“Yes, thanks to Huitzil’! He has broken one of Malinche’s towers to pieces, and killed everybody in it.”
Hualpa’s love quickened suddenly. “Blessed be all the gods!” he cried, and, passing on, ascended to the azoteas. It may have been the battle, full of invocations, as battles always are; or it may have been that Io’, in full enjoyment of his command, and so earnest in its performance, stimulated his ambition; or it may have been the influence of his peculiar sorrow, the haunting memories of his love, and she, its star, separated from him by so little,—something made him restless and feverish. He talked with the caciques and priests; he clomb the turret, and watched the smoke go softly up, and hide itself in the deeper blue of the sky; with Io’, he stood on the temple’s verge, and witnessed the fight, at times using bow and sling; but nothing brought him relief. The opportunity he had so long desired was here calling him, and passing away. O for an hour of liberty to enact himself!
Unable to endure the excitement, he started in search of the ’tzin, knowing that, wherever he was, there was action, if not opportunity. At that moment he saw a cacique in the street plant a ladder against the wall of the palace not far from the main gate. The Tlascalans defending at that point tried to throw it off, but a shower of stones from the terrace of the temple deluged them, and they disappeared. Up went the cacique, up went his followers; they gained the crest; then the conflict passed from Hualpa’s view.
“Io’,” he said, “when the ’tzin comes back, tell him I have gone to make a way for him through yon wall.”
“Have a care, comrade; have a care!”
Hualpa put an arm around him, and replied, smiling, “There is one over the wall now: if he fears not, shall I? And then,”—he whispered low,—“Nenetzin will despise me if I come not soon.”
A dawning fell upon Io’, and from that time he knew the power of love.
“The gods go with you! Farewell.”
Hualpa set about his purpose deliberately. Near the door of the presence-chamber there was a pile of trophies, shields, arms, and armor of men and horses; he made some selections from the heap, and carried them into the chamber. When he came out, under his panache there was a steel cap, and under his mantle a cuirass; and to some dead Spaniard he was further beholden for a shield and battle-axe,—the latter so called, notwithstanding it had a head like a hammer, and a handle of steel pointed at the end and more than a yard in length.
Thus prepared, he went down into the street, and forced his way to the ladder planted near the gate; thence to the crest of the wall. A hundred arrows splintered against his shield, as he looked down upon the combat yet maintained by the brave cacique at the foot of the banquette.