own decisions. His leadership is, to put it bluntly, uninspiring.”
“You do quite well when barred from restrictions, Tlohtzin. The priest’s vision was clearly of a military nature, so we can assume what he perceived in Tizoc involved a connection with the army—perhaps his personal command of it.”
“Lord Tizoc did not say he would lead it. He has you for that.”
“True, but for a nearby operation as Toluca, I suspect that he will. The priest said he did not know if the eagle’s turnabout and ensuing flight was intentional. Indeed, I now believe it was not.”
“I suspect what you are thinking, Lord, but I dare not say it.”
“I shall say it for you. The priest deceived us. The eagle does not represent the Mexica, but rather Tizoc himself. He will attack Zozoltin and then flee from the battlefield, or be forced to retreat—our remaining units will defeat the Tolucans for him. That’s what the priest saw!”
Tlohtzin was alarmed, not so much over this interpretation of the vision as by Ahuitzotl’s audacity in relating it.
“You dare to say this about the Revered Speaker?”
“It fits together. What else could shock the priest so?”
“You cannot presume this, Lord Ahuitzotl. It’s treasonous to even think this of the Revered Speaker, much less speak of it.”
Ahuitzotl paid no attention to Tlohtzin; his smirk indicated that he was gloating over what he saw as a brilliant feat of mental cognition. By this time they had reached the headquarters and no reply awaited Tlohtzin as they parted for their own duty chambers. Ahuitzotl was still grinning when he entered and was met by his drillmaster.
“We have a new man assigned to us, Lord. I think you should see him.”
“It’s not my habit to see newcomers.”
“This man is special, Lord. He comes to us from the royal palace, with instructions from the Revered Speaker himself.”
“From the palace? What’s his name?”
“Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin, Lord. A royal prince.”
Ahuitzotl paused, straining to associate the name with whatever feeble recollection he retained of him. “Ah, yes,” he said, “the son of my brother, Axayacatl. I remember him as a bright-eyed lad, curious about many things and asking frequent questions. He seemed the studious sort to me—very serious—but that was long ago. You say there are instructions?”
“Delivered by the court’s official courier, Lord. The Revered Speaker informs us that Motecuhzoma is to be prepared for top-level commands in the shortest possible time allowing for his mastery of the tasks given him. He is to begin at the squadron chief level, a lower position not deemed suitable to his talents. Despite his ancestry, he should be granted no special favors and is to perform his duties, and be rated in these, as anyone else appointed or promoted to such posts. He expects you to give this your personal attention and to insure Motecuhzoma’s advancement based on your assessment of his capabilities.”
“What regard for this Motecuhzoma!” Ahuitzotl exclaimed. “A squadron chief commands two hundred, sometimes more, men—no easy assignment for a neophyte, and not necessarily fair to the warriors under him. But Lord Tizoc has spoken, and our duty is to comply. Send him in.”
Accordingly, the drillmaster brought in the youngster and left him standing alone in front of his commander.
What Ahuitzotl noticed first was his thin features. He was tall and lean, taller than himself by at least half a head. His face was more elongated than was typical of the family members comprising the lordship over the Mexica-Tenocha, and he wore his hair short, covering only part of his ears. He did not bear much resemblance to his illustrious father, Ahuitzotl thought, and looked considerably different from the boy he remembered, but his eyes were very expressive and at the moment reflected a calm demeanor. An authoritative countenance embodied his presence: this would assist him in his first command.
“So you left us as a boy and have returned a man,” Ahuitzotl finally spoke. “You were at the school in Calixtlahuaca?”
“For the last seven years, Lord.” Motecuhzoma answered, reflecting his inner confidence.
“The school of the nobility. Your father gave it that distinction. Did you know that?”
“I have heard it mentioned, Lord.”
“Before his time, nobles sent their sons to the local schools in each city. Things were more informal then—we did not have the separation between those who ruled and those who obeyed as we have now. It seems the creation of an empire state has also led to a permanent ruling class which no longer thinks it proper or dignified to associate with the commoners, whom many lords now even hold in contempt.”
“You sound as though you regretted it,” Motecuhzoma could not resist saying.
“When we are in official contact, as presently, Motecuhzoma, you will not speak unless directed to do so. I was merely thinking aloud—not seeking a response. I would not say I regret the order we have carved out for ourselves. No, that would be rash; after all, I have benefited from it as much as anyone—as you have. Still, there are limitations to it. We have much talent out there among the ranks, and to preclude it from being exercised by denying it access to upper administrative, political, and military positions on the basis of class distinction may be, I think, self-defeating for us. What’s your opinion on this?”
“To regulate our realm requires unquestioned loyalty from these posts,” Motecuhzoma replied, happy that he was afforded a chance to state his view. “I question whether such allegiance would be forthcoming if filling them were not based on elite clan lines and family ties.”
“You don’t think this loyalty can come from men who fill such posts based on merit?”
“No,” Motecuhzoma hesitated as if wrestling with his intellect. “Merit can be bound by various judgments. Were these assignments filled by men who held themselves deserving of them and competed for them, many would not tolerate the performance of those deemed of lesser capability and could make their duties difficult for them. Their loyalty would be to themselves, not the Revered Speaker. We would face endless squabbles—so I believe.”
“What you say is that it’s better to sacrifice expediency and possible greater efficiency for the sake of stability. Perceptive of you, especially when you consider the current Tolucan rebellion. No matter, I’ve gotten off my intent in seeing you. The Revered Speaker has great expectations from you. I am directed to assign you to a squadron command. I confess I had reservations about this, but now agree this is the proper charge for you. How do you feel about leading a unit of that size?”
“I see it as a challenge, Lord,” replied Motecuhzoma eagerly.
“You will find things considerably different here than in school, Motecuhzoma. Once in command, you are expected to know what to do, not to learn. You have a strong presence about you—make use of this by approaching your work with confidence. Be forceful and direct when issuing orders to your warriors. They are inclined to naturally follow the leader they believe knows what he is doing—especially in battle. You come to us at an opportune time and may find yourself leading your unit into combat in but forty days. We will be engaging the Tolucans—worthy of the challenge you seek. Does that prospect alarm you?”
