CHAPTER XXIII.
A week had elapsed since the tzin and his party arrived at Tezcot's so opportunely, much of which time had been spent at the cavern in formulating plans and instructions for the direction and government of the prince's friends, in the operations which would follow Euetzin's return to the valley.
The final consultation had been held, and the instruments of authority, which made the tzin the accredited representative of Hualcoyotl, were in his possession; and Cacami and he, it was decided, would start for the scene of their future labors the next day, leaving Oza to attend his master.
The blessings of the gods had been invoked upon the young men and the cause they were engaged in promoting; a final leave had been taken of the prince and hermit, and they were now at Tezcot's waiting for the advent of to-morrow to speed them on their way to Tlacopan, their first point of destination.
It was in the last hour of day—an hour on the mountains which brings with it a peculiar sense of subduedness—that Euetzin and Mitla strolled away from the house to find a spot where they could be alone for a short time to have a final talk before his departure, which he purposed taking at an early hour the next morning.
After the adventure with the Tepanec soldiers, when the tzin inadvertently allowed himself to say more than he should have said, he was very careful to avoid giving further encouragement to Mitla's evident regard for him; matters, therefore, had not progressed in that direction to any appreciable extent.
"Has it been well with my friend, to-day?" he inquired casually, by way of saying something as they sauntered along together.
Mitla glanced up at her companion doubtfully with her large, full eyes, looking very sorrowful. Friend is a very cold sounding word when applied by a loved one to the one who loves, and thus it sounded to her, coming from Euetzin.
"Yes, it has, thanks to you, my preserver," she answered dispiritedly. She could not forget for a moment, when in his presence, the great service he had rendered her. Thoughts of it seemed to dispossess all else in her mind, and she continually referred to it in their conversations. Her voice, sad and low, attracted Euetzin's notice, and, looking at her, he caught her eyes as they were raised to his seemingly almost ready to weep, and he said concernedly:
"You are not happy; your eyes look too sadly appealing for that. Are you in trouble?"
"My eyes reflect the sadness which is in my heart." She could say no more; and the tears were seen to start, which she tried to conceal, but could not.
"Why, Mitla, you are surely ill! Why do you weep?" the tzin asked solicitously.
"Can you not guess? Is it not enough to sadden my heart to know that you are going away, perhaps never to return?" was her tearful reply.
"Am I, indeed, so much to you that my going should affect you thus?" he asked, not only surprised, but deeply moved by her evident distress.
"You will never know, because you can not realize it, how much you are to her whose honor you preserved inviolate. I will never see you again; it is for this that my heart is filled with sadness and my eyes with tears," she said sorrowfully.
Coming to a little shaded mound they sat down, and the tzin said:
"When I am gone you will soon forget, and only remember me as the friend of Hualcoyotl." Her answer to this was a reproachful look. An expression of pain passed over her countenance, and her eyes suddenly became suffused again with tears. Euetzin saw that her feelings were deeply wounded by his words, and, taking her hand, he hastened to say, repentantly:
"I have hurt you by my careless expression. May I not recall my words, and assure you of my great sorrow for having spoken them? I will come again, if only to learn more of the beautiful mountain girl who holds for me so much of kindly feeling. Yes, I will come again. You will forgive me now, I'm sure, for having caused you pain." He spoke rapidly, and his voice grew almost impassioned in his earnestness.
A happy smile lit up the weeping Mitla's face, for she read in the tzin's fervent manner that he was not wholly indifferent toward her. She said in reply:
"If you have said aught for which forgiveness might be asked, you are forgiven. I am a foolish girl, Euetzin, to weep and laugh almost in the same moment. But I can not help it: your words give me pain or joy, just as they impress me. I am a child; do not mind me," she replied meekly.
The tzin saw that the girl's gratitude, which was very great, had changed to love, a love that knows no bounds, and he was greatly troubled. It was by no means displeasing to him, for he was a man; yet, he felt it to be most inopportune. In the few days he had been at Tezcot's Mitla had won his profound respect—possibly more, which he was not ready to admit—and he was truly sorry that he was compelled to go away so soon. There was something about the beautiful mountain girl which pleased and charmed him; and it was with difficulty he restrained himself from giving vent to feelings in which he felt he could not afford to indulge; still, notwithstanding his efforts to refrain from doing so, he had once or twice, and but now, permitted his feelings to get the better of him. He was not sure, therefore, of his disinterestedness: the feelings with which he regarded her, he thought, might be awakening love, or might prove to be only fancy. He would wait and see before committing himself. But what of Mitla's loving heart, should it prove to be the latter? This was the thought which gave him pain, and which would have much to do with moulding the impressions which would move him later.
The tzin's promise that he would come again had a cheering effect upon Mitla, and she became quite animated.
After a half hour of more cheerful conversation they went back to the house, one of them, at least, feeling much brighter for their talk.
The sun had just dropped behind the western horizon; that conscious impress of loneliness which affects the mind in the twilight of evening, especially in the open country, was beginning to pervade not only the animate, but the inanimate. The animals showed by their actions that they felt it; so, also, did the fowls and birds, by seeking their accustomed roosts. The unwonted stillness of the leaves, the drooping of the flowers, the gentle purling of the running brook, and the placid surface of the lake's waters, all gave evidence of the near approach of Nature's resting time.
Two men, hunters, from their appearance, were trudging along the highway, going in the direction of Tlacopan, which lay just ahead of them. The tired motion of their limbs—of one of them, at least—accorded well with the silent voice around them, and told, in language mute but distinct, how welcome to them would be the rest which comes with the night.
In those travel-worn pedestrians we would have recognized the young Tezcucans, Euetzin and Cacami, who were nearing the end of their return journey from the mountains, which, owing to the fact that the tzin was a slow traveler, had taken nearly two full days to accomplish. Their destination, as has been intimated, was Tlacopan, which they were making strenuous efforts to reach before dark.
"You are much the better traveler, Cacami," the tzin was saying. "While my steps are flagging, yours are light and firm."
"You have not been trained, like myself, to physical toil; to work the ground for bread, and climb the hills in quest of meat. Yours has been a life of seclusion, and, I might add, luxury—a life which little fits one for enduring long journeys," replied Cacami.
"That is true," returned the tzin. "However, our journey will soon be ended, and, with a good night's rest in Tlacopan, the morning will find us fresh as ever."
The city of Tlacopan, with its grand teocallis, magnificent palace, and ample tianguez—of the latter more will be said later—and other objects of interest, has long since disappeared from the earth, and in its stead now stands Tacuba, an unimportant Mexican village. The city of Tlacopan, in the "Golden Era" of Anahuac, was the capital of a small tribe of people who were kindred to the Tepanecs, but not in accord with them. Mäc-ū-ā, the ruling prince, stood high among the nations, and was thought worthy to be associated with the greatest. The city was situated about two leagues southwest of Tenochtitlan, off from the lake, high and dry, and was constructed, chiefly, of stone, which was convenient and abundant.
At the time of the conquest its people had become a part of the great empire of the Aztec monarch, Montezuma, and subsequently became absorbed in the race revolution which wiped away all distinction between the native tribes, resulting in the present mixed and degenerate race condition of to-day in Mexico.
The reckless disregard of the rights of others by the emissaries of Maxtla, and the new king's evident purpose to extend his empire by conquest and subjugation, as his father before him had done, so alarmed some of the lesser ruling caciques that a coalition, for self-defense and a better security, was being seriously considered by them, and a secret council had been determined on.
The times were propitious for the cause of Tezcuco.
The tzin's object in visiting Tlacopan at this time was to have audience with Macua, and, if possible, effect an alliance with him. He was not yet aware of the uneasy feeling which had been aroused by Maxtla's conduct, for the disquieted chiefs were very close-mouthed in such matters; yet he believed the king of Tlacopan would not be unfavorable to an alliance, if he could be convinced of the advantage which would accrue from such a step.
Thus circumstanced, the tzin's visit to Tlacopan just now could only be considered a venture in the line of his mission.
The day following their arrival in the city found Euetzin and his companion early at Macua's palace, seeking admission to his presence. In due time they were gratified by being conducted to his audience chamber.
The presence of the pseudo hunters in the hall, showing so great a dissimilarity in their manners and dress, caused quite a flurry of speculation and comment. Hunters, as a rule, were not a cultivated class; and the marked exception to the common, in the case of our friends, was so plainly shown that the attention of those present was attracted to them.
Macua, king of Tlacopan, was a young man of pleasing address, who was highly regarded by his subjects. He was easily approached, and, though firm in his purposes, was kindly disposed. He received the strangers very cordially, and, when informed that they desired an audience with him, said:
"We will hear what you have to say, but ask that you will be brief, for our time is much occupied."
"The king of Tlacopan is very gracious," spoke the tzin, with an obeisance. "What we have to say must be communicated in the presence of Macua, the king, and his chief counselor, alone. Will it please your majesty to hear us?"
"Your communication must be of very great importance, indeed, to require a proceeding so unusual as a private audience," replied Macua, a little severely.
"It is a matter of not only great but grave importance, of which we desire to speak, and it should be communicated privately to the king," returned Euetzin with dignity.
"Such being the case, if you will wait the departure of our subjects you shall have private audience," the king answered, urbanely.
"Macua, the king, is most generous. We will wait," said the tzin, saluting him and turning away to be conducted to a seat.
When the king's business with his vassals was disposed of he dismissed his advisors, excepting his chief counselor, a man of advanced years, and, addressing the tzin, said:
"We are ready to hear what you have to say; proceed."
"Before your majesty are two Tezcucans—Cacami and Euetzin. Macua, the king, has no doubt heard of Hualcoyotl, our prince, whose life Maxtla, the Tepanec monarch, seeks to destroy," said the tzin, pausing for a reply.
"Yes; we have heard of the young prince, who is now a fugitive," the king answered, looking wonderingly at Euetzin, and in turn waited for him to proceed.
"We are friends of Hualcoyotl and Tezcuco. We desire that the emissaries of Maxtla be driven from our city and country, and that Hualcoyotl be put upon the throne of his fathers. To accomplish this, Tezcuco must have help from other states. We appear before you, O King, as the representatives of Hualcoyotl, seeking friendship and coalition." Spoken with due deference and self-respect.
"What assurance can you give that you are friends and representatives of Hualcoyotl?" questioned the king.
"Relying on the honor of your majesty, we offer as evidence of our truthfulness this writing. Will you examine it?" replied the tzin, handing to the king a paper which was covered with hieroglyphics. Macua received and scrutinized it carefully, then passed it to his chief, who also examined it. After a short consultation between king and counselor the former said:
"We are satisfied that you are Tezcucans, and that you come from Hualcoyotl, or some other person who has been highly honored by our knightly order. Can you inform us as to the number of soldiers Tezcuco can furnish in the event of a coalition?"
"There is an army of men in the valley, composed principally of Tezcucans, who are waiting to be led against the Tepanec king, numbering twice that of Tlacopan," replied Euetzin, confidently.
"How know you that?" asked Macua, with a shade of resentment in his voice.
"When Tlacopan has shown her willingness to join Tezcuco in a war with Maxtla of Azcapozalco, the proofs of what we declare shall be placed in Macua's hands," rejoined the tzin, decisively.
"The friend of Hualcoyotl is shrewd. It is well. The matter shall have consideration. When the fifth sun is on its upward course, if you will come again, you shall have our answer," said the king.
"How may we be assured that Macua will be faithful to the confidence which we have reposed in him?" asked the tzin, with the object of securing some pledge from the young king.
"By the kingly honor of Macua, and this," he answered haughtily, handing the tzin a ring on which was the king's sign of distinction, the possession of which made the holder an accepted embassador, and gave him a pledge which the tzin well knew would be respected.
The position and person of an embassador was sacredly regarded among the nations of Anahuac. "They were lodged and entertained in the great towns," says the historian, "at the public charge, and were everywhere received with courtesy, so long as they kept within certain prescribed bounds." The king's signet was, therefore, a passport to the tzin in any part of Macua's kingdom, securing him the hospitality of the people, and free entertainment; it was not his purpose, however, to take advantage of it. The signet was to him only a pledge of Macua's faith.
On receiving the ring Euetzin said:
"The king's pledge is more than satisfactory to the friends of Hualcoyotl. When the fifth sun is on its upward course we will come for Macua's answer, and bring with us proofs of what Tezcuco can do." This ended the interview, and, saluting his majesty very profoundly, the young men withdrew.
The tzin was well pleased with the result of his audience with Macua, and was much encouraged by it. He felt certain that he was about to secure an important ally for Hualcoyotl in the king of Tlacopan, and went about his business with the added stimulus of a stronger confidence.
Euetzin had much to engage his attention in the time which would intervene before the advent of the day fixed for the second meeting with Macua. He decided first of all to visit a few of the chief cities for the purpose of securing data from which to proceed in carrying out the prince's instructions; and also to enable him to present an approximate estimate of Tezcuco's undiscovered but existent oath-bound hosts to the king of Tlacopan, in support of his declaration. Also to offer a word of explanation and encouragement to his coadjutors.
After calling on the leading Tezcucans in Macua's capital, he and Cacami crossed over to Tenochtitlan.