University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.
THE BANISHMENT OF GUATAMOZIN.

THE palace of Montezuma was regarded as of very great
sanctity, so that his household, its economy, and the
exact relation its members bore to each other were mysteries
to the public. From the best information, however, it would
seem that he had two lawful and acknowledged wives, the
queens Tecalco and Acatlan,[4] who, with their families, occupied

spacious apartments secure from intrusion. They were
good-looking, middle-aged women, whom the monarch honored
with the highest respect and confidence. By the first
one, he had a son and daughter; by the second, two
daughters.

“Help me, Acatlan! I appeal to your friendship, to
the love you bear your children, — help me in my trouble.”
So the queen Tecalco prayed the queen Acatlan in the palace
the morning after the audience given the Tezcucan by the
king.

The two were sitting in a room furnished with some taste.
Through the great windows, shaded by purple curtains,
streamed the fresh breath of the early day. There were
female slaves around them in waiting; while a boy nearly
grown, at the eastern end of the apartment, was pitching
the golden balls in totoloque. This was prince Io', the
brother of Tula, and son of Tecalco.

“What is the trouble? What can I do?” asked Acatlan.

“Listen to me,” said Tecalco. “The king has just gone.
He came in better mood than usual, and talked pleasantly.
Something had happened; some point of policy had been
gained. Nowadays, you know, he talks and thinks of nothing
but policy; formerly it was all of war. We cannot
deny, Acatlan, that he is much changed. Well, he played
a game with Io', then sat down, saying he had news which
he thought would please me. You will hardly believe it,
but he said that Iztlil', the proud Tezcucan, asked Tula in
marriage last night. Think of it! Tula, my blossom, my
soul! and to that vile cacique!”

“Well, he is brave, and the son of 'Hualpilli,” said
Acatlan.

“What! You!” said Tecalco, despairingly. “Do you,
too, turn against me? I do not like him, and would not if
he were the son of a god. Tula hates him!”

“I will not turn against you, Tecalco. Be calmer, and
tell me what more the king said.”

“I told him I was surprised, but not glad to hear the
news. He frowned, and paced the floor, now here, now
there. I was frightened, but could bear his anger better
than the idea of my Tula, so good, so beautiful, the wife of
the base Tezcucan. He said the marriage must go on; it
was required by policy, and would help quiet the Empire,
which was never so threatened. You will hardly believe I
ventured to tell him that it should not be, as Tula was
already contracted to Guatamozin. I supposed that announcement
would quiet the matter, but it only enraged
him; he spoke bitterly of the 'tzin. I could scarcely believe
my ears. He used to love him. What has happened to
change his feeling?”

Acatlan thrummed her pretty mouth with her fingers, and
thought awhile.

“Yes, I have heard some stories about the 'tzin —”

“Indeed!” said Tecalco, opening her eyes.

“He too has changed, as you may have observed,” continued
Acatlan. “He used to be gay and talkative, fond of
company, and dance; latterly, he stays at home, and when
abroad, mopes, and is silent; while we all know that no
great private or public misfortune has happened him. The
king appears to have noticed it. And, my dear sister,” —
the queen lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, —
“they say the 'tzin aspires to the throne.”

“What! Do you believe it? Does the king?” cried
Tecalco, more in anger than surprise.

“I believe nothing yet, though there are some grounds
for his accusers to go upon. They say he entertains at his
palace near Iztapalapan none but men of the army, and that
while in Tenochtitlan, he studies the favor of the people, and
uses his wealth to win popularity with all classes. Indeed,

Tecalco, somehow the king learned that, on the day of the
celebration of Quetzal', the 'tzin was engaged in a direct
conspiracy against him.”

“It is false, Acatlan, it is false! The king has not a
more faithful subject. I know the 'tzin. He is worth a
thousand of the Tezcucan, who is himself the traitor.” And
the vexed queen beat the floor with her sandalled foot.

“As to that, Tecalco, I know nothing. But what more
from the king?”

“He told me that Tula should never marry the 'tzin; he
would use all his power against it; he would banish him
from the city first. And his rage increased until, finally, he
swore by the gods he would order a banquet, and, in presence
of all the lords of the Empire, publicly betroth Tula and
the Tezcucan. He said he would do anything the safety of
the throne and the gods required of him. He never was so
angry. And that, O Acatlan, my sister, that is my trouble.
How can I save my child from such a horrid betrothal?”

Acatlan shook her head gloomily. “The king brooks defeat
better than opposition. We would not be safe to do
anything openly. I acknowledge myself afraid, and unable
to advise you.”

Tecalco burst into tears, and wrung her hands, overcome
by fear and rage. Io' then left his game, and came to her.
He was not handsome, being too large for his years, and ungraceful;
this tendency to homeliness was increased by the
smallness of his face and head; the features were actually
childish.

“Say no more, mother,” he said, tears standing in his
eyes, as if to prove his sympathy and kindliness. “You
know it would be better to play with the tigers than stir the
king to anger.”

“Ah, Io', what shall I do? I always heard you speak
well of the 'tzin. You loved him once.”

“And I love him yet.”

Tecalco was less pacified than ever.

“What would I not give to know who set the king so
against him! Upon the traitor be the harm there is in a
mother's curse! If my child must be sacrificed, let it be by
a priest, and as a victim to the gods.”

“Do not speak so. Be wise, Tecalco. Recollect such
sorrows belong to our rank.”

“Our rank, Acatlan! I can forget it sooner than that I
am a mother! O, you do not know how long I have
nursed the idea of wedding Tula to the 'tzin! Since their
childhood I have prayed, plotted, and hoped for it. With
what pride I have seen them grow up, — he so brave, generous,
and princely, she so staid and beautiful! I have never
allowed her to think of other destiny: the gods made them
for each other.”

“Mother,” said Io', thoughtfully, “I have heard you say
that Guatamozin was wise. Why not send him word of
what has happened, and put our trust in him?”

The poor queen caught at the suggestion eagerly; for with
a promise of aid, at the same time it relieved her of responsibility,
of all burthens the most dreadful to a woman. And
Acatlan, really desirous of helping her friend, but at a
loss for a plan, and terrified by the idea of the monarch's
wrath incurred, wondered they had not thought of the proposal
sooner, and urged the 'tzin's right to be informed of
the occurrence.

“There must be secrecy, Tecalco. The king must never
know us as traitors: that would be our ruin.”

“There shall be no danger; I can go myself,” said Io'.
“It is long since I was at Iztapalapan, and they say the 'tzin
has such beautiful gardens. I want to see the three kings
who hold torches in his hall; I want to try a bow with
him.”

After some entreaty, Tecalco assented. She required him,
however, to put on a costume less likely to attract attention,
and take some other than a royal canoe across the lake.
Half an hour later, he passed out of a garden gate, and, by
a circuitous route, hurried to the canal in which lay the vessels
of the Iztapalapan watermen. He found one, and was
bargaining with its owner, when a young man walked briskly
up, and stepped into a canoe close by. Something in the
gay dress of the stranger made Io' look at him a second
time, and he was hardly less pleased than surprised at being
addressed, —

“Ho, friend! I am going to your city. Save your cocoa,
and go with me.”

Io' was confused.

“Come on!” the stranger persisted, with a pleasant smile.
“Come on! I want company. You were never so welcome.”

The smile decided the boy. He set one foot in the vessel,
but instantly retreated — an ocelot, crouched in the bottom,
raised its round head, and stared fixedly at him. The
stranger laughed, and reassured him, after which he walked
boldly forward. Then the canoe swung from its mooring,
and in a few minutes, under the impulsion of three strong
slaves, went flying down the canal. Under bridges, through
incoming flotillas, and past the great houses on either hand
they darted, until the city was left behind, and the lake,
colored with the borrowed blue of the sky, spread out rich
and billowy before them. The eyes of the stranger brightened
at the prospect.

“I like this. By Our Mother, I like it!” he said, earnestly.
“We have lakes in Tihuanco on which I have spent
days riding waves and spearing fish; but they were dull to
this. See the stretch of the water! Look yonder at the
villages, and here at the city and Chapultepec! Ah, that

you were born in Tenochtitlan be proud. There is no
grander birthplace this side of the Sun!”

“I am an Aztec,” said Io', moved by the words.

The other smiled, and added, “Why not go further, and
say, `and son of the king?'”

Io' was startled.

“Surprised! Good prince, I am a hunter. From habit, I
observe everything; a track, a tree, a place, once seen is never
forgotten; and since I came to the city, the night before the
combat of Quetzal', the habit has not left me. That day
you were seated under the red canopy, with the princesses
Tula and Nenetzin. So I came to know the king's son.”

“Then you saw the combat?”

“And how brave it was! There never was its match, —
never such archery as the 'tzin's. Then the blow with which
he killed the Othmi! I only regretted that the Tezcucan
escaped. I do not like him; he is envious and spiteful; it
would have been better had he fallen instead of the Otompan.
You know Iztlil'?”

“Not to love him,” said Io'.

“Is he like the 'tzin?”

“Not at all.”

“So I have heard,” said the hunter, shrugging his shoulders.
“But — Down, fellow!” he cried to the ocelot, whose
approaches discomposed the prince. “I was going to say,”
he resumed, with a look which, as an invitation to confidence,
was irresistible, “that there is no reason why you and I
should not be friends. We are both going to see the
'tzin —”

Io' was again much confused.

“I only heard you say so to the waterman on the landing.
If your visit, good prince, was intended as a secret, you are
a careless messenger. But have no fear. I intend entering
the 'tzin's service; that is, if he will take me.”

“Is the 'tzin enlisting men?” asked Io'.

“No. I am merely weary of hunting. My father is a
good merchant whose trading life is too tame for me. I love
excitement. Even hunting deer and chasing wolves are too
tame. I will now try war, and there is but one whom I
care to follow. Together we will see and talk to him.”

“You speak as if you were used to arms.”

“My skill may be counted nothing. I seek the service
more from what I imagine it to be. The march, the camp,
the battle, the taking captives, the perilling life, when it is
but a secondary object, as it must be with every warrior of
true ambition, all have charms for my fancy. Besides, I am
discontented with my condition. I want honor, rank, and
command, — wealth I have. Hence, for me, the army is the
surest road. Beset with trials, and needing a good heart
and arm, yet it travels upward, upward, and that is all I
seek to know.”

The naïveté and enthusiasm of the hunter were new and
charming to the prince, who was impelled to study him once
more. He noticed how exactly the arms were rounded;
that the neck was long, muscular, and widened at the base,
like the trunk of an oak; that the features, excited by the
passing feeling, were noble and good; that the very carriage
of the head was significant of aptitude for brave things,
if not command. Could the better gods have thrown Io' in
such company for self-comparison? Was that the time they
had chosen to wake within him the longings of mind natural
to coming manhood? He felt the inspiration of an
idea new to him. All his life had been passed in the splendid
monotony of his father's palace; he had been permitted
merely to hear of war, and that from a distance; of the
noble passion for arms he knew nothing. Accustomed to
childish wants, with authority to gratify them, ambition for
power had not yet disturbed him. But, as he listened, it

was given him to see the emptiness of his past life, and
understand the advantages he already possessed; he said
to himself, “Am I not master of grade and opportunities,
so coveted by this unknown hunter, and so far above his
reach?” In that moment the contentment which had canopied
his existence, like a calm sky, full of stars and silence
and peace, was taken up, and whirled away; his spirit
strengthened with a rising ambition and a courage royally
descended.

“You are going to study with the 'tzin. I would like to
be your comrade,” he said.

“I accept you, I give you my heart!” replied the
hunter, with beaming face. “We will march, and sleep, and
fight, and practise together. I will be true to you as shield
to the warrior. Hereafter, O prince, when you would speak
of me, call me Hualpa; and if you would make me happy,
say of me, `He is my comrade!'”

The sun stood high in the heavens when they reached
the landing. Mounting a few steps that led from the
water's edge, they found themselves in a garden rich with
flowers, beautiful trees, running streams, and trellised summer-houses,
— the garden of a prince, — of Guatamozin, the
true hero of his country.