The Mayan Priest (37 page)

Read The Mayan Priest Online

Authors: Sue Guillou

BOOK: The Mayan Priest
10.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Take some life blood … and join it with yours.’

I audibly gasped.

The King had requested that I take some of his blood and mix it with some of my own. It was an unprecedented request that would link me eternally with him and ensure I was a part of his family in the same manner as his own children.

I did as he bid and sampled the blood with my tongue before he gestured to me, the effort of which caused him to collapse back into his jaguar skins and sweat profusely.

‘I have always loved you like a son and now you are part of me,’ he wheezed with the exertion of speech but was not put off by his weakness. The King continued, ‘I was wrong, Kaloomte B’alam is not a good man. He commands the army, but that is not enough for him and he now wants to lead Tikal. He has also placed his men in my palace and I am convinced that he has poisoned my food, but I am helpless to stop him. My end is near, my dear Kinix, and I have only you to confide in.’

‘What about Lady K’in,’ I stuttered, barely able to command my voice.

‘She is already influenced by Kaloomte B’alam. I may be unable to move, but I am not deaf. I hear the whispers between the guards and know that they share a bed. She is not loyal to me, Kinix, which is why I need you.’ Bahlum rested a moment as I pressed some water into his mouth and waited for him to compose himself.

‘Now that you are my son, you must promise to ensure that Kaloomte’s blood never resides over my people. My heir is Lady Tikal and I have no doubt that Kaloomte B’alam will obtain the right to marry her when she is of age. I do not think that he will do anything to her until then, but then I fear that he will have a child with her and forever infuse his blood with the gods. I do not wish to share my next life with him,’ Bahlum Paw Skull gasped and collapsed back into the soft pelt. His face had the familiar look of a man brushing with his passing and I had the sudden sensation of foreboding. It was now my task to ensure that Lady Tikal fell in love with a man other than Kaloomte B’alam. I feared this was not going to be an easy undertaking, but I was now Bahlum Paw Skull’s son and had no option but to do my father‘s bidding.

‘Grab the box under the bed,’ ordered Bahlum as I scrambled to comply.

The box was a shade of wood I had never seen before and I admit to momentarily standing in awe as the glorious red shimmered in the moonlight that filtered through the window. I quickly reached for it, noting that the small size belied the weight it held. It was heavier that I had anticipated, but I lifted it with ease and placed the highly polished and skilfully carved object on the bed in front of the King.

Bahlum looked at me stupidly. ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’

I did not wish to seem unintelligent, but I could not find the opening and fervently hoped the King would take charge. To my dismay, he realised my stupidity and actually began to smile.

‘The secret to this box is to see what isn’t there.’

I cringed. He was talking in riddles to confuse me.

‘Look closely, my boy. This box was crafted by my forefathers and the secret of it has been passed down through the royal family for as long as there are records. We use it to keep our private goods safe from prying eyes.’

I gazed at the outside panels for what seemed like an eternity until my eyes fell on a slight irregularity. It was like the faintest silvery strand of a spider web wrapped just below the edge of the upper surface. Using my sharpest fingernail, I ran it along the line, surprised to discover that the lid lifted quite easily. I removed the lid with the care deserving of a piece of craftsmanship made to a standard I had never witnessed before, only to discover that a second box lay inside. This one was unmistakably carved from obsidian, only this time there was a series of five octagonal spinning disks lined up together through the centre of the box. There was a long count figure engraved on each of the eight fascias of each disk. The first disk represented baktun, the second k’atun, the third was tun, the fourth winal, and fifth was k’in.

I looked at Bahlum Paw Skull quizzically.
‘It’s good, isn’t it’
‘Yes,’ I replied ’but what is it?’

‘Ahhh …’ mumbled Bahlum, his eyes lighting with enthusiasm for the first time. ‘If you want to open it, you first must know the correct combination of figures or you may never break the code. In this case I have used my birth date.’ Bahlum spun each disk until the figures of his birth date were aligned. A faint click was heard.

I was totally agape in awe of this amazing box and its creator. It was superbly clever and I could easily understand how hard it would be for someone to open it. The combination of figures was incalculable, making a chance opening as unlikely as a personal visit from the gods.

At the King’s bidding, I removed the lid to find a bed of jaguar pelt with a number of the King’s jewels laying on top. There was his jade and obsidian ring, a necklace with shells, a rare red stone and a small jade engraving of his likeness. My attention was drawn to the tiny obsidian container and lid sealed by tree sap.

‘It is my life’s flow,’ answered Bahlum Paw Skull before I even questioned him as to the contents.

I nodded, understanding the value of keeping such a priceless substance.

‘If you are unable to succeed in stopping Kaloomte B’alam from creating a child of his blood, you must infuse that child with this vial. The goodness of my life flow will override his and the child will become mine. But this is a last resort’

I lowered my eyes in acknowledgement as a rustle was heard just beyond the door.
‘Go, my son. Go with my blessing and that of our gods.’
I grabbed the box and raced for the secret exit, making the escape just before the guard entered the room.
It was also the last time I saw my King as his ch’ulel chose that evening to shed itself of its ailing earthly body.

 

***

 

The passing of a king is an event to be celebrated, but for the first time, I was unable to share in the joy. My mind was in conflict as it tried to counteract the sense of loss with the happiness I knew I should be experiencing, but somehow I felt burdened. The kin ahead was going to be challenging and I knew without a doubt that there were going to be problems.

Lady K’in had been given the role of guardian until Lady Tikal could reach the status of ahaw at six cycles of the haab. This allowed further opportunity for Kaloomte B’alam who revelled in the added power this brought.

The burgeoning army and people of our great city gradually took to following Kaloomte’s lead and I soon felt the tide of the faithful move in his favour. Yok Chac as usual took the more sensible approach and entwined himself in this new society by ensuring he stayed in favour with royal family. To his credit, he dragged me along with his activities and I discovered the fruits of his endeavours allowed me continual access to Lady Tikal. It was only in my later years that I realised what a debt of gratitude I owed to my friend who forced me to keep focus of the path that I had to follow.

Yok Chac would always tell me: ‘The truth lies in your heart. Use whatever means you have to follow that truth’.

The ensuing cycles of the haab passed quickly. Lady Tikal became queen, but she was merely a figurehead in favour of her mother who took the rule until she passed to the gods six haab cycles later from an undiagnosed illness. She had named Kaloomte B’alam as her co-successor, a decision that greatly angered her daughter.

Although a gentle and beautiful child, Lady Tikal was also strong of body and spirit. Her strange, blue, almond eyes shone brightly and her long black hair grew thicker with age. She was slim but curvaceous and had an affinity with children and animals. Her way was an eagle and she was as fierce and determined as the legendary birds in everything she did.

We spent much time together and it was I who would walk with her through my place of peace and reflection – my glorious gardens. I would listen to her hopes and dreams and hold her hand when she needed someone to confide in. It was I who was there to explain what it meant to become a woman and how to cope with the release of the blood every cycle of the tun-uc and it was I who listened to her feelings about her mother and Kaloomte B’alam.

Early in life, Lady Tikal had desired love and nurturing from her mother, but it had remained largely unrequited. Her mother had fallen foul of her high status and easily passed the care of her daughter to those who served her. As a result, their relationship always carried the unfamiliar politeness reserved for neighbours or two people passing in the street. Neither really knew each other and Lady K’in made no effort to change it. If she had known her daughter better, she would have realised that she was quite capable of running this great city herself.

Angry at being overlooked, Lady Tikal did not want to attend her mother’s funeral.

‘This is a mistake. The people need to see you, to know that you have taken over in your mother’s stead.’

‘I have been queen for six cycles of the haab, yet I have never attended a ceremony, funeral or anything of concern. I have been totally unseen in favour of that man for my entire life. I see no reason, nor do I care to show her my respect.’

‘Butterfly (my childhood nickname for Lady Tikal), it’s not about showing respect to your mother, it’s about letting the people know that you are their queen. That you count just as much as him.’

‘I wouldn’t even know what to do.’

‘Yes, you do. I have spent my entire life grooming you for such a moment.’

‘Yes, you have. You have always been there for me,’ she said as she batted those large eyes at me with an innocence of a doe. I sighed inwardly. She was only twelve cycles of the haab but was already learning how to use her female attributes.

The following period until the sun rose into the centre of the sky was taken up in preparation for the great event. Food was supplied in vast quantities, dancers and entertainers were in abundance as was the amount of pulque drunk by the population. The atmosphere was of excitement and pleasure as the celebrations offered a break from the usual daily routine and time to intermingle with friends and family.

The weather was warm and sticky although the brisk breeze assisted in keeping the sea of noisy people from becoming too hot. They spread as far as the eye could see, an abundance of colour, size and age, all determined to take as much advantage of the festivities as possible. They were loud, excited and having fun, becoming silent only when Yok Chac amplified his voice by calling through the hollows inside the tower.

The fervour ceased, but a ripple of awe filtered through the crowd as Kaloomte B’alam was the first to arrive at the temple peak. The people fell to their knees in respect, quickly learning that Kaloomte chose not to perform the standard ritual of sacrifice but instead opting for the more important ‘birth of a new era’.

Suspense could be felt as high upon the platform of the great tower, Kaloomte B’alam placed his manhood into his hands and inserted the needle of the stingray. His blood fell readily onto a cloth which was burnt as a symbol of his life blood spreading to the home of the gods. The crowd cheered as Lady Tikal also climbed the stairs. Despite not being of the age to marry, she too was required to perform the same ceremony but was allowed the cover of a shield to protect her childhood. Whilst her cheer was not as loud, it was at least given with a resemblance of respect. It was a start and I was satisfied that the people of our great city may learn to accept her in time.

Once the ceremony was completed, the body of Lady K’in was removed to the sacred cave of our people and buried beside Bahlum Paw Skull.

In passing I placed fresh wheat and a young jaguar pelt on the coffin of my one true king and father.

‘I have not forgotten your request,’ I whispered as I passed my soft words, heard only by Yok Chac who lowered his head in respect.

Two cycles of the haab had passed before my Butterfly came to me with fear in her eyes. At my urging, she had continued on her path of recognition and slowly the people came to acknowledge her. I easily recalled the time the first citizens bowed to her in respect as she passed. She was so excited that she ran to find me like a child discovering the wonder of its surroundings. Today she also ran to me but not in joy.

‘What has happened?’ I asked as Lady Tikal handed me a cloth she had been carrying in her hands. On it was the stain of blood.
‘Did you hurt yourself?’ I questioned with concern.
She shook her and pointed between her legs. I grinned in amusement but inside, my stomach felt as if it had been punched.
‘You have become a woman just as I explained to you.’
‘Am I to have the ceremony?’

I nodded. All children were required to show their reverence to the gods and thank them for allowing them to pass safely into adulthood. It was the end of one life and the beginning of another.’

My Butterfly looked as if she was withered and died as we both knew what this moment meant. She would soon be ready to marry and undoubtedly Kaloomte B’alam would waste no time in claiming his prize.

It was now time for me to hold true the promise I had made to my King.

 

***

 

I had been planning this for so long that I knew each and every step backwards, but still I scoured the details for fear that I may forget something.

Yok Chac patted me on the shoulder in understanding. ‘My dear friend, I understand that what you are about to do will burden you for the rest of your life, but you are bound by the blood of the king and your word.’

‘If only she had shown interest in other boys, then I may have been able to use my power to insist on a marriage between her and another,’ said Kinix.

‘You kept her too occupied with all of your study,’ laughed Yok Chac before taking on a more serious note. ‘It would not have mattered anyway. She has never shown any interest.’

Other books

The Society of Thirteen by Gareth P. Jones
Dirt Work by Christine Byl
Vanished Years by Rupert Everett
FriendlySeduction by Gillian Archer