The Mayan Priest (36 page)

‘Your father’s made of tough stuff, Gillian, and we can’t be sure about Fred until we get there …’

‘That’s right,’ interrupted Georgio as he sat down next to them. ‘Although clearly, without your father plans, things have changed. Dale’s safety is of the utmost importance to this country, and the President himself has given me directives to treat his freedom as a priority.

Gillian’s mouth was agape. ‘What does that mean?’

Adam knew what her question meant. It was like a double-edged sword where she really wanted to know if the lives of her fiancé and friends were being abandoned for her father. How could she possibly choose between the two?

‘Sorry, Gillian. I have to find your father first,’ said Georgio.

‘So, why can’t we just send someone else into Tikal?’ asked Gillian.

‘We cannot afford to put more men at risk. The General’s kidnapping proves that Arun already knows Dale was onto him, so it goes without saying that they will torture him until he reveals all.’

Georgio looked uncomfortable. ‘This drug ring is far more widespread than even I had anticipated. Over 200 rich and extremely influential people are on the list and I have no idea who else is on the payroll. The truth is I do not trust anyone else to enter Tikal and take down Arun’s men. We could possibly tip off the wrong men who will undoubtedly warn Arun and the people on his payroll. If that happens, they’ll all go underground and we’ll never be able to break the ring, putting many thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of lives at risk.’

Gillian’s silence was deafening.

‘Gillian and I could go by ourselves,’ suggested Adam, wondering if his proposal was perhaps the most stupid thing he had ever said.

‘That’s silly, Adam. You’ll be putting your lives in danger unnecessarily,’ chastised Georgio.

‘No. I agree. We simply can’t just sit around and do nothing. At the very least, Adam and I can see what is going on and report back to you,’ said Gillian eagerly.

Adam was already regretting his hastily made comments.

Georgio did not argue, either from knowing that arguing with Gillian would be fruitless or that he actually thought it was a good idea.

Adam was speechless. At the very least, he had hoped that Georgio would argue and he would get the ‘good guy offering to help’ votes from Gillian, but instead he was off to the war zone. He was not in the least pleased, but there was no way he was going to let her down.

‘Come on, Gillian. Let’s open that box. We have one hour for you to read the next portion of Kinix’s journal.’

Gillian did not need any prompting to place the box in front of Adam.

‘This one has a small indentation that requires the insertion of a key, but for the life of me, I can’t see what would fit in that strange shape.’

‘Bloody hell, you’re good. I‘d forgotten about that,’ replied Gillian as she pulled the glittering object from her pocket and pressed it into the hollow. It was no surprise that it fit perfectly and the lid flipped open as if it had been made yesterday.

Inside the container lay a much larger scroll than previously, a walnut size ball inscribed with numerous tiny hieroglyphs on both sides and a sentence carved into the base.

Gillian studied the small plaque. ‘I presume this is the last key,’ she muttered as Adam nodded in agreement before pointing to the sentence.

Gillian smiled, requiring no prompting to translate: ‘My heart aches for those I do not have, but I can leave this for the ones born from my own.’

‘I’d love to know more about his life,’ murmured Adam as Gillian unrolled the script and began to read.

Manuscript part 3

All was quiet between Yok Chac and myself as we approached the final village before our entrance to Tikal. Word had spread of our approach and we were feeling particularly nervous about seeing the faces of those familiar to us after so many cycles of the haab. For me it was the face of my beloved King whom I longed to look upon and see the expression of joy as he viewed his new bride. After all, she was going to bring hope to our people.

Fear and excitement coursed through my body like an addictive illness as the farmers tending the crops gave up their work to line the road and cheer us by. This increased until the crowd was so dense that we were barely able to pass through and required the assistance of the army for safe passage. I felt like a king myself as Chac (rain god) also chose this momentous occasion to give us his blessing, causing an uproar of elation from the people. Their chants were akin to the birth or marriage of a royal family member. Even my usually sensible and level-headed friend, Yok Chac, was smiling like a newborn jaguar. Great celebrations abounded as the dancers, jugglers and musicians created their finest sounds until we eventually reached the steps of the great temple atop of which sat my king.

Bahlum Paw Skull did not smile, but I easily recognised the relaxed nature of his stature and the slight glint in his eyes … he was pleased.

‘Bring Lady K’in to me,’ ordered the King as Lady K’in ascended the stairs, gleaming in a beautiful white robe and glossy black hair that flowed down to her waist. It would have been a beautiful sight except for the stooped figure of Lady Hand who stood just behind her king. She would be divorced and replaced by Lady K’in in a ceremony less than seven kin from now and I was saddened for our fallen queen. She had been a good queen, only failed by a body that had a broken ch’ulel.

Bahlum Paw Skull studied the face of the woman who was to become his queen and was evidently thrilled. For the first time, he broke into a wide grin and took her hand, gesturing to the people his clear intentions. A roar unlike anything I’d ever heard before broke out and we all collapsed to our knees in reverence. Lady Hand was accompanied from the temple, leaving the intended queen to bask in the glory bestowed by her new people. It was the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.

Almost ten tun-uc cycles later, Tikal celebrated the birth of a baby girl given the name of Lady Tikal in celebration of this great city. I was not surprised that Bahlum Paw Skull chose to go against tradition by giving his daughter her adult name at birth. Custom commanded that all children be named after the kin they were born under until they came of age, at which time they would receive their adult identity, but the royalty did not need to abide by this law. Bahlum had only one heir and he wanted to ensure her title was bestowed immediately.

I was twenty-two cycles of the haab at that time and enjoying the veneration our journey had bought us. Both Yok Chac and I had reached the status of priest and teacher and our wisdom was sought by many learned men from all areas of our country. My king had also enlisted my assistance in the raising and tutoring of his daughter which was the ultimate honour and recognition of my skills and status.

Lady Tikal was a beautiful child. Her hair was the colour of a jaguar coat, her large almond eyes a rare blue like the summer sky and her skin a warm chocolate. She had a laugh that caused everyone around her to smile and a sensible but warm nature. Added to this was an intelligence that was unmatched by any female rival. As a child, Lady Tikal could effectively understand the haab, the tzolk’in (our sacred calendar) and the tun-uc (our moon cycle calendar). She was also fluent in our language and the understanding of our creation. Some likened her to Ix Chel, the first woman to become a priest and rainmaker, and the King was supremely pleased with her progress although it bothered him that Lady K’in did not bear him another child, in particular a son.

When Lady Tikal was three cycles of the haab, I was called in to check the health of Bahlum Paw Skull. He advised that he had been feeling poorly of late and further bloodletting by piercing his manhood to please the gods did not receive favour. I was greatly troubled by this turn of events because not only was his skin pale, but he was also losing weight. A further ritual involving the sacrifice of a young man to the gods and a further contribution of Bahlum’s sacred life-flow to allow him to join with the universe was performed. I was sure that this would be successful and for a short while, the King appeared to improve, but after two cycles of the moon, my fears increased. Once again I was called to the King’s elaborately adorned chamber to find him in his bed, bedecked in a crisp white gown and large gold band around his head.

I summoned the assistance of my mentor, Kin Kawil, who agreed with my diagnosis. Our king was no longer processing his food and the yellowing of his skin proved that his internal system was shutting down. The gods were wishing Bahlum Paw Skull to return to his true home among them and I knew that it would not be long. We delivered our news to the King, who expressed neither sadness nor surprise. He merely thanked me and pressed a large red stone into my palm as appreciation of my proficiency.

I was immediately stressed and in a state of panic. During the reign of Bahlum Paw Skull, Tikal had flourished in more ways than one. Food was bountiful, the people were happy and we had considerable affiliations with our neighbouring cities. This was all at risk. Who would run our great city? Lady Tikal was too young and there was no other royal member who had the favour of the gods. My concerns were suddenly so great that I hurried home to confide in Yok Chac and seek his wisdom, but I did not like what he revealed to me.

‘Yok Chac, my friend, our king is dying. Our world is about to change.’

There was no immediate reply. His fists were clenched and he looked to the ground in a manner I had seen many times before. He had something he wished to say but feared my reaction..

‘My dear friend, in all the years we have been together, surely you understand that sometimes I get carried away, but in reality I’m harmless.’

‘Understanding all the aspects of our society is very important,’ agreed Yok Chac before continuing, ’but I have also heard talk. Many people are saying that Kaloomte B’alam is planning on infiltrating the very soul of our world and may have already done so.’ Yok Chac paused momentarily. ‘It is even said that Bahlum Paw Skull’s own guards have been replaced with those loyal to B’alam.’

‘This cannot be so. Surely I would have noticed it.’ My fear had increased beyond what I had ever felt before.

‘I heard whispers this morning, so I took it upon myself to bribe the information from an old man with a jar of salt,’ replied Yok Chac.

‘What do we do?’ I asked my friend, all the while my mind working frantically. B’alam was possessed by Zotz, the god of darkness, and I could not possibly let him control Bahlum Paw Skull or Tikal would be passed in darkness.

‘You must see the King and discover his plans. You are still the most trusted priest and they have no reason to suspect that you have discovered the truth.’

‘As always, you are wise, my dear Yok Chac. I will go tonight!’

I waited until the moon had risen and ventured along the quiet outer dirt paths of our city. It was hot and sticky with little relief from any passing wind, but the occasional drop of rain eased my displeasure and forced most people indoors. I approached the palace with care before ducking through an arch along a paved path that led into the hillside. The dense undergrowth hid a secret door that allowed access to the King’s own chamber via a number of underground passageways. Initially built as a means of escape in the case of an emergency, the King often used it for obtaining pleasure from women. On many occasions I had caught the King in the midst of spreading his seed but had always prided myself on discretion. Today I used the secret door as a means to save our city.

I entered via a highly decorated wall that had been painted in such a way that the joins appeared to be concealed by overlapping panels. It was a masterpiece of disguise designed by Kin Kawil when he first arrived at Tikal. The door closed silently, allowing me to enter behind the King’s bed and study him unseen.

I was shocked by what I saw.

His ch’ulel had deserted him and his body was already preparing itself for life with the Gods. The outer shell of skin and bone had shrunken beyond recognition and changed colour from a glorious brown to a sickly yellow. Little of his trademark long black hair remained and what was left was matted and torn. I was devastated at the undeniable signs of his impending passing and even more distraught when his sunken eyes failed to recognise me. Tears rolled unashamedly down my face at the understanding that I would be forced to face life without my King in as little as three kin.

I moved to the bedside and took his brittle hand gently in mine.

‘My King, I shall look after your kingdom when you are gone. I understand that you will be watching us and I vow to do you proud,’ I whispered in his ear.

I stroked his head with affection and stood to leave when I felt his hand grasp mine with an unexpected strength. He pulled me to him, bringing his mouth in line with my ear. Bahlum’s voice was raspy and barely audible. It also carried a strange scent that I could not immediately place, but I put that aside as I concentrated on his faint words.