CHAPTER XI.
THE COMBAT.
The champions for the god drew themselves up in the west, while theirchallengers occupied the east of the arena. This position of parties wasthe subject of much speculation with the spectators, who saw it mightprove a point of great importance if the engagement assumed the form ofsingle combats.
Considering age and appearance, the Tlascalans were adjudged mostdangerous of the challengers,--a palm readily awarded to the Tezcucanand the 'tzin on their side. The common opinion held also, that theCholulan, the youngest and least experienced of the Aztecs, should havebeen the antagonist of the elder Othmi, whose vigor was presumed to beaffected by his age; as it was, that combat belonged to Tlahua, theOtompan, while the younger Othmi confronted the Cholulan.
And now the theatre grew profoundly still with expectancy.
"The day grows old. Let the signal be given." And so saying, the kingwaved his hand, and sunk indolently back upon his couch.
A moment after there was a burst of martial symphony, and the combatbegan.
It was opened with arrows; and to determine, if possible, thecomparative skill of the combatants, the spectators watched thecommencement with closest attention. The younger Othmi sent his missilestraight into the shield of the Cholulan, who, from precipitationprobably, was not so successful. The elder Othmi and his antagonist eachplanted his arrow fairly, as did Iztlil' and the Tlascalans. But agreat outcry of applause attended Guatamozin, when his bolt, flyingacross the space, buried its barb in the crest of his adversary. A scoreof feathers, shorn away, floated slowly to the sand.
"It was well done; by Our Mother, it was well done!" murmured Hualpa.
"Wait!" said the Chalcan patronizingly. "Wait till they come to the_maquahuitl_!"
Quite a number of arrows were thus interchanged by the parties withouteffect, as they were always dexterously intercepted. The passage was butthe preluding skirmish, participated in by all but the 'tzin, who, afterhis first shot, stood a little apart from his comrades, and, resting hislong bow on the ground, watched the trial with apparent indifference.Like the Chalcan, he seemed to regard it as play; and the populace aftera while fell into the same opinion: there was not enough danger to fullyinterest them. So there began to arise murmurs and cries, which theCholulan was the first to observe and interpret. Under an impulse whichhad relation, probably, to his first failure, he resolved to availhimself of the growing feeling. Throwing down his bow, he seized the_maquahuitl_ at his back, and, without a word to his friends, startedimpetuously across the arena. The peril was great, for every foeman atonce turned his arrow against him.
Then the 'tzin stirred himself. "The boy is mad, and will die if we donot go with him," he said; and already his foot was advanced to follow,when the young Othmi sprang forward from the other side to meet theCholulan.
The eagerness lest an incident should be lost became intense; even theking sat up to see the duel. The theatre rang with cries ofencouragement,--none, however, so cheery as that of the elder Othmi,whose feelings of paternity were, for the moment, lost in his passion ofwarrior.
"On, boy! Remember the green hills, and the hammock by the stream.Strike hard, strike hard!"
The combatants were apparently well matched, being about equal in heightand age; both brandished the _maquahuitl_, the deadliest weapon known totheir wars. Wielded by both hands and swung high above the head, itsblades of glass generally clove their way to the life. About midway thearena the foemen met. At the instant of contact the Cholulan brought adownward blow, well aimed, at the head of his antagonist; but the litheOthmi, though at full speed, swerved like a bird on the wing. A greatshout attested the appreciation of the audience. The Cholulan wheeled,with his weapon uplifted for another blow; the action called his leftarm into play, and drew his shield from its guard. The Othmi saw theadvantage. One step he took nearer, and then, with a sweep of his armand an upward stroke, he drove every blade deep into the side of hisenemy. The lifted weapon dropped in its half-finished circle, the shieldflew wildly up, and, with a groan, the victim fell heavily to the sand,struggled once to rise, fell back again, and his battles were endedforever. A cry of anguish went out from under the royal canopy.
"Hark!" cried Xoli. "Did you hear the old Cholulan? See! They areleading him from the platform!"
Except that cry, however, not a voice was heard; from risingapprehension as to the result of the combat, or touched by a passingsympathy for the early death, the multitude was perfectly hushed.
"That was a brave blow, Xoli; but let him beware now!" said Hualpa,excitedly.
And in expectation of instant vengeance, all eyes watched the Othmi.Around the arena he glanced, then back to his friends. Retreat wouldforfeit the honor gained: death was preferable. So he knelt upon thebreast of his enemy, and, setting his shield before him, waited sternlyand in silence the result. And Iztlil' and Tlahua launched their arrowsat him in quick succession, but Guatamozin was as indifferent as ever.
"What ails the 'tzin?" said Maxtla to the king. "The Othmi is at hismercy."
The monarch deigned no reply.
The spirit of the old Othmi rose. On the sand behind him, prepared forservice, was a dart with three points of copper, and a long cord bywhich to recover it when once thrown. Catching the weapon up, andshouting, "I am coming, I am coming!" he ran to avert or share thedanger. The space to be crossed was inconsiderable, yet such hisanimation that, as he ran, he poised the dart, and exposed his handabove the shield. The 'tzin raised his bow, and let the arrow fly. Itstruck right amongst the supple joints of the veteran's wrist. Theunhappy man stopped bewildered; over the theatre he looked, then at thewound; in despair he tore the shaft out with his teeth, and rushed ontill he reached the boy.
The outburst of acclamation shook the theatre.
"To have seen such archery, Xoli, were worth all the years of a hunter'slife!" said Hualpa.
The Chalcan smiled like a connoisseur, and replied, "It is nothing.Wait!"
And now the combat again presented a show of equality. The advantage, ifthere was any, was thought to be with the Aztecs, since the loss of theCholulan was not to be weighed against the disability of the Othmi. Thusthe populace were released from apprehension, without any abatement ofinterest; indeed, the excitement increased, for there was a promise ofchange in the character of the contest; from quiet archery was growingbloody action.
The Tlascalans, alive to the necessity of supporting their friends,advanced to where the Cholulan lay, but more cautiously. When they werecome up, the Othmies both arose, and calmly perfected the front. Theastonishment at this was very great.
"Brave fellow! He is worth ten live Cholulans!" said Xoli. "But nowlook, boy! The challengers have advanced half-way; the Aztecs must meetthem."
The conjecture was speedily verified. Iztlil' had, in fact, ill brookedthe superior skill, or better fortune, of the 'tzin; the applause of thepopulace had been worse than wounds to his jealous heart. Till thistime, however, he had restrained his passion; now the foe were ranged asif challenging attack: he threw away his useless bow, and laid his handon his _maquahuitl_.
"It is not for an Aztec god that we are fighting, O comrade!" he criedto Tlahua. "It is for ourselves. Come, let us show yon king a betterwar!"
And without waiting, he set on. The Otompan followed, leaving the 'tzinalone. The call had not been to him, and as he was fighting for the god,and the Tezcucan for himself, he merely placed another arrow on his bow,and observed the attack.
Leaving the Otompan to engage the Othmies, the fierce Tezcucan assaultedthe Tlascalans, an encounter in which there was no equality; but theeyes of Tenochtitlan were upon him, and at his back was a hated rival.His antagonists each sent an arrow to meet him; but, as he skilfullycaught them on his shield, they, too, betook themselves to the_maquahuitl_. Right on he kept, until his shield struck theirs; it wasgallantly done, and won a furious outburst from the people. AgainMontezuma sat up, momentarily a
nimated.
"Ah, my lord Cacama!" he said, "if your brother's love were but equal tohis courage, I would give him an army."
"All the gods forfend!" replied the jealous prince. "The viper wouldrecover his fangs."
The speed with which he went was all that saved Iztlil' from the bladesof the Tlascalans. Striking no blow himself, he strove to make waybetween them, and get behind, so that, facing about to repel hisreturning onset, their backs would be to the 'tzin. But they were wary,and did not yield. As they pushed against him, one, dropping his morecumbrous weapon, struck him in the breast with a copper knife. The blowwas distinctly seen by the spectators.
Hualpa started from his seat. "He has it; they will finish him now! No,he recovers. Our Mother, what a blow!"
The Tezcucan disengaged himself, and, maddened by the blood that beganto flow down his quilted armor, assaulted furiously. He was strong,quick of eye, and skilful; the blades of his weapon gleamed in circlesaround his head, and resounded against the shields. At length adesperate blow beat down the guard of one of the Tlascalans; ere itcould be recovered, or Iztlil' avail himself of the advantage, therecame a sharp whirring through the air, and an arrow from the 'tzinpierced to the warrior's heart. Up he leaped, dead before he touched thesand. Again Iztlil' heard the acclamation of his rival. Without a pause,he rushed upon the surviving Tlascalan, as if to bear him down by stormydint.
Meantime, the combat of Tlahua, the Otompan, was not without itsdifficulties, since it was not singly with the young Othmi.
"Mictlan take the old man!" cried the lord Cuitlahua, bending from hisseat. "I thought him done for; but, see! he defends, the other fights."
And so it was. The Otompan struck hard, but was distracted by thetactics of his foemen: if he aimed at the younger, both their shieldswarded the blow; if he assaulted the elder, he was in turn attacked bythe younger; and so, without advantage to either, their strife continueduntil the fall of the Tlascalan. Then, inspired by despairing valor, theboy threw down his _maquahuitl_, and endeavored to push aside theOtompan's shield. Once within its guard, the knife would finish thecontest. Tlahua retreated; but the foe clung to him,--one wrenching athis shield, the other intercepting his blows, and both carefullyavoiding the deadly archery of the 'tzin, who, seeing the extremity ofthe danger, started to the rescue. All the people shouted, "The 'tzin,the 'tzin!" Xoli burst into ecstasy, and clapped his hands. "There hegoes! Now look for something!"
The rescuer went as a swift wind; but the clamor had been as a warningto the young Othmi. By a great effort he tore away the Otompan's shield.In vain the latter struggled. There was a flash, sharp, vivid, like thesparkle of the sun upon restless waters. Then his head drooped forward,and he staggered blindly. Once only the death-stroke was repeated; andso still was the multitude that the dull sound of the knife driving homewas heard. The 'tzin was too late.
The prospect for the Aztecs was now gloomy. The Cholulan and Otompanwere dead; the Tezcucan, wounded and bleeding, was engaged in a doubtfulstruggle with the Tlascalan; the 'tzin was the last hope of his party.Upon him devolved the fight with the Othmies. In the interest thusexcited Iztlil's battle was forgotten.
Twice had the younger Othmi been victor, and still he was scathless.Instead of the _maquahuitl_, he was now armed with the javelin, which,while effective as a dart, was excellent to repel assault.
From the crowded seats of the theatre not a sound was heard. At no timehad the excitement risen to such a pitch. Breathless and motionless,the spectators awaited the advance of the 'tzin. He was, as I have said,a general favorite, beloved by priest and citizen, and with the wildsoldiery an object of rude idolatry. And if, under the royal canopythere were eyes that looked not lovingly upon him, there were lips theremurmuring soft words of prayer for his success.
When within a few steps of the waiting Othmies, he halted. They glaredat him an instant in silence; then the old chief said tauntingly, andloud enough to be heard above the noise of the conflict at his side,--
"A woman may wield a bow, and from a distance slay a warrior; but the_maquahuitl_ is heavy in the hand of the coward, looking in the face ofhis foeman."
The Aztec made no answer; he was familiar with the wile. Looking at thespeaker as if against him he intended his first attack, with right handback he swung the heavy weapon above his shoulder till it sung inquickening circles; when its force was fully collected, he suddenlyhurled it from him. The old Othmi crouched low behind his shield: buthis was not the form in the 'tzin's eyes; for right in the centre of theyoung victor's guard the flying danger struck. Nor arm nor shield mightbar its way. The boy was lifted sheer above the body of the Otompan, anddriven backward as if shot from a catapult.
Guatamozin advanced no further. A thrust of his javelin would havedisposed of the old Othmi, now unarmed and helpless. The acclamation ofthe audience, in which was blent the shrill voices of women, failed toarouse his passion.
The sturdy chief arose from his crouching; he looked for the boy to whomhe had so lately spoken of home; he saw him lying outstretched, his facein the sand, and his shield, so often bound with wreaths and garlands,twain-broken beneath him; and his will, that in the fight had beentougher than the gold of his bracelets, gave way; forgetful of allelse, he ran, and, with a great cry, threw himself upon the body.
The Chalcan was as exultant as if the achievement had been his own. Eventhe prouder souls under the red canopy yielded their tardy praise; onlythe king was silent.
As none now remained of the challengers but the Tlascalan occupied withIztlil',--none whom he might in honor engage,--Guatamozin moved awayfrom the Othmies; and as he went, once he allowed his glance to wanderto the royal platform, but with thought of love, not wrong.
The attention of the people was again directed to the combat of theTezcucan. The death of his comrades nowise daunted the Tlascalan; herather struck the harder for revenge; his shield was racked, thefeathers in his crest torn away, while the blades were red with hisblood. Still it fared but ill with Iztlil' fighting for himself. Hiswound in the breast bled freely, and his equipments were in no betterplight than his antagonist's. The struggle was that of the hewing andhacking which, whether giving or taking, soon exhausts the strongestframe. At last, faint with loss of blood, he went down. The Tlascalanattempted to strike a final blow, but darkness rushed upon him; hestaggered, the blades sunk into the sand, and he rolled beside hisenemy.
With that the combat was done. The challengers might not behold their"land of bread" again; nevermore for them was hammock by the stream orecho of tambour amongst the hills.
And all the multitude arose and gave way to their rejoicing; theyembraced each other, and shouted and sang; the pabas waved theirensigns, and the soldiers saluted with voice and pealing shells; and upto the sun ascended the name of Quetzal' with form and circumstance tosoften the mood of the most demanding god; but all the time theaudience saw only the fortunate hero, standing so calmly before them,the dead at his feet, and the golden light about him.
And the king was happy as the rest, and talked gayly, caring little forthe living or the dead. The combat was over, and Quetzal' not come.Mualox was a madman, not a prophet; the Aztecs had won, and the god waspropitiated: so the questioner of the Morning flattered himself!
"If the Othmi cannot fight, he can serve for sacrifice. Let him beremoved. And the dead--But hold!" he cried, and his cheeks blanchedwith mortal pallor. "Who comes yonder? Look to the arena,--nay, to thepeople! By my father's ashes, the paba shall perish! White hairs andprophet's gifts shall not save him."
While the king was speaking, Mualox, the keeper of the temple, rushedwithin the wall of shields. His dress was disordered, and he wasbareheaded and unsandalled. Over his shoulders and down his breastflowed his hair and beard, tangled and unkempt, wavy as a billow andwhite as the foam. Excitement flashed from every feature; and far as hisvision ranged,--in every quarter, on every platform,--in the blood ofothers he kindled his own unwonted passion.