Treasure of the Mayan King (2012) (6 page)

Dr. Sova laughed. “The mention of Xibalba is the clue and I think I can venture to say that I may have figured out how the word was meant to be understood.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“Xibalba is not only the god of the underworld, but the underworld itself. The Maya believed that caves were the entrance to the underworld, and the same word, Xibalba, was used to refer to both of them. So our sly King Chac used a double meaning once again, this time to point to the destination. King Chac’s vast fortune is hidden inside of a cave!”

“So, have we found it?” Chauncy mused with a slight hint of sarcasm.

Dr. Sova laughed again. “I wish it was that easy. Do you know how many caves are in Palenque? Tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands! An army of men could spend their entire lives digging and searching and would not be able to uncover them all, let alone find the right one.”

All Chauncy could manage was a deflated, “Oh.” They had been so close.

“But fear not, my good friend. The key to the cave is right here, in this riddle! Somehow we must figure out how the sun-god and the winged serpent point to the right cave, and we will have discovered King Chac’s treasure! We must study the entire message again and see if we can find any more clues.”

Days passed, and Chauncy was indeed becoming fluent in the Mayan language. When Dr. Sova would occasionally leave the hacienda on business, the two of them would communicate via hand written letters in their own Mayan Code they had invented. The code consisted of picture-graphic Mayan symbols. Chauncy found it sharpened his abilities to distinguish the difficult shapes of the Mayan hieroglyphs.

He was consistently amazed by Dr. Sova’s extraordinary mental abilities. It seemed that the doctor’s mind never rested, and regardless of the time of day, Dr. Sova was always alert, always “on,” analyzing everything, never missing even the smallest of details. He had an excellent grasp of science, history, and of course, languages. Every morning he would keep himself abreast of the current events of the world via the Internet, and afterwards he would immerse himself in the study of the Mayan hieroglyphs that had been discovered on the steps of Temple #22.

However, as with all men, Dr. Sova had faults, which eventually came to light. Chauncy noticed several idiosyncrasies and habits that were beginning to irritate him. First of all, there was the constant cigar smoke that hung around the house. Chauncy, a non-smoker, was finding it hard to breathe inside the hacienda. Then there were the daily disparaging remarks about his fellow man. According to Dr. Sova, the majority of mankind were fools and buffoons, especially the uneducated and poor.

Chauncy found this highly offensive, since he felt everyone had their place in human society. As long as they did no harm to one another, he had no problem dealing with all types of people in an amicable manner.

But of all the doctor’s failings, one would be his undoing: gambling. Chauncy found it difficult to understand how such a brilliant man could even consider it. Many times, in between teaching sessions, the man would disappear from the hacienda for many days.

And when confronted by Chauncy the arguments always ran on the same theme. Chauncy would berate him. “Really, Doc! How could you fall for such folly, you of all people?”

And Dr. Sova would answer in the usual manner, throwing his hands up in a disdainful manner. “Bah! You do not understand, Chauncy. The mind needs diversion.”

“But the odds are stacked against you! Every casino is rigged in their favor!”

“I understand your argument my friend. But I do win at times. Let’s just say I’m addicted to dopamine.”

Chauncy never won the arguments. Dr. Sova’s distraught wife would mope around the house, for she was well aware of what was occurring. It was the same gloomy expression that Chauncy had noticed when he first met her. However, now he understood the reason.

One day, when Dr. Sova was off on one of his gambling forays, Chauncy was coming back to the hacienda from one of his regular meditative strolls in the jungle. He had developed the habit of taking leisurely walks to refresh his mind and practice the Mayan language. Something about the area was conducive to thought. Perhaps it was the presence of nature everywhere around, with no cars or smog to befuddle the mind.

As he approached the hacienda he spotted Miguelito sitting under the shade of a large Ficus tree. Chauncy felt the impulse to practice some of his newly learned Mayan words with the old Indian. He felt confident that he was now becoming proficient in the native tongue, enough to possibly converse with Miguelito.

However, when Chauncy got nearer to the old man, he came to an abrupt halt when he understood what Miguelito was chanting.

“K” inich Aha, Quetzalcoatl, K” inich Aha, Xibalba.”

Chauncy felt a shiver run up and down his spine. “It’s the Mayan code from Temple #22!” he whispered as he heard the words flowing again from Miguelito’s mouth. “How in blazes does he know the words?”

“K” inich Aha, Quetzalcoatl, K” inich Aha, Xibalba.”

“Where did you learn those words, Miguelito?” It was an effort for Chauncy to get the Mayan words out, but he managed it.

There was no response from Miguelito, so Chauncy switched to Spanish and asked him the same question: “Donde aprendistes esas palabras?”

“He has been eavesdropping on both of you!” a voice said from behind him.

Startled, Chauncy spun on his heel to see Marie Sova leaning on the railing of the covered porch, the same cheerless expression on her face.

“Ah! Mrs. Sova, you startled me.”

“Miguelito has a bad habit of eavesdropping,” she answered.

Chauncy thought it was rather ironic - he was going to comment how she also had been doing the same, but he decided to keep silent.

Mrs. Sova continued. “He stands by the study window while you and my husband discuss the Mayan language. We are not sure how much he understands, but I believe he simply likes to hear others speaking his native language.”

Embarrassed for not realizing it Miguelito’s presence himself, Chauncy turned to him and spoke to him in Spanish. “Shame on you, you should respect other people’s privacy.”

The old Mayan Indian simply continued chanting the Mayan code as spittle dripped down his chin. Chauncy immediately regretted speaking harshly to an old man who probably didn’t understand the concept of privacy. Leaving him, Chauncy walked over to the hacienda.

“What is troubling you, Mrs. Sova?” Chauncy asked. He wanted to hear her side of the story, as well as distance himself from the encounter with Miguelito.

Marie turned to look at Chauncy, and for a moment he was taken back by the sheer sadness in her eyes. She spoke quietly, Chauncy straining to understand past her thick French accent.

“Oh, Mr. Rollock, my husband is in debt again. It’s that demon gambling habit of his. It will be the ruin of him, and us!”

“Why is he so obsessed?”

“It is because he thinks he is Superman, that is why. He claims he can overcome anything. Oh, Mr. Rollock, please talk some sense into that man. I fear that his gambling is out of control.”

Chauncy assured Marie that he would do what he could. But when Dr. Sova returned, it was business as usual. Once they became immersed in their studies, the subject was never brought up. And it wasn’t due to any negligence on his behalf. There were many reasons for his reluctance in dealing with this problem. The chief one being that Chauncy was keenly aware of the futility of trying to argue with Sova. There was also the sticky situation of being involved between the two and having to take sides. Yet it bothered his conscience to remain silent, so he had made his mind up to reason with him one more time.

When Dr. Sova returned from another gambling foray, he found Chauncy in his study reading a book about the indigenous people.

There was a large smile on Dr. Sova’s face. “Chauncy!” he nearly bellowed, “I have excellent news! The crew in Palenque has found the sarcophagus. It is now time to show the world that King Chac does exist. Did I not tell you that his remains would be within the temple?” Dr. Sova pointed to his head in his usual manner, with the same hand that held his cigar. “Yes! Now all will know the brain that they are dealing with. Pack up, we are leaving now.”

Chauncy was thrilled. With all of their work trying to decipher the Mayan writings, he had almost forgotten the reason he had come to Palenque in the first place: to examine the skeleton of King Chac, if and when it was ever discovered. Well, now it was his time to fulfill that job.

He was packed and ready in minutes.

Their SUV broke through the jungle canopy and once again Chauncy was awed by the majestic site of the ancient temple, recently unveiled to this world. He felt like a college graduate all over again, full of expectations, ready for whatever came his way.

As Chauncy stepped out of the vehicle, he could feel his own excitement mirrored in everyone else. Many people came up to Dr. Sova and congratulated him. Chauncy watched the doctor closely. Despite Dr. Sova’s disdain for these people, he showed none of it when they came up to congratulate him. Chauncy had expected the linguist to gloat, but he simply smiled and nodded. There was no doubt in Chauncy’s mind that was seeing the many personality profiles of his friend. Today, Dr. Sova was acting as the gracious linguist.

The preparations to enter the pyramid were over shortly, and Dr. Sova motioned Mr. Estlund and Chauncy to follow him.

“Bring your cameras and flashlights, gentlemen, we are about to make history!”

The three climbed the steps of the temple, with various cameras in hand. Once at the top Chauncy took a quick look around them. From the apex, he could see jungle stretching out for miles beyond the nearby temples. It was truly a magnificent sight. But what was inside the temple would be the crowning glory of their time here.

They began their descent into the pyramid. It wasn’t what Chauncy had expected. The tunnel was triangular in shape, it was very cramped, and it was very humid. After seven steps, the light from outside nearly vanished, and they were forced to rely on the heavy-duty flashlights they had brought along. The humidity seemed to make the air heavy and, somehow, ancient. The deeper they went into the tunnel and the stuffier the air became, the older it seemed. The beams of their flashlights flickered randomly off reflective chunks in the wall, adding a surreal sensation to their descent.

Dr. Sova was the first to break the silence as they slowly stepped down the tunnel stairs. “My crew is down there as I speak, attempting to lift the sarcophagus cover. Just a word of warning: it may be a little cramped.”

When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, two shirtless laborers were trying to lift the cover of the sarcophagus by means of a pulley system. Heavy perspiration ran down their bodies. They pulled and tugged on the ropes as the heavy flagstone slowly lifted. With the addition of three more bodies, the atmosphere became hot and stifling.

None of them cared. Anticipation was running high, for they all knew that they would be the first to set eyes on King Chac’s remains. All eyes and flashlights were centered on the sarcophagus as its cover continued to rise.

“Look at that!” Mack exclaimed as the lights shined on a ghostly outline of a human skeleton.

“Wonderful!” Dr. Sova said with wide eyes. “Can you believe this, gentlemen? We are the first to see his remains after many thousands of years in obscurity!”

Chauncy swallowed hard and tried to remain calm despite the fact that his heart was racing with excitement. “Observe the jewelry and the other artifacts. His skeleton is so…so intact.”

The dust from the lid had filled the tiny chamber and it was rapidly becoming difficult to see anything in detail. Dr. Sova cursed and reminded the others that they would have to wait until the dust settled before they could begin their examinations.

Chauncy looked carefully at Dr. Sova, wondering why the linguist was telling the paleontologists how to do their job. It suddenly occurred to Chauncy that Dr. Sova was more annoyed than he sounded, in addition to being more excited. The doctor was simply used to telling people what to do, and in this brief lapse of action, he had reverted to his natural state.

Chauncy shook his head, suddenly realizing that he had fallen into the same trap that Dr. Sova had. He was so excited and awed that his mind was running along strange channels. He had simply not voiced his thoughts like the doctor had, but he was basically doing the same thing. The atmosphere was charged with wonderment and thrill.

Despite the heat, despite the dust, despite the humidity and the oppressive atmosphere, he was here, the tomb of a king! And not just any king, an unknown king, one who was rich and powerful, perhaps more so than any other Mayan monarch! He was one of the five to be the first to see this king after thousands of years, the first to see the regal skeleton in its resting place. It was simply impossible not to be excited.

Suddenly they heard a voice from the top of the stairs.

Dr. Sova yelled back. “What are you saying man? Speak up!”

The voice yelled again, this time a little louder, and all of them strained to hear. Chauncy turned to the doctor. “I think he’s telling us to come up the stairs,” he said, perplexed.

“What the devil for?” Dr. Sova’s voice echoed in the tiny room. “Can’t he tell that we are busy?”

Again the voice yelled, this time frantic. Mack was the first to understand what was being said. “I may be wrong, but it sounds like he’s saying ‘come back up quickly, we have a serious problem.’”

“What the blazes is happening up there?” Dr. Sova angrily asked no one in particular.

Mack put his finger to his lips. “Sssh. Quiet everyone!” he strained his ears as he attempted to understand what the man was yelling.

Despite the dust and the darkness, Chauncy could tell that Mack had gone pale. “He said, ‘Hurry or we are all going to die.’”

Chapter Five

“What?” Dr. Sova asked in disbelief. Disgusted, he threw down the handkerchief he’d used to wipe sweat from his face. “This had better not be a joke. Come on gentlemen, to the surface!” He motioned for them to follow him up the stairs.