“Didn’t I say?” said Acab.
In the clearing’s centre sat a broad stone building. Square archways led into shadow on either side of the base. The solid stones in one of them were tilted slightly out of square. Between the doorways, even stone steps, cracked in places, led up to a flattened top on which stood a low stone house. But the structure was not the strangest thing. At the very top grew a tree. It projected up into the canopy and fat gnarled roots, pale and grey twined down and all around the building itself. It must have stood like that for years. They looked at each other, surprise on their faces, then back around at the clearing.
“This is old,” said Quapar. “Very old.”
“Huh. You don’t say,” retorted Acab.
“It doesn’t look like anyone has been here,” said Oquis, scanning the clearing again. He was right; it was partially overgrown, the tree roots trailing out from the building’s base. A small shrub grew from the stonework about halfway up the cracked and littered stairs.
“This could be a good place to stop for the night,” said Tohil. “At least it will provide some protection from the rain.”
Oquis nodded.
“But are you sure?” said Quapar. “What about the gods? What about...it looks like a temple.”
“If there were any gods here, they haven’t been back for a long time,” said Acab. He immediately started forward and made for the broad steps.
“Acab, wait. Maybe we should...,” said Quapar, but Acab merely waved his hand behind him, shrugged his shoulders and continued walking, stepping past shrubs and over the trailing roots.
“I’ll have a look inside down there,” said Oquis, dumping his things on the ground, all except the macuahuitl he carried, and also headed towards the building.
Tohil wanted to see what was up top; he didn’t want to leave it to Acab, so he followed suit and made for the base of the steps.
“Um, I will look at the other side,” said Quapar finally. “Or I could stay here and look after our things.” When there was no response, he also dropped his burdens and raced to catch up with the others.
Even though Acab was already at the top, Tohil took his time, studying the steps one by one. Each stair bore carved reliefs, some intact, some worn with the passage of time, and still others split right through by the intrusive root system. In other places, the stone had simply cracked. Any traces of colour or paint had mostly gone, except a splash here and there of blue or red, hinting at how they must have once looked. Some of the carvings were familiar; there was Chac with his amphibian features, his fangs, and his long nose. Further up, he could see Yum Cimil’s skeletal form, traces of the black spots that represented decay were barely visible. Quapar had been right; this place was very old. It reminded him of the temple back home, but it was different too. It seemed older, but he wondered if that was really the case.
By the time Tohil reached the top of the stairs, Acab had already disappeared into the dark interior of the topmost structure. Tohil paused for a moment, tracing upwards the vast tree trunk reaching into the sky above. How could something grow like that? He turned his attention back to the doorway in front of him and stopped. There, right at the centre of the lintel stone sat another of the strange faces. It looked almost identical to the one on the temple back home and it was staring out back the way they had come. He wasn’t sure, but that had to mean something. Rather than venturing inside, he walked right around the building, having to clamber over a tall root, but eventually navigating his way to the other side. It too had a doorway, directly opposite the first, and above it sat another stone face. He stood staring at it for a moment, and then turned to follow its lifeless gaze. It was definitely looking in the direction that they were supposed to travel.
“Hey, come and look at this.” It was Acab from inside.
Tohil cautiously stepped into the darkness, waiting for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. It was almost completely dark inside, but he was just able to finally make out Acab’s figure, running his hands over the surface of a long rectangular stone slab in the room’s centre, standing at about waist height and supported by carved supports all round. He had propped his spear at one side.
“This has to be an altar,” said Acab. “I wonder how many people were sacrificed here.”
“Probably many,” said Tohil stepping properly inside now that his eyes had adjusted. In one section of the ceiling, the roots had broken through, leaving a small patch exposed to the sky and allowing a trace more light into one side of the room. The floor was still damp from the rain, and he could smell the wet and rotting leaves that had fallen or been blown inside to accumulate against the edges of the walls and in the corners. “Who knows how many years it was used. It doesn’t look like anyone has done so for a long time though.”
Tohil scanned what remained of the ceiling, but it was just flat cracked stone. The walls were relatively plain, a few carved figures here and there, but the focal point of the room was definitely the altar.
Acab reached for the knife at his waist and held it in both hands, point down above the stone slab, his teeth bared in a wide grin.
“Stop it,” hissed Tohil, glancing around. “This is not something to joke about.”
Acab’s grin slipped away, and he lowered the knife sheepishly.
“I was only...”
“I know what you were only,” said Tohil. He looked around again, thinking that he wouldn’t particularly like to spend the night in here, but the light was starting to fade rapidly now. Who knew what dark gods or spirits may haunt this place at night. Perhaps Ixtab stalked the shadows, the hanging noose around her neck. With the thought, he swallowed, his hand drifting unconsciously to his throat.
“Let’s see what the others have found.”
Together they left the building and moved towards the stairs. Oquis and Quapar were waiting for them below, looking up expectantly.
“What did you find?” asked Oquis.
Acab shrugged. “Just a room. There’s an old altar in there, but the ceilings broken. It won’t protect us from the rain. What about you two?”
Oquis beckoned them down. “Better. There are small living spaces on each side here. Even places for a fire it looks like. We can use one of those overnight. I think there are a couple of things living inside, but it won’t take much to chase them out.”
“Or maybe we can catch them and eat them,” said Acab as he walked down the stairs. “I’m starting to get hungry.”
“Me too,” said Quapar.
“All right. Let’s grab our things and move inside. There was some dry wood in there. It should be enough to start a fire. And Acab, seeing as you are the one who is so hungry, perhaps you can see about catching some of our guests. It would be nice to have something other than simple grain.”
“As long as it’s not rats,” said Quapar. “I hate rats. All those little bones.”
Acab snorted. “We get what we get,” he said and moved to collect his things from where they’d dropped them. “Anyway, it’s a bit late to catch birds,” he said glancing up at the treetops. “And I didn’t see any animal trails when we came in. Pity there’s no pool around here. We could have caught some frogs.”
It didn’t take them too long to transport their gear inside the leftmost building, clear themselves some space and get settled. Oquis set about putting a fire together, some old leaves some sticks and sparks from a piece of flint. Meanwhile, Acab was absent, probably chasing around in the undergrowth with his spear, trying to find something. They’d been too slow with the erstwhile residents of their makeshift accommodation as they quickly scurried away as soon as the visitors arrived. By the time everything was cleared and a small smoky fire was burning, the rain had set in again and Tohil was grateful for the shelter. Just to confirm what he was thinking, he moved in closer to the fire’s meagre light and studied the map, bending over it so that he could see its dark markings well enough.
From somewhere outside came a grunt and a curse, and then
a sound of triumph. Apparently, Acab had been successful with his hunt. He appeared a few moments later bearing a very dead opossum by the tale, a clear spear wound in the body. It was a decent size too.
“Nice catch,” said Quapar.
Acab grinned, clearly pleased with himself. Without wasting any time, he hunkered down to clean his catch.
“And look what I found here,” said Oquis. He lifted a handful of clay balls.
“Ah, for cooking,” said Tohil, glancing up from his map. “But they are not much good with what we have here now. They might come in handy later.”
“I’ll make some dough,” said Quapar, reaching for one of the water gourds and a meal sack. “And we can cook the meat on sticks over the fire.”
“Good,” said Tohil. “But listen.” He straightened then and looked around at his companions who each looked up, stopping what they were doing. “When I was at the top with Acab, I saw something.”
The watched him, waiting expectantly.
“Well, it might be nothing, but above the door on the building up there, there was a face, and there was another one on the other side facing the other direction.”
“And so?” said Acab, turning back to his skinning.
“Well, there’s one just like it on the temple back home.”
“Yes, I’ve seen it,” said Quapar.
“The one back on the temple was facing the way we are travelling, in the direction of the Great City. More than that, I think it was facing in this direction. Towards where we are now.”
“And...,” said Oquis. “You think those faces above are pointing our way to us.”
“Yes. It might be nothing, but...if we keep following in that direction, perhaps there are more.”
Acab snorted from his corner. “Right. All those years ago somebody decided to carve messages just for us.”
“Who says they were there for us?” Tohil retorted. “I didn’t say that. They could mean something else, but what if...?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see,” said Oquis. “If we keep following the map and it leads the same way, then we’ll see if there are more and we’ll see if Tohil is right.”
Acab merely grunted, but held his tongue. “Meat is ready,” he announced. “Grab yourself a stick.”
“And I will start some breads,” Quapar said, joining the others at the fire.
It didn’t take long for the smell of food to have Tohil’s mouth watering. He took a couple of pieces of the flat cornbread, juggling it between his hands and then took a bite, chewing gratefully. The opossum meat was smoky and a little tough, but he still chewed the pieces from the stick, wiping the grease from his chin with the back of his hand. The others also ate in silence, clearly relishing their simple meal.
“Hum, not enough, but not bad,” said Acab finally. “Maybe Tohil’s right and you should take those balls,” he said to Oquis. “They really will come in handy if we have a chance to build a fire pit.”
Oquis nodded, his pursed lips indicating that he thought it was a clever idea, and he reached for a few of them and shoved them into one of the sacks. Normally, if a fire pit was dug, they’d find stones to help cook the food, but they might not be able to find stones everywhere along their journey. Acab was right; they needed to take what they found where they found it. They would find ways to make do along the path.
As he leaned back against one of the walls whilst his food digested, Tohil’s thoughts returned to their quest. There were so many unanswered questions that he had, and with every step of the way, there seemed to be more. In the morning, in better light and before the afternoon rains came, he wanted to take a further look at the altar and the structure atop the building, see if there was anything else that might provide clues to the things that were troubling him. The others could hunt for some provisions while he did so and then they could set out again, clearly in the direction that the other face was pointing. He was sure, somehow that they would find more things along the way. Perhaps things that would help answer some of his questions.
He stood then and indicating the opossum remains over in the corner with his chin, said, “I need to go outside. I’ll clean that up at the same time.”
“It’ll wait till morning,” said Acab, lying on one elbow and staring into their small fire.
“I’d prefer not to sleep with the smell of opossum guts,” Tohil told him. He moved over to the corner where they lay and scraped them together into the skin. He would toss them out at the edge of the clearing. They might attract other animals, but that might be a good thing too.
“Back soon,” he said, and stepped through the doorway, his messy burden held together with both hands.
As he emerged, he peered into the darkness, trying to locate a spot to drop the remains, and then, stopped still and took an involuntary sharp breath. Not even realising it, he dropped the mess at his feet.
There, on the other side of the clearing stood a figure, still recognisable in the darkness below the forest’s canopy, but coloured in shadow. It was tall and thin, long feathers sprouting from the back of an eagle’s head, a spear held in one hand. There was no doubt it had seen him, that it was watching him.
They had been too relaxed. The Bird People had found them after all.
They existed and multiplied; they had daughters, they had sons, these wooden figures; but they did not have souls, nor minds, they did not remember their Creator, their Maker; they walked on all fours, aimlessly. They no longer remembered the Heart of Heaven and therefore they fell out of favour. It was merely a trial, an attempt at man.
— Popol Vuh, Part I, Chapter 2
SIX
Tohil jumped back through the doorway as quickly as he could, waving his hands downwards as a warning to silence any comments that might be prompted by his return.
“They’re here,” he hissed. He reached quickly for his bow and arrows. “That way.”
He ducked his head around the door he had just come through, but of the warrior, there was no sign. He turned and made for the opposite door as the other three were still fumbling for their own weapons. Tohil’s heart was pounding. His group were not warriors, or at least not yet, but judging by his dress and his size, he was sure that the man he had seen most certainly was. And where there was one, there were bound to be more.
“How many?” whispered Acab, crouched in the door.
“There was only one, and he was gone when I just looked. There will be more and they will be back now for sure.”
“What should we do?” said Quapar, a hint of panic in his voice. Tohil didn’t blame him; he was feeling the same. The bottom of his belly felt like an empty pit despite the fact that they had just eaten, light as the meal had been.
“It might take them a little while to come back. I still can’t hear anything. They might try to surround us. We will be better if we are higher. We should go to the altar room at the top. If we take all the weapons, it will be better. We can use darts and your blowgun and my bow. Use the other things if they get in close.”
Oquis popped his head out of the doorway and quickly withdrew it.
“We don’t know how many they are,” he said. “When the Bird People attack, they always make a lot of noise.”
“That’s true,” said Quapar.
They collected all the remaining weapons and one by one, slipped out the door. As quickly and as silently as they could, they climbed the rear staircase, glancing around the surrounding trees as they did, and then stepped inside the building at the structure’s top.
“Oquis, Quapar,” whispered Tohil. “You take that side. I’ll take this side with Acab. That’s where I first saw him. They will probably come from that direction. We will be better having more ranged weapons here.”
Each of them nodded, laying their other weapons on the floor for easy access, and then leaning in the doorway, one on either side, watching and waiting, listening for every sound. They would come, Tohil knew it.
Everything was still, the normal scre
eches and howls from the forest seeming subdued. A large bat flew among the treetops, its wings a voomp, voomp through the thick night air echoing the sound of his heart. He glanced around inside the room, checking that there were no more access points, but there were only the two doors. The break in the roof didn’t concern him. There was no proper way in from there. As he let his gaze rove around the chamber, he fixed for a moment on one of the wall carvings. There was something about it, and he frowned. It was too dark to make out the details. He stored it away for another look, if he would ever have the chance for another look. He needed to keep his mind on what was happening now.
The seconds dragged on and the minutes felt like hours, and still the dryness in his mouth and the pounding in his chest persisted. He stared into the darkness, squinting his eyes, and saw shadows and things moving where there were none. There was rustling through the bushes, a creak of branches, then nothing. Another bat, perhaps the same one flew unhurriedly overhead and then headed off into the darkness. Still he stood with arrow nocked, waiting. There! He had seen something. He tapped Acab with the butt of his bow, but Acab had clearly seen it too. A figure crept slowly around the side of a tree at the clearing’s edge. And there. There was another. A little further around, another two appeared. They were lining up for an attack. The first figure was gesturing towards the room at the building’s base, which they had recently vacated. That was good. Tohil’s breath came rapidly now. Perhaps they would find the room deserted and leave them be, but no, that was unlikely; they’d left most of their gear below.
He waved his hand behind him to catch the other two’s attention and glanced back over his shoulder. Quapar saw him at once and shook his head. Tohil chopped one hand up and down, indicating the direction and Quapar nodded back. Oquis was hefting the heavy macuahuitl. They really did need to get him something he could use at a distance too. Perhaps when they had made it through the night, if they made it through the night, they’d have that chance. Acab was already tracking one of the figures, blowgun at the ready. The weapon might not bring a man down, but it would certainly stop him in his tracks. Tohil had not yet seen the warrior in the eagle mask. He had to be there somewhere.
The Serpent Road Page 5
