The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque
Page 21
The royal court building, the K’uhul Ahau Nah – House of the Holy Lord, was a long low structure with five doors. The central door was largest, giving visual access from the plaza into the throne room. Interior doors on either side of the throne room opened to smaller antechambers with exterior doors. The final two exterior doors opened into lateral waiting rooms with no interior doors. Here stone benches lined the walls where visitors waited to progress to the antechambers.
No furniture occupied the antechambers; visitors would stand, squat or sit on floor mats waiting to approach the ruler. The throne was a wide platform elevated to waist level; the double-headed jaguar throne with pedestal legs ending in paws and a Witz monster mask on the front panel. Luxurious woven blankets and a jaguar pelt covered reed mats. Glyphs painted on the wall behind the throne declared the pre-eminence of the B’aakal Triad Deities. A pedestal beside the throne held an open-brimmed wicker basket with chevron and beehive designs; it served to receive offerings. At the opposite edge of the throne was the scribe’s square table made of firm, tightly woven wicker. When the scribe sat with crossed legs, the table was at knee level for ease of writing.
The Court throne room was quite different than the Popol Nah, where the ruler sat in council with ahauob and city leaders. The Popol Nah throne was smaller and less ornate, flanked by wall benches slightly below throne level. The K’uhul Ahau Nah throne was not only more impressive but it stood alone in the room. As visitors approached the ruler seated on this throne, they sat or knelt on floor mats, scooting forward to take their turn making offerings and speaking with the ruler. The architecture and spatial arrangement of the rooms powerfully conveyed the ruler-subject, higher-lower dynamics. Visitors became supplicants, acknowledging the divine elevation of the ruler and their dependent status upon his or her intercession with deities and natural forces.
The K’uhul Ahau Nah was the place of formalities, of courtly discourse. The refined art of the courtier in bodily attire and habitus, in ritualized behaviors and conventions of speech, and in the all-important procedures of giving tribute created an ambiance in the court that was particular to Maya high culture.
The main plaza of Lakam Ha buzzed with activity on mornings when the royal court was in session. Ahauob, city leaders and prominent commoners such as merchants and traders congregated in the plaza. As they waited, the hum of conversation mingled with flutes, drums and rattles of musicians. Servants stood beside their masters, holding baskets full of tribute. Many noble women were present, attired in richly woven huipils and fantastic feather headdresses.
On this clear, sunny morning an air of excitement mingled with steam evaporating as the stoned warmed. The sahals of Popo’, Yokib, Usihwitz and Sak Tz’i were present, bringing their first harvest tribute, along with the Ah Kuch Kabs of numerous smaller villages. The taking of tribute was a public ceremony, and commoners of Lakam Ha crowded around the plaza edges, waiting an opportunity to glimpse their K’uhul Ahau seated on the throne. They gloried in this social affirmation.
The stately cadence of royal drummers announced the ruler’s procession. Silence fell upon the crowd as standard-bearers entered the plaza, followed by the royal guard in full warrior regalia. Scribes and artists were next, then the priests and priestesses. A long sigh escaped hundreds of lips as the ruler appeared, regal in her magnificent costume. Her impossibly tall headdress of woven bands, feathers and ceramic effigies was removed after she took the throne, replaced by a simpler though still ornate headdress of rulership. Behind her came members of the royal family and household.
Among this group was Mas B’atz, a dwarf no taller than waist level, with thick stubby arms and legs, a lugubrious rolling gait and massive head that seemed neckless. His features were a parody of Maya ideals, with round bulging eyes, wide pug nose and puckered lips over a receding chin. To compound these oddities, he had a small hunchback on the right side. It was the custom of Maya rulers to keep dwarfs in their courts, or unusual attendants such as eunuchs, foreigners and criminals. These often were from lower classes, recruited to courtly service to enhance the power and authority of the ruler in several ways. Because of the contrast between deformed people and noble elegance, their presence marked the court as liminal space that transcends and detaches from ordinary society. This symbolized the ruler’s duality as both the center of society yet outside of it, representing both societal union and distant divine otherworlds. Dwarfs were believed to freely access the Underworld and mediate death transitions. They were often assigned to lay out corpses and burial goods, going through tomb doors too small for normal-sized people. Maya art depicted dwarfs accompanying the maize god; the dwarf personified the stunted second ear common to maize plants while the god expressed the full ripened ear.
Such confidants, who posed no threat to the ruler’s power and succession, were permitted a level of honesty not possible with potentially competing nobles. These court attendants could express views not colored by future family ambitions, fear of property loss or status dispossession. Such exotic and unsettling attendants wrapped a veil of mystery around royal court activities, adding to its liminal quality as a zone between realities.
Thus the court, with its contrast between esthetics of high culture and deformed, marginal attendants, was exotic and foreign to the rest of society.
Yohl Ik’nal sat cross-legged on the wide throne with the scribe to her left. As he set up his bark-paper book, brushes and pots with paint, her attendants changed the headdresses and placed cushions at her back. Behind the scribe stood the royal guard, arms crossed on their chests. Jars with fruit juices were set beside the throne. A serving woman crouched beside them, holding exquisitely painted ceramic cups. Members of the royal retinue found places in the adjoining room to the left, sitting on mats or standing for better views. Mas B’atz the dwarf sat conspicuously in front of the throne, glaring at any who approached.
The Ah Pop K’am Nah, Keeper of the Reception House Mat, took his position at the right interior door to allow visitors entrance into the throne room in order of importance. Bulux Max was an imposing figure, broad-shouldered and muscular with a barrel chest. In his pivotal role of dispensing privilege through the sequence of access to the ruler, his stern face and piercing eyes commanded obedience. Most striking was his voice, deep and sonorous, resonating through the open court building and across the plaza. As a royal steward he collected tribute and managed positioning of ahauob according to the ruler’s wishes.
High-ranking ahauob, sahals and city leaders crammed into the antechamber. They jockeyed for position to catch the steward’s eye and receive the honor of being among the first group admitted. With a subtle finger flick, Yohl Ik’nal signaled the steward to admit the first chosen. In his sonorous voice he called forth by name the sahals of Popo’, Yokib, Usihwitz and Sak Tz’i, along with the ruler’s closest courtiers and the most prominent merchants and village headmen. In all, ten men entered the throne room, sitting in two parallel lines according to order called. Each carried symbolic tribute, cradled in their laps until ready for offering. Later attendants would carry the complete tribute, consisting of multiple large bundles and baskets, to the tribute hall for tallying.
Again the Ah Pop K’am Nah’s deep voice carried through the antechambers and into the plaza below, now filled with lesser nobles and commoners craning necks for a better view of the throne room.
“The K’uhul Ahau of B’aakal would first speak. Listen well, oh people of B’aakal, to the words of your ruler. Now all hear the K’uhul Ahau!”
Yohl Ik’nal turned her body slightly to face the plaza, lengthening spine and extending neck to full seated height. Red, yellow and blue feathers swayed from her headdress; copper and jade jewelry caught and reflected sunlight. Her voice was clear and melodic, carrying easily across the plaza.
“It is time to build.
It is time to create.
To expand the beauty of Lakam Ha.
Beneath the Lords of the Night Sky,
&
nbsp; Before the Lords of the Waters.
Measuring, squaring in the sacred shapes,
Modeling, forming in the sacred proportions.
The fourfold siding, fourfold cornering, measuring, staking,
Halving the cord, stretching the cord in the sky, on the earth,
The four sides, four corners, as it is said, by the Maker, Modeler,
Mother and Father of life, of humankind.
Giver of Breath, Giver of Heart, who gave birth to the Triad Deities,
To those begotten and born of the light,
Ancestors of B’aakal, begetters of the k’uhul ahauob,
Knowers of everything in the sky-earth, river-sea.
Thus do they speak:
It is time to build, time to create,
Temple mountains reaching the sky,
Temple caves plunging into the underworld,
Vast plazas shining in the Light of Ahau K’in, Lord Sun.
Places to speak their names, count their days, praise their work and design.
So it is said, so it is done.”
The way one spoke was as important as the words one said. The words themselves were infused with itz, life force energy, the essence of divinity, the sacred current that permeated—that was—all things. To honor this sacred life force, words were arranged in a way that was beautiful, that graced the ears of listeners, mortal and divine. The cadences and rhythms of these orations created a poetic language unique to Classic Maya courtly expression.
Yohl Ik’nal had spoken well, and murmurs of approval rippled through the plaza. The commoners were delighted; more glorious temples and buildings, more spectacles to initiate them, more feasts and drinking to celebrate their completion. The ahauob and sahals and merchants and traders made quick calculations of how much could they profit weighed against how much they would be required to contribute in labor and building materials. For a large group of laborers living in modest thatched huts clustered between the Tun Pitz and Ixha rivers, it meant increased hard work mitigated by substantial food and gifts. Builders, water-workers and carvers fairly leapt with joy over the untold opportunities to express their crafts.
Mas B’atz stood, bowed deeply clasping one shoulder, and danced a jig in place while hand signing his approval. The faintest trace of a smile curled the ruler’s lips as her eyes slid toward the dwarf, without moving her head the least. In the fleeting moment of their eye contact, his communicated “good decision.” Both knew, though it had not been spoken between them, that this building program was the perfect scenario for a powerful katun end ceremony when the current 20-year cycle completed on Baktun 9, Katun 8, Tun 0, Uinal 0, Kin 0 (593 CE). Seven solar years remained to accomplish the ambitious planning and construction that she envisioned.
Settling into protocol position for receiving offerings, Yohl Ik’nal twisted her body to the right side and placed her right elbow on right hip, hand extended with palm upward.
The first ahauob in line was Cauac Ahk, Sahal of Yokib. Now an elderly man, he stood straight and moved with agility. His wrinkled skin and sunken features could not detract from the vital energy that still permeated his form. Here was a ruler very much in charge, who had outlived his two older children. His youngest son would succeed as a middle-aged man—unless the ruler lived amazingly longer and the rulership passed to a grandson.
When Bulux Max signaled to begin the tribute offering, Cauac Ahk scooted forward nimbly and extended a large reed basket filled with yellow and white pom. This was his symbolic offering of copal resin, highly valued for incense. It demonstrated the value of his tribute, which he would report as soon as the ruler asked for it.
“Honored Lord of Yokib, we are graced by your visit,” Yohl Ik’nal said solemnly. “What tribute have you brought for the K’uhul Ahau, for the Sacred City of Lakam Ha?”
“Holy Lady, the city of Yokib offers ten measures of dried corn, 8 measures dried beans, 6 bolts of cotton cloth, 20 baskets of tubers, squash, and nuts. We provide in addition 3 baskets dried fruit, 3 baskets palm nuts, 3 baskets tobacco, 3 baskets of gourd cups and 3 baskets cacao pods. Fine jewelry from the hands of leading Yokib artisans is wrapped in soft white cloth to adorn the royal family and ahauob. May these gifts receive approval of the Triad Deities and please you, Holy Lady.”
“Thus is the Holy Lady pleased, Honored Lord of Yokib. In the person of the Triad Deities, she who is their earthly personification receives and approves these offerings.” The ruler replied using court protocol. The scribe behind her carefully recorded each offering, type and amount.
Following the formal tribute dialogue, after the symbolic offering was placed in the basket, came opportunity for additional interaction. This highly public and closely observed process was meant for displays of power and status. Rulers could bestow favor or disapproval, embarrass or intimidate, put the visitor on the spot, or simply establish a congenial contact. The visitor likewise had a moment of public exposure with the highest authority of the polity, and could use it to advantage – be it cooperation or subterfuge.
“Immense is our pleasure to have your presence in the Royal Court of Lakam Ha, Sahal Cauac Ahk,” Yohl Ik’nal said warmly. “My heart is glad to see you well and healthy, gods grant you many more such years. How fares it with your son and grandchildren? Did they accompany you to Lakam Ha?”
“So it is, Holy Lady, that my family now enjoys the grand hospitality of the Royal Court of Lakam Ha. For the youngest ones it is like a visit to the Upperworld, climbing the high mountain to arrive at a city in the sky, peaks wrapped in clouds and waters cascading over boulders, casting mists across the paths. They are enthralled, as indeed are we all to be in the Sacred Presence of the K’uhul Ahau of B’aakal.” Hearing Cauac Akh’s strong voice, one would never imagine his advanced age.
“Tell me of happenings in your city,” the ruler continued. “Is not a new ceremonial complex being built? It is apparent your first harvest was abundant, I trust the second will also be good.”
“Indeed it is as you say. Waters flow to irrigate fields, rich soil is deposited as the rivers recede and our farmers follow time-honored techniques to preserve fertility. Of the new ceremonial center, work progresses well and we expect completion in another two years. Heard the Holy Lady of the new ceramic process our artisans now use? It produces a marvelous glaze of melon shade and holds paintings securely.”
Congenial exchange continued as Cauac Ahk related other details of life in Yokib. The two rulers reminisced about previous occasions together, expressing respect for Kan Bahlam, Yohl Ik’nal’s father now a Sacred Ancestor in the Upperworld. Neither ruler appeared to be pursuing an agenda, so courtiers relaxed and enjoyed the display of congeniality. Such demonstrations reinforced the social order and reassured the people that the ruling ahauob were satisfying the deities. Thus was fulfilled the social-spiritual contract between Maya rulers and their people.
In ending their interchange, Yohl Ik’nal extended a special sign of favor to Cauac Ahk by inviting his family to a private dinner with the royal family. Murmurs of approval welled from the crowd as the aged sahal gracefully accepted. Upon a hand sign from the K’uhul Ahau, the steward Bulux Max offered his arm to the Yokib ruler and assisted him to rise. This gesture would occur with every visitor as part of court protocol, but the elderly man was especially appreciative. The steward guided the Yokib Sahal to the stairs leading down from the throne room, where attendants and family waited.
Bulux Max signaled the next sahal in line to begin tribute.
Chak B’olon Chaak, young sahal of Popo’ scooted forward and extended a large clay vase filled with cacao pods. This was his symbolic offering of precious cacao, representing the value of his tribute. He waited for the ruler to begin.
“Honored Lord of Popo’, we are graced by your visit,” Yohl Ik’nal intoned. “What tribute have you brought for the K’uhul Ahau, for the Sacred City of Lakam Ha?”
Her eyes carefully surveyed the smooth youthful face. His forehead sl
oped steeply upward from large nose in the straight profile so admired by Maya elite. On his elongated skull perched an elaborate headdress. Strong jaw and chin offset wide sculpted lips. Almond eyes above high cheekbones conveyed calm confidence although he was several years younger than she. Liking what she saw, the ruler’s eyes alone conveyed approval.
“Holy Lady, the city of Popo’ offers ten measures of dried corn, 5 measures dried beans and chiles each, 3 bundles of woven rugs, 3 bundles of cured skins, 20 baskets of tubers, fruits, squash, root vegetables and nuts. In the offering are 5 baskets of gourds, 2 baskets black pom – most rare copal, 2 baskets of conch shells and 3 baskets cacao pods. We offer a bundle of long blue quetzal and multicolored feathers, and a bundle of obsidian. From our deep forests come five jugs full of kik, gummy sap of the rubber tree, ready for mixing with morning glory juice to make adhesives and rubber products. From our skilled artisans are 2 baskets of fine ceramics and jade jewelry. May these gifts receive approval of the Triad Deities and please you, Holy Lady.”
“Thus is the Holy Lady pleased, Honored Lord of Popo’. In the person of the Triad Deities, she who is their earthly personification receives and approves these offerings.” The scribe behind Yohl Ik’nal nodded approvingly as he recorded these offerings.
The young sahal looked expectantly at Yohl Ik’nal, a hint of eagerness in his expression despite his resolve to remain unruffled. His tribute had been generous.
“Of the Sahal of Popo’ it is said, he rules the city justly and wisely,” Yohl Ik’nal continued, her hand gesture signifying respect. “Numerous are the voices that speak thusly, that praise the governance of the city of Popo’ by the young ruler. Lands for agriculture and orchards are well managed; these lands produce abundantly and are prudently farmed for future productivity. New water works benefit the crops and city water supply. Artisans of the city practice their trades successfully and prosper, the people are satisfied, the gods are satisfied. It is in this way that the ruling ahauob fulfill their divine destiny, enact their rightful obligation, sacred and ancient, as emissaries of the gods on earth.”