“Only, that as she was helpless, she left everything to you. She dares not oppose the king.”
“I understand!” exclaimed the ’tzin, starting from the bench again. “The Tezcucan is my enemy. Crossing the lake, night before the combat, he told me he loved Tula, and charged me with designs against the Empire, and cursed the king and his crown. Next day he fought under my challenge. The malice of a mean soul cannot be allayed by kindness. But for me the tamanes would have buried him with the Tlascalans. I sent him to my house; my slaves tended him; yet his hate was only sharpened.”
He paced the floor to and fro, speaking vehemently.
“The ingrate charges me with aspiring to the throne. Judge me, holy gods! Judge how willingly I would lay down my life to keep the crown where it is! He says my palace has been open to men of the army. It was always so,—I am a warrior. I have consulted them about the Empire, but always as a subject, never for its ill. Such charges I laugh at; but that I sought to slay the king is too horrible for endurance. On the day of the combat, about the time of the assemblage, I went to the Cû of Quetzal’ for blessing. I saw no smoke or other sign of fire upon the tower. Mualox was gone, and I trembled lest the fire should be dead. I climbed up, and found only a few living embers. There were no fagots on the roof, nor in the court-yard; the shrine was abandoned, Mualox old. The desolation appealed to me. The god seemed to claim my service. I broke my spear and shield, and flung the fragments into the urn, then hastened to the palace, loaded some tamanes with wood, and went back to the Cû. I was not too late there; but, hurrying to the tianguez, I found myself almost dishonored. So was I kept from the arena; that service to the god is now helping my enemy as proof that I was waiting on a housetop to murder my king and kinsman! Alas! I have only slaves to bear witness to the holy work that kept me on the temple. Much I fear the gods are making the king blind for his ruin and the ruin of us all. He believes the strangers on the coast are from the Sun, when they are but men. Instead of war against them, he is thinking of embassies and presents. Now, more than ever, he needs the support of friends; but he divides his family against itself, and confers favors on enemies. I see the danger. Unfriendly gods are moving against us, not in the strangers, but in our own divisions. Remember the prophecy of Mualox, ‘The race of Azatlan is ended forever.’”
The speaker stopped his walking, and his voice became low and tremulous.
“Yet I love him; he has been kind; he gave me command; through his graciousness I have dwelt unmolested in this palace of my father. I am bound to him by love and law. As he has been my friend, I will be his; when his peril is greatest, I will be truest. Nothing but ill from him to Anahuac can make me his enemy. So, so,—let it pass. I trust the future to the gods.”
Then, as if seeking to rid himself of the bitter subject, he turned to Io’. “Did not some one come with you?”
The boy told what he knew of Hualpa.
“I take him to be no common fellow; he has some proud ideas. I think you would like him.”
“I will try your hunter, Io’. And if he is what you say of him, I will accept his service.”