“That’s what I think too,” said Tohil.
“But what does it mean?”
“I do not know. Perhaps…no…they could be some gods that we have never seen before, but I don’t think that’s it. I think they have something to do with the Seelee. In that last temple, one of them was riding what must have been the Dark Serpent, but its shape, the carving, it was like no serpent I have ever seen. I am starting to think that these really could be representations of the Seelee, But the Seelee are not gods, so why are they carved here? No one thinks they are gods. Or maybe they do.” Tohil stared at the carved panel for a few moments longer. They were people, or they looked like people. The clothes they wore were unfamiliar, and those weapons, if indeed they were weapons, were strange, but they definitely looked like people. Not gods.
And here, yet again, was another puzzle without an answer.
“Very well, Sirs,” they answered. And they proceeded to sacrifice each other. Hunahpú was sacrificed by Xbalanqué; one by one his arms and his legs were sliced off, his head was cut from his body and carried away; his heart was torn from his breast and thrown onto the grass. All the Lords of Xibalba were fascinated. They looked on in wonder, but really it was only the dance of one man; it was Xbalanqué.
— Popol Vuh, Part II, Chapter 13
TEN
Xquic was busy examining the altar slab and its supporting panels. Tohil watched her for a moment then moved over to join her. There was something about this place, something that pressed heavily on his consciousness and his mood, a kind of weight that touched him with a feeling of darkness. It was more than the dim light. So many lives had been taken here, so much blood spilled. Xquic was tracing the grooves in the surface of the big stone slab.
“I suppose the blood ran along here,” she said. “But where did it go?”
Tohil immediately understood. If several bodies were sacrificed here, atop this altar, there would have been lots of blood.
“Perhaps they just let it spill over,” he said, but somehow, he didn’t think that was right. He crouched down to investigate the side panels more closely. They showed gods, serpents, the usual sort of carved reliefs that he expected to find, unlike the strange depiction that sat on the wall behind him now. He moved around the edge to look at the next panel, but again, it was similar. He stood and took a step back, trying to picture what it would have looked like. There would have been feathered priests, bedecked in jade and animal teeth, nobles, costumed, and masked. The captive would be led to the stone, held flat upon its top, perhaps bound, though not all of them would need binding—not the ones that went willingly. One of the priests would raise the knife, bring it down, tear open the chest, then rip out the victim’s heart, and hold it aloft. He could almost see it, the priest holding the trophy aloft, his hands red with blood running down his arms like red serpents. But what then? He turned around slowly, looking at every part of the room. He knew blood was important. Blood had a place in most of the old stories as did sacrifice. But why the hearts? The Elders had said that once the hearts had been removed, they were burnt as an offering to the gods. That could explain the bowls around the altar’s edges.
Xquic was watching him curiously.
“What are you thinking, Tohil,” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “There are things that I can’t make sense of. Everyone used to perform sacrifices. We know that. But our people do not. We know that the Bird People do, and there are other tribes too. We know that from the others that come to join us in our village, the tales they tell. Are there more like our people that do not perform these sacrifices? Why are we different? The stories about the gods always talk about blood. Always, the heart is part of the sacrifice. But that isn’t the only thing. Look at that carving, the one I was looking at before. I think those are Seelee. But if they are Seelee, why do they appear on the temple walls? Are the Seelee gods? They look different from the gods. Are they spirits? We were always taught to fear the Seelee, yet we haven’t ever seen one. We were always taught to fear the Dark Serpent, but we have never seen it either. Are they just stories meant to scare children?”
“Have we ever seen one of the gods?” asked Xquic.
It was a very good question.
“No, of course you are right,” he said. “But we can see them working in the world. We do not see anything that makes us think that the Seelee even exist.”
“So, what are you looking for?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Tohil with a grimace. “I thought maybe here I would find some answers, but with every step, all I get is more questions.”
She ran her hands slowly back and forth across the altar’s flat stone, not looking at him now.
“So why do you need to know?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I like to understand. I always have.”
“Perhaps that’s why the Elder chose you,” she said looking sideways at him, measuring his reaction.
He didn’t have a response to that, but it was something to consider. He looked around the small dim room once more.
“Tohil! Xquic!” The call came from outside and below, interrupting any further discussion.
Quickly they left the altar room and stepped out onto the platform at the temple’s top, emerging into the light. Down below there was activity. Tepeu and Tzité were holding another figure at bay with their spears, slowly circling him while Oquis was standing nearby swinging his macuahuitl one-handed. Acab was gesturing for them to come down, while Quapar was standing a little back, his atlatl at the ready. Watching his footing, Tohil rapidly descended the stairs.
As he drew closer, he could see that this was a warrior, but not one like any he had seen. He carried a spear and was in a semi-crouch, weapon at the ready, tracking the two boys as they circled him. His entire body was free of paint or adornment apart from a necklace of teeth worn around his neck. The mask he wore was something else. Huge orange and black feathers extended like a corona from a pale blue crescent attached to the mask’s top. His face was completely covered apart from spaces for the eyes, peering through a white and black painted skull. The death mask told him exactly what this warrior was. So, this was one of the Skulls that the boys had spoken about. Tohil quickly looked around the city’s edges and the surrounding trees but of any others, there was no sign for now.
“What should we do?” said Quapar.
“Let’s just kill him,” said Acab. “We can leave him here for the gods.”
The boys kept glancing back towards Tohil as if looking for instruction.
Xquic had retrieved her bow by now and had an arrow nocked the bow half-drawn, ready to fire at the Skull. The warrior was clearly outnumbered.
“Stop,” said Tohil. “Don’t do anything yet.”
He scanned the surroundings again, considering. He had a choice to make here. The Skull would be ready to die. He was a warrior. If they tried to kill him now, he could just as easily wound or even kill one of their own in the process. If they were to take his life, then there would be others of his people. They would come looking, and they would seek vengeance.
“We let him go,” said Tohil.
“What?” said Acab. “What are you saying?”
“We let him go. That’s what I said, Acab.”
Tohil stepped forward moving cautiously up to where the two boys stood with their spears pointed at the Skull.
“We will let you leave,” Tohil addressed to the Skull. “We don’t have a reason to harm you. We are not warriors. We are only passing through on the way to somewhere else. We will be gone soon. There is no glory for you here.” He glanced back up at the temple they had just left and then looked back to the Skull. “Fighting us will do no honour to the gods.” He didn’t even know if the Skull understood his words, but then he had his answer.
Slowly, the Skull lowered his spear and straightened. Tepeu and Tzité still held their spears at the ready, but a quick look showed that Xquic had already relaxed, lowering her bow.
The Skull nodded slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Tohil through the mask.
“Let him go,” Tohil told the boys. They stepped back, keeping spears at the ready, but giving enough space.
“Leave now,” said Tohil.
The Skull looked around at them and then turned. He walked slowly across the clearing, and disappeared over the edge, not once looking back.
“Are you mad?” said Acab as soon as the warrior had left.
“Maybe,” said Tohil. He knew it was a risk. There was nothing to say that the Skull would not be back, bringing more warriors with him, and they had no idea how close other members of his group might be, but it was a gamble he was prepared to take for now.
“I think we should get underway though,” he said. “Let us try to put as much distance as we can between us and this place. The further we are away, the less likely we are to run into them again.”
Acab was muttering beneath his breath, but that was to be expected. Oquis was already collecting his things and the boys had moved back to do the same. Xquic hadn’t yet moved, and she was merely standing there watching him. Quapar was looking from one to the other, something going through his head, but Tohil couldn’t hazard what it was right now. He turned back to gather his stuff.
“Come on, you two,” he said back over his shoulder. “We need to get moving.”
Together, they left the abandoned city, and as the entered the trees and put greater distance between themselves and the encounter, Tohil’s nervousness ebbed. Once again, as they wound their way through the forest, the afternoon rains fell from the sky, but they did little to lessen Tohil’s mood. They had seen the mountains again, they had seen the river, and what he presumed was the white road that Haracan had referred to. They had a long way yet to travel before they reached either of them, but he was certain now that they were back on the right path. There was patchy conversation amongst his companions, but he paid it no mind. His thoughts were buried in what they had discovered in the old city and the implications of the questions it had prompted. Wherever his thoughts roamed, one thing kept coming back and back again. Who exactly, and where were these supposedly powerful Seelee? Were they hiding somewhere? Why had no one seen them? The carving on the temple wall had shown them using weapons, or what he presumed were weapons, that just could not be. You couldn’t use a blowgun from your shoulder. It required a forceful blast of air to propel the pellet. Blowguns didn’t issue fire. And then there was the other carving of the Dark Serpent. Yes, serpents could breathe fire, well, the serpent gods could, but when did a serpent look quite like that? Around and around the thoughts went. He barely noticed the landscape through which they travelled. He placed his feet automatically, avoiding the worst of the fallen branches and other obstacles scattered across the forest floor. The cries of birds and monkeys drifted through the trees unheeded. And as he traipsed on, most of the afternoon simply passed him by. The rains came and went, and still they pushed forward.
“Tohil.”
“Hum?”
“Tohil.” It was Quapar.
“Yes, sorry.”
“How much further are we going to walk?”
He stopped and looked around. They were still surrounded by trees but the light had dimmed visibly.
“Um, I don’t know.”
“Tepeu says that the forest becomes thicker down there. There’s a small river somewhere ahead, but he says that the way gets much harder.”
Tohil looked around him again. The others had stopped as well and were looking at him expectantly. Why was he the one that had to make all the decisions for them? There didn’t seem to be anything that would pass for shelter.
“We may as well stop here,” he said. “But I don’t think we should make a fire.”
“Oh, great idea,” said Acab.
“Listen, the Skull went in a different direction, and we’ve gone quite some distance now, but I don’t think it would be wise to attract attention unnecessarily if we don’t have to. He was a warrior. You know what that means.”
“Yes, and you let him go,” said Acab.
“We can’t change that,” said Tohil, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.
“No, we can’t,” said Acab, turning away, shooting a glance at the boys, and shaking his head.
“So,” said Tohil, trying to ignore the little performance. “Do we stop or do we keep going?”
“I’m fine either way,” said Oquis.
“Stop,” said Quapar. “I want to rest.”
Xquic nodded.
“Good,” said Tohil, easing his burdens from his shoulders. Having done so, he realised that he was feeling a little tired as well. He flexed his arms and back. Oquis had already divested himself of the things he was carrying and had found a large tree that he sat and propped his back against. Tohil found what seemed a relatively dry spot and did the same.
As Quapar was lowering his things and finding a patch of ground, he looked over to Tohil.
“So, what did you two find in the temple?” he asked. “You’ve been pretty quiet about it.”
He nodded and then took a few minutes to describe in detail what they had seen, but keeping his speculations to himself. When he’d done, he turned to Acab.
“You two must have seen something in the other temples back there. Did you find anything interesting?”
Despite his current mood, Acab was always eager to talk, and Tohil hoped that prompting him to do so might lighten the atmosphere that now hung between them. He was right and Acab proceeded to describe at great length what he and Quapar had discovered, with the occasional interruption or addition from his companion. From what he heard, Tohil concluded that the inside of that other temple had none of the strange carvings that he and Xquic had found but then the other two temples in the old city had been smaller.
“Why did they need more than one temple, do you think?” he said as Acab rambled to a close.
“Maybe different gods,” Oquis offered.
“That’s possible,” said Tohil. “Though we can’t go back and check now.”
And it was a possibility, one that he would tuck away for later consideration. If there were places dedicated to the Seelee, then that might explain the differences. Once more, however, it raised the question of what distinguished the Seelee from the gods.
Tohil drifted back into thought as he sat there, listening as Acab replayed the day’s encounter with Tepeu and Tzité, finally receiving some uncharacteristic enthusiasm from the both of them.
He watched them for a while, content to simply observe, and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
It showed itself when it was born and remained fixed [in the sky] like a mirror. Certainly, it was not the same sun which we see, it is said in their old tales.
— Popol Vuh, Part III, Chapter 9
ELEVEN
He stood on open grassland that stretched on and on as far as he could see. The sky above him was bright, cloudless and the sun’s light speared down in shafts so bright it hurt his eyes. Tohil squinted upwards feeling the heat of it pound into his face. Slowly, he turned, looking this way and that, seeking some feature, some landmark by which he could fix his position. Far off in the distance stood mountains, one huge conical peak, slightly broken at the top, projected above all the rest. Back the other way stood more mountains, hills covered in forest creeping upward to meet their base. He was alone on the plain, he carried nothing but his bow, but there was nothing here to hunt, nothing to shoot. His heart hammered in his chest and his mouth grew dry. Though there was nothing here, he felt a sense of danger. Something in the vast empty landscape was not right. Though he could not see what it was, he could feel it all the same. Once more, he looked behind, searching for what it was.
He felt it then and turned cautiously back to the front, crouching in the long grass as he did so. There was nowhere to hide here. The grass only reached as far as his knees. Suddenly, he was no longer alone. There were figur
es here, people. But some of them were not people, or he could not be sure. It was too distant to make out real detail, yet somehow, he knew this to be the case. Far off, in front of him, was a group, standing side by side, moving slowly forward. As they grew nearer, their features became more distinct. Each of them wore something round, covering most of their heads. There were no feathers, no painting. They didn’t wear breechcloths, but something even and smooth that covered their entire bodies like another skin. It was pale, pale, lighter than skin should be. Moments later there were more, seeming to appear out of nowhere. These were different. On one side were ranks and ranks of Bird People, bedecked in bright colours, feathers, eagle masks. All of them carried weapons, spears, macuahuitls, javelins and they held them at the ready. He turned and there, on the other side, ranks of Skulls had appeared all in even lines, also bearing weapons. Step by steady step they approached, grew nearer until he could start to make out there faces within their masks.
His panic rising, Tohil searched the fields, desperate to find any avenue of escape. He looked to one side and then the other. There was nowhere to run without them catching him. The ranks if warriors extended too far, stretching from end to end of the plain. He looked behind himself. Somehow, there, now stood lines of people, normal people like those from his village, simply standing there. They carried no weapons. In their centre stood a group of Elders, their feathered cloaks and jade adornment looking bright and sharp in the searing light. Right in the middle stood Haracan, watching him. He could feel his gaze. He turned back to face the front. Now the Birds and the Skulls had been joined by others, these dressed in the skin of jaguars, both black, and yellow and orange, spotted with dark five-finger marks. They too carried weapons, ready to fight.
He turned back to face the Elders.
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