Ninth Lord of the Night

by Diana L. Driver

  She found Josh, Sam, and Bruce in the kitchen. “Where are the others?” she asked.

  “Linda took them out to the ruins,” Josh answered. “We’re going out later. You can come with us if you want.”

  “But, if you hurry,” Sam smirked, “you can catch up with them. Then you’ll have all afternoon to lecture them about the Maya.”

  Maria grabbed a bottle of water and left the kitchen without answering. She passed through the Main house, left through the back door, and went down the path to the ruins.

  Chapter Eight

  Pink and lavender flower petals drifted down from the canopy, covering the footpath like pastel colored snow. They’d finished their swim around four and Linda had offered to take Zack and Kyle to the ruins, now that the temperature had dropped a little. Bruce had pretty much ignored Zack all afternoon. Somehow Josh and Kyle had convinced him that Zack wasn’t worth drowning. Maybe Bruce was waiting for another, better opportunity. Guys like him didn’t like to be laughed at and they always had a plan for payback.

  Zack smothered himself with foul smelling insect repellant, loaded up his backpack with bottles of water, his flashlight and the map of the ruins, and stuffed his cowboy hat on his head.

  Since all of the jeeps were gone, Linda led them to a footpath that originated behind the bungalows. She said it was just as easy to walk because the broken road ended at the edge of the ruins anyway. They hadn’t gone very far when Zack began silently to disagree with her comment that walking was easier.

  Walking was the pits. Tree roots and sharp jutting rocks penetrated the rough and uneven dirt path. Breezes were non-existent and the sweltering air, almost unbearable with fragrance, plastered his clothes to his body.

  In the tunnel-like setting, images from Zack’s nightmare flashed before him. Following swiftly upon those came visions of the severed doll’s head and the face of the murdered Canadian. The ceibal trees and palm fronds took on an alien appearance, as if created from his disturbed dream.

  Unseen birds, hidden in the canopy, warbled, chirped and squawked. Other birds, just as invisible, cried out in sorrowful voices, “Where-are-you? Where-are-you? Where-are-you?”

  Damned if he knew. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, wishing he were anywhere but here. “How long does it take to get to where we’re going?”

  Linda stopped and turned around. “We’re about halfway. We should be there in another thirty minutes or so.”

  Without speaking, Kyle and Zack trudged on behind her. When they reached a fork in the path, Linda explained that the path on the right went to the hotel and restaurant area. Zack looked longingly down that trail and thought of food and ice cold Cokes. For a second he wondered if he’d be missed if he slipped away.

  After another thirty minutes, they came to a wooden sign printed with the name Temple of Inscriptions and an arrow pointing down a path on the left.

  “It will be easier now,” Linda assured them. “We’re almost at the Mendez Causeway.”

  “I hope so,” Zack muttered.

  Kyle shot him a look. “Too rough for you?”

  The limestone path became more broken and steeply graded the further along they climbed. When was it going to get easier? Now, more paths branched off in both directions. Some had signs pointing the way to structures hidden in the jungle; others had no signs at all. Zack realized that what Clifton had said was true. It would be easy to get lost, especially after dark.

  “Hey, Linda! Wait up!” They stopped and turned to see Maria sprinting towards them.

  “Going to the Great Plaza?” she asked, catching up with them. “It’s the first place they should visit.”

  Linda nodded. “Want to come with us?”

  Maria regarded Zack pensively. “Sure,” she finally answered. “I was going there anyway.”

  To Zack’s surprise, Maria paired off with him while Kyle and Linda walked on ahead.

  Their path ended at the Mendez Causeway and they merged with small groups of tourists.

  Here, trees had been cleared from the edges of the road and the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly.

  “Where did all these people come from?” Zack asked.

  “Probably from the hotel area,” Maria answered. “There’s also a parking lot not far from here where buses unload passengers coming in from Santa Elena.”

  “They should fix this road,” Zack said, as a woman in front of them stumbled and almost fell. “They’re just asking to get sued.”

  “This isn’t just a road. This is one of the several causeways that the Maya built,” Maria explained. “They built roads just like the Romans did.”

  “Why would the Maya build a road in the middle of the jungle?”

  “This wasn’t all jungle. Tikal was a major Mayan city. When they deserted it the jungle grew back and reclaimed the land. If you look closely you can see structures everywhere.” She pointed to a small hill. “There’s one over there. That’s some kind of building.”

  To Zack, the small hill covered with jungle scrub was just part of the landscape. He never would have guessed that underneath the dirt and vegetation might be some kind of building.

  They went around a bend in the road and came upon the remains of a decaying temple. The vines and brush had been cleared away and a scaffold erected against one of the walls. An older Mayan workman stood at the base of the scaffolding and once again Zack was reminded of his nightmare.

  Beyond this temple loomed the back of an enormous stone structure. It rose higher than the tallest trees, dominating the sky.

  Zack stopped just to stare.

  “That’s Temple I,” Maria said. “It’s also called Temple of the Giant jaguar. It’s at the east end of the Great Plaza.”

  The energy that the heat and humidity had depleted from his body came rushing back. They hurried on, only this time Zack set the pace. They reached the back of Temple I and Zack laid his hand against cool, rough stone.

  Rounding the temple’s southern corner, they came to a structure with long, sloping walls.

  “This is one of the smaller Mayan ball courts,” Maria explained. Kyle looked surprised, but didn’t comment. Zack wondered if his brother thought the Mayan played football. Probably not since there weren’t any goal posts.

  To their left, extending beyond the rear of the temple and continuing for the full length of the Great Plaza was a giant platform supporting buildings, some of which were two and three stories tall.

  “That’s the Central Acropolis,” Maria said. “Up there is where the priests and their families lived.”

  Bypassing the massive steps and terraces of the Central Acropolis, they entered the Great Plaza. Zack stopped in awe at the scene surrounding him.

  The soft lush lawn of the Great Plaza encompassed over two and a half acres. In front of them, behind a row of stone monuments, was the North Terrace Stairway, a set of steps forty feet high and two hundred and thirty feet long. At the summit of the stairway a platform supported four rows of terraced temples, some with thatched roofs.

  To his right, on the east side of the plaza, loomed the front of the temple of the Giant Jaguar. It rose one hundred and forty-five feet into the air. Its mirror image, the Temple of the Masks, at the opposite end of the plaza, stood one hundred and twenty-five feet high.

  “Pretty impressive, huh?” Linda smiled. “These aren’t even the largest of the temples. There are others in Tikal that are taller.”

  “The Maya were certainly into stairs,” Zack said.

  “Let’s start with the smaller temples of the Northern Acropolis,” Maria suggested, leading them across the Great Plaza to a set of stone monuments in front of the North Terrace Stairway.

  “These tall monuments are called stellae,” she explained, “and these flat round stones are the altars. They were dedicated to the temples. The carvings show individuals of the ruling class.”

  Zack looked at the stella in front of him. With its rounded top it looked like a tombstone. He l
ooked past the monument to the monstrous staircase. “I can’t believe we have to climb forty feet just to get to the top.”

  “What were these temples used for?” Kyle asked. “I mean, why were they built?”

  “They’re tombs,” Maria answered. “This is where they buried their kings and queens. This plaza was also their ceremonial center.”

  They climbed up to the top of the platform, and stood before the staircases of the temples making up the first row of the Northern Acropolis.

  “Now what?” Zack asked.

  Maria pointed to the second temple on the left. “We climb the Temple of Sacrifices.”

  She was the first to reach the temple’s summit. “You guys don’t have queasy stomachs do you?” she asked.

  “Not hardly,” Kyle said.

  Zack arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

  Maria pointed to an opening in the temple. “I thought you might want to do some real exploring.”

  Zack remembered the tarantula in the bathroom. Then he thought of snakes. “What’s down there?”

  Maria cocked her head and gazed at him from under the brim of her cowboy hat. “If you’re afraid, you can wait up here.”

  This was a major tourist attraction. How dangerous could it be? He peered at the narrow wooden steps that disappeared into the temple’s interior.

  “Don’t worry about me, ” he retorted. “If you’re not frightened, then I sure don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

  Maria snorted. “All right tough guy,” she said. “You go first.”

  “Me?” Zack glanced at Linda and then at Kyle. “Why me? Kyle’s the jock. Let Kyle go first.”

  Kyle shoved Zack towards the hole. “What are you? All talk and no action? Go on, don’t be a chicken.”

  “Yeah, all right. Sure.” Zack climbed down the steps of the narrow shaft to the dark, musty room at the bottom. Maria, Linda, and Kyle followed behind him.

  “See?” Maria quipped. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Nothing’s here but an old Mayan painting.”

  Zack looked around in the darkness. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

  She illuminated the drawing with her flashlight beam. “On the wall over here.”

  Before him, in faded red and black paint, was a life-sized drawing of a man being decapitated his expression of horror clearly visible. Blood spurted from his severed neck, dripping down the wall in tear shaped droplets.

  “Gross,” Zack said, turning on his own flashlight. “What a price to pay for immortality.”

  “These weren’t very nice guys were they?” Kyle commented.

  “The ancient Maya believed in sacrifices,” Maria answered offhandedly, as if it didn’t matter much. “This was one of the goriest Mayan tombs ever discovered. Archaeologists found several decayed bodies. They also found blood letting instruments, a headdress, and several very fine jade necklaces and bracelets.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Zack said.

  Kyle shined his flashlight beam down a narrow hallway. “What’s back there?”

  “More rooms,” Maria said. “Lead on Zack. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Thanks,” Zack answered. “I’ll remember that.”

  “It’s okay,” Linda assured him. “There’s nothing back there to hurt you.”

  The hallway was barely wide enough for Zack’s shoulders and he had to hunch over to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. It was black, pitch black except for their flashlight beams. The tunnel went straight for several feet, and then angled sharply to the left; opening into another room with more drawings of bloody sacrifices. Zack began to feel claustrophobic. He’d had enough blood and death. Leaving the others, he entered the next tunnel.

  “Some of the decaying bodies were found on these benches,” he heard Maria explain.

  The weight of the temple closed in on him as he continued down the dark and damp passageway, deeper into the temple’s interior. Other doorways opened off the tunnel, but Zack ignored them. He reached the doorway of the last room and stopped suddenly. Illuminated in his flashlight beam was the old Mayan workman he’d seen standing by the scaffolding.

  Maria came up behind him. “What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but the man was gone. Cautiously he entered the room, shining his light over the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. The room was empty. No one else was there.

  The passageway terminated in this small cell. Ancient paintings of sacrificed captives covered every wall. Some of captives were being ritually bled, others were in a state of torture, and still others were having their hearts ripped from their bodies. Against each wall were stone benches, like those in the other rooms.

  “Look at this,” Linda said. In one of the corners remained a residue of wax and fresh white flower petals.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked.

  “A Mayan altar,” Linda answered. “And, not an ancient one, either.”

  “The modern Maya still practice the old religion and worship the old gods,” Maria explained. “These petals are from the cartucho plant.”

  “It’s like the lily,” Linda interjected.

  “There’s copal too,” Maria continued. “Copal is a resin used for incense. Can you smell it?”

  “Who can’t?” Zack said. “The air reeks of it.”

  “Someone’s been invoking the old gods,” Maria said. “The Maya still have their mysteries and their secrets.”

  “Weird,” Kyle commented.

  “You mean,” Zack asked, looking at the bloody paintings. “That the Maya still do sacrifices and stuff?”

  “I know it’s hard, but try not to be so stupid,” Maria said. “The modern Maya are as different from the ancient Maya, as the modern Italians are from the Romans. More so probably, the modern Maya revere the earth and every living thing on it. You can’t say that for the majority of humanity.”

  “You said they still practice the old religion,” Zack muttered.

  “When the Spanish conquered the Maya,” Maria said, “they not only burned the Mayan books and historical documents, but tried to take away their religion as well. But, in some villages Catholicism is practiced right beside the old religion. Two days a week the villagers participate in Catholic action, and two days a week they worship the old religion.”

  Enough was enough. Being in a burial chamber surrounded by bloody sacrificial drawings was sickening and offensive. But, being in a burial chamber surrounded by bloody drawings, and knowing that people still believed and worshipped the ancient Mayan gods was more than Zack could stomach. No wonder he was seeing people who weren’t really there. “This place is disgusting,” he said. “I’m getting out of here.”

  Maria sighed in annoyance as they began retracing their steps through the rooms and tunnels and back up the narrow steps. But, instead of going back down into the Great Plaza, she led them to one of the smaller temples at the rear of the Northern Acropolis.

  Here, in the shade of the thatched roof, the wind blew freely. Zack slid down to the floor, placed his hat on his knee and took a drink of tepid water from his water bottle. He leaned against a limestone wall and closed his eyes, relishing the coolness. A breeze lifted his hair away from his face. He opened his eyes and caught Maria studying him, a perplexed expression on her face. She quickly glanced away and he felt uneasy.

  For a few seconds no one spoke, but just watched the chattering spider monkeys chase each other through the trees. Not far from the monkeys, a pair of yellow-headed parrots perched on the limb of a ceibal tree, preening their feathers. At one of the temples, unreachable by tourists, a small fox-like dog watched over her puppies as they scampered on the stone steps. Scarlet Macaws flew in red and blue splendor across the sky and disappeared from view behind The Temple of the Masks.

  “The Maya must have been supermen to build these temples,” Kyle said, “especially in this heat.”

  “No one really knows how they did it,” Maria said. “It’s the
same kind of mystery that surrounds the great pyramids in Egypt. The Maya didn’t have horses or any other kind of beasts of burden, they didn’t have metal, and most incredible of all, they had no use for the wheel.”

  “Why so big?” Kyle asked.

  “The Maya are very symbolic people,” Maria answered. “These temples symbolize sacred mountains. The doorways represent the mouths of caves and entrances to the underworld. When Tikal was a flourishing city, the temples were painted according to world directions. North is white, east is red, south is yellow, and west is black. The sun represents all the elements in life itself. Can you imagine how striking Tikal must have been? How it must have complimented the many colors of the jungle birds and plants?”

  “Yeah, but all that sacrifice stuff,” Zack said, “they were crazy.”

  “Every civilization has its madness,” Maria said. “But, that’s no reason to destroy a people’s history, religion and culture. Do you know that in Mexico it is against the law for the Maya to even speak their own language? Suppose people in the future were only allowed to judge our society by a couple of books on astrology and Picasso’s paintings? What kind of a perspective do you think they would have?” No one answered and she continued, “How can you appreciate your heritage if you’re denied any knowledge of your ancestors? How can you know who you really are?”

  Zack felt Kyle’s eyes on him. “You know,” he said. “Maybe it’s just not that important.”

  The afternoon shadows lengthened and Maria continued to expound on Mayan culture. Kyle and Linda seemed interested, but Zack had quit listening to her ramblings a long time ago. These people didn’t have anything to do with him.

  Finally Linda stood up. “Time for me to go,” she said, putting the cap back on her water bottle and stretching her legs. “There’s Josh waving to me from the Great Plaza, and it looks like Samantha and Bruce are with him.”

  Kyle got to his feet, but Zack didn’t budge. “You guys go ahead. I’m going to stay here for awhile,” he said.

  “Think you can find your way back?” Linda asked.

  “Sure, I have my map.”