She hesitated, struggling to gain composure, waiting for a pause in Aj Ne’s recitation. Mesmerized by his own creation, Aj Ne waxed eloquent with hardly time for a breath, his eyes lifted toward some phantom image, his right hand gesturing gracefully. Finally she could bear it no more. Casting aside decorum, she strode into the room and stood defiantly in front of her brother.
“Aj Ne Ohl Mat! May I have your attention!”
Startled, his voice sputtered and died out. He gazed quizzically at his sister, as though not recognizing her. Everyone present gasped. Shaking his head in perplexity, Aj Ne found enough voice to mumble:
“Sak K’uk? Wh . . what are you doing?”
“Clearly I am requesting to speak with you.” Her voice rasped with irritation.
“But I am reciting,” he complained in aggrieved tones. Waving his hand to include the courtiers, he continued. “We are in audience, and I am sharing my new poetry. Why do you interrupt us?”
“This is no time for poetry!” she said forcefully. “There are important things that I must discuss with you. Very important, but for your ears only. I must speak with you alone.”
“Things that could not wait? Why so urgent? Disturbed I am by this uncalled-for interruption.”
“Very urgent, Aj Ne. But for now, I can only speak with you about them. Please ask your courtiers to leave.”
Brother and sister locked eyes. Often she had stared him down before, the very power of her will overcoming his timid nature. This was no exception. He broke the gaze first, sighed and requested his friends to leave. He entreated them to return after their noon meal, and the poetry readings would continue.
When all the courtiers were some distance from the open doorway, Sak K’uk made another demand of her brother.
“It is necessary that Hohmay leave also. What I have to say is a matter of state that I can only speak of with you. Please ask her to leave.”
“What! Hohmay is my wife, we share everything.”
“So you may share with her later as you see fit,” snapped Sak K’uk. “But for now, I can only speak with you.”
Aj Ne heaved another great sigh, his shoulders lifting and falling dramatically. His gesture clearly expressed “what can one do with such a sister?” Reluctantly he conceded.
“Dearest, do indulge my sister this strange request, and please overlook her rudeness.”
To which Sak K’uk bit her tongue. Hohmay bowed obediently, smiled sweetly toward Sak K’uk and left.
Once they were alone, Aj Ne folded his arms over his chest, stretched his long thin neck to its limit and peered imperiously at his sister down his narrow arched nose. Again she noticed how his large head appeared to teeter on its thin stalk. That plus his prominent beaked nose made him look for all the world like a puffed-up crane.
“So? What is so urgent and important that you disband my poetry session and dismiss my wife like a servant?”
“Our city is in grave danger,” she replied in a low voice. “An attack is being planned by a group of enemies, some from here but most from another city – I do not speak names now for security reasons.”
“Where did you hear this? Perhaps its just rumors.” He waved a hand dismissively.
“Where were you this morning? Why were you not at the council our mother called?” she retorted.
“Oh, that. Mother’s councils are so boring, always dealing with some problem or concern and taking much too long. And I had my poetry session already scheduled. That is much more to my liking than councils.”
“This was a very important council, did not the messengers inform you? Mother and I made report of our vision quests, and these deal with our city’s future welfare!” Sak K’uk was dumbfounded, unable to comprehend her brother’s cavalier attitude.
“It is certain that Mother and Father can handle our city’s welfare themselves – or perhaps even better with your sage advice,” he noted sarcastically.
“Aj Ne! Some day you will need to take responsibility for Lakam Ha, when you become ruler. Does not this concern you? There is much to learn, you need experience . . training . . “ Her voice trailed off as the thought arose that it might be she, not her brother, who became ruler.
“Perhaps so, but Mother has not yet ordered the hoof-binding ceremony to designate an heir.” As if reading her thoughts, he said: “She might choose you. She has always favored you, and you certainly attend enough councils. Even if she designated me, we have a hoard of experienced ahauob and advisors to keep managing the city’s affairs.”
“You are hopeless. The Bahlam blood in your body is feeble.” Sak K’uk could not conceal her contempt. “Just keep this in mind. Our city will be attacked sometime soon. There is internal treachery. You must not speak of this to others – even your precious fool Hohmay. Mother and her advisors are developing a plan to protect us. If you want to know more, you must speak to her. Deities forbid that you would care to do anything.”
Tossing her head, Sak K’uk spun on her toes and marched out of her brother’s chambers.
Yaxun Zul waited nervously in his audience chamber for Hun Pakal to arrive. He was doubly worried about the visit; the request came suddenly from the K’uhul Ahau’s consort and was characterized as both urgent and extremely important. What did the ruling family want of him? He was certain that this came not from Hun Pakal alone, but originated with the ruler. Might they have discovered his role in the attack plot? The very thought gave him chills, for he knew well how traitors were dealt with and it was not an easy death. Over and over he reviewed what the visit might mean: more tribute, sending his workers for building projects, confiscating his lands for food production, usurping his trade partners, or worse case, confronting him about the traitorous plot for a raid on Lakam Ha.
But if the latter were the case, why not simply send warriors to seize and imprison him? The worst was not knowing and having to wait. The wealthy ahau was not accustomed to such worry, and it discomforted him greatly.
A flood of relief washed through Yaxun Zul when his steward announced the arrival of Hun Pakal, but it was immediately followed by intense anxiety. His palms were sweaty as he clasped his shoulder and bowed to the ruler’s consort, gesturing to the adjoining mat. Hun Pakal bowed appropriately – not too deeply nor too shallowly – and nimbly settled onto his mat. Yaxun Zul made certain the two mats were at the same level on the floor of his audience chamber, declining to take his usual seat on the elevated platform. This was no time for holding court or elevating himself above the ruling family.
Immediately attendants served cups of atole mixed with cacao, and brought maize cakes made with nuts and dried fruits. After an exchange of pleasantries and inquiries into the wellbeing of each other’s families, Hun Pakal asked how trade was going.
Keeping a bland expression, Yaxun Zul’s mind spun wild fears that the ruler was planning to take over his trade routes and partners. His voice remained calm though he was quaking inside.
“Trade goes quite well. Recently my northern route traders brought some excellent obsidian from the central mountains, the finest I have seen of late. Might you be interested in new blades? There also is chert for spearheads, good quality and strong. And I received a small amount of exquisite jade of deep forest green color. Perhaps the K’uhul Ahau desires jade for jewelry? Of course to the royal family these would be an excellent value. . .”
His voice trailed off as he worried that he should have offered obsidian and jade as gifts. Now his mouth felt very dry, and he quickly sipped the atole-cacao drink.
Hun Pakal merely commented that they might be interested in seeing these objects, though not immediately. The conversation lapsed. Hun Pakal appeared deep in thought, while Yaxun Zul sweated more profusely. He waved for attendants to fan him with a large reed fan topped with feathers, and waited.
After what seemed an eternity to Yuxun Zul, his guest looked up and their eyes met.
“What it is, that I have come to speak about, is most important. It has great sig
nificance for the K’uhul Ahau and myself, and for all people of our polity. Upon our decisions now will rest the future of Lakam Ha.” Hun Pakal’s face was serious and his voice carefully modulated to avoid emotions.
Yaxun Zul nodded, his hand gripping the cup tensely.
“I have come to speak with you about a union between your son, Kan Mo Hix, and our daughter Sak K’uk.”
Automatically Yaxun Zul lifted the cup to his lips and sipped, then almost choked on his drink. Suppressing a strong desire to cough, he sipped again more carefully.
“Kan Mo Hix and Sak K’uk?” He was aggrieved that he could think of nothing better to say, but his mind was blank.
“Just so. Yohl Ik’nal and I have been thinking much of the correct match for our daughter. This is especially crucial as our son Aj Ne Ohl Mat has no children although married for over four tuns. It is possible the succession will be through children of Sak K’uk. We desire a broad basis of support for her children, and forming a union with your family will accomplish that. You are a greatly respected leader in Lakam Ha, have a wide circle of courtiers, many alliances within and outside our polity, and your lineage descends from our founder, Kuk Bahlam. Yours is a family of initiative and resources. Such a union would serve us both well, I believe.”
Yaxun Zul’s mind was racing, now in an entirely different direction. Marriage with the royal family! All his scheming to expand his power, to move his family closer to rulership, was co-opted by this amazing proposal. Hun Pakal was laying in his lap the very goal of his machinations, without his needing to risk his life or fortune, or even lift his hand! Except to signal agreement. Which immediately he did.
“Immense is my honor, Lord Hun Pakal. Such a union offered by the royal family is more than I could have imagined. You will forgive me if I appear surprised, indeed I did not anticipate such an event. Of course, I completely agree with you, this will be most advantageous to both our families. My son Kan Mo Hix will be honored, of this I am certain, with this great privilege and delighted to become husband of your most able and charming daughter.”
He bowed while clasping both shoulders, the sign of ultimate respect and honor.
Hun Pakal smiled sardonically, adding:
“Kan Mo Hix is a young man of strong personality, and such a man is necessary for Sak K’uk. They will be a good match.” He surprised himself with this spontaneous comment, realizing that he actually did mean it. Perhaps Yohl Ik’nal’s idea was the ideal choice in any case.
“It is best that we proceed with this marriage without delay,” he continued. “There has been some unrest within our polity, and the union of our families will do much to quell those ahauob who have become disgruntled with our dynasty. You are no doubt aware of these stirrings, for you are well-connected and have many information sources.”
Yaxun Zul swallowed, his throat dry again. How much did Hun Pakal know? And if he knew, what motivated this move? New concerns rushed into his mind: how to disengage from the planned attack and keep himself removed from further plotting. Confusion filled him as he struggled to remain calm.
“That is so,” he said, further confounded by which “that” he was referencing. “The marriage arrangements shall proceed at once. This day will I speak to Kan Mo Hix and secure his agreement. Of which I am certain that he will be in accord.”
“We will prepare the bride gifts with all due speed,” replied Hun Pakal. “These will be most rich in keeping with the status of our royal daughter. Your family will see how great is the benefit of this royal alliance.”
Even in his distracted state, Yaxun Zul did not miss the irony. Here was Hun Pakal offering him gifts, wealth and power while he had been worrying about losing both his fortune and his life. Was that a taunting glint in Hun Pakal’s eye? If so, he was enjoying the game.
“So it is accomplished,” Hun Pakal concluded. “We shall expect to receive you and your son tomorrow morning at the palace. Then the final agreements and plans for the marriage will be decided between our families. For our K’uhul Ahau, I express appreciation at your concordance with these proposals.”
The ruler’s consort rose to his feet, quickly followed by Yaxun Zul. Exchanging bows, the men’s eyes met once again. Hun Pakal smiled briefly, then turned and was ushered out by the steward.
Yaxun Zul dropped heavily onto the nearest stone bench. Conflicting emotions and clashing thoughts raced through him. Could he abort the attack? No, the plans were already in motion, the time chosen, the strategies mapped. Should he tell his followers that he was withdrawing his support? They would surmise as much when the marriage was announced. How could he handle the consequences if anyone revealed his involvement? To this he had no answer. Even though the group had decided to keep out of direct action, some of the younger men were hotheaded and might join the battle, especially Kab’ol, the brother of Ek Chuuah. Any captives could expose the plot and implicate him as ringleader. By all the deities, what could he do?
He could deny everything. That is what he would do. Even as part of his mind doubted its effectiveness, simply having a plan comforted him. For now, he had many things to accomplish. Drawing a deep breath and straightening, he barked to the steward:
“Summon Kan Mo Hix to me immediately. Prepare a list of updated assets. Bring the finest weaver and headdress maker here tomorrow afternoon; new clothing must be made. Speak not of this to the household until after the meeting with the royal family tomorrow, and so instruct all present. Many large changes are afoot.”
5
The rains of the uinal Uo, month of the ground frog, were gradually decreasing. Uo ushered in spring, awoke the frogs from their winter sleep, nudged plants to send up new shoots. Low-lying land between mountain ridges was swampy. The rivers coursing through Lakam Ha flowed rapidly, swollen by rains and crashing loudly down cascades. Across the broad north plains, the K’umaxha River spread from its banks and deposited rich silt on farmlands. The river channel ran deep and swift, treacherous to navigate. Soon, however, the drier season would begin with its humid sunshine, blossoming flowers and easier travel.
In her reasoning mind, Yohl Ik’nal took these seasonal characteristics into consideration and surmised that the attack on Lakam Ha would occur after the rains of Uo. Try as she might, she received no further guidance from dreams or visions. Frustrated, she consulted her calendar priests, the Ah Kins about calendar auguries in the next few months. Taking the most advanced priests into her confidence about the planned attack, she requested their interpretations. Each kin sign, uinal sign and their numeric coefficient produced different combinations fraught with meaning. To that was added the moon phase and lunation sequence, ruled by one of nine Lords of the Night. It was such a complex set of calendrics that the Ah Kins had to study many tuns before attaining mastery that enabled them to make predictions.
The priests informed her that Uo, the Frog was characterized by magic and emergence, calling forth patience, serenity and understanding. It was most unlikely that aggressive or violent events would occur then. The next uinal, Zip, the Red Conjunction, honored the god of hunting and called forth bloodletting ceremonies. It augured ripeness, availability and completeness. This seemed to them a more likely time for the attack. Unless, of course, the enemy awaited the next uinal, Zotz, the Bat, associated with vision in darkness, intuition and clairvoyance. If they planned to attack at night, this would be a good uinal.
All of which Yohl Ik’nal found exceptionally unhelpful. With so many possibilities in each 20-day uinal, narrowing the time was impossible. One thing the priests said was significant, however: The day-sign Kimi held serious portent. Kimi meant “death” and was associated with the owl. The day of Kimi was a time for something to finish, change, remove or disappear. Its traits could be violent and vengeful, although also strong, tenacious and skillful.
She reflected much upon calendric meanings, her mind only partly focused on the numerous activities required for planning the marriage of Sak K’uk and Kan Mo Hix. The date and
time for this momentous ceremony was set by the Ah Kins, who chose the month Mol, still five uinals away. Mol supported leadership and control, was a time for uniting and group activities. The chosen day sign, Lamat, had strong associations with success, good fortune, fertility, harmony and cultivation of the earth – things expected of a royal couple.
Amid the hubbub, a premonition arose on the fringes of Yohl Ik’nal’s awareness that the attack would take place on the day of Kimi. There were twenty day signs that made up the Maya month, with 18 of these 20-day months in a 360-day tun. Since the solar year lasted 365 days, they added a short 19th month of five days at the end, called Uayeb. These five “days out of time” could be unpredictable and dangerous; usual activities were curtailed and no significant business conducted or decisions made then.
Another factor was the numeric coefficient of each day sign. Numbers also held important meanings and gave qualities to the day. The sacred Tzolk’in calendar used to plan ceremonies had 13 numbers; these flowed in continuous sequence through the solar and agricultural Ha’ab calendar with its day and month signs. Therefore the combination of number, day and month signs continued for 18,980 days (52 solar years) before returning to the original configuration. Within these 52 years, each configuration was unique.
As Yohl Ik’nal reflected on the day of Kimi, she calculated that it would occur three times in the near future, once in each month of Uo, Zip and Zotz. Some other clue was needed to help her determine which Kimi occurrence was the crucial one. Ever alert to messages from nature as well as the cosmos, she began to notice a recurring theme of four: When walking through an orchard, she saw four doves fly together from the underbrush. A chik-coatimundi mother crossed her path with four babies trailing behind. Four ripe figs were placed before her as an afternoon snack. One evening a grouping of four stars hung above the horizon, the brightest she recognized as Noh Ek-Venus, often associated with warfare.
That was the date: 4 Kimi, the 19th day of Uo. It was only four days away.
The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque Page 26