He shook his head. 'It's the truth, Acatl.'
I didn't believe a word he had said. But he was obviously not going to admit to anything, not unless I forced him into it.
I went to the door, and motioned Yaotl in.
'Anything you want?' he asked me.
'Can you ask the priestesses if there's a girl named Ohtli here, of the Atempan
Yaotl shrugged. 'Easily done,' he said. 'They keep records of every girl-child in the school.'
I glanced at Neutemoc, who was watching me, his eyes widening slightly. It was not a kind threat, the one I was about to make, either for him or for Ohtli, but his life was at stake. 'If you find her, can you have her brought here? Tell her I have some questions for her.'
'Acatl, no! She's only a child. At least have the decency to keep her out of this.'
The insult stung, but I didn't move. 'You were the one who introduced her name into the conversation.'
Neutemoc's hands clenched. 'It was a mistake. Ohtli has nothing to do with this, nothing at all. I didn't get to her room, I swear.'
'Then please show a little more co-operation.'
'Acatl–' He was pleading now, and it made me ill at ease. I'd never enjoyed reducing people to helplessness.
'It's a pretty story you told me,' I said. 'But it doesn't fit what I saw in that room, or what the Guardian saw.'
Neutemoc looked at me, and at Yaotl, who already had a hand on the entrance-curtain. 'Very well,' he said, finally. 'I'll tell you. But in private.' 'Nothing is private,' I said. 'Your testimony–'
'Acatl.' His voice cut as deep as an obsidian blade. 'Please.'
He was my brother, the threat of death hanging over him, yet I could afford no favouritism. Everyone should be treated according to their status, noblemen and Jaguar Knights more harshly than commoners. 'I'll listen to you in private,' I said. 'But I'll make no guarantee I won't pass it on.'
Neutemoc's face was flat, taut with fear. He glanced at Yaotl – tall, scarred, unbending – and finally nodded.
Yaotl slipped out, drawing the entrance-curtain closed in a tinkle of bells. He barked orders, and footsteps echoed in the corridor: the warriors, moving away from the door.
I sat by Neutemoc's side, keeping one hand on the handle of the obsidian daggers I always had in my belt, just as a protection. He hadn't looked violent, but his mood-swings could be unpredictable. 'So?' I asked.
He said, slowly, 'I… I knew Priestess Eleuia. We fought together in the war against Chalco. She was a novice priestess of Xochiquetzal then, at the bottom of the hierarchy – but she was magnificent.' He shook his head. 'We slept together.'
Priestesses of Xochiquetzal were sacred courtesans, accompanying the warriors on their campaigns. They were also warriors in their own right, fighting the enemy with their long, deadly spears. 'You slept with her in Chalco,' I said, flatly. 'That was sixteen years ago.'
I was starting to suspect what Neutemoc had been doing in Eleuia's room. The idea was decidedly unpleasant.
'Yes,' Neutemoc said. 'I didn't think much of it, at the time. I had my marriage coming, and we drifted apart.' He closed his eyes, spoke with care, as if he were composing a poem: each word slowly falling into place with the inevitability of a heartbeat. 'I met her again two months ago, when I enrolled Ohtli. I had no idea she'd been posted here. We sat together and reminisced about the past, and all we'd lived through together… She hadn't changed, Acatl. Still the same as she'd been, all those years ago. Still the same smile, the same gestures that would drive a man mad with desire.'
The Storm Lord smite him, surely he hadn't dared? 'Neutemoc–'
His lips had gone white. 'You asked, Acatl. You wanted to know why I was here tonight. I had an assignation. She… she flirted with me, quite ostentatiously.'
And he'd gone to her rooms. 'You gave in?' I rose, towered over him. 'You were stupid enough to give in?'
'You don't understand.'
'No,' I said. 'You're right. I don't understand why you'd endanger all you've got for a pretty smile.' Eleuia was no longer a sacred courtesan: to sleep with her was adultery. And for that, they would both be put to death. And then… No more quetzal feathers, no more showers of gold brought to his luxurious home; no more calmecac education for his sons or his daughters, or for our orphaned sister.
I said, haltingly, 'For the Duality's sake! You've got a family, you've got a loving wife.' Everything – he had everything my parents had wished for their children: the glory of a successful warrior – and not the poverty-ridden life of a measly priest, barely able to support himself, let alone take care of his aged parents…
Neutemoc smiled. 'You're ill-informed, brother. Huei and I haven't talked for a while.'
I blinked. 'What?'
He shrugged. 'Private matters,' he said.
'Such as your sleeping with a few priestesses?' I asked, rubbing the salt on his wounds. If he had indeed been unfaithful, Huei would have kept silent: if not for his sake, then for the sake of their children.
He finally opened his eyes to stare at me, and his gaze was ice. 'I haven't committed adultery. Even tonight, though that was rather unexpected.' He laughed, sharply, sarcastically. 'I know what you think. What a man I make, huh?'
'Don't push me. Or I might just leave you in peace.'
'You've already done too much as it is.' Neutemoc's hands clenched again.
