CHAPTER IV.
TLAHUICOL'S LAST BATTLE
The amphitheatre in which Tlahuicol was to make so desperate afight for his life was enclosed on three sides by low buildings,having terraced roofs on which a vast number of spectators could beaccommodated. In its centre was an immense circular stone, like agigantic mill-stone, on the flat surface of which were fought allgladiatorial combats. Late in the afternoon of the day of feasting,when the thousands of spectators were weary of the brutal games bywhich until that time they had been entertained, an expectant murmursuddenly swept over the vast assemblage, and then broke into a roarof applause. Six warriors of noble birth, wearing on their headsgolden casques in the likenesses of a dog, a fox, a wolf, a bear, anocelot, and a mountain-lion, with a carriage that bespoke their martialtraining, had entered the amphitheatre, and were marching slowly aroundthe outer edge of the great stone. When they reached the point nearestthe pavilion in which, beneath a canopy of royal green, reclined theking, surrounded by his attendant nobles, the six warriors prostratedthemselves until their foreheads touched the pavement. Then theycontinued their measured march until they reached the side of theamphitheatre opposite that by which they had entered.
Now, to the barbaric music of drums, attabals, and shells, thereentered a single figure between a double file of soldiers, and thehurricane of applause by which he was greeted would have proclaimed hisidentity even had not his name been heard on all sides.
"Tlahuicol the ocelot!" "Tlahuicol the wolf!" "Tlahuicol themountain-lion!" "Tlahuicol the terrible!" shouted the spectators, andthe eyes of the great warrior lighted with a momentary gleam of triumphat these tributes from his enemies. He was conducted directly to thecentre of the great stone, where one of his ankles was tethered bya short chain to a ring-bolt let into the unyielding rock. Then oneof his guards stripped the tilmatli from his shoulders, disclosingthe fact that he was naked, save for a cloth about his loins, andunprotected by armor of any kind. At the same moment another soldierhanded the prisoner the maquahuitl with which he was to defend his life.
Tlahuicol balanced it for a moment in his hand, then suddenly snappedits tough staff in two without apparent effort, and disdainfully flungthe pieces from him. Turning toward the king he cried, in a loud voice:
"It was but a toy! a child's plaything, and yet it was given me forthe defence of my life! Let me, I pray thee, O king, have my own goodsword. Then will I show thee a fight that may prove of interest."
The king nodded his assent. A soldier was despatched for the weapon,and shortly returned, bearing in both hands a maquahuitl so huge that amurmur of amazement arose from the spectators, who deemed it impossiblethat any man could wield it. But Tlahuicol received it with a smile ofsatisfaction, swung it lightly twice or thrice above his head, and thenleaned upon it with an expectant air as though inviting his enemies toapproach. No further invitation was needed, for no Aztec warrior worthyof the name was ever lacking in bravery. The young noble who wore thehead of a fox sprang forward, and, with guarded movements, approachedthe chained but still terrible champion.
Cautiously the fox circled about his adversary seeking an unguardedpoint at which to strike. On account of his fettered leg Tlahuicolcould only turn half-way round, but he would then whirl about soquickly that, in spite of his disadvantage, he presented no openingfor attack for some minutes. At length, wearying of such fruitlessplay, he purposely made his movements slower, until the Fox, thinkinghis opportunity had come, sprang forward to deliver a deadly blow. Inan instant his sword was struck from his hand. Broken and useless itwas sent spinning to the further side of the arena, and the Fox reeledbackward with the force of the blow. Recovering himself he sprang to asoldier who stood near, snatched a javelin from his hand, and hurledit with deadly aim at Tlahuicol's head. Without moving his body, theToltec bent his head to one side, caught the hurtling weapon in hisleft hand, and, almost with the same motion, flung it back with suchterrible force that it passed completely through the body of the Aztecand fell to the ground behind him. He staggered, fell, and was borne,dying, from the scene.
Instantly two of his companions took his vacant place. Filled with ragethey advanced impetuously and somewhat incautiously. As their weaponswere raised to strike, the terrible maquahuitl of Tlahuicol crushed theskull of one like an egg-shell, and then, with a fierce backward blow,sent the other reeling a dozen paces away, so severely wounded that itwas doubtful if he might ever recover. Marvellous as this feat was, itdid not wholly save the Toltec from the descending sword of his thirdenemy. The keen obsidian blade cut a frightful gash in his side, and hewas instantly bathed in his own blood.
But the wounded warrior had no time to consider his own condition, for,almost before he realized that he had been struck, two fresh assailantswere upon him. One of these was cleft from casque to shoulders byTlahuicol's awful weapon, which seemed to the breathless spectatorslike a thunderbolt in the hands of a god. Ere the Toltec could recoverhimself, the other rushed in and bore him to the ground, where, fallinguppermost, the Aztec hoped to deal a fatal blow with his dagger. Beforehe could accomplish his purpose the champion's arms had enfolded himin an embrace so deadly that the breath was driven from his body witha sound that might be heard in all parts of the amphitheatre, and hisribs were crushed like pipe-stems. Leaping to his feet, amid thundersof applause from the frenzied spectators, the Toltec flung the lifelessbody from him, and regained his ponderous sword just in time to meetthe onset of his sixth, and most powerful, assailant, he whose casquewas fashioned in the likeness of an ocelot.
Now the breath of the champion came in sobbing gasps, and he wasso weakened by loss of blood that it seemed impossible for him towithstand the furious onslaught of this fresh adversary. For the spaceof two minutes the exchange of blows was so rapid that there was butone continuous crash of sound. Then the ocelot leaped back beyondreach of his tethered opponent. The Toltec staggered and seemed aboutto fall. Suddenly, rallying his failing strength, he hurled his heavyweapon so truly, and with such mighty force, that the last of hisassailants was swept over the edge of the platform on which they hadfought, and rolled, to all appearance lifeless, to the base of theroyal pavilion.
For an instant there was a silence as of death in the vastamphitheatre. Then it was broken by a thrilling cry in the Mayan tongueof "Father! oh, Father! you have conquered! you are free!"
Tlahuicol, who had fallen to his knees with the force of his lasteffort, lifted his drooping head and looked to where Huetzin struggledin the grasp of two brawny priests. Then, very feebly, with his righthand, he made a sign such as but two persons in that vast concourserecognized. He touched his forehead, his breast, and both shoulders. Itwas the sign of the God of the Four Winds, the almost forgotten symbolof the Toltec faith. Huetzin knew it, and so did one of the priests whoheld him.
With the making of this sacred symbol of his race, the mighty warriorfell forward and lay prone on the bloody stone, unmindful of the wildstorm of plaudits by which his unprecedented victory was hailed.
Suddenly, while all was confusion, the fierce figure of Topil, thechief priest, sprang to the platform, and, snatching the dread knife ofsacrifice from his girdle, bent over the prostrate man. The next momenthe rose, and with a savage cry of triumph held aloft the heart of thebravest son of Anahuac. The cheering of the multitude sank into ashuddering cry of horror at this dastardly act. Had another committedit he would have been rent in pieces, but the person of the chiefpriest was sacred.
Even the elements seemed aghast at the dreadful deed; for, though thesun had not yet set, the sky was darkened by a veil of inky blackness,and an ominous moaning filled the air.
Paying no heed to these portents, nor to the black looks of those abouthim, Topil screamed to his fellows that the son should share the fateof the father, and that the god was weary of waiting for the offeringof their hearts. Then, bidding them follow him with the prisoner, hesprang up the steps of the great temple. With shrill cries the obedientpriests forced a passage through the sur
ging multitude, and hurriedHuetzin in the same direction. Even the king had no power to stop them,for in Tenochtitlan the chief priest was mightier than he.
So the compact body of white-robed priests mounted flight after flightof steps, and swept around the four sides of the teocal along terraceabove terrace. Finally they gained the summit of the lofty pyramid, anddisappeared from the view of the silent throngs who gazed, as thoughfascinated, after them.
Inevitable and awful as was the fate before him, Huetzin had but onethought as he was dragged up those weary flights, and along thoseinterminable terraces. It was not for himself, but for his sisterTiata, the dear one who, with his last words, the dead father hadentrusted to his care. Without father, mother, or brother, whatwould be her fate? What would become of her? As they stripped him andstretched his naked body on the dread stone of sacrifice, he criedaloud in his agony:
"Tiata! sister! To the god of the Toltecs, our father's god and ourgod, I commend thee!"