Aztlan: The Courts of Heaven (19 page)

“Then he changed his mind. And that was something the conspiracy couldn’t permit. There had already been too much money wagered against the Eagles for Coyotl to show up and give Aztlan the victory.

“Worse, Coyotl was going to expose the conspiracy. He was going to go to the police, see it torn down.

“So two of the conspirators seized him—Pactonal and Tecocol, the center for Malinalco. They spirited him out of his building and took him to another one in District Four. And eventually, because they were amateurs, they killed Coyotl and—out of panic—dumped his body in an alley.”

Xochipilli’s brow knotted. “That’s a serious charge, Investigator.”

“It is,” I agreed. “And it’s even more serious when it’s leveled against a member of the noble caste.”

He tilted his head. “What are you saying?”

“I think you know,” I said. “After all, you’re the member of the noble caste I’m talking about.”

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Everyone turned to Xochipilli, to see what he would say—what he would do.

He could have denied the charge. Certainly, that is what a commoner would have done. But he didn’t. He just said, “Well done, Investigator.”

“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is
why
. You’re a nobleman. You didn’t
need
to fix anything to make a pile of beans.”

Xochipilli smiled. “Such a quaint expression—a
pile
of beans. As if we were still digging in the dirt under the rule of Moctezuma. Unfortunately, Investigator, there are piles and there are piles. And we in Mexica aren’t the only ones in possession of them.

“Europeans like their gambling too. And in recent cycles, they have come to enjoy gambling on the Sun League. Being an owner, I saw their eagerness to do so as an opportunity.

“But it didn’t turn out that way. I lost bet after bet, and my debts began to add up. Before long, I owed my Euro friends a substantial sum.” He shrugged. “I had to do something to pay it off. I’m sure you understand.”

I felt my jaw clench. “What I understand is that you cheated millions of commoners who bet on their beloved Aztlan, often more than they could afford. And most of them did their betting in
your
gambling parlors.”

Xochipilli laughed. “Cheated, you say? Of
what
?” He looked around the room at his fellow nobles. “The chance to acquire a few beans? And if these commoners acquired them, what difference would it make in their lives? Would it make them any less common?”

I wanted to ask him if the beans
he
acquired made him any more
noble
. Instead I asked, “Even Coyotl? The man who pulled more spectators into your Arena than any other player in the history of the game?”

“He was a commoner too,” said Xochipilli. “I wasn’t going to knuckle under to him. I did what I had to do to neutralize the threat.”

“And Pactonal was only too glad to help,” I suggested.

“He was near the end of his career, and his wealth management skills had never been what you’d call impressive. He needed a payday, and I made one available to him.” He shrugged. “It was what anyone in my position would have done.”

No one in the room seemed inclined to disagree.

I wasn’t surprised. They were nobles. They lived by a different set of rules.

“This isn’t just a crime,” I said. “It goes to the heart of who we are in the Empire. If we can’t trust what goes on in the ball court—the one place where a commoner can rise to fame and fortune—then the riots we’ve seen are just a taste of what’s to come.”

“That sounds a bit like treason,” said Xochipilli.

“I’m not the one who’s put the Empire in danger,” I told him.

His mouth twisted a little. Obviously, I had hit a nerve. “
No one
has put the Empire in danger, Investigator. At least, not yet. And the Empire will remain secure as long as the substance of this conversation remains within the confines of these walls.”

“Which it will,” said Atlahua, iron in his voice.

Xochipilli smiled at me. “No doubt. Colhua here may be arrogant beyond his station, but he’s not a complete fool. Are you, Investigator?”

“Not a
complete
fool, no,” I said. Then I took the one shot I had. “Which is why I feel compelled to remind you that even a nobleman can be held accountable for murder—when his victim is another nobleman.”

Xochipilli looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “I take it back—you
are
a fool. Coyotl was every bit as much a commoner as you are.”

“Not true, Your Excellence. Not anymore. An acquaintance of mine advised me recently that even before Coyotl disappeared, he had all the points he needed for elevation.”

Xochipilli turned as pale as maize. “What . . . ?”

“Coyotl wasn’t a commoner when you ordered Pactonal to kill him, Your Excellence.
He was a nobleman
. And the penalty for killing a nobleman is a steep one.”

Xochipilli’s eyes looked hollow. “That can’t be right. Coyotl—”

“It
is
,” I assured him.

I handed him the tally I had received from Chief Zayanya earlier in the day. Though Zayanya hadn’t said where he got the information, a little research had borne it out.

“You can check the mathematics, if you like,” I said. Then I added, because I couldn’t resist, “Or maybe you would prefer to have your people do it
for
you.”

Xochipilli looked as if he desperately wanted to say something—but nothing came out of his mouth. Suddenly, his hand pulled back as if he meant to hit me. I braced myself for the blow, but somehow he restrained himself.

I doubted it was the first time he had raised his hand against a commoner. With luck, it would be the last.

Just then, someone burst into the gallery. I turned along with everyone else and saw Acama fill the door frame. He was bleeding from a vicious cut over his eye but he still looked capable of breaking a guy in half.

Judging by the way he was glaring at me, I was sure I knew which guy he had in mind.

He looked to Xochipilli, silently asking for permission to go after me—to drag me from the room, at the very least. But all Xochipilli could do was gesture for him to go away.

Acama looked confused—and disappointed. But in the end, he had no choice. He muttered an apology to the assembled nobles, backed out of the room, and pulled the doors shut behind him.

I wondered how much longer he would have a job working for Xochipilli. No doubt, he was wondering the same thing.

I felt a hand on my arm. It was Atlahua’s. “Please,” he said, and pulled me ever so gently in the direction of a side door.

There was a small, wood-paneled room beyond it. I waited for the nobleman to close the door behind us before I said, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Atlahua frowned into his chocolate, as if there were something more to see there than ground-up cacao beans.

“You were the one who got Ichtaca off the hook,” I said, “and sent me the information about Coyotl’s elevation, and told Zayanya there would be a party here this evening.”

He looked up at me. “Even for noblemen, there are limits to what is considered acceptable behavior. Xochipilli exceeded them.”

“You were involved with Zincicha too, I think.”

“Zincicha realized that the only way to protect himself from Xochipilli was to enlist the aid of another nobleman. And since he knew me as the owner of his ball court team . . ."

“But weren’t you angry about his fixing games?”

“Very. However, ball court players make mistakes like everyone else. Besides, he offered to come forward when others would not.”

“Giving you an opportunity to expose Xochipilli without doing so on your own.” After all, the Emperor detested the idea of noblemen incriminating other noblemen.

“Zincicha gave you the tools,” said Atlahua. “You employed them.”

“What’s going to happen to Xochipilli now?” I asked. It came out a little too much like a demand.

The nobleman didn’t seem offended. “He will have reason to regret his crime. You may rely on that.”

It wasn’t an answer, but it
was
an assurance. Xochipilli wouldn’t be punished like a commoner, because neither Atlahua nor any of his peers was about to open that door. But Xochipilli would pay nonetheless.

“Thank you,” I said.

The nobleman smiled a little. “Thank
you
, Investigator.”

Because he couldn’t have done it without me.

It occurred to me that I was in a unique position—one I had never been in before, and would never be in again. I would have been a fool not to take advantage of it.

“I may be overstepping my bounds,” I said, “but I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything,” said Atlahua, though we both knew he wouldn’t grant just
anything
.

“I have a friend named Nagual. You may have heard of him.”

“The Nagual who starred on Axaya Xochipilli’s championship squad? Your teammate?”

“That one. Unfortunately, he’s run into hard times. And bad habits.”

Atlahua nodded. “That
is
unfortunate.”

“But he’s over those habits now, Your Excellence. He’s a good man, and he knows the ball court as well as anyone. If you had an opening in your organization . . ."

“How long was Nagual a victim of these bad habits?”

“I don’t know. But if you hire him, I don’t think you’ll regret it. His problems stemmed from a bad break or two, and if he got a
good
break it would make a difference.”

The nobleman considered the request. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve given someone a second chance. I’ll see if we have something for someone of Nagual’s talents.”

“I’m indebted to you,” I said.

“No more than I am to you,” said Atlahua, smiling. I took that as a sign that Nagual would find himself with a job soon.

At that point, I had no reason to linger. It wasn’t as if I was going to be feted with a round of chocolate morsels.

“I guess I’ll be going,” I said.

Atlahua held up a hand. “Not just yet.”

I wondered what else there was to say.

“I do agree with Xochipilli,” he said, “in one respect. What was spoken of in that room must remain a private matter. If you feel even the slightest urge to make it public, I would strongly advise you to suppress it. Do we understand each other?”

“We do,” I said.

After all, he was a nobleman and I was a commoner, regardless of what had happened in Xochipilli’s gallery. In that regard, nothing had changed.

Atlahua eyed me a moment longer. Then he said, “You’re limping. You should see a physician, Investigator.”

I couldn’t help chuckling a little. “At this hour?”

“I know of one who won’t mind. He is paid well to make himself available at
any
hour.”

“Thank you, Your Excellence. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll buzz him tomorrow.”

He smiled a little. “Of course. You want to get some rest first.”

That wasn’t what I had in mind, but I nodded.

Atlahua gave me the doctor’s code and said the guy would be expecting my buzz. Then he lifted his cup to me and returned to the other room.

For the first time since I’d walked into Xochipilli’s gallery, I had a moment to think about the noblewoman I’d met in The Sleeping Jaguar. If she was indeed Atlahua’s mate, as she appeared to be, the gods had seen fit to weave her a web of intricate design.

After all, Atlahua bore a distinct resemblance to Coyotl—the kind of resemblance that made me wonder. Nagual had said that Coyotl’s mother was a slave for the House of Atlahua. Was it possible that young Atlahua had enjoyed relations with his family’s slave? And that it was his seed she had carried when she gave birth to Coyotl?

Which would have made Coyotl, the man the noblewoman had embraced as her lover . . . Atlahua’s son.
A web of intricate design indeed
.

Unfortunately for Coyotl, the blood of House Atalua still wouldn’t have made him a nobleman. The emperors of Mexica had always frowned on the notion of recognizing bastards as noble heirs.

All the more reason, maybe, for Atlahua to try to buy Coyotl’s contract from the Eagles. And to keep track of the points Coyotl had accumulated in the ball court, knowing they might lead to Coyotl’s elevation one day. And more recently, to see Ichtaca freed when he knew Xochipilli was the one behind Coyotl’s murder.

It was a speculation I would take to my grave.

Looking around, I saw that the side room had a second door. It led to a wooden landing outside the house. Soon I found myself descending a set of stairs that hugged the western wall.