Young Warriors Read Free Page A

generals and Lord Tayomam received my report one last time.
    â€œAnd why did you not come by the road?” asked Lord Tayomam.
    â€œI thought that the enemy might be watching the road,” I answered.
    Lord Tayomam nodded, gave the captain a brief glance, and then began to speak to the generals about their plans as if I were no longer there. The captain took me to a room where he gave me water, a gourd full of atole, and some tamals to eat. He left me.
    My work as a messenger was done for now. Later Baxmal and Chulchun would return as other watchers went to relieve them. I could go home.
    However, I couldn’t stop thinking about that feathered shield.
    I had crossed Rain Mountain most of the way and the owner had not shown himself. I was beginning to think that the feathered shield would not be mine after all. Then, suddenly, there he was on the path before me. “Where are you going this time?” he asked.
    â€œI bring a message to my brother,” I replied. It was true. I had asked my mother if she wanted me to tell Baxmal anything. “Yes,” she had said. “Tell him the wood he brought me for cooking won’t last half as long as he said it would. I need more!”
    The owner invited me to join him in his house and tell him all that I knew about the goings-on of men. He offered me a gift: a captain’s shield and the reputation to go with it.
    Captain! Oh, how wonderful it would be to lord it over my brother!
    The offered gifts just kept getting better!
    Better and better . . .
    â€œI thank you, Lord,” I said. “But I must continue and deliver my message.”
    The next time that he stopped me, the owner of Rain Mountain offered me a general’s cape. I almost took it. The third time, what he offered was the manikin scepter of Lord Tayomam’s line.
    I looked at the gift as he offered it. He held the scepter as if it were an ordinary stick of wood, not the emblem of divinity on earth inlaid with colored stones.
    â€œI am not of noble birth,” I said.
    â€œWith this,” the owner promised, “you would be.”
    I would be a ruler of men, the warrior above all warriors. The warrior in charge of a battle that was about to begin.
    I reached out to touch the scepter.
    But what did I really know about being a warrior, much less the commander of a city? My people were about to be attacked. Who was I to replace Lord Tayomam at such a time? Perhaps part of thinking like a warrior was also knowing one’s limits.
    â€œNo,” I said, withdrawing my hand. “Though your offer is most generous . . .”
    â€œYou are wise,” said the owner of Rain Mountain. “There is a greater prize yet than being a great lord of men. Do you want to know what it is?”
    What did I care now? I had pushed his offered gifts beyond the limit of what I could accept. “O Lord of the Mountain, tell me. Tell me what is greater than to rule over men.”
    â€œTo live in peace,” he said. He smiled. “Come, then, and visit with me awhile. Tell me the doings of men. Tell me about these messages you have carried. We will eat and drink and smoke. And then I will give you the gift of peace. City will not fight against city. There will be no raids, no sieges . . .”
    No glory for the warriors, I thought. No praise for the takers of captives.
    No risk of putting on armor, facing an enemy, and dying.
    Tears brimmed in my eyes. This was a thought I had kept hidden. I had almost hidden it from myself. Of course I had imagined that once I became a warrior, I would kill; I wouldn’t be killed. I would take captives; I wouldn’t be taken captive and sacrificed. Of course I would not be one of the many warriors who died.
    I knew that every young warrior must think this way.
    Some young warriors were wrong. Some died.
    Many died.
    The owner of Rain Mountain must have looked into my heart to see my thoughts. I said, “Really? I could live in