The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque (13 page)

They caught each other’s eyes and smiled. Rulers seldom missed subtle cues about their peoples’ intentions; this was key to their ability to lead.

“Think you not?” she teased.

“Think I so,” he chuckled. “Hun Pakal may indeed be my choice.”

“That would please Yohl Ik’nal.”

“Ah.” Kan Bahlam realized he had not been aware of his daughter’s feelings toward the young man. It pleased him to think that her heart’s desire might be fulfilled as he accomplished what was needed for the dynasty. Everything depended on what happened tomorrow.

Misty tendrils undulated from the combat field as morning sun warmed the wet earth. Shallow puddles settled in depressions packed down by hours of stomping feet. Small clusters of grass hung weakly making a futile attempt to recover, while much of the field was bare ground. Although it was early, many observers were already placing mats in choice positions to obtain better views of the final day’s contests. This was the most exciting and dangerous day, the day of one-on-one combat armed with flint knives as long as a man’s forearm.

Fewer warriors participated in armed combat, this being reserved for the higher elite levels. Full regalia were customary, resplendent in design and color, rich in symbolism. Quilted cotton vests with colorful patterns protected the trunk, at times augmented by similar cotton jackets that hung to the knees. Pants or skirts covered the thighs, also quilted and patterned. Among the K’umaxha River polities, flexible shields made of thick woven mats were folded around the left forearm, used to block knife slashes. Some warriors preferred round wooden shields covered with deerskin, painted with lineage emblems or war deities and decorated with feathers. Sturdy sandals were bound with leather thongs about the ankles.

Headdresses were elaborate and significant. Most were shaped as stylized heads of the warrior’s uay, his spirit animal. Among rulers the jaguar was frequent, and shields bore depictions of the jaguar sun god, deity of war and the Underworld. Headdresses sporting various bird effigies were common, including hawks, eagles, cormorants, macaws, and parrots. Serpent headdresses were used by snake lineages, less often seen among the cities of B’aakal although some families bore the Kan name. The serpent, Kan was the uay of the ruling family of Ka’an polity.

Conches announced the arrival of contestants at the field. Multiple conches sounding together created discordant harmonics, fitting for the edginess settling over observers. Next came assorted drums in rapid cadence as warriors grouped on the field according to their city. Each group was led by the city’s ruling ahau or sahal.

Kan Bahlam, K’uhul B’aakal Ahau appeared on the field wearing the jaguar headdress that represented his primary lineage. A small K’awiil perched above the jaguar’s head, representing the patron god of rulers. A huge stream of feathers fanned back in a graceful arc, a shimmering iridescent rainbow of ocellated turkey and quetzal tail feathers. In front a smaller feather arc dangled above the forehead. Around the neck was a splendid collar of jade mingled with red, blue and golden beads. Cuffs of leather extended from wrists to elbow, borders adorned with copper and silver discs.

He wore cotton armor quilted with golden and blue threads, and a flared waist-collar of leather and metal discs. His wooden shield bore the face of the jaguar god of the underworld, a sun with closed eyes surrounded by white flower petals. Brilliant blue quetzal feathers alternated with those of the red macaw at four points around the shield.

The bobbing and swaying feather headdresses created a festive appearance. Sunlight glinted off metal and beads as the last wisps of mist disappeared. Conspicuously placed around the field periphery were teams of healers, priestesses and priests of Ix Chel, goddess of health and healing. They carried soft cloths for bandaging wounds, salves and powders of soothing herbs, unguents to stop bleeding, brews for relieving pain. Wounding was expected; the victor in each contest was the warrior who drew first significant blood. Tiny nicks frequently occurred, but to win the cut must be large enough to produce a flow of blood. Most commonly these cuts occurred on the neck, upper arms, thighs and lower legs. By long established protocol, the face was never a target in these ritual battles.

The contests between the four city rulers took place first, in the center of the field: Lakam Ha against Yokib, Popo’ against Usihwitz. It was agreed among these rulers that the defeated man need not serve in the victor’s city but would substitute another ahauob, or the service might be waived completely. This contest was primarily for prestige and to demonstrate prowess, and everyone took it most seriously.

Kan Bahlam of Lakam Ha and Cauac Ahk of Yokib were both middle-aged men, although muscular and vigorous. They cautiously circled, feinted and parried seeking advantage, as both were seasoned warriors. Quick strikes were deftly deflected by knife blade or shield. Rapid twists or leaps allowed them to escape slashes aimed at the lower legs. Cauac Ahk drew first blood with a prick on Kan Bahlam’s guard hand, but this was too small to count. The other pair of rulers followed similar maneuvers, at times slipping on wet ground.

The royal women of Lakam Ha clasped each other’s hands tightly, sitting close together on their mat. Sak Nicte kept an arm around Yohl Ik’nal for support. Xoc Akal moaned softly when her husband’s hand was nicked, but kept her gaze steadfastly upon the contestants and held her head high. Yohl Ik’nal felt confident that her father would prevail; it was Hun Pakal she worried about.

Soon her intuition proved correct. In a cunning feint toward Cauac Ahk’s legs, Kan Bahlam unexpectedly swooped his knife upward as his opponent spun away and sliced deeply enough into the upper arm to cause a gush of blood. The cut was skillfully done, cutting just through the full skin thickness while not severing muscle. Cauac Ahk dropped his knife and knelt. Waiting a long moment so all could observe the victory, Kan Bahlam touched his opponent’s shoulder and spoke clearly that no service was required. The defeated ruler rose, and both men saluted then left the field.

The Popo’ and Usihwitz rulers were younger men, and fought longer. Both had several small pricks before the Usihwitz ruler Joy Bahlam placed a significant cut on Popo’ ruler Zotz Choj’s thigh. As the wounded ruler knelt, his opponent demanded a substitute ahauob for service and the elected man came to kneel beside his defeated ruler, subjecting his ponytail to the knife. It was a bitter moment for the Popo’ ruler, and he seethed with anger at his opponent’s victory strutting. Even the soothing ministrations of the Ix Chel priestess binding his wound did not calm his ire. Soon the analgesic brew she urged him to drink brought welcome drowsiness.

The field filled with finely attired ahauob, grasping sharp obsidian or flint knives and seeking suitable opponents. The array might have resembled a dance, with a sea of bobbing feathers and glinting metals, had not the ground become splattered with blood. The shouts and cries of combatants mixed with groans of pain, screeching blades and thudding feet. Action was fast and the Ix Chel healers stayed busy.

Again Yohl Ik’nal strained to see Hun Pakal, no longer trying to hide her concern. Sak Nicte stayed close, murmuring reassurances in between exclamations about deftly executed moves by various of their warriors. She was enjoying the contests, not being attached to any combatant and feeling assured that no serious injuries would occur.

“See how clever he is!” Sak Nicte remarked.

Yohl Ik’nal had no idea which warrior her friend meant. Her attention riveted upon Hun Pakal fighting mid-way across the field. His opponent looked too large and strong, but soon she realized he was not as clever as the man her friend admired. Hun Pakal confused the larger man with rapid slashes that were clumsily deflected with an arm shield. With the opponent on the defensive, Hun Pakal moved in close and placed a good cut just above the neck collar, drawing enough blood for victory. This win secured, he moved toward the field’s edge seeking another combatant. Soon he was re-engaged in fight strategies with a smaller and quicker warrior.

“Why must he fight more?” whispered Yohl Ik’nal.

“The better to win you,” her friend whispered back.

“It is so frightening.”

“You must be brave, for overcoming fear will often be your lot,” Sak Nicte said not unkindly. “Remember your destiny. Much more there will be that you must withstand.”

In later years Yohl Ik’nal would recall her friend’s prophetic words.

With dry eyes and drier mouth, Yohl Ik’nal steeled herself and kept watch as her beloved won another victory, and engaged yet again. In the third struggle, he suffered a small cut on the upper arm and her heart dropped sickeningly. The referees did not consider it enough although a trickle of blood crept down his arm. When she felt almost unable to bear more suspense, Hun Pakal made a decisive cut on his opponent’s lower leg that gushed blood profusely. After the victory hair-cutting, the man limped quickly to the waiting priestesses and Hun Pakal strode proudly to the royal family’s mats.

He bowed low, right hand clasping left shoulder, to Kan Bahlam. The ruler nodded acknowledgement and smiled, for he was growing in conviction that this young man should become his son-in-law. No other had performed as well or as consistently in the flower war. He gestured to the side of his mat.

“Stay beside me, Hun Pakal,” the ruler said. “Bring him drink and tend his wounds,” he directed his attendants.

Hun Pakal glanced toward Yohl Ik’nal sitting on the adjacent mat. Their eyes met briefly but long enough that he caught the glisten in hers, whether from tears or excitement he could not tell. He sat obediently at the back of the ruler’s mat and relaxed into the attendants’ ministrations.

Kan Bahlam had one more important thing to observe: the fate of Ek Chuuah. So far the young man had fought well and subjugated two opponents. He was strong and wily; it was regretful that his ambitions made him an opponent and not an ally. After a drink on the sidelines, Ek Chuuah returned to the field for his third opponent. Immediately a burly man from Usihwitz presented the challenge to fight, multiple scars marking him as experienced in battle. How fitting that Mut Yokte would set this up as the third contest, when Ek Chuuah was tired and the likelihood of defeat the greatest.

It was a well-balanced fight, however, despite the veteran’s experience. Ek Chuuah was quick and made surprise moves that almost brought the decisive cut, but his opponent recognized every strategy and avoided injury at the last moment. Perhaps the veteran was fresher or had incredible stamina, but his energy held as Ek Chuuah began to flag. The young man moved awkwardly to avoid a slash, his right foot coming down on a slippery area sending him off balance. As he struggled to recover footing he momentarily dropped his guard, and the veteran moved in targeting the slipping leg. He made a vicious slash behind the right knee, obsidian blade cutting deeply and partially severing one of Ek Chuuah’s hamstrings.

Ek Chuuah screamed as his leg gave out and he collapsed onto the muddy ground. Blood gushed profusely as the referee declared victory and the veteran cut off the ponytail with a flourish. Two priests noted the serious injury and quickly carried Ek Chuuah to the sidelines, applying pressure to stop blood flow. They discussed the injury with the referee who shook his head disapprovingly.

Usihwitz observers nearby gasped, while Ek Chuuah’s cadre gathered around, murmuring angrily. Several observers from Lakam Ha hooted and signalled an infraction of rules. The veteran insisted the deep cut was accidental, expressing regret for the injury. After some heated argument among referees, they decided in favor of an unfortunate accident, and service to Usihwitz was required of the loser.

Kan Bahlam smiled to himself, observing these happenings from his mat at a distance. Some of Ek Chuuah’s men came over and pleaded with their ruler to intervene. Kan Bahlam explained patiently that he must support the priestly referees in their decisions, and indeed it appeared to him an accident, albeit unfortunate. Such things sometimes happened in the heat of struggle, as everyone knew.

In the end, there was nothing but to accept it as an accident.

Kan Bahlam was pleased. Yohl Ik’nal was grateful that Hun Pakal escaped from such an accident. Xoc Akal read her husband too well, regretted that such tactics were necessary, but would never speak of this. He did what he must.

The sun had passed zenith and started its afternoon decline when the last combatants finished. Clouds were gathering again in the west, and a cooling breeze swept across the plains. Conches called to the four directions as priests circled the combat field carrying incense burners with smoking copal. They used these sacred copal fumes to cleanse and purify the area, to remove all anger, aggression and suffering so that the land might be restored to harmony. The Maya lived in balance with nature, honoring the ways of their Earth Mother, always restoring what they had disturbed.

The final ceremony was conducted by Kan Bahlam, assisted by his wife and daughter. Each recited salutations to the four Chaaks, Bolons and Pauhuatuns that kept the energies of the directions. Honorific phrases were offered to K’in Ahau, Lord Sun and Hun Ahb K’u, Creator of Movement and Measure, all forms and beings upon the earth. When these rituals were complete, Kan Bahlam spread his arms and made hand signs for an important announcement.

Murmurs from the crowd dissipated quickly into silence.

“People of B’aakal, we have seen these magnificent contests, we have appreciated the skill and prowess of our warriors in this flower war.” Kan Bahlam spoke in his commanding voice that carried easily to all edges of the gathering.

“Much am I pleased by the warriors of our cities, and much have I found happiness in the presence of so many friends and citizens of our polity. In this we re-affirm our associations and solidify our cooperation. It is in keeping with the ways of the gods that humans live in harmony and order, as we do in Holy B’aakal.”

These political statements were pointed reminders that the cities present owed allegiance to Lakam Ha, as the May Ku seat and as the dominant city of the polity. That this allegiance meant tribute in both materials and labor was understood; and for this tribute the Holy B’aakal Lord, K’uhul Ahau Kan Bahlam, would keep relations in good stead with the gods and assure peace and abundance. Such was the social-political-spiritual contract of the Maya.