Meztli was always out of Atl's view as his climbed the stairs, always somewhere just around the corner. The Tlatoani's slippers padding just ahead but never visible. Atl thought on what he had seen. It was a display of power that was for sure, and as the Tlatoani Atl knew that Meztli posses a great deal of power, but there was something about the way in which it was displayed. Something in the very fact that the display itself was not grand or large, but int he very matter of fact way in which the Tlatoani had commanded the situation. The level of his power was visible in how little action was needed in order to control the situation.
Atl had no idea what had happened in the hallway, why none of the other prisoners had been talked to, or what he was doing there. But something had happened, something in the man's shouts had left him crying on the cell floor with a broken arm, casually discarded.
Atl emerged from the stairwell to the first floor where the guards stood huddled around the table and Meztli was speaking with the Cuextecatl.
"...I will send men down to attend to him at once Tlatoani."
"Good good." Meztli said. "Make sure that you get a good healer to fix him up. Ah Atl," Meztli tunred to look at Atl, his face back to that of an elderly man, not the same man who lad left Atl in the dungeon, "I need to find my quarters. Do you know where the officers are staying?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now please I do need my rest, would you mind taking me? I have a room set aside for me somewhere and I desperately need some sleep."
"Yes Tlatoani."
"And you as well Atl. You look as though you could fall asleep where you stand."
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