“If it’s for their own preservation, I don’t see how.”
“You lighten my burdens, Lord. Acknowledging that Tizoc’s reign jeopardizes the realm, I should think there’s no longer a question on what needs to be done, is there?”
“No,” agreed Ahuitzotl. “Tizoc must be replaced.”
“Tell me how; I will employ the method. I have no more reservations about its necessity.”
Ahuitzotl recognized the trap and was not about to advocate treason. “How can I tell you? You’re the one who selected him. Why can’t the same interclan council which made him ruler take the throne away from him?”
“Its decision is irreversible. The permanence of the monarch is decreed by both custom and religion. It cannot be otherwise if he is Huitzilopochtli’s personal representative to the nation. The people’s faith in the gods, the very foundation of our society, would suffer irreparable damage if we were to suddenly proclaim it is not so.”
“It appears you have a problem.”
“We have a problem,” Cihuacoatl baited Ahuitzotl, “unless, in your complacency, you are resigned to expending your remaining days under Tizoc’s ineffective rule.”
“I have no choice, as you told me.”
Cihuacoatl realized he would not succeed in getting Ahuitzotl to openly declare any kind of sedition against his brother. Perhaps he remembered too well the minister’s earlier admonishment or, more likely, simply did not trust him. But whatever his reasons, Cihuacoatl concluded that the time was not yet ripe for urging such action. He would try again later, but not without first offering more enticement. “That is regrettable,” he said, “especially when the general consensus is that you would manage the realm significantly better than the man who presently presides over it.”
Ahuitzotl proceeded cautiously, averse in confiding more and choosing his words carefully, wary of their provocative potential. “I have no way of knowing I would take Tizoc’s place,” he said.
“It can be arranged. As the council’s ranking speaker, my declarations carry weight.”
“In that case, I’m sure you can apply your talents and station in finding a way to replace him,” Ahuitzotl answered, still refusing to be cornered.
“I’ll work on it,” Cihuacoatl remarked as he prepared to make his leave. He was satisfied that he had implanted the seed which would spawn the serpent, and it was only a matter of waiting for events to unfold and bring it to life. Tizoc himself would see to that, for Ahuitzotl’s tolerance had its limits.
“We shall speak more on this some other time,” Cihuacoatl said as he departed.
Ahuitzotl stood at the entrance of his command post to watch the minister ambling away. Beyond him, he saw the third tier of the Great Temple embraced in its scaffolding and rising preponderantly above the adjacent structures. Once again he suppressed a bitterness he felt surging within him.
IX
Pelaxilla sat on a stone slab serving as a bench in the garden behind the royal palace and anxiously awaited her lover’s arrival. Normally she would have found serenity from the tenseness which clouded her recent days amidst the lofty contorted cypresses, the myriad of green shades in the shrubbery, and the brilliant hues of a thousand blooming flowers. But today she could not relax, and while she usually eagerly longed for these meetings with Ahuitzotl, there was now considerable stress in her. Calm yourself, she told her beating heart, or he will detect something is wrong. She repeatedly tried to focus her thoughts on the beauty surrounding her, but always she came back to how she was going to conduct an interrogation without arousing his suspicion. The empress said it did not have to be consummated at one time, so maybe she ought to forget about it altogether this day and just enjoy herself with him. That’s what she should do, Pelaxilla convinced herself; she should abandon her scheme and simply have a good time.
Her cerebration was useless. She could not be distracted from the purpose Tlalalca had instilled in her and, continuing to feel uncomfortable over it, she decided it would be best for her not to see Ahuitzotl today. She was set on leaving just when he came into view. When she saw his gleaming white teeth behind a broad smile and lighted face, all her apprehensions vanished and the elation she always felt at seeing him repossessed her. She rushed into his welcoming arms and they clasped each other in joyful embrace in their reunion.
“Ah, Pelaxilla,” Ahuitzotl sighed blissfully, “Your presence—how I cherish it.”
Pelaxilla gave no reply, but her cheerful glee and the manner in which she held firmly on to him defined her contentment. They remained locked in their enrapture while relishing the closeness of their bodies and the pleasure of their embrace. Then, after what seemed an all too short time, Ahuitzotl loosened his grasp and released himself from her.
“It’s pitiful—surreptitiously meeting like this,” he said. “The entire court knows how we feel about each other.”
“I want nothing more than to share my time with you,” Pelaxilla said, “but what can we do when I am pledged to Lord Tizoc?”
“I can ask him to release you from that pledge.”
Pelaxilla could scarcely contain her excitement, “Would he acquiesce to that?”
“If he loves Tlalalca so much, he should understand. Has he any special regard for you?”
“Not that I can tell. He does not make use of his mistresses as you would expect. Many of them complain over how he ignores them. He’s always with Lady Tlalalca.”
“That helps. For such a person, one less mistress should be of no consequence.”
“When will you ask him?” Pelaxilla asked eagerly.
“After the Tolucan affair is ended—in about five weeks.”
“That long?” Pelaxilla was clearly disappointed, thinking Ahuitzotl spoke of a nearer date.
“Be patient. The timing presently is inappropriate. It won’t take long to crush this revolt, and when he is rejoicing in our victory, that’s when I’ll ask him. Better to wait than proceed now and have all our hopes dashed because we caught him in poor temperment.”
“Sadly I must agree,” sighed Pelaxilla as she slipped back into his clutches. “He hasn’t been in a good mood lately, owing to Toluca I think, and has shunned all contact with us.”
“The time will pass quickly enough,” he assured her.
They sauntered slowly along the garden’s pathway, happy in each other’s arms and enjoying the tranquility and pleasure which comes when love’s glow immerses the heart and spirit. Their situation was delicate. Ahuitzotl had his share of mistresses, as a noble of his station was expected to, although he never mentioned these. As far as Pelaxilla knew, he was not emotionally involved with any other woman except herself. He had been married for four years but had preemptorily divorced his wife when she failed to produce an heir, as the law allowed in such cases, and made no further attempt to secure another one. For a man of his age—a year under thirty—to be unwed was extremely rare and generally frowned upon by the nobility, but this seldom troubled Ahuitzotl who was typically not constrained by the dictates of convention. Most men needed to be married out of
