Aztec Autumn - Jennings Gary (книга бесплатный формат .TXT) 📗

Truth to tell, I was rather sleepy, after my night of frolicking with Ameyatl, so, to keep myself awake by talking to somebody, I beckoned for Ticitl Ualiztli to move his horse forward and ride alongside me. He and I conversed on various topics, including the manner by which my cousin Yeyac had been slain.

"So the arcabuz kills by hurling a metal ball," he said, reflectively. "What sort of wound does that inflict, Tenamaxtzin? A blow? A penetration?"

"Oh, a penetration, I assure you. Much like that made by an arrow, but more forcefully and deeply."

The ticitl said, "I have known men to live, and even go on fighting, with an arrow in them. Or more than one arrow, providing that none has pierced a vital organ. And an arrow, of course, by its very nature, plugs its own puncture and stanches the bleeding to a considerable degree."

"The lead ball does not," I said. "Also, if an arrow-wounded man is quickly attended, a ticitl can pluck out the arrow in order to treat the injury. A ball would be almost impossible to extract."

"Still," said Ualiztli, "if that ball had not irreparably damaged some internal organ, the victim's only real danger would be of bleeding to death."

I said grimly, "I made sure of Yeyac's doing just that. As soon as his belly was punctured, I turned him facedown—and kept him that way—so his life's blood would the more quickly pour out."

"Hmm," said the ticitl, and rode in silence for a bit, then commented, "I wish I had been called, when you brought him to Aztlan, so I could have examined that wound. I daresay I shall have to attend many such in the days to come."

Our column continued the three-day march always in formation, as I had commanded, for I wanted my warriors all compact in case we should meet an enemy force coming north from Compostela. But we encountered none, and never even espied any enemy soldiers scouting the route. So, during that time, I had no cause to try concealing or dispersing my men. And, when we camped each night, we made no attempt to hide the light of the fires over which we cooked our meals. Very good and nourishing and strengthening meals they were, too, of game killed along the way by warriors assigned to that duty.

But I had estimated that, by the fourth morning, we would be within sight of any sentinels Coronado might have posted around his town. At dawn of that day, I summoned my knights and cuachictin to tell them:

"I expect us to be in charging distance of Compostela by nightfall. But I do not intend to make a charge from this direction, which the Spaniards would be most likely to anticipate. Nor do I intend to make our assault immediately. We will circle around the town and assemble again on the far southern side of it. So, from here onward, your forces are to be divided in twain, one half to move well to the west of this main trail, the other half well to the east. And each of those halves is to be divided even further—into separate, individual warriors, each making his way most cautiously and silently southward. All standards are to be furled, spears to be carried at the level, every man to take advantage of trees, underbrush, cactus, whatever other cover serves to make him as invisible as possible."

I took off my own ostentatious headdress, folded it carefully and tucked it behind my saddle.

"Without the flags, my lord," said one knight, "how do we men afoot maintain contact with each other?"

I said, "I and these three other mounted men will continue openly, in full sight, along this trail. Atop these horses we will be guides conspicuous enough for the men to follow. And tell them this: The foremost among them is to stay at least a hundred paces behind me. Meanwhile, they need no contact with each other. The farther apart they are, the better. If one man comes upon a lurking Spanish scout, he is of course to kill that enemy, but quietly and unnoticeably. I want all of us to get close to Compostela without detection. However, if any of your men should encounter an enemy patrol or outpost that he cannot vanquish single-handed, then let him raise the war cry, and let the guidons be unfurled and let all your men—but only on that side of the trail—rally to that signal. The men on the other side are to go on silently and furtively, as before."

"But, scattered as we will be," said another knight, "is it not equally possible that Spaniards waiting in hiding can pick us off, one by one?"

"No," I said flatly. "No white man will ever be able to move as noiselessly and invisibly as can we who were born to this land. And no Spanish soldier, encumbered with metal and leather, can even patiently sit still without making some inadvertent sound or movement."

"The Uey-Tecutli speaks truly," said G'nda Ke, who had elbowed her way into the group and, as usual, had to interpose a comment, however unnecessary. "G'nda Ke is acquainted with Spanish soldiers. Even a shuffling, stumbling cripple could steal upon them unawares."

"Now," I went on, "assuming that we are not interrupted by any hand-to-hand fighting or discovered by any uproar or impeded by any superior force, both halves of the troop are to keep going southward, guiding on me. When I judge that the time is right, I will turn my horse westward, toward where the sun will then be setting—because I would like to have Tonatiu's favor shining upon me as long as possible. The warriors on that western side of the trail will continue to follow me—a hundred paces behind—and trust me to lead them safely around the outside of the town."

"G'nda Ke will be right behind them," she said complacently.

I threw her a glance of exasperation. "At the same time, the Cuachic Comitl will turn his horse eastward, and the men on that side of the trail are to follow him. Sometime late in the night, both halves of our forces should be south of the city. I will send messengers to make contact between the two and arrange for our reassembly. Am I understood?"

The officers all made the gesture of tlalqualiztli, then went to pass on my orders to their men. In a very little while, the warriors had almost magically—like the morning's dew—vanished into the brush and trees, and the trail behind was empty. Only Ualiztli, Nocheztli, the Mexicatl Comitl and I still sat our mounts there in full view.

"Nocheztli," I said, "you will take the point. Ride on ahead, still at the walk. We three will not follow until you are out of sight. Keep going until you espy any sign of the enemy. Even if they have put out guards or barricades far to this side of the town and they see you before you can avoid them, they will not be expecting just one attacker. Also, they may well recognize you and be perplexed by your approach—especially since you come like a Spaniard, astride a horse. Their hesitation should give you chance enough to get away unharmed. Anyway, if and when you do sight the enemy—in force or otherwise—turn straight about and hurry back to me with the report."

He asked, "And if I see nothing at all, my lord?"

"Should you be gone too long, and I decide the time has come for division of our men, I will loudly give the owl-hoot call. If you hear that—and are not dead or captured—race back to join us."

"Yes, my lord. I am gone." And he was.

When he was no longer visible, the ticitl, Comitl and I put our own horses to the walk. The sun crossed the sky at about the same slow pace, and the three of us passed that long, anxious day in desultory conversation. It was late in the afternoon when at last we saw Nocheztli coming back toward us, and he was hardly hurrying—moving only at an easy trot, though I doubt that it felt very easy to his backside.