The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque (29 page)

Later that day Hun Pakal and Yohl Ik’nal took afternoon refreshments of fruit and cacao drinks in the pale sunlight filtering into their private courtyard. Yohl Ik’nal reclined on a bench covered with soft mats, her face revealing the strain of recent events. Hun Pakal gently caressed her shoulder, trying to conceal his concern about her exhausted appearance.

“You must rest more, beloved,” he murmured.

She nodded.

“Truly I am tired. There is so much to do . . and I need your help.”

“Always and in everything. Here I am beside you.”

Several moments passed in silence as they sipped their cacao drinks. He urged her to take some fruit, so she nibbled on ripe papaya.

“There is something I must speak, for your ears only,” she said softly.

Hun Pakal glanced around, waving the servants from the courtyard. He focused intently on his wife’s tired face, nodding to continue.

“Involved in the attack plot was another of our city, whom I did not mention in the council. You will understand this when I whisper his name.”

Hun Pakal bent his ear close to her mouth.

“It was Yaxun Zul.”

He sat upright, startled. Quickly checking the courtyard to be sure no one was within hearing, he whispered back:

“The father of Kan Mo Hix! Both your and Sak K’uk’s visions showed him as her husband. What make you of this?”

“In my vision I did not see Kan Mo Hix among the plotters. This I do not understand, perhaps his father is protecting him. If the attack implicates this group from our city, they will all be executed as traitors. Perhaps Yaxun Zul wants to spare his son this possibility.”

“I wonder how they plan to avoid implication,” reflected Hun Pakal. “Any captured attacker from Usihwitz could be forced to reveal their names.”

“Just so. And if Kan Mo Hix knows nothing, has had no involvement, then they cannot identify him among the traitors.”

“But he will be guilty by relationship. If his father is among the traitors, who will believe that he is not?”

“Ah, there you have my motive in not mentioning Yaxun Zul. Clearly the deities have ordained that Sak K’uk is to marry Kan Mo Hix. For our people to accept this, neither of them must be found involved in the attack plot.”

“Hmmm. That poses difficulties.” Hun Pakal smiled appreciatively at his wife. “What plans have you? No doubt you have considered all these things.”

“Indeed. First, you must go at once to Yaxun Zul and negotiate the marriage of his son to Sak K’uk. That will create a grand dilemma for him. If his goal is gaining more power in Lakam Ha, what better way than marrying into the ruling family? It is much more certain than a raid to elevate his status. He will quickly disengage himself from the plot. Ha! I should like to watch him scurry. This will create chaos within their group, much to our advantage.”

“Think you not that the attack is meant to overthrow our dynasty? Or take over our city?”

“No. Ek Chuuah does not have enough forces to accomplish these objectives. He wishes to humiliate us and weaken our status among the ahauob and people. Then maybe internal competition will unseat our family. It is a risk, but by repelling this attack we will be stronger than ever.”

Hun Pakal nodded. He thought a moment, and a dark shadow passed over his face.

“There is one more thing that must be done,” he said grimly. “All our townsmen involved in the plot must be killed in the battle. If they survive to be questioned, they will reveal that Yaxun Zul was among them.”

Wearily, Yohl Ik’nal agreed.

“Sadly, that must be so.”

Another period of silence passed while the royal couple sipped cacao. Both appeared lost in thought, wrapped in the same concerns. Hun Pakal looked again at the lines of exhaustion on his wife’s face. Reluctantly, he brought up the topic of royal accession.

“Beloved, I hesitate to speak of this, but it must be addressed. You have not designated an heir. With the troubles facing our city, this would add stability.”

“Of this I am well aware,” she replied. “It is a most difficult choice. Neither of our children is as yet ready for rulership. Sak K’uk has the character, but must refine and tame it. Aj Ne Ohl Mat does not possess such leadership qualities, but is more contained. Perhaps he would grow into a wise ruler.”

“He lacks interest in affairs of state,” observed Hun Pakal. “He is immersed in artistic pursuits, literature and poetry. Rarely does he attend the Popol Nah. Even today, informed of this most important meeting, he did not come.”

“Our son causes me great concern. Rulership interests him not at all. This must I reflect upon, and seek divine guidance.”

She took Hun Pakal’s hand in hers, squeezing it warmly.

“Heart of my heart, you are ever my most worthy and trusted advisor. What you speak is truth – I will designate an heir with the hoof-binding ceremony soon.”

Sak K’uk strode furiously through the main palace arcade, hands balled into tight fists. Two women servants scurried out of her path, gazes averted to escape her well-known wrath. Arriving at the chambers of her brother, Aj Ne Ohl Mat, she hovered in the doorway, taking in the scene. Aj Ne was reading his poetry aloud. The lilting tones of her brother’s tenor voice hung like drops of honey in the expectant air. His circle of friends was listening in rapt concentration, while his wife Hohmay gazed adoringly, hands clasped to her breast. Sak K’uk curled her lip in disgust. That pompous, self-absorbed scrawny-necked crane! His arrogance and conceit were worthy of Wuqub Kaquix, the legendary bird who set himself up falsely as center of the cosmos. The whole scene made her want to throw up.

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 significance 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.