THE HISTORICAL SETTING

Like its predecessor Servant of the Underworld, Harbinger of the Storm is set in late fifteenth-century, near the apex of the Mexica (Aztec) Empire. Unlike its predecessor, it is far more concerned with the political intrigues of the court. The Mexica Empire had a very peculiar, semi-hereditary system of leadership, as evidenced in this book. We don’t have many records of how the deliberations went, but I suspect they were much shorter and less protracted than in the book, as the next Revered Speaker was often chosen in the wake of the funeral for the latest.

Though the choice was theoretically between all members of the imperial family, the eleven Revered Speakers the length of the Mexica Empire were mostly chosen from the brothers of the previous title-holder or from those of fraternal descent – ¬ if they weren’t the brother of the previous one, they were a nephew or great-nephew. The She-Snake, who could claim a line of descent from the brother of Moctezuma I (the Revered Speaker before Axayacatl) would have been an unlikely but possible candidate, particularly if Tizoc-tzin had been found unworthy. Xahuia’s son would have been a possibility also, but still more unlikely. Ironically, the second-best candidate would have been Teomitl, as Manatzpa himself proposes, though he would have been considered very young for the position. Five years later, when Teomitl acceded in turn to the Turquoise-and-Gold Crown, the annals note that he was specifically chosen for his youth and dynamism.

 

I took some other liberties with the setting. I added Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, to the duo of High Priests at the apex of religious hierarchy (the histories mention both the High Priest of the Southern Hummingbird and that of the Storm Lord). And you will probably have guessed that Teomitl’s planned first marriage with Mihmatini is entirely fictional as well. In reality, as Acatl mentions, the first marriage would have sealed a diplomatic alliance. It’s not impossible that it would have involved one of Nezahualtzin’s sisters or daughters, giving these two a further reason to remember each other.

The town of Texcoco plays a large part in this book. By 1481, the Triple Alliance formed between Tenochtitlan, Texcoco and Tlacopan was mainly spearheaded by the first two cities. The inhabitants of Texcoco were actually the Acolhuas (just as the inhabitants of Tenochtitlan are the Mexica), but I stuck with “Texcocans” so as not to muddy the waters in a book already loaded with characters and factions.

The gardens Acatl, Teomitl and Nezahual-tzin visit in the course of chapter 18 are those of Texcotzingo. They were built by Nezahual-tzin’s father and dedicated to the god Tlaloc, and were said to be a true wonder, though very little remains of them today.

Teotihuacan, the Birthplace of the Gods, plays a particular role in Mexica mythology. the ruins of the rich civilisation which had built it were mistaken by the Mexica as the work of the gods. The huge pyramids were deemed to be the tombs of the gods, who had given their lives at the beginning of the age so that the Fifth Sun might rise (hence the renaming of the central alley as the Alley of the Dead). By the 15th Century, Teotihuacan had become a centre for pilgrimages – the ruins fenced off by a great wall, while the bustling, new city was further west.

Nezahual-tzin is actually Nezahualpilli-tzin (his name means the Fasting Prince/the Hungry Prince, and the name of his father, Nezahualcoyotl, means the Fasting Coyote). I shortened it for ease of reading. Nezahual-tzin is best remembered in Aztec history as a canny old sorcerer ; it was he who prophesied to Moctezuma II the arrival of strangers from beyond the seas, though he did not live to see the Spanish arrive. Aside from his mysterious powers (which I attributed to Quetzalocatl, god of Wisdom and Knowledge), Nezahualtzin is mainly remembered for the size of his harem (around

2000 concubines, and 144 children), and for his unbending sense of fairness. He executed his own son for adultery, and one of his Mexica concubines for multiple murders, almost sparking a Mexica-Texcocan war. Many historians, including Nigel Davies, have suspected Nezahual-tzin of being less than eager to wage war, preferring to stay at home and indulge in the luxury of his palace, which would have annoyed Ahuizotl, a strategist always eager to campaign with his soldiers.

The interplay between Ahuizotl/Teomitl and his brother Tizoc is, again, the stuff of speculation. What we do know about Tizoc is that he had the shortest and most lacklustre reign of the Mexica Emperors. His coronation war was a dismal failure, and his reign one series of mediocre campaigns after another. There is a hypothesis that his death after only five years of rule was the work of sorcerers, possibly in the pay of his over-eager brother Ahuizotl. What he is best remembered for is for starting a large-scale rebuilding of the Great Temple, which would later be completed by his brother and successor Ahuizotl, a dedication mainly remembered for the scale of human sacrifices offered at this occasion, as if to truly make clear the Empire’s domination, or to imprison again a great goddess…

As to the occult stuff… The disk that Acatl and Teomitl discover underneath the Great Temple in chapter 2 is a much larger version of an existing work of art which lay at the feet of the pyramid; each sacrifice would tumble down the steps and come to rest on the dismembered image of She of the Silver Bells, re-enacting the Southern Hummingbird’s primal sacrifice and sealing again the alliance of the Mexica with their tribal god.

It’s also worth noting that although we do not know the exact date of Axayacatl’s death, we do know that it was the same year as a total eclipse of the sun – which, to a culture so obsessed with the warrior sun, would have been a disaster, a sign that the Fifth Sun/the Southern Hummingbird were withdrawing their favour or losing their power against the forces of the night. I chose to have a (sudden) solar eclipse happen at the tail end of chapter 21, as Tizoc, the anointed Revered Speaker, dies torn by a star-demon, a sign that the gods have indeed abandoned the Mexica Empire.

 

Other date-related tidbits: the year Two House is of particular significance, since it would have been the anniversary year of the foundation of the Empire, which had also started in a year Two House (1325), a round number of “bundles of years” (or fifty-two-year intervals, the Aztec equivalent of centuries in terms of significance). Just as the Christians were afraid the world would end at the turn of the first millennium, so the Aztecs would have been worried as such as a juncture approached. This is one of those bonuses I didn’t actually plan for, but which was pretty cool to find out.

The idea for the heartland comes from the Mexica migration myth, which sees them wandering in the marshes for generations until they finally reach the bountiful place promised to them by their god. Depending on the version of this myth, the Mexica either come from Atzlan (“the White Place”, from which comes the name “Aztec”) or from one of seven caves at Chicomoztoc. The description of this mythical place, where the Southern Hummingbird still dwells, was drawn from the inspiration for this journey in the annals of Diego Durán. Under the reign of Moctezuma, sages go on a journey back to the heartland to find their god, and are berated for losing sight of their humble origins. Most of those myths are conflated together within Acatl’s delirium in chapter 23 – he sees the seven caves, as well as the flight of the herons which are said to be plentiful in Atzlan, and the woman sweeping the floor with a broom of femurs is Coatlicue, the Earth Goddess who is the Southern Hummingbird’s mother (and who fell pregnant with him while sweeping the floor of a mountain temple).