CHAPTER ELEVEN
QAS NIM HA’ (Lake
Izabal)
K’iin 19 - The Uinal of Yaxk’in’
Friday, May 18, 1973
Kinich Ahau was just one hand above the horizon as I stood on the crag with Yochi, looking down on Qas Nim Ha’. “Do you think we can cross Qas Nim Ha’ today?”
Yochi stared at the horizon before answering. “First of all, we have the injured. The jungle is broken so that will delay us, but as we are going downhill it may not be too difficult. The plain on both sides of Qas Nim Ha’ is green with brown mud patches. There may be little water, but as I don’t see many trees they may have been blown down. Beneath the fallen trees and broken limbs, it will be very muddy. It will take us three to four k’abs to get to the plain and another k’ab to Qas Nim Ha’ if we have no major problems. If we find canoes, we can cross Qas Nim Ha’ before Kinich Ahau leaves U Wach Ulew. Crossing Qas Nim Ha’ should only take about five k’abs, if we can keep up a fast pace.” He raised his eyebrows. “The men are in good spirits, but it will take a few days and a lot of food before they have back all their strength. They did not eat anything much for three k’iins, except for a little berries and fruit, and the meat last night. And they will need to chakuj tutuchci.”
“With what we ate last night and the left overs this morning, that should be enough,” I responded. He nodded. I smiled. “The last time I brought up food for the Warriors, Eztli informed me that if I had to worry about food for my Warriors, then I had no Warriors. Prick! Anyway, are the Warriors ready?”
“Yes, Chiac.”
“Including the injured?”
“Only Ixtli and Matlal still have problems walking, due to the punctures received from the tusks. The medicines Taat and Choc found are working as there’s no infection. Cipactli’s chest injury was shallower than it appeared, but he has pain breathing. He cannot move quickly. They will be helped by other Warriors as we march. Parham, Eleuia, Nenete, and Iuitl are recovered enough that they will not slow us down much.”
“Good. How’s Taat doing?”
“Greatly improved.”
“Well, ko’one’ex?”
“Yes.”
Going down was as Yochi had said. There were difficulties climbing over broken limbs and fallen trees, but we moved relatively quickly along a ridge and were at the base in just over three k’abs. That’s where the problems began. Huge fallen trees were everywhere and the jungle floor was covered with a thick marshy mud and, many times, our feet sank to just below our knees. Dead, bloated, and rotting wuch’s, kitams, haalebs, k’oys,246 t’ix,247 masats248 and many other animals were among the debris, large green pumpu’249all over them along with their yellow or greyish maggots moving in the decaying flesh. I was immediately transported back to Expedition Bold and the state of my murdered men as I tried to lay them out with some dignity at the covert. Once again, they were with me, even if it were in a different world, and I choose to believe that they were totally unaware, as Bas had said, of what happened to them between dying and arriving in the Underworld. I pulled myself back, and redirected my thoughts to the night with Molly at the Ch’ajch’oj Chiyul.
Chan-koxols and flood flies were abundant, getting into our noses, ears, and mouths, and I cussed and cussed, wishing, really wishing, I had clothes to wear. We covered ourselves with mud, as had become the recent habit, and that helped keep off the flies from our skin, but we kept on eating mouthfuls of them. We had to be careful where we stepped as we saw kaans, including a few sachojs. There were also síina’ans and millipedes. Army ants were over everything, running across the broken branches. The red fire ants were more subtle, latching on to our bodies and stinging us over and over again. After a while, we just ignored them. It took us another two k’abs to get through the remainder of the lowland jungle and reach Qas Nim Ha’. We hurriedly put our weapons in a pile and threw ourselves into the lake, avoiding the many clumps of floating debris. The level of the lake appeared to be near normal, even though it was dark from the flood, heavy rains, and the muddy water still being brought down into it by the tributaries from the west.
We scrubbed ourselves, trying to stop the itching, cleaning the many scratches and cuts we had endured. The Warriors who had loincloths took them off and washed them as best they could, those wearing úúks did the same. After about fifteen minutes, I walked onto a bar that was just a few yards away from where we had stepped into Qas Nim Ha’. It was mostly free of debris and large enough for all of us. Once I left the water, the Warriors followed and gathered around me.
Yochi ordered Huehue and Choco to go west and Bas and Chino to go east along Qas Nim Ha’ to see if there were any villages still existing and if there were any canoes. He told them not to go in either direction for more than one k’ab. That meant that we had a period of two k’abs to wait before they returned, unless they found something earlier.
I spoke with Yochi. “I don’t think we should do nothing for two k’abs,” I said. “Get the Warriors to begin selecting suitable limbs to make rafts of some sort. From the look of things here, I doubt we’ll find any canoes, or villages. Even if we do find canoes, we will need paddles and poles too.”
“Qas Nim Ha’ is very deep. We won’t be able to pole the rafts or canoes across.”
“Then we will paddle them or hold onto them and swim.”
He looked towards the ha’. “The Warriors have not regained all their strength. I do not want to lose any to Qas Nim Ha’. That is not the death of a Warrior. We have already lost three to Qas Nim Wo-Ja’. And there is Teul. It would not be good to lose any more that way.”
I knew how deeply my Warriors felt about the death of a fellow Warrior if he did not die in battle, but we had to get across the ha’. If I ordered Yochi to carry out any command he would, but I did not want to have to do that. It could later prove an issue in our relationship. I needed him. “We can decide later how we will cross the ha’, Yochi. If we do not find canoes, we will have to build rafts. I just want to begin the process.” He nodded and left, going towards the Warriors and giving instructions. The Warriors immediately responded and began looking for broken limbs that would be suitable. With difficulties, the pile began to grow, very slowly.
It was long after two k’abs when I heard a shout. All the Warriors left what they were doing and hurried to the side of the ha’, gesticulating and shouting. I rushed over to see Huehue and Choco paddling a canoe, using make-shift paddles. Attached to it, by tie-ties, were four more canoes. They beached the first canoe, jumped out and bowed facetiously, indicating to the other canoes. The Warriors gave multiple war-whoops Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr! Uwa-Uwa-Roarrr!
I went up to Huehue and Choco. “Where did you find them?”
“There were remains of several small villages along the bank. No villagers. We did see a few bloated bodies among the fallen trees and a canoe here and there, some destroyed, caught in or just sitting upon the splintered trees and broken limbs. Once we got the first canoe to the water and found suitable branches for paddling, it became easy. We kept on going along the bank and soon came upon more.”
We heard another shout. Bas and Chino were returning and they had four canoes. With respect to the villages, the story was the same; flattened villages and floating or beached swollen bodies.
We beached the canoes, and Yochi sent the Warriors to the pile of limbs they had collected, telling them to find the ones best suited for paddling.
“Should we leave now?” I asked him.
He looked to the west. “Kinich Ahau is about three hands above the mountains,” he said. “We will have only two to three k’abs before it is dark.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I answered. “Qas Nim Ha’ is calm, the sky is clear, and tonight Ix Chel is at her brightest. It’s the nojinaq-ik’.”250
“But because it’s the nojinaq-ik’, T’uyul may not be bright enough for us to see it, to guide us to the north.”
“Then we will use anoth
er star, a brighter star. Shall we go, Yochi?”
He hesitated. “As you command, Kaloonte’. Ko’one’ex,” he shouted, and ran off towards the Warriors.
In short time, each man had a paddle of sorts. When we left Sib Juyub, we had six canoes for ourselves. Presently, we had nine canoes and there were forty-eight of us which would put five or six Warriors in each canoe.
We divided each section between two canoes, putting the section’s Nacon in charge of one and the Ukab Nacon, the other. Teul’s section, Yaotl now Nabe Nacon and Chimalli Ukab Nacon, was short four Warriors. Teul was missing and Zolin, Nochehuatl, and Momoztle dead, so we put the injured Matalal and Cipactli with Yaotl. Yochi, Eztli, and I had a canoe for ourselves, so we took Cihuaton, Itotia, and Ixtli. By the time we were finished with organizing, Kinich Ahau was two hands above the mountains to the west.
Within two k’abs of our leaving the southern bank of Qas Nim Ha’, the large beautiful nojinaq-ik’ was rising in the east, bathing Qas Nim Ha’ brightly with her yellow light. I remembered Eztli telling me that yellow meant joy and happiness. I hoped he was right. I looked to the north, but it was too bright to see T’uyul. It did not matter. As long as we kept Ix Chel to our right, we would be going north.
We moved along swiftly, our formation basically a fireteam wedge. My canoe was the tip of the formation, followed by Iztali and Huehue, Ichik and Bas, Ikan and Chicahua, Yaotl and Chimalli. As we paddled, all nine canoes were in unison, all strokes cutting the water together. It was a beautiful sound in the quiet night, so calming that I had the feeling to go sleep. Cihuaton and Itotia were doing their share of paddling and Ixtli also tried, but because of her injuries she had to rest often. I had not told her to stop for I knew that it was important to her that she participated in what needed to be done, that she did her part.
I paddled, dreamily, until I became aware that the unison was lost. One paddle seemed out of sync as there was an additional faint splash from the water. I listened, not being too concerned, assuming that one of the paddlers was becoming tired. The synchrony returned and I slid back into my former placid state. But the disharmony came back and, that time, more pronounced. I immediately became alert. The water was as calm as it was before, a light wind coming from the northeast. There were a lot of floating trees, but, because of the nojinaq-ik’, we had no trouble seeing them, monitoring them, and avoiding them. As they were only drifting, they made no sound. I looked at my paddlers to see if the additional sound originated from them. I concluded it didn’t.
The disharmony was unsettling as it just didn’t sound right or natural. I estimated we were about halfway across the ha’, lake, and I continued to listened, very alert, for any sudden change in the sound. The change came and it grew in intensity, becoming louder and louder.
“You hear that, Chiac,” warned Yochi.
“Ralxik!” came the shout from one of the canoes behind us.
I stood, carefully, looking to the east and west. Not far to our left was a large clump of floating trees coming towards us and Ralxik had wrapped itself about it. A large part of its body was standing up, posturing, and its eyes appeared enormous as it reflected and amplified the light from the nojinaq-ik’. Its tail was in the water, paddling the makeshift raft parallel to us. Then came the voice of Xwáay Ok’ol, singing the song I had loved so much, a song that then provoked the most horrifying of memories. As she continued to sing, my mind drifted and I remembered stories of sailors of old who were drawn to the voices of the Sirens at sea. It was the voices, the melody, the yellow light of the nojinaq-ik’ holding the brilliance of Ix Chel within itself, all those things reaching out upon the water; they were mesmerizing, enthralling, haunting, calling, always calling. The soul of the marimba filled my heart, the soft touch of the harp, the violin and the guitar and, as the captivating harmony came to me, Ralxik began swaying with the music. Xwáay Kumätz rose from the lake, beside the tree-raft, but kept her half-snake body in the water supporting her upright. She too danced with the rhythm of the song. Unlike the beauty that surrounded me, however, she did not maintain her beautiful face as she had done when we met her on the flooded Ja’-nima’. At times, she had a horse’s head, its red eyes wanting to penetrate me. At other times, there was a brilliant white skull in the moonlight, the hollow of its black eyes so dark, deep, and evil that they absorbed the beams coming from Ix Chel without losing any of their darkness. Yet, she enchanted me. Q’eq Ha’ Wíinik rose from the lake and climbed onto the tree-raft, the white of his palms and soles sending out beams of light as they reflected the nojinaq-ik’. But the beams were not normal. They were fragmented and dark orange in color. He jumped to Ralxik and hugged the large kaan, putting his lips against the scales of its jaw, swaying in dark caress with the music. All their eyes were focused on me and as Xwáay Ok’ol sang, pleasure built up in me and I wanted to join them.
“Chiac! Chiac!” I heard Yochi calling me from afar. I looked down at him angrily, for he was taking me from the erotic enchantment I was living. “Sit down and paddle,” he shouted. But I was not going to do that. I looked back to the source of my enchantment and placed one foot on the edge of the canoe, getting ready to jump into the ha’ and swim towards the creatures of the Kechelaj Komon that called out to me. I felt as if my head exploded in pain and I lost consciousness falling to the floor of the canoe.
When I awoke, it was night, not dark, however, because of the nojinaq-ik’. My head hurt like fokin crazy and as I tried to stand I became dizzy. I felt my head with my hand and there was a big and tender fokin gwaava251 on the right side.
“You’re awake,” grunted Yochi. He was seated not far from me. I looked around, frowning, not only in pain, but concerned. “Where are we?”
“On the north bank of Qas Nim Ha’. We are safe.”
“What the fok happened to me? I’m in pain, my head is swollen, and I don’t remember a fok about getting here.”
“You wouldn’t remember because you didn’t know what was happening.”
I stared at him. “Yochi!”
“Yes, Chiac.”
“Just tell me what happened. You’re not making sense.”
“I had to hit you over the head with my paddle. I wasn’t worried. You have the thick skull of a Warrior.”
“You hit me with a fokin paddle? I shook my head, immediately exploding shrapnel into my brain. “Why the fok did you do that?” I held my head with both hands. “And did it have to be so hard?” I looked up at him. “The Kechelaj Komon?”
“I’ll tell you one day while we drink iztāc-octli. Now that you have awakened and will live, I am going to sleep. I have guards set. You go back to sleep too.”
I decided not to push the issue any further and nodded. I regretted it, immediately, as pain shot down my neck. I knew Yochi and if he hit me over the head, there would have had to be a good reason. I just had to wait until we had a chance to drink iztāc-octli to find out. “Yochi?”
“Yes, Chiac?”
“So, we are on schedule?”
“Yes. We are camped in a destroyed village. There’s a trail going north. We will take that when Kinich Ahau returns.”
I was silent for a while. “And Teul?”
“Still no signs of Teul. Now, go to sleep. The journey continues to be difficult.”
I pulled myself into a ball, ignored my busting head, held onto the Bas’ Green Scapular, and promptly went back to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE TRAIL TO
ZACTUN (Sarstoon)
K’iin 19 - The Uinal of Yaxk’in’
Saturday, May 19, 1973
I woke to a colorful sunrise, Kinich just beginning to show himself in a spectrum of yellows. The sky above him was red-orange then purple and Qas Nim Ha’ a deep pink. I remembered Eztli telling me that yellow brings joy and happiness, but red-orange brings domination and aggression. He hadn’t talked about purple and pink, and I didn’t know what they brought. I really didn’t care, anyhow
.
The Warriors were already up and I walked to the bankside joining Yochi in taking a piss, looking out across the ha’. When I was finished, I felt my head. The gwaava was still there, still swollen and painful. I glanced at Yochi. He was looking at me, his face expressionless.
“Nothing happened through the night and we have had a good rest. There is no food. Everything here is dead. We leave now.”
I looked up and down the bank. “And the canoes?’
“We have no more use for them. We leave them.”
“And Ixtli, Cipactli, and Mattel?”
“They will be helped.”
I turned around. All the Warriors were standing in a group awaiting orders.
“May I, Kaloonte’?” asked Yochi. I nodded. “We take the trail to the north, over the eastern end of the mountain chain and then through the lowlands until we reach the Zactun. From there we go on to Pusilhá. We have a trail to follow. I am not certain of the condition because of the wrath U K’ux Kaj released on this land, but I want to camp at the Zactun before Kinich Ahau leaves U Wach Ulew.” He looked at me and nodded.
“Ko’one’ex,” I shouted.
We followed the trail leading from the destroyed village. U K’ux Kaj’s wrath was very evident and sometimes the trail was lost under the fallen trees, mud covered jungle floor, and flattened shrubs. The mountains were not very high, but there were many creeks to cross, no longer flooded, but still muddy and slippery. The northern sides of the mountains were no better as the jungle there had also suffered severe damage. As we moved away from the mountains, going north, the devastation caused by the wind was becoming less, but destruction from rain and flooding was still widespread.
Sisimito III--Topoxte Page 19