The two young men gazed in silence at the model, each lost in his thoughts. Pakal spoke first.
“You are quite certain that the force dynamics will hold up in a full-scale building?”
Yax Chan spread his palms and gestured to signal his personal view.
“Many times have I re-checked my drawings. There I can find no errors, certainly by mathematical and geometric calculations this trapezoidal linear truss should support many forms of buildings. We will know beyond doubt when one is built.”
“Then let us proceed with building. It is time for Lakam Ha to begin its restoration. Your design must be presented to my parents, who may want to review a construction program with the Council. Some still resist putting our resources into building when we have not yet restored our orchards and fields to full production.”
Yax Chan bowed his head, but not before Pakal caught an expression of disdain. The young ruler smiled and placed a hand on the architect’s shoulder.
“Many lack your imagination and do not share my vision for a grander city,” he said. “They are caught in the energy of limitation and scarcity. It is difficult for them to see how expansion through creating beautiful new structures will change the attitudes of our people and others in the polity; will draw resources and manpower to us that will launch the city into a new era.”
Yax Chan met Pakal’s eyes and shared his smile. There was another idea he had yet to mention, but hesitated because it was not fully developed. Pakal sensed this.
“Have you other ideas about building?” he asked.
“This is now just a thought, an image in my mind,” said Yax Chan. “I have not yet made drawings or models, but I think it is something you would appreciate, especially in terms of creating beautiful structures.”
“Then you must tell me, I am interested.”
“It is a new way to construct roofcombs. With longer and wider chambers on top of pyramids, there will be longer and stronger rooflines to support tall superstructures. What if we could build lighter and more open roofcombs that would be elegant and graceful? It would be possible using hollow spaces between the opposing faces and making many openings in the faces themselves. This open matrix would allow light and wind to penetrate through the roofcomb. It would also minimize lateral and vertical loading and make roofcombs less susceptible to wind and seismic forces. We could have larger roofcombs that are lighter and more attractive.”
Pakal reflected on these ideas and immediately saw the advantages.
“Yes, this would be very good. It will give additional height to pyramid-temples so they truly soar to the skies, and allow artistically crafted carvings to dance among sunrays. Mirrors could be used to amplify light effects. With wind freely blowing through the open matrix, we could attach wind chimes to project lovely melodies across the plazas. It is as you suggest, Yax Chan, a way to enhance the magnificence of our structures. Bring me drawings as soon as you can.”
Yax Chan crossed both arms on his chest and bowed deeply. He was going to enjoy working as chief architect for the new ruler.
2
Sak K’uk was glad for the outing with her son. Although they were together more often since his accession, their interaction was mostly formal as they conducted the activities of the royal court and the Popol Nah-Council House. Sak K’uk and Kan Mo’ Hix acted as co-regents with Pakal, advising him and making joint decisions as he honed his skills and gained experience administering the city of Lakam Ha. In the ten tuns that passed since Lakam Ha’s axing by Kan, the political structure had been largely restored as the city’s ahauob coalesced behind Pakal’s rulership. Nobles brought regular tribute to support the activities of the royal court, courtiers attended the ruler and his family in daily gatherings in the throne room, and the Popol Nah met regularly to address issues that affected their city’s operations.
Most of the agricultural lands and orchards had regained their former productivity. Surplus food increased and this spurred trading with other polity cities. Frequent visits by traders plying their long dugout canoes down the river network brought many valued items from distant mountains and coastal regions. Several B’aakal cities that had fallen away from bringing tribute mended their ways, seeing the progressive recovery of their May Ku city. Usihwitz and Yokib, however, remained recalcitrant and did not send emissaries with tribute. Traders reported that these cities were ever more tightly drawn into the net of Kan.
Such concerns were far from Sak K’uk’s mind as she met Pakal at the main plaza to begin their outing. He had requested her company for a trip across three rivers and multiple hills toward the eastern escarpment, where a meadow spanned one of the largest flat plateaus in their mountainous homeland. Few structures existed in this out-lying area, but she remembered the small building sitting in the middle of the meadow near the Otolum River, used occasionally by hunters and warriors. Pakal had expressed interest in seeing this building, though she could not imagine how he remembered it from the many stories she told of her childhood. On the way there, they planned to stop at the burial pyramid of her mother, Yohl Ik’nal where they would make offerings of copal, maize and flowers.
Sak K’uk had a small retinue of attendants carrying baskets with noonday food and drink, and a canopy on four poles in case of rain. During this time of year, afternoon showers were frequent although the days began clear and sunny. Pakal brought only one attendant to carry his mat, writing materials and cloak. After embracing, Sak K’uk and Pakal linked arms and led the procession along the sakbe that traveled east to the edge of the built area of Lakam Ha, terminating at the Lakin Temple of the East. After that, they would follow footpaths.
In the time since she conducted the truncated K’altun rituals at the turning of the 9th Baktun, Sak K’uk felt a diminished presence of the Primordial Mother Goddess Muwaan Mat. For this she was grateful; the Goddess was an all-consuming energy that took over body, mind and spirit. She had not felt herself during the three tuns during which Muwaan Mat had ruled using her human form as Middleworld agent. Gradually that powerful presence had diminished after Pakal was seated as ruler and tied on the white headband. Sak K’uk felt lighter and more interested in her immediate life, especially her family.
She listened avidly while Pakal described his work with Yax Chan, chief architect to the ruler. Smiling to herself, she felt a surge of pride that she had identified the young man as one having special talents, and included him in their close circle of ahauob. Although she did not fully comprehend the engineering details of how this new trapezoidal arch functioned, she clearly grasped its conceptual advantages. Her heart was thrilled at the image of soaring pyramid-temples with light, airy roofcombs that made magic with sound and light.
“These ideas are marvelous!” she exclaimed. “What a creative genius is that Yax Chan. Such structures will be the envy of the entire polity.”
“This is but the truth,” Pakal agreed. “If only we could begin a concerted building effort soon. It seems to me that Lakam Ha is reaching an even state and ahauob are increasing their reserves and wealth.”
“Yes, these things are happening but the sense of uncertainty persists. It takes time to recover from such a devastating blow. And it takes many tuns to replace the manpower lost from our men lost in battle or taken as captives. We have not yet re-established a large enough warrior contingent.”
“Hmmm. It is unfortunate that cities must devote human resources to battle preparedness,” Pakal reflected.
“Unfortunate but the way of our emerging world,” observed Sak K’uk dryly. “I doubt the Maya lands will ever again see the widespread peace and cooperation that existed during the height of the May Ku system.”
“A divinely given way for humans to live in harmony, in synchrony with the cycles of nature and the cosmos, now dishonored by such cities as Kan and Usihwitz.”
Pakal appeared deep in thought as they walked along the raised white roadbed, covered with plaster and smooth underfoot. Such sakbeob, white roads, stretche
d long distances between some Maya cities located in the flat lowlands to the north. In the mountainous terrain of their region, intersected by numerous rivers, it was impractical to build inter-city sakbeob. River travel was more efficient.
“It will be necessary for me to take action against those who defiled our sacred shrine and plundered our city.” Pakal’s voice sounded solemn. “Not in the spirit of revenge, but to restore balance and bring justice. Those perpetrating such atrocities must be made to understand that they cannot escape the consequences. As you well know, Mother, I am not a hot-blooded warrior who lusts for blood. Violence does not please my nature, for I would have all people live in cooperation and harmony. But the actions of Kan and its allies cannot remain unanswered, and raids upon their cities must be undertaken. The time is not right, I know. This will be something for future times, when our warrior power is well-developed.”
Sak K’uk watched her son with a mixture of admiration and compassion. She was not aware that such thoughts were playing through his mind. Of his gentle nature she was fully appreciative, and she knew that military action was not something he desired. However, he understood the ways of humans far more than such a young man might. He would do what was required as Lakam Ha’s ruler, setting his own preferences aside.
“These things can wait, my dear,” she said gently. “Now we can focus on kinder activities, such as re-building our city. Perhaps you and Yax Chan could start with the Temple of Kan Bahlam. Every time I see its crumbled stones, my heart is deeply sad. Your great-grandfather’s burial temple is a symbol, re-constructing it would send a message to Kan and Usihwitz. What think you of this? Might we convince the Council that we have adequate resources?”
“It is possible, but I am eager to proceed even without their full accord,” Pakal replied. “Have we the family wealth to achieve this re-building effort, including the materials and manpower?”
“Of this I am uncertain. When we return from today’s outing, I will consult with your father and the scribes to assay our holdings.”
Pakal nodded, and both turned their attention to the surrounding landscape, enjoying the tree-covered hills replete with wildlife. Birds chirped and twittered, monkeys chattered and leaves rustled in the soft breeze. They crossed the second river, spanned by a short stone bridge and passed in front of the tall Nohol Temple of the South. It was an older structure and sustained dark mold on the walls of stepped tiers and staircase. Pakal noted the solid carved roofcomb, imagining how much lighter and more attractive Yax Chan’s open matrix design might appear.
The sun was directly overhead as the group reached the Lakin Temple of the East, where the sakbe ended. From there a path curved up the steep hillside, causing the attendants to breathe heavily under their burdens. Pakal offered his mother a hand for the climb and she clasped it tightly, grateful for the assistance. Once at the summit, a view of the large meadow spread below, transected by the Otolum River. Across the river and somewhat south was the crest of Yohl Ik’nal’s temple situated atop a low hill that nestled among others of greater height. Breezes swept up the hillside and ruffled their clothing while cooling their sweaty skin.
Sak K’uk recalled the time she stood on this hill with her parents. Closing her eyes, the image she saw then returned, the wavering shape of a glorious city spread across the meadow. Turning to Pakal and blinking to clear her vision, she noticed a distant view in his eyes.
“When I was young I came to this hill with my family,” she murmured. “Only that small stone building, as you see in the distance, was in the meadow. But an image appeared to me of a great city situated there. Somehow I knew that I would live in that city.”
Pakal nodded and replied softly, “That image also comes to me. This meadow is calling for our people to build here. That is one reason why I wanted to visit.”
Mother and son entwined fingers as they stood side by side, sharing a common vision for their city’s future. Sak K’uk felt close to Pakal, closer than she had since he was yet a boy under her care. Her heart swelled with overwhelming tenderness as tears glistened in her eyes. She vowed to hold onto this closeness, no matter what happened.
The shuffling feet of attendants brought them back to the present, and the group descended the hillside to the small valley beside the river that bordered Yohl Ik’nal’s temple. Here mats were spread and the canopy set up for shade, as the sun was hot. Sak K’uk and Pakal waded across the shallow river to make their offerings before having the noonday meal. The pyramid was of modest height and the temple simple, having a single doorway to the interior chamber and one nicely carved panel featuring the buried ruler. Pakal noted the square shape of the temple roof and solid roofcomb constructed in the old manner. Inside he joined his mother in chanting ancestor prayers, placing the incense, maize and flowers on the small stone altar under the panel.
Over lunch Pakal asked Sak K’uk to repeat some stories about his grandmother, Yohl Ik’nal. Munching maize cakes, dried deer meat and tart dried plums, she talked of the Flower War when Yohl Ik’nal was betrothed to Hun Pakal and the injury happened to Ek Chuuah that set in motion the chain of revenge. From her own childhood, she described grand court scenes when tribute was received from many cities, festivals of vast abundance, and her mother’s most renowned visions, including the prophecy that neutralized the first Usihwitz raid. Pakal never tired of hearing about his remarkable grandmother, the first woman to rule in her own right.
Leaving the attendants with their accoutrements in the small valley, Sak K’uk and Pakal followed the river’s course down a gentle slope until the large meadow spread before them. Tall grasses waved in the wind, now brisker as afternoon clouds with dark bottoms billowed overhead. Sak K’uk wondered if she would regret leaving the attendants and canopy behind, but they could not keep up Pakal’s rapid pace. She was getting a bit winded herself. He waved at her to rest as he forged ahead, seeming drawn to a certain region near the old building.
The structure sat next to the river on the north bank. Pakal peered across toward the south bank, interested in something. The river was wider but Pakal plunged in, the water reaching his thighs before he made the opposite bank. He wandered around the area, then re-crossed the river and disappeared into the structure. Sak K’uk felt a twinge of worry because the walls had partially fallen and the roof had caved into a pile of rubble. She stood tall and craned to get a better view, and then proceeded towards the building. When she arrived at its standing wall, she heard Pakal’s voice chanting inside and hesitated. Listening carefully, she recognized a prayer to the Triad Deities and decided to remain outside.
The wind swirled and moaned through the ruins, making eerie noises as though the gods were replying to Pakal. He kept chanting, seeming in response to the wind sounds. The dialogue became louder and stronger, rising to gusty shrieks and dropping to muttering groans. The hairs rose on Sak K’uk’s neck and arms as a chill ran up her spine. She recognized the presence of otherworldly entities and felt a strong vortex of energy swirling around the structure, enveloping her and Pakal. Thunder sounded in the distance, its booming voice rumbling over the mountains.
Quickly the clouds darkened and bumped together, sending flashes of lightning over the meadow. Loud crashes of thunder followed, deafening her ears. She could not stand it anymore and had to make certain that Pakal was safe. Passing around the wall and stepping over fallen stones, she wove her way to the interior just as the storm clouds opened their bellies and poured out heavy rain.
Pakal was seated cross-legged among the rubble; his cheeks wet but not from rain, for an overhang of ceiling protected him. His face was lifted upward with eyes pressed closed and a rapturous expression. Sak K’uk stood, transfixed by the sight. Rain streamed over her head as wind whipped wet strands of loose hair across her face, but she would not move or speak. She lost track of how long she stood there, guarding her son in his trance, holding the space of sacred energy.
The rain had diminished to a drizzle and the clouds were
scurrying toward the western horizon before Pakal opened his eyes. He appeared disoriented and gave his mother a confused look. She smiled and extended her arms toward him, moving forward to help him rise. Grasping his hands, she drew him up into her arms and held him closely. He returned her strong embrace, his chin resting on her crown. He was trembling and she held him until his body was still.
They carefully picked their way out of the crumbled building and walked back along the river. Sak K’uk’s wet clothes dripped but the air was warm and muggy. She pushed loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. Neither spoke until they reached the bend and saw the attendants in the valley. Pakal turned back to face the meadow and pointed toward the old building.
“The vortex around that building is very powerful,” he said slowly. “It has the potential to become a portal. I could feel the presence of the Triad Deities more strongly than I have since our old portal was destroyed. I could hear them calling me through the voice of the wind. That place will be the location of our new Sak Nuk Nah. There I will construct a new portal to reach the Upperworld, to communicate with the gods and ancestors, to restore our ability to give their proper bundles. Thus will it be, the portal to birth the Jeweled Tree, the ikatz-charge of the earth and sky, so we may adorn our patron gods and the Gods of the First Sky.”
3
The large patio of the royal residential area was full of people talking, feasting and drinking. Every ahauob of Lakam Ha who could stand and walk crammed into the patio and terraces of the surrounding chambers. They were present to partake in the festival celebrating the adulthood transformation ceremonies of their K’uhul B’aakal Ahau, K’inich Janaab Pakal. The popular young ruler had reached eighteen tuns (17.75 solar years) and all wanted to show their respect, their love, their support. Many ahauob contributed food, fermented drinks, and servants for the feast. Dressed in fine clothing with jeweled wrists and ankles, large earspools, neck collars and pendants, the nobles competed for elegance and richness. Their attire was not heavy and unwieldy as were ceremonial costumes, but made for lightness and comfort as well as show.
The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) Page 21