look over the city of Tenochtitlan. The waterways were crowded with boats, rafts, and canoes, bringing the things the city required: food, slaves, gold, and reeds from the marshes. Cortes sucked in his breath. Only now did he realize how much he had gambled for.

This was a greater city than Venice, more beautiful and richer, and it was being offered to him. If he wished, he could be king of this land and keep it for himself as his own domain. The thought was appealing, but he knew that it would not do. He was only the first of his race to come; soon there would be others. If he could gain the power he had over the Indians, others could do the same. It was difficult to push the thought of having his own kingdom away, but he knew that there was no choice. If he claimed these lands for himself rather than the king, it wouldn't be long before he would be assassinated by one of his own men.

Moctezuma told him of the priests and acolytes who served the god. At this one site, five thousand men were in constant attendance to serve the god's needs. Not even the Pope in Rome had such completely devoted servants in such numbers, for this was only one temple in a city of temples.

When they left the temple of the war god and his brother, they passed what resembled a theater built from the skulls of enemies taken in battle. The skulls were set so that they faced teeth outward. At the upper part of the theater were hundreds of tall poles, five spans apart, into which pegs had been driven, each of them holding five skulls impaled through the temples. Juan de Castro tried to count them one day and lost track at over a hundred thousand.

During the tour, the Spaniards said little, astonished by the magnificence of the city and the horror of its religion. Many rosaries were touched and silent Hail Marys said by the devout on their visit.

Moctezuma bade Cortes forgive him as he had duties yet to attend to. Then he left the Spaniard at his new house.

With a small guard of two hundred Eagle knights escorting his litter, Moctezuma went to the temple of the Quetza. It was round instead of a pyramid, for this temple was dedicated to the god in his aspect of the wind and air, for the air encompasses the sky. At the entrance, he left his escort behind with orders not to come in after him or disturb him. He had to speak to the god alone. His knights obeyed, watching the back of their king as he entered through a door carved like a serpent's head with the fangs extended.

The priests normally in attendance to the god were not to be seen, as he had ordered. The inside of the temple was decorated with painted frescoes and bas-relief carvings of the god Quetzalcoatl. Of all the gods of Mexico, he was the most peculiar, for he had more faces than any other and was the most complicated. The gods of war and harvests were easy to understand. The war god needed the hearts of warriors to feed him, and the lord of harvests required the blood of virgins to be spilled into the earth to renew the seasons. But the Quetza was different in all things. At the same time he was the god of learning, the god of the evening star, and the god of the air and the winds. He was
the only one who had been given, by the wise men and shamans, a date on which he would return to the valley – 1 Reed!

Moctezuma bowed low before the altar. A golden serpent with eyes of rubies curled around a disk representing the sky and heavens glowered at him. He lowered his eyes from the stones before the altar and waited.

"I am pleased that you have come. Rise and listen to me. We have things which must be said."

Moctezuma obeyed, lifting his eyes to see Casca seated on the lowermost golden coil of the serpent idol. Over his face was the jade mask, and on his shoulders, covering his breastplate of Spanish steel, was a cloak made with the tiny breast feathers of hummingbirds. The cloak had taken a master weaver three years to make, an iridescent work of art that breathed and moved with a life of its own with lights of blue and green interwoven and burning. Tens of thousands of tiny of sparkling light danced with the flickering of dozens of oil lamps set around the altar. Over his head, the figure of the golden serpent watched the king of the Aztecs with malevolent ruby eyes, its white fangs bared and ready to strike.

Casca had thought long about what he should say. The words were not easy or what he knew had to happen pleasant. To see this proud man kneeling before him, thinking him a god, was not something he relished, but there was no other way.

"Listen to me carefully. I know that you are confused and frightened by what is happening. Do not be. If Cortes does not seem to understand why you say certain things to him, do not worry, for he is only part of me and has no need to know certain things. But I hear and understand. That is all you need to know. A time of trial is coming for you and your people. Your world as you know it is going to end. You cannot save it."

Moctezuma sobbed out, "Do you mean that we shall all die?"

Casca shook his head, his eyes sad behind the stone mask. "Not all and perhaps not many. That is the mission I give you, to save the lives and much of the culture of your nation. From this day there is no going back. If your people resist the Spanish, then they will be destroyed utterly, never to rise again. Cortes and his warriors will make mistakes and will offend many by their manner; that is of no import. Keep those they offend under control, even to giving up your own life. I know that what I demand is not easy for you and that many of your nobles will not accept it without struggle. Some of them will try to kill the Spaniards. Do not let them succeed.

"If these ones who have come to your city are destroyed, then you will have no hope at all for the future of your nation, for others like them will come. As do locusts, they will ravage your land and take it for themselves, leaving your people only the ashes of memory to sustain them. And they will die not only from battles but from a sickness of the soul they will not be able to resist, and your nation shall be cast down."

Moctezuma wept openly, for all this had been predicted long ago. "I will obey, lord, but is there no other way? Cannot the other gods help us? Can they not save us? Speak to them for us. Ask them to aid us, for they are your brothers and will listen to you."

Casca had no good answer for the king. To say that there were no other gods would be to deny his own existence and divinity. Rising from the serpent's coil, he turned his back so that the king would not see the tears of his god running from beneath the jade mask.

"There is no help for you from anyone but me. This is a time of the dying, not only the dying of your nation but of your gods too. Our time has come to give ground for a new way, as nations give way to stronger lords."

Moctezuma came to his feet, hands extended and pleading. "Even you? Are you going to leave us?"

The god shook his head as he turned back around. "It is not that I shall leave you. You shall leave me, and this time there will be no returning for either of us. Now leave me and remember what I have said. The fate of your people is in your hands."

Moctezuma obeyed. He left the god alone in his temple, returning to his warriors, the stain of tears on his face bearing mute testimony to the depths of his despair. The Knights of the Eagles looked at each other, wondering what had taken place inside the temple. They knew from one of the priests who served the temple that only the king was inside. Yet they had heard more than one voice coming from it, though they couldn't make out the words. Perhaps their king had had a visitation from the Quetza.

Trouble was beginning. Cortes learned that nine of his men had been killed by Cualpopca, the governor of an Aztec province near the borders of Cempola. Pedro de Ircio had written to him of the deaths, saying that he had avenged them by destroying the Cualpopca's capital and by driving him and the Aztecs out of the city. Cortes blamed Moctezuma for this and when next Moctezuma came to him placed him under arrest, saying that it was for his own protection and to prove his devotion and friendship. There was very nearly a battle started by Moctezuma's Eagle knights when they saw this happen, but they were stopped by the king when he explained that he was not a captive, that he had decided to stay with the Spaniards as it was his pleasure to do so. This was not believed by all, but he was the king, and no one could do any more now than obey him.

Twice during the next week Moctezuma went to see Cortes, wondering what was going to happen next. The god had spoken, and he knew that what he had said was true. There very likely would be trouble from his nobles and subjects, but there was no way to do anything differently. The god had spoken, and this he related to Cortes as they walked through the gardens and menageries of his palace. To Cortes and the Spaniards, the gods Moctezuma spoke of were devils, and they placed no trust in the words of Moctezuma or any other. Even when Moctezuma tried to convince Cortes of his loyalty, he was not believed completely. Cortes demanded that he be given Cualpopca to stand trial, not before the Aztecs but before him.

This was done. Moctezuma's power was such that Cualpopca, along with his aides and officers, came to him voluntarily from a distance of sixty leagues. When he was questioned about his reason for attacking the Spaniards, he answered very honestly that he thought he was doing the will of the king, for he could not imagine his lord making such as them welcome. Cortes accused Moctezuma of treachery and had Cualpopca and fifteen of his nobles sentenced to death and burned in public before the people of Tenochtitlan, with Moctezuma standing beside him to let all know who
was now the master of the Aztecs.

When the executions were over and the charred bodies had been removed by friends and family, Cortes again confronted Moctezuma with accusations, to which Moctezuma once more replied he was the best friend and ally the Spanish had; Cortes ordered him to prove the truth of his words by making a public proclamation to his nobles that he was now the willing vassal of the Spanish and that they were to likewise accept his rule over them.

Moctezuma agreed and sent forth his messengers to the great men of his empire. They were summoned to him from all corners of his lands to meet in grand council at his palace. Moctezuma dressed in regal splendor, his wand of office in his hand. Marina and Geronimo were there to see that the king spoke as Cortes wished, and his Spaniards were present with weapons at hand ready for the first indication that some kind of trap was being set for them. They knew that on this island city they were very vulnerable, for they could be cut off and isolated.

BOOK: Casca 10: The Conquistador
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