Montezuma's DaughterHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Montezuma's Daughter
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Mexico -- History -- Conquest, 1519-1540 -- Fiction
Presently all were gone, and fearing a snare the Spaniards came slowly
and cautiously round the angle of the rock, and seeing so few men
mustered to meet them halted, for now they were certain that we had set
a trap for them, since they did not think it possible that such a
little band would venture to oppose their array. Here the ground lay so
that only a few of them could come against us at one time, nor could
they bring their heavy pieces to bear on us, and even their arquebusses
helped them but little. Also the roughness of the road forced them to
dismount from their horses, so that if they would attack at all, it
must be on foot. This in the end they chose to do. Many fell upon
either side, though I myself received no wound, but in the end they
drove us back. Inch by inch they drove us back, or rather those who
were left of us, at the point of their long lances, till at length they
forced us into the mouth of the pass, that is some five furlongs
distant from what was once the wall of the City of Pines.
To fight further was of no avail, here we must choose between death and
flight, and as may be guessed, for wives’ and children’s sake if not
for our own, we chose to fly. Across the plain we fled like deer, and
after us came the Spaniards and their allies like hounds. Happily the
ground was rough with stones so that their horses could not gallop
freely, and thus it happened that some of us, perhaps twenty, gained
the gates in safety. Of my army not more than five hundred in all lived
to enter them again, and perchance there were as many left within the
city.
The heavy gates swung to, and scarcely were they barred with the
massive beams of oak, when the foremost of the Spaniards rode up to
them. My bow was still in my hand and there was one arrow left in my
quiver. I set it on the string, and drawing the bow with my full
strength, I loosed the shaft through the bars of the gate at a young
and gallant looking cavalier who rode the first of all. It struck him
truly between the joint of his helm and neck piece, and stretching his
arms out wide he fell backward over the crupper of his horse, to move
no more. Then they withdrew, but presently one of their number came
forward bearing a flag of truce. He was a knightly looking man, clad in
rich armour, and watching him, it seemed to me that there was something
in his bearing, and in the careless grace with which he sat his horse,
that was familiar to me. Reining up in front of the gates he raised his
visor and began to speak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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