to continue serving them.”
“That makes sense.”
“The nobility throughout our domain brings its future rulers, judges, administrators, and priests to this school. What is essential is that we assure these students leave here with a proper regard for our gods. By doing so, we provide for them, as well as ourselves.”
With that, they parted. The taller priest, attired in the black robe denoting his order, proceeded to his study and sat down to reflect over the many reports he had received on his expected visitor.
His was an impressive record. In all the courses taught at the school, Motecuhzoma excelled. These included the details and functions of government, administration, justice, history, the interpretation of glyphs, astronomy, architecture and engineering, agriculture, genealogies, hunting, and the skills of warfare. His devotion to the religious studies entailing both instruction and temple service, an apprenticeship to priesthood, was flawless. He had mastered reading the calendar, determining and fixing the time of feasts, and performing the required rituals and incantations. He was taught how to interpret dreams, astrology, verses of divine songs, and the counting of the years. His ratings were of the highest category; never had there been a more exemplary record on anyone who resided here.
His full name was Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin. He was the son of Axayacatl and great grandson of the revered Motecuhzoma Ilhuicamina, a prince of the Royal House of Tenochtitlan. There was little doubt that this student was destined to take his place among the ruling elites. No person of such lineage and such extraordinary achievement could fail to leave his stamp among the chroniclers of Anahuac. The priest knew he must exercise prudence with this progeny, one who could be an ally of significant importance in years to come.
A rapping on the door announced to the priest that his guest had arrived and awaited permission to enter. This the priest immediately granted and he watched while the tall, lanky youngster briskly walked to the center of the room and stopped when squarely ahead of him. He studied his subject at length, as if groping for a sign of flaw in this seemingly paragon of Mexica manhood, and then began.
“You are Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin?”
“I am,” came his confident reply.
“Do you know why I have summoned you?”
“I have heard I’m wanted back at the court in Tenochtitlan.”
“To come directly to the point, the Revered Speaker, Lord Tizoc, has requested that you terminate your training here so you can assume full-time duties among the ministers, priests, and commanders as an understudy in their professions. Evidently he is of the opinion your presence is now desireable or required—for what reasons I was not told.”
The priest paused to scan the young man’s face but detected no particular emotion in it. “You are not disappointed then,” he surmised.
“I feel I have mastered my lessons and prefer being introduced to new challenges.”
“You record certainly attests to that.” At this juncture, the priest thought it appropriate to probe his student to the extend of his reverence, not only to determine whether the training had been effective, but also to satisfy in his mind that Motecuhzoma was aptly indoctrinated and would face the world with his convictions properly implanted. “In summarizing your education here, what is your conclusion about our service to the gods? Are you assured that we accede to their wishes in order to secure their blessings?”
“We amply serve them in our rituals. I see no reason for thinking otherwise.”
“So you see the gods as the manipulators of our fortunes and arbiters of all that we do.”
“Of course. We risk invoking their wrath through remissions in our obligations to them.”
“It is often done, with the gravest consequences afflicted upon us. The chroniclers mention it repeatedly—sickness, fires, the floods, and the deep snows, drought and famine—disasters which have brought great misery and suffering. Warnings from the gods resulting from man’s failure to show them obeisance! Take care in your dealings with them, Motecuhzoma. As our providers, they must be nourished and sustained. We live in the fifth cycle. Four previous suns have existed flowering an age for man, and each of them has been destroyed, and so will this one be destroyed if the gods, who preserve it for us, are weakened. The eternal night demons constantly strive to make their claim upon this world. Only by the strength of divine Huitzilopochtli embattling them is the path cleared for the glorious Sun, Tonatiuh, so that life can flourish. It is blood—our blood—that sustains them, and this same substance which assures them life also gives us life. Explain to me why this is so.”
“The gods created us from the bones of previous men mixed with their blood, which is the seed developing our being. Since from their blood they created us, it is fitting that we in turn from our blood nourish them. We are the harvest from the seed they have sown and are therefore sustenance for them. Our sacrifice assures us their dominion so that all can continue to exist.”
“You must appreciate it as mutually beneficial, with one surviving to support the other and thus insuring its own existence. Were one element to fail in doing its part, it would cause the others to fail. Our universe would fall into eternal darkness and life would cease. Each deity has a distinctive function to perform in maintaining this cycle and none can be ignored. This does not deter us from having our favorites—many are revered for the services they perform—as long as they collectively have institutions to honor them. The magicians and sorcerers honor Tezcatlipoca because he alone sees all that takes place in the world, and it is through patronizing him that he reveals what he sees to them. As for myself, I feel most indebted to Huitzilopochtli. An excellent choice for our patron god—wouldn’t you agree?”
“Surely I cannot diminish his importance to us, but where I to name my own favorite, I should choose Quetzalcoatl.”
A puzzled look came over the priest. “Why Quetzalcoatl?” he said.
“He is closest to me. It is he who searched the underworld for the bones so we could be recreated with his own blood. He gave us corn and taught us how to cultivate it. He taught us to use a calendar and the sacred rituals, and who gave us knowledge of the arts and showed us how to build. He endowed us with the wisdom by which we can honor the other gods.”
The priest, not pleased over having his own choice relegated to second place by a mere youth, felt compelled to sway Motecuhzoma from his preference. “But Huitzilopochtli assures us the daily sun,” he said. “Is this not greater than what Quetzalcoatl has done?”
“I seek not to minimize this, but if he must receive his nourishment and strength from our blood, than we are as important to him as he is to us. He is then also indebted to Quetzelcoatl.”
The priest was amazed. There is a formidable power in the intellect.
“I see. You make a strong case for your choice, but remember, having already arranged for our creation and tought us how to grow our food and given us our knowledge, he is not tasked with the awesome duties that Huitzilopochtli must do for us. For this reason he does not require the number of sacrifices that we must give to Huitzilopochtli.”
“Quetzalcoatl has said that he did not wish to have any sacrifices at all, yet he is a god and must therefore be so served.”
“That’s why you favor him?”
“No. Quetzalcoatl alone among the gods has promised to return to us—to teach us how to create a paradise
