“I am relieved to hear that, Kish. Thank you. But how did you breach the wall?” I asked. “You didn’t have tools.”
“The city wall is not strongly built. It is more of a demarcation than a protective wall. Who is there to attack Xibalba from the Wastelands? No one. As we assembled there, waiting to mobilize, we used ba’ats, maquahuitls, and short bate’s to dig a narrow tunnel to the Wastelands. That was slow, but we completed the task. From there we travelled as planned. The Red Team was not used to walking through the Wastelands and, even though I had provided them with lej-xajäbs, the men had great difficulties, especially since it wasn’t the time of Kinich Ahau’s journey in the Underworld and it was dark. Yet, we advanced well and by the blessings of Ek Chuah arrived at the height of the battle. At that time, Chiac, and I repeat, you made a decision that was not the strategic decision of a T’oit’ik-jolom. You almost lost your head for it, and for that lack in judgement we almost lost the battle as well.”
Reprimanded again. I looked hard at Kish. I felt like fokin shit, but instead of keeping my mouth shut, I tried to defend my action. “I can’t understand why my wanting to fight rather than to be protected and useless, wanting to do my part in the battle, was not the act of a T’oit’ik-jolom?”
“Once you no longer had on your headdress, pati’, and huipil you became the Golden Warrior. Your part was to remain alive and on your feet so that your presence gave hope to your Warriors and fear to your enemies. When the Golden Warrior went down many of our Warriors became fearful, while the enemy became fiercer, more daring, more heroic. You were losing, Chiac, when my Warriors and I arrived. When we stormed onto the sacbeob, the enemy thought that we were only the beginning of a larger force, and when they saw me, their Kaloonte’, and since they had already lost Xiuhcoatl and the other Nacons, many of them who were faithful to me put down their weapons and stood beside those weapons. Those Warriors, most of them waachs, did not kneel in surrender, Chiac, as that is not the Way of the Warrior. They stood proudly, waiting to be killed if I commanded it. I immediately called a halt to the battle. Those of the enemy who were still fighting, seeing that their fellow Warriors had all laid down their arms, did so as well. We now have twenty-eight fit Warriors to add to our numbers.”
“And the wounded and dead?”
“The wounded Death and Demon Guards are being helped and will be left here to be taken back to Xibalba by their comrades that are coming to engage us. As they have been loyal to the Death Gods, they will be cured and continue their former lives. We will not be here when their comrades arrive.”
“How many are dead and wounded?” And the question I was afraid to ask, “How many are ours?”
“I will leave you with Yochi and Ichik for that information. I have to get Warriors to strip the dead.”
“Strip the dead?”
“Questions again, Chiac? We need cloth to wrap the wounds of the wounded. We all need bate’s and ba’ats when we battle the síina’ans,” explained Kish, harshly. “We need armor.” He turned away then back. “If you ever do anything again to endanger the success of this mission, your mission, you will no longer be Nacon. You will be waach and known by no other name than Waach.”
He was angry with me, but I still had a question to ask. “What do you mean, ‘Battle the síina’ans?’”
He stared at me. “What did you think, Chiac? Did you think that we would just jump into the Nim-ja’ Tí Síina’ans and simply swim to U Wach Ulew? Why do you think it is called Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans? Yochi and Ichik will now take over and answer your questions. I have to make preparations for our next battle.” He walked away then looked back. “We do not have time for many questions.”
“Among the Death and Demon Guards,” began Yochi, “there are fourteen badly wounded and fifty-eight dead. Those that were near death, we helped them on their journey with honor.” I could not help but grimace at that remark and how casually it was made. “The other twenty-eight Warriors are all with us. They have wounds, but they will be able to fight. Of our Warriors, everyone has wounds except the Red Team and its Warriors who arrived with Kish and Iztali just before the battle ended. Taat also is not wounded as he stood to the side among the boulders and used his wik’iaq with great effect. My six Warriors and three of Ichik’s died the deaths of Warriors. Yochi and Ichik both hit their chests, but no emotion showed in their eyes. All seven of Teul’s Warriors are dead, but they too died as Warriors and not as slaves. They will hold high places when they return to Xibalba. Four of the Warriors protecting the Black Team also died.”
“Was Chicahua among them?” I interrupted.
“No. He’s alive. That makes a total of twenty-one dead. There are now twenty-eight of us remaining and with the twenty-eight new Warriors, we have a total of fifty-six Warriors.”
“You did not mention any wounded, Yochi.”
“Those of our Warriors that were severely wounded and could not continue on our mission chose to die as Warriors rather than return to Xibalba and be cured by the Death Gods. If they had returned, because they were not loyal to the Death Gods in this battle, they would have lived as slaves as long as they lived in Xibalba, or suffer many painful deaths. That they died as Warriors, when they return to Xibalba they will live at the station they deserve. The other wounded will fight with their wounds.”
“You killed our own men? How could you do that?” I glowed.
Yochi stared at me. “Yes! I did. They died the Way of the Warrior. As a Warrior, they would have had nothing less. Many times, Chiac, your words disturb me.”
Robertson had approached earlier with Taat who was translating for him. He intervened, speaking in English. “We may not be used to their Warrior Code, Chiac, but even in our time there were Warriors who would have wanted nothing less.”
“What the fok are you talking about, Robertson?”
“Well, there were many. From this part of the globe, that is in our other world, there was the great Dr. Ernesto “Che” Guevara who was from Argentina.”
“I don’t have time for this, Robertson.” I held my head. It hurt like fok. “I just don’t have time for your explanations and stories.”
“It may help you accept that, throughout history, a basic Warrior Code exists for each ethnic nation. You and I may not understand it, but it exists.”
I shook my head, immediately sorry that I did it. “I suppose I have no choice but to listen,” I remarked, harshly.
Robertson beamed. “He was recently murdered in Bolivia on October 9, 1967, at the young age of thirty-nine, for his fight against the suppression of the rights of indigenous people. Che was a Marxist revolutionary, a politician, author, physician, military theorist, and guerrilla leader during the Cuban revolution. Following his death, he became both a stylized countercultural icon and symbol of rebellion for leftist movements worldwide. He died the death of a Warrior and I don’t think he would have wanted it any other way.” Robertson was obviously very happy with his remarks.
We all gaped at him.
“What was he saying?” asked Yochi. “He used that strange tongue.”
I shook my head, again to my great distress. “He was talking about a great Warrior. He sometimes talks out of turn and even when he uses that strange tongue, which I understand, many times I still don’t know what the fok he is saying or why he said it.” Yochi raised his forehead and turned up his eyes. “So, we are fifty-six Warriors.” I gave a great sigh. “Please tell me about the men in the Black Team.”
Yochi pointed to Choco, Taat, and Robertson. “Those three, as you see, they can still battle. It was only Choco’s ability as a Warrior that kept his entrails inside his body. Rhys’ left shoulder was dislocated. We fixed it, but it will be useless for some k’iins. Yet, he will still be able to fight. Choc will also be able to fight. He has many bruises and is swollen and cut all over. Nothing that keeps a Warrior from doing his duty.”
“And Teul?”
“Teul has p
roved himself a great Warrior. Unfortunately, he was standing where Chicahua’s ch’ab fell. He ran all this way with the ch’ab in his leg, entered the battle and fought bravely.” Yochi laughed. “Now he’s afraid to have the ch’ab removed. We may just hit him over the head with a maquahuitl and take it out.”
“That’s okay, Yochi,” I said quickly. “I will go to him.”
Yochi looked at me and shook his head. “I was only joking about hitting him over the head.” I couldn’t believe that Yochi was giving a joke. “The ch’ab is already out. He was very brave … after four Warriors held him down.”
“That madafoka howled like a k’éek’en440 being castrated. He’ll never live that down,” commented Choco, chuckling. “Taat bandaged him up and he’s already walking around like nothing happened to him. Tough madafoka.”
Yochi glanced around us. “Kinich Ahau’s chariot is here and the Xibalba sky grows red. It is time for us to go to the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans. I will go to Kish to finish our preparations.”
“And the Red Team?”
“We will soon be having a briefing. You will meet them then.” I sighed with relief. He hesitated. “The Red Team, they are now my Warriors. They are replacing my six Warriors that died in battle. Now sit, Chiac, and rest a little more. The gold in your skin shines weakly. You will need it to be bright when we reach the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans.”
“None of the Black Team is dead,’ I muttered.
“No, Chiac. Even in battle, we protected them. That is also our duty. He hesitated then added, “They followed orders.” With that Yochi left taking Robertson, Taat, and Choco with him.
I sat on the sacbeob to Xibalba, my hands holding my head, in pain, but very relieved that none of both my sections had died, trying not to think of those who had been killed. I had not had much time to think after the ballgame, but as I sat, confusion and bewilderment set in as I tried to understand how the men from my first section came to be in Xibalba and in the Red Team. They had all been killed on the mountain top during Expedition Bold. All except Bas had their thighs cut off; nine thighs were smoked and eaten by Sisimito’s guests at his wedding party, the tenth thigh eaten raw by Sisimito. Their murders had occurred before I was brought by Sisimito into this strange land. Now those men were back with me. I knew that I would have to simply accept that there was not going to be an answer to how or why they were here. It was just part of being in an outlandish land, a different world. Perhaps, it was their contact with Sisimito that brought them here to Xibalba. I didn’t know. I most probably would never know, but then knowing was not as important as having the chance to be with Bas and the men from Expedition Bold once again. For that, I needed no explanation.
I was still not myself. If I moved my head too quickly, I became dizzy. I decided to follow Yochi’s advice. I lay down on my side and closed my eyes.
I awoke to Ichik kicking me on the rump. “Get up, Nacon. Kaloonte’ is ready.” I sat up, feeling much better. No one was around me. Ichik put out his hand and pulled me up. I nodded thanks. He gesticulated down the sacbeob. All our Warriors were gathered in one place, all covered with blood and black dirt, all wearing armor and fully armed with weapons. The dead Warriors were laid out, each having one weapon beside him. “I have your armor and weapons,” Ichik told me.
The Warriors parted and Kish and the Red Team walked towards me. It was then I almost lost myself, I was so overcome with emotions. Hulse, Anderson, Taylor, Clarke, Parham, and Bas were walking towards me. I reached up and held Bas’ Green Scapular. We stood facing each other, Kish and Ichik standing to the side. I couldn’t say a word, but I felt my skin getting very warm and saw the golden glow brighten with my deep feelings.
“Well flippin-potato-cloth-dog,” commented Hulse. “The Golden Boy. Is that display for us?”
That broke my mesmerizing for I was completely surrounded by my section from Expedition Bold and, for that moment in time, I was very happy. We were hugging each other, slapping each other on the backs, talking, questioning.
“You don’t have your glasses,” I joked with Clarke. “Nor your camera.”
“Unfortunately, they didn’t come with me. I do miss the camera, but the glasses, I don’t need them here. This is the best eye sight I’ve ever had,” he chuckled. “I see all the women clearly.”
“Ahem!” mouthed Taylor.
I looked for Bas. He had somehow managed to stay a little apart. I went up to him. I didn’t know what to say. His face was still bruised and swollen and I saw that there were tears in his eyes as he looked at me. “I missed you Bas,” I blurted out. “I have always blamed myself for what happened to you.”
He frowned. “You weren’t responsible, Stephen. Sisimito was the one who shot me. It wasn’t even friendly fire.” He reached over and held his Green Scapular. “I see you still have it. Bloodied, but you still have it.” I looked down at the Green Scapular and started to take it off. “No,” he said. “I gave it to you and you need its Blessings.” He smiled. “We’re from different worlds now, my friend.” I knitted my forehead, realizing the bitter truth in what he said. Although we were together then, the future would separate us once more.
“I no longer use the name, Stephen,” I said. I had no idea why I said that, at that time. It was really irrelevant to Bas and I. I, nevertheless continued, “In this world I am called Fuck.”
“Fuck?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Another day.”
“Let’s join the other Warriors,” ordered Kish. “We leave very soon. I have put my ears to the ground. Many more Death and Demon Guards are on their way.”
We all gathered about Kish and I spoke. “Xibalba protocol demands that as I am the one who stated that I wanted to leave Xibalba, I have to draw up the plans to do that. Using the cunning and wit of Hunahpu and Xbalanque, as part of my plan, I have delegated Nabe Kaloonte’ Kish to provide strategic planning for our attack on the síina’ans.” I nodded to Kish.
Kish began. “We are now preparing for battle against the síina’ans as it is only through the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans that we can escape Xibalba and the Underworld. We are Warriors. We will be no less. I am Nabe Kaloonte’. Yochi is Ukab Kaloonte ‘.441 We will have two platoons, one under me and the other under Yochi, each with two sections. Fuck, Ichik, Ikan, and Iztali are Nacons and each will have a section. Yochi will have Fuck and twelve Warriors; his other section will be Ichik and thirteen Warriors. My platoon will have Ikan and thirteen Warriors, and Iztali and twelve Warriors. When we reach the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans, we will have to attract the síina’ans and have them come completely out of the nim-ja’ or else we will not be able to get to their stings and claws. We have to remove or at least severely damage the stings and claws or we will lose the battle and never leave. We will beat the bank with our weapons, in unison, and continue until all four have risen from the waters.”
“Are there only four?” I asked.
“Yes, Nacon. Four, but four are more than enough as you will see.
“Are you sure and is there a reason why there are only four?” I continued. Kish glared at me. “I am just trying to understand everything about them. I just want to be certain. I do not want to be surprised by a fifth. You were not sure how many baläms were in Baläm Ja.”
Kish glowered then relaxed and continued. “There are four sacbeobs in Xibalba that meet at the krus-be; the red of Hobnil, the yellow of Hozanek, the white of Can-Tzicnal, and the black of Zac-Cimi. The red comes from the east, the yellow from the south, the white from the north. The black comes from the west where lies the city of Xibalba. All four sacbeobs meet the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans somewhere along its course. Because the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans is the only means of leaving Xibalba, one síina’an guards each of the four points where one of those sacbeobs reaches the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans. If there is a problem at any of those junctions, all síina’ans converge there. We are on the sacbeob going north then northeast and wh
ere this sacbeob abuts the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans that is where our battle will be. We will meet all four. That is why we are divided into four sections. Do you understand, Nacon?”
“I do, Nabe Kaloonte’. Since there is an escape route, I would have thought more Xibalbans, especially the Warriors, would try to leave.”
“Only the Lords of Xibalba and the Chief Guard knows that the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans is the route out of Xibalba. I know it because I am the Chief Guard.” I saw him glance at Yochi. “I send my best Warriors to guard where the sacbeobs reach the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans. They follow my orders. They require no explanation. You all have been briefed only because you are with me and about to leave Xibalba.” He raised his voice at the end of the sentence and the Warriors all hit their chests. “We are fifty-six in number. We will battle the síina’ans then we will ride them out of Xibalba.”
“Ride them to madafok,” murmured Teul.
Kish ignored Teul and looked around at his Warriors. I did so too. No one showed any fear as we listened.
“We are divided into four sections. Each section will ride one síina’an. Once you have mounted, you do not need to direct the síina’an where to go. Once you are on its back, and have followed my commands, it will dive and when it rises from the Nim-ja’ Ti’ Síina’ans again, you will be on U Wach Ulew.
“Kaloonte’!” Kish looked at me. “My Warriors and I know nothing about the síina’ans. You talk about mounting them. How big are those creatures? How will we get onto and remain on the back of a síina’an?” You said it’s going to dive.” I thought Kish was going to reprimand me about my questioning again, but he simply answered.
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 58