Feathered Serpent by Colin Falconer Page A

fatigued,” I tell Tendile. “He must meet the Revered Speaker in person. He is guided in this by Olintecle, Father of all Gods and Mover of the Universe.”
    Tendile groans, as if a great burden has been settled on his shoulders. In a way, it has, for he must now bear this news to Motecuhzoma personally, and at great risk to himself, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps in his failure here he foresees his own death.
      ———————
     
    After the Mexica had left the thunder gods and their moles fall on the bounty. The beautiful and valuable quetzal feathers, intricately worked by master craftsmen; the prized shell jewellery; the sacred wooden masks; the fine embroidered cloths; all are trampled under the moles' boots as they fight each other to touch and admire the gold.
    Feathered Serpent looks dismayed. I believe my god is ashamed of his cohorts. I recall what he had said about the heart sickness from which his followers suffer. It must indeed be terrible to be afflicted by such a disease for it turns gods into monkeys.
     
     
Chapter Fourteen
     
    Already they called this San Juan de Ulúa an infernal place, surely invented by the devil with all his talents and experience for slow tortures. By day small groups of men gathered under the trees, grumbling to each other about the insects and the scorpions and the heat; when night came they shivered in the sudden cold and scratched at their mosquito bites, tormented by the unearthly shrieks of the owl men in the nearby camp.
    The morning after Tendile’s departure they gathered on the sand to watch as Motecuhzoma’s treasures was carried over the sand. Some dared to wonder aloud if they would ever see any of it again. As the great wheel of gold was lashed between two of the longboats they muttered among themselves and threw hard stares at Cortés and his captains.
    With the Lord Tendile’s departure the attitude of the naturals began to change. Each day there was less and less food.
    Benítez heard the whispers: What are we doing sitting here on this accursed beach? The governor’s orders were to trade with the Indians and explore the coast. Here we do neither. The only gold we have seen so far Cortés has hidden away on his own ship. Any moment the naturales might swarm from the jungle and attack us ...
    Since the battle on the Tabasco River a dozen soldiers had died from wounds they received there. Since then, they had lost another two dozen to fever and the vómito.
    There was talk about returning to Cuba. But if they went back now, would the governor, Velásquez, share the treasure with them, or would he keep it for himself?
    Benítez suspected he knew the answer to that.
    They waited for word from Motecuhzoma.
      ———————
     
    One morning they woke to find the Indians had gone; their camp was deserted, fires still smoking, corn cakes burned to charcoal on the griddles. There had been two thousand of them, and they had all slipped away in the night, leaving them stranded there on the beach.
     
     
Chapter Fifteen
     
    The tension was betrayed on all their faces. Since the Indians had vanished Cortés had warned them to expect attacks. Even at night they slept in full armour.
    Now he called all his officers to an urgent meeting. Only Alvarado seemed unconcerned by their predicament, slouching at the entrance to the tent, a smirk on his handsome, golden face.
    “I cannot understand what has happened,” Sandoval said. “Why did the naturales run away? I thought we made it clear we were their friends.”
    “They were happy to accept that friendship,” Leon growled, “until Cortés insisted on a meeting with this Motecuhzoma.”
    Cortés accepted the rebuke in silence.
    Ordaz was next to speak. “The men feel it is now time to go back to Cuba.”
    “But there is still so much more to be won,” Cortés answered, his voice deceptively mild. “All of you saw the golden wheel Motecuhzoma presented to us. That is the only beginning of the great