Генри Хаггард - Heart of the World

"As you will," said Maya, with a sigh; and presently they went.

That evening the señor and I attended a feast at the house of one of the great nobles, whence we returned somewhat late. Having dismissed those who had escorted us, I walked with him as far as the door of his private chambers, purposing to leave him there; but he bade me enter, for he wished to talk with me about the events of the day and this forthcoming ceremony of the anointing of the child. Accordingly I did so, and, passing through the first chamber, we came to the second, beyond which lay his sleeping–rooms. Here we halted by the open window, and I approached a lamp, for I wished to smoke and had no light. As I bent over it, something caught my ear, and I listened, since it seemed to me that through the massive doors of the bedchamber I heard the sound of a woman's voice crying for help. Instantly I flung them open and rushed thither by way of an ante–room, calling to the señor as I went.

I did not arrive too soon, for in the bedchamber itself a strange sight met my eyes. At the foot of the bed stood a cradle, in which lay the child, and near to it two women struggled. One of these—in whom I knew Nahua, the wife of Tikal—held a copper knife in her hand, and the other, Maya, gripped her round the body and arms from behind, so that, strive as she would, she could not free herself to use it. Still, of the two women Nahua was the heavier and the more strong, and, though slowly, she dragged the other closer to the cradle. Indeed, as I reached the room, she wrenched her right arm loose and raised it to strike at the infant with the knife. But here the matter ended, for at that moment I caught her round the waist and threw her back, so that she fell heavily on the floor, letting drop the knife in her effort to save herself. She sprang to her feet and ran towards the door, there to be met by the señor, who seized her and held her fast.

"How came this lady here, Maya, and what does she seek!" the señor asked.

"I do not know how she came," gasped his wife. "My waiting–women were gone, and I had begun to prepare myself for sleep, when, looking into yonder mirror, I saw her behind me, having in her hand a naked knife, and searching the room with her eyes. Presently they fell upon the cradle, and, lifting the knife, she took a step towards it. Then I turned and gripped her, holding her as well as I was able; but she was too strong for me and dragged me forward, so that had it not been for Ignatio here, by now she would have made an end of our son."

"Is this true?" said the señor to Nahua.

"It is true, White Man," she answered.

"Why do you desire to kill one so innocent?" he asked again.

"Is it not natural that I should wish to destroy the child who is to supplant my child, and to break the heart of the woman who has broken my heart?" Nahua answered, sullenly. "Amongst many other things, I have learned, White Man, of that ceremony which is to take place to–morrow, whereat my husband is to be deposed and my child dishonoured, that they may make room for you and for your child—you, the white–wanderer, and your son, the Heaven–born, the Fore–ordained!"

"What have we to do with these things, O woman with the heart of a puma?" he asked. "If Tikal is to be driven from his place, it is because of his crimes."

"And if you and yours are to be set in it, White Man, without doubt it is because of your virtues; and yet, O black–hearted knave that you are, I tell you that I know all the truth. I know how you forged the writing, setting the false for the true within the holy symbol of the Heart. I know also that my father helped you to the deed, for although he is dead, he wrote down that tale before he died, and gave it to me, together with the ancient prophecy that you dared to steal from the holy Sanctuary. Yes, I have the proofs, and when needful I will show them. I did not come here to do murder, at least not upon the infant; but the sight of it sleeping in its cradle overcame me, and of a sudden I determined to wreak my wrongs upon it and upon its mother. In this I have failed, but when I denounce you to the Council, then I shall not fail; then you will be known for what you are, and die the death that you deserve."

"It comes into my mind, husband," said Maya coldly, "that if we would save our own lives we must rob this woman of hers. Such a doom she has richly earned, nor will any blame us when they learn what was her errand here."

Now when she heard these words, Nahua struggled in the señor's grasp, and opened her mouth as though to scream.

"Be silent," he said, "if you wish to keep your soul in you. Ignatio, close those doors and give me yonder shawl."

I did so, and with the shawl we bound Nahua's arms behind her, fastening it over her mouth so that she could make no sound. Then we took a leather girdle and strapped it about her knees, so that she could not move, but lay helpless on the floor, glaring at us with her fierce eyes.

"Now let us take counsel," I said.

"Yes," answered the señor, "let us take counsel, for we need it. One of two things we must do; kill that woman, or fly the city, for if she leaves this place alive we are certainly doomed to death before the altar, ay! and the child also."

"Fly!" said Maya, "how can we fly when I am still weak and the babe is so young and tender? Should we succeed in escaping from the city and across the lake, certainly we must perish among the snows of the mountains or in the deserts beyond. Also, we should be missed and overtaken."

"Then Nahua must die," said the señor.

"Could we not swear her to silence if we released her?" I asked, for I shrank from such a dreadful deed, however just and necessary it might be.

"Swear her to silence!" said Maya contemptuously, "as easily might you swear a snake not to use its fangs, if one should chance to tread on it. Do you not understand that this woman hates me bitterly, who she thinks has robbed her of her husband's love, that she would gladly die herself, if thereby she could bring about my death and that of those who are dear to me. So soon as she could leave her bed of sickness she came here to taunt me with the doom she had prepared, knowing that I was alone. Then she saw the child, and so great was her desire for revenge that she could not even wait till the law should wreak it for her. No, the issue is plain; if we cannot fly, either she must die or we must. Is it not so, Ignatio?"

"It seems that it is so," I answered sadly, "and yet the thing is awful."

"It is awful, but it must be done," said the señor, "and it falls on me to do it for the sake of my wife and child. Alas! that I was ever born, that I should live to stand face to face with such necessity. Could not another hand be found? No; for then we should confess ourselves as murderers. Give me a knife. Nay, my hands will serve, and this end will seem more natural, for I can say that when I found her in the act of murder, I seized her and killed her suddenly by my strength alone, not meaning it in my wrath."

Now he stepped to where Nahua lay, and knelt beside her, and we two drew away sick at heart and hid our faces in our hands.

Presently he was with us again.

"Is it done?" asked Maya hoarsely.

"No; nor will be by me," he answered, in a fierce voice, "sooner would I choke the breath out of my own body than strangle this defenceless woman, cruel–hearted murderess though she is. If she is to be killed, some other man must do the deed."

"Then it will remain undone," said Maya. "And now, since we have thus determined, let us think of flight, for the night draws on, and in flight is our only hope."

"What, then, is to be done with this woman?" I asked. "We cannot take her with us."