Sisimito II--Xibalba

by Henry W. Anderson

  I tried to calm down. I knew that when the male was about to mate, he roared loudly and frequently. The young male was not doing that, just walking calmly along with me, then he made his move. He roared, took a paw and hit me on the side, the nails withdrawn. I stopped walking as he began to sniff me, his head under my skirt. I slowly lifted my right hand and slowly started removing my machete from its scabbard. I would have to kill that magnificent animal and I would have to do it unexpectedly and quickly, or it would kill me. It suddenly stopped sniffing me. I stopped. He started sniffing me again and I continued removing the machete. I felt him beginning to mount me, the weight of his body on me, his claws holding my back. I leapt upward, did a half-turn, and brought the machete down heavily towards his head. He leaped to the side, looking at me with bright golden reddish-brown eyes, as if confused. He quickly recovered and stood up roaring with anger, opened his large mouth, spittle flying, and displayed his long and sharp teeth. He hurled towards me off his hind legs, a slender and muscular dominant beauty, roaring once again. I sprung away from his leap going as high as I could. I made another half-turn towards Ix Balanque, again bringing the machete down heavily towards his head. That time I heard the crunch of bone and felt the machete tearing apart his skull, entering his head and going into his neck. He didn’t make a sound, stood momentarily, his eyes still open, still looking puzzled, then he sank to the creek, his Sacred life-blood fountaining over me. I stood in shock, staring at the magnificent animal, cussing myself, hating myself for murdering the noble animal, crying out in anger, wondering if there was something else I could have done. I knelt beside Ix Balanque and I roared and I roared until the whole of Baläm Ja echoed with my roar. Yet, deep down I knew that Ix Balanque, once he had positioned himself on my back, would have known in less than a second that I was not of his kind and he would have placed his powerful jaws over my skull, between my ears, and crushed it as if it were a squash.

  I pulled the Sacred animal, gently, onto a nearby sani-bay. I was standing, but I did not care. My eyes swelled with tears. I was from my jungle. I loved and knew the ways of my animals. I was not going to leave that Sacred animal to rot in the creek, that sacred animal who had fought with the majakuta baläm over me and won that battle. He was Ix Balanque and as long as I was in Baläm Ja, I, me, would honor the baläms there. I took off my headdress, then my skirt, and placed them neatly beside Ix Balanque. I kept on my knife and replaced my machete into its scabbard. The young male’s blood was scattered on the small sani-bay, but I also noticed drops of blood falling to the sand. I reached to my back and felt the warm moisture of my own blood and felt deep cuts made by his claws. I had not even felt his claws entering my body as I had leaped from him. I knelt beside him and cupped my hands, scooping the blood that was still pouring from out his wound and I covered my body and weapons with his blood, eliminating all the white that was there, leaving only the red of his blood.

  I placed him as best I could, lay him as if he were sleeping. I even put a flat stone under his head so that he was looking up to Ah Tabai and Yum Kaax, Gods of the Hunt. I faced the west and, kneeling down, prayed to Zac-Cimi to bless the soul of that Sacred, young, and virile Ix Balanque that he may have a long and mighty life in the plane of Yaxché he was going to, and that he reveled with Kinich Ahau during the god’s night journeys to the Underworld city of Xibalba. I stood up, faced the north and said the same prayer to Can-Tzicnal, then to Hobnil to the east, then to Hozanek to the south. When I was finished, I kneeled to my opponent and said, “I will call you Noh-il,374 for that is what you are. Greatness! I took the remaining bones from out the headdress and continued walking, upright, up the creek, not looking back.

  The deep chesty coughing and whistling of the baläms were everywhere, but they mostly stayed away. Those that I saw watched me and, occasionally, a young female would approach, roaring at me, showing her teeth. I would throw one of the bones which she picked up and then disappeared into the pale blue-grey light among the boulders. Finally, I threw away all the remaining bones I carried. Once, two ek baläms were on boulders on either side of me. They simply gazed at me, not showing any aggressive behavior, just kept looking at me. I did not take out my machete from its scabbard for I no longer had any fear as I walked through the waters of the creek, naked except for Bas’ Green Scapular, my belted knife, all covered in my blood and the blood of the young and virile Ix Balanque I had murdered. I felt worse than fokin shit.

  I reached the end of the creek where it disappeared beneath ground. I did not feel any danger of being attacked, but I looked for a place to remain as Kish had told me. I found a deep and narrow crevice and slid into it. I took out my machete and knife and placed them beside me and slowly, calmly, fell asleep in the darkness. But I slept uneasily, troubled, for even though I felt safe, the whistling, coughs, and roars of the baläms were always present, sometimes close, sometimes afar. Then all became quiet and I slept deeply, in profound sadness, in anguish for the great Ix Balanque I had murdered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RAZOR HOUSE: U-YEH JA

  FIFTH TRIAL HOUSE - SIXTH TRIAL

  K’iin 5 - The Uinal of Yaxk’in’

  Friday, May 4,1973

  Waach! Are you ready to leave Baläm Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyph of the Great Death God, Hun-Came, sitting on the Baläm Nimalaj T’uyulibal?”

  I tried to get up out of the narrow and shallow chasm, but my body reacted violently with pain across my back where Ix Balanque’s nails had entered, and every muscle in my body cramped. I bit my lower lip so as not to cry out in pain. I was finally able to get onto my knees and, holding onto the edges of the rocks, I pulled myself up, continuously biting down on my teeth to stop myself from screaming. I sweated from the pain, but slowly dragged myself onto the boulders.

  “Waach! Are you ready to leave Baläm Ja, the House of Trials that carries the glyph of the Death God, Hun-Came, sitting on the Baläm Nimalaj T’uyulibal?” The call was more urgent that time.

  “I am ready to leave Baläm Ja,” I shouted. “Waach has won the trial.” I hoped he heard me.

  I saw a bleak glimmer of light away in the distance as the door opened and I climbed down the boulders into the creek. Every movement was painful and my back felt like lava was flowing on it. I looked around with each step. There were no baläms anywhere. When I reached the sani-bay where Noh-il and I had fought, he was no longer there and there were no traces of his blood, only my headdress and my skirt were there. I picked them up. I kept going, trying to walk as quickly as I could to the opened door where Kish waited, but I was weak and growing weaker rapidly.

  I stumbled out of the door. “I am hurt, Kish,” I said, quietly. “I grow weaker with every trial. I don’t know if I can continue.”

  “And you cry, Waach.”

  “Yes! I cry, but I do not cry for me. These tears are because I am a murderer. I murdered Noh-il because he wanted to pay me an honor, an honor I could not accept.”

  “And who is Noh-il, Waach?”

  “Noh-il was a young, strong, virile, and beautiful Warrior.”

  Kish looked at me. I saw concern in his eyes, but he showed no sympathy. I handed him the skirt and headdress. He took them then stepped into Baläm Ja and left them there. “Follow me,” he said and turned, leading me to the Chamber of the Council Place of the Lords. Once again, he remained absolutely quiet during the whole walk. The steps we ascended to the chamber were bathed with the bright red glow of Xibalba’s morning. I had trouble walking up the steps and twice I almost fell because of the growing weakness I felt. Kish did not help me. As we entered the chamber, there was no hush from the spectators. Instead, there was a growing, almost cheerful, murmur as we walked to take our places on the stand before the statues of the Death Gods. I faced the Gods and Lords of Xibalba, weak and dizzy, and they looked at me with great puzzlement and awe.

  The Ahau Can Mai came through the arched doorway to my right, walking restlessly, his face
very agitated. He stood in front of the Death Gods and the Demon Lords of Xibalba. He bowed, very apprehensive, and said, “My Lords. Waach has again won. He has won his fifth trial. Waach spent the night in Baläm Ja and has returned … alive.”

  Vucub-Came stood, his countenance expressionless. “So, Ahau Can Mai. You bring us the same news again.”

  Ahau Can Mai spoke as if he were expecting to be executed then and there. “Yes, My Lord,” he replied, his expression haunted.

  Vucub-Came turned to me. “So, Waach, you have won the fifth trial.”

  “I have, My Lord. And while in Baläm Ja, I shared blood with the Sacred Ix Balanque and was victorious in battle.

  The noise from the crowd, sounding almost like an ovation, was intense and continuous until Hun-Came held up his hand, when they became silent again. He called his brother to him and they spoke briefly.

  “Waach!” said Vucub-Came.

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Hun-Came, Death God and Lord of Xibalba, in his great wisdom, has decided to stop these trials and proceed directly to the ballgame.” There was loud applause from the tiers.

  “My Lord. And what will happen to my remaining Warriors?”

  “One has already been released. He awaits you in the lower chamber. The other Warriors will remain here in Xibalba, regardless of the outcome of the ballgame. Of course, you will be defeated.” There was some halfhearted cheering from the tiers and Vucub-Came glanced wrathfully towards the citizens there. He looked back to me, glaring.

  “Then I must ask, My Lord, that I continue these trials. I must free all my Warriors.” Murmurs began to increase among the crowd, once again.

  “Hun-Came sees that you are weak and grow weaker with each House of Trials you enter. The Great Lord of Xibalba fears you will not win another trial; that you will not be able to play the ballgame, a sport he wishes to see, a contest all of Xibalba wishes to see.” He raised his arms to the crowd and they responded with loud shouts of agreement. “Hun-Came does not see you surviving two more houses.”

  “I will survive, My Lord. I will survive,” I said, as loudly as I could. The crowd was immediately quiet, knowing that I was openly confronting the Lords of Xibalba.

  “My Lord,” interrupted Kish, bowing deeply. “Should Waach fail in either of the next two trials, I will lead his team in the ballgame.”

  “That is the second time you have intervened on Waach’s behalf, Chief Guard of Xibalba,” stated Vucub Came, peering at Kish.

  Kish bowed again. “Yes, My Lord. Waach has proven himself as a worthy Warrior of Xibalba. He has won the trials only Hunahpu and Xbalanque have won. For a mere Warrior of U Wach Ulew to accomplish that, he must have the blessings of the Great Ek Chuah. Perhaps the Great War Chief has further plans for Waach. It may provide great sport to see what they are.”

  Vucub-Came turned and spoke to Hun-Came then faced me and the crowd. “The trials will continue.” There was an immediate festive outburst from the Xibalbans. Hun-Came moved a little on the Baläm Nimalaj T’uyulibal. Vucub-Came sat on his lesser Nimalaj T’uyulibal, indicating to the Ahau Can Mai to take over.

  “Tonight, Waach, you will enter U-yeh Ja, the House of Trials of the Death God, Vucub-Came. You will face the living u-yehs.”

  “Ahau Can Mai,” I answered.

  “And now, Xibalbans,” he continued as he opened his arms, “Remember to place your bets.” Loud noise and shuffling returned to the chamber.

  “They are no longer betting that you will lose. They are betting that you will win,” said Kish, under his breath. “I don’t think the Lords of Xibalba are pleased.”

  I was sweating, feeling hot, and becoming disorientated. “I think I will fall, Kish. You have to help me.”

  “Don’t!” he ordered. “Do not show any weakness. Hold on until they leave and then I will help you.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You can and you will, Waach.”

  The Death Gods stood and were, immediately, followed by all in the tiered seating. The Demon Lords rose and the small procession proceeded out of the chamber. Once they had disappeared through the arched doorway, the Xibalbans began rushing from their seats into the nearby rooms.

  “Ko’one’ex,” said Kish. I fell to the floor.

  Kish caught Chiac before he reached the floor and, for the second time in two days, he carried Chiac hurriedly down to the room below. The three guards at the door stepped aside and Kish hurriedly put Chiac on the table.

  “Oh madafok!” shouted Teul, the four men gathering around Kish. “He’s covered with blood.” Teul put his hands on him. “And he’s burning.” Teul shook his head, once again fearing for Chiac’s life. “Freezing. Burning. Always bloodied, hurt, and in pain.”

  “Give me space and give him air,” ordered Kish, and the men moved away, but only a very short distance. Kish rolled Chiac onto his belly and examined his back. “He has been clawed by Ix Balanque.” Kish lifted his head, looking up as if trying to make a decision. “Clean him up. Right away. Use water, oils, anything.” He looked to the two guards in the room. “Help them. You know what to do. Clean the wounds. They are already turning black with rot. Puh streams from them. Get everything out until it bleeds, even when he screams.” I’m going for Emataly and Nikai,” shouted Kish, as he rushed from the room.

  “Hasn’t he bled enough? Hasn’t he suffered enough?” yelled Teul, but Kish was already gone.

  The two guards took over immediately. They first used oil and cloth from a basket Emataly and Nikai kept for cleaning Chiac. They were quick and efficient, rubbing and cleaning while Teul, Choco, Choc, and Robertson held him down, totally ignoring the screams coming from Chiac’s mouth as they scrubbed the deep wounds made by Ix Balanque’s claws. Four wounds ran from below the neck to below the waist on each side of his back.

  Teul and the men suffered, trying to shut out the screams, wanting to take some of the pain, but knowing they could do nothing. Once the wounds were cleansed, the guards worked on the rest of his body and Chiac remained calm, moaning only now and again.

  Emataly, Nikai, and Kish rushed into the room just as the guards had finished cleaning Chiac and had laid him on his side. They hurried over to him, fright evident on the women’s faces, Kish expressionless. The women put down their baskets and examined the wounds, blood oozing from them. Emataly looked to the guards and nodded. The guards acknowledged and went to stand bedside Teul, mixing with the men. It was the first time the guards had done that. Kish put a pot of glowing embers he carried into a corner. It contained a jar.

  “He is strong,” said one of the guards. “The name Waach is being spread throughout Xibalba.”

  “That is all good, but the Xibalbans are not the ones being mauled and beaten and burned every day and night,” responded Teul, angrily. “I don’t think he can live through another night of this, thismadafok madness. I don’t think he can even live through another of your treatments.”

  “He will live because he has the will to live. His victory is in living.” The guard smiled. “He is a true Warrior. He is a great Nacon. He suffers willingly to save the lives of his Warriors of which you are one.” He looked at Teul. “My name is Ichik.375

  Teul hesitated then responded. “My name is Teul.” Ichik nodded and Teul continued, his voice controlled. “Why is he so ill, Ichik? He burns with fever and his wounds are black. Like gangrene. Yellow koropshan is pouring out. How could that happen so quickly?”

  “Koropshan?”

  “Puh.”

  Ichik nodded. “The wounds of Ix Balanque are difficult to treat as we rarely need to treat them. The competitor is usually dead. Also, it is very uncommon for Ix Balanque to be in Baläm Ja. It is a great honor to fight Ix Balanque. It is the greatest of honors to defeat Ix Balanque in battle.”

  “Madafok gods and lords,” snorted Teul. “And madafok honor.” Ichik stared at Teul and frowned deeply, in puzzlement.

  Kish came u
p to Teul and Ichik. “Emataly and Nikai need to sew the wounds so that he can be ready for tonight. We need you to hold him down.”

  “I thought you were his friend, Kish,” barked Teul. “Get him ready for tonight? That is suicide. Maybe it is better if it is over. I don’t want him to suffer anymore. End it, Kish.”

  “I will not. Furthermore, I cannot kill Waach, and the Goddess Ixtab plays no role in Waach’s journey. I have no control on whether he dies in the trials or not, but I do have control over whether he is or is not as ready as possible for each night.”

  “And who the madafok is Ixtab, Kish?” asked Teul, sneeringly. “Would Ixtab help Waach?”

  “Ixtab is the Goddess of Suicide. In the Underworld, Waach cannot take his own life. Now, let’s get ahead. We have no time to waste, Teul. Will you and your men hold down Waach?” Teul hesitated. “Ichik!” ordered Kish.

  “Chief Guard!”

  “We need three of you to hold down Waach.” Ichik nodded and got two additional guards from the doorway.

  Teul and the men sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, not wanting to hear Chiac’s screams again. The guards placed Chiac on his stomach and held him firmly. Emataly and Nikai each took needles made from bone and strung them with pohoc.376 The women began working immediately, applying a poultice then starting to sew the eight long wounds.

  “Is he dead?” asked Teul.

  “No!” answered Kish, roughly.