The New Tenochtitlán Dispatch

AlternateHistory

September 12, 1742 To the Most Excellent Council of the Indies, Madrid. Your Excellencies, I have the honor to report my arrival at the port of the New Tenochtitlán. The city is a monstrosity of stone and water. Where one might expect the orderly streets of a colonial capital, there are instead vast canals and causeways of white lime. The skyline is dominated by three colossal pyramids of volcanic rock; they are so immense that they seem to lean over the harbor, blotting out the sun for hours each afternoon. Regarding the protocol of the court, I find the requirements to be most irregular. Upon my landing, I was not greeted by a governor, but by a delegation of priests draped in the plumage of exotic birds. I was informed that my presence was permitted only after I underwent the Purification of the Four Winds. This process required me to remain motionless in a courtyard of obsidian for the duration of a full lunar cycle (which the locals measured by a water clock of tedious precision). I have endeavored to maintain the poise befitting a representative of His Catholic Majesty. However, the Tlatoani insists that all diplomatic correspondence be written upon strips of bark paper and delivered while the emissary is kneeling. I have complied with these demands to avoid a breach in relations, though I find the physical posture to be an affront to my station. The wealth of this place is undeniable: the markets overflow with gold, cocoa, and jade. Yet, the administration is governed by a ritualism that borders on the pathological. Every gesture, from the angle of one's head to the timing of a sneeze, is codified. I spent four hours yesterday arguing the correct precedence of my cloak in relation to the High Priest's pectoral. I remain your humble and exhausted servant, Don Alvaro de Mendoza