Naamah's Blessing

SEVENTY-SEVEN





Emperor Achcuatli was generous.

Our entire company was lodged within the vast walls of the palace. Attendants brought us all the food we might have desired. They stoked the fires of the temazcallis that we might sweat the grime of our long journey from our pores, and brought clean attire to don afterward. Rendered indolent by luxury, we spent three days there.

On the second day, the Emperor sent for me.

“You don’t have to go, Moirin.” Bao wore his shuttered expression, his face unreadable. “You could refuse to meet with him.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked him. He didn’t answer. “If it is, I will,” I added. “Only tell me.”

Bao sighed. “No. He’s given you no cause to refuse.” He rumpled his unruly hair. “Just…”

“I won’t,” I promised.

He frowned at me.

“Stupid boy,” I said fondly. “Whatever lies behind this, it’s not Naamah’s prompting, at least not on my end of the matter. That means I am free to choose.” Sinking my hands into Bao’s thick, springing hair, I pulled him toward me and kissed him, feeling our diadh-anams intertwine. “And I choose to be faithful to you, my husband.”

His expression eased. “Oh, aye?”

I kissed him again. “Aye.”

As it transpired, the decision was not entirely as easy as I reckoned it would be.

Summoned by Lord Cuixtli, I met the Emperor Achcuatli in the gardens. As we had done before, we strolled them together, gazing at the blooming flowers and the birds in the aviary, familiar strangers trailed by a horde of attendants. The Emperor kept his silence and I kept mine, waiting for him to break it.

It took some time.

“Since we were together, I have been unable to stop thinking of you,” Achcuatli said at length, his tone formal.

“I am honored,” I replied truthfully.

He turned toward me and laid his hands on my shoulders. “I ask but one more night before you go. Your husband may have his pick of my wives this time since the last one did not please him. And I will give your Prince of Terre d’Ange what he desires. The prince came here seeking glory. What he salvaged from Tawantinsuyo is a pittance. He seeks trade rights on equal footing with those I have granted to the men of Aragonia, does he not?” He gave a sharp nod, gazing intently at me. “I will see to it that his ship rides low in the water beneath the weight of Nahuatl gold and chocolatl beans. Whatever you desire. I will take it on trust that the favor will be returned. Only say yes.”

Ah, gods!

If Thierry were to return from his ill-fated expedition with a full hold of trade goods from Terra Nova, he would win considerable glory.

I wanted that for him. I did. I wanted it for all of us. A triumphant return would be validation beyond reproach. And it was not as though I found Achcuatli unappealing; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

But I loved Bao, and I had made a promise to him. Given his pragmatic streak, he would forgive me sooner or later. I was not sure I would be able to forgive myself.

I looked away. “You flatter me, my lord,” I murmured. “You flatter me, and you tempt me, too. But I must say no.”

Achcuatli’s hands fell away. “You’re sure?”

I nodded. “I am.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “So it is not true, what the men of Aragonia say of your people. You are not willing to sell yourself at any price. That is good to know. I was uncertain.”

I scowled at him. “You were testing me?”

“Peace.” The Emperor held up one hand. “Either answer would have pleased me for different reasons. I have already decided that I wish to engage in trade with your nation. The balance of power has shifted since first your prince came to our shores. Now that our people are no longer falling by the thousands to the spotted sickness, we are able to stand stronger against the men of Aragonia.” He paused. “I note that the one who taught our ticitls is no longer among you.”

“No,” I murmured. “He perished in Tawantinsuyo.”

“It is a pity.” Achcuatli resumed his stroll, and I kept pace with him. “We owe him a great debt.”

Since it was true, I said nothing to gainsay it. My heart ached a bit for the man Raphael de Mereliot could have been. “If you had already decided, why did you wish to test me, my lord?” I asked instead.

“I wished to learn more of the nature of your people,” he said. “As your prince said, knowledge is more valuable than gold.”

“There are those who would have taken the offer,” I said. “Would you have thought less of me if I had?”

Achcuatli shook his head. “As I said, it would have pleased me for different reasons.”

“Would you have told me that you intended to open trade with Terre d’Ange regardless of my answer?” I asked.

He gave me a sidelong glance, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Of course not. I would have let your people believe that your women are irresistible to the men of the Nahuatl Empire.”

At that, I had to smile. “You are a clever man, my lord.”

Emperor Achcuatli gazed into the distance. “Since the coming of the strangers from beyond the sea, I have had to learn to rule in a new and different way. The world has changed, and we must change with it. The old ways are not always the best ways.” He walked in silence for a time. “I have spoken with the priests regarding the words you spoke to me before. It is their belief that the goddess Xochiquetzal spoke through you. Do you suppose such a thing is possible?”

“I suppose a great many things are possible,” I said. “It is hard to know the will of the gods.”

He nodded in agreement. “This is true. But I believe that they need their people to remain strong. Strong in spirit and strong in numbers, no longer fighting amongst ourselves for glory and sacrifice, but standing strong together. To that end, I have made new allies amongst former enemies.” He glanced at me again. “That should please you, I think.”

“It does,” I said. “But what you told me was true, too. When the gods thirst, sometimes blood is the only sacrifice.” I swallowed involuntarily, reliving the memory of Cusi’s blood spilling over the stair. “I wish it were not so.”

“Perhaps it will not always be so,” Achcuatli said gently. Reaching out with one hand, he ran a few strands of my hair through his fingers, then leaned down to kiss my lips. “Now go, and return to your husband.”

I went.

Following the pull of my diadh-anam, I found Bao in a palace courtyard, sparring with Temilotzin. Both men were stripped to the waist, sweating in the sunlight, Temilotzin wielding a new obsidian-studded club and grunting with frustration as he tried in vain to either get inside Bao’s reach or splinter his elusive bamboo staff. I held my tongue, fearing that if I interrupted them, there would be bloodshed.

“I cannot believe I am having such difficulty defeating a man with a stick,” the Jaguar Knight complained, and then he caught sight of me and stayed his hand, lowering his club. “Ah! Hello, my little warrior.”

I smiled at him. “Hello, Temilotzin.”

Bao turned. “Moirin.”

Mayhap it was petty of me, but the studied neutrality of his tone galled me a bit. “Emperor Achcuatli made me a considerable offer,” I informed him. “One we did not expect. In exchange for a single night with me, he is willing to grant trade-rights to Terre d’Ange. You may have your pick of his wives, since the last one did not please you. As a token of his trust, he will fill the hold of our ship with gold and chocolatl until it wallows in the water under the weight of its cargo.”

Bao’s expression darkened. “At least you command a worthy price.”

“I said no.”

He stared at me, blinking.

Temilotzin chuckled. “Do not be concerned,” he said in a helpful manner. “The Emperor does but toy with you. He has already made his choice, and he wishes to trade with your nation. Eyahue and I have agreed to sail with you if you will have us. We would learn more of this world across the sea.”

It was my turn to blink. “You do? You are?”

The Jaguar Knight shrugged. “The old pochteca can’t stand being idle, and his family is angry at him for his nephew’s death, even though the idiot deserved it. As for me…” His voice trailed off. “You’re not listening, are you?”

“Stupid girl,” Bao breathed, crossing the courtyard in a few swift strides. His hands rose to cup my face, and he kissed me hard. “You knew the Emperor had already chosen. You were just trying to torment me, weren’t you?”

“A little,” I admitted. “I made you a promise, Bao. You might have trusted me to keep it.”

He gave me a wry look. “When it comes to matters of fidelity, history is not on your side, Moirin.”

I returned his kiss. “Nor yours, my magpie. I did not wed the Great Khan’s daughter, or bed the Spider Queen Jagrati.”

Bao’s hands slid to my waist. “Jagrati does not count,” he whispered against my lips. “I thought you were dead, not cavorting in the wilderness with some strapping milk-sop of a Vralian lad. And you would have done whatever Jagrati asked of you, were it not for the Rani Amrita.” He kissed me again. “Which is another story, isn’t it?”

I pressed a finger against his lips. “And you know why. I will not have you speak a word against our lady Amrita.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Shall we speak of your dreams instead? Dreams held on the very eve of our wedding?”

“No.” I twined my arms around his neck and kissed him. “If you don’t mind, I’d sooner we don’t speak at all.”

Bao smiled. “I don’t mind.”

“You are a very strange people,” Temilotzin commented, slinging his club over one shoulder. “Truly.”





Jacqueline Carey's books