Shadow of the Lords (27 page)

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Authors: Simon Levack

BOOK: Shadow of the Lords
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‘Look out!' Upright shouted suddenly. A canoe had appeared in front of us, blocking our way. It looked as if it had been launched from the side of the canal straight into our path.
‘What's he doing? Move that thing, you idiot!' yelled Shield, but the last word died in his throat as he had a clear look at the other craft's only occupant.
This time there could be no mistaking his occupation. If his green costume and his hair had not given it away, the deft, familiar way he handled the sword in his fist would have done. He was using it to motion us towards the bank with a curt, slashing gesture.
The captain and his men stood in a semicircle by the side of the canal.
‘What do we do?' Shield whispered.
‘What he says,' Upright muttered tensely. He glared at me. ‘You know anything about this?'
I said nothing. I was speechless with terror.
‘Well, hello, stranger.' The living half of the captain's face twisted into a lopsided grin as he caught sight of me. ‘I was afraid we wouldn't meet again!'
‘Now look …' Upright began.
‘Shut up. Out of the boat, the lot of you.'
Upright swore under his breath, but complied. Shield and I had no choice but to follow him. The captain and his men formed a semicircle around us as we scrambled ashore.
I stood at the very edge of the canal, with the policemen on either side of me. At that moment they felt like my only protection.
‘What do you want?' Upright demanded.
‘Him, of course.'
‘On whose authority? He's going to the Governor. If his Lordship tells us to hand him over to you, you're welcome to him, but …'
‘This is my authority.' The captain lifted the wicked, four-bladed sword I had seen him with earlier and jabbed Upright in the stomach with its blunt end, just once and not hard, and then raised it further so that the blades glittered in front of the policeman's eyes. ‘You do what it tells you, see? Sod the Governor!'
What Upright did then was instinctive. If he had thought about it, even for a moment, he might have lived, but it all happened instantly, and by the time I saw what he was about it would have been too late to intervene even if there were anything I could do.
He raised his right hand towards his shoulder, where he wore his sword slung over his back.
He was dead before his fingers could so much as brush the weapon. Fox's blade took him with a casual backhanded slash across the stomach. For a moment Upright just stood, watching, with a bemused look on his face, while his guts spilled out in front of him, and then he made an odd belching noise, blood gushed from his mouth and he fell over.
Two warriors had Shield's arms pinioned behind him before he could move. He seemed unable to speak. He stood staring down at his chief's body, open mouthed, the colour draining from his face even as I watched.
‘Fox,' the captain said, ‘you are so clumsy Who's going to clear up that mess?'
Shield was still struggling to find his voice. ‘You …' he gasped.
‘Forget it.' The captain thrust his brutal, ravaged face into the policeman's. ‘Sorry to hear about your colleague's unfortunate accident. The Chief Minister sends his condolences. It's
important you remember that. “Accident” and “Chief Minister” – got it?'
Shield made a noise that the captain was obviously willing to take as assent, as he turned to me.
‘Now, as for you.'
He raised the four-bladed sword. I watched the glittering black razors set into its edges, one by one, as they swept past my face on the weapon's upward swing. I felt my stomach lurch and I squeezed my eyes shut to spare myself the sight of the blow coming.
Nothing happened.
I opened my eyes again.
The handle of the weapon ended in a heavy wooden knob. That was the last thing I saw, filling my vision as it was driven down between my eyes like the head of a mallet, before everything went dark.
M
y head was an ear of maize. The back of it lay on a grinding-stone and someone was bearing down on my forehead with a stone roller. My skull was the husk they were going to split as their hard surfaces scraped against each other.
I screamed, rolling over to escape the stones' relentless pressure, and my face came up against a sandalled foot.
‘Ah,' said a voice I knew and hated, an old man's voice that I had somehow hoped I might never hear again, ‘he's awake.'
‘I said he was, my Lord. I know how hard I hit him. He was shamming.'
‘Well, perhaps.' The old man heaved a regretful sigh. ‘So hard to get reliable slaves, these days.'
‘Would you like me and my boys to teach him to behave himself?' The sound of a man with not much more than half a mouth smacking his lips with relish is not one I would wish to hear again.
‘Thank you, Captain.' The old man paused, no doubt wanting to let the Otomi's suggestion work its way through my brain and down into my guts before continuing. ‘However, I think I would just like you to get him on his feet for now. Then why don't you and your men have something to eat? You must be tired and hungry after your search. I'll send for you if this slave needs … well, if I want anything further.'
‘Thank you, my Lord. You're too kind.'
The captain's way of getting me on my feet consisted of grasping me around the throat, which he could easily do with one massive hand, and yanking me upright. I made a strangulated noise while my feet danced about, looking for the floor. My eyes opened but everything was a blur, slightly tinged with pink.
‘If you don't stand up,' the big warrior hissed, ‘you'll choke.'
I managed to get both feet on the ground. They could just about reach it, but it took some of the pressure off my neck. That felt stiff and sore, even when the hand released it to leave me standing, unsupported, swaying slightly but still upright.
My stomach made an unpleasant sound.
‘I advise you not to throw up in front of Lord Feathered in Black, Yaotl,' said another voice portentously. ‘You're in enough trouble already'
I turned my head slowly towards the speaker and forced my eyes to focus on him. My master's steward, Huitztic the Prick, was squatting a few paces away, his eyes respectfully downcast in our master's presence. He looked strange, and after a moment I saw why. Partly faded, yellowing bruises covered his arms and legs, and the ear I could see was badly swollen.
I remembered how I had left him, surrounded by a hostile crowd of Tepanecs. ‘You look a bit rough,' I said. ‘Been in a fight?'
‘Yaotl,' my master said evenly, ‘shut up.'
As I swivelled my head towards him I heard him admonish his steward. ‘When your advice is needed I will tell you. In the meantime, perhaps you would care to show the captain and his men where they can rest, and find them some food. Now, as for you …'
The old man's high-backed, fur-covered wicker chair had been placed in one of his favourite places, on the raised patio on the roof of his palace, beneath the magnolia tree that his
father had planted. From here he could look towards the Sacred Precinct of Tenochtitlan, the Heart of the World, its temples soaring towards the sky just beyond the canal at the front of his palace. He was looking that way now, probably indulging himself with a vision of me being dragged up the steps of a pyramid towards the sacrificial stone at the top.
I squinted painfully, forcing my eyes to focus on his face so that I could try to judge his mood now. To look a great lord in the eyes was the kind of impudence that would normally have got me a severe beating, but I felt as if I had had so many of those lately that it scarcely mattered. The back and front of my skull were still competing over which hurt most, but the bruises the Otomi's finger had raised on my neck were catching them up fast.
His Lordship was dressed casually, for him, in a pale green cape with a border of shells, a matching breechcloth with golden tassels at its ends and real shells dangling from his ears. A mother-of-pearl lip-plug completed the ensemble. I thought it a little vulgar but I knew he would change if he wanted to go out anywhere and he would almost certainly never wear any of it again. The plumes in his hair were only heron, but they were the longest, whitest heron feathers you could get.
He looked me over slowly. His fingers, long swollen and crippled by arthritis, lay in his lap. He had no tobacco tube or chocolate bowl by him, but the moment he needed either he would have it almost before he could ask. All I wanted then was a drink of water, but I did not expect any graceful serving girl to slip a gourd into my hands at the merest gesture.
‘I don't suppose,' he began heavily, ‘that there's much point in my asking you for an explanation, is there?'
I swallowed. ‘My Lord, I …'
‘I could ask you to give me a good reason why I shouldn't just take the Otomi up on his suggestion. I gather he has a
talent for dentistry that any curer would envy' I shuddered at the memory of what I had seen in Tlacopan. ‘But what's the point? You'll only lie to me, and anyway, I know perfectly well what you've been up to. So I'll tell you what I'm going to do instead.'
I tensed, feeling my mouth go dry with fear as I waited to learn my fate. A flicker of something that may have been amusement crossed my master's face, and he moved a cracked, leathery hand once in a barely perceptible gesture.
A moment later a girl was at his side, presenting him with a steaming bowl. The aroma of chocolate and vanilla filled my nostrils, and a sudden sharp pain in my stomach reminded me how long it was since I had eaten or drunk. As his Lordship sipped delicately at his drink I tried to take my mind off my fear by wondering how they managed to serve him freshly whipped chocolate at just the right temperature so quickly. I supposed a drink must be kept just outside the room, to be poured away and replaced if it was not called for, but what if he had wanted a different flavouring – honey or green maize or pimentos instead of vanilla?
I got so absorbed in this nonsense that it took me a moment to realize that my master had started speaking again.
‘Of course, you have run away Whatever happens, you know I can't overlook that. I shall have to admonish you. That will be for the second time. Once more and you know what will happen.' Of course I knew: I could lawfully be sold, and having been marked out as obviously useless, could expect to be bought for only one purpose.
But at that moment the prospect of being sacrificed barely entered my thoughts. All I could understand was that I was being reprieved. My master was giving me another chance.
I swallowed, I gaped, and then I fell to my knees, less out of
gratitude and deference than because my legs had buckled. I flopped forward in front of his Lordship, prostrating myself, with my arms flung out towards him.
‘My Lord! Thank you! I …'
My words ended in a scream as something hard slammed into the top of my head. I heard a crack like a fir branch full of sap bursting in a fire, and there were pieces of pottery on the floor and scalding liquid all over my head and neck. Unlike most Aztecs, my master liked his chocolate piping hot, and the contents of his bowl seared the tender, bruised flesh of my scalp, making tears spring to my eyes and my hands snatch convulsively at my hair.
‘Don't start thanking me, you worm! Why do you think I didn't just give you to my steward and the captain and let them take turns breaking every bone in your body, one by one? Eh? Look at me!'
I raised my head towards my master. A pathetic sight he must have thought me, with fragments of pottery in my hair and chocolate running down my face and over my eyes, forcing me to blink.
‘I'm going to let you live – for now – on one condition.' Disgust twisted his mouth, as though I were the corpse of some verminous thing found rotting in one of his storehouses. ‘You tell me where the boy is.'
‘The … the boy?'
He leaned towards me slightly, probably as far as his ancient back would allow. ‘The boy, Yaotl. Don't play dumb. You know who I mean. Shining Light's accomplice, the one I want for cheating and humiliating me. Your son, Nimble!'
‘My son? How can you … How …?'
‘How do I know? How do you think? His boyfriend's mother told me.'
‘Lily?' I asked, incredulously. I remembered Upright telling
me how she had gone to Lord Feathered in Black after I had escaped.
‘Yes, Lily. He only had one mother, as far as I know. And she told me everything you told her. So I know what her son did, and what your son did.' Suddenly his Lordship laughed, a cackling sound followed by several dry, shallow wheezes. ‘Have you any idea how much that woman hates you? She thinks your boy led hers astray! That's why she was bringing you back to me. She thought you'd get what you deserved here. If you didn't, she told me, she'd take your skin off you with her fingernails!'
I said nothing but my mind was in turmoil. I understood, now, how the Otomi I had met by the canal the day before had known who he was looking for. After she had snatched me from Howling Monkey's house Lily must have come straight here and passed on everything I had told her. But had I told her that much?
I tried to remember what I had said to the tense, bitter woman sitting opposite me in the canoe. I had not intended to mention Nimble. Where had I gone wrong?
‘I know what you were up to in Tlatelolco.' The Chief Minister's voice had become soft, and years of experience told me that there was no more dangerous sound in the World. ‘You were looking for him, weren't you? You convinced that meathead of an Otomi to go blundering into Tlacopan after him and then went to Tlatelolco because somehow you knew that was where he'd really gone. So where is he, Yaotl?'
I looked down and squeezed my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to overwhelm them. ‘My Lord, I don't know,' I muttered truthfully. Then I took a deep breath and looked up again, straight into my master's startlingly clear brown eyes. ‘But you may as well send for the captain now, because even if I did know, I couldn't tell you.'

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