Rodriguez 1

River Rodriguez

Professor Elizabeth Newman

HIS 385.01

25 October 2020

Life in an Aztec City

“Did you hear? Texotli and Chichiltik are adulterers!” Sasanilli tells me on our walk

home. I widen my eyes in shock. Texotli is an unassuming man, and Chichiltik is a friend of my

wife’s. Well, I guess that “was” will turn into an “is”, after punishment is meted out.

“What were they thinking?” I say, shaking my head. “Texotli just got married last month,

and Chichiltik always seemed so happy with her husband.” Sasanilli just shrugs his shoulders.

“Poor fools,” I say after a pause, “So young to throw your life away. This is just like that

time Techichitl got caught drunk in the road. He was a judge, and even that didn’t save him from

the rope.”

Sasanilli sighs. “He could have just waited a bit too, his daughter was already seven

months pregnant, and she had twins!” He lets out a dark chuckle at the misfortune of it.

We are both silent after that, and do not look at one another. My thoughts are full of

stones, and fire, and rope, and screams. It is what must be done, of course. The laws are the laws,

after all, and where would we be without them? Without this, there would be chaos.

It is not until we get back to the complex that I look at Sasanilli again. We see a man,

slightly disheveled, walk out of the doorway, his eyes darting back and forth. He sees us, and

looks slightly startled, before regaining his composure. “Hello, citizens,” He greets us, his tone
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imperious and lordly. “I was informed that there were issues with part of your structure, but it

seems that all is well. Good night.” Without another word, he rushes off into the dark.

“Atoyatl,” Sasanilli says, still looking towards the direction of the man’s departure, “do

you have the faintest idea who that was?”

I scratch my head. The man was dressed a little nicer than Sasanilli and I, but not nearly

so well as a high-ranking soldier or one of the hereditary nobility. “A merchant, perhaps? But

then why would he be here to inspect our building?”

Sasanilli snaps his fingers. “Teocuitlatl! He’s a merchant. My wife buys trinkets from his

business all the time.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he was here,” I say. “He seemed awfully suspicious. You

don’t think he was here to rob someone, do you?”

“No, I really can’t imagine it. Teocuitlatl is important enough to have a two-storied

house, I can’t see ​him​ of all people needing to resort to thievery.”

Regardless, we agree that this is a mystery that isn’t in need of solving, and we go our

separate ways that night.

As I walk towards my quarters, I bump into Sasanilli’s wife, Istlakatini, who seems

startled to see me. “Oh, Atoyatl!” she says, her voice shaky. “I hadn’t realized you were back

already. Is Sasanilli with you?”

“No,” I reply, feeling uneasy for a reason I can’t quite pin down, “he went back to your

quarters. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just talking to your wife, catching up with her. That’s all.”

“And that, er, trinket in your hand?”

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She looks down, like she’s just realized she’s been holding it. “Oh, ha, this is just a

bauble I purchased from Teo- ah, from a merchant today. It’s nothing really, just a little gift. For

Sasanilli, that is!” she laughs, a little too loudly. “Anyways, I must be going now, have a good

night!” She runs off before I have a chance to say anything else, and I turn back, bewildered, to

my quarters. When I get there, I ask my wife if she’s seen Istlakatini at all today, and she just

shakes her head. “No” she says, “Tekipachoa was very ill today, so I helped to show her

daughter some weaving lessons. I only just got back. Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing,” I reply, and we speak no more of the matter during dinner. However, I

can’t escape this strange gnawing feeling deep in my stomach, and it is only as I drift off to sleep

that night that I realize what was bothering me.

Istlakatini’s hair was down when I saw her in the hallway, and I think I know why. I

think I know why Teocuitatl was here too. What should I do? Should I tell Sasanilli? I don’t even

have any real proof. But then, don’t I have a duty as a citizen to expose this crime? That’s why

the laws are in place, this is what must be done.

Isn’t it?

“Shame about Texotli and Chichiltik, isn't it?” Sasanilli says to me the next day. I just nod. My

face is still, but my thoughts are full of stones, and fire, and rope, and screams.