I shook my head. 'I came with questions. As you all know, there has been a death in the palace tonight.'
Several members shifted uncomfortably. Manatzpa nodded. 'Ocome. Not a popular man.'
'I take it you didn't like him?' I asked him, bluntly. He sounded congenial enough, and I doubted he'd be vexed by my honesty.
'None of us did. But I, no.' Manatzpa smiled. 'You'll discover soon enough that I threatened to dismiss him from the council.'
'Something you had no right to do.' Quenami's face was filled with self-righteous outrage.
'Oh, Quenami,' the She-Snake said with a shake of his head. 'You're far too concerned with propriety.'
'Propriety?' Quenami drew himself to his full height. 'You speak of the rites of Huitzilpochtli? They have kept us alive. They have allowed us to survive She of the Silver Bells, and a century of migration in the marshes. They will allow us to survive those shadowed days, if we're willing to follow them.'
More than a few council members looked embarrassed. Quenami, as subtly as ever, had reminded them that, in the first days of the Mexica Empire, the Revered Speaker had chosen his heir before his death, and the council's role had only been to approve that choice. By that logic, Tizoc-tzin should have been elected Revered Speaker without much fuss. But, over the years, the councilmen had gained influence and prerogatives, and now they would not be content with merely confirming Axayacatl-tzin's opinion.
Well, at least I knew exactly where Quenami stood. Not that I was surprised, since Tizoc-tzin had appointed him in the first place.
Manatzpa's face had turned smooth, unreadable. 'Believe me, the last thing we want is chaos, Quenami- tzin.' He turned again towards me. 'Acatl-tzin, I imagine you still have questions?'
If glances could kill, Quenami would have struck me dead on the spot. Then again, the man had asked me to come with him, so he had only himself to blame.
'Yes. You said you had tried to get Ocome dismissed from the council. Why?'
'Oh, come, Acatl.' Manatzpa smiled. 'By now, you must know what Ocome was like. He was a liability to this council. His only use was as an indicator of which direction the Fifth Sun would shine. We're the high council, not stalks bending to the slightest breath of wind. He made us all a disgrace.'
I could see his colleagues as he spoke, several of them nodding to the rhythm of his words, others carefully unreadable. Very few people seemed to disagree outright.
It looked like I was not going to lack suspects.
'It's hardly a reason to commit murder, though,' Manatzpa said. 'There are more civilised ways to solve our quarrels.'
'Even when precedents aren't on your side?' This from Quenami, who had obviously not forgotten his curt dismissal.
Manatzpa did not even bother looking at him. 'Not everyone considers death a viable solution. Believe me, if I'd really wanted him out of this council, I'd have found a way. Enough pressure in the right places…'
'Such as envoys?' I asked.
Manatzpa looked puzzled. 'I don't understand what you mean.'
'Someone sent envoys to Ocome regularly,' I said. 'With threats, in all likelihood. And the chances are it's someone in this room.'
Or Tizoc-tzin, or Acamapichtli, or Xahuia, the princess from Texcoco. But I didn't say that aloud. I just watched them. Several members of the council were looking distinctly uncomfortable, bearing the waxy hue typical of guilty men.
There'd only been one set of envoys, though. Why did so many of them look so nervous?
'Look,' I said. 'I need to speak with you, that's all. Work out where you're standing.'
'That doesn't concern you.' Manatzpa's voice was hard.
'It might,' I said. 'Someone is obviously trying to meddle in the succession. I wouldn't care if they had poisoned Ocome or stabbed him, or crushed his head. But they summoned a star-demon to do it, and that comes within my province.' And Quenami's, and Acamapichtli's, but neither of them had made much effort to deal with that so far.
Manatzpa eyed me for a while, as if gauging my worth, but he did not move. At length he relented. 'I suppose,' he said. 'But let's do this somewhere else, Acatl-tzin.'
Manatzpa and I repaired to a smaller room in an adjacent courtyard, an almost bare affair, with only a few frescoes showing our ancestors within the seven caves of the heartland, before Huitzilpochtli sent them on their migration to found a city and an empire that would spread over the whole Fifth World.
He sat for a while, cross-legged, as impassive as a statue of a god or an obsidian mask, waiting for me to make the first move. I sat down on the other side of the reed mat. 'You look like one of the most active members of the council.'
Manatzpa inclined his head, gracefully. 'If you mean that I view this appointment as more than a sinecure, yes.' He must have seen my face, for he laughed. 'Expecting more evasions? I dislike deception, Acatl-tzin.'
I very much doubted that he'd risen so high on honesty alone. Teomitl was the only member of the imperial court I'd met who preferred bluntness to flattery, and while I couldn't help but like him for it, I was also aware that it made his survival at court much more difficult. 'Let's say I believe you,' I said. 'If you're determined to be so honest, tell me this. Who do you support as Revered Speaker?'
Something like a smile lifted up the corners of Manatzpa's thin lips. 'Tizoc-tzin is a weak fool. He has the support of the army's core, but not much else. He lacks the… stature to fill the role he wants to claim. The foreign princeling – Xahuia's son – he has her support and that of her followers, but he is a spoiled brat, nothing like the ruler we'd wish for.
'The She-Snake,' and here Manatzpa sounded almost regretful, 'he has the ambition, and the greatness within him. But it would set an uncomfortable precedent. His father refused the honour of the Turquoise-and-Gold Crown, and justly so. There is a place for the She-Snake, and one for the Revered Speaker. Male and female, violence and order-keeping; you cannot mix both.'
'And the high priests?' I asked, fascinated in spite of myself.
