Montezuma's DaughterHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Montezuma's Daughter
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Mexico -- History -- Conquest, 1519-1540 -- Fiction
Now the fight drew near to the stone of sacrifice, and all who remained
alive of the Aztecs, perhaps some two hundred and fifty of them,
besides the priests, ringed themselves round us and it in a circle.
Also the outer rim of the sunbeam that fell through the golden funnel,
creeping on remorselessly, touched my painted side which it seemed to
burn as hot iron might, for alas, I could not command the sun to stand
still while the battle raged, as did Joshua in the valley of Ajalon.
When it touched me, five priests seized my limbs and head, and the
father of them, he who had conducted me from the palace, clasped his
flint knife in both hands. Now a deathly sickness took me and I shut my
eyes dreaming that all was done, but at that moment I heard a wild-eyed
man, the chief of the astronomers whom I had noted standing by, call
out to the minister of death:
“Not yet, O priest of Tezcat! If you smite before the sunbeam lies upon
the victim’s heart, your gods are doomed and doomed are the people of
Anahuac.”
The priest gnashed his teeth with rage, and glared first at the
creeping point of light and then over his shoulder at the advancing
battle. Slowly the ring of warriors closed in upon us, slowly the
golden ray crept up my breast till its outer rim touched the red circle
painted upon my heart. Again the priest heaved up his awful knife,
again I shut my eyes, and again I heard the shrill scream of the
astronomer, “Not yet, not yet, or your gods are doomed!”
Then I heard another sound. It was the voice of Otomie crying for help.
“Save us, Teules; they murder us!” she shrieked in so piercing a note
that it reached the ears of the Spaniards, for one shouted in answer
and in the Castilian tongue, “On, my comrades, on! The dogs do murder
on their altars!”
Then there was a mighty rush and the defending Aztecs were swept in
upon the altar, lifting the priest of sacrifice from his feet and
throwing him across my body. Thrice that rush came like a rush of the
sea, and each time the stand of the Aztecs weakened. Now their circle
was broken and the swords of the Spaniards flashed up on every side,
and now the red ray lay within the ring upon my heart.
“Smite, priest of Tezcat,” screamed the voice of the astronomer; “smite
home for the glory of your gods!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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