The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque (31 page)

Shaking his head in amazement, he commented to Yohl Ik’nal:

“Once again you are correct, my love. Your vision never ceases to amaze me.”

She appeared in deep reverie, not responding. Moments passed, he waited. Then her eyes flew open widely and she spoke with panic edging her voice.

“But that is not the twist! It is something else, a division of forces, something from the south and not the west!”

“What are you saying?” inquired Chakob, who had remained with them as the Nakoms left. He was far past the age of fighting.

“The south, the south!” she repeated frantically.

“Be calm, Yohl Ik’nal,” said Hun Pakal, trying to sooth her. “Nothing can come from the south, it is too mountainous.”

“Yes, a small force can ascend the footpaths over the mountains. They can be led by one who knows Lakam Ha intimately – Ek Chuuah!”

“You are again correct,” said Chakob. “The path is narrow, steep and treacherous, but if led by one familiar with the terrain and taken slowly over a few days, it can be surmounted. That path leads to . . let me think . . the high plateau between the Bisik and Tun Pitz Rivers. Positioning forces well to invade the city center from the south. Summon runners! We must divert warriors to this area.”

Hun Pakal immediately called more runners and Chakob gave them orders for the Nakoms. Yohl Ik’nal collapsed onto a mat, still in semi-trance. Hun Pakal kneeled and held her in his arms.

“Be comforted,” he murmured. “We are as well-informed as possible, you have done our people an invaluable service.”

Fighting broke out along the Tun Pitz road, the sounds of shouts, war cries and clashing weapons echoing up the hill into the city center. Word spread quickly that Lakam Ha was under attack. Boys and old men grabbed torches to help light the encroaching darkness, while women and children scrambled to find the safest rooms in their complexes. Warriors stationed on the eastern ridges ran rapidly toward the high plateau as instructed by runners. As they crossed the Tun Pitz heading in the direction of the palace and central plaza, screams from the area of Kan Bahlam’s funerary pyramid diverted their course. Leaping steps to ascend the high platform, they encountered invading forces on the plaza, some already inside the temple throwing screaming priests aside. Crashing incensers, pottery and statues resounded from within the temple atop Kan Bahlam’s pyramid. Some attackers were setting blaze to the wooden lintels over entry doors. Others swung heavy stone axes against delicately carved panels on front walls, defacing the stone carver Uxul’s exquisite work.

Lakam Ha warriors fiercely countered this attack, throwing chert-tipped spears and wielding obsidian daggers in hand-to-hand combat. Men grunted and howled, blood flowed freely and many fell motionless. As torches were dropped, priests grabbed them and held light onto the fray, hovering at the edges of combat and shouting encouragement to their forces. Invaders with stone axes turned these upon the defenders, but weight and clumsiness of the weapons gave little protection from spears and daggers. Soon no axes were in action, and the invading forces were driven down the steps away from the temple. The struggle continued on the plaza, but soon additional Lakam Ha warriors arrived and the forces of Usihwitz made a desperate retreat back toward the high plateau and mountain path by which they came. Although pursued intently, several escaped into the engulfing darkness of the steep forests. Mindful of orders, the warriors of Lakam Ha made certain all attackers were killed.

The battle along the Tun Pitz road continued longer, but eventually the enemy turned back and fled toward waiting canoes, carrying the Usihwitz standard with them. Many of their warriors had been killed, and those escaping did not wait for stragglers. Torches spreading light from prows of their canoes on the Michol River soon slipped into darkness. Again, the Lakam Ha forces put to death any Usihwitz warriors left behind.

During the fighting, a select contingent of Lakam Ha warriors led by Hun Pakal sought out the traitors named by the K’uhul Ahau. Some they found engaged in battle, ostensibly fighting with their city’s forces, and managed to make their deaths look as if inflicted by the enemy. But on the plaza of Kan Bahlam’s pyramid, Kab’ol was found fighting openly beside his brother of Ek Chuuah. With intense fury, the select warriors overcame and killed Kab’ol, but when the bodies were tallied, it became evident that Ek Chuuah had escaped.

Darkness settled upon Lakam Ha, the night’s quiet broken by wailing women who grieved the death of sons or husbands. Wounded warriors were taken quickly to the Ix Chel priestesses for treatment. The moon at mid-crescent cast pallid light upon plazas as it slipped between fast-moving clouds. At the pyramid temple of Kan Bahlam, priests accompanied Hun Pakal to inventory the damage. They were gratified that the front panels were minimally defaced, the interior friezes not touched, and the door lintels spared from fire due to the quick response by Lakam Ha warriors. Objects inside the temple such as vases and statues, many of which had been destroyed, could be replaced.

In the aftermath of the attack, Yohl Ik’nal met with the council to take measure of this extraordinary event. Inter-city warfare within a polity was not common among the Maya, but it appeared to be escalating. What made it more disturbing was that a few attacking warriors killed during the battle were from Pakab, a small town not within the Lakam Ha polity. Pakab was affiliated with Ka’an polity. While this did not prove that Kan was involved, it was suggestive. The belligerent, expansionary behavior of Kan was ominous. The council agreed that future aggressions were possible, and Lakam Ha must remain vigilant.

6

Sak K’uk and Kan Mo Hix were married in regal splendor on the fortuitous date of 7 Lamat 6 Mol – 7 the number of energy and power, 6 the number of sprouting and hatching. The people rejoiced and enjoyed opulent feasting, their celebrations continuing through the night. Yaxun Zul, father of the new consort to the ruler’s daughter, breathed more easily and counted his good fortune. More than five uinals had passed since the attack on Lakam Ha, and no murmurings had surfaced to implicate him. He was acutely aware that all the men involved in the plot had been killed, and no captives taken from the invaders. Again he reflected upon how much Hun Pakal and the K’uhul Ahau might actually know about the plot. Whatever their reason, they kept it to themselves, and for this Yaxun Zul was most grateful.

Life settled into its usual patterns in the city of many waters, perched upon verdant mountainsides above the broad plains crossed by great rivers. The royal court hosted courtiers, received tribute, entertained noble visitors. The Popol Na held regular council sessions, often presided over by Hun Pakal, because Yohl Ik’nal needed to rest more. To those close to her, it was apparent that the K’uhul Ahau’s health was declining, although she still made magnificent appearances at court. Sak K’uk frequently attended councils, though her brother Aj Ne Ohl Mat was frequently absent, pursuing the arts with his circle. Kan Mo Hix engaged quickly with his new role, apprenticing to Hun Pakal and making an admirable impression both in court and at council.

Commoners worked the fields, prepared food and cooked, worked on city maintenance and building projects, and enjoyed their city’s prosperity. Warriors trained and conducted field skirmishes, hunted and engaged in contests of strength and skill. Artisans, carvers, diviners, dancers, musicians and merchants plied their trades. The funerary monument of the ruler, a soaring pyramid on the east bank of the Otolum River, was near completion.

And none too soon, reflected Yohl Ik’nal. Her heart was growing weaker, limiting her ability to walk any distance and causing her to tire quickly. Whenever stressed, it beat rapidly and irregularly, making her gasp for breath. She realized that succession must soon be decided, but did not feel strong enough for a vision quest.

In the drowsy warmth of sun-drenched courtyards, in the quiet of moonless nights, Yohl Ik’nal began experiencing visitations as she drifted in the twilight of sleep. At first it was simply a presence, feminine and vast and powerful. It was enough to bask in this comforting presence, this profoundly mothering eminence. Perhaps the Great Mother was coming to welcome her home, to prepare the way of transition to the Underworld. After some time, the presence intensified, seemed to want something of her.

“I am too tired,” she thought. “Just allow me to rest peacefully.”

But the presence would not be denied. It meant to communicate something. Finally Yohl Ik’nal acceded, made efforts to focus attention, to open her receptivity. The presence began sending her images and impressions as she dozed. The first one she received clearly was of herself performing the hoof binding ceremony to designate her son as heir. This startled her into waking, and she blinked rapidly in the hazy sunshine.

Aj Ne Ohl Mat as heir? Why was this the better choice? And who, she wondered, was this powerful presence.

That evening she set the intention to communicate with the presence and seek answers. As she drifted toward sleep and deliberately entered liminal space, she called to the presence to come forth, to reveal itself.

From the celestial vault, a thousand meteors plummeted toward her, bearing an immense star-strewn figure, a cosmic goddess with blazing eyes and shimmering tresses, wrapped in garments of cloud-nebula. Her soaring headdress of stardust streamers and sun-flare plumes bore an image of the “duck hawk” – Muwaan Mat.

Muwaan Mat, the Primordial Goddess, primogenitor of the B’aakal Triad Deities, cosmic mother of creation, originator of the sacred ruling lineage of Lakam Ha. Her magnificence was beyond compare. Bowing deeply in the visionary field, Yohl Ik’nal acknowledged and saluted the Goddess.

“Aj Ne Ohl Mat must be designated heir,” the Goddess communicated into the liminal awareness of Yohl Ik’nal. “ There are reasons for this, reasons to perpetuate the lineage. All is not yours to know. Aj Ne Ohl Mat will not rule long, will not leave successors. Succession will be through Sak K’uk, and she must be prepared to rule after him. It is her destiny to shepherd Lakam Ha through its darkest hours, and to propagate the great ruler to come, he who brings our sacred city to its apex. Time is short.”

Yohl Ik’nal’s mind was spinning questions: “What will happen to Aj Ne? The darkest hours of our city? What must Sak K’uk do to prepare? Time is short?”

The Goddess blasted her awareness with an explosion of shooting stars, burning away her questions.

“All is not yours to know. Time IS short, so act now.”

Shuddering and shrinking away, Yohl Ik’nal huddled at the Goddess’ feet.

“As you will, I shall do your will.”

The Goddess softened her light and a sea of warmth engulfed the ruler.

“Tell this to Sak K’uk. When the dark hours arrive, turn to me. I am the Way, I am the Answer, I am That which is sought in the depth of despair and the height of joy.”

The immense glittering form began to withdraw, lifting skyward into the vast cosmic darkness, populating it with her constellations and nebula. A final communication drifted downward to Yohl Ik’nal:

“Soon you will join me in the sky of ancestors. Your work is well done.”

On the steps of the palace, the deer hoof binding ceremony was performed as thousands filled the main plaza. In the ritual to designate the royal heir, Aj Ne Ohl Mat received from the K’uhul Ahau, his mother, the headdress featuring a deer hoof bound with a white cloth, bordered by B’aakal emblem symbols amid feathered finery. Within these intricate designs was the image of Unen K’awiil, the Triad deity of rulership and succession. Long trumpets blared and people cheered as Aj Ne ceremoniously placed the headdress upon his head, then walked slowly in procession around the main plaza, following his parents and flanked by priests and ahauob. After the ceremony ended, feasting, music and dancing began and continued well into the night.

Yohl Ik’nal, Hun Pakal and Sak K’uk participated for an appropriate length of time, then retired to their quarters. It was not a joyful occasion for them. The ruler had explained to her husband and daughter the communications from Muwaan Mat, and the coming course of events as best she understood them. Knowing that great tribulation was coming to their city, and that Aj Ne’s time of ruling would be limited – by what catastrophe they knew not – saddened the royal family. They continued to prepare Sak K’uk for leadership, and Hun Pakal cultivated the abilities of Kan Mo Hix. To their surprise, following his designation as heir, Aj Ne Ohl Mat began showing greater interest in governance and joined his father frequently in council and teaching sessions.

One great joy soon came to them: Sak K’uk was pregnant. By Yohl Ik’nal’s orders, conception was not delayed some years as was usual among royalty. Sak K’uk took her dynastic obligations seriously; she followed instructions of Ix Chel priestesses faithfully to ensure a successful pregnancy and healthy child. She ate recommended foods, took herbs as advised, exercised regularly, took cleansing baths, paid homage to Ix Chel as goddess of childbirth and healing. She blossomed as her belly enlarged, skin glowing and hair shining. Although her parents doubted that motherhood would come to her naturally, they appreciated her indomitable spirit. There would be ample wet-nurses and attendants to care for the child. Kan Mo Hix was proud to have progeny so quickly, and Yaxun Zul simply beamed. But, it was difficult for Hohmay and her husband Aj Ne.

In the time of spring equinox, as K’in Ahau-Sun Lord found perfect balance between light and darkness, Sak K’uk completed the 260 days of pregnancy and went into labor. She was young, 19 solar years of age, robustly healthy, strong and determined. Her labor progressed rapidly and smoothly, much to the gradification of the Ix Chel priestesses. After less than one-half day of intense contractions, the midwife priestesses helped her stand on stone supports above the birthing bowl. She grasped birthing ropes tied to wall hooks, as one midwife encircled her waist with arms to help push the child downward. Another midwife held the birthing bowl as others chanted encouragement. Sak K’uk finished labor with a short time of vigorous pushing, and brought into the Middleworld a well-formed, healthy boy.