“There is talk that our lineage lacks the proper line of descent, that our ruler has no sons and is unlikely to produce any. Some whisper that a fresh branch is needed, sprouts from another family of the sacred blood. Some young men are gathering, grouping around the leader of this talk.”
“Who is that man speaking such?” shot Ahkal Mo’ Nab.
“Ek Chuuah.”
“That puppy! His sacred blood is thin. Men listen to this foolishness?”
“So it seems.”
“We will bring this to a halt. Soon we will do the deer hoof binding ceremony to name you as my heir,” the ruler said decisively.
Kan Bahlam lowered his head slightly in acquiescence. It was inevitable, and he was prepared for it – and for the consequences affecting his daughter.
“Our people need some distraction, some activities to bring their idle minds back to order,” the ruler continued. “Usihwitz and Yokib need a few lessons about respecting their May Ku city and keeping away from the temptations of Kan. We will schedule a flower war with them in the next season of flowering. And we will send some observant merchants to Kan for trading, to learn more of Uitah Chan’s plans.”
The brothers discussed details of these events, selecting ahauob to take charge and organize different aspects. As their discussion finished, the ruler looked toward Yohl Ik’nal and asked:
“What make you of these happenings, Yohl Ik’nal?”
“Much have I learned today,” she replied. “And much I do not know about the workings of power among men and cities. What I see you plan today, in your wisdom and experience, appears good, that difficulties will continue I do not doubt, but the Triad Gods will guide you.”
“And of the succession? You know what is to follow.”
She hesitated, recalling her vision. It was the ruler’s right to know.
“Much am I troubled by these recent events. I made vision quest by means of the Jeweled Tree to the Upperworld to seek understanding. It was shown to me that our lineage will continue intact, but not without difficulties.” She spoke in a clear, strong voice that commanded the men’s attention.
“One will come, a ruler who will bring Lakam Ha to great creative heights and leave a legacy the world will admire for untold times. We will face adversity but the B’aakal lineage will continue. Details were not revealed, but the vision showed that I will indeed be the bearer of royal blood to continue the Bahlam dynasty.”
“An auspicious communication from the Upperworld,” said Ahkal Mo’ Nab. “It appears you are becoming skilled as a seer. May your vision hold true.”
Yohl Ik’nal bowed her head as her father regarded her with pleasure. The powers of a seer would command respect and inspire awe. Both were necessary for successful leadership.
What she did not speak, however, was prohibited by her vow of secrecy: that after this apex of greatness a vast shadow would fall upon Lakam Ha, the Maya people and the entire world.
6
Mists steamed from stucco as the late afternoon sun warmed the plazas, damp from the midday rain. Wispy spirals wove among treetops and draped lofty roofcombs crowning temples high on the hills. In a large courtyard, smoke from cooking fires joined with mists and steaming stewpots to create a succulent haze. Laughter and murmuring voices made sun-glossed droplets quiver upon soft waves of sound. Random flute notes and drum thumps darted as musicians tuned.
The household of Kan Bahlam and Xoc Akal was preparing a feast in honor of their daughter’s transformation to adulthood. Cooks stirred large clay pots simmering with stews of venison and wild turkey mixed with beans, squash, tomatoes and sweet potatoes and liberally seasoned with salt, peppers, coriander and oregano. Women bent over flattened grinding stones, rolling corn kernels with tubular stones into fine flour. This maize was mixed with water to form dough for flat cakes. Leafy green chaya leaves or mashed beans were added before cooking them on hot stones over open hearths. The maize dough was also made into drinks by adding milk and water, usually served hot. Another flavorful drink was made with toasted corn kernels that were ground finely with chile peppers and cacao.
Ceramic bowls with geometric patterns and fanciful figures were filled with fruit cut into wedges and served fresh: Guava, papaya, nance, sapodilla, mamey, pitahaya, ciricote, wild grapes, plums and avocado. The tropical forests provided an abundance of fruit and the Maya cultivated their favorites in terraced gardens. Nuts from cashew trees and cocoyol palms were boiled for snacking, or dried and ground into flour that served as a substitute for maize.
Starchy yucca root and other vegetables were boiled and seasoned with annatto, an orange colored spice that gave picant flavor and golden color to sauces. For added taste, chile, black pepper and tomato were mixed into these annatto sauces.
Fermented drinks were much enjoyed at special ceremonies. Most common was balche, made by fermenting bark of the balche tree in water and honey. This produced a strong-flavored and potent alcoholic beverage, used to excess in certain religious rites. From toasted maize they made picul-aqahla having lower alcohol concentration; its very name means “a drink in abundance” and it was the mainstay of banquets. Other alcoholic drinks were made from fermented brews of broad beans and squash seeds.
In honor of this great occasion, a special dish was baked in an oven dug into the earth, called pib. Fire was started in the bottom of the pit, and when coals became red-hot, stone slabs were placed over them. A wild peccary was tonight’s choice for the pib, prepared for roasting and wrapped in many layers of banana leaves, seasoned with maize gruel and spices. Over the wrapped packet they filled the earth oven with leaves, branches and stones. Pib or pibil was a favorite dish among the Maya, tender and succulent after the meat was roasted in the covered oven for several hours.
Xoc Akal passed among the cooks, attendants and musicians to ensure that all was proceeding well. She glanced west checking the sun’s progress, smiling inwardly as the horizon assumed the green layer typical of early tropical evenings. Soon the westward glow would fade from green to indigo as Father Sun settled into the watery Underworld and the starry Lords of the Night took their places in the sky. Tonight the moon was at first quarter and would hang in mid-heavens, with Venus off her lower tip. This lovely configuration held symbolic importance, one of the reasons why this time was chosen for the transformation ritual of Yohl Ik’nal. The waxing moon signified the maiden’s ripening into an adult woman. Venus was the wandering star of destiny, whose deity Lahun Chan could be fierce. When Venus rose as morningstar or eveningstar, it could bring malign influences unless properly propitiated. But when Venus was “captured” by the tip of the moon, it became a cooperative force for unfolding one’s life purpose.
Tomorrow night Yohl Ik’nal would climb to the mouth of the Cave of the Xaman near the summit of K’uk Lakam Witz, the sacred mountain upon which Lakam Ha was situated. There she would do vigil as the Moon and Venus came into view, make offerings, pray and meditate upon her destiny and purpose. But tonight they would celebrate.
At dusk the torches were lighted around the courtyard, and guests began to gather. Ahauob of the highest classes, nobles, merchants and warriors came in festive dress to partake the largesse of the ruler’s brother. Men wore hip and loincloths of white and black, embroidered in designs of red, yellow, blue and green. Loincloths hung below the knee, slightly longer in front with tassels or fringes at the bottoms. The men were adorned with necklaces and pectoral collars of jade, obsidian and colored stones in brown and blue tints. Many wore diadems of stones or metallic beads, or small headdresses of feathers and beads. Those of the noblest lineages had elongated skulls, a genetic trait sometimes copied by others using head compression boards during infancy. Wrist cuffs and heavy bracelets were common. Most men wore woven and embroidered sandals though some went barefoot. Men wore their hair long, pulled into a topknot and either twisted around the crown, or dangling down the back.
Women wore huipils, shift dresses secured above the breasts. Huipils var
ied in length, often hanging below the knees, though some were waist-length with an underskirt. At times they had woven waistbands. These colorful garbs used all the Maya palate in dazzling embroidered designs. Women were adorned with jewelry equally heavy and large as the men’s, and both sexes wore large ear sporls, weighted for balance. These heavy sporls elongated the earlobes. Most women braided and twisted their long hair into fanciful creations, weaving in feathers, beads and ceramic figures. Headdresses worn for social occasions were smaller than those for public rituals.
Numerous mats were spread around the courtyard, and guests gradually settled onto them sitting in small groups. The host family and higher nobles gravitated to the long veranda fronting the palace, opening onto the courtyard through a series of columns. As they settled onto mats the musicians struck up a lively tune, rhythmic drums and wooden clackers underlying cheerful wooden flute and ceramic whistle melodies. The music ended with a wooden trumpet fanfare as Kan Bahlam rose to his feet.
“Greetings of the evening, and welcome to our celebration.” His deep baritone voice resonated off stone and plaster. “You have all witnessed the transformation ceremony of our daughter, Yohl Ik’nal, a ceremony that found favor in the eyes of the Triad Gods and the people alike. As the ceremony happened according to the calendar, now also happens the celebration. All is in order, as given and ordained by the Gods. This night we will feast, we will drink, we will dance to show gratitude, to give recognition of the abundance and protection that is drawn to us by our Holy B’aakal Lord, Ahkal Mo’ Nab, K’uhul Ahau of Lakam Ha.”
The musicians played another fanfare, more elaborate and drawn out, as torches appeared through the main palace doorway. A contingent of priests emerged and in their midst walked Ahkal Mo’ Nab followed by his wife. Waves of throaty cheers greeted his entrance. In the wavering torchlight, the slender ruler seemed larger and more vigorous than Kan Bahlam knew was the case. They had discussed whether the ruler should attend the ceremony, since he was weakened by nightly bouts of fever. But, not attending would communicate a message neither man wanted. They agreed the ruler’s presence would be brief, but was necessary.
Ahkal Mo’ Nab made the rounds, walking among seated guests who by protocol remained still as the ruler spoke to some, touched hands with others, smiled at all. His wife graciously gestured and chatted with women. Music played softly during this social ritual, and when the royal pair took their places on the mat with Kan Bahlam’s family, the serving of the meal began.
Attendants moved quickly through the crowd, bearing large gourds full of steaming stews, reed platters heaped with maize cakes and ceramic bowls full of cut fruit. Diners sipped stew from the gourds or used chunks of maize cakes to scoop mouthfuls. Fruit was eaten with fingers, seeds carefully discarded into smaller bowls. Decorated ceramic cups of picul-aqahla were distributed to both men and women. Balche would be served later to those, primarily men, who wanted stronger spirits.
Murmurs of anticipation announced the first servings of roasted peccary from the pib, which were ceremoniously carried through the crowd to the royal families. Moist and aromatic with herbs, tender chunks were served in gourd bowls, scooped onto maize cakes or eaten with fingers. Much finger-licking and smacking in appreciation followed initial tastes of this treat. As soon as bowls or cups were empty, alert servers replaced them with brimming new ones. The meal was exceptional, and the guests immersed themselves in complete enjoyment. Laughter and muted conversation filled the courtyard with merriment.
Yohl Ik’nal shared a mat adjacent to her parents with her three closest girlfriends. Two had preceded her with their transformation to adulthood ceremonies, although none so elaborate as hers. They laughed together and talked of shared experiences, much as they always had, although Yohl Ik’nal perceived that the girls accorded her a subtle deference, and sent appraising glances under lowered lids. She felt the difference and a small current of sadness drifted across her heart. She teetered on the cusp of who and what she would become, but a demarcation was ritually anchored when she was acknowledged as lineage bearer. Her fate diverged from that of her friends.
The girls had eaten lightly and were badgering Na’kin about her romantic interests. The oldest of the group, Na’kin was being courted by a popular young man and her family looked upon him with favor.
“Were these said, his vows of devotion?” asked the youngest girl Tulix, now about one tun from her own ceremony.
“What of it, were it so?” countered Na’kin coyly.
“So it was? Have you not just said so?”
“Said I so? Where are your ears? They must be filled with moon water.”
“Not so much moon water as yours with moon-ing sighs,” Tulix archly retorted.
All the girls laughed as Na’kin blushed. She feigned reluctance as she allowed the others to draw a few little intimacies out. Clearly she was receptive to the attentions of her young admirer.
During a lull in conversation, Sak Nicte who was closest to Yohl Ik’nal, studied her friend with a mock-serious scowl.
“Then comes this thought, I do think it, that we ask such questions of Yohl Ik’nal,” she pronounced weightily.
Startled expressions greeted her comment, not the least from the subject herself.
“Of what speak you?” blurted Tulix first. All eyes bore upon Yohl Ik’nal, who shook her head in confusion and furrowed her brows.
“I know not of what you speak,” she said firmly.
“Perhaps she should know!” “Now you must tell!” the other two exclaimed.
With a sly smile, Sak Nicte related:
“A certain young man has been asking many questions about the daughter of Kan Bahlam, since her transformation ceremony. This certain man has spoken in glowing words of her beauty, her majesty, her noble spirit. He was seen watching her from across the plaza with eyes full of admiration. His friends are making jokes of how smitten he is. Of such things, I have heard much.”
“Who is it? Who—who? You must tell!”
Yohl Ik’nal looked quizzical. She certainly had not noticed any young man taking an interest in her. But then, she was immersed in her ceremony and the political considerations she now had.
“Do you want to know?” Sak Nicte asked Yohl Ik’nal.
“It appears I must,” she answered ruefully.
After a suspense-building pause, Sak Nicte replied:
“Here come the words, then. The name of the one who seeks information about Yohl Ik’nal, who speaks in such admiration of her, who sighs to see her pass. Now it comes, now it passes my lips . . .”
All the girls’ stared mesmerized at Sak Nicte’s lips, which moved silently then pouted and parted in a huge grin.
“Speak! We do not hear you! What did you say?”
Laughing, Sak Nicte shook her head and pointed to her lips. Again the girls focused breathlessly. In a forced whisper, just enough to be heard above the crowd, she said:
“The name . . . his name . . . Hun Pakal.”
Tulix gasped, Na’kin sighed, and Yohl Ik’nal looked even more quizzical.
“Hun Pakal! What a handsome man!” from Tulix.
“Hun Pakal! He is good friends with my sweetheart,” said Na’kin.
“Hun Pakal, son of the scribe who is my father’s distant cousin?” asked Yohl Ik’nal.
“The very one.” Sak Nicte crossed her arms triumphantly.
In the ensuing silence, each girl examined Yohl Ik’nal’s face and found nothing there with any emotional charge.
“She is innocent of this information,” observed Na’kin as Tulix nodded confirmation.
But Sak Nicte would not be discouraged. Leaning forward, she drew the girls heads together and whispered:
“He is here tonight. Watch, observe, you will see.”
Music began as the meal remnants were cleared away and the mats moved to the edges of the courtyard. The time had come for dancing, which the Maya greatly enjoyed. Two lines were forming, men on one side and women th
e other, facing in pairs. Drums, rattles and wood clackers beat a stately rhythm as flutes and whistles warbled intertwining melodies. Bodies straight, the dancers used a toe-heel step while moving arms in small arcs, palms outward and almost touching the partner’s. In perfect unison the pairs stepped in place and made matching arcs with closely aligned palms, creating circles in the air between them. After several minutes, each dancer spun around and moved one partner to the right. New dancers joined those without partners, or the end man danced down the line to join the woman at the other end. Soon the courtyard was full as feathers bobbled, jewelry clanked, loincloths flared and torchlight glinted off stone and metal.
The four girls soon joined the dancing, Na’kin pairing with her sweetheart and the others waiting for an open man in the line. Yohl Ik’nal danced gracefully, glad for distraction from their conversation, while a bit apprehensive that her unknown admirer might suddenly appear – if she could remember what he looked like.
She did remember. With a jolt, she realized the young man across from her was Hun Pakal. Yes, she did recall those features, though matured from the boy she occasionally saw at gatherings. She had to admit that Tulix was right, he was handsome. Half a head taller than she, his body was muscular and lithe, moving with contained power in the stately dance rhythm. He had the noble’s elongated skull, prominent nose and large sensuous lips with dark almond eyes looking intensely into hers. Did she see something special in those eyes?
They spun around and moved to the next partner. Hun Pakal glanced over his shoulder and she felt a quick shiver as their eyes met, an unspoken promise. She was surprised that her heart was beating more rapidly than the exercise demanded.
More vigorous dances for men followed, allowing a display of stomping footwork, spinning and leaping. Then women demonstrated their grace and knowledge with delicate and intricate steps accompanied by symbolic hand signs telling stories or conveying feelings. After a long women’s dance sequence in which Yohl Ik’nal drew an admiring chorus at her virtuosity, she sought refreshing water at the adjoining cistern plaza. A wall separated the cistern plaza from the courtyard, and through the open doorway torchlight created a flickering rectangle.
The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque Page 7