Aztec Century (27 page)

I felt more comfortable here than in the temple precinct. It was more spacious, more securely dead and historic; and, of course, we had come during daylight.

This time I did agree to accompany Extepan to the top of the enormous Pyramid of the Sun. We zig-zagged slowly up the great stone steps under the fierce morning heat, a climb I found exhausting and terrifying. It was hard to get my breath in the thin air, and I had to pause frequently on the vertiginous terraces.

Finally we reached the top and looked out over a dry landscape already blurred with heat-haze. My heart was still pounding from the climb.

Presently Extepan said, ‘I’ve enjoyed these days we have had together, Catherine. Alas, tomorrow I must return to my duties.’

There had been no mention of me returning to London, but I thought perhaps he was suggesting that the time had come. I said as much.

‘No, no,’ he insisted, ‘there’s no need for you to go. I have to leave Tenochtitlan, but I hope to be gone only a short time. My father wishes me to visit Precious Cloud’s family and pay my respects to her father. Understandably, he is grieved at her death, and we may have lost the confidence of his peoples. This could have repercussions for our northern frontier.’

I sensed he was trying to say something else. On an instinct, I said, ‘Do you want me to go with you?’

He took my hands in his, smiling and shaking his head. ‘No As much as I would like that, it would not be appropriate.’ He paused. ‘But there is another proposal I would like to make to you.’

I already knew what he was going to say.

‘I ask you again to consider becoming my wife.’

I was still giddy from the climb, still drained and powerless, wanting, yet not wanting, to turn away from him.

‘This hardly seems the time …’

‘It’s just the right time, Catherine. My father wants me married, and Cuauhtemoc needs a mother. But those aren’t the main reasons. You were always my first choice.’

‘Because I’m Richard’s sister?’

‘Of course not. You know it’s not that.’

He held my hands tightly. I was frantically searching my mind for evasions, excuses.

‘What about Mia?’

‘Mia?’

‘She’s been at your side for years. She’s caring for Cuauhtemoc. You’ve always been close. I think she would be more than happy to marry you.’

‘It wouldn’t be possible, even if I wanted it.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s not from the nobility. It wouldn’t be acceptable to our people.’

‘Surely it’s in Motecuhzoma’s power to ennoble her? Some of his ancestors married the daughters of slaves and commoners, didn’t they?’

‘Not as their principal wives. And I do not intend to take more than one.’

‘You’d prefer to keep her as your mistress, perhaps?’

This was cheap of me, I knew. Extepan looked hurt rather than angry.

‘You must be very fond of her,’ I said hastily. ‘You’ve kept her in your household for so long.’

‘You seem equally attached to Bevan.’

‘Bevan?’

‘Don’t you think there have not been rumours? He, the only member of your household staff? With his own door to your apartments? The private conversations you always have?’

It was a measure of my
naïveté
that I had never considered this.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing like that between us.

‘I’m prepared to believe you,’ he replied. ‘Perhaps you will also allow me the same courtesy of believing that I have never wanted Mia as my wife. I have asked
you
. For the second time.’

In the distant fields beyond the ruins, farmers were harvesting
maguey plants, just as Mexicans had done for centuries, long before Europeans discovered the New World. Some facts of life were unchanging, inescapable.

‘If you refuse me this time,’ Extepan said calmly, ‘I shall never ask you again. But you must believe that it is you, and not your status, that I want.’

‘Am I to take it that you’ve discussed this with your father?’

‘I told him I was intending to ask you again. That was one of the reasons why he wanted to meet you. He likes you, Catherine. He approves of you. He’s given my proposal his blessing.’

My mind was reeling. Extepan was at his most earnest, and he would not let go of my hands. Atop the pyramid we were isolated, and I knew he had chosen his moment very carefully, giving me no easy opportunity for physical escape. But I was determined to balk him.

‘It would hardly go well for you with Matogee if you arrived there newly betrothed.’

He merely held me closer. ‘That is why it would have to remain secret until my negotiations were complete. But I needed to ask you now, before I went. I need an answer to take away with me, Catherine, for better or worse.’

A breeze had sprung up, bringing some respite to the relentless midday heat. All around me were dust and ruins and hazy mountains. I felt as if much of my former life had been stripped away, that I stood there without obligations or burdens except those I chose myself. It seemed to me then that I had grown towards Extepan, that perhaps our lives had been on this very collision course ever since we first met.

Looking into his eyes, I said, ‘Very well.’

It was a second before he said, ‘Is that an answer? Are you saying yes?’

‘On one condition. No, two.’

‘Tell me what they are.’

‘I’d like Victoria to be freed from exile.’

He let his hands fall from mine.

‘I can’t promise that.’

‘I’d accept it as a possibility. As something you’d try to achieve.’

His eyes were narrowed against the glare of the sun. ‘If it’s
possible, I’ll do what I can. But this cannot be a condition of our betrothal.’

He was quietly adamant. Suddenly I was anxious that, if I pressed him, he might easily withdraw his proposal altogether. How swiftly the tables were turned.

‘That’s all I ask,’ I said.

‘What else? You mentioned two conditions.’

Again I hesitated. Could I risk it? I had no choice. If we were to be married, I wanted no secrets between us.

I stepped back, giving myself space. Then I proceeded to tell him about my encounter with Zacatlatoa on the day of Richard’s wedding and our investigation of the Quetzalcoatl structure in Crystal Palace Park. I omitted nothing except for Bevan’s indirect involvement in the affair.

I couldn’t tell whether he was shocked or already suspected I had links with anti-Aztec forces: his expression gave away nothing. I told him precisely what I had seen and felt inside the building, and then finally I said, ‘I’d like to know what it is. What it’s for.’

There was another long silence, but he did not take his eyes off my face. At last he said, ‘You have my word of honour that when we are married, I’ll tell you everything about it. I swear it. When we’re married. But not before.’

Once again I felt he had gained the upper hand. I had asked for information, and he had given me a promise. Was this enough? Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was unreasonable of me to expect more, given his position and my past record as an opponent of Aztec power. Perhaps he still mistrusted me a little. Perhaps he was right to do so.

‘Very well,’ I said again. ‘I accept your proposal and also your promise.’

He looked almost startled, as if he hadn’t really believed I would ever say yes. He smiled, then raised my hands and touched my knuckles to his lips. Finally he leaned forward and kissed me once, very delicately, on the cheek. Taking my hand again, he led me forward to the edge of the temple’s precipitous steps.

‘Please be careful,’ he said softly. ‘It is much harder going down.’

On our return to Chapultepec, Extepan escorted me to my apartment. He left me at the door, saying he would call early the following morning so that we could present ourselves to his father. His manner was very correct, as it had been ever since I had agreed to marry him.

I had no sooner gone inside than Bevan appeared from his room. He was wearing a maize-coloured sombrero with a navy sash carrying the words
VIVA CUEPOPAN
in white.

‘What do you think?’ he said.

‘Very elegant,’ I replied.

‘They slaughtered Chalco four–nil. It was a grudge match, according to Chicomeztli. He was over the moon.’

I was tired after my travels, preoccupied with the decision I had made.

‘Have a nice time, did you?’

I put my travelling bag on the bed. ‘Are you sneering?’

‘Not me. Extepan been showing you the sights, has he?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Very nice of him.’

Against my better instincts, I said, ‘We slept in separate rooms, in case you’re interested.’

Bevan eyed me from under his hat. Now he no longer looked jaunty but quite serious.

‘Fancy a breath of air?’

‘I’m tired,’ I said. ‘Can it wait?’

Bevan took off his sombrero. He was still watching me.

‘This is important.’

I gave a weary sigh. ‘I really am tired. Surely it can wait until the morning?’

Bevan played with his hat. ‘Thing is, I’m off again tomorrow. Crack of dawn. Chicomeztli’s organized a jaunt to Tehuantepec.’

‘Oh?’

‘Seven-a-side tournament. Lots of local colour.’

‘You and he are thick as thieves all of a sudden.’

He made light of it. ‘Gives me something to do, I’ll be gone a few days. Maybe a week.’

‘I didn’t know you were such a football fan.’

He spun the sombrero in his hand. ‘Don’t play rugby around here, do they?’

Was he making fun of me again? I was too exhausted to care.

‘That all right with you, then?’

‘Of course. You enjoy yourself.’

I opened my travelling bag, hoping he would take the hint. He didn’t move.

‘We need to have a chat before I go,’ he persisted.

There was an ominous emphasis in his voice, and it made me quail inwardly. I couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t bear to face something unexpected or revelatory now. Only six hours before I had made a commitment that was going to change my life dramatically.

Very cautiously I asked, ‘Is it about Extepan?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Then it will have to wait.’

‘You need to hear this.’

I rounded on him. ‘Bevan, I’m exhausted! Write it down for me if it’s so important. Leave me a note! All I want now is a hot bath and an early night.’

He, stood motionless, staring at me as if I were mad, as if he could not credit my stupidity. Then he shrugged.

‘Have it your way.’

He went off to his apartment without another word.

I sat in the bath for an hour or so, feeling guilty, knowing that my acceptance of Extepan’s proposal was my final surrender. I tried to pretend that I had sound strategic reasons for doing so: with Chimalcoyotl and Ixtlilpopoca dead, Extepan was now Motecuhzoma’s eldest son, with a good chance of succeeding his father when he died. Wouldn’t marriage to him put me in a position where I would be able to undermine the Aztec cause far
more effectively in future? What better hiding place for an enemy than in the very heart of their empire?

But I knew this was a spurious rationalization. When Extepan had asked me to marry him, all that had been in my mind at that instant was his face, his eyes, his hands holding mine, the
frisson
of finally surrendering to the forbidden. Only Richard was likely to be pleased; it would be impossible to explain to anyone at home without feeling like a traitor.

Extepan led me through into the council chamber.

It was a large room of carved cedar pillars and terracotta walls, hung with portraits in gilt frames of Aztec rulers and military leaders. Sunlight lanced in through crystalline louvres set in the sloping ceiling, throwing bands of light on the big oval mahogany table at its centre.

All the high-backed chairs around the table were empty. Only Motecuhzoma sat in his white
icpalli
at the head of the table, with Tetzahuitl standing at his shoulder.

Motecuhzoma was dressed as informally as when I had previously met him, though Tetzahuitl wore a dark green cloak with a border of wind jewels. His headdress was a coronet of scarlet macaw feathers.

I was led forward, and Extepan and I bowed as one before the
tlatoani
and the
cihuacoatl
.

‘What is your petition?’ Motecuhzoma said.

‘Yesterday I made Princess Catherine a proposal of marriage,’ Extepan replied formally. ‘I am honoured to say she has accepted. We ask your blessing and approval for the union.’

There seemed to be a long silence. I fought the urge to look up.

‘It is granted. Rise.’

We straightened. Tetzahuitl took my left hand and put it into Extepan’s right. He pressed our fingers together, his palm as dry as paper against the back of my hand.

Motecuhzoma was gazing straight at me, a half-smile on his face. Then he looked serious.

‘I trust you freely agreed to my son’s proposal?’

It seemed an odd thing to say, having already given his blessing.

I nodded. ‘I would not be here otherwise.’

‘Then I’m greatly pleased for you both. Do you have gifts to exchange?’

‘We do,’ Extepan said.

He had already prepared me for this, a standard ritual of betrothal. I had chosen an amber ring which I had originally bought in Tlatelolco as a keepsake. Extepan gave me a bead necklace of obsidian and jade. The presents were meant to be simple, symbolizing a promise and the potential fruitfulness of marriage.

I wondered what Motecuhzoma and the ever-impassive Tetzahuitl were thinking. Only the four of us were apparently to know about the betrothal, for the time being at least. I was happy with this; it gave me more room for manoeuvre should I change my mind.

Once all the formalities were complete, Motecuhzoma asked Extepan and Tetzahuitl to leave so that he could talk briefly to me alone.

‘In our lives there are always choices to be made,’ he remarked to me when they were gone. ‘And these choices assume a greater significance when one sits close to the centre of power.’

He steered his chair around the table, coming closer to me.

‘Did Extepan tell you I’ve nominated him as my successor?’

I was surprised both by the fact and its admission.

‘I asked him not to, of course. But I didn’t demand it of him.’

‘He didn’t mention it, I promise you.’

He was now so close I could smell the odour which clung to him – a sweet, medicinal odour, the odour of invalidity and age. It seemed strange to me at that moment that he should be reduced to this, a wizened figure wrapped in woollen blankets, a man who bestrode the world yet could scarcely rise from his chair.

‘It matters neither way,’ he went on. ‘In any case, the succession isn’t guaranteed. When the time comes, it will be Tetzahuitl and the
tlatocan
who will decide the issue. I will just be a ghost, a memory.’

‘Assuming Tetzahuitl outlives you,’ I remarked.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said, almost lightly. ‘Assuming that.’

‘Does Extepan have many serious rivals?’

‘There are always rivals when a succession isn’t guaranteed by strict rules of descent. Maxixca, of course.’ He mentioned several other names, cousins of Extepan, prominent members of the
tlatocan
, even one of his sons by an
auianime
who had married a Hispaniolan princess.

‘If he outlives you,’ I said, ‘then perhaps Tetzahuitl will set a precedent by becoming
tlatoani
.’

Motecuhzoma smiled at this. No
cihuacoatl
in the past had ever ascended to the Turquoise Throne, both positions of power operating as separate but parallel dynasties which had worked together with remarkable cohesion for hundreds of years. But with Tetzahuitl being the last of his line, he might be tempted to seize the opportunity to become sovereign.

‘I think not,’ Motecuhzoma said. ‘We’re both old men now. My reign has been a long one, and when it ends young blood will be needed at the helm – young blood tempered, of course, with wisdom. Tetzahuitl understands this. He’s always worked for the interests of Mexico as a whole.’

I wasn’t sure I shared his faith in the
cihuacoatl
, but I didn’t contradict him.

‘Would you say Extepan has his share of wisdom?’

‘More so than some of his rivals,’ I replied, again pointedly refraining from mentioning Maxixca by name. ‘My father always used to tell us that co-operation and restraint were the handmaidens of firmness. I think it’s a principle Extepan understands.’

Again the
tlatoani
smiled. ‘It’s a good maxim, and one your father followed in his own lifetime. I’ve tried to do the same, though turning the other cheek or offering the hand of friendship didn’t come easy to me as a young man. Of course, age mellows us all.’

I had the sense that he was leading up to something, and I waited.

‘You will need to protect his interests as well as your own,’ he said. ‘Be prudent. Be careful. When I married Doña Maria, there was great opposition from many of my people. They disliked the idea of a European becoming my consort – they felt that it set a precedent which would lead to the dilution of our race with the blood of foreigners. As if that was a
bad
thing! As if races are so pure!’ He shook his head. ‘There are many ‘who
still hold to that view. You must beware of them. They won’t take kindly to your presence here, even as Extepan’s wife.’

‘Are you saying that my life might be in danger?’

He mopped his mouth with a crumpled handkerchief. ‘Hardly. You are a princess. Expect difficulties, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t imagine that every courtesy means liking or even acceptance.’

I was thinking of Maxixca, Tetzahuitl, and even Mia and Cocomicihuatl, none of whom had any reason to be favourably disposed towards me. It was a warning I barely needed.

‘Enough,’ said Motecuhzoma. ‘I mustn’t sour the atmosphere of this occasion by hedging it with uncertainties. There is much for us all to celebrate. Let us rejoin your future husband.’

That evening, I accompanied Extepan to Azcapotzalco for his flight north. He was due to meet with Matogee and other leaders at the Sioux capital the following day.

‘How long do you think you’ll be away?’ I asked him.

‘A week. No more than two, I hope. The negotiations will be delicate. There are fences to be mended. The New English and the Canadians would like to see them torn down.’

‘It’s strange,’ I said, ‘I feel like a traitor, wanting you to succeed. Canada and New England used to be our colonies, and their peoples still have many ties with my country.’

Paradoxically, it was the Aztecs who had assisted both in their wars of independence from Britain, doubtless hoping eventually to subsume the two states in their own empire. The confederation between the two was a loose one, but the Aztecs had been unable to undermine it. Economically prosperous and independent in their foreign policies, they were now the only real impediment to worldwide Aztec domination.

‘They aren’t my enemies,’ Extepan said to me. ‘We want peace above all else. But it would be foolish to allow unstable conditions on our longest frontier. That was Rome’s mistake.’

I was startled by this. But he was smiling.

‘My father’s words,’ he told me. ‘He often quotes the examples of past empires.’

‘Does he see himself as another Augustus?’

Extepan kept smiling. ‘Well, he certainly doesn’t expect – or
want – to be deified after his death. But there are lessons in history for all of us. The past illuminates the present, he always says.’

I was silent. Extepan obviously sensed my unease.

‘He’s just a man, Catherine. A man of remarkable achievements, it’s true, but flesh and blood like you and me. In his heart, he’s quite humble. Didn’t you feel that when you talked to him?’

‘Yes,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s all right.’

It was my way of telling him I didn’t want to dwell on the subject. He grasped this immediately. He drew me to him and kissed me full on the lips.

It was our first real kiss, devoid of hesitancy or decorum. He smelt of sandalwood and his freshly laundered uniform; his cheeks were smooth against mine. I responded fully, putting my arms around his waist. He felt solid and real and human against me.

Extepan’s escort stood nearby, discreetly waiting for him. For a moment, we had both forgotten their presence. Would our secret now be out? It didn’t seem to matter at that moment.

Extepan’s ship, a fast-flying carrier, stood ready on the landing strip. Reluctantly he disengaged himself from me.

‘Take care,’ I said.

‘I shall.’ A final squeeze of my hand. ‘You must do the same.’

Extepan had obviously left instructions that I be kept occupied during his absence, because the next day I was flown to Acapulco in the company of Mia, Cuauhtemoc and Extepan’s eldest sister, Citlalxauhqui. We stayed for two days, visiting the set of a new epic movie,
Aztec Century
, which was being made to celebrate Motecuhzoma’s reign. We were shown rushes and went on location near Coyuca to see preparations for the restaging of the battle of Jerusalem in 1967.

I was ill at ease during the visit, not simply because the studio executives carefully refrained from mentioning that the
tlatoani
’s armies had crushingly defeated British and pan-Arab forces in the battle; the picture offended me in a more general sense, being a blatant farrago of historical truth which simplified and glamorized, making pageantry out of blood and death. I was also
uncomfortable with Mia. Her oceanic calmness made matters worse, especially since Extepan had asked that I pay some attention to Cuauhtemoc, whose care I would assume when we married. Each time I asked to hold him, Mia surrendered him without protest, but I thought I detected suspicion and curiosity in her silence. Had she somehow divined that I was betrothed to her master?