Montezuma's DaughterHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Montezuma's Daughter
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Mexico -- History -- Conquest, 1519-1540 -- Fiction
I awoke at dawn much refreshed with sleep, and having washed and
clothed myself in the linen robes that were provided for me, I came
into the large room, where food was given me. Scarcely had I finished
my meal when my captor, the _cacique_, entered, accompanied by two men
whose appearance struck terror to my heart. In countenance they were
fierce and horrible; they wore black robes embroidered with mystic
characters in red, and their long and tangled hair was matted together
with some strange substance. These men, whom all present, including the
chief or _cacique_, seemed to look on with the utmost reverence, glared
at me with a fierce glee that made my blood run cold. One of them,
indeed, tore open my white robe and placed his filthy hand upon my
heart, which beat quickly enough, counting its throbs aloud while the
other nodded at his words. Afterwards I learned that he was saying that
I was very strong.
Glancing round to find the interpretation of this act upon the faces of
those about me, my eyes caught those of the girl Marina, and there was
that in them which left me in little doubt. Horror and pity were
written there, and I knew that some dreadful death overshadowed me.
Before I could do anything, before I could even think, I was seized by
the priests, or _pabas_ as the Indians name them, and dragged from the
room, all the household following us except Marina and the _cacique_.
Now I found myself in a great square or market place bordered by many
fine houses of stone and lime, and some of mud, which was filling
rapidly with a vast number of people, men women and children, who all
stared at me as I went towards the pyramid on the top of which the fire
burned. At the foot of this pyramid I was led into a little chamber
hollowed in its thickness, and here my dress was torn from me by more
priests, leaving me naked except for a cloth about my loins and a
chaplet of bright flowers which was set upon my head. In this chamber
were three other men, Indians, who from the horror on their faces I
judged to be also doomed to death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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