The next day, I selected one item from among our new acquisitions: a small knife sheath, etched with the scene of Quetzalcoatl paddling away from that shore on his raft of entwined snakes. Then I dressed in my best and, while Cozcatl and Blood Glutton escorted Zyanya to show her the sights of Xicalanca, I went to the palace and requested an audience with Cupilco's ruling noble, the Tabascoob, as he was called there. From that title—I do not know why—you Spaniards have concocted a new name for much of the land that was then Olméca country.
The lord received me graciously enough. Like most persons of other nations, he probably had no prodigious affection for us Mexíca. But his land lived by trade, and ours were the most numerous of all traders.
I said, "Lord Tabascoob, one of your local craftsmen, the Master Tuxtem, has lately done a unique kind of artwork in which I expect to turn a profitable trade. But I thought it fitting that the very first example should be presented to the lord of these lands. Hence I offer this token as a gift in the name of my own lord, the Uey-Tlatoani Ahuítzotl of Tenochtítlan."
"A thoughtful gesture and a generous gift," he said, examining the sheath with open admiration. "And a most beautiful work. I have never seen the like."
In return, the Tabascoob gave me a small quill of gold dust to present to Master Tuxtem, and a boxed collection of sea creatures—starfish, sea fawns, a coral sea feather, all gold-dipped for preservation and added beauty—as a reciprocal gift for the Revered Speaker Ahuítzotl. I left the palace feeling that I had accomplished at least a little in the furtherance of good relations between Cupilco and Tenochtítlan.
I made sure to mention that to Ahuítzotl when I called on him immediately after our arrival in The Heart of the One World. I hoped the Tabascoob's good-fellowship gift would help induce the Revered Speaker to grant my request: that Zyanya and I be married by a palace priest of impressive rank and credentials. But Ahuítzotl only gave me his most red-eyed glare and growled:
"You dare to come asking a favor of us, after having disobeyed our express instructions?"
Honestly not understanding, I said, "Disobeyed, my lord?"
"When you brought us the account of your first expedition to the south, we told you to remain available for further discussion of it. Instead you vanished, and deprived the Mexíca of a possibly valuable opportunity to make war. Now you come back, two years later, two years too late, to wheedle our sponsorship of a trifling thing like a wedding!"
Still puzzled, I said, "Assuredly, Lord Speaker, I would never have gone away if I suspected I was doing a disservice. But... what opportunity was lost?"
"Your word pictures told how your train had been beset by Mixteca bandits." His voice rose angrily. "We have never let an attack on our traveling pochtéa go unavenged." He was obviously more angry at me than at the bandits. "Had you been available to press the grievance, we would have had good excuse to send an army against the Mixteca. But, with no demonstrable plaintiff..."
I murmured apologies, and bowed my head humbly, but at the same time I made a deprecatory gesture. "The miserable Mixteca, my lord, possess little worth the winning. However, this time I return from abroad with news of a people who do possess something well worth seizing, and they likewise deserve punishment. I was most harshly treated by them."
"By whom? How? And what do they possess? Speak! It may be that you can redeem yourself in our estimation."
I told him how I had discovered the sea-and-rock-barricaded habitat of the Chontaltin, or the Zyu, or The Strangers, that viciously reclusive offshoot tribe of the Huave. I told how only that people knew when and where to dive for the sea snails, and how those unlovely slugs yield the lovely deep purple dye that never fades or discolors. I suggested that such a unique commodity would be of immeasurable market value. I told how my Tzapotecatl guide had been butchered by The Strangers, and how Zyanya and I had but narrowly escaped the same fate. During my narrative, Ahuítzotl heaved himself up from his grizzled-bear throne and strode excitedly about the room.
"Yes," he said, grinning ravenously. "The outrage against one of our pochtéa would justify a punitive invasion, and the purple alone would amply repay it. But why settle for taming just the one wretched Huave tribe? That land of Uaxyacac has many other treasures worth acquiring. Not since the long-ago days of my father's reign have the Mexíca humbled those proud Tzapoteca."
"I would remind the Revered Speaker," I said quickly, "that not even your father Motecuzóma could keep such a faraway people subject for very long. To do so would require permanent garrisons in that country. And to support the garrisons would require extended supply lines always vulnerable to disruption. Even if a military rule could be imposed and maintained, it would cost more than any expectable return in plunder and tribute."
Ahuítzotl grumbled, "You seem always to have an argument against men waging manly war."
"Not always, my lord. In this case, I would suggest that you enlist the Tzapoteca as allies. Offer them the honor of fighting alongside your own troops when you descend upon the Huave barbarians. Then put that defeated tribe under tribute, not to you, but to the Lord Kosi Yuela of Uaxyacac—to surrender to him all their purple dye from now forevermore."
"What? Fight a war and refuse the fruits of it?"
"Only hear me out, Lord Speaker. After your victory, you arrange a treaty whereby Uaxyacac sells the purple to no one but our Mexíca traders. That way both nations will profit, for of course our pochtéa will resell the dye for a much higher price. You will have bound the Tzapoteca closer to us by the bonds of increased trade—and by their having fought beside the Mexíca for the first time in a mutual military venture."
His glare at me became a gaze of speculation. "And if they fight once as our allies, they could do so again. And again." He bestowed on me a look almost kindly. "The idea is sound. We will give the order to march as soon as our seers have picked an auspicious day for it. Be ready, Tequiua Mixtli, to take command of your allotted warriors."
"But, my lord, I am to be married!"
He muttered, "Xoquiui," which is a low profanity. "You can be married any time, but a soldier is always subject to call, especially one of command rank. Also, you are again the aggrieved party in this business. You are our excuse for violating the borders of Uaxyacac."
"My physical presence will not be necessary, Lord Speaker. The excuse has already been prepared." I told him how I had reported The Strangers' evil doings to the ruling noble of Tecuantopec, and through him to the Lord Bishosu of that land. "None of the Tzapoteca bears any love for that squatter tribe of Huave, so your way to them will not be impeded. Indeed, Kosi Yuela will probably require no coaxing at all to join you in chastising them." I paused, then said meekly, "I hope I did right in thus presuming to ease in advance the affairs of lords and armies and nations."
For a short while, there was no sound in the room except that of Ahuítzotl drumming his thick fingers on a bench of which the upholstery, I suspected, was human skin. Finally he said:
"We are told that your intended bride is of incomparable beauty. Very well. No man who has already done exemplary service for his nation should be required to put the enjoyment of war before the enjoyment of beauty. You will be married here, in the court ballroom, which we have had newly decorated. A palace priest will officiate—our priest of the love goddess Xochiquetzal, I think, not he of the war god Huitzi-Iopóchtli—and our entire retinue will attend. Invite all your fellow pochtéa, your friends, anyone else you choose. Simply consult the palace seers, so they may set a well-omened date. In the meantime, you and your woman go about the city and find a home site which pleases you, one that is yet unoccupied or is purchasable from its owner, and that will be Ahuítzotl's wedding gift to you."