During the progress of this fierce and sanguinary battle Huetzin slept peacefully as a child, and not until after the return of the weary, but victorious, Spaniards to their camp did he wake. In the earlier hours of the day Marina, from the roof of the temple in which he lay, watched the progress of the fight with a fearful interest that was yet divided in its loyalty. She had cast her lot with these strangers, who had rescued her from slavery, and treated her with courtesy. But for the shelter of their camps she was homeless, and but for their strong arms she was without a protector in the world. And yet, those with whom they now fought were of her own race. The defeat of either side would fill her with sadness. Would that they might be friends rather than enemies! Then, indeed, would she rejoice! How might such a happy result be brought about? What could she do to further it?
In spite of these crowding thoughts, and in spite of the thrilling interest of the battle raging with varying fortunes below her, the girl was not so unmindful of her duty but that she descended several times to look after the welfare of her patients. On one of these occasions, though the young courier still slept, she found him muttering incoherently, and, to her amazement his words were spoken in the Mayan tongue.
When Huetzin awoke, greatly refreshed and possessed of all his faculties, he lay motionless for a while, bewildered by his surroundings and striving to account for the strange sights and sounds about him. Many other wounded men lay on the floor of the room in which he now found himself, and, ministering to their wants were a number of women. He could see that while the former were of a strange race, the women were of Anahuac. Strange weapons, such as he had never seen, were scattered on all sides, and he heard rough voices speaking in an unknown tongue. He had thought, or dreamed, that his sister Tiata was with him, but now he looked for her in vain, and heaved a deep sigh that it must have been a dream.
Suddenly he realized that the wounded men about him were white and bearded. It flashed into his mind that they must be of those whom his father had termed the "White Conquerors." Gradually the past came back to him. He remembered his own flight from Tenochtitlan, the courier, and his despatches telling of war between these strangers and the Tlascalans. He recalled his own determination, and his efforts to reach Tlascala in time to put an end to fighting before either side should be conquered. Then came a vision of terrible beings, armed with gleaming weapons, pursuing a crowd of fleeing natives through the streets of a Tlascalan village he had just entered. He recalled his dismay at sight of them, and his resolution in spite of it to intercede with their leader and beg him to stay the hands of his followers. After that all was blank.
Huetzin's head throbbed, and he raised his hand to it. He felt that he had been wounded; but how, or by whom, he knew not. Had he, too, been fighting? He tried to rise, but fell back, amazed and indignant at his own weakness. As though the movement had attracted attention, one of the women hastened to where he lay and knelt beside him. She was young and beautiful, even more so than Tiata he thought, as he gazed into her face. She spoke soothingly to him, and, to his surprise, her words were in the Mayan tongue, which was also that of the Toltecs, and had been taught him by his father. Then she left him, but soon returned bringing broth and wine, of which he drank eagerly.
He asked her, in the Mayan language, who she was, and where they were, receiving for answer that she was Marina, and that they were in the camp of the Christians, from whom he had naught to fear. Then, saying that he must talk no more but must again sleep, she left him, and when he slept he dreamed of one called Marina, who was beautiful, more beautiful even than Tiata.
When the young Toltec next awoke, another day had come, and his strength was so far recovered that he sat up, and felt that he might walk if he were allowed to try. As he sat gazing with eager curiosity upon those about him, Marina came again, bringing him food, of which he ate heartily, but still forbidding him to rise. Then they talked together, and he told her, unreservedly, who he was, of his father's brave death in Tenochtitlan, of his own escape from a like fate, and why he had come to Tlascala.
Marina was amazed, and yet rejoiced, at what she heard. It seemed to her that through the influence of this stranger her own cherished hope of an alliance between Tlascala and the Spaniards might be brought about. Filled with this thought the girl spoke little of herself, but told him of what had taken place since the arrival of the conquerors in the republic, of the terrible battles already fought and her fears that more were to follow. Then she begged him to think of some way by which the fighting might be ended and peace declared.
While they talked a young man entered the place, and came directly to where they were. At sight of him Marina told Huetzin that it was he who had saved him from death and brought him to this place. Thereupon the young Toltec seized the other's hand and kissed it, and said many grateful things that were not understood. Then Marina, speaking in Spanish, of which by this time she had acquired a fair command, told Sandoval the story of Huetzin's escape from the altars of Tenochtitlan in so vivid a manner that, when she finished, the listener crossed himself and uttered a pious ejaculation of amazement.
Nor was he less amazed when Huetzin excitedly sprang to his feet and asked if he too were a Toltec? If not, how came he to know and use the holy sign of the God of the Four Winds?
When the purport of this question was explained to Sandoval, he answered that he most certainly was not a Toltec, but was a Spaniard, and that the sign, just made by him was that of the cross, the sacred symbol of the Christian religion. Then, in turn, he bade Marina ask Huetzin whether he were a Christian, and, if not, how it came that he had made use of that same sign upon the occasion of their first meeting?
Without hesitation the other answered that while he knew not the meaning of the term Christian, he had made the sign of the cross, which was also the symbol of the god of his fathers, when he thought himself dying. He added that his warrior father had made the same sign as his last conscious act, and that, since it represented the religion of the white conquerors, both they and he must worship the same gods.
The translation of these words aroused the deepest interest in the mind of Sandoval, who recalled the ancient stone crosses that the Spaniards had seen and marvelled at in the land of the Mayas. After some reflection he bade Marina ask if the gods worshipped by Huetzin were not also those of the Aztecs? The young man replied, indignantly, that they were not, adding that the gods of his Toltec fathers abhorred the bloody rites and human sacrifices of the Aztec priesthood, and demanded only offerings of fruits, flowers, and on great occasions the blood of beasts. He also explained that as his father's life had been devoted to the overthrow of the cruel Aztec gods, so should his own be devoted.
When this was understood by Sandoval, his eyes sparkled with gladness, and, grasping Huetzin's hand, he exclaimed: "Now I know for what great purpose I was moved to save thy life! Henceforth shall we be as brothers! Thy quarrel shall be mine, and mine thine! When thou art recovered thy full strength I will arm thee as becomes a Christian, and teach thee to fight as a Christian. In token of this thou shalt hereafter be called 'Juan,' which was the name of my own brother, now dwelling with the saints in glory."
Although Huetzin failed at the time to comprehend these words, he read the sentiment expressed in the other's face, understood the meaning of the sturdy hand-grasp, and was filled with a great joy. This was the end of conversation for the present; and, at Marina's suggestion, Huetzin was again left to rest.
That night the Tlascalans made an attack on the Spanish camp; and when the defenders returned from repelling it Sandoval was greatly concerned to learn, from Marina, that his newly adopted brother had disappeared, leaving no trace of where he had gone. To her news the Indian maiden added, mysteriously, that she did not believe they had seen the last of him; but she could not be persuaded to name her reason for so thinking.
By these repeated attacks not only was the Spanish force constantly weakened, but many of its members were so disheartened that they became clamorous for Cortes to give over his hopeless attempt to reach the Aztec capital, and lead them back to the coast. If this petty mountain republic could offer such determined opposition to their progress, what might they not expect from the powerful nation whom they had yet to meet? was the question that even the undaunted leader found it difficult to answer. At the same time the camp was filled with rumors of the gathering, for their destruction, of another Tlascalan army, greater and more formidable than any they had yet encountered. Food was becoming scarce with them, for they had wasted the neighborhood with fire and sword, there was much sickness in camp, and even the White Conqueror himself was ill of a fever, aggravated by anxiety.
The affairs of the Spaniards stood thus for several days: but one morning, when gloom and despair had wellnigh reached their climax, the camp was gladdened by the approach of a small but imposing body of Tlascalan chiefs, wearing white badges, indicative of a peaceful errand. At their head walked a young man whose noble appearance and martial bearing attracted admiration even from the Spaniards. Over a cuirass of golden scales he wore a magnificent feather cloak, in which were harmoniously blended the most brilliant colors. Boots of tanned leather, ornamented with gold and jewels, reached to his thighs. On his head he wore a golden casque, decorated with the graceful plumes of a white heron. This, and the colors of his cloak, designated him as belonging to the house of Titcala. His only weapon was a Spanish sword of the finest Toledo steel, which was recognized to be the one sent as a present by Cortes to the Tlascalans with his first embassy.
Proudly advancing between the curious but orderly ranks of Spanish soldiers, to where Cortes stood, surrounded by his captains, and with Marina near at hand to act as interpreter, the young man made respectful obeisance by touching the ground with his hand and raising it to his head. Then he said:
"My Lord Malinche (the native name for Cortes) I am commissioned by the Great Council of Tlascala to invite you, with your army, to become the honored guests of their city, and there discuss with them the terms of a solemn treaty of peace and alliance. Even now Xicoten, the war chief of all Tlascalan armies, follows me to pledge his friendship, and urge your acceptance of this invitation."
Then for a moment, forgetful of the dignity of his position, the young man turned to Sandoval, and lifting that sturdy soldier's hand to his lips, exclaimed: "My brother, to whom I owe my life, now will we indeed fight side by side!" to which the astonished captain replied, though in nowise comprehending the other's words:
"By the holy St. Jago! it is no other than Huetzin, my young Toltec, the captive of my bow and spear!"
When Huetzin was left alone on the night of the Tlascalan attack, and knew, by the sounds from outside, that the entire Spanish garrison had gone to repel it, he conceived the idea of leaving the unguarded camp, making his way to that of Xicoten, and of endeavoring to persuade that impetuous war-chief to put an end to fighting. Although still weak, he felt that his will would carry him through the undertaking. Making his cautious way to the outer door of the temple, he was there confronted by Marina, who was just entering. Alarmed at the sight of a patient thus disobeying her command to rest quietly until he had recovered his strength, she at once ordered him back to his bed.
Smiling, but resolutely disregarding the stern command of this gentle mistress, Huetzin led her outside and there unfolded his plan. Marina replied that while it was a noble one, and met with her full approbation, he had not yet the strength to carry it out. Whereupon Huetzin suddenly threw his arms about her, lifted her lightly from the ground, kissed her full on the lips, and set her gently down again.
Springing to a safe distance, the girl, with burning cheeks and a well-assumed anger, abused him soundly for so shameful an act, and indignantly bade him be-gone, with the hope that she might never set eyes on him again. As he turned to obey her, she added that, if he ever dared to return, except as an ambassador of peace from Tlascala, she should certainly refuse to recognize him in any way. Then hurrying to the top of the temple, where, by the bright moonlight, she could discern something of what was taking place below, she prayed to the gods for the safety of the youth whom she had but now so bitterly denounced.
In the meantime Huetzin, filled with other thoughts than those of wounds or weakness, hurried down the hillside, on the opposite side from that on which the fighting was taking place, and, making a great circuit, gained the camp of the Tlascalans, who had just returned, filled with sullen rage, from the scene of their fourth defeat. Here he found it impossible to pass the guards, who, to his plea that he bore a most important communication for their general, replied that the latter would see no one that night.
Thus it was not until late on the following day that Huetzin gained audience of his haughty cousin, who, smarting under his reverses, was in much the temper of a caged lion recently deprived of its liberty. Although he recognized the son of Tlahuicol he refused to admit that he did so. When the latter ventured to speak of the mission on which he had come, the irate war-chief broke forth in a tirade of abuse, not only against the Spaniards, who, he declared, he would yet sweep from the face of the earth, but against all Tlascalan traitors, who, if they had escaped the sacrifice they so well deserved, should no longer escape from the just wrath of their patriot countrymen. Then, calling in the officer of his guard, Xicoten commanded that the young rebel, as he designated Huetzin, be seized, conveyed to the city, and thrown into the deepest dungeon of the temple.
As resistance to this cruel mandate would have been worse than useless, Huetzin suffered himself to be led quietly away by a file of soldiers, and, on the following morning, was taken to the city of Tlascala. Here, as he was hurried through the narrow streets, seeking in vain for a friendly face among the multitudes who thronged them, his heart was filled with such bitterness that he almost regretted not having turned traitor to his country and remained to share the fortune or fate of the white conquerors.
While he was thus sorrowfully reflecting, and walking mechanically between his stolid guards, there came an obstruction in the street that compelled them to halt. Looking up Huetzin caught sight of that which caused his heart to beat with a new hope. A silver-haired old man, evidently blind, was being borne past in a splendidly appointed litter. Above it waved a panache of heron's plumes, and its bearers wore the yellow and white livery of the house of Titcala. It was his own grandfather, the aged chieftain of Titcala, on his way to a meeting of the Great Council of the republic.
Freeing himself from his guards with a sudden movement, the young man sprang to the side of the litter, crying:
"My lord! oh, my lord! I am Huetzin, son of Tlahuicol, and of thy daughter! I am, moreover, in sore distress! Extend to me thy protection, I pray thee!"
Thus suddenly aroused from a deep reverie, the old man at first failed to comprehend what was said or who was speaking; but, on a repetition of the words, he commanded Huetzin to approach that he might identify him. This he did by slowly passing his sensitive fingers over the young man's face, as he had been used to do in former years. Finally he exclaimed, in trembling tones:
"It is indeed Huetzin, son of my son, and blood of my blood! But how camest thou here? Did I not hear that thou wert dead? They told me that thou, and thy noble father, mine own sweet child, and the little Tiata, had all been sacrificed on the bloody altars of Huitzil. How is it? Do Tlahuicol and his still live?"
"No, my lord," answered Huetzin. "Both my brave father and my beautiful mother have departed to the realms of the sun. As for Tiata I know not if she still lives. I myself have thrice escaped; once from the altars of Tenochtitlan, once from the camp of the white conquerors, and even now from the soldiers of Xicoten, who would lead me to a Tlascalan dungeon. But my story will keep for a later telling. First, I must deliver the last message of Tlahuicol, which is of vital importance to the republic for which he gave his life. Is there no place other than this street where I may entrust it to thy ears?"
"If it concerns the republic," answered the aged chieftain, "then it is for the senate, who even now await my presence. Come thou with me, and deliver it directly to those who must judge of its importance."
In that city the will of its most honored councillor was supreme, and not even the soldiers of Xicoten dared dispute it. Therefore Huetzin's guard allowed him to accompany his aged grandfather to the senate chamber, making respectful way for them to pass, but following closely behind in readiness to prevent any further escape of their prisoner.
The councillors of the republic, assembled to discuss the momentous question of war or peace with the terrible white conquerors, whose coming had shaken the nation to its foundations, rose and stood with bowed heads as their aged president appeared and was led to the seat of honor. As he passed them, they gazed with surprise at the meanly clad youth who walked beside him with a bearing as proud as that of any prince, and marvelled as to who he might be.
When the lord of Titcala faced them with his sightless eyes, and announced that this same youth was his grandson, the son of Tlahuicol, and that he had but now escaped from Tenochtitlan, bringing them a message from his dead father, a murmur of recognition and amazement swept over the assembly.
Then Huetzin, standing before them in his robe of tattered and blood-stained nequen, told, in the simple language with which oratory is made most effective, his story of the past year. He told of Tlahuicol's unswerving loyalty to his adopted country, despite the splendid offers of Montezuma to desert her and enter his service. He repeated his father's last words in a voice that trembled with emotion, and described with thrilling effect the final battle of the great Tlascalan war-chief. He told of his own escape, through the direct interposition of the gods, from the very knife of sacrifice, and of his experience in the camp of the white conquerors. He described his leaving it and his reception by Xicoten. Finally, he concluded with so strong an argument in favor of a Tlascalan alliance with the powerful strangers, against the hated Aztec, that none who heard him could resist his eloquence; and, when he finished, he was greeted with such a storm of applause as had never before swept over that solemn chamber.
As Huetzin stepped back to his grandfather's side the aged chieftain embraced and blessed him, while tears streamed from his sightless eyes. Then, declaring that his vote should, now and always, be for an alliance with the Spaniards, and begging to be excused from the deliberations of that day, the lord of Titcala retired, taking Huetzin with him, to his own palace. Here the young man was bathed in perfumed waters and clad as became his rank, and here he rested, recovering his strength, during all of that day. In the meantime the news of his return had spread through the city, and was received with such joy that, the next morning, when he appeared in the streets, on his way to the senate chamber, to which he had been summoned, he was greeted with universal enthusiasm.
By the councillors of the republic the dignity of the command of a division of the Tlascalan army was conferred upon the young warrior; also, in consideration of the life services of his father, he was presented with the most valuable weapon in all Tlascala, the sword of Toledo steel that Cortes had sent as a gift to the republic. Last and best of all, the newly made chieftain was commissioned to proceed at once to the camp of the white conquerors, and invite them, in the name of the republic, to visit the capital city, there to settle upon the terms of an everlasting peace and alliance.
Thus was Huetzin's cup of happiness filled to overflowing. There was but one drop of bitterness mingled with it. He was instructed to visit his cousin, Xicoten, on his way to the Christian camp, convey to that arrogant general the command of the senate that there must be no more fighting, and invite him, as the war-chief, to head, in person, the embassy to Cortes.
So the son of Tlahuicol, who had entered his native city a despised prisoner, clad in rags, left it, the next day, an honored chieftain, robed with the gorgeousness of his rank, and heading the most important embassy the New World had ever seen.
When he reached Xicoten's camp that hot-headed warrior, while not daring to openly oppose the messenger of the senate, yet managed to delay him for a whole day, while he secretly despatched spies to discover the condition of the Spaniards. If their report should prove favorable he was resolved on another attack, with the splendid army he had gathered, in spite of all the senators in Tlascala. Had this attack been made, the Spaniards, weakened by their previous losses, would undoubtedly have been destroyed, and all history would have been changed.
As it was, Cortes detected the spies, cut off their thumbs, and sent them back to their master with the message, that while the Christians never slept, and were ready for him at all times, they were also weary of waiting. Therefore, if he had not tendered his submission inside of twenty-four hours, they would desolate the land of Tlascala with fire and sword, until no living thing remained within its borders.
Thus was Xicoten's proud spirit humbled, and though he preferred to follow, rather than to accompany, Huetzin on his mission, the latter was no longer hindered from carrying it into effect.
While the embassy of Tlascalans, headed by Huetzin, was being received with all honor in the camp of the rejoicing Spaniards, another, consisting of five Aztec nobles, with a retinue of two hundred servants, bearing presents of great value, arrived from the court of Montezuma. They were sent by the trembling monarch to congratulate Cortes on his recent victories over the most redoubtable warriors of the Plateau, and to warn him against entering into an alliance with them. In reality the Aztec king, who had watched the movements of the white conquerors with deepest anxiety, and who had rejoiced when they took the road to Tlascala, still hoped that they might be destroyed by the armies of the mountain republic, and would have used any means to prolong the war just ended. Under pretence of needing time to prepare a suitable answer to his majesty, Cortes detained these ambassadors for several days, that they might witness his reception at the Tlascalan capital.
Preparations were now made for leaving the hill of Zompach, on which the conquerors had passed three memorable weeks, and its fortress-temple, the ruins of which are shown to this day as those of the "Tower of Victory." On the 23d of September, the anniversary of which is still celebrated by Tlascalans as a day of jubilee, the Christian army entered the capital of the brave little republic. The van of the procession consisted of a body of white-robed priests, chanting and scattering clouds of sweet incense from swaying censers. Next came Huetzin, proudly leading an escort of a thousand Tlascalan warriors. These were followed by Cortes and the Aztec envoys. After them marched the battle-worn Spanish troops, with their rumbling artillery and prancing cavalry bringing up the rear.
The eager multitude of spectators who thronged the streets and terraced roofs, and who were kept in check by an efficient body of native police, greeted the conquerors with acclamations, showering upon them garlands and wreaths of the choicest flowers. They even hung these over the necks of the horses, and on the black-muzzled guns. Arches of green branches, entwined with roses, spanned the streets, and the house fronts were gay with fragrant festoons.
A great feast was provided in the palace of Titcala for the entire Spanish army, and at the entrance the aged chieftain waited to welcome them. When Huetzin escorted Cortes to where the veteran stood, the latter passed his hands over the conqueror's face, and, tracing its lines of rugged determination, exclaimed:
"Now, oh, Malinche, do I understand the secret of thy success! Thou hast the will of a god; and when thy face is set, no mortal power may turn it to the right or to the left."
After the banquet the Spaniards were conducted to quarters prepared for them in the court of the temple. The festivities were continued for a week, during which time feasting was alternated with games and exhibitions of every description. The Tlascalans never wearied of witnessing the manœuvres of the Spanish horsemen, nor their displays of skill with the lance. In these, none so astonished the spectators as did Sandoval, with a feat that he performed, not only once, but many times in succession. It was to ride at full speed toward a paper target, and pierce, with the glittering point of his lance, a painted circle, no larger than a man's eye. Only one possessed of the steadiest nerves and keenest eyesight, trained by long practice, could have accomplished this feat. Even with these qualifications, the rider was so dependent on the steadiness of his horse, that on the back of any but his own Motilla, even Sandoval often failed to strike the tiny circle. With Motilla's aid failure seemed impossible, and of the plaudits that the feat drew from admiring throngs, it is doubtful if horse or rider received the most.
Nor was Huetzin at all behind his newly adopted brother in deeds of warlike skill. Standing at thirty paces from the same target used by Sandoval, he would hurl javelin after javelin through the tiny mark, each passing through the opening made by its predecessor without enlarging it. He could also shoot one, two, or even three arrows at a time from his bow, with equal precision, and could split the shaft of one, quivering in a mark, with the keen blade of another. Such feats, though rare, were not unknown to the Tlascalans; but to the Spaniards they seemed little short of supernatural, and, on account of them, Huetzin was treated with a greater respect by the white soldiers than any other native of the land.
During this time the young Toltec was eagerly acquiring two other accomplishments. From Marina he took daily lessons in the Spanish tongue, which she had learned to speak fluently during her six months of intercourse with the conquerors. From Sandoval he received an equal amount of instruction in the use of his highly prized sword. So carefully had he been trained by his warrior father in the handling of all native weapons, that, after a week of practice, he was nearly as dexterous with the Spanish blade as with his accustomed maquahuitl, a weapon that he was now inclined to despise. Something of this kind being intimated one day, within the hearing of Xicoten, that warrior, anxious to humiliate his cousin, whom at the same time he regarded as a rival, and jealous for the reputation of his national weapon, challenged Huetzin to a trial of skill.
Although the latter had not regained his full strength, and had but a few days of sword practice to match against the other's years of familiarity with the maquahuitl, his bold spirit did not permit him to hesitate a moment in accepting the challenge.
Sandoval was greatly troubled when he learned of the rash engagement entered into by his pupil. He expressed himself on the subject in vigorous language, ending with: "That rascally kinsman of thine is jealous of thee, Don Juan, and, if I mistake not, would gladly seize this flimsy pretext for putting thee out of the way. Canst thou not avoid him for the present, or until thou art better fitted to lower his pride?"
This being translated by Marina, who seconded Sandoval's appeal with a look from her own beautiful eyes that would have moved Huetzin from any purpose where his word was not pledged, he answered: "It may not be, my brother. I have promised to try a turn with him, and that promise I would redeem with my life, if necessary. But it will not be, I am convinced. Xicoten meditates no more harm to me than I to him, and the trial will be but a friendly one."
"Let him look to it that it is!" growled Sandoval, "and remember that I am to act as thy second."
The following day was set apart for certain games of wrestling, foot-racing, and other tests of strength or skill, and it was decided that these should end with the trial of weapons between Huetzin and Xicoten. There was an immense concourse of spectators to witness the games, and when at length the two Tlascalan champions stood forth, they were greeted with tumultuous applause. Each was accompanied by a second, pledged to see fair play. That of the war chief was a brother noble of gigantic size, and by Huetzin's side walked Sandoval, with a face as melancholy as though he were attending an execution.
There were no preliminary formalities. The contestants were placed two paces apart, Xicoten, armed with his maquahuitl, a tough oaken staff, some three and a half feet long, set with blades of itztli, and Huetzin with his sword of Toledo steel. Each bore on his left arm a tough leathern shield. Behind Xicoten stood his second, also armed with a maquahuitl, and a little to one side of Huetzin, Sandoval leaned gloomily on his great two-handed sword.
The contest began with a cautious play of fence, in which the adversaries displayed an equal skill, and which the spectators greeted with hearty approval. Soon, however, Xicoten's blows began to fall with a downright earnestness that boded ill for his slighter antagonist, and but for Huetzin's superior agility in springing back, and so evading them, it was evident that he would have come to grief. Several times was his guard beaten down by sheer force. The face of the young Toltec grew pale, his breath came in gasps, and it was apparent to all that his powers of endurance were nearly spent.
Finally blood began to ooze from the recent wound in his head, at sight of which murmurs arose from the spectators, and cries for the contest to end. Sandoval, who stood with half-closed eyes and an air of bored indifference, began to arouse. Huetzin deftly caught a cruel blow from Xicoten's maquahuitl on his shield; but beneath its force his left arm dropped as though numbed.
With blazing eyes Sandoval stepped forward and lifted his sword as a signal for the combat to cease. Disobeying the signal, Xicoten, blinded by a jealous rage, raised his weapon for yet another blow. Ere it could be delivered Sandoval's great sword was whirled about his head like a leaping flame, and in another instant it had shorn through the tough oak of Xicoten's weapon, as though it had been a reed. So complete was the severance that one-half fell to the ground behind the Tlascalan, leaving him to gaze at the other, still remaining in his hand, with such a bewildered air, that the vast audience broke into shouts of merriment. For a moment Sandoval glared about him as though seeking an excuse to repeat his mighty blow. Then, with a glance of contempt at Xicoten, he turned and stalked from the field.
On the next day, in spite of the protests from Montezuma's ambassadors, and the warnings of the Tlascalan counsellors, the white conquerors prepared to resume their march to Tenochtitlan, which they proposed to reach by way of the sacred city of Cholula.
While the Spanish commander had never swerved from his announced determination of penetrating to the very heart of Anahuac, and establishing himself, either by peaceful or warlike means, in its capital city, he was at all times confused by the contradictory advice of the natives as to the route by which he should advance. He had been advised to visit Tlascala, and urged not to do so by those who feared that, after encountering the unconquered armies of the mountain republic, he would be so weakened that the Aztecs would easily destroy him. In this case he had relied solely upon his own judgment, with the results already known. Up to the moment of his triumphal entry into the Tlascalan capital, every embassy from Montezuma, while striving to gain his good-will by lavish and costly gifts, had also endeavored to dissuade him from his purpose of visiting the royal city. The Tlascalans, too, protested against their new allies placing themselves at the mercy of the treacherous Aztec monarch by entering the island city of Tenochtitlan, where they could easily be cut off from all communication with the main land by the simple removal of the bridges on its several causeways. They assured him that the armies of Montezuma covered the continent, so that, in the event of battle, the Aztec king could well afford to allow the Spaniards to exhaust themselves with slaughter, and could then overwhelm them by mere force of numbers.
To this Cortes made the flattering reply, that no one who had been able to withstand the forces of Tlascala, even for a time, need fear all the other armies of the New World.
Finding him thus determined to advance to Tenochtitlan, the Tlascalans still urged him to avoid the perfidious city of Cholula, which, they said, was filled with a crafty priesthood, who would hesitate at no act of treachery for his destruction.
At this juncture two new embassies appeared upon the scene. One came from the Aztec king, bringing an invitation to the white strangers to visit his capital. He urged them not to enter into an alliance with the base and barbarous Tlascalans, whom he proposed shortly to exterminate. He also advised Cortes to travel by the easy and pleasant road leading through the friendly city of Cholula, where he had ordered a fitting reception to be prepared for him. The other embassy was composed of the head men of Cholula itself, and these seconded the king's invitation, at the same time assuring the Spaniards of a cordial welcome to their city.
These embassies had hardly delivered their messages, ere some Tlascalan scouts, returning from the neighborhood of Cholula, reported that a strong Aztec force was marching toward it, and that the inhabitants were actively engaged in strengthening the defences of their city.
Perplexed by the conflicting nature of this advice and these reports, the Spanish leader called a council of his captains; but even they could not agree upon a course of action. Then Sandoval suggested that Huetzin, the young Toltec, be admitted to the council, and that its decision be determined according to his advice. "So far as may be judged," argued the speaker, "he is a Christian like ourselves, but with a better cause than any here to hate the Aztecs, and desire their humiliation. Having lived among them, he must be acquainted with their method of warfare. He has already shown himself a brave youth, possessed of a wisdom uncommon among these barbarians, and has proved his devotion to our interest."
Struck by the force of these words, Cortes agreed to Sandoval's proposition, and sent for the young warrior as well as for Marina, to act as interpreter. Huetzin, greatly wondering for what he might be wanted, promptly obeyed the summons, and listened attentively while the situation was explained to him.
When his turn came to speak, he said to Marina: "Answer my lord Malinche, I pray thee, that my warrior father ever considered an enemy in the rear far more dangerous than one that might be faced. So, in the present case, I would advise that he pass not by Cholula without a visit. To do so would not only place him between two enemies, but would argue a fear of the one left behind. Thus would their confidence in their own strength be increased, and they would be persuaded to a more vigorous enmity."
Which speech being translated by Marina, was received with approval by all the members of the council.
"If I may be permitted to speak further," continued Huetzin, "I would say that if my lord Malinche will permit the Tlascalan warriors, who, under my command, have been chosen to accompany him, to encamp outside the city of Cholula rather than within its walls, I will undertake that no attack nor attempt against his safety shall be made from any quarter, without his previous knowledge."
To this Cortes replied: "Not only do I willingly accede to thy proposal, but such is my confidence in thy prudence and in the fidelity of thy Tlascalan warriors, that I would readily entrust the safety of my army to thy watchfulness. Now, then, gentlemen, having listened to the advice of our well-considered ally of Tlascala, what say you? Shall we visit this city of Cholula on our way to the capital, or shall we pass it by?"
"Let us visit it," was the unanimous answer. And thus it was decided.
During the past week Huetzin's time had not been wholly occupied with the study of Spanish, nor in learning the use of a sword. Upon the earnest representation of Sandoval, Cortes had requested of the Tlascalan senate that the son of Tlahuicol might be appointed to the command of the force they intended to send with him.
They had assigned Xicoten to this expedition, but that general, who regarded the Spaniards with a bitter hatred, claimed that it would be beneath the dignity of the war-chief of the republic to be subject to the orders of a stranger, even the White Conqueror himself, and begged to be relieved of the duty. So the position was left unfilled until Cortes made application for it on behalf of Huetzin. In spite of his youth the young Toltec had been trained for a military life from his childhood by his father, the greatest warrior ever known in Tlascala, and was thus well fitted for the position. Of his bravery there was no question, and, as a son of the house of Titcala, his rank was second to none. Besides all this, the young man possessed an invaluable knowledge of the Aztec capital, gained while a prisoner within its walls. In view of these facts there seemed to be no reason, except his youth and lack of experience as a commander, against Huetzin's appointment, and these were overruled by the request of the all-powerful Spaniard.
Thus, to his amazement and great joy, Huetzin found himself placed in a position, and entrusted with a responsibility, such as most men only gain by long years of diligent and successful service. Not only would it permit him to fight side by side with Sandoval, for whom he had conceived a warm affection, but it clothed him with a power that might be used for the rescue of Tiata, if, indeed, she were still alive. There was also a thought of Marina, but this he strove to banish as being out of keeping with his military duties.
The young chieftain entered his new office with the greatest enthusiasm, and at once set about the selection, from nearly one hundred thousand volunteers, of the six thousand warriors which Cortes desired might accompany the Christian army. He believed that a greater number than this would only embarrass his own movements, while a force of this size might be subjected to a certain amount of drilling that would render them more effective than many times their number of undisciplined troops. In selecting his men Huetzin always chose those who had fought under his father's command, and who, in consequence, embraced the service of Tlahuicol's son with gladness.
As fast as enlisted, these were sent to a camp outside the city, where they were formed into companies of hundreds, each under command of a proved warrior. These companies were assembled into four bodies, or regiments, each containing fifteen hundred warriors, and named after the four great houses or states of the republic. Thus each regiment was entitled to a separate banner, while all were united under that of their young leader. The device chosen by Huetzin as his own was a rock on which stood the white heron of Titcala and a cross typical both of his Toltec origin and his present service. Marina claimed, and was gladly accorded, the privilege of making the first standard of the new alliance. On a blood-red field she embroidered the device in silver thread, and worked at it with such unflagging industry that, greatly to Huetzin's satisfaction, it was finished and ready for display on the morning of the day appointed for departure.
Before daylight on that eventful morning, the young man entered the city and sought his grandfather, that he might receive his blessing before setting forth on this first great undertaking of his life. As the blind chieftain placed his hands on the head of the youth and blessed him, he added:
"My son, wherever thou goest, bear thyself modestly and be not puffed up, though thy station appear exalted among men. Remember always that the greatest is he who commands himself, rather than he who commands others. In time of battle forget not the bravery of thy father, and in the hour of victory recall the tender mercy of thy mother. Now, my son, farewell. Go to thy duty, and may the gods guide thee."
The departure of the army was witnessed by the entire population of the city, and it was accompanied for several miles by thousands who had relatives or friends in its ranks. At length the shining walls of Tlascala disappeared from view, the last of its shouting inhabitants was left behind, and the eventful march, toward the goal from which so many of those now pressing eagerly forward would never return, was begun in earnest. Although the distance from Tlascala to Cholula was but six leagues, so much of the way was over rough ground that it was after noon before the army descended into the great plain of Puebla, and night had fallen ere they camped on the bank of a small stream, within sight of the lofty pyramid and hundreds of smoking temples of the ancient Toltec city.
The next morning the Spaniards, leaving Huetzin and his Tlascalans in camp where they were, marched on amid ever-increasing throngs of eager sightseers, who, filled with an intense curiosity concerning the wonderful strangers, poured from the city gates by thousands. As the conquerors entered the city they, in turn, were filled with admiration at its cleanliness, the width and regularity of its streets, the solidity of its buildings, the number of its temples, the intelligent and civilized aspect of its people, and the richly embroidered mantles of its higher classes. They were also astonished at the surprising number of what they supposed were beggars, but who, as they afterward learned, were, in reality, pilgrims, attracted to this point from every corner of Anahuac by the fame of Quetzal, a god who was enshrined on the great pyramid of Cholula.
As the ancient capital of his father's race, Huetzin regarded the city of Cholula with an intense interest. It was a source of real sorrow to him that it, rather than another, should be selected as the sacred city of the Aztec priests. His eyes blazed with indignation on seeing the flames of Aztec altars rising from the mighty pyramid erected by his Toltec ancestors, a thousand years before, in honor of their bloodless religion.
This most colossal monument of the New World rose to a height of two hundred feet, and its base covered forty-four acres, an area twice as great as that occupied by the Egyptian pyramid of Cheops. It was a venerable pile when the Aztecs took possession of the land and erected on its summit a magnificent temple, which they dedicated to Quetzal. With the advent of their cruel religion began those daily human sacrifices that drenched its altars with blood for two centuries, or until the coming of the white conquerors. Other temples sprang up about that of Quetzal, each demanding human victims, until the number of those annually sacrificed, in Cholula alone, was over six thousand.
No sooner was Huetzin left with his command than he began to put into practice some of the lessons he had learned from his new friends. His first care was to establish a chain of sentinels and advanced pickets about his camp. Then he sent out small scouting parties in various directions to glean all possible information regarding any other troops that might be discovered in that neighborhood. Finally, after darkness had fallen, disguising himself in the coarse and mud-stained garments of a maker of pottery, whom he had caused to be captured for this purpose, he made his own way into the city.
Once among the streets he avoided those places in which the Spaniards were being lavishly entertained by the caciques of Cholula, and threaded the more distant but populous quarters. He was struck with the number of people still at work, in spite of the lateness of the hour. Masons appeared to be repairing house-walls in all directions, and quantities of stone were being carried to the roofs for their use. Laborers were making excavations in the streets, apparently for foundations; woodchoppers were hewing numbers of posts into sharp-pointed stakes. Many old people, women, and children were also to be seen, and all of these appeared to be removing household goods.
At length, in the most remote part to which he penetrated, Huetzin came upon that which caused his blood to boil, and, at the same time, filled him with horror. Several hundred persons were grouped about the entrance to a small temple. They were silent, almost to breathlessness, and were evidently intent upon some scene being enacted within. Every now and then a stifled cry, apparently that of a child, came from the interior of the temple.
Determined to discover what was taking place, Huetzin, by patient and persistent effort, finally forced his way to the very front rank of the spectators, and in another moment was as anxious to make good his retreat from this position as he had been to gain it. For fully a minute he was so tightly wedged in by the eager throng about him that to move was impossible, and he gazed with a horrible fascination at the awful scene disclosed through the open doorway by the flickering light of its lurid altar flames. It was a scene of human sacrifice, though not one of such every-day occurrence that the spectators were wholly hardened to it. It was a sacrifice of children; and, as one pitiful little victim after another was roughly seized by the blood-stained priests and laid beneath the merciless knife, a suppressed shudder passed through the gaping throng. Still no manifestation of disapproval was made, and every eye eagerly followed the motions of an aged priest, whose scanty white locks were blood-reddened like his body, and to whom each little heart was handed still palpitating, as it was torn from a child's breast. He was an augur, and was watched with a breathless interest as he sought for omens from the dread thing held in his hand. As each was tossed aside, evidently unpropitious, a murmur of disappointment arose from the spectators, and more than once Huetzin heard the remark: "The hour is not yet come."
Finally, sick with horror, and raging with a furious anger, the young Toltec could bear it no longer. With a stifled cry he burst through the encircling throng of human wolves, and in spite of angry words and even blows, forced his way into the open space beyond them. When once more free he fled, he knew not whither, filled with a tumult of thought the central idea of which was vengeance. At length he reached his own camp, heart-sick, and exhausted by the strength of his emotions. Here he received the reports of his scouting parties, and learned several things, which, added to his own information, kept him in a state of wakeful anxiety until morning.
At the earliest possible hour he sought an audience with the Spanish leader, to whom he imparted his fears that some deep-laid plot for the destruction of the invaders at this point was in preparation. He told Cortes of the Aztec army discovered by his scouts hidden in a valley but a short distance from the city; of the exodus of those too old or feeble to fight; of the piles of stones secretly accumulated on the house-tops adjoining certain streets; of the pits dug in those same streets and artfully concealed, after being lined with sharp-pointed stakes; of the various chance expressions that he had overheard; and of the awful, but unusual, sacrifice of children of which he had been an unwilling eye-witness. At the same time he expressed it as his belief that the hour had not yet come for springing the trap thus set. It was evident that the portents were not yet favorable, and everything seemed to be awaiting further orders, probably from Montezuma himself. From the nature of the preparations it seemed likely that nothing would be undertaken until the Spaniards were ready to leave the city and continue their march.
Marina, who interpreted this communication, added some suspicions of a similar character, that she had gleaned from certain unguarded utterances of the wife of a Cholulan cacique, with whom she had formed an acquaintance.
Although the conqueror was not one to be easily alarmed, yet he was prudent and ever on the watch for treachery among those surrounding him. So important did he deem the information just given him, that he at once doubled his precautions against a surprise. After thanking the young leader of Tlascalans for his vigilance, he requested him to return to his own camp, continue his work of acquiring a knowledge of what was taking place in and about the city, and to hold his warriors in readiness for instant action.
When Huetzin had departed, Cortes turned his attention to his immediate surroundings. He ordered that no Spaniard should pass beyond the walls of the temple enclosure in which they were quartered. Nor should one lay aside his arms, on any pretext, for a moment. The horses of the cavaliers were kept saddled and bridled, ready for instant service, and the artillery was posted beside the three gateways in the temple walls, in a position to sweep the streets leading to them.
While these preparations were being made, Marina's new acquaintance, the garrulous wife of the cacique, came to pay her a visit. In a short time the Indian girl, pretending to be anxious to escape from the Spaniards, had drawn from her a full account of the conspiracy, which, she said, originated with Montezuma. The Christians, on attempting to leave the city, were to be led into the streets prepared with pitfalls, into which it was expected the cavalry would be precipitated. In the resulting confusion they were to be attacked from the housetops and by the Aztec army that was in waiting, when their easy destruction was deemed a certainty. Even a division of the anticipated captives had already been made, and, while a certain number were to be retained for sacrifice on Cholulan altars, the remainder were to be led in triumph to Tenochtitlan, in the leathern collars, affixed to the ends of stout poles, that were even then prepared for them.
Having agreed to a plan for taking flight to the house of this talkative acquaintance that night, Marina dismissed the woman and hastened to lay the plot before Cortes. The latter, summoning his captains, disclosed it to them and asked their advice as to what course should be pursued. Some of them, in despair at the imminence of the threatened peril, advised an instant return to Tlascala, if not to the coast. Sandoval, Alvarado, and others of stouter hearts, declaring that such a retreat would certainly insure their destruction, advised that in boldly facing the danger, and continuing their onward march at all hazards, lay their only safety. Cortes agreed with this, and added that at no time since they entered the land of Anahuac had the thought of retreat been further from his mind than now.
He then sent for some of the Cholulan caciques and announced his intention of leaving their city early on the following morning. He desired that they should furnish him with a thousand porters for the transport of his artillery and baggage, and should themselves act as his guides to the limits of their domain. These requests they willingly promised to grant, and were dismissed.
That night there was little sleep in the Spanish army, and all held themselves in readiness for an attack. The period of darkness was, however, passed in peace, and through the night no sound broke the stillness of the city, save the hoarse voices of the priests proclaiming the hour from the summit of its lofty teocallis.
Cortes had determined to anticipate the treachery of the Cholulans and the meditated destruction of his army, by a punishment so terrible that its effect should be felt throughout all Anahuac. He intended that a wholesome dread of the white conquerors should be implanted in every Aztec breast. By earliest dawn he was on horseback, perfecting his arrangements for the coming tragedy. The musketeers and cross-bowmen were placed close under the walls of the temple courtyard, and the pikemen were stationed near the three entrances. Here, too, the gunners, under command of Mesa, chief of artillery, renewed their primings and blew their matches into a brighter glow. The cavalry, headed by Cortes in person, was held in reserve to act as emergencies should dictate.
At the same time, silent but active preparations were being made in all parts of the city, though, of course, unseen by the Spaniards, for their destruction. As every Cholulan to whom the secret was known fondly hoped, the hour was at hand in which the boasted prowess of these invaders should come to naught and they should be sacrificed to the wrath of the Aztec gods. Everywhere the exulting natives swarmed to the housetops along the designated line of march, and stationed themselves near the ample stores of missiles already gathered; or they collected in armed bodies, whispering, but jubilant over the perfection of their plans, in the side streets, from which they were to leap, like mountain lions, on their helpless prey. The Aztec army, secretly prepared for this emergency, entered the city, and so swelled the number of assailants that no Cholulan doubted for a moment as to which side should be granted the victory in the coming conflict. So, impatiently and joyously, they awaited the signal with which their triumph would begin.
Outside the city Huetzin's grim Tlascalans, each with a fillet of grass bound about his head to distinguish him from an Aztec or a Cholulan, awaited the signal that should send them into action with an equal impatience. They too were without a doubt as to the result of the battle. Had they not fought against the white conquerors? and did they not know, from bitter experience, the extent of their terrible powers? What would avail the puny efforts of the pottery-making Cholulans against beings before whom even the mountain warriors of Tlascala could not stand? That they should dare, for a moment, to oppose the white conquerors, to say nothing of themselves, was a subject for scornful mirth in the Tlascalan camp. As for Huetzin, he was filled with the nervous anxiety of a young commander about to engage in his first battle. Of this, however, he effectually concealed all traces in the presence of his warriors, to whom he presented a calm and cheerful countenance. His friend and brother, Sandoval, had urged him to don a cap of steel, such as were worn by the conquerors themselves; but this, Huetzin had firmly declined, saying that he would wear no armor that could not be equally shared by his warriors. Now, therefore, he was clad as they were, in a doublet of quilted cotton, and wore on his head a simple fillet of grass. Above it waved the graceful plume of a white heron, which, with his Spanish sword, formed the distinguishing badges of his rank.
The sun had hardly risen before the Cholulan Caciques, who were to guide the Spanish army through the city streets, presented themselves at the temple and were admitted. They were followed by a thousand or more of tamanes, who, as the quick eye of Cortes instantly detected, were all armed with weapons, of one kind or another, thrust into their girdles. These were halted in the centre of the court, while the Caciques advanced, with smiling faces and complimentary words, to where the Spanish commander sat on his gray steed. Their smiles were quickly exchanged for expressions of consternation; for, with scornful words, Cortes began to charge them with their treachery, and showed himself to be acquainted with all the details of their conspiracy. He recalled the apparent friendliness with which they and their king had invited him to Cholula, and the mask of hospitality with which they had covered their base designs. Now he demanded to know what they had to say for themselves, and whether any form of punishment could be too severe for such perfidy.
The trembling Caciques were overwhelmed by these terrible words, and a memory of the supernatural powers credited to these mysterious strangers, who seemed able to read their most hidden thoughts, came back to them. They dared not deny the accusation just made, and so made a full confession of the conspiracy, only striving to lay the entire blame upon Montezuma, by whose orders they claimed to have acted, and whom they dared not disobey.
Merely regarding this as a further evidence of Cholulan cowardice, and declaring that he was now about to make such an example of them as should cause their false-hearted king to tremble on his throne, Cortes raised his hand. At the signal every Spanish musket and cross-bow was levelled, and so deadly a volley of bullets and bolts was poured into the dense body of natives, huddled together like sheep in the middle of the court, that they fell by scores. Then the soldiers leaped forward to complete their work with sword and pike.
In another moment the combined throngs of Cholulans and Aztecs, gathered outside the walls, hearing the sounds of strife, advanced, with exulting cries, to an attack upon the Spaniards. As they rushed forward there came a burst of flame full in their faces, and, with a thunderous roar, increased tenfold by reverberations from enclosing buildings, Mesa's guns hurled forth their deadly tempest. Ere the bewildered natives could comprehend the nature of what had happened, the cavalry was upon them with sword, lance, and trampling, iron-shod hoofs. By the onrush of succeeding hosts these were driven back; but again Mesa's reloaded guns swept the narrow streets. Again and again were these tactics repeated with frightful losses to the natives and almost none to their adversaries.
In the mean time, Huetzin's warriors, dashing forward like tigers at sound of the first volley, fell on the rear of the swarming Aztecs with such fury that none could withstand them. Dismayed and panic-stricken the townsmen gave way and took refuge in their houses. Even here the fierce Tlascalans pursued them, and setting fire to such structures as were of wood, soon caused whole blocks of buildings to be enveloped in flames.
Ever in the front, using his keen Toledo blade with deadly effect, Huetzin cheered on his followers. Suddenly he detected a body of skulking priests who had come from all the temples of the city to share in the anticipated victory of their benighted adherents. Now they were seeking safety in flight. Like a flash of light came a vision of innocent children torn to death by these human wolves, and, with an inarticulate cry of rage, the young Toltec darted after them. A number of his warriors sprang to his side, and, as the priests dashed up the long flight of steps leading to the summit of the great pyramid, the Tlascalans were close on their heels. Hardly had the panting fugitives gained the upper platform, ere others, who had already sought this place of refuge, rolled great stones down on the heads of their pursuers.
Many a mountain warrior was swept, lifeless, to the bottom of the vast pile before the survivors obtained a foothold on its summit; but, once there, these took ample revenge for the death of their comrades. The cowardly priests, who had heretofore urged others to fight, but who had themselves wielded no weapon save the bloody knife of sacrifice, now fought for their lives, but with no more effect against Huetzin and his fierce Tlascalans, than if they had been so many carrion crows. The face of the murdered Tlahuicol rose before his son's vision, and the despairing cries of thousands of priestly victims rang in the ears of the young Toltec as he closed with the mob of blood-stained wretches who sought in vain the protection of their gods. With no thought save of vengeance, he leaped among them, his sword drinking life blood with every stroke. Animated by his example, his followers dealt death-blows on all sides with a fury only excelled by his own.
From the top of the wooden temple in which the image of the god was enshrined, the Cholulans poured down javelins, stones, and burning arrows. Snatching a blazing brand from an altar, Huetzin set fire to the building, and, with the aid of some Spaniards, who now appeared on the scene, he dragged the great idol from its pedestal, and hurled it, crashing, down a side of the lofty pyramid, at the base of which it was shattered into a hundred fragments.
Priest after priest shared the fate of the god, by leaping from the blazing turrets of the temple, or flung over the parapet by the Tlascalans. Finally Huetzin, with the fury of battle in his face and the blazing eyes of a young war god, looked about him in vain for another victim. None was left, and, for the first time in two centuries the great temple of his Toltec ancestors was freed from its defilement of blood-thirsty Aztec gods and their vile priests.
As he realized this, a solemn joy took possession of the young warrior, and, though he was bleeding from many wounds he felt them not. He seemed to hear the myriad voices of his forefathers united in praise and blessing, and for a moment he stood in rapt unconsciousness of his surroundings. Then, lifting his eyes to the glowing noonday sky, he reverently and slowly traced the sacred symbol of the God of the Four Winds.
At this moment he was recalled to earthly things by a mighty hand-grasp, and the hearty tones of Sandoval's voice, saying, "Thou hast done nobly, my warrior brother! I came in time to witness the conclusion of thy fighting, and never saw I a more finished bit of work. Thou hast indeed smitten the idolater in his stronghold, and here, on the site of yonder smoking temple, shall thou and I erect a goodly cross, the holy symbol of thy religion and of mine."