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Cuauhtémoc: Descendant of the Jaguar
Cuauhtémoc: Descendant of the Jaguar
Cuauhtémoc: Descendant of the Jaguar
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Cuauhtémoc: Descendant of the Jaguar

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Davies manages to convey what took place in previous episodes without seeming redundant, and Jaguar is much more tightly constructed than the first two stories. But it is really the minor characters that make this third book enjoyable. A displaced Spaniard, a British admiral, Cuauhtémoc's youngest adopted brother, pirates and other nefarious vil

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 12, 2022
ISBN9781998784325
Cuauhtémoc: Descendant of the Jaguar
Author

D L Davies

D L Davies is 3/4 Caucasian;1/4 American Indian, age 81 and holding; have quite a good memory; He actually remembers being inside his mother's womb as well as birth; not as a full-length movie but as a series of color snap-shots. Have always loved books; long before He could read. He loves to look at books and make-up stories to go along with the pictures. Once loved outdoors but the aging process has reduced that considerably. Have at least a dozen more stories in his head. Only time will tell if he gets them all told.

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    Cuauhtémoc - D L Davies

    COVER.jpg

    Copyright © 2022 by D L Davies

    ISBN: 978-1-998784-31-8 (Paperback)

    978-1-998784-32-5 (E-book)

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    The views expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    BookSide Press

    877-741-8091

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    CONTENTS

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 1

    The first few days . . . of Emperor Cuauhtémoc’s reign passed smoothly; he already had a well-trained staff in place, people who for the most part he already knew and trusted because all were on the ‘untouchable’ list and because none of them threw their arms over their faces and ran away in terror when they saw him: a thing that only evil ones would do.

    The old Emperor, free of the healer who tried to kill him, gained strength back daily and before long he was able to walk again without being held erect between two of his sons. Cuauhtémoc took a chance of sorts and started giving his father small doses of ‘Temmo’s leaves’ mixed in with his Father’s favorite wine and the gains were notable.

    Maya was now known throughout much of the educated parts of Europe and scholars and scoundrels seemed to arrive on every ship; the first were interested in the knowledge that the Mayan people possessed in the way of arts and science and healing wisdom and other things while the second group were interested in pretty much everything else: it kept the bay commanders busy trying to figure out which were who and while they weren’t always successful they eliminated most of the latter.

    The Greatest Mayan, his father and brothers and others were gathered out on the rooftop, soaking up some very welcome sun; the last seven days had been stormy, only clearing off late in the afternoon of the previous day: at the moment they were talking about Maya becoming a world-known Nation and what that might mean for them as well as their people. As they spoke of these things among others a large shadow passed overhead and then a second shadow and a soft hooting call came from the sky, followed by the croaking of a raven; Cuauhtémoc looked up and recognized Twuondan and Qualaktec as they circled above, he raised his right hand over his head and made a circling motion that spiraled downward towards the nearby area that had been reserved for landings; the two men hooted and cawed back and one after the other they came to land gently on the rooftop not far from where their friend and Emperor stood, waiting whatever news they might have.

    He had sent his friends down into the southern part of Maya nearly four years earlier and then later, up into the northern areas, carrying the will of The Birdman and The Greatest Mayan with them; within the last six months they had returned to the City of Emperors. They landed one after the other and servants quickly caught the wings and moved them off to one side and anchored them where it was safe because the city was windy most of the time and wings could not just be left unattended if one hoped that they would still be there when they returned.

    Twuondan and Qualaktec came up to him and bowed deeply, crossing their arms as one is supposed to do to their Emperor; Cuauhtémoc stared for a moment and then nodded, recognizing that the two still lived.

    Five ships approach from the north, Greatest Mayan, Twuondan said, they were about a fist of the sun (one hour) from here when we first saw them; from descriptions we’ve heard and from the drawings of flags we’ve seen we believe that they are British Man o’ Wars. We followed them at a distance; about a thumb ago four of the ships furled perhaps half of their sails and permitted the lead ship to move on ahead of them; this ship should be ready to pull into the bay in a thumb of the sun or so and the other four are following about that much time behind. This seems to be strange behavior so we thought that we should report to you in person just in case it means trouble.

    Cuauhtémoc thought for a moment and then shook his head; "I don’t think that this is a problem; actually it makes good sense. If I were sailing into an unknown port I might be tempted to send one of my ships ahead to see what happens. If that ship is well received then the rest should be also and if the first ship is attacked the other four know to come in with their cannons on fire.

    I think that I would like to be down on the pier when the British make their appearance. I have been curious about them for a long time now; they sound like a very remarkable people; be sure to notify our resident British transplant that some of his kind are on the way, perhaps he will want to come down to see if he recognizes anyone. This last comment was aimed at one of the nearby servants who bowed deeply and left on his task. The Emperor, his three brothers, Son of Spain and the rest of their usual group all headed downstairs and towards the distant docks.

    By the time the Emperor and his group reached what was now the main docking area the British Union Jack came into view along with what they knew to be the first of five ships that were headed their way; Cuauhtémoc waited patiently and talked to his brothers as they speculated what this might mean: the Man o’ War dropped anchor and launched a longboat and several officers were rowed ashore by their sailors. They could clearly see the men in the longboat gaping at the ships that had once belonged to Green Beard and the rest which were all now pulled into a relatively tight group up into the northern-most part of the bay where workers were stripping some of the ships in order to rebuild others that had not been as badly damaged; the theory was that in time Maya would have their own fleet of ships and perhaps even take their particular kind of warfare to the pirate’s home port although a great many details had to be worked out before that was even remotely possible.

    The longboat touched the pier that had recently been created for this kind of thing and the sailors steadied the boat by hanging onto the pier’s railings while their officer and underlings stepped ashore and then in a small group of three, they walked towards where the Emperor and his people politely waited. The officer in charge looked at all the people who stood before him, many of whom were wearing ornate feathered headdresses; Any idea what language these beggars speak? he asked his men rhetorically.

    Good heavens; you’re British, Cuauhtémoc exclaimed; how positively ripping to meet you chaps at last. We’ve heard so much about you these last few years and we’ve been wondering when you were going to get around to paying us a visit. The officer staggered back a half-step in astonishment: Oh; dreadfully sorry old man, I thought sure that it was the Union Jack that you flew and that your ship is a Man o’ War.

    Yes; Union Jack, Man o’ War . . . how on earth is it that you speak our language so well? While the officer and Cuauhtémoc were talking, Son of Spain was busily interpreting their words to the rest because in the four plus years that he had been in the City of Emperors he had added both Mayan and English to his lengthy résumé.

    I am The Birdman and I speak all known languages, both human as well as bird and animal; I am also the Emperor of Maya. All the lands to the north and south of this city are mine and all of the people are my children and look to me for guidance and protection, he said calmly. Before the officer could adjust to this bold statement a shadow passed overhead and a shrill ‘screee’ sounded: he looked up. A moment if you don’t mind, he said, speaking to the officer before him, one of my Lieutenants wants to make a report. He lifted his head and made the wild sweet cry of the eagle back to the bird; the eagle started circling down towards him and those gathered on the dock.

    The three immature eagles that had followed him to the palace’s roof over four years earlier had all matured long since; two had turned out to be males and the third a female. She had chosen one of the males for her mate and the second male had either not yet found a female or wasn’t actually interested it mating: this is not a common thing among man, birds or animals but from time to time it does happen. In any case the three birds had become so used to him and the other humans that they were now almost tame; the first two would come to him some of the times when he called them but this particular bird would come almost every time, much like the Mother Eagle of his earliest youth. He turned to a nearby servant and made a quick circling motion around his left wrist with his right forefinger, the servant started to move forward with a llama skin in his hands but H’ratli took it from the servant and approached and with a deep bow he wrapped the skin around Inca’s arm and tied it into place; Cuauhtémoc bowed politely to his brother and turned his attention back to the British sailors and their officer.

    Step back just a bit, would you? My Lieutenant wants to make his report and he likes to have plenty of wing-room when he lands. The British seamen and officers looked confused but did as they were asked; a moment later the eagle’s shadow passed overhead once again, this time much closer; as they looked up in wonder a great eagle swooped down, back-winging strongly and Mayan Princes and the rest grabbed at their headdresses to keep them from being blown off. H’ratli stood directly behind Cuauhtémoc, his left hand on his own headdress and his right on his brother’s: Cuauhtémoc held his left arm up and the landing eagle’s talons reached out and a moment later the bird was sitting on his extended arm. The eagle folded his wings in upon him and ruffled his feathers quickly to settle them; G-r-r-r-a-k! the bird said softly in his throat.

    There was a time when Cuauhtémoc thought that eagles didn’t have anything close to a language but that was before he had become familiar with these three birds and especially this one. The eagle continued to make soft sounds in his throat as he lifted first his right talons from Cuauhtémoc’s arms and then his left in a sort of rocking motion, all the while he bobbed his head up and down in a sinuous motion that would have resulted in a broken neck in a human if one had been foolish enough to try to duplicate. The Emperor seemed to pay full attention to the bird, making comments in Mayan; How many did you say? as the male bobbed his head up and down five times; Five ships? But there is only the one, he objected.

    The male eagle stared in the direction of the humans who were standing further down the pier, apparently looking at the ship behind them, then he swiveled his head around, looking over his left wing for a moment. He turned his head back around and looked up at the Mayan palace and then once again looked up at the human whose arm he was sitting on and bobbed his head another four times. Cuauhtémoc carefully reached his right hand towards the bird; the eagle looked at the fingers for a moment; he opened his mouth and with a beak capable of severing a finger with a single bite he carefully nibbled Cuauhtémoc’s fingertips, making soft sounds in his throat all the while; he ruffled the feathers on his head and Cuauhtémoc carefully scratched the top of the bird’s head and the back of its neck: because a bird’s neck contains twelve bones it can preen almost any spot on its body with incredible ease, the only places that it can never reach is the back of its head and neck. Under normal circumstances mates do these areas for each other but since this male was unmated he couldn’t reach these spots: Cuauhtémoc carefully scratched this area, loosening up dead skin and the like and the bird made contented noises in his throat.

    The Greatest Mayan continued this for a few more moments, adding his own soft sounds to his gentle touch and then he made a T-k-k-k-i-c sound and the eagle’s head and neck feathers lay back down and his head came up and an alert expression came into his eyes: Cuauhtémoc pointed his right hand towards some fishermen off to one side and with his thumb straight up he made the swimming motion of a fish; the fisherman bowed deeply and bent over and picked up a freshly caught fish, he had been watching the same as everyone else and he knew that this would probably happen. He lifted up a medium-sized fish, holding it at the narrow place where body and tail fin meet; the fish wiggled, trying to get back into the water.

    As the eagle crouched Cuauhtémoc lifted his left arm up into the air, supporting it with his right hand because when the eagle kicked off he had a great deal of thrust and if his arm dropped too much the bird lost much of the power of its first wing stroke. In the blink of an eye the eagle launched himself from Cuauhtémoc’s arm and the Emperor could feel his brother’s hand on his head to keep the wing blast from blowing his headdress off. The raptor beat his wings powerfully and then went into a glide; the man holding the wriggling fish gauged the distance carefully and when he thought that the bird was within striking range he tossed the fish as high into the air as he could; the eagle beat his wings with incredible energy and a few eye blinks later his talons shot out and caught the fish right at the top of its arc; the eagle, contented, flew towards a dead tree nearby to enjoy the meal that he had just captured.

    The Emperor of Maya looked the officer on the pier in his eyes: My Lieutenant has told me that you are the first of five ships and that the other four have held back a ways; I can only presume that this is to see if your one ship gets a good reception or not; I understand your thinking and I approve. I hope that all men who come into Mayan waters can come in peace for we Mayans are a peaceful people. For those who do not wish to follow peaceful ways, he pointed at the cluster of ships off being worked on, my birdmen have an answer. So tell me if you may, what brings you to our waters?

    All the time that Cuauhtémoc had been talking in English to the Brits, Son of Spain was translating his words into Mayan to keep his brothers and the rest aware of what was being spoken about; when Cuauhtémoc switched into Mayan to talk to the eagle on his arm, Son of Spain immediately switched over to English so the British could understand as well; the two men were well above normal in intelligence and they had worked this routine often enough that they performed seamlessly no matter which language Cuauhtémoc might be speaking. The officer from the British ship glanced about and cleared his throat.

    I’m not exactly sure how much I’m authorized to tell you, your Highness, but we ran into a wolf-pack of pirates some months ago and they’ve bloody well given us the slip and we’ve been searching for them ever since.

    You’ll be talking about Green Beard then? he asked politely.

    I don’t understand how you know that, but that is exactly who we’re looking for; have you seen anything of the blighter?

    Indeed we have; he and eight of his highest officers are here . . . at least their heads are here. My sources say that all of the Crowns of Europe want their heads but they didn’t say anything about wanting the rest of them so I had my people remove their heads from their shoulders and dispose of the lower parts; I do hope that’s not going to cause a problem for your various kings.

    You . . . you’ve killed Green Beard?

    Yes. Some months ago, not long after your lads had a go at him evidently: he sailed into our bay with the idea of killing most of us and enslaving the rest and taking over our city and making it his new headquarters. He and twelve other ships started a disturbance and by the time the dust had settled we’d torched four of his ships to the waterline and the fifth badly fire damaged and all of the rest of the ships were no longer seaworthy. Take a look over there to the north if you wish and you’ll see what’s left; his ship is the third one from this end. When we went through it we found all of his personal records; who he’d killed and when, the exact latitude and longitude of his secret base; that sort of thing plus quite a bit of gold and jewels: bringing such here is like carrying coal to Newcastle, eh wot?

    Yes, I understand what you mea . . . Good Heavens! Did I just hear you say that you know the location of Green Beard’s hidden headquarters?

    Yes; it is . . . and he recited the numbers from memory.

    Good Heavens! Good Heavens! Good Heavens! Quick; I need something to write those numbers down on; our people have been trying to find Green Beard’s hidden headquarters for more than a decade now and you recite the numbers off like . . . .

    Settle down like a good chap; it’s all taken care of. I and my people have written down all of the particulars in English, French, Spanish and Portuguese including accurate copies of Green Beard’s personal log and daily diary, each to be sent to the four major powers that now govern the greatest parts of Europe: since you British are already here we can give you your copy now, along with all of the heads if you so desire; we certainly have no use for them.

    The officer looked very agitated; first he tried to deliver the hand-salute of the British Navy, then he started to extend his hand for a handshake and then he stopped, his face showing embarrassment; Dreadfully sorry old thing but I don’t have a clue how I’m suppose to do this, he said, his face growing pink.

    Allow me, Son of Spain said, interrupting. He was back to translating into Mayan for the benefit of the others; he stopped long enough to properly greet his Emperor who looked back for a brief moment and then returned a dignified nod of acceptance. Not too quick with the bowing or they’ll think that you’re in a hurry to get it over with and that’s considered bad form, he told the English officer.

    The British Officer was obviously doing his best to follow the example that Son of Spain was demonstrating and after a few tries he had it down pat; he bowed very respectfully to the Greatest Mayan and Cuauhtémoc nodded gracefully, acknowledging that he still lived. You and your kind shall always be welcome in Maya, just as long as you come in peace and don’t try and tell us how to run our business: Maya has been a thriving power for well over a thousand years, long before Brittan was more than a collection of clans living hand to mouth. We mean no offense old chap but from what I’ve heard described by others; Great Brittan, France and Spain combined could be dropped into Maya and still have room for more. The officer stared, swallowed and bowed again.

    The officer turned and took his hat off and waved it at the ship sitting in the harbor, as he did so the first of the next four Man o’ Wars nosed its prow beyond the jungle’s edge and headed towards the opening that led into the great bay that was overlooked by the palace; Cuauhtémoc looked up at the rooftop and could see his father standing, watching what was taking place: he crossed his arms and bowed deeply at the distant figure and from afar he saw his father bow back in recognition.

    A parrot, perhaps alarmed by the passing ships, flew overhead squawking in its raspy voice; Cuauhtémoc paused and cocked his head as if listening to the bird and then nodded; It’s all right, little brother; we know about them and they are friends, he called out, waving at the bird as it passed overhead: Son of Spain saw and heard his Emperor’s words and faithfully repeated them to the English that were standing on the dock, round-eyed and with mouths agape.

    You never miss a chance, do you Inca? H’ratli asked approvingly.

    I do my best, Cuauhtémoc admitted, Great Viracocha, our Father and you three have given me a job to do; a job that I intend to fulfill to the best of my ability that none of you will ever feel disappointed in me.

    That shall never be, Prince Quoholocet said softly.

    Truth, Prince Imhoquotep echoed.

    Everyone watched in interest as a second longboat was launched from the first ship and then yet a third as they were being rowed towards the pier and those who waited.

    The officer who Cuauhtémoc had been talking to scurried over to lend his superior a hand and to quickly fill him in on what he’d learned; the Captain – or what ever he was – of the ship looked at his subordinate with disbelieving eyes as the man made his report. Before he accused his officer of playing a prank on him he looked about and realized that there were a great many bowmen standing mixed in with those who were obviously fishermen and the like; whatever comments he had intended to make he swallowed whole and when his officer demonstrated the proper way to approach the Mayan Emperor the Captain watched carefully and cautiously duplicated the act to make sure he understood. A moment later the officer told his superior that the Mayan Emperor claimed to have Green Beard’s head and the Captain lost his poise: Great God, Lieutenant; are you serious? I won’t believe that until I see the head with my own eyes! he snapped waspishly.

    Cuauhtémoc raised his hands and clapped twice quickly: everything on the dock came to a sudden and complete halt; he turned to a nearby servant. Have the heads been sealed in the barrel yet? he asked courteously.

    No, Greatest Mayan, the servant said, bowing deeply before him, we have not sealed them because you have given us no orders to do such; again he bowed deeply.

    As it turns out it is for the best. Please go and bring both the barrel with the heads in it as well as all of the papers that have been written for the English people.

    Yes, Greatest Mayan, the servant said; he bowed deeply and walked three paces backwards before straightening up and he headed about his tasks, closely followed by those who answered to his commands.

    The British Captain looked over at the Mayan Emperor who looked far too young to him to be governing a small village much less than an entire country. Come, come old chap; let’s get the preliminaries over with so my lads can feel at ease and so we can get down to the more serious matters at hand, the youth said to him in proper English, astounding the Captain.

    Just follow my lead, Sir, the Lieutenant said and he approached respectfully and bowed deeply and his Captain duplicated the motions carefully, creating a successful start to Mayan/British relationships.

    "While we’re standing around waiting for the heads to arrive perhaps it would be a good time for introductions; I would like to caution all of you here that there are exactly three people in this entire city that can speak your language; two of us are here on this dock and the third one is one of your scholars from Cambridge who is supposedly studying we aborigines for the folk back home. Personally, from what I’ve observed, he has no intention of leaving; either it’s the climate, all the stories and legends of Maya lore or the pretty young Mayan girls. In any case I invited him down here to greet you but so far my chaps have not been able to locate him.

    "I am Cuauhtémoc and I am the Emperor of Maya; all the land that you blokes have been viewing the past five days or so belongs to me as well as some distance south of here. This one here is my oldest brother, Prince Quoholocet; he is in charge of all guards within the palace and the city as well as all soldiers and camps throughout Maya; my brother Prince Imhoquotep is in charge of all herdsmen and farmers throughout Maya and is responsible for the smooth flow of these things to where they are needed. My third brother, H’ratli, is the Merchant Prince; if a thing may be bought or sold anywhere within Maya he is the one you would wish to speak to: he is also my Wing Second and one of the best birdmen in all of Maya. I am the Greatest Mayan, Emperor of this land and I am also The Birdman and all birdmen and their camps are before my eyes: the burned-out hulk that you saw off your starboard side as you sailed in is my handiwork as are the two ships that are now rebuilt. More recently when Green Beard and his chaps came calling it was my fire eggs that knocked him senseless and it was a sword in my hand that separated his head from his shoulders.

    Ah; here they come now: put the barrel in front of the one with the largest hat please, he said to his servants, switching from English into Mayan in mid-sentence.

    The British officers looked at the barrel with mixed emotions clearly on their faces, an eye-blink later the servant removed the lid, which had been lying loosely on top of the barrel the entire time and the preserved face of Green Beard looked up at them.

    My people understand what your kind call mummification very well; this head will keep much as it is now for many centuries. The only liberties that they took with this one’s face was that the process of perseveration removes the dyes that he used in life so once they were done they applied his own dyes back into his beard that he might look more natural to those who might wish to view him.

    The two officers stared down at the head before then and then looked up at the youth before them; without either of them looking at the other both bowed deeply before him using the technique that they had been taught; Cuauhtémoc looked at them for a moment and then nodded politely.

    The other eight heads lie below this one; my people thought that it would be best to keep the heads separated with grasses and a small amount of salt thrown in to keep everything properly dry. It is my understanding that your King, among others, has a sizable reward on the heads of these men; as I spoke to your Lieutenant before you arrived, bringing more wealth into Maya would be like carrying coal to Newcastle. What I suggest is that you accept this reward in my name and then divide it up among your own men if it is your wish; this shall be my way of paying you for taking the heads off of our hands and getting rid of them because we have no use for them whatsoever.

    Thank you, um . . . .

    . . . Greatest Mayan, his Lieutenant hissed in his ear.

    Quite right; thank you Greatest Mayan, the Captain said.

    By now all four of the British ships had entered the harbor and were beginning to furl their sails as the ship’s captains moved their ships into position; as the pirates had done months before each Captain set his ship far enough apart that they wouldn’t endanger their fellows with their cannon-fire in the chance that hostilities broke out, which was only common sense. One by one the officers of first one ship and then another were lowered in their longboats and their seamen rowed them ashore. Cuauhtémoc and his brothers waited patiently and watched the expressions of the newer officers as they were told that Green Beard was no more and that these backward-seeming natives were the ones who had at last killed the one who up to that time seemed unkillable.

    "You will

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