Young Jaguar, The by Zoe Saadia Page A

Uncle wanted? Not
likely. If he was not sure of his actions, of his loyalty to the new Emperor,
they wouldn’t have tried to reach him through her. He must have been proven
difficult for that awful old man to resort to such methods, trying to act
through her, the despised barbarian.
    She brought her palm to her mouth, clasping it hard,
trying to stop her terror from rising again. Oh gods, that man was so
dreadful, so ghastly, so appalling. He wanted to frighten her, but he also
wanted to take her, to sample her.
    The trembling began anew, a violent shaking. She
clenched her fists hard, but it would not stop. All she could do was strangle
her sobbing with her palms and wish Tecpatl would come soon!
    Think of something else, something useful that
would have nothing to do with this evening , she ordered herself. But what?
    Since that morning, a few dawns ago, when she went
up the roof to greet the Sun on the longest day of its journey, she had had no
peace. First, the priest coming and ruining her joy at Tecpatl’s return by
bringing the news of Atolli’s disgrace. Then, the Emperor’s sudden death. And now,
this!
    Her world was once again coming down around her,
tumbling. It had happened before, when she was a young woman and her village
had been sacked and destroyed. But then, she had met Tecpatl and, while her
world, indeed, had come to an end, she had managed to escape. He had saved her.
    Yet, would he manage to save her this time? Would he
manage to save them both?
    And the children!
    She caught her breath. Atolli was being sucked into
this swamp too, although, he was safe for now. Tecpatl would not let him sink.
He would not let the Emperor’s unsatisfied brother take Atolli into his
service. So this one worry could be put to rest.
    But then, if Tecpatl himself did not manage to
escape this trap, they would all go down – Atolli, Flower, Tecuani, all of
them!
    She could taste the blood seeping from her lower
lip, where her teeth sank into it, now more angry than frightened. Well, it
would not happen. It would not happen if she could help it. If there was
anything she could do, besides pouring her heart out to Tecpatl, she would do
it!
    Oh, but she was always so far from the Palace’s
gossip, from politics, from all this hectic activity Azcapotzalco’s nobles
loved so much. Unlike Nopalli. She could try to make use of the silly young
woman. It was easy to make her talk.
    Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow she’d make a point
of visiting her again, under the pretense of caring for her sick child. It
would be interesting to hear what the young lover-of-gossip had to say about
the late Emperor’s sons and their suitability to rule the Empire.
    She shivered. To visit that house once again?
    Well, the old horror of Nopalli’s Revered Father,
Tecpatl’s Great Uncle, did not live there. He happened to visit there this
evening, but he most definitely wouldn’t be around at high noon. He should be
busy at the Palace, planning and scheming, trying to change the emperors.
    But first of all, this very moment, she was going to
talk to Atolli. They all claimed he was too young to understand, but she was
going to disregard this particular Tepanec custom. He was old enough to go out
and risk his life fighting. So he might be old enough to participate in the
deliberations that had a direct impact on his whole future. In her lands people
were regarded old enough for such discussion at fifteen.
    Pleased with her steady steps, she headed for the
bowl upon a reed-woven podium. Splashing fresh water onto her face and drying
it with a cotton cloth made her feel better.
    She picked up her obsidian mirror. No, she could not
go out looking like that, with her cheeks puffy and her eyes red. She could not
let her servants or her children, see her so weakened .
    She searched through her chests. Where was that
yellow cream she had once been persuaded to buy at the market? Decent women
were not to use cosmetics, yet all noblewomen improved their