Chapter Seven: QUETZACOATL

Chapter Seven: QUETZACOATL

Don Alonso was unlike any of her previous masters. True she had never been abused or raped either by her Xicalanca captors or the rulers of Pontochan. But Don Alonso exhibited a courtesy to her, treated her with a dignity, that the others had not. Was it because he recognized her royal birth, or did he and the other Spaniards treat women differently in general?

To her Pontochan masters, she didn’t really exist in a certain way. She had been invisible to them – an invisibility Malinali strove consciously to maintain. She did all she could to hide her beauty, for example. She didn’t walk straight, tall, and proudly – she compressed herself and slunk around the palace doing her chores.

She decided to abandon this shrunken invisibility with the Spaniards. She no longer wore her cloak over her head. Her bountiful long black hair was now free to glisten in the sun. She carried herself as her father taught, tall and proud, head high. She was never insolent and obediently did as she was asked without resentment. She could do this because Don Alonso always made requests of her, not dismissive demands. He treated her as an individual person, not an invisible non-entity.

Now being so clearly visible, Don Alonso could not help noticing Malinali’s beauty. “Who is this woman – a slave-girl who carries herself like a queen, who is perhaps the most beautiful lady I have ever seen?” he asked himself. It was expected that Malinali be beside him at night and satisfy him sexually. The same had been expected of her from her Pontochan masters – but for them it was merely the occasional relief of a physical need. Even then she had remained invisible to them. With Don Alonso it was very different.

Through gestures and expressions, he always asked, he would request to have sex with her with a courtesy that made her feel invited not commanded. This enabled her to willingly comply. She felt that Don Alonso was having sex with her personally, that she was not just some interchangeable faceless slave. Malinali had never felt sexual desire before, she had always suppressed it. Now she felt it awakening.

* * * * *

As they sailed north along the coast, Don Alonso would stand with Captain Cortez and other men, pointing to various places. It was as if Don Alonso had been here before. Malinali asked Aguilar if this were true.

“Yes,” he told her. “There have been two expeditions of our people here before us. Well, only one, really, because the first one, led by Hernandez de Cordoba two years ago (1) only reached to Champotan, which is well below Pontochan. He and his men were attacked there by the Mayans. When Cordoba returned to Cuba he died of his wounds.

“Last year, the Governor of Cuba, Diego Velazquez, sent another expedition, led by his nephew Juan de Grijalva. Several of the gentlemen with us now were with Grijalva – Don Alonso, Pedro de Alvarado, Francisco de Montejo, Alonso de Avila, and others. There is even one man who was with Cordoba as well – Bernal Diaz del Castillo.

“When Grijalva reached Champotan, the Mayans pretended to be friendly but he was prepared. The Mayans attacked but many were killed. After Champotan, the expedition sailed to Pontochan, where it was received in peace. That is why we did not understand why the Pontochans attacked us. We expected them to be friendly like they were to Grijalva.”

Malinali interjected: “It was because the Champotans ridiculed them and called them cowards for not attacking the strangers as they did.”

“Perhaps,” Aguilar responded, “that both have learned their lesson now.” He continued.

“Captain Grijalva sailed where we are going now. Don Alonso and Pedro de Alvarado have been telling Captain Cortez the places they have seen on this coast, like Ayagualulco, which they call La Rambla, Tonolá which we call San Antonio, and this river we are passing now for which we have no name.”

Malinali gazed out at the estuary and surrounding features, which she recognized with a jolt. “That river is the Cuatzacualco. Near that far hill with the two humps in the distance is where I was born.”

“That is your home?” Aguilar asked.

“No,” she responded. “It was once. It is not any longer.”

Aguilar noted the bitterness in her voice, but chose not to inquire further.

“How far did your Captain Grijalva go?” Malinali asked to change the subject. “Where does Captain Cortez intend to go?”

“We go to an island just off the coast to the north of here Grijalva called San Juan de Ulua. Nearby I am told is another island, a terrible place Grijalva called Isla de Sacraficio, the Island of Sacrifice, for there they came upon an evil temple with an altar to the Devil. Five Indians had been sacrificed there the night before, their chests had been cut open, their hearts had been ripped out, their arms and legs had been cut off, and the walls were all covered with blood. The people who did this worship the Devil and the men were both angry and afraid.”

Malinali said, “It was the Mesheeka, the Aztecs. Their gods are always hungry for the blood of those they conquer.”

* * * * *

It was a gorgeous morning. The Santa Elena was anchored off San Juan de Ulua with the other ships. Malinali was weaving a mat on the deck when Aguilar greeted her. “It is Maundy Thursday, Holy Thursday, Doña Marina, an auspicious day (2). The men are looking forward to going ashore and…”

He stopped, and looked with everyone else at two large canoes approaching the ship. The Indians in the canoes were unlike any the Spaniards had seen, wearing elegantly embroidered cotton robes and loin cloths, and resplendent in green feather headdresses and gold armbands. They were welcomed aboard the Santa Elena, which, with its banners and pendants waving from the masts was obviously the lead ship. They began speaking in a language that Aguilar did not understand, who shook his head in frustration.

No one on the ship understood what these newcomers were saying, newcomers who carried themselves as dignified nobility. No one except for – Malinali.

The newcomers kept repeating one word – Tlatoani. Malinali pointed to Cortez, whom the newcomers approached. They bowed graciously to Cortez and began addressing him to no avail. Cortez asked Aguilar to bring Malinali to him.

“Doña Marina,” Aguilar said to her with Cortez watching closely, “the Captain wants to know why you pointed to him after these men spoke.”

“These men call themselves Mesheeka,” she answered. “They are also known as Aztecs. They asked who among you is Tlatoani, which means Speaker, who speaks for and leads you. Thus I pointed to Captain Cortez.”

“You speak their language?”

“Yes. It is very similar to the language of my home.”

“Excuse me, Doña Marina, I must explain all this to the Captain who wishes to know who you are.”

There followed exchanges in voluble Spanish between Aguilar, Cortez, and Don Alonso. It seemed that Cortez had never noticed her before, so busy with the expedition. He certainly noticed her now.

“Doña Marina, Captain Cortez wishes you to explain what these ‘Mesheeka’ are saying to me in Mayan, then I will explain it to him in Spanish.”

When Malinali addressed the Aztec messengers, they looked at her in surprise and alarm. Women were not supposed to speak in public. For a woman to address any man other than her husband or close relatives such as her brother or father was an insult to the man. Yet here was a woman who seemed one of them and not of these strangers, who spoke their language as well as they, and was speaking directly at them.

Moreover, if it was necessary for a woman to speak, such as to answer a question, she always did so in a hushed, barely audible tone, with her eyes lowered, never daring to raise her eyes to a man’s level and actually look at him. Yet, again, this woman was both speaking to them in a normal tone of voice and looking right at them as a man would another man. The Mesheeka emissaries found it very unsettling.

The shock in their eyes passed quickly, but Malinali saw it, and knew exactly what had caused it. She had to glance away, to stare out at the sea and the sunlight bouncing off it, in order to make sure she could suppress the urge to smile. The urge was so strong she found it hard not to burst out laughing. This was the funniest thing she had seen in many years.

She felt a surge of happiness fill her soul, something she hadn’t experienced for a very, very long time. Then she heard her father’s voice of caution: “Be careful, Malinali. Do not make these Aztecs suspicious of you. Be a mystery to them instead.”

Taking a calming breath, she turned back to the emissaries. However she might, she could not resist standing tall – but she avoided assuming any posture or airs of the Queen of Paynala.

“The Tlatoani requests that you introduce yourselves and make your wishes known to him,” she said flatly, and then repeated their response to Aguilar.

“They are messengers from the governor of this place whose name is Tendile and who gets his power from the Great Montezuma, Lord of all Mesheeka. They ask what kind of men you are and why you are here. If you are in need of anything for your men or your vessels, they will supply it.”

Cortez’s answer, which he gave with smiles and flourishes, came back through Aguilar, then Malinali:

“Messengers of Tendile, we are servants of our Great Lord, Don Carlos of our land of Spain on the other side of the Great Ocean. We come to trade in peace with you and tell you many important things. We thank you for your welcome, we in turn welcome you to our ship, and look forward to meeting your governor Tendile.”

As Malinali finished, Cortez called out for cups of wine to be offered to the emissaries. There was considerable bowing and raising of cups in salutation between the Spanish officers and the Aztec messengers, who, after three cups or so seemed quite pleased with everything. Cortez then ordered that transparent blue beads be given to the emissaries, who treated them as objects of great value.

As they happily departed, Malinali was asked to tell them, “Tomorrow, we shall come ashore, and wish to invite your governor Tendile to visit us in our camp.” They all smiled and nodded in approval as they clambered back into their canoes and paddled off.

Aguilar turned to Malinali. “Doña Marina, Captain Cortez and Don Alonso wish to thank you,” she was told. She looked at them briefly and nodded her appreciation. Don Alonso elegantly bowed his head ever so slightly. Cortez met her eyes with a glance as intense as it was quick, then resumed conversing with his officers.

“Aguilar,” she said, “May I ask what are the green and blue stones or beads you can see through?

“They are made of glass,” he said with a shrug.

“What is ‘glass’?” she wanted to know.

“You have no such thing? You have never seen it?” he responded incredulously.

“No – it looks like chalchihuite(chal-chuh-weet)(3), which is very valuable to the Mesheeka. They were very happy because you had given this to them, as they think it is of a kind they had never seen before – a kind one could see through — so they thought it must be very rare.”

“Colored glass beads – rare and valuable?!” Aguilar laughed with astonishment. “I must tell this to the Captain!”

Cortez burst out laughing with Aguilar’s revelation – then suddenly became still. Malinali could almost see his thoughts. This ‘glass,’ evidently of little value to the Spaniards, had suddenly become something important to trade with the Aztecs.

* * * * *

The next day, which the Spaniards called “Good Friday,” Cortez led his men ashore to set up a camp on a set of large sand hills. They built huts and shelters for themselves and also for the horses. Malinali was just getting used to these huge animals and learning not to be so frightened of them. The dogs were another matter.

The only dogs she had ever seen were tiny little hairless dogs which were raised for food to eat. The Spaniards had giant dogs they called “mastiffs,” that growled and barked and had large sharp teeth. Aguilar explained they were war dogs, for hunting and to fight in battle.

There were two other dogs she liked, sleek hunting dogs that ran like the wind, that the Spaniards called “greyhounds.”

A large delegation of Mesheeka arrived the following day led by a chief named Cuitlalpitoc (qweet-lal-pee-tok). They brought turkeys, maize cakes, and plums for the men to eat, and large cloths to cover the shelters from the blazing sun. Through Malinali and Aguilar, Cuitlalpitoc explained that governor Tendile would be arriving tomorrow – whereupon Cortez gifted them with blue glass beads.

The following day an even larger delegation of Mesheeka appeared, led by governor Tendile (ten-deal) himself. When he was brought to Cortez, Aguilar asked of Malinali, “Doña Marina, please tell Lord Tendile that this day is for us a most holy day. It is Easter Sunday(4), the day of resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. We are honored by Lord Tendile’s visit, and invite him to watch our ceremony of Easter Mass.”

A large wooden cross was placed in the sand. All the Spaniards bowed and knelt before it. Wooden tables were brought, and white cloths placed over them. Burning sticks in holders were placed on the table, which Aguilar had told Malinali were called “candles.” The man who had baptized her stepped forward wearing his brown hooded robe. Malinali now knew him as Friar Bartholomew de Olmedo. He chanted in a powerful and beautiful voice a ceremonial song in a language Aguilar called Latin, accompanied by his assistant, Padre Juan Diaz. A bell was rung, and all the men recited a prayer in Latin Aguilar called the Angelus.

Malinali could tell Tendile was both moved and puzzled. She knew what he was thinking: why are these strange men humbling themselves before two pieces of wood – and why does their ceremony consist of chanting and not sacrificing the hearts of human victims to their gods?

After the Mass, Cortez took Tendile and Cuitlalpitoc aside, beckoning for Malinali and Aguilar. There were just the five of them – with Malinali of course the only woman. “I may still be a slave,” she thought, “but I am becoming a very important slave to the Spaniards. How else could they speak to the Aztecs except with me?” She didn’t know which was more satisfying, this or knowing how scandalized the Aztecs were at having to converse with her, a woman.

“Doña Marina,” said Aguilar, “please inform Lord Tendile that Captain Cortez comes here at the request of his King, the great Don Carlos who is the greatest King on earth and has many princes under his command. For many years His Majesty Don Carlos has heard stories of your great country and of Lord Montezuma, and has sent Captain Cortez to tell Lord Montezuma that he, Don Carlos, wishes to be friends and trade in peace. Please tell Lord Tendile that we are Christians, and our King has sent Captain Cortez to meet with Lord Montezuma, so that he can explain to him many things about the One True God, which once Lord Montezuma knows and understands them, will please him greatly.”

Malinali spoke directly at Tendile, and however shocked he was at a woman talking right at him, he was far more startled to hear the request. She recognized the tone of haughty sarcasm in his voice, yet translated his reply unemotionally: “Lord Tendile says you have just arrived in our country and already ask to meet with the Great Montezuma. He will relay your request to him. For now, please accept these gifts in his name.”

A chest was brought forth full of gold ornaments like rings and amulets. Tendile’s men also presented ten loads of beautiful white cotton cloth interwoven with feathers, as well as food for the Spaniards: turkeys, baked fish, and fruit.

Cortez in turn presented Tendile with a number of glass beads, an ornately-carved wooden chair inlaid with blue stones called “lapis lazuli,” and a crimson cap with a gold medallion. Pedro de Alvarado led his horsemen at a gallop across the sand, while the soldiers paraded to music of drums and fifes. Malinali had by now learned that the “lightning-bearers” were not living, but machines called “cannons” or “lombard guns” — but Tendile and his men hadn’t, so when the lombards fired off in deafening explosions, the Mesheeka fell to the ground in fear.

Cortez held up a handful of the gold rings from the chest. He spoke to Aguilar, who said to Doña Marina, “We call this ‘gold’ – what do the Mesheeka call it?”

“They call it teocuitlatl(tee-o-qweet-lottle), which means ‘the excrement of the gods,” she replied, and noticed Aguilar and Cortez exchanging looks of amazed amusement. She was then told to ask Tendile if Lord Montezuma had much more of such holy waste, as it cured an “illness of the heart” possessed by many Spaniards. Tendile answered yes, a great deal more.

Tendile then pointed to one of the Spaniards wearing an old rusty yet gilded helmet. He explained that such a helmet resembled the one of pure teocuitlatl the god Huitzilopochtli (weet-zil-o-poached-lee) wore in the Great Temple of Tenochtitlan (ten-osh-teet-lan), the capital city of the Mesheeka Empire. Would Captain Cortez consider letting Lord Montezuma examine this helmet? Malinali gave him Cortez’s answer: “Yes, it is our pleasure – but we request that it be returned filled with gold powder or dust with which to treat the heart ailment of our men.”

Malinali could tell that neither Tendile nor Cortez were speaking their true minds. There was some hidden complexity regarding gold for both of them, but she was at a loss to know what that could be. Then she overheard Tendile comment to Cuitlalpitoc as they were seriously examining the crimson hat, “This gift to the Great Montezuma is red – the color worn by Quetzacoatl,” and saw Tendile glancing at Cortez with a look of fear and wonder.

Then she understood – at least the Mesheeka. Her father had told her the Aztecs believed in a god named Quetzacoatl, the “Feathered Serpent.” In the remote past, Quetzacoatl (qwet-za-kwattle) had descended from heaven and taken human form as a priest who condemned human sacrifice. This infuriated another god, Tezcatlipoca (tez-cat-lee-po-ka), the “Smoking Mirror,” who defeated Quetzacoatl and forced him to leave. Quetzacoatl sailed away across the East Ocean in a magic raft to an unknown land, and promised to return in a One Reed year.

Malinali felt her legs give way with the shock of her thoughts. With her strongest effort of will, she recovered before she fainted. Aguilar gave her a look of concern but she nodded she was all right. Tendile and his entourage bid their goodbyes, so Malinali could find a place to sit alone and think. She added up her thoughts:

The Aztec calendar was measured in cycles of 52 years, with each year having a name, like “One Reed.” Three “One Reed” years had passed according to the legend since Quetzacoatl had sailed away and he had not come back.(5) This year (6) was the fourth. Captain Cortez had arrived, sailing on a ship so huge it seemed magical, from an unknown land across the East Ocean, in a One Reed year! Moreover, the legend described Quetzacoatl looking very unusual – as having white skin and a black beard, again just like Captain Cortez. And Quetzacoatl, in the pictograms of him her father showed her, always wore a red hat!

Further — what had Captain Cortez preached to the Mesheeka and the Mayans: to abandon human sacrifices to the gods, just as Quetzacoatl! Could it be, she asked herself? The question was so awesome it was pounding and roaring in her brain: Could Captain Cortez be the human form of the god Quetzacoatl, returned as he promised to destroy the Aztecs for the sin of human sacrifice?

NOTES:

1. 1517.
2. The day before Good Friday. In 1519, this was April 20. Cortez departed Pontochan on Palm Sunday, April 16.
3. Jade.
4. April 23, 1519.
5. 1363, 1415, 1467.
6. 1519.