Casca 10: The Conquistador by Sadler Barry

Author:Sadler, Barry [Sadler, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-03-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Casca watched the departing backs of the nephews of Moctezuma. The events of the last weeks were giving him an uneasy feeling that Cortes was going to rip the country apart and in the process its people too. He knew that the Aztecs were barbarous in their customs, even to the eating of human flesh, but other cultures had gone through the same evolutionary process. The question in his mind concerned what to do. He had no real desire for the gold of Moctezuma or for power. He knew full well that both of those things would be temporary at best.

For a time this land had been home to him, and he had liked the people. They had a greatness to them that if allowed to grow could make them one of the great peoples of the world. But should they be allowed to grow if in the process they put thousands upon thousands of more innocent people on their altars?

The Spaniards were not a great deal better; witness their Inquisition and the cheerful slaughtering of anyone who wasn't a Catholic. But the Spaniards would, if history was any gauge, grow out of their insanity faster than the isolated cultures of the Indians.

Impulse had directed his feet more than once over the centuries. He left his horse behind, telling the stablers to take care of him; he was going to scout around a bit. As he left the camp, a hail stopped his steps. Juan was running up to him. "Where are you going?"

Casca didn't feel like going into the story of his life, and so he just told him, "I have something to do that can't be stopped. You stay here until I get back. If you go on the march before I return, take my horse."

Juan knew that there was nothing he could do to change his compadre's mind. He only asked, "Does this have something to do with your learning their tongue?"

Casca nodded. "That and other things I don't have time to tell you of. So just go back and let me do that which I have to.” He left Juan standing on the trail as he double-timed it after the nephews of Moctezuma. Juan watched the broad back disappear where the trail curved by a grove of tall maguey plants. He wondered if he'd ever see Casca again. He just didn't understand.

It took him only a few minutes to catch up to the ambassador's party, where they had rejoined their escort of two thousand warriors from the Coyote Clan. The members of the clan were brilliantly costumed men armed with macamas, spears, and bows, their faces painted with black and red bands. On their heads were headdresses of bright feathers, and on their shields the likeness of the coyote. When the ambassadors had neared the camp of the Spaniards, they had ordered the escort to remain behind so that they would not make a threatening image to the gods from the sea. Now they waited

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