Teomitl nodded to the veteran. "Thank you," he said. He looked at both of them, his eyes narrowing. "Which doesn't excuse the fault."
"My lord–" the burly guard started, but the veteran shushed him.
"I'll take it into consideration," Teomitl said. "In the meantime, you'd better think on what you've done."
He waited until we were out of earshot to speak. "Gods, what fools."
I didn't know why I felt moved to defend them. "You don't know what she offered them."
"I can guess." His face was still as harsh as carved jade. "Gold, feathers, silver. They're no better than Ocome, they'd rather trample their faces and hearts than be destitute."
"Many men would," I said, at last. As High Priest for the Dead, I oversaw inquiries into all kinds of suspicious deaths; and I knew all too well the depths to which the human soul could sink. "Not everyone has your fortitude." Or his fortune, indeed.
"That's no excuse," Teomitl said, a trifle abruptly.
I had seldom seen him like that; it was in moments like these that I felt much younger than him, less hardened to life at Court. I knew that his tutors at the palace had taken him back in hand since last year, but it was as if his brother's death had cracked open a shell, revealing a pearl stuck inside, so luminous and warm that it would burn whoever touched it.
"Well, I hope it's not Xahuia," I said, as we walked out. It was evening, and the palace bustle was slowing down; the braziers' red light shone in the rising gloom. Time to find some dinner, and then head home. It had been a short day which had started late, because of the sleeplessness last night.
"Why?" He looked puzzled. "That would finish the investigation quickly."
"And launch us into a war with Texcoco." The Revered Speaker of Texcoco, Nezahual-tzin, had acceded his throne when young with the support of Tenochtitlan. At sixteen, he remained a beleaguered young man eager to prove himself to his detractors. If we executed his sister, he would at the very least want compensation for her death, if not use the pretext to unify his people against us.
"We'd win the war in any case," Teomitl said. He sounded smug. "We have twice their strength, and the better men."
"I don't think we need that kind of war on our hands right now." As usual, he thought like a warrior first and I, no matter how high I'd risen, would always think like a peasant. His numbers presumed every single able man was pulled from the fields, which would be disastrous for the harvest. Glory was all well and good but not even the warriors would have food if the harvest was not gathered.
"Acatl-tzin." He shook his head, mildly amused. I wasn't entirely sure I liked the way his careless arrogance was turning into something much more contemptuous.
But, then again, I knew exactly who he was borrowing from, and I'd never liked the man's arrogance.
His brother, Tizoc-tzin, perhaps our next Revered Speaker.
I shook my head. "In any case, we need to arrange protection for the remaining councillors." I would have done it myself, but my patron Lord Death wasn't exactly a god of protection against anything.
Teomitl barked a short laugh. "I'm not a priest."
"You're watched over by a goddess, though," I said, but I knew he was right.
Teomitl looked dubious. "I'm not really sure…"
I shook my head. "No, you're right." Any spells Teomitl worked were likely to be large and unsubtle, and shine like a beacon. They might protect, but they'd also draw unwelcome attention. "We'll offer them protection from the Duality." I was sure Ceyaxochitl wouldn't mind. She might groan and protest a little theatrically if she was in a bad mood, but she would understand the stakes.
She always did.
There were many feasts that night in the palace, loud and boisterous, the various candidates for the Turquoise-and-Gold crown showing their largesse and gathering their support. Teomitl, who disliked pomp, led us to the courtyard just outside his rooms, where we sat under the night sky, eating a simple meal of frogs and amaranth dough.
Afterwards, I headed back to my house to sleep – deeply and without dreams. The trumpets of the Sacred Precincts proclaiming the return of the Fifth Sun woke me up just before dawn. I got up, dressed, and found Teomitl already waiting for me, as much at ease as if it had been his own inner quarters he was sitting in, instead of under the lone pine tree in my courtyard.
"I could have picked you up on my way," I said.
He smiled at me sweetly, innocently. "The palace is a dangerous place, Acatl-tzin."
I snorted, but made no further comment.
"Where to?"
"The council," I said; time to see if we could get answers out of them.
We entered the palace through the gates, where Yaotl's wards shone in the sunlight, and headed towards the state room. We were perhaps halfway to it, bypassing the House of Animals where cages held everything from webbed-foot capybaras to dazzling quetzalbirds, when someone called out.
"Acatl!"
It was Quenami. The High Priest of Huitzilpochtli the Southern Hummingbird appeared to have found another set of ceremonial clothes: a heavy feather headdress falling on his back, and huge plumes hanging from his belt, spread like the wings of a hummingbird. He smiled at me with paternal condescension, never mind that he was the younger one here. "Just the man I wanted to see. Come, we need to see the council, and reassure them that nothing is wrong."
Treating me like a peer when it suited him, not that I was surprised. "We were already on our way."
If I'd expected to faze him, I was disappointed. "Perfect. Then let's go together."
I hid my grimace of distaste as best as I could, and fell in step next to him. He was going to be surprised, though, if he thought what I had to say was going to reassure the council.
We had a powerful summoner within the palace, capable of calling star-demons, and ruthlessly determined to influence the succession. Unless things went their way, I very much doubted that they would stop at the murder of one councilman.
Our only hope was to catch them before they struck again.
FOUR
The Council's Quarrels
The state room was on the ground floor, below the Revered Speaker's reception room. To reach it we crossed the courtyard, which, in daylight, was now deserted, order having presumably been restored by the She-Snake's men.
By the noise that came through the entrance-curtain, the council was locked in a bitter discussion. I did not relish having to take part in it, but I also knew that anger made evasions more difficult. I might learn things I wouldn't have found out from clear-headed men.
Teomitl touched my arm as Quenami lifted the entrance-curtain. "Acatl-tzin."
"Yes?"
"I won't be much use in here." His eyes were fierce, still lit with something close to battle-frenzy. "I'll go ask around, to see whose envoys they were. There aren't that many liveries in the palace."