Chapter Three: SLAVE

Chapter Three: SLAVE

After Teteotcingo’s funeral, Queen Cimatl asked to see her daughter. “Malinali, there is something you must know,” the Queen said. “A kingdom requires a king – and now Paynala no longer has one. So I have decided to marry the brother of my sister’s husband, Cohuixin. I must, you realize, always put the interests of Paynala and its people first.”

Malinali was so stunned she lost her composure and blurted, “The Lizard-Man? You are going to marry the Lizard-Man!? (Cohuixin meant “lizard” – obviously Malinali was not very fond of him.) Mother – how can you insult our people, insult me – insult yourself! – and insult the memory of King Teteotcingo this way?”

Queen Cimatl insouciantly responded. “It will soon be King Cohuixin – and he will be your king, and your father. The decision is done.”

Malinali exploded. “You are only fooling yourself, Mother, if you think I will ever regard the Lizard-Man as my King – much less my Father!” Suddenly, though, the young Princess saw the image of her father in her mind, and thought, “My father would not lose his temper in such a situation – calm down and think clearly, Malinali – right now!”

She took a deep breath and spoke before her mother could chastise her. “Yet very well, Mother. If this is your decision, I accept it. Tell the Lizard-Man to enjoy a few years of ruling Paynala. For, as you know, I am the legitimate heir to the throne – the only heir – and when I become of age just six winters from now, I become Queen, and you and your Lizard-Man may enjoy a happy retirement without the cares of ruling. But in the meantime, my only request is that you keep the Lizard-Man away from me – I want nothing to do with him.”

Her mother said nothing and stared emptily at her. Finally, she said, “As you wish… Ixkakuk…” and glided out of the room. Queen Cimatl had never called her by her father’s nickname ever before, and she pronounced it without affection but with a prolonged icy sneer. Malinali felt as if her marrow was frozen.

* * * * *

Malinali spent as much time out of the palace as she could from then on, hunting deer with her spear in the forest or gathering herbs and medicinal plants for her grandmother. What time she did spend in the palace was with Ciuacoatl, who consoled her grief and taught her all she knew about the healing arts.

One day, she returned from the forest to hear the noise of a celebration in the village adjoining the palace. Walking through the streets – disguised as always by a plain cotton cloak – she heard people shouting, “A son! A son! A Royal Prince! A son!” She knew her mother had been pregnant, but never much thought about it just as she never thought much about her mother at all. “So,” she thought, “I have a brother! It’s not his fault who his parents are. It might be fun – I should try to be a good sister to him…”

With these thoughts, she expectantly returned to the palace. Near the gate she noticed a group of nomadic traders. Nothing unusual about that – these kind of folks were a common sight, wandering around from town to town selling their trinkets and handicrafts. When they accosted her to regard their wares, she politely brushed them away as she normally did. One of them, however, a short stocky fellow with enormous forearms, stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to buy something… Princess?”

She tried to pull away but the man was far too strong. “How do you know who I…?” her words were cut short as the man and his followers threw a heavy blanket over her and carried her away. No one noticed in the twilight, her muffled protestations unheard. She was carried for a long time, then set down by a campfire and bound tightly. She said nothing, but instead inspected her captors one by one to settle on the leader, the man with the bulging forearms.

Her silent stare made the man uneasy. “Yes,” he said, “there is no doubt. You are your father’s daughter, you are Princess Malinali. Unfortunately, you are also your mother’s daughter, which means you are a princess no longer.”

“What am I then?” Malinali asked.

“Your mother intends for her new son to be king. You were in the way. So… she sold you to us.”

“Sold me??” Her eyes flared. “What do you mean sold me… I am Princess Malinali, the future Queen of Paynala, and you will release me right now!”

The man shrugged. “You are not even alive, much less a princess.”

Malinali let out a short gasp. “What do you mean, ‘not alive’? I may be tied up but I’m not dead yet.”

Forearms wagged a finger at her. “Oh, yes, you are. By chance, the daughter of one of the workers in the palace died yesterday from some fever. She was just about your age. Tomorrow, your death will be announced, there will be a great grieving and burial ceremony – and while it will be the girl’s body that will be buried, not yours, you will be officially dead.”

For the first time in her life, Malinali felt real fear. She felt like she was going to throw up. She stared blankly into the flames of the fire.

She looked up at Forearms. The firelight played across his wide face. He was looking at her with an expression that almost seemed like sympathy. She looked around at the others, sitting in a circle with the firelight dancing over them.

“We are not bad people, you should know that,” said Forearms quietly. “We are not going to harm you. Your mother paid us a lot of money to take you, and you are now our tlacotli — our slave. We own you and you must do as we tell you. Your mother did what she thought she had to do. But she made us promise that we would not mistreat you or share you among the men – and we will keep this promise.”

The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, and the word tlacotli – tlacotli – tlacotli reverberating with a pounding force inside Malinali’s brain. She passed into unconsciousness.

* * * * *

“Malina! Malina! Wake up! There is work to do!” Malinali felt her being rudely shaken. It was Forearm’s wife and Malinali looked up at her uncomprehendingly. She did notice that she was unbound and someone had put a blanket over her. The fire was in embers and dawn was breaking.

“We cannot call you Malinali. It would draw attention,” the woman explained. “So we decided your name is now Malina. Come, we need to get water for cooking, and quickly. We need to be off before the sun is over the treetops.”

Following the woman to the stream, she asked, “Where are we going?”

The woman pointed to the right of the rising sun. “To Xicalanco – that is where we are from.”

“Xicalanco? Isn’t that in Yucatec (Land of the Mayas)?”

The woman cast a wary glance over her shoulder at Malinali. “Yes – how do you know this?”

“My father taught me much about the world,” came the reply. Malinali sighed. “Xicalanco – it is so far away from Cuatzacualco…”

The woman stopped and spun around. “Malina! Don’t you understand? You are dead there! If you ran away and went back to Paynala, you would be killed. Your home is now with us, for you have no other.”

Malinali realized she was right – and that she had better start thinking clearly. They came to the stream and filled their tightly-woven baskets. “Your accent – is that Yucatec?” she asked.

“Yes, we are Maya. But as traders and travelers, it is important for us to speak Nahuatl as well.”

“Could you teach me to speak Maya?”

Again, the woman eyed her up and down. “Yes, I will. My husband will approve. It will bring a higher price for you when we sell you in Pontochan – that’s on the way to Xicalanco.”

“I know where Pontochan is,” Malinali hissed. “I thought you said my home is with you.”

“Only until we sell you. My husband is sure the King of Pontochan will pay a good price for you. From now on, Malina, your home is that of whoever owns you.”

They walked back to the camp in silence.

On July 29, 2005, we initiated the serialization of a novel I am writing entitled The Jade Steps.

The Jade Steps has a two-fold purpose. The first is to tell Malinali’s story, as fascinating as it is unknown. The second is to bring peace to the civil war raging in the soul of Mexico. I hope you all enjoy it. — JW