I drew them and passed through.
There, far up the room, the faint light gleaming on her snowy dress, her raven hair and ornaments of gold, stood Otomie my bride.
I went towards her, and as I came she glided to meet me with outstretched arms.
Presently they were about my neck and her kiss was on my brow.
‘Now all is done, my love and lord,’ she whispered, ‘and come good or ill, or both, we are one till death, for such vows as ours cannot be broken.’
‘All is done indeed, Otomie, and our oaths are lifelong, though other oaths have been broken that they might be sworn,’ I answered.
Thus then I, Thomas Wingfield, was wed to Otomie, princess of the Otomie, Montezuma’s daughter.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE NIGHT OF FEAR
Long before I awoke that day the commands of the council had been carried out, and the bridges in the great causeways were broken down wherever dykes crossed the raised roads that ran through the waters of the lake.
That afternoon also I went dressed as an Indian warrior with Guatemoc and the other generals, to a parley which was held with Cortes, who took his stand on the same tower of the palace that Montezuma had stood on when the arrow of Guatemoc struck him down.
There is little to be said of this parley, and I remember it chiefly because it was then for the first time since I had left the Tobascans that I saw Marina close, and heard her sweet and gentle voice.
For now as ever she was by the side of Cortes, translating his proposals of peace to the Aztecs.
Among those proposals was one which showed me that de Garcia had not been idle.
It asked that the false white man who had been rescued from the altars of the gods upon the teocalli should be given in exchange for certain Aztec prisoners, in order that he might be hung according to his merits as a spy and deserter, a traitor to the emperor of Spain.
I wondered as I heard, if Marina knew when she spoke the words, that ‘the false white man’ was none other than the friend of her Tobascan days.
‘You see that you are fortunate in having found place among us Aztecs, Teule,’ said Guatemoc with a laugh, ‘for your own people would greet you with a rope.’
Then he answered Cortes, saying nothing of me, but bidding him and all the Spaniards prepare for death:
‘Many of us have perished,’ he said; ‘you also must perish, Teules.
You shall perish of hunger and thirst, you shall perish on the altars of the gods.
There is no escape for you Teules; the bridges are broken.’
And all the multitude took up the words and thundered out,
‘There is no escape for you Teules; the bridges are broken!’
Then the shooting of arrows began, and I sought the palace to tell Otomie my wife what I had gathered of the state of her father Montezuma, who the Spaniards said still lay dying, and of her two sisters who were hostages in their quarters.
Also I told her how my surrender had been sought, and she kissed me, and said smiling, that though my life was now burdened with her, still it was better so than that I should fall into the hands of the Spaniards.
Two days later came the news that Montezuma was dead, and shortly after it his body, which the Spaniards handed over to the Aztecs for burial, attired in the gorgeous robes of royalty.
They laid it in the hall of the palace, whence it was hurried secretly and at night to Chapoltepec, and there hidden away with small ceremony, for it was feared that the people might rend it limb from limb in their rage.
With Otomie weeping at my side, I looked for the last time on the face of that most unhappy king, whose reign so glorious in its beginning had ended thus.
And while I looked I wondered what suffering could have equalled his, as fallen from his estate and hated by the subjects whom he had betrayed, he lay dying, a prisoner in the power of the foreign wolves who were tearing out his country’s heart.
It is little wonder indeed that Montezuma rent the bandages from his wounds and would not suffer them to tend his hurts.
For the real hurt was in his soul; there the iron had entered deeply, and no leech could cure it except one called Death.
And yet the fault was not all his, the devils whom he worshipped as gods were revenged upon him, for they had filled him with the superstitions of their wicked faith, and because of these the gods and their high priest must sink into a common ruin.
Were it not for these unsubstantial terrors that haunted him, the Spaniards had never won a foothold in Tenoctitlan, and the Aztecs would have remained free for many a year to come.
But Providence willed it otherwise, and this dead and disgraced monarch was but its instrument.
Such were the thoughts that passed through my mind as I gazed upon the body of the great Montezuma. But Otomie, ceasing from her tears, kissed his clay and cried aloud:
‘O my father, it is well that you are dead, for none who loved you could desire to see you live on in shame and servitude.
May the gods you worshipped give me strength to avenge you, or if they be no gods, then may I find it in myself.
I swear this, my father, that while a man is left to me I will not cease from seeking to avenge you.’
Then taking my hand, without another word she turned and passed thence.
As will be seen, she kept her oath.
On that day and on the morrow there was fighting with the Spaniards, who sallied out to fill up the gaps in the dykes of the causeway, a task in which they succeeded, though with some loss. But it availed them nothing, for so soon as their backs were turned we opened the dykes again.
It was on these days that for the first time I had experience of war, and armed with my bow made after the English pattern, I did good service. As it chanced, the very first arrow that I drew was on my hated foe de Garcia, but here my common fortune pursued me, for being out of practice, or over-anxious, I aimed too high, though the mark was an easy one, and the shaft pierced the iron of his casque, causing him to reel in his saddle, but doing him no further hurt.
Still this marksmanship, poor as it was, gained me great renown among the Aztecs, who were but feeble archers, for they had never before seen an arrow pierce through the Spanish mail.
Nor would mine have done so had I not collected the iron barbs off the crossbow bolts of the Spaniards, and fitted them to my own shafts.
I seldom found the mail that would withstand arrows made thus, when the range was short and the aim good.
After the first day’s fight I was appointed general over a body of three thousand archers, and was given a banner to be borne before me and a gorgeous captain’s dress to wear.
But what pleased me better was a chain shirt which came from the body of a Spanish cavalier.
For many years I always wore this shirt beneath my cotton mail, and it saved my life more than once, for even bullets would not pierce the two of them.
I had taken over the command of my archers but forty-eight hours, a scant time in which to teach them discipline whereof they had little, though they were brave enough, when the occasion came to use them in good earnest, and with it the night of disaster that is still known among the Spaniards as the noche triste.
On the afternoon before that night a council was held in the palace at which I spoke, saying, I was certain that the Teules thought of retreat from the city, and in the dark, for otherwise they would not have been so eager to fill up the canals in the causeway.