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.There was an ominous emphasis in his voice, and it made me quail inwardly.I couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t bear to face something unexpected or revelatory now.Only six hours before I had made a commitment that was going to change my life dramatically.Very cautiously I asked, ‘Is it about Extepan?’‘Not exactly.’‘Then it will have to wait.’‘You need to hear this.’I rounded on him.‘Bevan, I’m exhausted! Write it down for me if it’s so important.Leave me a note! All I want now is a hot bath and an early night.’He, stood motionless, staring at me as if I were mad, as if he could not credit my stupidity.Then he shrugged.‘Have it your way.’He went off to his apartment without another word.I sat in the bath for an hour or so, feeling guilty, knowing that my acceptance of Extepan’s proposal was my final surrender.I tried to pretend that I had sound strategic reasons for doing so: with Chimalcoyotl and Ixtlilpopoca dead, Extepan was now Motecuhzoma’s eldest son, with a good chance of succeeding his father when he died.Wouldn’t marriage to him put me in a position where I would be able to undermine the Aztec cause far more effectively in future? What better hiding place for an enemy than in the very heart of their empire?But I knew this was a spurious rationalization.When Extepan had asked me to marry him, all that had been in my mind at that instant was his face, his eyes, his hands holding mine, the frisson of finally surrendering to the forbidden.Only Richard was likely to be pleased; it would be impossible to explain to anyone at home without feeling like a traitor.Extepan led me through into the council chamber.It was a large room of carved cedar pillars and terracotta walls, hung with portraits in gilt frames of Aztec rulers and military leaders.Sunlight lanced in through crystalline louvres set in the sloping ceiling, throwing bands of light on the big oval mahogany table at its centre.All the high-backed chairs around the table were empty.Only Motecuhzoma sat in his white icpalli at the head of the table, with Tetzahuitl standing at his shoulder.Motecuhzoma was dressed as informally as when I had previously met him, though Tetzahuitl wore a dark green cloak with a border of wind jewels.His headdress was a coronet of scarlet macaw feathers.I was led forward, and Extepan and I bowed as one before the tlatoani and the cihuacoatl.‘What is your petition?’ Motecuhzoma said.‘Yesterday I made Princess Catherine a proposal of marriage,’ Extepan replied formally.‘I am honoured to say she has accepted.We ask your blessing and approval for the union.’There seemed to be a long silence.I fought the urge to look up.‘It is granted.Rise.’We straightened.Tetzahuitl took my left hand and put it into Extepan’s right.He pressed our fingers together, his palm as dry as paper against the back of my hand.Motecuhzoma was gazing straight at me, a half-smile on his face.Then he looked serious.‘I trust you freely agreed to my son’s proposal?’It seemed an odd thing to say, having already given his blessing.I nodded.‘I would not be here otherwise.’‘Then I’m greatly pleased for you both.Do you have gifts to exchange?’‘We do,’ Extepan said.He had already prepared me for this, a standard ritual of betrothal.I had chosen an amber ring which I had originally bought in Tlatelolco as a keepsake.Extepan gave me a bead necklace of obsidian and jade.The presents were meant to be simple, symbolizing a promise and the potential fruitfulness of marriage.I wondered what Motecuhzoma and the ever-impassive Tetzahuitl were thinking.Only the four of us were apparently to know about the betrothal, for the time being at least.I was happy with this; it gave me more room for manoeuvre should I change my mind.Once all the formalities were complete, Motecuhzoma asked Extepan and Tetzahuitl to leave so that he could talk briefly to me alone.‘In our lives there are always choices to be made,’ he remarked to me when they were gone.‘And these choices assume a greater significance when one sits close to the centre of power.’He steered his chair around the table, coming closer to me.‘Did Extepan tell you I’ve nominated him as my successor?’I was surprised both by the fact and its admission.‘I asked him not to, of course.But I didn’t demand it of him.’‘He didn’t mention it, I promise you.’He was now so close I could smell the odour which clung to him – a sweet, medicinal odour, the odour of invalidity and age.It seemed strange to me at that moment that he should be reduced to this, a wizened figure wrapped in woollen blankets, a man who bestrode the world yet could scarcely rise from his chair.‘It matters neither way,’ he went on.‘In any case, the succession isn’t guaranteed.When the time comes, it will be Tetzahuitl and the tlatocan who will decide the issue.I will just be a ghost, a memory.’‘Assuming Tetzahuitl outlives you,’ I remarked.‘Ah, yes,’ he said, almost lightly.‘Assuming that.’‘Does Extepan have many serious rivals?’‘There are always rivals when a succession isn’t guaranteed by strict rules of descent.Maxixca, of course.’ He mentioned several other names, cousins of Extepan, prominent members of the tlatocan, even one of his sons by an auianime who had married a Hispaniolan princess.‘If he outlives you,’ I said, ‘then perhaps Tetzahuitl will set a precedent by becoming tlatoani.’Motecuhzoma smiled at this.No cihuacoatl in the past had ever ascended to the Turquoise Throne, both positions of power operating as separate but parallel dynasties which had worked together with remarkable cohesion for hundreds of years.But with Tetzahuitl being the last of his line, he might be tempted to seize the opportunity to become sovereign.‘I think not,’ Motecuhzoma said.‘We’re both old men now
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Tematy
IndexChristine Amsden [Cassie Scot Cassie Scot ParaNormal Detecti
Christie Craig [Divorced, Des Divorced, Desperate
Moore Christopher Ssij, mała, ssij (II)
Stasheff, Christopher Wizard in Rhyme 6 Haunted Wizard
Christine Feehan Mroczna Seri Mroczny Demon
Cidney Swanson [Saving Mars Saving Mars (epub)
Stasheff, Christopher Rogue Wizard 04 A Wizard in Peace
Feehan Christine Mroczna Seria 01 Mroczny Ksišże
Stasheff, Christopher Warlock 01 The Warlock in Spite of Himself
Christine Feehan Mroczna Seria 13 Mroczne Przeznaczenie