Sisimito III--Topoxte

by Henry W. Anderson

  We continued south, paralleling the sacbeob that connected the northwest and southwest sacbeobs, about half-mile into the jungle. We meet our first hostiles in an area I reckoned to be west of the ballcourt. I reflected briefly on how much had happened since Choj, Bo, and I had played pitz for our lives against the Köj524 team, Tlacelel,525 Uetzcayotl,526 and Tepiltzin.527 Choj, Bo, and I had won and it was expected that the losing team would be sacrificed. I had stared into the black eyes of Tepiltzin as he stood just in front of me at the end of the ballgame. I saw no fear of what was to come. His eyes showed no emotions, no pain. It was I who felt the emotions. It was I who felt the pain.

  The two hostiles stood quietly together, each holding a long bate’ as they looked towards Ox Witz Ha. I was only able to make them out because of the dappled shadows they made as they moved slightly. I sang the soft huff of the ajwoyotz’ and waited. The two picquets were oblivious, as my almost silent call had fit in well with the night sounds of the jungle. I heard the answering soft huff and soon Yaotl, who was closest to me, was by my side. I used my hands to indicate where the hostiles were and moved my knife across my throat, signaling we would take them out.

  We moved ahead together and approached the Warriors, our knives ready, stopping when we were just behind them. We took them out. With one hand over my Warrior’s mouth, the other hand moved the knife across his throat while I embraced him strongly with my body and elbows, my head resting on his shoulder. I felt the warmth of blood pulse over my hands and chest, and down my forearm. I felt the warm blood spray into my face and I tasted it. I breathed it in. I heard the final soft gurgling of his blood, the soft final gasping of his breath; I felt his young life’s final hesitation as his heart slowed. I was one with his shuddering body as it failed, becoming limp. Other than the faint sound of gushing blood and the sound of his anxious feet as he tried to get out of my embrace, the small field of operation was empty of the sounds of the jungle at night. Slowly, Yaotl and I let the young Warriors down to the ground, then carefully, with as much honor as possible, we severed their heads. We lay the headless Warriors and placed their bate’s beside them, then we were off again, moving deeper south, closer to Izel’s camp. It would be up to Izel to make the Warriors whole when he prepared them for their journey to Xibalba. When we returned to our base camp, we had taken out six of Izel’s Warriors. While waiting on the others to return, I had Clarke and Parham cut a dozen spikes upon which we would display the Warriors’ heads for Izel. I watched Clarke and Parham as they drove a stake through the neck of each of the six heads that were there. Other than a sudden tiredness, I felt nothing.

  I sat leaning against a tree. I didn’t know how I felt about the dead Warriors and displaying their heads. It was something which I would never have even contemplated in my other world. Yet, here I was in a world that I had been forced into, a world with totally different values when it came to the Warrior and the life of the Warrior. They fought. They died. They went to the place for Warriors in the Great City of Xibalba. I reminisced once again, troubled.

  As I had stood at the foot of the Caana in Ox Witz Ha, after battling against K’uxaj’s Warriors, Molly had told me, You have become one of them. I had answered, I have always been one of them. It seemed I had; yet, I firmly believed that what I was doing would save the lives of many Warriors, but was it really because I was always one of them that I felt nothing as I slid my knife across the throat of the young and virile Warrior? Was that why I was not abhorred by the feel of warm blood flowing over me and the trembling of his young body as his life slowly departed.? Was I just a Warrior, the Great T’oit’ik-jolom named Fuck, or was I just a killer?

  I heard the soft huff of the ajwoyotz’ and Yochi answered. Bas and Eztli came into camp. “Brief me,” I said.

  “Izel has about three or four battalions, at least half of them militia,” began Bas. “We knew the militia just by the way they stood and held their weapons. They’ve fires all around, and a few platoons are eating, drinking, and beating nim-tums, blowing ch’aw-baqs, and shaking sochs, but the majority were resting. I think Izel wants us to think that they’re not preparing for battle.”

  “We took out two scouts, with honor,” announced Eztli. “Where do you want us to put the Warriors’ heads? We met more, but they were very near the perimeter of the camp. We thought it best to leave them rather than have an alarm raised, should something go wrong.”

  I looked down and brought my fists to my nose. I did not look at Bas. “You are a Q’eq Warrior, Eztli. Your mission was to recce. I ordered you not to engage unless you had to. You disobeyed my orders. Never do that again. Also, I never expect anything to go wrong, Eztli.” He raised his fist and I barely saw it, having only the stars dim light that passed through an overhead break in the canopy.

  “Is it not the duty of a Q’eq Warrior to analyze a situation and make a decision based on the current circumstances … thereby ensuring that nothing goes wrong, Nabe Nacon … even if the action goes against orders that may be outdated at that point?” rebutted Eztli.

  “Your arrogance has returned, Warrior. If it continues, you will suffer the consequences of the path you choose. We may discuss your insubordination further. I hope we do not have to. Give the heads to Clark and Parham. They’re preparing the stakes for them. Get some rest. As soon as the others come, you’ll lead a section back to the camp and place the heads. By then some of the fires may be out and the camp more settled.”

  “Nabe Nacon!” he replied, without emotion.

  Ichik, Chino, and Xipilli were back next and Ichik briefed me. “We moved north of the city, north of the yaxché and continued all around to the Temple of the Two Stelae. We met none of Izel’s scouts or Xico’s. We came back, but used a different tract. Again, we encountered no scouts or picquets. It was quiet.” I nodded.

  “Nabe Nacon!”

  “Yes, Xipilli.”

  “Why haven’t we let Nabe Kaloonte’ Xico know we are here?”

  “He would want us in the city,” I answered. “We are Q’eq Warriors. We no longer fight as they fight. What we are doing is going to create fear among Izel’s Warriors, especially the militia. I hope that fear makes them hesitant to fight. A Kaloonte’ may command, but if his waachs are hesitant the battle will be lost.”

  Ikan, Teul, and Huehue returned. They had taken out five scouts. “We had no problems going through the city,” briefed Ikan. “I think that many of the citizens may have left the city by the Eastern Sacbeob as Izel approached. There were very few torches, but there were militia hidden in sections, and archers on the buildings. Several times we had to avoid fireteams.” He chuckled. “If we had bumped into one of them, I don’t think they would have believed we were on their side.”

  “And K’an II’s army?”

  “The bulk of the Ajawinel’s Warriors are in the south of the city, north of where we marched, as it is from there Izel’s Warriors will make their advance. Sections of militia are also spread along the perimeter of the entire city. If any of Izel’s Warriors came through the jungle, the Militia would give the alarm, that is, if they weren’t already taken out. After going through the city, around the Temple of the Two Stelae, and then near by the cho, we marched south of the city. It was not until after crossing the Southeast Sacbeob that we began encountering scouts and picquets. We took out the five we encountered. Silently! With honor!” Their raised their fists.

  “Give the heads to Clark and Parham.” I thought for a moment then continued. “Warriors. Briefing.” They were immediately around me. “We have thirteen Warrior heads. We’ll need to get them into their camp before Izel realizes what has happened to his picquets and scouts. It will most likely be about nik’aj-aq’ab,528 midnight, when the next rotation takes place. We have to get the Warrior heads placed before that. Fifteen of you will go to the camp. Eztli is Nabe Nimal and Bas his Ukab as they have already been to the camp. Ichik, Yaotl, Teul, Ikan, Huehue, Chino, Xipilli, Iztali, Hulse, Bo, Clark, Parham
, and Chicahua. You will make up the section. Eztli and Bas will carry no Warrior heads as they will command and coordinate you. The rest of you will each carry one. Eztli will give you your orders, but the strategy is to infiltrate the camp as deeply as you can, but at the same time ensuring that you are not seen. It does not matter where you stake the Warrior heads. They will be discovered. When you have placed your Warrior’s head, do not try to regroup, just return here to base. If the alarm goes off, hurl the Warrior head into the camp and withdraw immediately and quickly.”

  “There is no honor in hurling the heads of Enemy Warriors, or running away in the face of battle,” argued Yochi, but sounding resigned.

  “In my village, our elders say that it is best to fight and run away and live to fight another day. Also, it is better to have only one Warrior’s head than two, one of them ours. If the head of a Q’eq Warrior is displayed on a stake in Izel’s camp, it will weaken us and strengthened them. It is also for that reason you will not engage the enemy, unless you have to. As you return, if you think you see someone in the jungle, sing the soft huff of the ajwoyotz’. If they do not respond, don’t let them see you and, again, don’t engage. Withdraw. I want you all back here as soon as you have completed your mission. Now, get your Warrior’s head and go.” The Warriors moved away and it was only Yochi, Patli, and I who remained.

  I felt like talking to Yochi. He had been a good friend, was a good friend, but it would not have been prudent of me, at that time. His emotions were running too high. I had to keep my mind clear of emotions. Even though we thought we had cleared the area of Izel’s scouts, we needed to be vigilant and quiet. I was certain that among Izel’s Warriors, there were Warriors as good as we were, or even better. So, we sat quietly in a circle, always aware of the jungle around us, as time passed.

  Subtle changes had occurred in the nighttime buzz of the insects and that indicated that it was after nik’aj-aq’ab, midnight. The kolol had not begun its haunting whistle, as yet, so I estimated it to be about three k’abs before aq’abil, dawn. Suddenly, many nim-tums began beating loudly and töt trumpets were blaring. There were many war whoops amongst angry cries and shouts. “Well,” said Patli, thoughtfully. “That means that the Warrior heads have been found.”

  “Or our Warriors,” cautioned Yochi.

  “Or both,” I said. We waited and my Warriors started to return, each singing the soft huff of the ajwoyotz’ and, each time, Yochi answering. As a Warrior approached, he gave us his name, until all fifteen had returned. No one spoke about their sally. No one carried a head.

  “Our mission has been accomplished,” briefed Eztli, once we were all together. We scouted the parts of the camp with the least activity then each Warrior went in with a low crawl. Bas and I stood outside the perimeter, one with the jungle, and, at times, we saw Warriors coming and going, often marching close by where our Warriors were covertly operating. There were no alarms. The Q’eq Warriors have done well tonight.” We all raised our fists’. “The alarm did not go off until we were already half k’ab away. What do we do now?”

  “We wait. Yochi. Set up a guard rotation. The rest of you sleep.”

  I lay across the cool jungle floor, listing to the jungle sounds of the night, the breathing of the men around me, smelling our sweat, smelling the stink of our unwashed bodies, smelling the drying blood on our skins, but smelling no fear. I slowly fell asleep in my jungle, devoid of emotions, devoid of pain, devoid of remorse … empty.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  THE

  KOMON WINAQ (MEETING) WITH IZEL

  K’iin 17 - The Uinal of Mol

  Monday, June 4, 1973

  Kinich Ahau had already risen two hands when I awoke, my bladder bursting with piss. I jumped up and walked away from the sleeping Warriors, reached into my loincloth and pulled out Tóolok. I looked at him and couldn’t help wondering if he still remembered how to fuck, or juk as Teul would say. I sighed. I was just being Eutimio Chiac. Maybe that was a good thing. At least, there was still some of me left. I tossed the thoughts away and sighed again, loudly, in relief as my piss started to flow. Everything was quiet except for the normal noises of the jungle, so I relaxed. I also knew that if there were anything to report, Yochi would have already kicked me up.

  “Nothing like a good piss first think in the morning,” said Teul, chuckling. “No. I take that back. A good juk is always better.”

  “Is fucking the only thing on your mind, Teul?” I asked, giving Tóolok a good shake as I finished pissing.

  “Of course, Chiac. What else should there be? I’m still young, not like you. Other than my responsibility to you and my comrades, my only other obligation is to my toon, that is, satisfying my toon. And that’s the way it should be. Come on, Chiac. Isn’t that the way it should be?” He was grinning.

  I grimaced. “I wish that’s the way it was with me. I sometimes wish that my only obligation was to Tóolok. Life would be simpler than it is now.” I felt my face darken. “When Bas and I just used to get drunk, and fuck, and soldier, and hunt when we were on ‘stand-down’, my life was simple and I was happy. Now it has become very complicated and I don’t fokin like it.”

  “Madafok! I’m sorry, Chiac. I didn’t mean to take you down that road. Sometimes I talk too much madafok.”

  “It’s okay, Teul. You have nothing to apologize for, although I do agree that you talk too much. You’re not only my friend, you’re my brother; just like Bas and Rhys. Achalals like Bo and Choj.” I chuckled, sitting down. “Thinking about it, I can’t even remember the last time I fucked and I was a man wetting Tóolok two or three times a week, at least. And on those nights, I would come three or four times, if I wasn’t too drunk.” I chuckled again. “I think I hit five times once. To be truthful, whenever I was on stand-down, all Tóolok did was stand-up.”

  “Yu madafok laiyad.529 And no five times a madafok. Yu laiyad, man. And that stand-down stand-up thing. I’ve heard that already. My mate from Orange Walk530 used to always say that. We called him Ke’l,531 I don’t know why. Maybe that was his nickname. He madafok laiyad too.”

  I laughed. “I remember waking up one morning with no skin on my knees. And, unlike you, I didn’t have to go behind bars and catch gonorrhea.” I laughed, softly.”

  Teul glared at me. “Don’t go there, Chiac.” He looked puzzled. “Well, at least you’re sounding like your old self, again. That’s a good thing. Stay right to madafok there.”

  “I wish I could, Teul. I wish I could. Anyway, I’m fokin hungry,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I suppose all the Warriors are too. And, of course, we have no grub.”

  “In that case, grubs will have to do. I just need to look for some rotting wood.”

  “I think I’ll wait a little bit,” I smiled. “They’re good, but I want something heavier, more substantial.”

  Teul grinned. “Are we going into Ox Witz Ha today?”

  “I will make a decision later, but I want to get some information out of there first. It may be worthwhile for us to remain here and harass Naj Tunich tonight again, if necessary. I’ll probably send in Yochi to check with K’an II. He may be working on something and I need to know that we aren’t doing anything that doesn’t fit in with his plans.”

  “Well, if you want information, I can probably provide some,” said a voice behind me. I turned. It was Papan. Patli stood beside him.

  “I won’t ask how the fok you found us,” I said, gratefully.

  “I am the Nim-q’ij Scout of Ajawinel K’an II,” he answered, smiling. “I knew you were here from last night. I have also informed K’an II of your presence. He is pleased with your victory over Mahanamtz and the rescue of Xch’úup Xma’ K’aaba’. I don’t know if he is pleased about the Warriors heads.”

  I didn’t see Mahanamtz die. “Patli. Get Ukab Nacon. I waited until Yochi arrived before continuing. “What’s happening, Papan?”

  “Well, you certainly have made Izel very angry. You cau
sed quite a pandemonium in his camp.”

  “And the Warriors?”

  “His Warriors are angry too, and the militia, the bulk of his army, are very frightened. I think Ixkun Warriors are ready to pack up.”

  “Has Teyacapan arrived yet?”

  “No, but he sent Ichtaca to inform Xico that they should be arriving once Kinich Ahau begins his journey towards the west.”

  “Any word on Xch’úup Xma’ K’aaba’?”