About this time, 1426, the even tenor of the prince's life was interrupted by the sudden and unexpected death of the destroyer of Tezcucan independence--the old king, Tezozomoc, at Azcapozalco, the Tepanec capital.
The government of this nation, and its subjugated provinces, would now devolve upon Prince Maxtla, the deceased king's son, who was looked upon as a very unscrupulous and dangerous man--more so, if possible, than was his father, whose rule had always been despotic and tyrannical, especially over his foreign vassals.
The servant retired with his master's message, and Itzalmo came soon after. Advancing before Hualcoyotl, the old vassal dropped on one knee in salutation.
"Arise, Itzalmo," said the prince, kindly. "You have requested speech with me. Hualcoyotl is pleased to grant any favor you may ask which is his to bestow. Of what would you speak?"
"Hualcoyotl, the prince, is very kind. If it please him, his servant would speak of the king."
"The king dead, you say? How came the news?"
Hualcoyotl's countenance took on a grave and thoughtful expression. After a short pause he remarked:
"Yes, Maxtla is already king," replied Itzalmo; "crowned by his father's hand--an event greatly to be deplored, surely; and well might we ask, O Prince, what will be the issue?"
"An inauspicious succession, good friend, to say the least; and one full of painful uncertainty," spoke the master; and, after a brief silence, he suddenly said; "Itzalmo, thou hast excellent command of thy knowledge--thou art wise; I would know what is in thy mind. What discernest thou in the old king's death? How will it effect our people's condition?"
"Hualcoyotl is the son of a noble father, and, like he was wont to do, gives his first thoughts to his people. Be assured, O Prince, that no good, but evil only, will come to Tezcuco from Maxtla. He is an unscrupulous prince, and hath not the fear of the gods in his heart. The oppressor's hand has been very heavy--the weight of it will not grow lighter; the shackles which bind us are galling--they will not be loosed." The old man's voice grew sadly eloquent. Raising his eyes and looking off as if in contemplation of his enthralled and unhappy country, he exclaimed: "Tezcuco, O Tezcuco! Thou art indeed distressed; and the end is not!"