Aztec Autumn

word-pictures on them, then announced to the room at large:

'This is a list of those citizens who abetted Yeyac in his nefarious activities—from marketplace stallkeepers to respectable merchants to prominent pochteca traders. I am pleased to find that only one man of this Speaking Council is named in the list. Tlamacazqui Colotic-Acatl, step forward.'

Of this man I have spoken earlier in this narrative. He was the priest of the god Huitzilopochtli, who, at the first news of the white men's arrival in The One World, had been so fearful of being deposed from his priesthood. Like all our tlamacazque, he had been unwashed all his life, and wore black robes that had never been cleaned. But now, even under its grimy crust, his face went pale and he trembled as he came forward.

I said, 'Why a priest of a Mexicatl god should turn traitor to that god's worshipers is beyond my understanding. Did you intend to convert to the white men's religion of Crixtanoyotl? Or did you simply hope to wheedle them into leaving you secure in your old priesthood? No, do not tell me. I pick my teeth at such as you.' I turned to the two warriors. 'Take this creature to the central square, not to any temple—he deserves not the honor of being a sacrifice, or of having an afterlife—and strangle him to death with the flower garland.'

They seized him and the priest went whimpering away with them, while the rest of the Council stood stunned.

'Hand these papers around among yourselves,' I told them. 'You tlatocapiltin of other communities will find names of persons in your own neighborhoods who either gave aid to Yeyac or received favors from him. My first demand is that you exterminate those persons. My second demand is that you comb the ranks of your own warriors and personal guards—Nocheztli here will assist you in that—and exterminate also any traitors among them.'

'It shall be done,' said Tototl, sounding rather more respectful of me now. 'I think I speak for the entire Council in saying that we concur unanimously in this action.'

Kevari asked, 'Have you any further demand, Tenamaxtzin?'

'Yes, one more. I want each of you tlatocapiltin to send to Aztlan every true and untainted warrior you have, and every able-bodied man who has been trained to be conscripted if necessary. I intend to integrate them into my own army.'

'Again, agreed,' said Teciuapil, tlatocapili of Tecuexe. 'But may we ask why?'

'Before I answer that,' I said, 'let me ask a question of my own. Who among you is now the Council's Rememberer of History?'

They all looked slightly uncomfortable at that, and there was a short silence. Then spoke a man who had not spoken before. He was also elderly—a prosperous merchant, to judge from his garb—but new to the Council since my time.

He said, 'When old Canautli, the previous Rememberer, died—I am told he was your great-grandfather, Tenamaxtzin—none other was appointed to take his place. Yeyac insisted that there was no need for a Rememberer because, he said, with the arrival of the white men, The One World's history had come to an end. Furthermore, said Yeyac, we would no longer count the passing years by sheaves of fifty-two, nor any longer observe the ceremony of lighting the New Fire to mark the start of each new sheaf. We would, he said, count our years as the white men do, in an unbroken sequence that began with a year numbered simply One—but began we know not how long ago.'

'Yeyac was wrong,' I said. 'There is still much history—and I intend to make more—for our historians to remember and record. That, to answer your earlier question, councillors, is why I want your warriors for my army.'

And I went on to tell them—as I had just told Ameyatl and, before her, Pakapeti and G'nda Ke and the late Citlali and the thunder-stick artisan Pochotl—of my plans to mount a rebellion against New Spain and take back all of The One World for our own. Like those others who had listened to me, these members of the Speaking Council looked impressed but incredulous, and one of them began to say:

'But, Tenamaxtzin, if even the mighty—'

I interrupted, with a snarl, 'The first man among you who tells me that I cannot succeed where 'even the mighty Mexica failed'—that man, however aged and wise and dignified, even decrepit though he may be—that man will be ordered to lead my first assault against the Spanish army. He will go at the front of my forces, at the very point, and he will go unarmed and unarmored!'

There was dead silence in the room.

'Then does the Speaking Council agree to support my proposed campaign?' Several of the members heaved a sigh, but they all nodded assent. 'Good,' I said.

I turned to that merchant who had informed me that there was no longer a Rememberer of History on the Council. 'Canautli no doubt left many books of word-pictures telling what occurred in all the sheaves of sheaves of years up to his own time. Study and memorize them. And I bid you do this, too. Commence a new book—with these words: 'On this day of Nine-Flower, in the month of the Sweeping of the Road, in the year Seven-House, the Uey- Tecutli Tenamaxtzin of Aztlan declared The One World's independence of Old Spain and began preparations for an insurrection against the unwelcome white overlords, in both New Spain and New Galicia, this plan having the consent and endorsement of his Speaking Council in assembly agreed.' '

The man promised, 'Your every word, Tenamaxtzin,' and he and the other councillors went their way.

Nocheztli, still in the room, said, 'Excuse me, my lord, but what shall be done with those warriors imprisoned in the goddess's temple? They are so crowded in there that they must take turns sitting down, and cannot lie down at all. They are also getting very hungry and thirsty.'

'They deserve worse than discomfort,' I said. 'But tell the guards to feed them—only atoli and water—and only a minimum of each. I want those men, when I am ready to put them to use, hungry for battle and thirsty for blood. Meanwhile, Nocheztli, I believe you said you have visited Compostela in Yeyac's company?'

'Yes, Tenamaxtzin.'

'Then I want you to visit there again, this time being a quimichi for me.' That word properly means 'mouse,' but we use it also to mean what the Spanish call an espion. 'Can I trust you to do that? To go there, secretly get information, and return here with it?'

'You can, my lord. I am alive only because of your sufferance, therefore my life is yours to command.'

'Then that is my command. The Spanish cannot yet have heard that they have lost their ally Yeyac. And since they already know you by sight, they will suppose you to be Yeyac's emissary, come on some errand.'

'I will carry gourds of our fermented coconut milk to sell. All the white men, high and low, are fond of getting drunk on it. That will be sufficient excuse for my visit. And what information would you wish me to gather?'

'Anything. Keep your eyes and ears open, and linger there as long as necessary. Find out for me, if you can, what the new Governor Coronado is like, and how many troops he now has stationed there, and how many other people—both Spanish and indio—now inhabit Compostela. Also be alert for any news or rumor or gossip of what is happening elsewhere in the Spanish lands. I will await your return before I send Yeyac's pack of disloyal warriors on their suicidal mission, and the outcome of that mission will largely depend on what information you bring back to me.'

'I go at once, my lord,' he said, and he did.

Next, I gave quick and desultory approval to all the would-be servants that G'nda Ke had gathered in the hall. I recognized a number of them from the old days, and I was sure that if any of the others had ever been in league with Yeyac, they would not now have dared to apply for service under my eye. From then on, we pipiltin of the palace—Ameyatl, Pakapeti, G'nda Ke and myself—were most assiduously attended and most sumptuously fed, and we never had to lift a finger to do anything that could be done for us. Though Ameyatzin now had a bevy of women to wait upon her, she and I both were pleased that Tiptoe insisted on continuing to be her closest personal handmaiden.

What time Tiptoe was not attending Ameyatl, she gladly passed in accompanying the warriors I sent to arrest and execute the Aztlan townsmen whose names had been on Nocheztli's bark papers. I gave no orders except 'execute them!' and I never bothered to find out what means the warriors employed—whether the flower- garland garrote or the sword or arrows or the knife that tears out the heart—or whether Tiptoe personally dispatched some of those men with one or another of the horrid methods she had mentioned to me. I simply did not care. Sufficient for me that all the property and possessions and wealth of those who died came to Aztlan's treasury. I may seem callous in having said that, but I could have been even more callous. By ancient tradition, I could have slain those traitors' wives, children, grandchildren, relatives of even more remote degree, and from that I refrained. I did not wish to depopulate Aztlan entirely.