No Job for a Lady (10 page)

“Montezuma was the Aztec emperor at the time of the conquest. The Fates bestowed upon him the misfortune to reign at a time when the Spanish arrived armed with strange weapons and astride great beasts we call horses. However, the tale of this misfortunate emperor and his treasure begins much earlier.

“At the time of Christ, the largest city in the western hemisphere, the center of a powerful empire and a metropolis that rivaled ancient Rome in size, was about thirty miles northeast of the current site of Mexico City. As a matter of fact, it is a place that all three of you should see. It is the largest site of archaeological interest in all the Americas and has two magnificent pyramids, the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon. The pyramid dedicated to the sun god is only a hair smaller than the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. The edifices are a beautiful sight to behold—breathtaking, I must say.”

“Are the pyramids still standing? Can you climb them?” I ask.

He gives me a smile. “Yes, you can climb them. The larger one is taller than a skyscraper and has stone steps that go all the way to the top. I commonly refer to the city as ‘Teo’ for short, but its name is Teotihuacán. That, of course, is not Spanish, but Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs. It might surprise you, but the Aztec tongue is still spoken in many rural areas. In that language, Teotihuacán means ‘City of the Gods.’

“No one knows the real name of the city or even the name or culture of the civilization that built it. It is one of the world’s great ancient mysteries. We don’t even know why this largest city ever built on the American continent before Columbus was abandoned by its people, who left behind not just pyramids that violate the very heavens but also other temples and structures. The ruins have been ravaged by time, but those that remain are awe-inspiring.”

Listening to the diplomat, I am amazed and confounded that such magnificence from the past lies so close to my country and that it is so ignored in our history books.

“Teo became a ghost city,” Don Antonio says, “not only because its own people abandoned it nearly a thousand years before the Spanish conquest but also because the city struck fear in those who came there. Even the mighty Aztecs, whose powerful legions terrorized any kingdom that resisted its power, so feared the city that they never occupied the site. They sensed dark magic at the huge pyramids and temples along the broad boulevard that we call ‘the Avenue of the Dead.’”

“Dark magic? Is that because of the human sacrifices the pre-Columbian civilizations practiced?” I ask.

Don Antonio gives a sigh. I sense it is the diplomat in him wanting to avoid a negative subject.

“No. All the Mesoamerican civilizations conducted blood sacrifices to the gods. The ancient gods of Mexico were a terrifying, bloodthirsty lot and the civilizations that came after the fall of Teo believed not only that the city was the home of these fearsome deities but that the gods had destroyed Teo because its people had not carried out the blood covenant to their satisfaction.”

“What is the blood covenant?” I ask.

“Uncle, please let me explain; it’s in my studies, and I’ve always wondered if the facts are correct. You know how things can get altered when put in a book, even by scholars.”

Gertrude has such excitement in her voice, it just draws you into whatever she says.

“Please do, my dear.”

Her face lights up and she makes sure to look at each of us. “The ancient Americans believed that the gods kept powerful forces like storms and volcanic fire from destroying them. The gods also provided the sunshine, rain, seed, and everything else needed to grow crops. They also believed that the gods required blood as their reward for these services. The gods needed blood to stay strong and protect the people.”

“So the blood covenant,” says Roger, joining in, “was the promise of the people to supply blood to the gods in return for services. A contract between mankind and a pantheon of gods.”

“Exactly,” Don Antonio says.

“How does Montezuma’s treasure fit into the scheme of things?” I ask.

It’s Gertrude who answers. “The gullible emperor was taken captive by Cortés, not in battle, but when Montezuma permitted the Spaniard into the Aztec capital city with his army. Montezuma was repaid for his hospitality to the Spanish by being made a prisoner in his own palace.

“Even before he was held prisoner, Montezuma gave Cortés and his men an unimaginable amount of gold and silver in the form of sculptures of animals and other treasures. The riches meant little to the emperor, but all these incredible gifts only made the conquistadors want more.”

“I’m not surprised,” Roger says. “People always want more; they are never satisfied.”

“So true,” Don Antonio murmurs. “The conquistadors imprisoned Montezuma, looted his palace, and terrorized the city, torturing and killing women, children, and men—whoever stood in their way or threatened them. I say this despite the fact that I am proud of the Spanish blood that runs in my veins.”

“That’s horrible,” I say.

“That’s life,” Roger replies.

I give him a quick look. He definitely has a caustic view of the motives of people, but probably an accurate one, at that.

Don Antonio continues. “Eventually, the Aztecs rose up against Cortés and his men. They even attacked their emperor, stoning him to death when he stepped onto his palace balcony to address them.”

“Why?” I ask.

“They blamed Montezuma.”

“But didn’t they all welcome Cortés?”

“Yes, but they were rightfully angry. Montezuma had a huge army but didn’t use it to defeat Cortés because he believed the Spaniard fulfilled the prophecy of a god returning to claim his empire. After Cortés’s men committed atrocities in the city, the Aztecs rebelled against the Spanish and their
indio
allies. The bloody battle raged through the night as Cortés’s army was driven out of the city. So many men were killed, it’s said one could walk across the city’s canals on the backs of the dead.

“The decisive battle did not take place in the Aztec capital, which Mexico City was later built atop, but … where?” Don Antonio pauses and smiles, directing the question at Roger, the scholar.

The question appears to catch Roger off guard. “Where? Why don’t we let Gertrude answer that. I’m sure it’s an important piece of historical information she found in her studies.”

“Otumba,” Gertrude states proudly. “Cortés had retreated there to regroup.”

“Yes,” Don Antonio says, “and this is where we return to Teotihuacán and Montezuma’s treasure. Otumba is near Teo. Cortés may have even had lookouts on the pyramids, keeping watch for the Aztec army.”

“Cortés won the battle at Otumba?” I ask.

“Yes, he won the battle and others, but Otumba was the one that truly broke the back of the Aztec Empire.”

“I assume that Montezuma’s treasure refers to the emperor’s vast wealth,” I say. “But if Montezuma was dead before the last battles were fought, how could he have buried his treasure?”

“He didn’t. And your assumption is incorrect. Montezuma’s treasure does not refer to the emperor’s personal horde of jewels and gold, but to something even more valuable.”

15

“I don’t understand,” Roger says. “There’s a well-known legend that Montezuma left a hidden treasure and that there are those who seek it even today.”

“
Sí,
so the tale goes. But like so many stories of treasure maps, more gold has changed hands acquiring the so-called maps than the treasures they are supposed to lead to. You must remember not only that Montezuma was dead by the time the Aztecs were defeated but that the greatest treasure of all, according to Europeans, was not in Montezuma’s palace.”

I put in my opinion. “Gold is how we value treasure.”

“Exactly. And in terms of how Europeans value wealth, the single most valuable thing in the Aztec Empire was a large solid-gold disk dedicated to the sun god. It sat atop the Pyramid of the Sun at Teo. And it vanished immediately after the battle at Otumba.”

“Who took it?” I ask.

Don Antonio shrugs. “No one knows, but one thing is certain: It was not the Spanish. The disk was taller than a man and is said to have weighed thousands of pounds. Cortés had no equipment to move such a heavy object quickly and he had only a few horses. Besides, he was preoccupied with the final battles to subdue the Aztecs and capture their capital.”

“The Aztecs didn’t have beasts of burden, either. There were no horses, donkeys, or other beasts of burden at all in the New World before the conquest,” Gertrude adds. “So how did the Aztecs move such a heavy object?”

“With the same techniques they used to get the disk to the top of a pyramid over two hundred feet tall. The pyramids themselves are composed of thousands of great blocks of stone, each weighing tons. And like the Egyptians and other ancient societies, they had almost endless labor available and clever ways of moving enormous objects. Sadly and amazingly, what they did with their hands we now require large pieces of complex machinery to do,” says Don Antonio.

“So it’s most probable that the Aztecs themselves moved it to keep it from the Spanish,” Roger says.

“
Sí.
There is no doubt that many individual treasures were hidden after the fall of the empire by wealthy
indios.
And later, many an Aztec nobleman had his feet held over a hot fire to make him reveal where he had stashed his treasures. But the legendry treasure that has been sought since the conquest, the one referred to as ‘Montezuma’s gold,’ is the gold disk of the sun god.”

“It wouldn’t have gone far, would it?” Roger asks.

“Señor?” Don Antonio looks at him, puzzled, as do I and Gertrude.

“Well, it just stands to reason when getting something that big down from the top of a pyramid, you have the help of gravity. But once it’s on the ground, moving it would be much slower. With a war going on and all, it just makes sense to me that it was hidden somewhere in the vicinity of the pyramids. At least that’s my uninformed opinion.”

“Sounds reasonable.” I clap my hands. “What an interesting story.”

“Isn’t it?” Gertrude says. “And people still believe it to this day.”

“What do you think, Don Antonio?” Roger asks. “Is the treasure still out there, ready to be found when the right rock is turned over?”

“Who knows, señor. I only wish my Aztec ancestors had left me a map. The problem with old tales about treasures is that they never seem to be found, although on rare occasions a lucky farmer digs up something of value that was hurriedly buried as the Spanish advanced.”

“But isn’t there evidence that supports the fact that Montezuma’s treasure exists?” I ask.

“What evidence are you referring to, señorita?”

“Well, first of all, if the gold disk existed it would be worth a king’s ransom. Is that correct?”

“For a certainty. The golden disk appears in pre-conquest Aztec codices—books of picture writing, hieroglyphics.”

“And it’s true that the Spanish didn’t find it?”

“A certainty. Cortés had over five hundred soldiers, all of whom were as greedy for treasure as he was. This much gold could not have been kept secret. And although the conquistadors each got a share of the treasure, the lion’s share went to the king in Madrid. Cortés’s entire small army would have ended up on the rack, and then the hangman, had they cheated the king out of the biggest Aztec treasure of all.”

“And I assume that an Aztec or any one suddenly possessing great wealth after the conquest would have been highly noticeable to the Spanish. The fact that it was there, then gone, and that no one knows what happened to it, seems to imply that it is still out there somewhere.”

“Very well put, Nellie.” Don Antonio gives me a smile. “And, if you are interested in finding it yourself, I can assure you that when you venture out on to the streets of Mexico City, a street peddler will offer to sell you a map that shows the location of the treasure.

“In my opinion, it will remain hidden for eternity because those who know its location are long dead. For sure, the Aztec nobleman who directed its removal and hiding would have had most of the laborers killed after they completed the task, thus eliminating most who knew the secret. Frankly, it is one of those legends that excite treasure hunters much more than historians.”

Food interrupts our discussion. To my surprise, there are no refried beans, tortillas, or peppers. On my plate is brandied goose, accompanied by creamy mashed potatoes and asparagus hollandaise. In Cochran’s Mills, they’d call it “French fixin’s.”

Don Antonio picks up on the confusion that my face must be revealing.

“Ah, señorita, you thought you would have an authentic Mexican meal, did you not?”

“Well, yes, I did.”

“Actually, what you are having
is
an authentic Mexican meal. French food is very common in Mexico, more so than it is north of the border, except for Louisiana perhaps. It was introduced to our culture literally by cannons and muskets. It’s only been about twenty years since my country was occupied by French troops. Do you know about our history with the French?”

“A little. I believe a European prince, Maximilian, was placed on the Mexican throne due to the machinations of Napoléon the Third and a group of Mexican leaders.”

“Yes, and while the emperor was disposed of by a firing squad, the taste for French cuisine, at least by the more affluent of our citizens, remained.”

Helpless, I throw up my hands in surrender. “And I have already developed a fond taste for corn tortillas with beans, cheese, and peppers.”

They all laugh.

“Don’t feel bad, Nellie,” Don Antonio says, “beans and corn are the basic foods of most of my countrymen, but frankly, it is the food of the common people. Those with a higher level of lifestyle dine more frequently on meat and potatoes with baked bread. You’ll find tortillas and beans in the marketplace rather than in restaurants.”

My mind is spinning about the story of the golden disk of the sun god all the way through a Mexican dessert—a creamy, rich orange-scented custard with a golden syrupy topping of caramelized sugar. I can’t wait to get back to my journal and jot down the whole tale. But before I send it in, I will get one of those treasure maps Don Antonio mentioned, so I can include it in my story.