Revolutions

21 - Inuxeq

"You're Ulxa?!" I exclaim.

Before Mexqutli has a chance to raise his hands in surrender, my bow — Sachia's bow — is drawn taut with an arrow aimed between his wide, hazel eyes. Haluiqa clutches his right side while holding a sword in his other hand, admittedly weakly. He can barely support himself, but his attention is purely on the Ulxa snake, and Haluiqa musters up all the energy he can to defend our land from the likes of their kind.

How could I be so trusting, so blind? Was it from my exhaustion after the numerous events and encounters, days spent traveling and searching for Haluiqa, Sianchu, and any other survivors? Or am I just that naïve, that gullible? I may be experienced with a bow, but perhaps this is why I wasn't brought along on the initial mission, being so easily fooled when battling subterfuge, not physical combat, was thought to be required.

Mexqutli tosses his daggers a short distance from his position — just far enough that he'd need to outpace me to retrieve them, yet near enough that he retains the option to engage in a swift race to reclaim them should peril arise. His gaze alternates between me and Haluiqa, all the while maintaining his hands level with his head. I surmise he's contemplating which of us presents a more favorable opportunity to persuade into considering his words.

"Now, friends," Mexqutli pleads, "what makes you say such an accusation?" His words drip with honey in an effort to charm us.

"The way you speak," Haluiqa says unamused. "I would recognize an Ulxa tongue from anywhere. And your tattoos are obvious."

All three of us look at Mexqutli's torn garment and see, through the tears in the cloth, deep black markings. While there's fury on Haluiqa's face, and most certainly on mine, Mexqutli's face is one of resignation. He closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. Realizing he's been caught, Mexqutli starts to walk backward, but both Haluiqa and I raise our weapons, ready to unleash them at the sight of any false move.

"What is the meaning of this," I shout, arrow at the ready.

"If you both would be so kind," he says in a calm, tranquil tone with his naturally staccato dialect, "as to lower your weapons, I can explain why an Ulxa is traveling through hostile Tuatiu lands."

"You better have an answer," I demand, "and quickly. We wouldn't have to be hostile had it not been for your deceit. I've already shown you enough patience."

"Certainly," he says with a nod, "just as soon as you lower your arrow, please."

"You are far from being in a position to make requests," I say. "So if you don't want those to be your last words, you better start explaining yourself."

"Fair enough," Mexqutli says, "but if you could allow me to say what I have to say without interruption, which I know will be difficult considering what I am about to say, it would be much appreciated."

Haluiqa and I glance at one another in slight confusion, then return our focus on him. I'm convinced he will not be able to convince me, that much I'm sure. He's misled me since I've met him, so I'm prepared to shoot him where he stands, and my mind wills him to make a move for his daggers so I have the chance.

"Although our journey together has begun with deceit, as you say, I am, in fact, traveling for an honorable, diplomatic purpose," Mexqutli says. "I am to persuade Achutli to stop one of our own, a shaman by the name of Xaqilpa, from persuading him into waging war on the Ulxa people."

I'm confused and eager to ask about the Ulxa shaman, and why he would attack his own people, but I decide to allow him to explain. At worst, Mexqutli digs himself into such a hole that it will make it easier to shoot him without remorse. Mexqutli begins to sit down before continuing, which I suppose is another attempt by him at pacifying the situation, to show he's not a threat. I no longer take anything he says or does at face value — I'm going to make sure it's a mistake I won't make again.