The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque)

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The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) Page 28

by Leonide Martin


  He glanced at the ruler’s mother entreatingly, as if beseeching her to forgive him in advance. Only a stern glare was returned to the now copiously sweating messenger.

  “Of the face of Lady Lalak, it must be said . . . much do I regret to say it, her face is . . . homely.”

  “She is unattractive?” Kan Mo Hix sounded more curious than displeased.

  “You must give more details,” Sak K’uk insisted. “Describe her face carefully. You have great powers of observation, you have shown these before.”

  “As you command, Holy Lady. I wish not to disparage the worthy daughter of our neighbor city and their ruling family. I bring only what my eyes have seen, and it is your prerogative to make your assessment. Now come the details. Her face is wide and square, with an indistinct chin line. While large noses are common among our people, hers is uncommonly great. The tip is almost bulbous and the nostrils flare out widely. This feature dominates her face. By comparison, her eyes are small and recessed under heavy brows. They do have a nice almond shape and shine with intelligent light. Her lips are thick and down curving, except when she smiles. Her smile is captivating and her teeth straight and white. The ears are also prominent, standing out from her head with long lobes; good for wearing heavy earspools.”

  He paused again, pondering whether to impart the next bit of telling information about the girl’s appearance. Quickly he gauged it was folly to omit it, for the royal family would see this defect the moment they set eyes on her.

  “There is yet one additional observation I made of her features,” he continued slowly. “As a young child she contracted an illness that caused a widespread rash over her face and body. Infection set in and she almost died. The healing skills of B’aak priestesses saved her life, but scars were left upon her face from infected bumps. These are most visible upon her cheeks, appearing as dark spots.

  “This completes my description.” He paused and glanced up expectantly. Did he see a smile curling the chiseled lips of the ruler’s mother?

  “An excellent description!” she exclaimed. “It is possible to picture the girl clearly. You have done well, Budz Ek, and will be richly rewarded for your work.”

  Kan Mo Hix looked appraisingly at his wife. He knew more about her motives than would please her, but his concern was not the girl’s appearance. Her bloodlines back to the dynastic founders, the stability of the ruling family and the political situation of the city were his main interests.

  “It is so, Worthy Messenger,” he said. “Your report conveys much information about the daughter of Ik’ Muuy Muwaan, and we are appreciative. Tell me more about the difficult times and leadership deficits that recently beset B’aak.”

  Budz Ek launched with considerable relief into details of crop failures and poor decision-making by the ruler and his administrators. This was safer ground and the men in the chamber listened with avid attention.

  B’aak was a small city to the northwest on hilly country not far from Lakam Ha. It did not possess the lofty vista across wide, fertile plains that his home city enjoyed. Lakam Ha, Place of Big Water, sat upon a narrow ridge one-third of the way up a high mountain range, K’uk Lakam Witz. Numerous small rivers coursed through the ridge, tumbling down the steep escarpment in cascades to join the Michol River. The plains below stretched north to the Nab’nah, the Great Northern Sea, transected by the K’umaxha River that served as the major transportation artery for the region. Named for the Sacred Monkeys that lived along its banks, when the K’umaxha River overflowed it deposited rich silt in the fields in which corn, beans, peppers and squash were grown.

  Lakam Ha was indeed blessed by its patron deities, the Triad Gods. This favored city abounded in water, flowering and fruiting trees, lush jungle foliage with numerous animals and birds, and cooling breezes from the soaring mountains to the south. It enjoyed a nonpareil view from its high ridge, and the steep cliffs plunging down to the plains below provided natural defense. The Michol River at the cliff’s base offered easy transportation, and the plains rolling gently into the hazy distance supported abundant crops to feed the population.

  B’aak had long been in the B’aakal Polity and was an ally of Lakam Ha. The ruling dynasty of Lakam Ha provided oversight for the cities within its polity, acting as May Ku or chief ceremonial center and dispensing privileges to rulers and nobles of these cities. This system of cooperation, in which leadership rotated among cities through choices made by a council of ahauob and priests, followed regular cycles of 20 tuns and 260 tuns. The May system was ordained by the gods, and kept humans living in peace and harmony. However, recent developments were disrupting this hallowed system, most notably the aggressive actions by Kan rulers in the distant Ka’an Polity. Lakam Ha was still struggling to recover from Kan’s devastating attack only 12 years before.

  It was important for Lakam Ha to cultivate alliances with its polity cities. Already two cities had switched allegiance to Kan, and had joined in the attack. This was one motive the royal family had for considering marriage ties with B’aak. As Kan Mo Hix listened to the messenger describing B’aak’s troubles, he became even more convinced that the ruling family’s daughter was the right choice. This union would guarantee the loyalty of B’aak.

  There were other important considerations in selecting a wife for Pakal. However, these were not part of the messenger’s report.

  “Budz Ek, greatly do we give thanks for your thorough work,” Kan Mo Hix said. “Your report is insightful and provides much information. These things are important and we must consider them carefully.”

  “Thanks for your work is given also by me,” Sak K’uk added. “Our Royal Steward, Muk Kab, will provide your reward to express our deep appreciation. One thing I must stress to you: Do not speak to anyone about this mission. As you see, we treat here of things having utmost significance for our city. With this confidence, I charge you.”

  For moments the eyes of Sak K’uk, recent ruler of Lakam Ha, mother of Pakal the K’uhul B’aakal Ahau, locked with those of the messenger. What he saw in these pools of fathomless blackness made him quiver. She could be ruthless in the service of her son and her dynasty. Any misstep of his, any leaking of secrets, would be fatal.

  “It is as you command, Holy Lady,” he said, dropping his gaze and bowing.

  With hand signs, she dismissed him and ordered the steward to give his recompense. After these two men left, further discussion ensued.

  “Pasah Chan, made you study of the bloodlines of the B’aak ruling family?” Kan Mo Hix addressed the High Priest of Lakam Ha, whose extensive library of codices contained histories of many B’aakal cities and dynasties. A man in his prime, the High Priest was slender with sinewy limbs, a hawk-like face and penetrating half-lidded eyes. From a minor noble family, he had risen to a position of prominence through both brilliant scholarship and shrewd competition.

  “So have I done. Our records of the B’aak dynasty are complete.” Pasah Chan always enjoyed being in the spotlight. He relished his authority among the highest echelons of Lakam Ha society, given his rather humble origins. For a personal reason, he felt sympathy for the “homely” girl under consideration as the ruler’s wife. He also had a defect; his skull was not shaped in the fashion of the elite. His parents had failed to apply headboards properly during infancy, a technique used by aspiring nobles to mimic the genetically elongated skulls of ruling families. Although he now wore headbands to push his hair up from the forehead to resemble this peaking crown, his efforts could not conceal the defect.

  “The ruling family of B’aak can justly claim that they are ‘of Toktan’ for their ancestors trace backward in an unbroken lineage to K’uk Bahlam, founder of the primordial city of Toktan. These ancestors lived in Lakam Ha for four generations, then left to build their own city a short distance away. They have consistently inhabited B’aak for six generations. According to their traditions, the rulers can rightly call themselves ‘K’uhul B’aakal Ahau’ because their bloodlines are as pure as ou
r Bahlam family. And, as you well know, their Emblem Glyph bears close resemblance to ours with its use of b’ak-bone and k’uhul-holy symbols.”

  “Much am I annoyed by this appropriation of our Emblem Glyph,” Sak K’uk said, frowning. “Using our Holy B’aakal Lord title is preposterous. Their status in the polity is far less than that of Lakam Ha.”

  “But their lineage is pristine,” observed Kan Mo Hix. This satisfied his highest priority in selecting his son’s wife.

  “This have I verified,” said Pasah Chan.

  “Here is another advantage of this match,” Sak K’uk added. “The girl is not of our city.”

  Pasah Chan shot a quizzical glance toward the ruler’s mother, and then recalled their conversation at the celebration of Pakal’s Transformation to Adulthood ritual a year earlier. The scene played vividly in his memory. He re-witnessed Sak K’uk’s shock upon watching her son dancing sensuously with Yonil, a lissome young woman of minor noble lineage. Her strong words about preventing this relationship from progressing were clear as on that night; she vowed to find a more suitable match from a neighboring city. Lalak filled those criteria and another one that would remain unspoken. The High Priest surmised that Sak K’uk did not want a beautiful woman as her son’s wife.

  Kan Mo Hix had arrived at the same conclusion much earlier. He was fully aware of the special relationship between mother and son, one that Sak K’uk treasured and would strive to maintain. She did not want a beautiful woman replacing her as the one closest to Pakal’s heart.

  More discussion ensued about the benefits this alliance would bring. The warrior chief K’akmo commented about strengthening defenses to the west, and the royal cousins speculated about sending expert farmers to help B’aak improve its crops so there could be more tribute and trade opportunities. The group seemed in concordance about this choice for Pakal’s wife.

  As the session ended and the others departed, Pasah Chan hung back. Sak K’uk alone remained in the chamber, even her husband had left to plan lavish marriage gifts and discuss timing with calendar priests. An event as extraordinary as the marriage of the K’uhul B’aakal Ahau must take place on a very auspicious day, one that promised longevity and fecundity to the royal pair, and abundance and prosperity to the people. Each day of the Mayan calendar held unique qualities based upon positions of stars, sun and moon, and sacred numerology. It took years of study to develop expertise in interpreting calendar auguries, and well-trained calendar priests were required.

  Noticing Pasah Chan’s continued presence, Sak K’uk walked over so they could speak in low voices. She sensed he desired a private conversation.

  “Have you more to say of this matter?”

  “A small concern, Holy Lady.”

  “Then speak, I am listening.”

  “You son Pakal is of age, he has undergone adulthood rituals, and he has a strong character as befits a ruler. Think you not that he should be included in selecting his wife?” Pasah Chan was among the few nobles in Lakam Ha who could question the ruling family directly. His status as High Priest put him among the upper elite.

  Sak K’uk looked haughtily at the priest.

  “Ruler he may be, but he is still my son. Tradition dictates that parents should select their children’s spouses. Pakal is well steeped in the protocols of ahauob and ruling dynasties. You, Pasah Chan, also are well aware of this.”

  “That is so. But has not Pakal shown interest in the young woman of our city, Yonil? Perhaps he desires at least consideration of this possible match.”

  “Yonil!” Sak Kuk’s eyebrows compressed and her eyes glowered. “That young woman is not a proper candidate. You know her family bloodlines. They are marginal at best; she is deficient in lineage. No, it is impossible to even discuss this with him.”

  “With her deficient lineage I have no argument,” the High Priest replied. “It is only to be sensitive to Pakal’s feelings that I suggest such a discussion.”

  Sak K’uk shook her head. Her jaw was set strongly.

  “Men cannot make good decisions about their lifelong mate when driven by the passions of youth. If Pakal is continuing to see this woman, I will immediately put this to an end.” Sak K’uk paused as a plan formulated in her mind. “Let us quickly arrange a marriage for Yonil to a noble of a distant city, perhaps Nab’nahotot on the shore of Nab’nah, the Great North Sea. Yes, this we must do, to remove any future temptation. Pasah Chan, see to it.”

  The High Priest clasped his shoulder and bowed. He felt an unexpected twinge of sadness for the lovely young woman Yonil and for Pakal, who clearly was attracted to her. However, those who served their people as intermediaries to the gods, who invoked blessings through rituals to guarantee their city’s well being, who fulfilled the divine covenant to speak the god’s names and keep their days properly, could not make purely personal choices. Pakal’s destiny would shape his life.

  2

  Pakal sat cross-legged on the ruler’s double-headed jaguar throne, his expression alert and his long body relaxed. Intelligence shown in tilted almond eyes set above high cheekbones in a slender face. A prominent straight-bridged nose swept in a clean line to an elongated skull, on which a headdress of bright feathers and woven bands perched. Sculpted lips curved sensuously above a strong chin line, framed by large jade earspools. On his well-muscled chest hung a K’in Ahau pectoral and his wrists sported copper cuffs with dangling discs. He wore the mat-design skirt that signified he was a person of the mat, one who sat upon woven mats to govern and deliberate. Strong and well-shaped legs were left bare and he wore no sandals while sitting.

  The overall impression created by his appearance was one of self-assurance without arrogance, incisiveness tempered by kindness. The Sun-Faced Lord of the Shield, as his name K’inich Janaab Pakal meant, was well liked by both nobles and commoners. His mettle as a ruler had not yet been tested, for times were returning to stability at Lakam Ha after the destruction of the Kan attack. The simmering issue remained, however, over the loss of the sacred Sak Nuk Nah-White Skin House that served as a portal to the Upperworld. This portal formed by the Wakah Chan Te-Jeweled Tree provided the pathway for communication with the Triad Deities, and had been used for generations by B’aakal rulers. In the Kan attack, the shrine had been spiritually defiled and physically demolished, and Pakal’s mother Sak K’uk had performed a ritual termination ceremony to close the structure permanently and remove lingering evil forces.

  During the three years of her rulership, Sak K’uk drew upon the Upperworld powers of the Primordial Mother Goddess, Muwaan Mat mother of the Triad Deities, to perform the required rituals. Once Pakal acceded at age 12, his mother continued to provide leadership until he reached adulthood. During this time, no major calendar periods came to completion, so the truncated rituals she was able to carry out were sufficient. When the next Katun ending arrived, however, the ruler would be expected to perform extensive ceremonies that reaffirmed his connection with the Deities, and satisfied their requirements for tribute and acknowledgement. Upon this rested the sacred contract between the Triad Deities and people of B’aakal.

  Without the portal in the Sak Nuk Nah, it was impossible to imagine how these ceremonies could be properly done. It was an issue that weighed heavily upon Pakal’s mind and heart. He had pledged himself to restore the portal to the gods, but was uncertain how to accomplish it. Thankfully, he had several years to figure this out. The Katun ending was eleven tuns (10.8 solar years) in the future. Pakal was considering a smaller ritual when the tuns reached 13, a sacred number of spirituality and wholeness to his people. This was over three solar years away; it would be his first significant calendar ritual as ruler.

  Pakal’s duties today were more mundane. He was adjudicating a quarrel in a noble family over inheritance of a small housing complex in the city. T’zul was a middle-aged women now living in the main house; she was the recent widow of the family head and had only one living child, a married daughter. By Maya custom, the son-in-law lived
for one year with his wife’s family, offering his services to the household. After that, he returned with his wife to his own family compound, where they continued to live. In T’zul’s situation, the son-in-law had remained in her household, as the family head was ailing and there were no sons to help out. T’zul wanted this arrangement to continue; her in-laws had many other sons and could surely spare one.

  The challenge to this arrangement came from Ah Nik, brother of the family head. He argued that the housing complex by right should revert to him, as the second oldest male in the family that built the structures. He was living in a nearby house but considered it too small for his growing family of three sons, all married with children and more on the way. Ah Nik was arguing his position.

  “It is only reasonable that my family should move into the complex. It is quite larger than our present house, and has two other buildings that my sons and their families could occupy. T’zul has fewer members in her family, and no grandchildren yet, though greatly do I wish her that joyous happening. Do you not confirm the rightness of this, Holy Lord?”

  “It was the wish of my esteemed husband, your older brother, that I remain in the house.” T’zul broke in, not waiting for Pakal to respond. Her cheeks were flushed and she stared venomously at her brother-in-law. “We have spent many years in this house. It holds our dearest family memories, and in the floor rests the bones of my poor husband, dead before his time. It is heartless to force us to leave. Ever have you been selfish, Ah Nik!”

  “I am thinking only of what is best for my family!” he retorted testily. “You are the selfish one, clutching onto the complex that is too large for your needs. Think of your nephews and their children. Open your heart to their needs.”

  “Every day I pay homage to my husband’s spirit at the shrine in my house. Why would you tear me away from what little solace this gives? It is only right that I remain close to my ancestor’s bones, to receive their guidance and comfort.”

 

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