‘But…’
‘Look, once things are settled here. I’ll come and find you,’ I said. ‘I promise. I will eat earth!’ I made the ritual gesture, touching the ground and my mouth with my fingertips. ‘But until then… Nimble, I’m sorry. I’m needed here.’
And that at least was the truth, I told myself, as I glanced over my shoulder at the villa where Lily was recovering from her ordeal. Lying to Nimble had been almost as hard to bear as the thought of separation, but how could I tell him what it was that really held me here, when I only half understood it myself?
‘So you’re sending me away, then.’
Just in time, before I could say ‘yes’ I recognized the challenge in his statement. He was asking me if I was giving him an order. If I were, perhaps he would obey it; but I saw, in that moment, what that one short word would cost us both.
With my eyes on his strained, tear-stained face, which was half distraught and half defiant, I said: ‘Nimble, I can’t send you anywhere. You know that, and so do I. But I’m asking you, for both our sakes. Go where you can be safe, where you don’t have to hide all the time. Please.’
There was a long silence. Then, at last, I heard the lad’s choked voice mumble brokenly: ‘If that’s what you want, Father, then I’ll do it.’ He stood up, looked briefly at me and Mother of Light and then turned on his heel. ‘I’m going in to say goodbye to Lily,’ he said shortly over his shoulder.
‘He resents you for making him leave you,’ the woman observed.
‘He’ll come round,’ Kindly said roughly, ‘and his father’s right: he’ll be much safer where you’re going. He’s a useful lad.’
‘I meant what I said, you know,’ I said to no one in particular. ‘I’ll come after him when I can.’ I turned to Mother of Light. ‘Don’t let him forget it.’
She regarded me shrewdly for a few moments. ‘You’ll have to look for us in the jungle,’ she reminded me. ‘But you’re talented that way, aren’t you? You found me and Hungry Child, and the meaning of Little Hen’s message, and you knew what had happened at Hare’s house.’
‘That’s enough,’ muttered Kindly darkly. ‘It’ll go to his head.’
The woman hesitated, looking away, surveying the countryside spread out below the hill of Tetzcotzinco as though something down there had caught her attention. When she turned back towards me, it was with the air of having made a decision.
‘I can think of one mystery you haven’t solved, though.’
‘What?’ I asked.
She stood up. ‘What became of the Lady of Tollan?’
For a moment I stared mutely at her, uncomprehending.
The word formed only slowly on my lips, so slowly that I was barely aware I had uttered it: ‘You?’
Then I understood.
Mother of Light: the concubine of whom no record existed, yet who was the only one Hungry Child had kept by him, concealed in a house kept empty for her by his edict; the favourite of a King whose own death was only the second he had faked, the first being her execution; the talented poetess.
Speechless, I could only gape stupidly at her. It was Kindly who spoke up, in his usual blunt fashion. ‘Well, that explains something.’
‘What?’ I asked as the woman looked at him curiously.
‘Why Hungry Child keeps you around. Aren’t you like that palace you were living in, and the ring you’re wearing — a reminder of how he let himself be taken in?’
I was horrified, imagining the woman would strike him across the face or, worse, go running to Maize Ear and demand that we all be killed immediately, but to my surprise she did neither.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she said softly. She smiled. ‘I think after all these years I’ve a pretty good idea why I’m still with him.’
I found my voice. ‘When I saw you in Maize Ear’s palace, you told me not to believe everything I heard. So what really happened between you and Prince of Willows? Why didn’t Hungry Child have you killed as well?’
‘Because he knew there was nothing to it! The young man was a fine poet, but everything he composed was on conventional themes — in praise of the gods, the fragility of life and so on. I used to encourage him, and I suppose he was flattered by the attention. I was very young, you see — but there really was nothing more to it than that.’ She sighed. ‘Some informer in Prince of Willows’ household started circulating rumours about what was in his poems. It was hard to deny them because, of course, there’s no way of setting the words of a poem down exactly. The informer was probably an Aztec spy, of course. The King had to act before it became a scandal, but he wouldn’t sit in judgement on his own son because he didn’t want to appear biased. It never occurred to him that your Emperor Montezuma might have his own interest in what happened to his son. He can be strangely naive. But after his son died he came to me and told me that no more innocent blood was going to be shed on account of his own stupidity.’
We all sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments. I reflected on the odd character of the former King, whose reputation for wisdom and scrupulous fairness seemed belied by his inability to understand people. Perhaps that was what happened if you grew up in a palace.
Kindly broke the silence again. ‘So you re-created yourself as Mother of Light? Weren’t you afraid someone would recognize you?’
‘No. Kindly, I stayed hidden in that empty palace for such a long time — from the time Prince of Willows was killed to the day of his father’s funeral. More
