CHAPTER VII
THE CHRISTIANS IN THE TOILS
“Let the azoteas be cleared of all but my family. You, my brother, will remain.”
So saying, the king arose, and began walking again. As he did so, the cross slipped from his fingers, and fell, ringing sharply upon the roof. Nenetzin sprang forward and picked the symbol up.
“Now, call the messengers.”
When the chief was gone, the monarch stepped to Cuitlahua, and, laying a hand upon his arm, said, “At last, O brother, at last! The time so long prayed for is come. The enemy is in the snare, and he is mine. So the god of our fathers has promised. The messengers bring me his permission to make war.”
“At last! Praised be Huitzil’!” exclaimed Cuitlahua, with upraised hands and eyes.
“Praised be Huitzil’!” cried Tula, with equal fervor.
“Malinche began his march to Tenochtitlan against my order, which, for a purpose, I afterwards changed to invitation. Since that, my people, my army, the lords, the pabas, the Empire, have upbraided me for weakness. I only bided my time, and the assent of Huitzil’. And the result? The palace of Axaya’ shall be the tomb of the insolent strangers.”
As he spoke, the monarch’s bosom swelled with the old warrior spirit.