The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) (11 page)

BOOK: The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque)
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“A role for me?” gasped Uc Ayin. His hands shook as he lifted the cup to sip, hoping the peppery drink would clear his mind.

“Let me cut to the central issue. Usihwitz is allied now with Kan, the most powerful polity our region has ever seen. Uneh Chan, K’uhul Ka’an Ahau, has ambitions to dominate this region south and west of the K’umaxha River. Already Usihwitz, Pa’chan, Pakab, and Yokib have formed alliances with Kan. The strength of Kan reaches far to the south with its ties to Uxwitza and their mutual defeat of Mutul. Kan plans to form an empire, and the next target is Lakam Ha. Once Lakam Ha falls, the other cities in the B’aakal polity will succumb to the power of Kan. Tribute and wealth will flow to Kan and its allies.”

Uc Ayin stared, shocked and confused.

“How can I possibly have a role in such power struggles among cities?”

Ek Chuuah glanced around, signaling to keep voices low.

“You possess a piece of information that is key to the Kan attack on Lakam Ha,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Information that I do not have, despite my years in your city. With this information, the plan to defeat Lakam Ha is certain to succeed.”

“Surely you are mistaken. What could I possibly know that is helpful to warriors? Even if this is true, why should I give you information to defeat my city? You are thinking of that ill-fated conspiracy many years ago. I was never in favor of it, and did not stay to learn all your plotting. Those that knew are all dead now. There is no reason for me to be part of another plot against Lakam Ha.” Uc Ayin’s whisper was more of a hiss.

“There is a very good reason for you to join with us,” retorted Ek Chuuah. “Why are you still alive, when all other plotters from Lakam Ha were killed? Because you fled to stay here with your sister. Are you surprised that I know this? I know many things. I know how to destroy your current life in Lakam Ha, or…”

Ek Chuuah let this threat hang heavily in the air between them. He slowly lifted his cup and drained the thick liquid in several swallows. Setting the cup down and wiping the back of a hand across his lips, he shifted into a relaxed, open posture.

“Let us not become antagonists. In truth, our interests are aligned. You are not satisfied with life in Lakam Ha, is this not so? Your ruler is weak and distracted and lacks inspiration, and even though you are in his close circles you find this discouraging. It is time for major change; change for you and for Lakam Ha. Your help in accomplishing these changes will lead to a new, promising life for you in Usihwitz or another city in the Kan alliance. You can begin anew, without the set attitudes your colleagues now hold. Uneh Chan will owe you a huge favor, and he wields influence widely. Consider this well, Uc Ayin… what do you owe Aj Ne Ohl Mat and Lakam Ha? Would not a new life well-positioned with support from the most powerful men in the region outweigh any such obligation?”

Embers sparked as Ek Chuuah added wood to the hearth fire. Smoke wafted lazily around the two men, wrapping them together like floating rope. Uc Ayin stared into the nascent flames, watching them come to life, grow and dance. Mesmerized, he observed a flicker of hope kindle inside him, the image of his new persona emerging as a sudden flame. It was possible, it could happen; he could have a new life. A satisfying life.

“What must I do?” he whispered, nearly inaudible. But Ek Chuuah heard and smiled.

“Tell me one thing, a closely guarded secret among the upper elite in the ruler’s confidence at Lakam Ha. I am certain that you know this, because you are close to Aj Ne Ohl Mat. Where is the entrance into the Sak Nuk Nah?”

“The White Skin House? Did you not know when you lived in Lakam Ha?”

“No. Remember my status there; my family was not among the higher echelon.”

“How will this knowledge serve the Kan attack?”

“It is critical to our success. Simply an attack to destroy structures, take captives and loot the city’s coffers is not Kan’s goal. Our goal is to break the portal that connects Lakam Ha with the Triad Deities, to desecrate this sacred space, so they cannot provide gifts and sustenance to the gods. Then the gods will no longer support B’aakal, and the power of the Bahlam dynasty will be ended. Lakam Ha will be axed, chopped down, brought low never to resurge again. To accomplish this goal, we must know how to enter the Sak Nuk Nah quickly.”

Ek Chuuah’s voice trembled with passion. Uc Ayin stared blankly as if not comprehending, his eyes wide and unblinking. He also trembled, but from fear.

“Desecrate the Sak Nuk Nah? Destroy the portal to the Triad Deities? Surely I would be struck dead by the gods for being part of such a horror!”

“No, understand this well, Uc Ayin.” Ek Chuuah spoke deliberately, each word falling as a prophetic stone from his lips. “There are deities more powerful than the Triad, I have encountered them, and they guide us in this attack. We have secured the assistance of the Death Lords through a devastating spell created by Kan’s most accomplished shaman. You have no idea of the forces that will be called into play, forces that will overcome any other deities. Your life is in greater danger if you remain loyal to Lakam Ha, and not just from warriors. Their curse will fall upon you for not cooperating. You will die a thousand horrible deaths in Xibalba, and never escape.”

Uc Ayin was terrified. He thought Ek Chuuah looked like a Death Lord himself, the fire etching every line in his face with dark shadows while red flames glowed on his cheekbones and lightning sparked from his eyes. Drawing his lips taut over his large teeth filed into points with jade insets, Ek Chuuah’s mouth seemed huge as the Witz Monster maw that opened to caves leading into the Underworld. Hypnotically the monstrous mouth moved forming words that Uc Ayin felt as vibrations more than heard.

“Tell…me…the… location… of… the… entrance.”

Teeth chattering, Uc Ayin could hardly form the answer he was compelled to give. All volition had been sucked away by the Underworld forces emanating through Ek Chuuah. With clacking noises from chattering teeth punctuating his words like a stone-carver’s mallet, Uc Ayin gasped the answer.

“It… it is in the Ix Chel Temple, in a storage structure…you enter from a chamber within the Temple. The door is concealed behind a… a panel with… Ix Chel’s serpent carved on it. The panel swings open leading to a stairway… goes down into a tunnel…to the sacred shrine underground.”

Uc Ayin burst into a bout of coughing and sputtering, his body wracked with intense tremors. Ek Chuuah firmly placed a hand on each of the trembling man’s shoulders, squeezing and willing him to be calm. Eyes locked, the men stared in silence. Ek Chuuah smiled and nodded, resuming again the guise of an aging human.

“This is well done, brother. When you are able, let us discuss more details. You are one of us now, in the great alliance of Ka’an polity. It is best that you remain in Sak Tz’i with your sister. Send word back with your paddler that your sister is ailing and needs your assistance indefinitely. The attack is planned for the dry season, only a few moon cycles from now. Stay here, remain silent, and you will be safe.”

2

The dry season arrived near the time of spring equinox, when the sun reached halfway in its journey along the horizon from the position farthest north to its southerly point. The jungle came to life as rains diminished and longer sunlight warmed treetops and soil. Rivers began to flow more gently and currents became less dangerous, encouraging travel and trade once again. Farmers burned dead corn stalks and plowed the carbonized nutrients back into the fields to mingle with rich muddy sediment deposited by over-flowing rivers during the heavy rains. The people of the mountain cities brought their lives outdoors, glad to cook and clean and gather in plazas instead of staying inside their stone residences.

Sak K’uk strolled in the interior courtyard of her chambers at the palace, face lifted to the sun’s warmth. Tender yellow-green leaves sprouted from ficus trees and buds swelled on hibiscus bushes, soon to unfold their opulent yellow and red blossoms. She smiled at various bird calls: the sibilant vocalizations with trills and twitters of the azure tanager, the metallic
plihk
or soft
hu-oi
of the yellow-white-black grosbeak, the high thin
tsiu
or
tseeip
of the lovely pink warbler. Looking quickly at the treetop, she sighted the tiny warbler with its silvery-pink head and chest, dark red back and brown eyes. From an adjoining courtyard that served the royal kitchens came the bongo-like bass tones of male ocellated turkeys, calls which quickened and rose to a crescendo, followed by a high-pitched but melodious series of chops.

She was glad that the dry season had arrived after a long period of extremely heavy rainfall. It had been a difficult season for her, not simply because of the weather, but rife with family conflict. Her personal frustration over the lack of purpose in her life added an undercurrent of dissonance. Her strong will and leadership abilities could find no suitable outlet since she avoided the Council House and court and had given over her son’s training to the High Priest. Gathering with her women courtiers to weave and paint on gourds and ceramic pots failed to provide enough challenge to satisfy her. Surely her parents had trained her for greater things, and her ultimate destiny must be more than being a secondary member of the ruling family.

Now she felt happy, however, because early the coming morning she was to meet with the High Priest Pasah Chan for an update on her son’s training. And what made her happiest was anticipating a visit with Pakal, the sun-faced-K’inich who always brought joy and the sun’s warm glow with his presence.

The footsteps of her steward echoed before him as he approached through the long corridor between the entrance and her courtyard. She looked up quizzically, not expecting anyone for audience today. He bowed low and spoke softly. “My Lady, your esteemed husband Kan Mo’ Hix approaches to speak with you.”

Sak K’uk frowned slightly then signaled acceptance to her steward, but before he could turn around her visitor entered the courtyard. Giving a slight shrug and apologetic smile, the steward left. Kan Mo’ Hix was not known for his politeness.

She offered her husband her hand and their fingers met momentarily as he nodded slightly then strode restlessly across the courtyard, returning to face her. Clearly he was agitated. She did not bother to invite him to sit on a mat.

“What troubles you?” she asked.

“Your brother, our illustrious ruler, has completely taken leave of his wits!”

She laughed softly. “Have you not said this before? What particular foolishness has he accomplished?”

“The dry season is upon us. Chakab as Nakom-War Chief wants to begin warrior training and conduct mock field battles. It is some time since our men have seen any serious battle preparations. They are becoming soft, slack from easy living. Our defenses are weakened and we live in uncertain times. Does this not sound reasonable to you? To conduct battle training?” Kan Mo’ Hix spoke so forcefully that the veins on his neck stood out.

“Yes, you speak wisely. This sounds both reasonable and necessary. What is the problem? I assume Aj Ne is creating a problem.”

“Aj Ne is both stupid and a complete fool! He does not support Chakab in his desire to train the warriors. He has other more important things in mind! Lakam Ha cannot spare the men for battle training because he needs them to organize a grand festival of arts for all the cities of B’aakal. The warriors must travel to other cities to bring his summons and organize groups for travel and supervise building a new structure for these performances and keep order in Lakam Ha during this arrogant folly! What is he using for a mind? He will put our city at risk, keep us vulnerable and less able to defend ourselves, to give himself a platform for self-aggrandizement.” He stopped to catch a breath, shaking his head vigorously.

“The Council in the Popol Nah is giving support for Aj Ne’s plans?”

Kan Mo’ Hix sighed and spread his hands.

“They argue and discuss and take issue but there is no solid core of agreement. Never have I seen the council so disjointed, so unable to deal with the real issues. Although Aj Ne frequently is absent, when he does appear he carries the weight of the K’uhul Ahau and few are willing to stand in direct opposition of his wishes. He reasons that as May Ku, it is our responsibility to host cultural and ceremonial events. Your father and I argued along with Chakab about the importance of shoring up our defense capacity, but it has been too long since we faced attack. Many are lulled into belief that these are times of peace and we have no need to prepare. Our lack of information hampers our arguments; we cannot reliably report on what plots may be afoot in polity cities.”

“Aj Ne has a point. Our responsibility as the May Ku city for this cycle – the central city for religious and social activities in B’aakal – mandates that Lakam Ha should organize such events.”

“Do you defend this foolishness? Take his side against the wise reasoning of your father and the Nakom? I am disappointed in you,” shot Kan Mo’ Hix, eyes glaring.

“This I do,” Sak K’uk retorted with heat. “What I do is take the side of truth and right. What I say about our May Ku duties is only what is true, and you know it.”

“Hrumph! Aj Ne cannot conduct authentic ritual; you saw that at the last katun ceremonies. The only deities that act through him are the Alux tricksters! And we are the ones to suffer from their nasty pranks.”

Sak K’uk was torn between acknowledging the truth of her husband’s criticisms, and the desire to give support to her brother in his role as K’uhul Ahau.

“What good is this? Aj Ne is our K’uhul Ahau, our link with the Triad Deities. What would you have?”

“Better leadership, have I not said so many times? And now, this new foolishness that will only lead us into greater danger. Surely you see this, Sak K’uk.”

“Truly am I sad over this,” admitted Sak K’uk. She decided that arguing with her husband was pointless. “What you say is well advised. We should not quickly forget the attack from Usihwitz and Pakab. What information we do have points toward Kan becoming ever more aggressive, and this could be dangerous for us.”

BOOK: The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque)
9.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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