CHAPTER XXXII.
At the dawn of morning, the day following the one on which the great battle was fought, the allied armies, after being addressed by their respective caciques, began to advance, with a view to another engagement with Maxtla, for the purpose, chiefly, of securing, if possible, the liberation of the prisoners in his hands. The chiefs, in addressing their warriors, dwelt especially on the capture of tzin Euet, the man—as they expressed it—who had done so grand a work for Tezcuco and the cause of liberty, who, above all others, they felt, should enjoy the fruits of that work, and whose release it was hoped might be brought about by the further discomfiture of the enemy.
Flushed with the stimulus of a great victory, and anxious to again measure strength with the Tepanec hosts, the warriors of the coalited army marched away from their bivouac with a zeal which augured well for them and the confusion of their adversaries, should they meet again in deadly conflict.
The camp of the enemy was known to have been pitched on a plain situated on the further side of a piece of woodland which lay just north of the field of the recent battle. Ixtlilchoatl moved his forces cautiously through this piece of woods, expecting to find Maxtla encamped beyond, in blissful ignorance of their approach. Great was the surprise, then, of the eager and expectant allies, when they came out onto the plain, to find the enemy gone—the bird had flown, though, evidently, only a short time before. A rapid pursuit was immediately ordered, and ere long the retreating foe was overtaken and another great battle fought.
The advantages, in point of numbers and excellence of organization, together with the prestige of former successes, which were on the side of the Tepanec army when it entered the field against the allies, had been swept away by a disastrous defeat, and its warriors, further disheartened and demoralized by a humiliating retreat, which left them wholly unfitted to cope with an equally numerous army, whose members were energized by a consciousness of right, the invigoration of victory, and a determination to overthrow the power which had long been a menace to tribal independence.
The second battle was fought by the Tepanec leaders more on the line of self-preservation and the hope of getting off with a whole skin than with the expectation of doing their opponents material damage. A desperate conflict ensued, however, in which every inch of ground was stubbornly contested by them, but which, as might have been expected, ended in that wicked and tyrannical son of a barbarian despot—Maxtla—being again discomfited and forced to yield to his hated foe. A disastrous retreat followed, and, had not darkness come on to check the avenging hosts of Tezcucans, who pursued with deadly havoc the vanquished horde, the routed army would have been effectually disintegrated, if not wholly annihilated.
The prisoners, with whom Euetzin was supposed to be, were not found, and therefore not liberated. Thus was defeated one of the chief motives which had led to the sudden advance of the allies.
Victory was won, and with it a crown, but at what a cost to Prince Hualcoyotl's mind, in the contemplation of the awful fate which he now felt awaited his best-beloved friend. Great as was the success achieved, he had no heart, in that supreme hour, for exultation. He bowed his head in sorrow for his lost friend, and, leaving the management of affairs to Ixtlilchoatl and his subordinates, retired to a spot where he could be alone, that he might wrestle with his deep mental distress.
Maxtla, realizing that his army was crushed beyond hope of immediate reconstruction, continued his flight by night, to get as far from the victorious allies as possible before the light of day should reveal to the country the crippled and demoralized condition of his army. No stop was made until he had passed around and beyond the city of Tezcuco into his own territory, where a bivouac was established, and his warriors given a rest. So far as it could be done, order in his shattered ranks was restored, and the march to his capital resumed and ended.
No acclamations or demonstrations of approval greeted the return of the imperial army to Azcapozalco. With solemn, funereal tread it entered the royal city, which soon became filled with a wail of woe ascending from the bereaved and stricken inhabitants, who mourned for the missing and slain. How different was its departure!
Maxtla did not despair under the greatly adverse conditions in which he found himself after his short and disastrous campaign, but immediately set about reorganizing his army, with a view to recovering his imperial standing. His domain embraced a thickly populated territory, and was not lacking in material from which to reconstruct his depleted forces. The outcome of it was that, in a very short time, he was better prepared for war than when he went forth to meet the allies.
The prisoners taken in the battles by his warriors were brought safely through, and, as was the custom, placed in confinement to await their doom of sacrifice upon the altars of the Tepanec deities.
Ixtlilchoatl, greatly elated over the successes which had so suddenly been achieved by the armies under him, and, having conceived the idea of giving Hualcoyotl a magnificent reception back to his own, began at once to get things in shape for a grand entry into Tezcuco. Then followed the memorable march to the city, which, we are told, was one continued ovation to the returning prince. "He entered his capital," says the chronicler, "not like a proscribed outcast, but as the rightful heir to a throne, receiving, at the same time, the homage of his joyful subjects." His triumph was complete, but, with it all, there was an aching void in his heart: his enemy had escaped, and carried with him, as he supposed, the best of all his friends.
He was back in his palace, surrounded by the men who had stood with him in the fierce and deadly conflicts through which he was compelled to pass to reach it. Ix, the warrior hermit, whose intelligence and sagacity had directed the army to victory; Macua and his princely consorts; Tezcot, the wise hunter and good friend; Cacami, now a warrior whose undoubted bravery and skill were conspicuously shown in more than one furious encounter, and which were fully appreciated by the prince; and Menke, Oza and Kan, and many others who have held no particular place in our narrative, yet worthy of it when valorous deeds are considered, were there engaged in celebrating, in an enthusiastic manner, the event of their lives—the victorious close of a remarkable conflict.
Now, indeed, was Tezcuco free from Tepanec enthrallment, her people restored to their ancient privileges, and her prince brought back from an outlawed condition to the enjoyment of his inherited rights.
The power of the military immediately supervened, but its rule was not oppressive, for Ix, the hermit, was not a tyrant.
The greatest activity in all things suddenly became apparent. The king's palace quickly became a scene of rustling animation. While artisans were laboring to restore it to its ancient splendor, the prince and his attendants were busily engaged in bringing order out of chaos. Ah, how he missed his two best friends, Euetzin and Itzalmo, in that hour of incipient well-being and future greatness!
The teocallis were receiving needed attention, after years of neglect and waste, in anticipation of the coming rites, which were to be celebrated in honor of the prince's coronation.
The spirit of self-interest and industry, which had lain dormant in the hearts of the enslaved Tezcucans since the subversion of their government, was revived with their restoration to liberty, and activity prevailed where only a few days before was lethargy and inaction. Wonderful transformation! The people were free!