"If you seek only men who can fighton horseback, my lord, naturally I will understand your refusing me. But, as you can easily see, I am considerably overaged and oversized for marching with the army, and carrying my heavy sack while I do so."
"I do not refuse you, Ualíztli. I think a tícitl shouldbe enabled to move quickly about a battlefield, the more easily to administer his services. And I have seen many mounted Spaniards much older and heavier than yourself; if they could ride, surely you can learn."
So, during those days of waiting, I taught the three men as much as I myself knew about handling a horse—devoutly wishing that the far more adroit Tiptoe were there to oversee their training. We did our practices alternately on the paved central square and on grassier grounds elsewhere, and wherever we did, crowds of city folk came to stare—from a discreet distance—in awe and admiration. I let Tícitl Ualíztli use the other saddle on his horse, and Comitl and Nochéztli manfully refrained from complaining at having to jounce about on the ridgepole-steep bare backs of the other two mounts.
"It will toughen you," I assured them, "so that when eventually we confiscate other horses and their saddles from the white soldiers, you will find riding to be easeful indeed."
However, by the time my three students had become at least as adept at riding as I was, our activities had ceased to distract me from anxiety. Seven days had passed since the departure of Tapachíni and his men, time enough for a swift-messenger to have returned to Aztlan, and none had. An eighth day passed, and then a ninth, time enough for allthe escort guards to have returned.
"Something has gone terribly wrong," I growled, on the tenth day, as I moodily paced the throne room. For the moment, I was confiding my consternation only to Améyatl and G'nda Ké. "And I have no way of knowing what!"
My cousin suggested, "The condemned men may have decided to evade their doom. But they could not have slipped away from the line of march by ones and twos, or the escorts would have reported to you. So they must have risen up in mass—they were many and the escorts few—then, after slaying their guards, fled together or separately beyond your reach."
"I have naturally thought of that," I grumbled. "But they had kissed the earth in oath. And they had once been honorable men."
"So was Yeyac—once," Améyatl said bitterly. "While our father was present to keep him loyal and manly and trustworthy."
"Still," I objected, "I find it hard to believe that not oneof those men would have kept his oath—at least to come and tell me that the others had not. And remember, it is virtually certain that Pakápeti was among them in man's disguise. Shewould never desert."
"Perhaps it was she," said G'nda Ké, with her distinctive gloating grin, "who slew them all."
I did not dignify that crass remark with any comment of my own. Améyatl said, "If Yeyac's men did kill their escorts, they would scarcely have balked at killing Tiptoe—or any others of their own—who stood firm against them."
"But they were warriors,"I continued to object. "They still arewarriors, unless the earth opened and swallowed them. They know no other way of life. Together or separately, what will they do with their lives now? Resort to vulgar skulking banditry? That would be unthinkable for a warrior, however dishonorably he had behaved otherwise. No, I can think of only one thing they must have done."
I turned to the Yaki woman and said, "In a time before time, a certain G'nda Ké turned good men into bad, so youmust be well versed in the matter of betrayal. Do you think those men treacherously resumed their alliance with the Spaniards?"
She shrugged indifferently, "To what end? As long as they were Yeyac's men, they could expect favor and preferment. Without Yeyac to lead them, they are nobodies. The Spanish might accept them into their ranks, but would utterly despise them—rightly reckoning that men who had turned against their own people could easily turn again."
I had to admit, "You speak with logic."
"Those deserters would find themselves the lowliest of the low. Even that Arrow Knight would be degraded to yaoquízqui in rank. Certainly he and all the others would have known that, even before they deserted. So why should they? No warrior, however desperate to escape your wrath, could have accepted so much worse a fate."
"Well, whatever they did," said Améyatl, "they did it between here and Compostela. Why not send another quimíchi scurrying to find out?"
"No!" snapped G'nda Ké. "Even if that troop never got near Compostela, the news willinevitably have got there. Any rustic woodcutter or herb-gatherer taking his wares to the town's market must by now have mentioned having seen an armed and menacing force of Aztéca in the vicinity. That Governor Coronado may already be bringing his soldiers hither to forestall your planned insurgency by laying waste to Aztlan. You can no longer afford, Tenamáxtli, merely to afflict the Spaniards with random engagements—like this failed one and those of the Michihuácan women. Whether you are ready or not, whether you like it or not, you are now at war.Committed to wage war. Total war. You have no alternative but to lead your army into it."
I said, "It galls me to admit again that you are right, witch-woman. I wish I could deny you your greatest pleasure, that of seeing blood spilled and destruction widespread. However, what must be, must be. Go you, then, since you are the most war-eager of all in my court. Send word to every knight of Aztlan, to have our army assembled in the central square at tomorrow's dawn, armed and provisioned and ready to march."
G'nda Ké smiled her vile smile and left the room in a hurry.
To Améyatl I said, "I am not going to wait for the Speaking Council's assent to this deployment. You can summon them at your leisure, cousin, and inform them that a state of war now exists between the Aztéca and the Spaniards. The councillors can hardly countermand an action already taken."
Améyatl nodded, but not joyfully.
"I will detach a number of good men to remain here as your palace guard," I went on. "Not enough to repel an assault upon the city, but enough to rush youto safety in case danger threatens. Meanwhile, as regent, you again wield the authority of Uey-Tecútli—the Council knows that—until such time as I return."
She said wistfully, "The last time you left, you were gone for years."
I said cheerfully—trying to cheer her—"Ayyo, Améyatl! On my return this time, whenever that may be, I hope it will be to tell you that our Aztlan is the new Tenochtítlan, capital of a One World rewon, restored, renewed, unshared by aliens. And that we two cousins are the absolute rulers of it."
"Cousins..." she murmured. "Time was, oc ye nechca, we were more like brother and sister."
I said lightly, "Rather more than that,if I may remind you."
"I need no reminding. I held you very dear, then, when you were only a boy. Now you are a man, and a most manly man. What will you be when you return again?"
"Not an oldman, I trust. I should hope to be still capable of... well... worthy of your holding me very dear."