Casca 10: The Conquistador (15 page)

Moctezuma played his part with a heavy heart, for even with the words of the god still in his ear, he did not like being the instrument of his world's collapse. To his nobles he gave these words:

"My kinsmen, friends, and servants, I have been your king for eighteen years. As my ancestors were before me, I have tried to be a good master as you have been my good and faithful friends and servants, and this I trust you are now and will be all the days of my life." At the words "my life," he recalled the words of the god who had said to him, even to giving up your own life! If he died, would his people still be loyal, and if so, to whom or what? He pulled his thoughts back to those who awaited his next words with fear and anger.

"You remember that which our fathers said, that we are not born of this country and our kingdom is not one to endure forever, because the rightful master of this land came from a distant land and returned there, saying one day that he would come back."

Casca stood behind a crossbowman as Moctezuma spoke. This part of the legend was not cited with the words he had used when he had left Teotihuacan, but after so many centuries, it was not unreasonable for stories to have items added or deleted. No matter, the tale would serve well enough.

Moctezuma leaned on the arm of his nephew Cacama as if the weight of his words were suddenly incredibly heavy.

"Those we have been expecting have returned. They are here before you." He indicated the hard-faced, pale Castilians.

"Let us give thanks to the gods that those we have so desired to see have come among us at last. You will please me by giving yourself and your loyalty to this man who is the representative and spirit of the god Quetzalcoatl. I implore you to obey him as you would me. Give to him all that you would give me, for all that I have is his. Swear him this service and you can do me no greater service or in a better fashion prove your love."

At his words the nobles wept openly. Groans and sobs came from their chests but they did as he commanded, for he was the king. But there were two who did not make the oath of fealty to Cortes, and only one man noticed. Casca saw clearly that while Cacama's mouth moved, no sound came out of it. The nephew of the king was looking straight at another man as he performed his mock oath. Cuahtemoc, a kinsman of Moctezuma as was Cacama, performed the same soundless ritual. Casca followed Cacama's eyes and knew that this was the beginning of trouble.

Before Cortes had arrested Moctezuma, he had found a wall in his room where the whitewash was lighter in shade than it was on the other walls. He called in several of his men, and they scraped the wall clean and found a doorway that was now blocked with stone and mortar. Once this was cleared away, Cortes entered the room and found an amazing quantity of gold, artwork of silver and feathers, and idols and jewels beyond anything they had yet seen. As the hidden room was connected to his own quarters, he had the door resealed and said nothing of it to Moctezuma.

From the storehouses of the king, the Spaniards took everything that had belonged to Moctezuma, working themselves into a state of exhaustion as they ripped the gold trim from shields and ornaments and piled gold nose plugs and bracelets in heaps like so much trash. From the idols, they pried out the jewels and ripped off the necklaces of emeralds and turquoise. Even Juan was caught up in the madness, draping strands of precious stones around his neck and stuffing his purse with gold and silver. This was what he had come after! The Aztecs watched them in amazement, wondering why their gods did not strike the infidels down.

All this Cortes had removed to his quarters. If he had to leave in a hurry, he would not leave with empty hands. There was enough in that one room to buy a hundred lifetimes of gracious living.

Cortes kept the chains of Moctezuma's confinement very loose. As long as he obeyed and made no trouble, he was allowed his own servants and was free to come and go as he wished without hindrance, except that there were always Spanish soldiers with his party. Cortes was confused by the way Moctezuma spoke to him. Sometimes it was as if Moctezuma thought he was a god; at others, as if he were a simple child who didn't know anything about the world he was living in. Much of Moctezuma's conversation had to be with his gods. For Cortes the defeat of the Aztec gods would be the next step to gaining complete control over the Indians. Making the religion of Spain their own would give him still greater control over the simple minds of the Indians.

This led to one of his few mistakes. In a moment of passion, when he and a party of his soldiers escorted Moctezuma to the temple of Huitzilopochtli, he had his men throw down the idols of the gods from their pedestals, smashing them when they could and striking those they couldn't break with their swords. The Eagle knights again had to be restrained by Moctezuma from attacking the Spaniards.

When Cortes saw the violent reaction of the Eagles, he thought it would be best not to pursue his efforts any further. If that was the manner in which all the Aztecs would respond to the destruction of their idols, it would be best to wait for another time. He did get Moctezuma to make one concession. There would be no more human offerings as long as the Spanish were in the city. Moctezuma agreed and gave the orders, but Cortes was certain that the priests were still making offerings of hearts and blood. However, he did not want to push the issue too far, for he was not yet in a strong enough position to enforce it.

From Mexico he sent out parties to scout the country and its peoples to find where the gold of the Aztecs came from and who their neighbors were. This was a time for consolidation, a time to build new friends among the tribes who were not subject to the Aztecs. If the Aztecs ever rebelled against him, they would be needed.

Casca had been right about Cacama. Within two months he was in a state of near revolt from his city of Texcoco, where he was master. He had refused to admit the Spaniards to his city and drove them away with insults. When Cortes complained to Moctezuma of Cacama's attitude and treatment of his men, the king sent for his nephew, asking him to come to Tenochtitlan so that he might meet with Cortes in order to settle their differences peacefully. To this Cacama sent his answer by messenger!

"I feel no friendship for the Spaniards and less for their king across the sea, for they have taken away my honor and kingdom. There will be war, if not in your name then in mine, for the honor of our gods and fathers. I know that the words you send are not your own. They come from the mouth of the foreigner who stands with his knife at your back. I shall avenge you, too, my lord, and restore you to your proper place. The strangers have weakened your blood with words and lies, but I will not let them destroy our people or our gods. There shall be war!"

Cortes was worried and with good reason. Cacama had a reputation for being a tough man and had under his rule not only Texcoco but several other large cities. If he could gather on his side a few more Aztec lords with their forces, there was a good chance the Spaniards would never leave the land of the Aztecs alive.

Moctezuma knew what he had to do, for the god had warned him of this. He would stop his nephew, though it broke his heart to do so. He secretly called to him several lords and war chiefs who served with Cacama in Texcoco. Some obeyed him because he was still king, others because he promised them rewards of cities if they would serve him.

Cortes admired the manner in which Moctezuma dealt with the situation. The ability to suborn and connive was always among the attributes of a good leader. It was always better to use brains instead of weapons in the field, and in the long run it was much less expensive. Cacama was seized during a council meeting and brought in bonds to Tenochtitlan. Before bringing him to the king, his captors placed him in a gilded litter, as befitted his noble station. They carried him on their shoulders to face the judgment of the Spaniards through the mouth of their king.

For once Cortes listened to Moctezuma, who told him that if they put Cacama to death or harmed him in any way, there would be civil war, for then none of the great lords would feel secure. They would band together against the Spaniards. This made sense to Cortes. He gave orders that Cacama was not to be harmed but was to be held with manacles to prevent his escape. He would remain under the guard of Spanish soldiers at all times.

In anticipation of trouble, Cortes increased his demands for the Aztecs to bring him their treasures. The gold began to pile up. Idols, statuary, plates, and goblets were melted down to make their handling easier. Countless works of priceless art went to the melting pots for the sake of convenience in handling. The treasures of the Aztecs were his, for the people were used to obeying their kings without question, although some of the Aztecs tried to keep their wealth for themselves. This the Spaniards considered a very unreasonable and unfriendly thing to do.

If it had not been for the number of his Indian allies, Cortes was certain that he would have been attacked and killed. The Aztecs did not like having their ancient enemies in their city or mocking them at their borders.

To the enemies of the Aztecs, Cortes sent greetings and gifts, planning against the day he was increasingly certain would come. This worry was compounded when from Vera Cruz he received word that one Panfilo de Narvaez, a friend of his old enemy, Alvarez, the lieutenant governor, had come against him. He brought with him eleven ships and an army of men and arms for the sole purpose of destroying Cortes and his men so that he could take the gold they had gathered for themselves.

He would have to leave Tenochtitlan or lose his bases on the coast. His anxiety was further increased when Moctezuma had asked him several times in the last few days to leave Mexico with all his men unless he wished to get himself and all of them killed. For every day he was less certain of whom among his lords he could count on. He promised Cortes that if he left for a time, he would be able to regain his power and the Spaniards could come back.

Cortes rejected Moctezuma's suggestion. He would not give up what he had gained, but he still had to leave for the coast. He gambled, though this was not a time when he would have chosen to split his forces. He felt that he had no choice.

He left the care of the city and the king in the hands of Pedro de Alvarado, a pious Christian and a brave captain. Cortes took all his horses but ten and called in all his men who were out scouting the countryside. He left Pedro one hundred and fifty men and two cannon along with a thousand Tlaxcalans and Cempolans to guard their captive king and their treasure; then he marched for the coast to deal with Narvaez.

Among those who remained behind were Juan de Castro and Casca. It was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid meeting with de Castro. Casca had to make special efforts to dodge his one-time friend. It was with regret that he saw the change in the young man – his contempt for the Indians and lust for the treasures of the Aztecs. Juan de Castro was experiencing the full arrogance of his pride and youth. Casca felt as if he had somehow failed him. If he had remained with Juan, perhaps he could have prevented his being infected by the madness that rode the rest of the conquistadors.

There were some who watched the Spanish force leave their city with satisfaction. Cuahtemoc stood on the pyramid of the fire god Xiuhtecuhtli with his bodyguard of Ocelot warriors. He prayed that the Spaniards would destroy themselves on the coast; then, in time, he would exterminate those few who remained in his city with their hated allies.

Cortes had been gone three weeks when a delegation of nobles petitioned Pedro for permission to hold the annual festival of the war god. Pedro had been ordered by Cortes not to do anything to cause trouble if it could be avoided, and he was curious about how the celebration was conducted. He gave them permission, stating only that there must be no human sacrifice.

Once the Aztecs had permission, they began to prepare for the celebration. The women began to grind the seeds of the chiclote in the patio of the temple under the eyes of the Castilians, who kept a careful watch on the preparations. From the seeds the women made a thick paste and from that began to construct a statue over a wicker frame, giving it the body of a living man in every detail.

When it was completed, they dressed it in the finest of feather work and painted crossbars of black over and under the eyes. Earrings of mosaic serpents worked in turquoise were hung from its ears. A gold nose plug in the shape of an arrow was set in place. On its head they set the magic headdress of hummingbird feathers, and around its neck an ornament of yellow parrot feathers trimmed with gems. Then came his cape of nettles painted black, decorated with five clusters of eagle feathers to symbolize Mexico.

Next
came the cloak and vest, decorated with skulls and bones, painted with pictures of dismembered human bodies, skulls, ears, feet, hearts, hands, and intestines. In its left hand they placed a shield, in the other four arrows. On its headdress was set a sacrificial dagger made of red paper. The god was ready for his people to pay homage.

Pedro de Alvarado, accompanied by de Castro, who felt as he did, observed the preparations with a growing feeling of disgust at the blasphemy of the savages and their loathsome worship. His hands sweated freely as he tightened his grip on the handle of his sword. The animals! They should all be slaughtered so that this place would be cleansed of their vile practices and made pure for the glory of the living Christ instead of these filthy blood-soaked idols.

Casca stood in the background, watching the Aztecs and the Castilians. It was not good that Cortes was gone at this time. He could see from the paleness of the lips on de Alvarado and Juan that the men wanted to kill.

Cuahtemoc also watched the preparations. He knew what the strangers felt for his people and their religion, but he was not displeased at Cortes leaving one such as de Alvarado in charge. He could see clearly that the Spaniard was a man of great passion. Things were going to turn out as he wished.

When the sun rose the next morning, the statue's face was uncovered by those chosen for that privilege. Gathering in single file in front of their god, they offered it gifts of food. The statue was not carried to the top of the temple; it would remain in the patio until the dancing was over. The young warriors from both the Eagle knights and the Ocelots began the dance. The Ocelots were there because their patron was the brother of the war god.

Then began the dance of the serpent as the patio filled with men who had fasted many days to purify their bodies and spirits for the occasion.
The dancers were kept in a single file by those who fasted and were tapped with wands if they began to lose their place.

The warriors danced without resting, hour after hour. If they had to urinate, they did so without leaving the line. Each of the warriors was dressed in his finest attire. The patio was a swarm of brilliant colors that weaved and bobbed to the beat of skin and clay drums, a rainbow serpent that twisted and leaped to the trill of flutes.

From the temple of the war god, Cuahtemoc rested one hip on the altar, pleased to see that he had been correct in his analysis of the Spaniards' reactions to the festival. Even now Castilians were moving in to block off the entrances to the patio, and de Alvarado, with de Castro, whom he had made his aide de camp, escorted by ten of his men, was walking toward the altar in front of the idol where the offerings of food had been made. This was what Cuahtemoc had been waiting for.

Casca was with the detachment of Spaniards securing the southern entrance to the patio. He could see de Alvarado as he stood in front of the statue of the god and looked down at the offerings which had been brought to it. The scream of rage and fury bursting out of the throat of the Spaniard grated
over the high trillings of the flutes. There, among the cakes and flowers, he saw the dismembered body of a baby set out delicately as food for the god.

Crying out to his men, he drew his sword and began to slash at the dancing figures, cutting them down. Joined by de Castro and his escort, they began to slaughter the unarmed dancers. From the Spaniards, who now surrounded the patio, came the crack of musket fire. Then they moved in with sword and pike, wading into the dancers, killing everyone they could reach, Juan de Castro attacked the man playing the largest drum and cut his arms off at the shoulders. Then, with a full swing, he separated his head from its body.