An Aztec’s Tale

Set in the New World in 1521, An Aztec’s Tale is a two-part story I am posting here in August 2021, to mark 500 years since the Battle of Tenochtitlán (22^nd May – 13^th August 1521). It starts with “Onward” and will be followed by “A Turning Point” later this month. I have tried to weave a credible tale around the actual history of the Aztec Empire in the early 16^th century and hope the whole saga has a ring of authenticity. Although I researched names for people and checked the spellings of places, I shall leave you to interpret the pronunciations yourself! Thank you for reading both chapters. August 2021 is Aztec Month for Chasqui’s Writing World!

This is a fictional story based on historical facts and any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence.

The audio version is on Anchor: https://anchor.fm/dashboard/episode/e1k5adc

AN AZTEC’S TALE

Part 1: Onward

In times of trouble we can’t go back to safer days, so the only option is onward with hope. I took that route in an unprecedented era in our history, and here is my story.

After a short time, conflict seemed inevitable, in effect a war against these people, these invaders from a land called Spain. To think that when they sailed their ships to our shores, some of us were convinced they were gods, so unlike us were they in appearance. Their leader Cortez, with his fair skin and black clothing, looked awe-inspiring, as did most of his followers. We gave them gifts which they readily accepted, though they seemed all too eager to see the gold we have. Was it a coincidence or did these people from across the sea have inside knowledge? Had they travelled over the ocean just for the gold? We revere many gods, especially Quetzalcoatl, and offer them gifts in the form of human sacrifice. Although Quetzalcoatl disapproves of this, our civilisation revolves around it because our priests tell us sacrificing humans to the gods is necessary for the survival of our race the Mexica, or Aztecs. Cortez also thinks like Quetzalcoatl in this respect and has strongly condemned human sacrifice – no wonder we believed this stranger to be a god, perhaps Quetzalcoatl himself, till it was too late. Before long, battles raged between Aztecs and the small band of Spanish warriors. Our emperor Moctezuma was killed and succeeded by Cuauhtémoc but even he was powerless to stop the fighting and all the killing.

I lived with my wife Atzi, our three children and my parents on the island of Tenochtitlán, the capital of the Aztec Empire. We had enjoyed a happy life there and I worked and earned a good wage as one of the royal jewellers. Moctezuma often commissioned me to design and make a variety of golden adornments, encrusted with precious and semi-precious stones, for him and his family. I was also allowed to work as a freelancer, with my wife selling my creations at the great market in Tlatelolco, but now I fear many of our beautiful possessions are in the hands of Cortez and his men, stolen from our people.

We predicted our island would be attacked one day, but it came all too soon. Because I knew many people at the royal court, I was kept updated and made plans to get my family off Tenochtitlán to safety as events unfolded. They weren’t keen at first, unhappy to be separated from me as I would have to stay and fight. However, I finally persuaded them, and with two of Cuauhtémoc’s soldiers we set out over the causeway to Tepeyac, heading for my brother’s home in the countryside village of Ecatepec far away from the city, onward into obscurity. There were many tears when I had to leave them there, but I knew they would be safe – my brother Huitzilin and his wife Zyanya are good people and promised to look after my loved ones while I was away. When I returned with the soldiers to the island we had just a short time to prepare to defend ourselves before the Battle of Tenochtitlán got underway. I have never felt so scared. The Spanish were riding strange animals they called caballos (horses) and shooting us with machines called cannons and guns. The noise was so loud I was almost deafened. As I looked around, I could hardly believe the devastation, and the many Mexica lives lost. I am still mourning the untimely passing of so many friends.

The fighting had already lasted over two months when I was detailed to join a military company of my fellow citizens. We had to make our way across the causeway to Chapultepec and protect the aqueduct, our city’s only source of fresh water flowing down from the hills. Though successful at first, we were then attacked and forced to flee into the hills. A few of us were ambushed on the way and had to run or be killed. I outran a soldier who was chasing me, the bullets from his gun missing me each time he fired. Luck was on my side that day! I finally decided to rest and hid in a cave on the hillside. I felt alone – I could hear no sound of the pursuing enemy, so gained some breathing space, but also no sound of my friends from the aqueduct. I could only hope they were all right; I didn’t dare go out into the open, in case I was seen and attacked.

I stayed in the cave till twilight arrived, then ventured out to investigate the wild fruit and vegetables growing nearby. I was amazed to find an abundance, but I ate a rather meagre meal to preserve the supply a little. I then fell asleep inside the cave. When I awoke, the sun was high in the sky and silence persisted all around. I looked out of the cave and risked stepping outside to get my whereabouts but could recognise nowhere, yet I’d thought myself familiar with the area all around the aqueduct. However, thinking back, I realised I must have covered a good few miles, with all the twists and turns I had made in trying to evade capture or death. With a sinking heart, I concluded that I was well and truly lost. Though a city boy, I am well enough versed in the science of the heavens – or so I believed. Using the sun for guidance, I set off in a north-westerly direction to my brother’s home but somehow went round in circles and arrived back at the cave. Various other attempts over the next few days resulted in much the same outcome and so after that I kept close to the cave for fear of losing my makeshift home, despite my markers strewn along the route.

Many days passed slowly as I became a little more accustomed to living alone in the cave. I was managing to survive on the various fruit and vegetables growing around there, but I missed my family more and more. I kept thinking of my wife and, though my situation seemed desperate, dreamed that one day I would find her with our children and their grandparents, all safe in my brother’s home. But where was that remote village? As I settled down to sleep, I vowed to try again the next day. Onward with hope…

© Chasqui Penguin, 2021

Twitter: @ChasquiPenguin