The Goldsmith's Daughter by Tanya Landman Read Free Book Online Page B

were they?”
    â€œOn the sea. In the land of the Maya. Great white pyramids, moving across the water.”
    I related Mayatl’s words to my father when he ate, but he grunted scornfully. “Travellers’ tales, from men who have eaten too many mushrooms. Pay no heed.”
    And yet the rumours did not go away, but multiplied until the city swarmed with them. It was impossible to go to market – impossible to venture anywhere – without hearing stories that grew more elaborate with each passing day.
    â€œThey say beasts half man, half deer have trodden on the distant shore.”
    â€œThe Mayans speak of their magical powers.”
    â€œThey have a great pole that makes a noise as loud as thunder! With one blast it will fell a tree!”
    â€œDestroy a mountain!”
    â€œWipe out an army!”
    Unease soured the air, making each indrawn breath taste bitter on the tongue. I could scarcely believe such far-fetched imaginings, yet my own heart stirred with a strange excitement at hearing these stories. They were so like the inventions that Mitotiqui and I had dreamt up as children, I could not resist their appeal. I relished their tang, as I savoured the spicy heat of chilli, and I repeated them at each mealtime to entertain my family. But my brother was morose and sullen, and my father dismissive.
    â€œStrangers are amongst the Maya,” I ventured.
    â€œStrangers?” My father gave a wry laugh. “How could any distinguish a stranger in that land? Who could be more peculiar than a Mayan?”
    I smiled briefly at his remark. The Mayans flattened the foreheads of their babies from birth, and hung beads above their cradles so that their eyes grew crossed. Certainly this race looked alien and exotic to the eyes of those from Tenochtitlán.
    And yet I persisted. “They say the strangers have pale skin. At the market the talk is of little else.”
    â€œWomen must always have something to gossip about, Itacate. They pile untruth on untruth until they have made a monster of nothing. There can be no such strangers. It is not possible. Our emperor rules the whole world. Where could they come from? It is folly even to think such a thing could happen.”
    Thus dismissed, I said no more about the matter. Not to my father. But with Mayatl I talked until my tongue was dry. The tales lingered in my head and I could not be free of them. I put them aside only when my father made a proposal that drove all thoughts of strangers far from my mind.

M y father wished me to work alongside him as his apprentice. He was ageing, and though his eyes were well able to view distant objects, he struggled to focus on what was close to his face. The small detail of the objects he crafted had become increasingly blurred and hazy.
    There was great danger in yielding to his wish. To step outside our city’s conventions could bring misfortune or even death. If a merchant offended the nobility by mimicking their style of dress, he could be condemned to slavery. If a common man drank the intoxicating pulque reserved for priests and nobles, he could be executed. I knew not what penalty might be inflicted on a father who allowed his daughter to aid his work, or on a girl who agreed to help him, but had no doubt that it would be severe. It was vital that I work in secrecy; I could tell no one. Not Mayatl. Not even Mitotiqui. They must think my father required my company, nothing else.
    I had already left off my kitchen tasks, but now the remainder of my domestic duties were passed to a grumbling Mayatl. Daily I crossed the threshold of my father’s chamber, passing through it to the rear courtyard, and across that to his workshop. It was a journey of a few short steps, but how far it took me from my old life! My heart joyed to have constant access to a room of such wonders, even as it sorrowed to keep this secret from my brother.
    To begin with, my father had simply wished for a helper to grade