Aztec Autumn

fixed in place and strung to be tripped by your warriors. The patrol returned without them. Before he disappeared, it seems, your Nocheztli had them all collected and carried with him. From what I hear, between thirty and forty of those weapons.'

I could not help exclaiming jubilantly, 'Yyo ayyo! We are armed! Praise be to the war god Huitzilopochtli!'

I should not have done that. Next instant, there was a grating sound as my cell door was unbarred. The door swung open and one of the guards peered suspiciously into the gloom—by which time I was again sprawled on my straw and Esteban had gone.

'What was that noise?' demanded the guard. 'Fool, are you shouting for help? You will get none.'

I said loftily, 'I was singing, senor. Chanting to the glory of my gods.'

'God help your gods,' he growled. 'You have a damnably disagreeable singing voice,' and he slammed the door on me again.

I sat there in the dark and pondered. I was now aware of another misjudgment I had made, not recently but a long while ago. Influenced by my distaste for the odious Yeyac and his male intimates, I had deemed all cuilontin to be malevolently rancorous and spiteful until—when challenged by a real man—they turned as servile and cowering as the meekest of women. Nocheztli had cured me of that misapprehension. Obviously, cuilontin were as various in nature as any other men, for the cuilontli Nocheztli had acted with manliness and valor and capability worthy of a true hero. If I ever saw him again, I would make plain my respect and my admiration of him.

'I must see him again,' I muttered to myself.

Nocheztli had, in one swift and daring swoop, armed a good portion of my forces with weapons equal to the white men's. But those arcabuces were useless without ample supplies of polvora and lead. Unless my army could storm and plunder Compostela's own armory—not a very likely prospect—the lead would have to be found and the polvora would have to be made. I was the only man of us who knew how to compound the powder, and I now cursed myself for never having imparted that knowledge to Nocheztli or some other of my under-officers.

'I have to get away from here,' I muttered.

I had one friend here in the town, and he had said he would try to conceive some plan for my escape. But besides the understandably inimical Spaniards, I had also many foes in this town—the vindictive Yeyac, the sanctimonious Lying Monk, the ever-evil G'nda Ke. Surely it would not be long before the governor again had me brought to face him—or to face them all—and I could hardly hope for rescue by Esteban in so short a time.

Still, I reminded myself, a summons from Coronado would at least get me out of this cell. Could I perhaps, on my way to him, elude my guards and make a dash for freedom? My own palace at Aztlan had so many rooms and alcoves and niches that the dodging of pursuers and slipping into concealment would not be impossible for a fugitive as desperate as myself. But Coronado's palace was not nearly so big nor so grand as mine. I mentally reviewed the route along which the guards had twice now led me between this cell and the throne room—if that was what it was called—where the governor had questioned me. My cell was one of four at this far end of the building; I knew not whether the others were occupied. And beyond, there was a long corridor... then a flight of stairs... another corridor...

I could recall no place where I might break away, no accessible window through which I might lunge. And once in the governor's presence, I would be quite surrounded. Afterward, if I was not summarily executed right in front of him, there was every probability that I would not be led back to this cell, but to some kind of torture chamber or even the burning stake. Well, I thought dolefully, I would have to be burned outdoors. Conceivably, on the way there...

But that thought provided wan hope, indeed. I was trying to fend off black despair, and reconcile myself to the worst, when suddenly I heard: 'Oye.'

It was Esteban's murmur again at my tiny window. I bounded to my feet and peered again at darkness that was again split by a white-toothed grin, as he said, softly but jauntily, 'I have an idea, Juan Britanico.'

When he told it to me, I realized that he had been thinking much as I had been, only—I must say—with a great deal more optimism. What he proposed was so reckless as to verge on madness, but he had had an idea, and I had not.

The guards bound my arms before they escorted me to my next confrontation with the governor, the following morning, but at his dismissive gesture, they untied me and stood aside. Besides several other soldiers, G'nda Ke and Fray Marcos and his guide Esteban were also in the room, and they ambled about it as freely as if they were Coronado's equals.

To me, the governor said, 'I have excused Yeyac from attendance at this conference because, frankly, I detest the duplicitous hijoputa. However, from our previous interview, Juan Britanico, I take you to be an honorable and forthright man. Therefore, I here and now offer you the same pact that my predecessor, Governor Guzman, made with that Yeyac. You will be set free, as will also the other horseman captured alive with you.'

He gestured again, and a soldier brought in from some other room Ualiztli the ticitl, looking grumpy and disheveled, but not impaired in any way. This put a small complication into the projected plan of escape, but not, I thought, an insuperable one, and I was pleased that I might be able to take Ualiztli with me. I motioned for him to come and stand beside me, and I waited to hear the rest of the governor's so-called offer.

He said, 'You will be allowed to return to that place called Aztlan, and resume your rule there. I guarantee that not Yeyac nor any of his cohort will contest your supremacy—if I have to kill the damned maricon to make sure of it. You and your people will retain your traditional domains and live there in peace, untroubled by invasion or conquest by mine. In time, you Aztecs and we Spaniards may find it profitable to engage in trade and other intercourse, but nothing of that sort will be forced upon you.'

He paused and waited, but I stood silent, so he went on:

'In reciprocation, you will guarantee not to lead or incite any further rebellion against New Galicia, New Spain or any other of His Majesty's lands and subjects here in the New World. You will send word to those insurgent bands in the south to cease their depredations. And you will swear to ward off, as Yeyac did, any incursions of those pestiferous indios to the north, in the Tierra de Guerra. So, what say you, Juan Britanico? Agreed?'

I said, 'I thank you, Senor Gobernador, for your flattering estimate of my character and for your trust that I would keep my given word. I take you, too, to be an honorable man. For that reason, I would not disrespect you and disgrace myself by giving my word and then breaking it. You must be fully aware that what you offer me and my people is nothing but what we have always had, and will fight to keep. We Aztecs have declared war against you and every other white man. Strike me dead this moment, senor, and some other Aztec will arise to lead our warriors in that war. I respectfully decline the pact you offer.'

Coronado's face had been darkening during my speech, and I am sure he was about to reply in wrath and malediction. But just then, Esteban, who had all this while been sauntering idly about the room, came within my reach.

I flung an arm around his neck, hauled him tight against me and, with my free hand, plucked from his waist belt the steel knife sheathed there. Esteban made an apparently strenuous effort to struggle loose, but desisted when I laid the knife blade across his bare throat. Ualiztli, at my side, regarded me with astonishment.

'Soldiers!' screeched G'nda Ke from across the room. 'Take aim! Slay that man!' She was ranting in Nahuatl, but no one could have mistaken what she meant. 'Slay them both!'

'No!' cried Fray Marcos and 'Hold!' bellowed Coronado, exactly as Esteban had predicted they would. The soldiers, already having raised their arcabuces or drawn their swords, stood perplexed, making no other move.

'No?' bawled G'nda Ke in disbelief. 'Not kill them? What kind of timid women are you white fools?' She would have gone on with her incomprehensible tirade, but the friar desperately outshouted her:

'Please, Your Excellency! The guards must not take the risk of—'

'I know it, you imbecile! Shut your mouth! And strangle that howling bitch!'

I was slowly backing toward the door, seemingly dragging the helpless black man, and Ualiztli was right with us. Esteban was turning his head from side to side, as if looking for help, his eyes fearfully bulging so that they