“That looks like a city up ahead.”
Tohil and Xquic turned to look where he was pointing. It definitely looked like buildings and then, Tohil could see the tops of temples from here, more than one. Of course, it was nothing like the Great City, but it was undoubtedly a city all the same.
As their canoes started nearing the cluster of habitation, it was evident that their impending arrival was causing great consternation. There was much scurrying about at the river’s edge, the appearance of armed warriors. Tohil could understand why. If he had seen a large collection of warriors approaching his home, he would have been worried too. When they neared shouting range, the astronomer took up his standing position at the bow, announcing in a loud voice that they were on a mission at the behest of the Dwarf King, that there was no cause for alarm. The words, coming from an obvious official seemed to calm the masses somewhat, but the local warriors still stood at the ready. Some bore bows and darts. If they suddenly opened fire, Tohil realised, there wasn’t any place to run, to take cover. And they were in the lead canoe. He sincerely hoped that the astronomer knew what he was doing. As they drew even closer, Tzacol continued announcing their peaceful intentions. Finally, after a great deal of scrutiny, the local warriors appeared to relax somewhat. Seeing this, so too did Tohil, at least a little.
Stairs were cut into the bankside, a walkway along the edge. Already people were starting to crowd the space. all along the edge, watching the canoes and warriors as they drew up. There was barely enough space to accommodate all of their crafts. As soon as they were close enough, Tepeu leapt out, nearly receiving a spear in his chest for his trouble. He backed away from the offending warrior, hands held up at shoulder level, palms forward. The warrior lowered his spear again. The astronomer stepped from their canoe more daintily, balancing and then taking a large step to gain the shore, then standing and looking around.
“Where are your City Elders?” he said in an imperious voice.
An exchange of muttered conversations ensued, but a response failed to eventuate.
“Well, then, your priests? I would consult with them.”
Someone who looked as if he might be of a higher status stepped forward. “I can take you,” he said.
The astronomer nodded and then turned to back to the canoe, motioning for Tohil to join him. All along the river’s edge, warriors were stepping out of canoes, gaining the bank, and assembling in groups. The local residents stepped back to give them room.
“What do you want me to do?” muttered Xquic.
“Stay with Tepeu. Keep an eye on him.”
Looking impatient, Tzacol gestured to Tohil again, and feeling less than enthusiastic, he stood and stepped carefully onto the stairs that led up to where the astronomer stood waiting. He thought to leave the staff on board, but then had second thoughts. As soon as he was on his feet, and the growing crowd managed a good look at him, the buzz of murmured discussion increased. Tohil could feel all eyes on him. He had a fair idea what he would look like to them. The way he was dressed, the staff, all gave him the look of an Elder, but he was far too young. The only conclusion they would be able to draw would be magician. That they might think that was not necessarily a bad thing, especially as a group of the Jaguars had quickly moved to flank him. Not that he was nervous, but he was conscious that he stood out. Perhaps if he could carry off that illusion, it would serve them well, though he still thought that he must look far too young.
Word of their arrival had obviously filtered further into the city, because not only was the crowd of people swelling in numbers, but also, just then, striding down a main street leading into the city proper came a group of obvious dignitaries, nobles, priests among them. Seeing this, Tzacol spoke once more to the man who had offered to guide them.
“I don’t think we’ll need you.”
The man pressed his lips together, bowed his head a little and then retreated. The gathered crowd stepped back to make room for the city delegation. The first to step forward was a young noble, done up in feathers, necklaces, jewelled bracelets. He stood waiting.
“I am Chief Astronomer to the Dwarf King,” announced Tzacol. “We are on a special expedition. We will make use of your city’s facilities overnight before we are on our way. In the meantime, we would consult with your priests and your Elders, or failing that, a selection of your nobles.”
There was not a hint of request in Tzacol’s words.
There were glances among the members of the delegation, and then the young noble spoke.
“My family rules here. We will provide you hospitality. Our warriors will guard your canoes and make sure they remain safe. Of course, we are happy to offer service to the Dwarf King. I will accompany you and your companion to our residence where we can meet. Our priests will join us.”
Tzacol nodded. “These warriors will accompany us,” he said, indicating the Jaguars.
Something flickered across the noble’s face, but there was no immediate objection.
“Very well, please follow me,” he said.
By now, Tohil was becoming used to what to expect within a city. This one was much the same. Clusters of buildings, craftsmen’s workshops, market stalls, scents, noise, people running back and forth or just stopping to stare and discuss among themselves. There was a central square, temples reaching to the heavens, nobles, tradesmen, common people. Their guide led the small party to a large residence, nothing to compare with the Grand Palace, but a complex of connected stone buildings that was impressive enough nonetheless. He guessed that some of the buildings were servant’s quarters, others for guards and warriors. They climbed several stairs to a floor above and were ushered into a large room sumptuously appointed with decorations, hangings, woven rugs upon the stone floors and superbly crafted furniture. The noble issued instructions to serving men and women and as they sat and made themselves comfortable, trays of refreshments appeared and a couple more people who were clearly part of this young noble’s family. The new arrivals looked surprised, but soon settled into the role of hosts.
The next few hours were filled with detailed conversations, reports about raiding parties, activity of the tribes, queries about general happenings. Tzacol led the discussions, a role he was clearly used to, and Tohil could do little else that sit back, listen, and observe. He felt himself being watched in turn, especially by the priests. From what they heard, it was clear that the Dwarf King’s intelligence about a gathering of tribes was right. There had been less evidence locally of raiding party activity and there had to be some reason why that would be so. By the time the discussion was dwindling, Tohil was bored and reasonably sated. Once more, fatigue was washing over him. He certainly couldn’t fault the noble’s hospitality, but he didn’t want to drift off in the middle of these discussions. He wondered where Xquic and Tepeu were and what they were up to, but he couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t be well looked after too.
Eventually, the meeting broke up, Tzacol apparently satisfied with what they had learned, and Tohil was led to quarters, if anything, even more luxurious than where he had been housed in the Grand Palace. A guard of two Jaguars was posted outside his door. He supposed that he was still weak from his period of fever and unconsciousness, because he felt suddenly exhausted, too full, a little fuzzy from the drink that they’d been plied with, more than just the fatigue he’d been feeling before. He thought about trying to find his friends, but decided that he didn’t really have the energy and before long he was lying back on the bed, divested of robes and jewellery, and drifting off to sleep.
During that night he dreamed, and they were dreams full of visions of numbers and a large round calendar with lights that steadily moved across it around segmented circles and glowing words that flowed one after the other, then winked out of existence to be replaced by others.
The original book, written long ago, existed, but its sight is hidden to the searcher and to the thinker.
— Popol Vuh, Preamble
TWENTY-SIX<
br />
The next morning, when he awoke, Tohil was confused. He spent a moment or two struggling to work out where he was. The dreams were still sharp in his memory, and he needed to find the astronomer and discuss them with him. For some reason, he knew that these were important. He performed quick morning ablutions, dressed—no servants this time—and as soon as he was ready, asked one of the Jaguars still at his door if they knew where the astronomer was housed. One of them indicated that it was further down the corridor, and he headed that way immediately, the Jaguars falling into step behind him. He was still a bit uncomfortable with them following him around like that, but he supposed he’d get used to it. He wondered along the way whether these were the same warriors that had taken up position outside his door last night or if they had taken shifts. If not, they had to be tired. Finding Xquic and Tepeu could wait for now. The dreams were the priority.
By the time he reached the chamber, Tzacol was barely awake, making Tohil wait while he took his own sweet time getting himself together. In the meantime, Tohil waited impatiently, rocking on his heels out in the corridor. Finally, the astronomer beckoned him inside.
“So, Tohil,” he said, perched on the side of the bed.
Tohil looked around, found somewhere to sit, and recounted what he’d seen within his dreams. There were a few new words as well, but he thought that the calendar thing was the most significant.
“These lights, you say they were moving. Did you notice how fast?”
“They seemed to be moving at different rates. Slower in the middle circles, faster on the outside.”
“You could see the ones on the outside moving?”
“Yes,” said Tohil. “I thought that was what I just said.”
The astronomer took the comment and sat looking at the floor, stroking his chin.
“All right. You need to describe this calendar in as much detail as possible. I need to know particularly about the symbols in that outer circle. Without those, I will not be able to calculate what you need to know.”
Tohil nodded, and trying to remember as much as he could, started to describe what he’d seen.
“Wait.” Tzacol reached for his leather satchel, fumbled around inside and then drew out some ink and some paper cloth.
“Now, start again. As you describe them, I will try to draw what you describe, and then you can tell me if it is right. I need you to remember where on the circles each of them is.”
Tohil started again. He thought it would be more difficult, but he found a picture of the calendar clear in his mind. He studied the mental image, calling out the various shapes and signs, one by one. Each time, they cross-checked with what the astronomer had drawn adjusting the drawings until Tohil was satisfied with the picture. The entire process took them over an hour.
“Good,” said the astronomer at last. “Now, tell me on the circle where each of the lights were.”
He drew a round sketch of the calendar, circle within circle, and Tohil pointed out the places.
“And what colour were they?”
Tohil answered and the astronomer made notes.
“I think that this is enough for now. I need to study these in detail. That will take some time, but I can work on that whilst we are underway. The indicators are different and I need to translate and align them. There is a logical sequence dictated by the patterns and movements of the stars, so I should be able to match them. As I said, that will take time, but we need to get moving. From what we heard last night, we have to reach the village as soon as we can.”
Tohil wasn’t sure what had changed, but the gaunt astronomer seemed less patronising, more open. Perhaps it was because he was suddenly in his element or that he was more in command of his task and no longer had to put on a stern face of arrogant gruffness in order to compensate. He watched as Tzacol put his notes in order, returned them and his writing materials to his satchel.
“Let us get ready to depart,” he said.
Together they marched down the corridor with the Jaguars in tow. A servant appeared, asked how he could help. As soon as the astronomer told him what he wanted, there was a great deal of fuss about needing to call the young noble, how it wasn’t proper to leave without him being informed, but Tzacol merely waved the objections away, and asked to be shown to the way out. Ducking his head and looking distinctly uncomfortable about it, the servant reluctantly complied.
“Send word to the others to join us,” he told the servant and started striding across the main square towards the docks.
Tohil hesitated. He would dearly have liked to have caught up with Xquic and Tepeu first, but the astronomer waved him on. He was getting the distinct impression that the astronomer thought he was officially in charge of the mission. In the absence of any other, Tohil supposed he was. It was not a role that he himself particularly wanted to play. As they walked the main street to where their canoes waited, he thought about that. During their journey to the Great City he had been comfortable enough with giving directions. The others had looked to him to make decisions. For the most part, that had worked out fine, except, in the end, with Acab and Oquis. Why was he reluctant now? Was it because there were so many of them, most of them strangers, or was it because his original task had come from Haracan rather from a distant ruler that he’d barely had time to know? He’d felt pride in the responsibility that Haracan had invested in him. This new journey, he was not so sure. It was more like something that he had been forced into.
As they stood at the riverside, waiting for the others to arrive, Tzacol was staring off into the distance, clearly processing what they had discussed. A couple of times he absently reached for his satchel and then changed his mind.
“You know, Tohil. We know so much. Do you know that at the Temple of the Sun, at a certain time of the year, there is a shadow that winds down the steps during the day in the shape of a serpent? At the end of the day, in the late afternoon, it stops, right at the serpent carving at the bottom of the stairs. Imagine that. We know how to do such things. And yet there is so much that we don’t know. There is always something new to discover.” He stared out into the distance thoughtfully.
Word had clearly spread throughout the city by now of their imminent departure and already the locals were starting to gather at the water’s edge. There was a stirring at the back of the crowd, and a moment later, the first of their warriors appeared, marching forward in ordered groups. Tohil craned his neck, looking for Tepeu and Xquic, finally spotting them and waving. Tepeu kept pace with the warriors, but Xquic dashed forward. She quickly reached his position and placed her hands upon his shoulders.
“Are you all right?” she said. “I was worried.”
“I was worried about you too,” he said. “But no, I’m fine.”
She studied his face. Finally, she relented. Tepeu reached them and she released his shoulders.
“Servant’s quarters,” he said disgustedly. “We are not servants.”
“They didn’t put you with the warriors?”
“No,” said Xquic. “I don’t think they really knew what to do with us as we were together. They couldn’t house a mere woman with the warriors, now could they?”
“Servants,” Tepeu muttered again.
“Well, at least you were on dry land,” said Xquic. “It wasn’t so bad.”
Tepeu merely snorted in response.
All around them, the warriors were already starting to board the canoes.
“Did anything happen last night?” Xquic asked.
“I’ll tell you once we get going,” said Tohil.
Already the crowd was starting to get too large. Now that the locals knew there was no threat, they were quite happy to press forward to get a better view of proceedings. Tohil spotted a group of nobles and priests bearing down on them. He turned and quickly climbed aboard. Tzacol had marked the approaching delegation too, and he was just as quick to jump in and take up his position at the front.
The astronomer stood, waved his arm, and with hi
s signal, every canoe pushed off from the bank, guiding the vessels into a simultaneous turn and paddling out towards the river’s centre. The nobles were left sputtering on the bank. Tzacol gave them perfunctory wave, and then turned away to focus on the river ahead. Within a few strokes, the city was slipping past them and away.
Tohil settled himself in the canoe’s centre and started to fill his companions in on the meeting, on the progression of his dreams, and more quietly about the morning’s discussion with the astronomer. By the time he was done, the city was no more than a small smudge behind them, and the surrounding fields had turned to trees, the sounds, and scents of the forest all around them.
oOo
Another two days and nights they travelled along the river, through forest, sometimes crags, on occasion open fields. Once or twice along the way they saw herds of deer, watching them pass curiously, or distant villages. If there were roads like the white road nearby, he saw no sign of them. At least Tzacol seemed to know where they were going, for Tohil had lost all track, even though, once or twice, he made use of this newfound ability to call up this map in his head. There was something about it though, some little pause before the images arose, as if something was grinding into place in the background, finding what he sought. He wondered, briefly, if there were other things he'd be able to call up in his head.
Most of the time, the astronomer sat at the front of the canoe, buried in his notes, making calculations. He would look up briefly, seemingly satisfied with their progress and then return to his materials. On each of the successive nights, Tohil had dreamed, and after each one, he had moved up to where the astronomer was perched, recounting the visions. More notes were taken, more tangential observations, but the couple of times he had moved forward and tried to engage Tzacol in simple conversation, the astronomer had simply waved him away. Tohil was starting to become a little annoyed with the dismissive attitude. He was not just a tool. Or perhaps, in reality, he was.
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