CHAPTER XVIII.
Hard by to the town of Zempoala ran a little brook, coursing throughagreeable meadows, and here and there skirted by green forests. In awood that overshadowed this current,--but at the distance of a quarterleague from it,--lay concealed the forces of Hernan Cortes, waitingpatiently for the time when the squadrons of Narvaez, satiated with thesports of their tawny neighbours, should, additionally, recompense theexploits of the day with the oblivion of slumber. They had watched withcontempt, and with joy (for they perceived in such spectacle, a symptomof the infatuated security of their enemies,) the great fire thatlighted the diversions of the evening, blazing on the pyramid; until itbegan to die away, as did many of the sounds of revelry, that, in thestill hour of the night, were borne to their ears. But it was not untiltheir spies brought word that the last brand was flinging its decayinglustre over the eaves of the towers, that they were bidden to arise,cross the stream, and array for battle.
In deep silence--for they knew there were sentinels on the path--theyreached and forded the rivulet: trooper and footman passed over, andwere ranked under their several leaders, and all seemed in readiness forthe assault.
Still, however, the knight of Calavar sat motionless on his sable steed,as if all unaware of the tempest of war that was brewing; and Don Amadorbeheld, with a pang of unutterable grief and vexation, the departure ofthose bold spirits to the scene of strife and honour, in which he was tohave no share. As he sat fuming and frowning, now on the point of urginghis kinsman for permission to follow, now reproaching himself in bitterreprehension, as if the unuttered wish might recall some of thosethoughts of misery which so often perplexed the brain of the crazedknight, he heard the foot-fall of a horse, and perceived a cavalierriding towards him. To his grief was superadded a pang of shame, as hesaw in this individual the person of Cortes himself, and conceived theobject of his return.
"I am loath to see that the noble Calavar still abides by the blackmantle," he said, as if content to waste no arguments on the knight;"but if the very valiant Don Amador de Leste be desirous to repay uponNarvaez the injuries done to his honour, or if he be minded to bestowupon me that great favour whereof he spoke on the River of Canoes, therecan never come a better opportunity than this present: and for theservices he may render me personally, as well as a most loyal cause,this night, by leading his followers with me to the pyramid, I shallever remain in thankful remembrance."
The words stuck in the throat of the novice, as he replied, "I am theslave of my kinsman: I burn to follow you--but my knight must command."
He turned to Calavar, with a look of despair; but the night whichconcealed it from the eye, could not preserve the reproach from the ear.
"Stay thou by my side, Amador, my son," said Calavar, sorrowfully; "andlet no man that follows thee or me, think to draw his sword this night;for we are the followers of St. John, and may not contend with aChristian, except in self-preservation."
"God shield thee, sir knight," cried the general, anxiously; "every manwho strikes with us to-night, strikes for his own life: victorypreserves us, and defeat conducts us to the scaffold; and I am free toconfess to _thee_, what I dared not speak to my companions, that unlessevery man does his duty, and God looks kindly upon all, I know not howsoon we may be under the foot of our enemy."
"I have not refused thee my sword," said the knight calmly, "when aninfidel stood in thy path; nor will I, when such opposition is againmade."
"But thy noble and valiant kinsman, and thy people," said the general,hastily: "they long to divide the honour of this combat, and they haveno vows to restrain them. Every sword to-night is as valuable as a Cid'sright arm."
"Tempt them not! delude them not into the commission of a great sin,that will fill their future days with remorse," said Calavar, earnestly.But before he could add any thing further, the report of an arquebusefrom the front filled the forest with its roar, and Cortes, plunging thespur into his charger, was instantly borne out of sight.
"For God's sake!" cried Amador, with despairing entreaty, "let us crossthe brook, and follow these brave men a little, though we join not inthe battle."
"I will not refuse thee so much as that," said the knight, with somelittle animation, which was perhaps caused by the martial associationsof the explosion. "It is not forbidden us at least to look on; and by sodoing, heaven may perchance allow us the happiness to save some wretchedlife."
In a moment the little party had crossed the brook and spurring theirhorses hard, followed, as they thought, in the path of their latecompanion. But, though the moon frequently displayed her resplendentvisage through loop-holes in the scudding clouds, the many clumps oftrees that dotted over the meadows in the environs of Zempoala, soconfounded the vision, that they had reached the very suburbs, withoutyet obtaining a view of the adventurers. Indeed it had so happened, thatnot being provided with a guide acquainted with the various approachesto the town, they fell upon one entirely different from that trodden bythe assailants. Not doubting however that they were following closelyupon their rear, they pushed boldly on through a deserted street,echoing loudly to the clatter of their steps; nor did they discovertheir error until, to their great surprise, they found themselvesissuing upon the great square, in full view of the temple.
They paused an instant in confusion.--No tumult of shouts or fire-armscame from the sanctuaries; a deep silence brooded over the city as withwings; in fact, no sound broke the solemn tranquillity of midnight, saveone which was the evidence and representative of peace. The fainttwangling of a lute, mingling with the sweet tones of a youthful voice,came from the chief tower; to hear which the sentinels had doubtlessstolen from their posts among the cannon, which were now seen frowningin solitude on the verge of the platform.
Before Don Amador could take time to ponder on the infatuatedrecklessness of the Biscayan general, or bethink him much of the youngMoor of Fez, whose voice it was, he did not doubt, that sounded soplaintively from the tower, and which, by some inexplicable principle ofassociation, instantly wafted his spirit to Granada, and wrung it with asharp and sudden anguish,--the clattering of a horseman riding furiouslyup a neighbouring street, roused him from the imperfect revery; and hisheart waxed hot and fierce, as the loud cry, _Arma! Arma! A las armas!_burst from the lips of the flying sentry. In a moment of time thisfaithful watchman was seen dashing across the square; and as he flunghimself from his steed, and rushed up the steps of the pyramid, stillshouting the alarm at the top of his voice, there was heard anothersound following at his heels, in which the practised ear of the neophytedetected the tramp of footmen, pursuing with the speed of death. In amoment, also, ceased the lute and the voice of the singer; torchesflashed suddenly from the doors of the towers; and as their light shotover the open square, there was seen a hurried mass of men running inconfusion over the area of the pyramid. But the same flash that revealedthis spectacle, disclosed also the wild figures and hostile visages ofthe men of Cortes, rushing to the assault, and sending forth a shout,that made the whole town ring and tremble to its foundations.
It was not in the nature of man to see these sights and hear thesesounds with composure; and accordingly Don Amador had no soonerdismounted and flung the reins of Fogoso into the hands of Lazaro, thanhe perceived the knight of Calavar, on foot, at his side. He turned aninflamed, and perhaps a rebellious eye on his kinsman; but thecountenance of Calavar was bent on his own, with a ghastly placidity;and as the hand of the knight was laid on his shoulder, as if torestrain his fury, the youth groaned in bitterness and anger.
"By heaven!" he cried, "I see the very face of Sandoval, as he darts atthe steps!--O my friend! my father!"
"Shed no blood!" said the knight, with a hollow, but stern and vehementvoice. "The avenger will follow thee by night and by day, at prayers andin battle--Shed no blood!"
"We are alone, too!" cried Amador, with ungovernable fire, as he foundthat Marco, Lazaro, and Baltasar, after flinging the reins of theirhorses round the shrubs that grew at the corner, had
vanished from hisside. "Even the varlets may strike at the knave who has wronged me; yetmay I not raise my hand!"
"Shed no blood!" reiterated Don Gabriel, in a sort of frenzy: "Forgetthy rage, forswear thy fury! slay thyself, but strike not invengeance!--Miserere mei, Deus!"
All these wild words, though they take moments to record, were theutterance of an instant; and while the piteous plaint of the knightCalavar still winged its way to heaven, and before Amador could reply asingle word, the shouts of the assailants, as they rushed up the steps,were met by the roar of a cannon discharged by a skilful hand,illumining tree and tower with a hideous glare, and flinging death andhavoc among their ranks. But the foot of desperation was on the earth ofthe temple; and before another piece of artillery could answer to thehollow thunder of the hills, the spear of Chinantla was drinking theblood of the cannoniers. At this moment, and while even the youngFabueno grasped the sword in his feeble hands, and turned his pale faceto the battle,--while Amador gnashed his teeth with rage,--there rosefrom the platform, above the shouts and yells of the combatants, ashriek as though of a woman struck by the spear of some ferociousdastard.--If the blow of an enemy had fallen upon his cheek, the youngcavalier could not have started from the grasp of his kinsman, and drawnhis sword, with a more irresistible impulse. But, in truth, the same crythat inflamed his own brain, went also to the heart of Calavar; and whenhe dashed up the pyramid with furious haste, as if to the rescue of asworn friend, the knight of Rhodes, drawing his weapon, followedfiercely after.
The scene that awaited the neophyte on the platform, though composed ofmen writhing together in thick affray, did not dwell an instant on hiseye. It had caught, as if by providential direction, in the very chaosof combat, the figure that had sent forth the cry of affliction; and ashe bestrid the body of Abdalla, and caught up the childish minstrel fromhis person, he shivered with a single stroke of his sabre, the spearthat, in a moment, would have pinned to the earth both father and son.
"Dog of a conjurer!" he cried, as he discovered the person of Botello inthe discomfited slayer, and prepared, while the terrified striplingclung convulsively to his body, to shield him from the weapons ofothers; "dog of a conjurer! thy cruelty cancels thy services, and I willcleave thee for a viper!"
"What is written is written--God be thanked! I knew not 'twas a boy."And in an instant Botello vanished among the combatants.
"I thought thee a woman, thou scared varlet!--Cheer up, Abdalla!--theyshall not harm thee.--Father! my knight and my father! wilt thou protectmy boy, that I have saved, and his sire, the Christian Moor?" criedAmador, as he perceived the knight stand staring wildly at his side. "Ileave them to thee.--Surely there may be other lives to save!" And thusconcealing his excitement in what seemed an excuse for his disobedience,and without waiting for an answer, he rushed instantly into the thickestof the combat.