Unholy Crusade Read online

  There had been a very good reason for that. The Aztecs had appeared out of the north only two centuries earlier. Previous to that the Mayas and numerous other races who occupied different parts of the country had, from as early as 2000 B.C., built up spendid civilisations. They had achieved a high art: their engineers had constructed immense buildings and suspension bridges across the gorges in the mountains; their astronomers had produced a calendar that was more accurate than that then in use in Europe.

  The Aztecs, on the other hand, had been fierce barbarians of an almost unbelievable cruelty. Having driven the inhabitants from the Central Plateau, they had established themselves on the island of Tenochtitlán then, from that fortress, sallied forth to conquer the whole of Mexico and turn its peoples into subject races. They waged war constantly, not alone for plunder but mainly to secure hordes of sacrificial victims with which to propitiate their blood-lusting god Huitzilopochtli. So it was no wonder that Cortés had found allies on all sides willing to aid him in destroying their Aztec overlords, and it was to his leadership that they owed their escape from this terrible tyranny.

  The Conquest, on the other hand, brought many benefits to Mexico. Before that the diet available to the Indians was extraordinarily monotonous. Even the nobles had lived almost entirely on maize cakes, fruit and a little fish. Wheat, rice, barley, lentils, onions and potatoes were unknown, the latter having been brought from South America. They had no cattle, pigs or goats; so had no milk, butter or cheese, no grease with which to fry and, only occasionally, the meat of birds and small animals. They had no carts, horses or beasts of burden; so the only transport for articles of commerce consisted of porters trained to the exhausting work of bearing on their backs for many hours a day sacks weighing up to a hundred pounds suspended from bands across their foreheads. They were excellent weavers and dyers, but had not invented the button; so their main garment was a square piece of material with a hole in the middle through which they put their heads and, as it could not be done up, it dangled awkwardly about them, exposing their lower limbs to the cold. They had neither windmills nor watermills with which to grind their maize, so had to pound it laboriously in mortars. They had no iron or steel, so had patiently to chip pieces of obsidian to produce a sharp edge for all cutting implements and weapons. For tilling the earth they had no ploughs, so to sow their crops they had to use a stout pointed stick and make thousands of holes into each of which a single seed was dropped.

  Through disease and, at times, brutality, the Indians had certainly endured much suffering under their conquerors; but the belief that their Spanish masters had used them worse than had the British, French or Dutch the peoples of the countries they had colonised Adam knew to be untrue; and he thought it regrettable that, since the Mexicans had gained independence, their politicians should have indoctrinated them with their hatred of the Spaniards, to whom their country owed so much.

  When he had done the museum, with its State coaches, cannon and mementoes of Maximilian’s brief reign, his guide took him out on to the terrace of the Palace. Beneath, the wooded slope fell steeply, and above the tree-tops there was a fine view of the scores of lofty modern blocks that dotted the city. From among the trees in the near foreground there arose six smooth stone columns, about forty feet high with rounded tops.

  His guide told him that at the time of the war between Mexico and the United States, which took place in 1846–8, the Castle had been a Military Academy. When the victorious American troops entered Mexico City they had demanded that the Mexican cadets should haul down their country’s flag. The cadets had refused, and six gallant youngsters had defended the Castle to the end, dying there rather than surrender. The war had been lost. It cost Mexico her vast northern territories. The United States established her claim to Texas and acquired California, in which gold was soon afterwards discovered; but nothing could ever rob Mexicans of their pride in the six heroic boys whose monument was these six tall stone columns.

  Returning to the city, Adam again walked round the best shopping area, looking for a place to lunch, and, from the dozen or more restaurants, decided on the Chalet Suisse. He made an excellent meal off a dish of huge Pacific prawns, a Cassata ice and a carafe of the local wine.

  Adam hated sleeping in the afternoon, as if he did he always woke up with a headache; but, in accordance with ancient Spanish custom, everything was shut during the siesta hours; so he spent them reading on his bed, then again took a taxi out to the Park, this time to the new Museum of Anthropology.

  It proved another revelation to him of the wealth and enterprise of modern Mexico.

  On three sides of the main hall there were spacious rooms with many exhibits of the numerous cultures of ancient Mexico, the earliest dating from a time when Hammurabi was ruling in Babylon: Otomic, Tepexpan, Huastec, Olmec, Maya, Chichimec, Toltec, Totonac, Mixtec, Tarascan, Zapotec and Aztec. All had individuality—there were the huge stone negroid heads of the Olmecs, crowned with helmets such as modern motor-cyclists wear; colossal columns representing Toltec warriors; slabs from temples carved by the Zapotecs with intricate geometrical designs; gold Mixtec necklaces of most delicate workmanship; images of Maya priests with flattened foreheads, great, curved noses and elaborate head-dresses; delightfully amusing Tarascan pottery figures; and big, wheel-like stones on which were carved the symbols of the Aztec calendar, the earlier cultures having contributed to the later ones. There were also papier-mâché models of ancient cities and, set in the walls, hundreds of coloured photographs lit from behind, showing archaeological sites.

  Above these salons there was another range of rooms, demonstrating the life led in the Indian villages of the various nations. These contained figures of men, women and children, weaving, hunting, cooking, fishing, in open-sided huts and under groups of palm trees. There were arrays of bows and arrows, cases of coins and pigments, beautiful feather headdresses and cloaks of many colours. Then, in a basement building, entered from one side of the ground floor, there was an exact replica of the famous tomb at Palenque, with the skeleton of the High Priest lying in it and, in a separate case, the fabulous jade death-mask that had lain on his dead face for many hundreds of years.

  Adam was enthralled. He spent four hours in the museum and could happily have remained there for several days. The Aztec exhibits meant little to him, but he recognised a number of items from the older cultures and found himself specially familiar with those of the Toltecs who had arisen about A.D. 200 and flourished until late in the tenth century. The latter was the period in Europe with which he was most familiar and he definitely made up his mind that he would set his novel in the Mexico of those days.

  Before he left England, friends had warned Adam that the height of Mexico City might affect him, so he should be careful not to exert himself too much. But so far he had felt no ill-effects from the rarified air at seven thousand five hundred feet; so, as it was a nice evening, he decided to walk back to his hotel.

  At intervals along the Paseo de la Reforma there are junctions each with a roundabout at which other streets enter it, several of them being the site of lofty statues. There is one to Columbus, another to Carlos IV—retained only because the Mexicans have an affection for El Caballito, his beautifully-modelled little horse—and a third to their national hero, the Emperor Cuauhtémoc. The westernmost of these great open spaces is at the entrance to the Park and has in its centre the Diana Cazadora Fountain. For strangers not yet familiar with Mexican traffic signals, these roundabouts are difficult to cross.

  When stepping off the pavement towards the Fountain, Adam failed to look behind him, and a stream of traffic had just been released from that direction. The Mexicans are habitually fast drivers and, at the signal, three cars abreast shot forward. Too late, Adam realised his danger. The car heading for him had no room to swerve. He jumped towards the pavement, but the near mudguard of the car caught him on the thigh, bowling him over so that his head hit the kerb. Stars whirled before his eyes and next moment he w
as in another world.

  3

  The Man-God

  Adam was still in Mexico City, but it was an utterly different place from that in which his big body lay limp and unconscious on the pavement. The street he was in was narrow, most of the houses in it were not more than two storeys high. There were no cars, lorries, carts or even donkeys, but many people. They were bronze-skinned, had intensely black hair and eyes and were thickset but considerably shorter than Europeans, averaging only about five foot three inches in height. The men wore their hair pinned high on their heads and decorated with little mirrors; the women wore it in thick, plaited pigtails. All had on blanket-like garments, with geometrical designs of many colours. The better-dressed men had theirs suspended by a tie from two corners across the front of the throat so that they hung draped over the shoulders and backs; those of the others, and all the women’s, simply had a hole in the middle through which their heads were thrust.

  Suddenly, as Adam walked down the street, he became aware of three things: he was a head and shoulders taller than anyone within sight; he was playing a flute; and the people regarded him with reverence, but without fear. As he approached, they all drew aside, backed against the walls, smiled at him, then bowed deeply and gravely. As he advanced, a litter carried by four bearers came towards him. The bearers promptly set it down. A young woman with a golden ornament entwined in her hair, gold bangles on her wrists and dressed in garments of such fine-spun cotton that they were almost diaphanous, stepped out and genuflected as he passed.

  He, too, was dressed in a cotton cloak of the finest weave and below it wore, like the other men, only a breech-clout. But the sun was shining, the air balmy and he felt extraordinarily well. Instinctively he wound his way through several streets and crossed a number of small bridges over narrow canals which had gaily painted canoes passing up and down them. Ten minutes after he had come to his senses—in what he knew to be the city on the island in the lake that later was to become the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlán—he arrived outside a taller, much more imposing building. It was his own Palace. Still playing his flute, he entered it.

  A porter salaamed to him deferentially as he walked into the lofty, pillared hall, the walls of which were covered with brightly-coloured murals. Without hesitation he went through a doorway that led on to a terrace. It was gay with pots of many exotic flowers and looked out on to the lake beyond which, in the far distance, its top shrouded in cloud, he could see the lofty volcano Popocatepetl.

  Halfway along the terrace there was a pile of many-coloured cushions from which one could look out across the lake. Putting down his flute, he rang a silver hand bell. Within a minute a group of servants appeared: a man to supervise his service and half a dozen young women each carrying a tray. On a low table in front of him they set down an array of small silver bowls, a goblet, a flagon and a finely-woven napkin. One knelt beside him, holding a large, shallow silver salver that held scented water, with three hibiscus blossoms floating on the surface.

  After dipping his fingers in it he began to eat, picking pieces from the little silver bowls. Several of them contained thin pancakes of maize rolled up with beans, chilies and other vegetables as a stuffing. Others held pieces of fish, a gamey meat that he could not identify, or slices of tropical fruit. The flagon held a delicious concoction of iced fruit juices which tasted like nectar on this sunny day.

  He was vaguely aware that for many months past all his meals had contained a small quantity of some drug, and that it was this which caused his memory to be so hazy. But it did him no physical harm, so he had long since come to accept it.

  While he ate, he looked across the lake to the vista of mountains in the distance. Only the tops of the tallest were obscured by cloud, the others standing out clear against a bright blue sky. Upon the lake there were many canoes and some slightly larger craft with sails. In the foreground, apart from a channel kept free from the Palace steps, the surface of the lake was hidden by vegetation. The land beyond the valley was, he knew, so barren that nothing would grow upon it; so to help feed their people the rulers had devised the idea of floating market gardens. Occupying a large part of the lake there were hundreds of reed rafts, about twelve feet by eight, and a variety of crops were growing on them.

  Soon after he had finished his meal, his steward appeared and announced that the High Priest, Itzechuatl, had arrived and requested audience. He told the man that he was agreeable to receiving the High Priest and a few minutes later the steward led a small procession out on to the terrace.

  It was headed by Itzechuatl, a formidable figure dressed in ceremonial robes, a huge feather head-dress that spread out like the fan of a peacock’s tail, and with his face so heavily painted that it was difficult to make out his features. Yet at the sight of him Adam was filled with sudden fear and revulsion—black thoughts of a dungeon in the depths of a pyramid and friends sacrificed to evil gods. But the details of the past eluded him. Behind the High Priest sixteen brilliantly-costumed bearers carried four litters which they set down in a semi-circle in front of Adam.

  The High Priest made a formal bow, then said, ‘Exalted One, I bring you your four brides. I hope that they will please you.’

  At a signal from him the bearers of the litters drew aside their curtains. Out of them stepped four young women. Under transparent veils they were nude, except for belts, breast ornaments and necklaces of gold set with precious stones. Their hair was elaborately coiffeured and set with ornaments glittering with jewels. From their ears, supported by short, very thin gold chains, dangled clusters of gems that made a faint, tinkling music as they moved. All four had superb figures but in different degrees of maturity.

  One was a child of perhaps thirteen, with a boyish body and small, firm breasts; another, who may have been eighteen, was slim, straight-backed, svelte, with a suggestion of strength in her slender limbs; the third, a few years older, was voluptuousness personified, with hips and thighs the shape of an inverted pear, a narrow waist and breasts like the halves of small melons; the fourth was much taller than the other three. She had very broad shoulders from which rose a lovely neck and throat, her body was a poem of grace, with, where it narrowed, an intriguing horizontal crease between her breasts and stomach; her arms and legs were long and beautifully modelled, her wrists and ankles slender.

  Their faces were all beautiful, but again as different from one another as their bodies. The hair and eyes of all of them were black and their skins a pale, reddish brown, but their features suggested different races. The youngest had the narrowed, oriental eyes of a Chichimec, the second the slightly flattened nose of a Zapotec, the third had a rounded face, matching her curves, which proclaimed her to be a Maya. The fourth he could not place. She had a fine, broad forehead, magnificent eyes beneath eyebrows that turned up at their outer ends, a straight delicate nose, rather full cheeks and a generous mouth. Adam’s interest was entirely concentrated on her. He thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Again his memory stirred. He had seen her before, during a great procession. She had been one of scores of lovely girls who had scattered flowers before him as he advanced along the Sacred Way of his old capital, and he had felt a passionate desire for her.

  The High Priest remarked casually, ‘They have been chosen for you to suit any man’s taste. The two older have been carefully trained and are highly proficient in all the arts of love. The two younger ones are still virgins.’

  Adam stood a head and shoulders above all the men on the terrace, with the exception of the lean High Priest, who was exceptionally tall for an Indian. Next to him in height was the eldest girl and it was upon her that Adam’s gaze was riveted. Physically she was the only one who, as a female, could come near matching his stature. But that was a minor point; her body, with the crease above her narrow waist, was perfection, her eyes held all the knowledge of the centuries, yet there was still something almost childishly youthful about her face that gave it an innocent, happy look. Making a slight g
esture towards her, he asked:

  ‘What are you called?’

  Her wide mouth opened in a smile, showing glorious teeth, and she replied, ‘Mirolitlit, may it please my Lord.’

  Under its heavy layers of paint Itzechuatl’s lean face also creased into a smile and he said, ‘I see that the Exalted One has already chosen his favourite wife; but in twenty days he will have ample time also to take his pleasure with his other brides.’

  Adam frowned. ‘Twenty days? I do not understand. Why only twenty days?’

  The High Priest gave a slight shrug and raised his painted eyebrows:

  ‘The Exalted One’s memory betrays him. It seems I must refresh it. His year as a Man-God ends in twenty days. Then, like all Men-Gods, he must die for the good of his people.’

  On finding himself in the streets of this familiar city, Adam had immediately accepted his present state without wondering how he came to be there. Now his memory suddenly functioned. He was a Toltec, captured by the Chichimecs, a warrior nation which had recently emerged from the north, defeated his own people and dispossessed them of their cities. Itzechuatl was the Priest-King who had imprisoned him and coerced him into agreeing to represent the God-upon-Earth who was chosen annually, then, at the end of his term, sacrificed. And it was at the ceremony of his ‘Acceptance’ that he had seen Mirolitlit.

  For over eleven months he had lived in luxury, with every wish he had expressed instantly obeyed, except that he had not been allowed to indulge himself abnormally in food or drink lest the ‘person of the God’ should physically deteriorate. He had also been denied women, so that he should not lessen his virility through excess. But for his last twenty days of life it was customary that the Man-God should be given as his brides four of the most beautiful girls that could be found in the city.