The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque

by Leonide Martin

  She sat on the low rim of the cistern, dipping a gourd tied to a long pole into the clear water. Underground streams cut veins through the limestone ridge supporting Lakam Ha, and many openings were made to access these for household use. She sipped the wet coolness and splashed a little on face and neck. Relaxing in the semi-darkness, she did not notice the figure enter the plaza.

  Suddenly she straightened, alert to another presence. Turning to look, at first she did not recognize the man standing near. His face was in shadow as torchlight framed his body. But already she knew the contours of that body.

  “Hun Pakal?” she said tentatively.

  “Ix Yohl Ik’nal,” he replied softly.

  They watched each other in silence for long moments. She motioned to the rim beside her, and as he sat she offered water from the gourd. He drank thirstily, and nodded thanks. The space between them was charged with energy.

  “Much do I enjoy, and much appreciate this excellent gathering to honor your transformation to adulthood,” he said a little stiffly.

  “My heart is glad that you find pleasure here,” she replied.

  “More pleasure than you can imagine,” he blurted, hand touching his lips as if to recall the words.

  “My father is a generous man, and my mother an excellent hostess.” She spoke quickly to cover the embarrassment. “Was this not a truly fine feast?”

  “Most truly fine,” he assented, regaining some poise.

  “And most entertaining dancing,” she continued. “You danced well.”

  “And you also.”

  She glanced away, uncertain where to go with the conversation.

  “All is well with your family?” she asked. “I am regretful that I have not visited with them for some time.”

  “All is well with my parents. You recall my sister died several tuns ago? We are recovered and know her spirit dwells in the stars with the ancestors.”

  “Yes, I recall. Her death was in childbirth? I am certain her spirit is a shining star now. Brave deaths of laboring women and honorable warriors receive the blessing of Ix Chel, our Mother Earth Rainbow. By the goddess’ promise, their spirits avoid Xibalba and go to the stars.”

  “Salutations to Ix Chel.” Both made the salutation hand sign.

  “You have no other brothers or sisters, am I correct?” Yohl Ik’nal strained to remember what she could of his family.

  “That is correct. Now we both are only children.”

  They laughed, more to ease the tension than for any real reason.

  “Often have I wished for a brother or sister,” she said wistfully, remembering her infant brother’s death.

  “Have you been lonely?”

  She glanced quickly into his eyes, dark and deep with kindness. She nodded, wondering that he would so quickly realize this.

  “It must be so,” he said thoughtfully. “One of your family position and especially now that you are recognized as lineage bearer. But you have women friends, tonight I watched as you laughed together. . ummh, and I have seen you with them.”

  Now she laughed in earnest.

  “You were watching us?”

  “Many eyes were directed toward the veranda where the ruler sat with your family, and you were just beside them.” He sounded a bit defensive, but quickly changed his tone. “Yes, Yohl Ik’nal, I was watching you and I have been watching you. I am thinking much about you.”

  “Oh.” She lowered her eyes and felt a flush on her cheeks.

  “This I ask: that I may continue to watch and think about you.”

  His voice had a vibrant timbre she had never heard before. It set off resonances deep within her being, sending another shiver through her chest. He moved a little closer on the cistern rim, not touching but she felt heat radiating from his body, burning her skin.

  “Oh.” She could only murmur again, aghast at her loss of words.

  Silence hung heavy between them. She kept her gaze averted, eyes downward. Why was she so confused and befuddled? This was entirely unlike her usual way of being. Her downcast eyes watched his hand, brown and strong, that rested on his thigh. Another flight of shivers was set off as she noticed the rippling muscles of that thigh. As if in slow motion, his hand began moving and she watched in utter fascination, mesmerized as the hand slowly lifted toward her face. Gently, like the brush of a swallow’s wing, his hand cupped her chin and he lifted her face until their eyes met. Long and hungrily he gazed at her, sending the full impact of the bright flame in his eyes.

  “This I ask,” he whispered, “that I may continue.”

  From somewhere deep inside, from an unknown and untapped source of exquisite sensations, came the reply. Not her mind, but her heart spoke in a language both new and unfathomably ancient:

  “Yes, you may continue, Hun Pakal.”

  The god-bundles were almost ready. Two round pieces of white cotton fabric lay open on the stone altar, ready to receive the offerings. Yohl Ik’nal had deeply contemplated these offerings, meditating upon the Moon and Venus, seeking to intuit what their deities would most desire. Already the bundle for Venus held a piece of choice peccary roast from the feast, wrapped in banana leaf and tied with red and yellow embroidery. A fine obsidian blade, jade jewelry and shiny metallic beads surrounded the peccary. For the Moon, there were maize cakes in which dried berries and fruit were mixed, made by her own hand while chanting Ix Chel’s many names. A fine mica mirror was added to reflect the Full Moon’s brilliance, accompanied by blue stone beads and a thorny oyster shell from the distant sea, precious for its red hues that invoked both sunrise and renewed life.

  She sat back on her heels contemplating the bundles. Something else was needed, very special and personal, something of herself. Rising quickly she found her most elaborate headdress, worn for her transformation rite. With a tiny knife she cut off a splendid quetzal feather, long and intensely blue with a shimmering iridescent oval at the tip. Lahun Chan, the demanding and often ruthless deity of Venus would certainly be pleased with this offering. Carefully bending the feather in a circle around the other offerings, she tied the Venus god-bundle securely with colorful braided threads.

  What else for the Moon? Tonight X’yum Uc was in her waxing crescent, the maiden phase but soon moving toward fullness. How could she attune to these energies through gifts of her own being? Her quest tonight was to explore her destiny, to anticipate what might be required in fulfilling new responsibilies of lineage bearer. One who bears the lineage . . certainly that meant having children of royal blood who might become leaders, even rulers, of Lakam Ha. Blood and childbearing, all concerns of Ix Chel, goddess of fertility, pregnancy, childbirth, healing, abundance, weaving and watery things. Ix Chel, Moon goddess, Earth Mother goddess, Lady Rainbow, special to women in all phases of life.

  In a flash of memory it came to her. What was more significant to Earth Mother and the Moon in her maiden phase than the first menstrual blood of young women? In her puberty transformation ceremony, she ritually saved her first menstrual blood. Small pieces of bark paper were used to catch drops of this blood, considered highly potent for magical and ritual purposes. She located the ceramic bowl into which she had placed the blood-spotted papers, hidden behind mats in a corner, not thought of in years. Taking out six pieces, one for each year since menarche, she reverently placed them in the Moon’s god-bundle. Tying it with more braided threads, she hummed a song to Ix Chel and knew it was complete.

  As dusk fell, the High Priestess Lahun Uc came to conduct Yohl Ik’nal to the Cave of the Shaman. Two male attendants carried torches, long-handled flint axes for path clearing, and large knives in their belts for protection against night predators.

  “It is time, are you prepared?” asked Lahun Uc.

  “All is prepared, Holy Priestess,” Yohl Ik’nal answered, clasping left shoulder in a bow of respect.

  “Now we go.”

  The High Priestess gave hand signs; one attendant picked up Yohl Ik’nal’s bag containing things she would ne
ed during her vigil, and the other led the procession toward the towering mountain behind the palace. The High Priestess clanked metal discs and chanted, as Yohl Ik’nal grasped her god-bundles and held them close against her breasts. The path was wide and smooth for some distance from the palace, but soon curved upward ascending the steep hillside, becoming narrow and rocky. Trees and brush obscured vision most of the way, but from time to time an opening in the foliage gave views of the city below. Dozens of buildings dotted the level plateau, their roofcombs catching sunset’s final glow. Lower structures settled into gloom. Flickering lights from cooking fires in numerous courtyards twinkled like fallen stars far below. Vast plains faded into muted blue-green haze where the plateau fell off beyond the farthest buildings.

  Now the climb was steeper, commanding concentration in the semi-darkness. The four climbers were breathing hard, but pushed on steadily. Rocks clinked as they turned underfoot, and the air moistened as mists crept around the heights. Higher and higher they climbed, the trail taking them to the far side of the mountain where ridge after ridge undulated into the distance, covered with jungle foliage. The High Priestess stopped chanting to catch her breath for climbing. The lead attendant paused occasionally to whack away lianas and brush obstructing the path.

  As night deepened, sounds of the jungle emerged. Insects chirped, whirred and clicked rhythmically, frogs croaked and night birds gave eerie calls. In the distance, the prolonged roars of howler monkeys echoed back and forth. Throaty snorts and cracking brush announced the rapid departure of peccaries and deer as the human intruders interrupted their forage. Although the attendants kept ears attuned for the soft, short grunts of jaguars, they heard none.

  The trail broke through the jungle into a clearing that the torchlight quickly illuminated, revealing the mouth of a cave. Two huge boulders were placed on either side, carved with many hieroglyphics. A round stone altar sat between the boulders and the cave entrance, a gaping crevace high enough to admit a standing man. The attendants took positions in front of the boulders, the High Priestess and her charge stood in front of the altar. The priestess intoned greetings:

  “Guardians of this cave, ancient ones who serve the Witz God, we salute you and we greet you. It is I, Lahun Uc, High Priestess of Lakam Ha who call to you. Here with me is a young woman, Yohl Ik’nal of the ruling lineage, who has come to do vigil and seek guidance from the spirit world. You who are keepers of the Cave of the Shaman, we ask that you appear and give permission for this vigil.”

  After a lengthy silence, they heard footsteps from inside the cave. An old shaman slowly emerged, bent form draped in a dark cloak. He fixed deep-sunken eyes on the two women, speaking in a quavering voice:

  “It is known that the young one comes. Permission is given that she abide for her vigil at the cave entrance. Not to enter the cave, that is not permitted. Alone she must be. Fire you may light in the clearing. Return for her at dawn.”

  Nodding repeatedly, head bobbing as if beyond his control, the old shaman turned and shuffled back into the dark mouth of the cave, disappearing from sight. The attendants gathered branches and soon a modest fire blazed in the well-used fire-pit. They stacked additional branches nearby. Fire was the best method to keep predators away and all Maya learned this early.

  “We leave you now,” said Lahun Uc. She touched fingertips with Yohl Ik’nal and gazed intently into the young woman’s eyes. “You are ready. Whatever else is needed, you must discover for yourself.”

  “You have mentored my heart and spirit well. Receive now my gratitude once again.”

  The women exchanged faint smiles, then Lahun Uc turned and with the attendants disappeared down the jungle path.

  Yohl Ik’nal removed a thick mat from the bag, placing it between the altar and cave entrance. There was a blanket to ward off the night chill, a gourd of water, sprigs of aromatic herbs, a ceramic whistle, an embroidered altar cloth and her incense burner with a supply of copal. Laying the god-bundles on the mat, she chanted the purification song while brushing the altar with the herbs. Blowing the whistle, she circled the altar nine times to seal ritual space from invasion by the Bolon Tiku, the fearful Nine Lords of the Night. She arranged the cloth in the altar’s center, whispering prayers and making hand signs for blessing and empowerment.

  Taking the incense burner, she approached the fire and glanced around the edges of the clearing to reassure herself that no creatures hovered there, neither night animals nor meddling spirits. Nothing alerted her perceptions, physical or intuitive. She used two sticks to move glowing coals into the incensor bowl, returned it to the altar and dropped pieces of copal onto the coals. At once pungent smoke arose, carrying the acrid and sweet odors of copal tree resin to her nose. She sniffed appreciatively, enjoying the tickling sensation and evocative smells.

  Kneeling on the mat with arms outstretched, she began the chant sequence that brought her consciousness into ritual space.

  Dzu bulul h’yum k’in, dzu tip’il x’yum uc

  Already the Master Sun has set, and the Mistress Moon has risen

  Pepenobe cu lembaloob ichil u lol caan

  The butterflies shine amid the heavenly flowers

  C’suku’unob ka’ c’kiikob a’ek’ob

  Our brothers and sisters the stars

  A’k’abe, Hun Ahb K’u, a’ k’ab cuk’alala

  The night, Hun Ahb K’u, is your hand that closes

  Tichile cu yuchil tu lacal

  And within it everything happens

  Hebix u topol nek’e, hebix u hok’ol yalche y tip’il lol

  As the seed buds, as the flower emerges and blossoms

  Beyo hebix u zihil le uinick

  In this way is born the human being

  Bel u yuchul tu lacal tu k’ab Hun Ahb K’u

  Thus it is that everything happens by the hands of Hun Ahb K’u

  Ti tech in dzama in uinclil yetel in vol.

  To you I surrender my body and my spirit.

  Yohl Ik’nal meditated, allowing the waves of thought to drift away. She sensed her consciousness expanding in larger and larger spheres, beyond the clearing, above the mountains, into the dark night and twinkling stars. She waited until her inner vision could perceive the crescent moon rising above the tree-lined horizon, dangling Venus from the lower tip.

  Opening her eyes, she looked over her left shoulder and there was the moon, hovering just above the trees and startlingly large. Shifting to view the moon squarely, she sat cross-legged and watched the crescent slowly climb. Venus shone brightly at the lower tip, assuming a blue tone intermittently.

  “X’yum Uc, Mistress Moon,” she whispered, “I greet and salute you. Yum Venus, Master Lahun Chan, receive my homage. Tonight this one, daughter of Ahau Kan Bahlam and lineage bearer of the Holy B’aakal Lords, sits to do vigil with you upon the Sacred Mountain, K’uk Lakam Witz. Here I offer what I have brought, god-bundles with gifts for you each. Accept these offerings of precious things, things of my heart and hands and body. Now they are yours, now I am placing them upon the altar, may they find your favor.”

  She rose and took the two god-bundles to the altar, placing one on either side of the incense burner. She added more copal and fanned the smoke over the bundles with graceful hand signs for purifying and giving. Standing, she lifted her hands toward the Moon and Venus, palms open and facing the heavenly bodies. She drew down their energies through her palms, and then crossed both arms over her chest in a deep bow of respect and honor.

  Sitting cross-legged she meditated again and focused on the Moon and Venus until she sensed that they had accepted her offerings. Then she spoke:

  “Tonight in this vigil, this one has a request of each of you. This one would know something of her destiny, what she is called to do in this life in the Middle World. You, Beings of the Upperworld, can see so much more from your view high above. You have power to set the paths of those creatures that walk the Earth. When we call upon you, you can send your influence between dimensions. We a
re, in truth, all connected through the Yax Che, the Sacred Ceiba-Jeweled Tree that reaches through all dimensions. This I have learned, this I do believe. X’yum Uc, Mistress Moon, Yum Lahun Chan, Master Venus, hear my request and respond.”

  For a while Yohl Ik’nal sat with eyes closed, aware and open, receptive. She waited patiently, keeping the mind still and thoughtless. Night sounds of jungle insects and crackling fire barely penetrated her consciousness. Time was void, meaningless in this expanded state.

  Images began to build in her inner vision. Sounds of strife, conflict, chaotic movements within Lakam Ha. Women wailing, children crying, men screaming as torches filled the plazas that were splattered with blood. Warriors from elsewhere were chipping and defacing glyphs as Laham Ha’s men fought back. Gradually these images faded and she saw herself in council, but she was leading the discussions in the Popol Nah. Her face was older, jaw set strongly and hair showing gray strands. She sensed that Lakam Ha was restored but still troubled. This, she knew, came from Venus.

  In her expanded state, she received this information dispassionately. Any surge of emotion would break the connection with the Upperworld beings. Calmly she waited, shifting focus to the Moon. New images formed, those of family life. She saw herself with two children, a boy and girl. The boy, older than his sister, had a weaker aura that seemed fragmented. The girl’s aura shone brightly, golden and strong, her presence commanding. The deity K’awill, patron of the B’aakal lineage, hovered near the girl. Then she saw Lakam Ha, dramatically changed. The city was much larger, with pyramids and palaces of breath-taking grandeur, radiating grace and harmony. Numerous people went about daily activities in peace and prosperity. Visitors with strange countenances wearing exotic clothes mingled with the townspeople. The Great One to come who sprang from her lineage blood appeared next to her daughter, now a much older woman. All was well, all was magnificent, the gods smiled upon Lakam Ha. Then the images, sent by the Moon, began to fade.