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).