Aztec - Jennings Gary (книги хорошем качестве бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

I came down from them finally, into the meager capital city of Chiapan, and went straight to the workshop of the Master Xibalba.

"Ah!" said he with delight. "I thought you would be back. So I have been collecting all the quartz possible, and making of it many more burning crystals."

"Yes, they sell well," I told him. "This time I insist on paying you their full value and the full worth of your labors on them." I also told him how my topaz, by enhancing my vision, had much enriched my life, and how grateful I was to him.

When I had filled my pack with the cotton-wrapped crystals, I was carrying almost as much weight as each of my absent porters. But I did not stay to rest and refresh myself in Chiapan, because I could hardly have stayed anywhere but at the home of the Macoboo family, and there I should have had to fend off the advances of those two female cousins, which would hardly be polite behavior for a guest. So I paid the Master Xibalba in gold dust, and hurried on my way.

Some days later, after only a little searching about, I found the spot, remote from any inhabited area, where my men awaited me, sitting around a campfire and a litter of picked-clean bones of armadillos and iguanas and such. There we lingered only long enough for me to get a good night's sleep, and for one of the old campaigners to cook for me my first hot meal since I had left them: a plump pheasant broiled over the fire.

When we came through the eastern reaches of the city of Tecuantepec, we could see the marks of the Mexica's depredations, though most of the burned-over areas had already been rebuilt. In fact, the city had been rather improved thereby. There were decent and sturdy houses in the once squalid area where I had formerly seen only woebegone shanties—including the one that had been such a landmark in my life. When we made our way through the city to its western edge, however, we found that the rioting soldiers had apparently not carried their rampage that far. The familiar inn was still there. I left my men in the yard while I went in, shouting boisterously:

"Innkeeper! Have you room for a weary pochteatl and his train?"

Beu Ribe came from some inner room, looking healthy and fit and as beautiful as ever, but her only greeting was to say:

"The Mexica are not very popular hereabouts these days."

I said, still trying for cordiality, "Surely, Waiting Moon, you make an exception of your own brother, Dark Cloud. Your sister sent me all this way to make sure of your safety. I am happy to see you were unharmed by the troubles."

"Unharmed," she said in a flat voice. "I am happy that you are happy, since it was your doing that the Mexica soldiers came here. Everyone knows they were sent because of your misadventures with the Zyu, and your failure to seize the purple dye."

That much was true, I admitted. "But you cannot blame me for—"

"There is blame enough for me to share it!" she said bitterly. "I am blamed that this inn ever gave you shelter in the first place!" Then she seemed suddenly to droop. "But I have long been acquainted with scorn, have I not? Yes, you may have a room, and you know where to lodge your porters. The servants will see to you."

She turned and went back to whatever she had been busy with. Hardly a tumultuous or even sisterly welcome, I thought to myself. But the servants got my men and my goods stowed away, and prepared a meal for me. When I had finished it and was smoking a poquietl, Beu came through the room. She would have kept right on walking, but I took her wrist and stopped her and said:

"I do not deceive myself, Beu. I know you dislike me, and if the recent Mexica riots made you love me even less—"

She interrupted me, her winglike eyebrows haughtily high. "Dislike? Love? Those are emotions. What right have I to feel any emotion toward you, husband of my sister?"

"All right," I said impatiently. "Despise me. Ignore me. But will you not give me some word to take back to Zyanya?"

"Yes. Tell her I was raped by a Mexicatl soldier."

Stunned, I let go of her wrist. I tried to think of something to say, but she laughed and went on:

"Oh, do not say you are sorry. I think I can still claim virginity, for he was exceptionally inept. In his attempt to debase me, he only confirmed my already abysmal opinion of the arrogant Mexica."

I found my voice, and demanded, "His name. If he has not yet been executed, I will see to it."

"Do you suppose he introduced himself?" she said, laughing again. "I believe he was no soldier of common rank, though I do not know all your military insignia, and my room was dark. But I did recognize the costume he made me don for the occasion. I was forced to put soot on my face, and to put on the black, musty robes of a female temple attendant."

"What?" I said, stupefied.

"There was not much conversation, but I realized that mere virginity was not sufficient to excite him. I realized that he could only be aroused by pretending that he violated the holy and untouchable."

"I never heard of such a—"

She said, "Do not try to make excuses for your countryman. And you do not need to commiserate with me. I told you: he was quite unsuited to be a violator of women. His—I believe you call it a tepuli—his tepuli was all knobby and gnarled and bent. The act of penetration—"

"Please, Beu," I said. "This telling cannot be pleasant for you."

"Neither was the experience," she said, as coolly as if describing someone else's. "A woman who must later endure being pointed out as a victim of rape should at least have been well raped. His maimed tepuli would penetrate only as far as its head, or bulb, or whatever you call that. And for all his heaving and grunting, it would not stay in. When he finally emitted his juice, it merely dribbled onto my leg. I do not know if there are degrees of virginity, but I think I can still call myself a virgin. I also think the man felt even more shamed and mortified than I did. He could not even look me in the eye while I undressed again and he collected those awful temple garments and carried them away with him."

I said helplessly, "He certainly does not sound like—"

"Like the typical, virile Mexicatl male? Like Zaa Nayazu?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Tell me truly, Zaa, has my little sister ever really been satisfied in her marriage bed?"

"Please, Beu. This is unseemly."

She said a profanity: "Gi zyaba! What can be unseemly for a woman already degraded? If you will not tell me, why not show me? Prove to me that you are a fit husband. Oh, do not blush and turn away. Remember, I saw you do it once, but my mother never said afterward whether it was good or not. I would be gratified to know, and from personal experience. Come to my room. Why should you have qualms about using a woman who has already been used? Not much used, of course, but—"

Firmly, I changed the subject. "I told Zyanya I would bring you to Tenochtitlan if you were suffering or in any danger. We have a house of many rooms. I ask you now, Beu. If you find your situation here intolerable, will you come away and live with us?"

"Impossible!" she snapped. "Live under your roof? How could I there ignore you, as you have suggested?"

Unable to control myself any longer, I said loudly, "I have said and done all I know to say and do. I have spoken apology and contrition and sympathy and brotherly love. I have offered you a good home in a different city where you can hold up your head and forget what is past. But you reply only with sneers and mockery and malice. I will leave in the morning, woman, and you may come with me or not!"