Treasure of the Mayan King (2012)

by Alehandro

  He propped his elbows on the desk and lowered his head onto his hands, rubbing his face and eyes as he tried to calm himself. Emotion and panic would kill him. He heaved a sigh and returned his attention to the scroll and what Dr. Sova had taught him about the Mayan language.

  Ancient manuscripts such as the Popol Vuh, or Book of the Community, had barely survived. The Popol Vuh had been a collection of ancient myths written by a young Mayan noble named Quiche Maya, and it was instrumental in helping archaeologists on the path to learning the written Mayan language. The most famous, and most helpful, book had been the Madrid Codex. That codex had been rescued from oblivion in the 19th century in Spain, and had proven to be invaluable in deciphering the Mayan script.

  Chauncy smiled, recalling the words of his mentor. “They don’t teach you these things in the universities or books, Chauncy! No, but you must always use your head, your brain, your thinking ability to its fullest potential if you want to become successful.”

  Chauncy’s mind wandered back to the past when he met Dr. Sova. The initial testing, the slow work on the temple, the startling revelation at the hacienda in Merida, the long days and nights learning the Mayan language and practicing the Mayan Code with him, the many days of being the student of the greatest linguist in the world, the dangerous adventure with the rebels and their wannabe leader. Then there were the long months of learning before their paths had separated.

  Chauncy snapped back to reality. They were separated permanently. Those “good old days” were gone, as was Dr. Sova himself. Despite the doctor’s own admonition to “always use your head,” he had succumbed to his own vices and been killed for it. If a man so intelligent could fail, Chauncy knew he had his work cut out for him if he wanted to avoid the same fate.

  Taking a deep breath, he once more focused on the scroll in front of him.

  Chapter Five

  Chauncy awoke with a start. His neck hurt terribly. After a few disoriented moments, he realized he had fallen asleep with his head on the desk. Sitting up, he rubbed his neck, grimacing. He hadn’t fallen asleep at his work desk in ages.

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. He couldn’t remember how late he was up last night, scribbling away as he tried to translate the message, and trying to come up with a plan. He had an inkling of an idea. He knew from past experience that if he pushed the idea too hard he would lose it.

  He opened his eyes and stared again at the scroll. Within the cryptic symbols was the location of one million dollars. The filthy scoundrels, he thought sullenly. That ill-gotten money probably cost a whole lot of innocent blood.

  He heard the jingling of keys and turned toward the door as it swung open. Santo Domingo was accompanied by the same guards as yesterday. One carried steaming food on a plastic tray. After putting it on the table, he returned to Domingo’s side.

  “Your breakfast is here,” Santo announced with a smile. “How is the project coming along?”

  Chauncy stood up and made his way toward the table. “Well, keep in mind that this is only the second day that I have been here. If you don’t count the time I was unconscious, this will be the first full day. This isn’t going to be an easy project, Mr. Domingo, but I am positive that I will have the document translated for you in a week or so.”

  Santo’s cheerfulness evaporated. “That is not acceptable!” His tone left no room for argument. “It is too much time, Mr. Rollock. We need to find the money soon. Speed up the translation!”

  “I will try my best, Mr. Domingo. Keep in mind that we are dealing with cryptic language, and that I must decipher, translate, and then somehow understand the meaning behind the translation. It’s no easy task.”

  The three men headed for the door. Santo stopped for a moment before leaving and turned to look at Chauncy. “Work faster, Mr. Rollock. And do not try to bluff me.”

  The sound of the heavy metal door seemed to bounce around Chauncy’s mind along with the warning. These people are not going to play around. Quickly finishing the plate of papas con huevos, a potato and egg mixture, he got back to work.

  Santo returned twice, the second time with a plate of tacos. Both visits were brief; apparently Santo was satisfied with watching Chauncy work instead of interrogating him.

  There was no clock in the room, but Chauncy figured it was close to ten o’clock at night by the time he called it quits. He stumbled over to the bed, pulled the light-switch cord, and flopped down.

  Despite the strain of the day’s work, his brain apparently wasn’t done. In his mind’s eye he saw the Mayan hieroglyphs over and over again. The cryptic message Dr. Sova had left wouldn’t leave his mind.

  It wasn’t until the next morning that he realized what his brain had been trying to tell him.

  He was already hard at work when Santo brought breakfast. This time, the other guard held a metal folding chair, and for a split second Chauncy feared that they had moved past threats and were going to beat him. But the guard simply set the chair a few feet away and Santo sat down.

  “So,” he said, with a grim smile. “Let’s see your progress.”

  Once Chauncy’s pulse returned to normal, he spoke, consulting his notes. “Well, I have managed to translate some of it. This is what I have so far:

  “The mighty sacred triangle, where kings once ruled.

  The three mighty cities, there is where you will begin.”

  Santo raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

  Chauncy stared at his notes, a perplexed look on his face. “It’s too early into the translation to say for sure, Mr. Domingo. This may be indicating where the money is, or it may just be symbolic. The reference to ‘where you will begin’ implies to me that it is indeed referring to the money, so I ask you to please be patient with me. By tonight I should have finished the paragraph.”

  Santo’s face lit up. “Excellent! At least some progress has been made.”

  Noting Santo’s mood, Chauncy decided to risk the crazy idea he’d had the night before. He trembled. If he could pull this off, he would be free. Of course if he didn’t, he would die.

  “Mr. Domingo, I was wondering if I might ask a favor of you?”

  Santo squinted. Peering at Chauncy, he asked, “What do you want?”

  Chauncy took a quick breath and plunged in. “You see, Mr. Domingo, I have been thinking and worrying about a very important matter. It has to do with my wife, Anita. She suffers from a chronic case of nerves and panics easily. Once the panic takes hold, who knows what she will do. I fear that she might even go to the authorities, and that would jeopardize both my life and the translation of this document! I would like to send her a video of me. You can even write a script for me to read.”

  Chauncy held his breath as Santo stared at the ceiling, stroking his chin. “Well,” he said slowly, “I guess if I write the script, I don’t see any harm in this. Let me run this by the boss.”

  Evidently still thinking, Santo and the guards left, taking the folding chair with them.

  Chauncy let his breath out slowly, a trickle of sweat winding its way down his forehead. So far, so good! He returned his attention to the scroll and tried to focus on the translation.

  In the morning when the trio brought breakfast, Santo asked for a progress report. Chauncy paused his scribbling and read from his clipboard:

  “The mighty sacred triangle, where kings once ruled.

  The three mighty cities, there is where you will begin.

  One of the three is where it will be. Three worlds there are

  The heavens and the middle world and the underworld.”

  Santo stared at Chauncy, clearly awaiting an explanation. Chauncy looked over the symbols on his clipboard for a moment before turning to Santo and speaking.

  “We are getting closer. Since the doctor used symbolic language, I’ll need to analyze the complete translation to decipher it.”

  Santo looked nervous. “My boss is getting anxious, Mr. Rollock. You must hurry and get this deciphered. We h
ave pressing matters to attend to.”

  “I am doing the best I can, Mr. Domingo.”

  “Good,” Santo said. “The boss says you can make the video for your wife - after you finish deciphering the Mayan Code.”

  Chauncy nodded. “I understand.”

  The three took their leave to the familiar sounds of door and keys and ascending footsteps.

  For the first time in days, Chauncy smiled.

  At the following morning’s breakfast report, Chauncy had excellent news. “I’m very excited, Mr. Domingo. I’ve finished the translation.”

  “The mighty sacred triangle, where kings once ruled.

  The three mighty cities, there is where you will begin.

  One of the three is where it will be. Three worlds there are

  The heavens and the middle world and the underworld. In them a king lies, under him it must be.

  Where I once was.”

  He paused for a moment. “I believe this is what the doctor meant to write. The Mayan Code was designed to be phonetic, so some of the words may sound like what I just said, but have an entirely different meaning. Either way, you can tell your boss that I have finished the text. Now all I have to do is decipher the meaning behind the words.”

  Santo wiped his face with a handkerchief. Heaving a big sigh, he then smiled broadly. “Good, good! It has been almost a week now; my boss has been anxious. I will tell him how far you have come. Perhaps tomorrow you will meet him.” Santo left.

  The following morning Santo and the guards caught Chauncy’s enthusiasm even before Chauncy announced:

  “Mr. Domingo! Call your boss, for I believe I know where the money is!”

  Santo barked an order to one of the guards who ran from the room. Santo turned to Chauncy, his expression a mixture of threat and joy. “I hope you are right, Mr. Rollock.”

  In moments, Chauncy heard footsteps on the stairs. A single voice spoke excitedly. As they entered the room Chauncy tried to place the familiar figure following.

  He spoke with only the slightest trace of an accent. “Good morning, Mr. Rollock. Please allow me to introduce myself: I am Jose Padilla Madrid.”

  “Mr. Madrid…I…I didn’t know that I was working for you!” Chauncy gasped.

  Madrid smiled. “Ah, Mr. Rollock, does it matter if I am who I am or just a petty thief? Now let’s get down to business, shall we? As Mr. Domingo has had occasion to tell you, I have some important matters to take care of before leaving the country. So the sooner we get to the bottom of this ‘Mayan Code’ the better.”

  Chauncy took a deep nervous breath, it took a few seconds for him to calm down, if such a thing were possible. He sat down to explain the mystery of the puzzling code. “Dr. Sova was a clever man. He disguised the answer not only in Mayan hieroglyphs, but in a riddle. One must understand a little about the Mayan culture to uncover the answer, or else the message would mean nothing. Let’s start with the first sentence:

  “The mighty sacred triangle, where kings once ruled”

  “This refers to the geographical location of the extent of the Maya civilization. If you look at this map,” Chauncy said, pointing to a map of the Yucatan peninsula, “You will see that the Maya empire spread through Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Honduras and El Salvador. The next line:

  “The three mighty cities,”

  “This refers to Tikal or Copan, Palenque and Chichen Itza. If you connect these cities, it makes a triangle - like this.”

  Chauncy took out a pencil and drew a line between the three cities, which turned out to form a nearly perfect triangle.

  “Now the rest of the second sentence:

  “is where you will begin.”

  “That tells us we need to look within this ‘mighty sacred triangle.’”

  Madrid shook his head, scowling. “That’s too large an area to search.”

  “I know,” Chauncy added. “Ah, that is what the next sentence is for!

  “One of the three is where it will be.”

  “We now narrow it down to one of the three cities. Chichen Itza, Palenque, or Copan. Which do you think it is? The answer is in the following verses, but first we have to understand something about their religious beliefs.”

  Chauncy was still very nervous; he paused to catch his breath. “Here is what the next part says:

  Three worlds there are: the heavens and the middle world and the underworld.”

  “The Mayans were firm believers in the existence of three worlds. The ‘heavens above’ means the first world, the earth was the ‘middle world’ and the ‘underworld’ was the place of the dead.”

  Santo spoke up. “Well, the money must be in the middle world then.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Chauncy said. “Keep in mind, however, that Doctor Sova was using symbolic language. Consequently, the money is hidden underneath something. That’s why he makes reference to the underworld. One would also presume that he is speaking about a cave, right? Not so, for the Mayan word for cave is Xibalba. However, Dr. Sova used the word K’nich Yenal for underworld.”

  “What does that mean?” Madrid asked in an exasperated tone.

  Chauncy explained. “K’nich Yenal is another name for the underworld, except that it is also the name of a Mayan god. It can mean cave, or jaguar-god. The jaguar-god is one of the underworld gods and is the protector of royal kings. So the use of K’nich Yenal is used in reference to a king. This makes sense because the text continues:

  “In them a king lies, under him it must be.”

  “This is where the translation became difficult. The word Dr. Sova used for king is ‘Chak,’ which also happens to be the name of the rain god. So I asked myself, is he making reference to the rain god Chak, or to the name of King Chac? After much thought I realized he was referring to a buried king! For many decades archaeologists had no idea that the Mayan pyramids were also used as tombs; it was believed that only the Egyptian pyramids were. However, in 1949 a Mexican archaeologist by the name of Alberto Ruz discovered King Paca inside a pyramid. With that fact in mind, I realized that Dr. Sova was making reference to a tomb in the underworld, or inside of a Mayan pyramid. King Chac was found in Palenque by Dr. Sova, therefore he can rightfully say about himself:

  “Where I once was.”

  “The money is in Palenque, deep inside Temple #22 where King Chac’s remains were discovered. It makes perfect sense. Dr. Sova knew the area well.”

  Madrid was impressed. “Well, Mr. Rollock, I can see it was no mistake to have you brought here to help us decipher the Mayan Code. So Dr. Sova tried to outsmart me! What an idiot! Nobody outsmarts me.”

  Madrid”s expression suddenly turned gloomy. ‘Now we make an expedition to Palenque and retrieve the money. How many men will we need, and how difficult will it be to get inside that tomb?’

  Chauncy stood up and rubbed his chin. “It has been some time since I last visited the area. If we assume that no more excavations have been made since then, I don’t think it will be very difficult to enter the tomb. Perhaps Dr. Sova didn’t have had anyone help him, therefore the five of us will suffice.”

  Madrid nodded once, sharply, and spoke. “Tomorrow we go to Palenque. You may want to wash and shave now. As you requested, you’ll be making a video.”

  Chauncy smiled.

  Chapter Six

  When Marlo and Gloria answered Anita’s rapid knocking at their hotel door, she seemed excited.

  “Marlo, Gloria, look what someone brought me. It’s a message from Chauncy! It was delivered to me from the front desk a few minutes ago.”

  Marlo raised an eyebrow. “A movie, are you saying you have a message from Chauncy and it’s in a movie? That’s crazy!”

  “Apparently so,” Anita replied as they walked to the DVD player.

  She inserted the disc into the player and fiddled with the buttons. The blue screen of the TV instantly disappeared and the image of Chauncy Rollock came on the screen.

  “Hey, it’s Dad!” Troy shouted.


  Anita stared at the screen. “Shhh!”

  Chauncy was clean-shaven and was wearing a plain brown shirt and dark pants. Behind him was a wooden desk. Behind that was a map of Yucatan pinned to the wall. Next to the map was a large poster with handwritten Mayan glyphs.

  Chauncy began to speak, his voice slow, deliberate and clear. It was obvious that he had been told to speak in an emotionless monotone and that he was reading a prearranged script. They all listened with interest.

  “My dear Anita, as you can see I am doing fine. They are treating me well. When my assignment is done I will then be free to see you again. Please do not attempt to call the authorities. Give my love to all, especially to our son Troy. I love you. Goodbye.”

  The recording stopped and the television screen went blank. No one spoke.

  Gloria turned to Anita while Marlo stood up to turn off the DVD player. “That’s it? At least he does look well. I mean, they aren’t torturing him or anything like that.” Gloria said.

  Anita didn’t even register the words. Instead, she sat mesmerized, staring at the blank screen. “Play it again, Marlo,” she whispered, sounding preoccupied.

  Marlo glanced at her quizzically, but shrugged and pressed the play button.

  Anita’s eyes widened. When it was over, she spoke again, her voice filled with excitement. “Run it again, Marlo. You are not going to believe what I saw! Stop! Pause it, right there!”

  Marlo stared at the screen. It was exactly the same as it had been before. He turned to look at Anita. “What is it? What do you see that I don’t? You’re freaking me out.”

  Anita’s breathing was heavy with fear or excitement, or maybe both. “Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said, her eyes glued to the TV screen. “But you’re not going to believe me. Chauncy sent me a message, he’s asking for help!”

  Marlo looked at the screen for a moment then back at Anita. “Are you sure? It’s obvious he’s reading a script, and he’s not moving at all.”

  “It’s what he wrote in the background,” she exclaimed, pointing to the TV screen.