The Discovery of Chocolate: A Novel. James Runcie

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      Cortés now began to tell the Cempaolans of our Christian belief. He explained that they must accept our faith and cleanse their souls of sin, trusting in the promises of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, who had been sent by God to redeem us from death and grant us eternal life.

      Bartolomé de Olmedo, the Mercedarian friar, now ordered that the whole town should take part in a Mass of Thanksgiving. The Cempaolans were given new Spanish names after the saints of our Church and christened in an enormous candle-lit ceremony. Eight Indian girls were then presented to the captains of our ships, who took them away for an altogether different kind of baptism.

      One of the girls walked up to me and touched my beard (which I had grown in an attempt to look swarthy). She wore a short skirt, but her chest was naked, and as she caressed my face I looked down and saw how close her breasts were to my bare arms. They seemed so full and round, so perfect and inviting, that I could only just restrain myself from touching them. I had always assumed that my thoughts of Isabella would remain pure and in the forefront of my mind and was somewhat surprised that, at the first sight of such beautiful women, I should find myself becoming so swiftly overcome by passion. Perhaps I had little resistance to beauty, and fidelity might not be one of my strongest characteristics?

      I sought out our friar, and confessed that my thoughts had become lustful and depraved. Although I was pledged to Isabella, it was difficult to love faithfully when I could no longer see the object of my heart’s desire.

      The friar answered that such ardent yearning for that which we cannot see should be redirected towards the love and promise of eternity offered by our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. I must stand firm and reject the snares of the devil.

      This was difficult, because at that moment a group of naked Indian women began to play a game of leapfrog outside our camp.

      ‘You see?’ I cried. ‘How can anyone avoid the temptation of such flesh?’

      ‘One must not think of these things,’ the friar answered firmly, placing his hands together inside his cloak.

      ‘But what can I do to assuage my lustful thoughts?’ I asked.

      ‘Think of St Agatha, who lost her breasts for our Lord.’

      I suddenly remembered a painting I had seen in Seville of a dark-haired woman holding a tray of pears. That was what they were.

      ‘You must have thought about St Agatha a very great deal,’ I observed.

      ‘Do not torment me,’ the priest replied distractedly, fumbling under his cloak. ‘It is a daily agony.’

      Perhaps he had a persistent itch, or was cleaning his dagger?

      ‘What must we do?’ I asked.

      ‘Look to the Lord,’ the friar replied, his voice rising in pitch. ‘Only look to the Lord.’

      His face was red; his eyes had a faraway look.

      Then he gasped.

      The man was of no help at all.

      I decided to go in search of Pedro for consolation. That was the point of a dog, I had always been told. They offered unquestioning loyalty.

      After calling his name several times, I found myself in a small turkey farm. By its side, penned in a small area, were several hairless dogs. Pedro spent a short time snapping and biting at their heels, and then selected a companion for what can only be described as a prolonged act of mating.

      All those around me were now involved in acts of lust and bestiality. Was I the only man who had resolved to keep himself pure for his beloved?

      

      After several days we moved on towards the town of Tlaxcala. These people had heard that we were on the march, and it soon became clear that they would not be so easily convinced of our divine status. They had vowed to put our mortality to an immediate test by killing as many of us as possible, their leader Xicotenga informing us that his idea of peace would be to eat our flesh and drink our blood.

      We were savagely attacked, and a bloody battle ensued. Pedro was terrified by the noise and I had never seen such slaughter. Our forces only just managed to hold to our formation in the face of some forty thousand warriors. If we had not possessed gunpowder I am sure that we would have been defeated.

      Cortés then dispatched messengers to ask for safe passage through their country, and threatened that if they did not agree to this we would be forced to kill all of their people. Exhausted by our bravery, and fearing a further attack, the Tlaxcalans finally surrendered. They bowed their heads, prostrated themselves before Cortés, and begged forgiveness.

      That night we attended a great banquet of turkey and maize cakes, cherries, oranges, mangoes and pineapple, served by the most comely women. After the meal the Tlaxcalans proceeded to display their treasures, some of which would be gifts, some of which we must trade. There were feather mantles, obsidian mirrors, silver medallions, and decorated purses I know Isabella would have treasured; gold saltcellars, gilded beads, wooden scissors, sewing needles, strings, combs, coats, capes and dresses. There were two small alabaster vessels filled with stones that must have been worth two thousand ducats, together with gilded masks, earrings, bracelets, necklaces and pendants.

      Yet still I saw nothing that was sufficiently unique to secure my love.

      At the end of the ceremonies Chief Xicotenga said to Cortés: ‘This is my daughter. She is unmarried and a virgin. You must take her and her friends as your wives. For you are so good and brave that we wish to be your brothers.’

      Cortés replied that he was flattered by the gift, but that he would be unable to partake of such hospitality since he was already married and it was not his custom to marry more than one woman.

      Then he looked at me.

      This was, indeed, a beautiful girl. I realised that the longer we stayed here the harder I would find it to resist such attractions. It was already difficult to recall Isabella’s voice, the fall of her hair, the light in her eyes, or the manner in which she walked. It was as if she only existed in her portrait, whereas these women were vibrant and alive, singing into the night sky, building fires, carrying water, and laughing gaily.

      It had been so long since I had heard a woman laugh.

      Cortés brought the woman over to me. ‘Take her,’ he ordered.

      I could not believe it. These people were so keen to give away their women. Surely this could not be right? How could I remain faithful now?

      I looked at Doña Marina.

      ‘Do as he says,’ she said.

      ‘But Isabella …’ I pleaded, ‘my betrothed …’

      ‘You will be the better prepared to love her …’ she continued, ‘and no one need know.’

      The girl led me into a small dark room with a low bed. A fire burned in the corner, and rose petals lay strewn around the floor.

      She took off her skirt and lay down on the bed, motioning me to do likewise.

      I did not know what to do, but began to remove my doublet. The girl pulled at my breeches and removed СКАЧАТЬ