The Serpent Passage

by Todd Allen Pitts

  “Calakmul is now patrolling our hunting and trade routes,” Lamat said. “Those who ventured beyond our borders have not returned.”

  The King stood with his hands on his hips, and then he pointed to Subiac. “Tell me of our weapons supply.”

  “Weapons will not be an issue, Lord Stone Frog,” Subiac said. “We are ahead of schedule; we will have more weapons than men to carry them.”

  “Speaking of that,” Yax said, spotting the Chief of the royal guard, a wide man who looked more like a walking tree trunk. “Etznab, what is the full count of men able to fight?”

  The Chief glanced at the other captains. “In truth, we are closer to one thousand,” he said in a low monotone voice. Many in our land are too old, too young, or in failing health. We simply do not have enough men for the coming battle.”

  An uncomfortable moment of silence followed, filled only by Yax’s sandals clacking against the plaster floor as he paced around the room, contemplating the bad news. He stared at his long shadow beside him, dancing in the flickering light of the burning torches.

  William took the period of silence to catch Betty up on the situation—about the lack of enough men to fight.

  “How about the women?” Betty asked, drawing everyone’s attention. “If the ladies will be done making the weapons soon, then we might as well get ready to fight!”

  The nobles and warriors stared at Betty with curiosity. They were glued to her words—even though they couldn’t understand her—entranced by her passionate delivery.

  “I’ll take some of those Calakmul scumbags out myself, if I have to,” Betty said. “They’ll be sorry for the day they stopped by this ladies doorstep. That’s for damn sure. What do you say, Teshna? Are you with me on this, girlfriend?”

  A long pause followed as the room’s attention landed on William, expecting him to translate. He considered how to best put it, wanting to be careful not to offend. “Bati is saying that beyond making the weapons, the women could also take part in the battle.”

  Boisterous laughing from the royal guards echoed through the chamber, but stopped when they could see the King contemplating the notion.

  “The women would be slaughtered—cut down as easily as the corn is harvested,” Etznab said.

  “Not if we keep our distance,” Teshna said, “with the bow and the blowgun.”

  Yax paced around the room, considering the idea. He looked each person in the eyes as he past them, making a full lap around the war planning circle. “Yes, I agree to this plan,” he said. “Yet that still does not match their numbers, of five thousand. For that we must determine our battle strategy.”

  The muscular captain stood with a smug smile; his biceps flexed as he spoke, “I say we follow Balam’s plans. Clearly he has the respect of the gods… and of those the gods cherish most,” he said, and gave Teshna a bitter glance.

  “Sit down, Captain Salmac,” Chief Etznab said, with a scolding look at his subordinate. He then considered what Salmac said and looked over to William. “I would welcome your insights, Balam.”

  Yax regarded William and nodded for him to speak.

  “Oh great,” William whispered to Betty. “They want my advice for a battle strategy! What should I say?”

  Betty shrugged.

  William looked to Priest Quisac, hoping he might say something to bail him out. However, the bald Serpent Priest only offered a pleasant smile in return. Everyone waited for William’s response. He had to say something meaningful; he couldn’t let Salmac embarrass him. But the only thing he knew about strategy was in playing board games! William’s face lit up when he thought about the game of chess, for it gave him an idea. “We can tempt the enemy to move to positions that we want them to take—positions that give us the advantage—set traps—attack from places they are not expecting.”

  “Yes!” Yax said. “We will make these traps and draw the enemy into them.” He pointed at Chief Etznab. “Add this strategy to our usual tactics, and also plan to place the women archers at advantageous points.”

  Teshna gave William a proud smile for offering up a good idea, and then lifted her nose Salmac’s way. The zigzag tattoos on Salmac’s face accentuated his look of defeat. It was clear that Salmac had tried to undermine William, but his tactic didn’t work.

  Priest Quisac cleared his throat and stood, drawing everyone’s attention. “My Lord, I must depart to Bacalar tomorrow, to meet with my brothers of the Solar Cult, and to retrieve the sacred items. Balam needs to accompany me as well.”

  William perked up at the idea, realizing it would be his chance to see if there was a way to return to his own time. A long pause followed. Only the sizzle from burning torches could be heard while the King considered Priest Quisac’s request.

  “No, of course not,” Teshna said, breaking the silence. “It’s too dangerous.” She glared at her brother with a look to back her up.

  Yax rubbed his chin. “The sacred items may indeed be useful to us in battle; we would not want them to fall into the wrong hands.” Yax caught Teshna’s worried face, and he pointed to the royal guards. “You would bring a team of warriors with you for protection, of course.”

  The Serpent Priest shook his head. “It must only be the two of us. The stars have spoken of this… twin stars passing beneath Mars at dawn. We will travel a safe and hidden route, and return in four days.”

  Yax sighed. “Well, if the stars say so, then I approve.” he said, drawing an icy stare from his sister. He shrugged in response. “We must obey the will of the Heavens.”

  As the war planning continued late into the night, they discussed the placement of their forces, location of traps, and preparations for the training of the women. William didn’t like how the cocky captain, Salmac, jumped forward, volunteering to work with the women archers. William wondered if Salmac had a thing for Teshna, and if he was using the opportunity to get her attention while he was away. When they left the palace, William offered to teach Teshna some English, to help her communicate with Betty while he was gone, and he made sure that Salmac saw him escorting the Princess out.

  Chapter Nine

  Hiking east through the hilly terrain outside Dzibanché was an exhausting endeavor. They started off down trails, and then veered through the thick brush for the next several hours, bush whacking through the dense jungle. Priest Quisac said the rugged course was safer, and it would reduce the journey by half a day.

  William attempted conversation along the way, but the Serpent Priest told him not to speak, for there were Calakmul scouts in the area. Priest Quisac insisted that he couldn’t be distracted while plotting their course—leaving William alone in his thoughts as they marched on.

  He recalled his conversation with Teshna the night before. He had just finished teaching her some English phrases to use with Betty, when a worried look crept over her. “You go to Bacalar to seek your path home, do you not?” Teshna asked.

  “I need to know if it’s possible to return—or if I’m to spend my life here.”

  “Would that be so bad?” She gave him a warm embrace and a lasting kiss before they parted ways.

  William recalled her sensual kiss—way more enticing than the infrequent cold pecks that his ex-girlfriend used to offer. Yes, Jennifer was definitely his ex-girlfriend, he decided. William had fallen for the Princess, and he liked the idea of staying with her. However, he worried about his mom, and he missed aspects of his old life, too. He hoped the journey to Bacalar would shed some light on his options, and help him to decide what to do.

  Around midday, they stopped at a water hole that Priest Quisac called a chultune, where little mosquitoes buzzed over the surface. The Serpent Priest dropped his pack to the ground and refilled his jug from the greenish water.

  William sat with a heavy thump. “Thank God we’re stopping,” he said, but then remembered that he wasn’t supposed to talk during the trip. He slapped his hands to his mouth with a guilty look.

  Priest Quisac cocked his head, listening f
or a few seconds. “It is safe to speak here.”

  “Oh good,” William said, getting excited. “Can you tell me more about the jade cavern? Do you really think it’s the same place where we were trapped? How do you get inside?”

  “It is not the reason we are traveling to Bacalar,” Priest Quisac said, cutting him off.

  William’s enthusiasm deflated like a balloon letting out its air. “I know you have other things to do there, but I thought you wanted me to come along so you could show me those caverns… to help me figure out if I can get home.”

  “The stars tell me that you are required on this journey to retrieve the sacred items. There is no time for other distractions.”

  A sour look crossed William’s face. “It’s not fair,” he said, tearing through his pack and pulling out his water jug. He guzzled from it with the look of a kid who just had his car keys taken from him. He dipped his jug into the chultune, swishing away the green muck floating on the surface to keep the slime out.

  Priest Quisac noticed William’s upset reaction, and he groaned like a frustrated parent. “Very well, I will take you to the Sacred Cavern of Jade… on the way back.”

  “Really?” William asked, his enthusiasm returning.

  Priest Quisac stood and slung his pack over his shoulder.

  “You mentioned a legend before,” William said, “about a passage in the jade cavern. What’s that about?”

  “It is the ‘Legend of the Serpent Passage.’ I will speak of this when we make camp this evening. For now, we must continue.”

  Dark clouds drifted in from the east, followed by a thunderstorm that pounded on the trees overhead. Though protected from the intensity of the rainfall, they still got soaked, which for William was a welcome relief. After an hour, the storm blew past. The heat of the sun dried their clothes, leaving them sticky and sweaty in the humid climate.

  They weaved a zigzag path through the jungle for several hours until emerging from the brush onto a wider trail. “This path shall lead us the remainder of the way to Bacalar,” Priest Quisac said. “We must proceed with caution.”

  They continued along until darkness obscured their way, and then moved a short distance off the trail to find a safe place to camp for the night.

  “I had hoped to reach the great cenote by this time,” Priest Quisac said. “We must conserve our water supply until then.”

  “Can we make a fire?” William asked. He set his pack beside a tree and used it as a pillow to lean against.

  “I know it is dark, but we do not wish to attract the attention of others at this point in our journey. You will find the light within your dreams.”

  “But you promised to tell me about that legend… of the Serpent Passage.”

  “That I did,” Priest Quisac said. “However, rather than tell you in my own words, I will channel the story to you from the voice of a Serpent Priest who has long since left this plane. He spoke the legend to me when I was very young, just as it was told to him when he was a child.”

  “Oh, cool.”

  The Serpent Priest sat cross-legged and took several deep breaths. His silver eyes rolled back, reflecting a reddish glow from the bloodstone radiating off William’s chest. “In memory of this day, of baktuns past, let it be known,” Priest Quisac said in a strange voice as vivid images began appearing in William’s mind. “On the day of the longest night, a creature arrived in our land. From the Sacred Cavern of Jade, came he. Standing as a man, was he—with skin of a lizard and hair of feathers. Came he to be known as Gukumatz, the feathered serpent. Come, did he say, to harvest his crops and to collect his seeds.”

  Priest Quisac let out a heavy sigh and then continued channeling. “Gukumatz was not pleased, for his crops had not flourished. Sent, did he, the chupacabras into the world, to destroy the last of the Olmec—to break the skulls and collect the seeds. In another world was his home, said he. On the day of the longest day, Gukumatz left our land. Through the Serpent Passage, went he. Thus it be known, in memory of this day, of baktuns past.”

  Priest Quisac slumped back, shook his head, and spoke in his own voice again. “That is the legend told to me,” he said, while giving William a curious stare. “Tell me now… what are your thoughts on this legend?”

  While chewing on a piece of dried meat from his rations, William mulled it over for a long while, still seeing the image of the strange serpent creature in his head. “Are the feathered serpents real?”

  “They are physical beings that live beneath our world. I have not encountered one for many tuns.”

  “You mentioned chupacabras,” William said. “My grandfather blames the chupacabras for anything really bad that happens… like when his horse died… or when my leftover birthday cake disappeared.”

  “All legends have an origin of truth,” Priest Quisac said. He retrieved his cotton mat from his pack, rolled it out, and lied down. William did the same, and they both gazed into the stars. “What else did you gather from the legend?” the Serpent Priest asked.

  “Well… the legend said Gukumatz arrived on the day of the longest night. That’s the winter solstice… the longest night of the year. He returned home on the day of the longest day. That’s the summer solstice… the longest day of the year.”

  “It is indeed. That is also the very day you arrived from the Serpent Passage—the day of the summer solstice.”

  William wished he had his watch to double check, but he had given it to Yax. “I’m not sure of the exact date I arrived.”

  “The night you made your appearance on the temple was the evening of the summer solstice,” Priest Quisac said with confidence. “It is why the sacrifices were planned for that night.”

  “It has to be the same place,” William said, remembering their journey underwater, and the serpent carvings he saw on both ends of the tunnel. “We went through the Serpent Passage!”

  After further discussion of the legend, they agreed that Gukumatz traveled to the future on the day of the winter solstice to harvest something he had planted in the race of the Olmecs. He then went back in time on the day of the summer solstice to return with the seeds he had collected.

  “It’s the opposite of my problem,” William said. “My home is in the future, while his home was in the past. But what were the seeds that Gukumatz wanted to collect from the skulls of the Olmec?”

  “That is not known,” the Serpent Priest said. “This occurred near the end of the Olmec civilization, many baktuns ago, and it led to their demise.”

  William rolled onto his side and regarded the Serpent Priest. “That’s too bad for the Olmec… but great news for me! If the legend is true, it means I can go back to my own time. I just have to wait for the winter solstice, and…” He slapped his hand to his forehead. “But the Serpent Passage is underwater… and those crocodiles ate my scuba gear!”

  “Let us sleep on the matter,” the Serpent Priest said, with a yawn. “Perhaps we will discover a solution between now and the coming solstice.”

  William wondered how long he could hold his breath, and he practiced as he lied there. However, the day’s strenuous activities caught up with him, and when he let out his held breath, William fell asleep.

  After a quick breakfast before sunrise, they were back on their feet and plodding down the plaster trail again. About an hour along, the Cenote Azul came into view. William smiled at the lake, somehow feeling comforted by his connection to it. “In my time, there’s a restaurant over there,” William said, pointing to his left as they neared the water’s edge.

  Priest Quisac scanned the vicinity, looking concerned.

  “Is something wrong?” William asked.

  “The great cenote is blessed every morning at dawn. I had expected to find the brothers of the Solar Cult here.” He shot a look down the trail as approaching voices could be heard.

  “Is that them?”

  “Silence!” Priest Quisac whispered. “We must hide.”

  They ducked behind the brush at the water
’s edge just as six warriors armed with spears came around the bend in the trail. One of the warriors seemed to hear something. He shouted to the others, and they ran down the trail, heading in the direction that he and Priest Quisac had just traveled earlier that morning.

  “Who were those guys?” William asked.

  “Calakmul warriors. They are hunting. We must wait for them to return to Bacalar before proceeding.”

  “What are they doing in Bacalar?”

  Priest Quisac shook his head. “It is what we must find out.”

  A couple hours passed as they sat there on the damp ground, under the cover of the tall grass. They remained still, listening with extreme concentration for any sign of the returning warriors.

  William became antsy just waiting there, swatting at mosquitoes. The collective buzz of insects became annoying too, like the hum of a smoke detector going off in the distance. He began to think the warriors weren’t coming back. “Maybe they were just passing through,” William whispered.

  The Serpent Priest raised his hand in a gesture to be quiet, tilting his head toward the trail. “No, they are coming. Be still.”

  He couldn’t hear anything at first, but then footsteps and chatter became audible. William crouched lower. The warrior’s conversation had a jubilant tone as they neared. They laughed with each other as they filled their jugs from the lake. Their voices faded into the distance as they departed back up the trail toward Bacalar.

  Priest Quisac glanced at William. “They killed a boar and spoke of a feast tonight. The King of Calakmul likely dispatched a team to capture the village before the priests could escape with the sacred items.”

  They picked up their packs, shuffled through the brush, and filled their jugs from the cenote. William stripped down to his loin cloth and slipped into the water to get refreshed. “There must be a lot of warriors there… to overthrow Bacalar,” he said as he climbed out of the lake.

  Priest Quisac shook his head. “Bacalar is no longer the powerful nation it once was. Only the brothers of the Solar Cult remain. The strength of our people—the Itzae—now resides in Chichén Itzá.”