New Spain Mendoza walked steadily along the path leading toward high mountains in the west. He had traveled from the settlement of Vera Cruz for many days since leaving the ship that had brought him back to the New World. Despite the hard travel, he wasn't weary and was anxious to reach the city of Mexico. Though he traveled alone, Mendoza was not the only person on the road. Soldiers, merchants, adventurers, and rogues of every type were journeying along the route to the former Aztec capital. As they traveled into the high country, the nights grew colder and rain fell often. After one particularly miserable night, the young navigator bartered with a traveling merchant for a long dark gray cape, which helped keep out the rain and made a perfect blanket in the cool nights. The following night, the weary travelers gathered around a large campfire to warm themselves and exchange stories. Mendoza rested at the edge of the firelight, listening as they spoke. "We should reach Mexico City in three more days if we keep this pace," one old soldier said, his eyes fixed on the fire. "Méndez," one of the others said, addressing the soldier, "you have traveled to Mexico City before, haven't you?" "Yes, I first traveled there with Cortez himself. Then the city was called Tenochtitlan by the natives and Montezuma ruled over them." "What was it like?" someone called. "It is a place of unparalleled grandeur," Méndez reported. "As large as any of our great cities in Europe, it was built by the Aztecs on an island in the middle of a lake they call Texcoco. Three causeways span the lake whose waters support floating gardens and many boats. I was not there when the city was finally conquered but I have heard that much was laid waste in the battle." "But the city has been rebuilt, has it not," another traveler informed the party, "and a grand Cathedral has been raised over the site of the heathens bloody temple." Méndez nodded. "I have heard that Cortez created the plans for the new city himself. The Cathedral faces a large plaza at one corner of which Cortez has built himself a palace at the site of Montezuma's former residence." Someone snorted. "He certainly has set himself up as the King of this land." "And he gets a share of all treasure found. The King of Spain gets his fifth as does Governor Cortez!" "Not to worry, men," yet another voice called out. "This land is filled with wealth for all of us. Have you not heard of the Cities of Gold?!" The stories went on long into the night, yet even after all the other travelers had fallen asleep, Mendoza sat staring into the cinders of the campfire. Thinking. ***** Three days later Mendoza walked across one of the wide causeways that lead into the City of Mexico. The sky was a deep blue and the water of Lake Texcoco mirrored the brilliant color. The lake itself was in a great valley surrounded by mountains, some of which had plumes of smoke rising from their summits. The Spaniards had established themselves at the center of the city, while the Indians were pushed to the outer edges of the Mexico City. Mendoza's curiosity drew him into the heart of the city where the new Cathedral and the great plaza were under construction. Despite the destruction of the Aztec Empire, the city was coming back to life like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and the palace was the center of it all. To his great surprise, Mendoza was allowed into the palace as Governor Cortez was granting encomiedas, allowing the poeple of the city to make requests of him, and managing his empire. The conquistador had changed little from the time Mendoza had known him in Cuba. The Governor's frame was lean yet supple and strong. The sun had darkened his face and his hair and beard were still as black as soot. His gaze was keen and piercing like that of a conqueror. The Navigator waited patiently as Cortez saw to the affairs of New Spain. Finally, most of the petitioners departed as business concluded. Cortez was about to depart when Mendoza called out, "Governor Cortez!" The Governor paused and looked back over his shoulder toward the source of the hail. "Well, well," he said spotting Mendoza. "I didn't think to ever meet you again." "I am surprised you even remember me, Governor," Mendoza said, walking over to where Cortez stood. Cortez smiled coolly. "I never forget a face, Señor . . . Mendoza wasn't it?" The young navigator bowed in acknowledgment. "Your memory is excellent, Governor." "My Lord has learned never to forget his friends," said a voice from the direction of the palace. The soft voice of a woman. Cortez smiled as Mendoza turned to see who had spoken. A young Aztec woman stood in the entryway of the audience chamber. And she was the loveliest thing the young navigator had ever seen. "Mendoza," the Governor said gesturing to the woman, "may I introduce Doña Marina."   Who is this woman? And what role will she play in Mendoza's life. Find out in Chapter 3: Doña Marina.