“They put something on your skin—mine too—to help with our bites. It also keeps the bugs away,” she said, and looked over to the doorway. Fast approaching footsteps drew William’s attention as well.
The boy king charged into the room, out of breath from running all the way there. He approached William with a giant grin on his face, exposing his pointy jeweled teeth.
Betty stepped away from the bed and sat on a stone bench, watching with a smirk as the King began blabbering away.
“Wait, hold up.” William held his hands out in a halting gesture. “Ma’ti naati kech.” He explained that he didn’t understand. “Please speak a little slower,” he said in Yucatec-Maya.
The boy didn’t seem to understand William’s words at first, but he picked up on his hand language to slow down. Yet even at a slower pace, William could only grasp occasional words. He gathered that the King wanted to know how he was feeling, where they were from, and what his name was.
“Ah, let’s start with that,” William said in Yucatec-Maya, pointing to his forehead, “William.” He enunciated each syllable. “Will—iam.”
“Balam,” the boy said, mispronouncing William’s name somewhat. His eyes grew wide in reverence, and he raised his hands to the heavens as though William had just said he was Jesus.
“Sure… that’s close enough,” William said with a laugh. He pointed at Betty. “This is Betty,” he said. “Be—tty.”
“Bati,” the King said. He gave her a respectful nod.
“Yes, Balam and Bati,” William said. He gestured to the boy. “What is your name?”
“Yax,” he said with a big smile. He turned to the doorway and clapped his hands twice, drawing in two chubby Mayan women with baskets of jewelry and accessories.
“No, that’s okay,” William said, waving his hands.
“No use trying, William,” Betty said. “They think they’re doing you a favor.”
“Oh, fine.” He tried to relax as they adorned him with a beaded necklace and a headdress with a colorful collection of quetzal feathers. He glared at Betty. “If my girlfriend saw me like this… that would really be the end of our relationship.”
Betty’s face tightened as she held back her urge to laugh. “No, I think this is your look, Will.”
The elder Mayan woman inspected William’s feet. She seemed pleased with how they had healed and presented him with sandals. As he put them on, Yax explained how they had made them just for his extra large feet. He urged William to stand.
William stepped gingerly on the floor and smiled, pleased to not feel the painful sting in his step anymore. Betty walked beside him as they followed Yax down the hallways of the grand palace. A bit of an entourage gathered behind them as they went—Mayan nobles trying to get a peek at them. William sensed that they had never seen such unusual visitors before.
As they passed by statues of gods and wall paintings of battles and sacrifices, it occurred to William that had he been an archeologist, the experience would have been the highlight of his career. But at that moment, all the beautiful artwork only reinforced the reality of their predicament and brought on a wave of dread.
They arrived at a large courtyard open to the outdoors; a vast spread of food had been laid out before them on colorful embroidered rugs. Giant stone columns supported a thatched roof that protected them from the rain.
Yax sat on a raised stone slab covered with animal skins. “Kutal’ex,” he said, motioning for William and Betty to sit on the rugs beside him.
Other Mayan nobles—men and women—entered the courtyard, gawking at the two strangers as they made their way in. William never liked to be the center of attention. Being treated like some royal Mayan celebrity made him feel awkward.
Servants busied themselves bringing in more food, bowing as they set it down. Large wooden trays contained an assortment of fruits—mangos, papayas, and other food he had never seen.
An eerie melody echoed through the courtyard as musicians beat on drums and blew into wooden flutes of varying sizes.
An unusually attractive Mayan woman, covered in dazzling jewelry, entered from another archway. She was dressed in a tight fitting huipil that clearly displayed her perfect figure. Her feathered headdress looked like a peacock spreading its tail. As she approached, the sun broke through the clouds briefly, causing her to sparkle like a celebrity at the Academy Awards show. She sat to the left of Yax and regarded William with a curious smile.
William felt uncomfortable by the young woman’s stare, and he had a strange feeling that he knew her from somewhere. He shifted his attention away from her, but felt her gaze still upon him.
Yax licked his lips in anticipation of the feast and twiddled his fingers over the platter of food before him, not sure what to grab first. All the others watched, apparently waiting for him to begin. Yax grabbed a single small berry, tossed it in the air, and caught it in his mouth. Everyone laughed and began eating.
The beautiful woman beside Yax rolled her eyes up; she seemed embarrassed. William wondered if she was the boy’s mother. Yet beneath her decorative attire, and the swirly designs painted on her face, she looked closer to his own age.
While feasting and chatting with one another, the courtyard filled with laughter and merriment. William inhaled his meal like a dog chowing down his first ever scrap of meat. He helped himself to plenty of fruit and tortilla pancakes, and he gulped down several cups of a delicious chocolate-flavored drink.
Betty picked at her food, while the chubby man beside her urged her to try the stringy meat from a platter with flies buzzing over it.
After the little king had eaten his fill, he stood, silencing all those around him. His demeanor transformed from that of a boy, to a serious ruler. He began speaking, and the people clung to his every word. At first, Yax spoke in angry and harsh tones. Later, his speech became optimistic and inspirational. He seemed to be grabbing something with his hand. When he opened his fist, he set it on William’s shoulder, staring at him with a sense of deep gratitude in his eyes. Everyone began beating their hands on the floor in applause.
Betty leaned over and jabbed William with her elbow.
“What’s he saying?”
“He went a little fast. But I think the guy who fell down the steps was somehow related to him. That was the family division I had heard before—two in line for the throne. They think the gods sent us to… set things right.”
“Balam! Balam!” the King chanted. The others joined in, even Betty, repeating the new pronunciation of his name. The King sat and motioned for William to stand.
“Oh great,” William said, “I think they want me to give a speech.”
“Ask them if they know how we can get home,” Betty said with a hopeful look.
The crowd continued to chant, “Balam… Balam… Balam,” until at last he stood. Everyone became silent and gazed at William with reverence—except for the young lady seated next to Yax, who looked at him like he was going to be her dessert.
William cleared his throat, speaking in Yucatec-Maya as best he could. “I know my words sound different,” he said, motioning with his hand across his mouth. “I just want to say, that…” he paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words, frustrated that he didn’t know how to explain what had happened to them, “…we need to go back to where we are from.”
Upon seeing some confused and worried looks, it occurred to William that it may have been rude to announce that they wanted to leave after just getting there. “What I mean to say is… thank you for your help. We are happy to be here,” he said in Yucatec-Maya, forcing a smile before he sat down. He figured he’d find another venue for discussing their situation later.
The entire assembly thumped their hands on the floor, applauding his comments.
A bald Mayan with bright silver eyes stepped out from the shadows of a stone column, as a thunderclap accentuated his sudden appearance. His long braided ponytail—the only hair on the back of his head—rested against his s
hort purple cape.
As he approached the King, he glanced at William, giving him an intense stare. “Perhaps,” he said with a power in his voice that echoed through William’s mind, “I may be of assistance.”
Chapter Four
The unusual bald Mayan bowed before the King, revealing two swirling tattoos on the back of his head that merged to form an image of a serpent’s face over his forehead. His necklace—a large jade pendant of the sun with rays of snakes—rested against his bare chest, partially covering a scar from an obvious battle wound. “My Lord, I understand the significance of Balam’s arrival here, and I request your permission to be his mentor.”
Yax leaned back, considering the request with a concerned look on his face. A hiss resonated through the courtyard as the nobles whispered the announcement amongst themselves.
“How is it that I understand you so well?” William asked the bald man in Yucatec-Maya.
His silver eyes rolled beneath his eyelids. “My words—in this plane—are in the voice of my people. You hear me through your ears and also through your mind,” he said, pointing his index fingers to his temples.
William believed him because when he spoke, he understood Mayan words that he had never heard before.
“William,” Betty whispered with a confused look. “When he talks, I’m seeing… pictures in my head!”
Most the guests in the chamber returned to eating and conversing with those beside them. The musicians chimed in as well, increasing the background noise around them.
The woman seated beside Yax leaned forward, looking upset. “With all due respect, Priest Quisac, after our father died, you were not here to help our cause—of my brother’s rightful accession to the throne. How can we trust you now?”
“Teshna!” Yax slammed his hand against the floor, silencing the room as quickly as a waiter dropping a stack of plates in a busy restaurant. He gave his sister a scolding stare for a moment, seeming angry that she had spoken in such a way. Yax turned to Priest Quisac with a hopeful look in his eyes. “Well, Serpent Priest? Do you still have it?”
“Yes, King Stone Frog,” Priest Quisac said. He turned to Teshna. “It is not as you presumed, my dear. Your father sent me away to protect it before his final battle with Calakmul.”
Amidst the crowd of nobles, a man stood abruptly. He was a muscular and handsome Mayan, somewhere in his forties, with a diamond-shaped tattoo on his forehead. “The bloodstone is with you?” he asked with urgency in his voice. “It must be turned over to me at once!”
“Patience, Honac-Fey!” Yax said to the noble. “It is true that you were our father’s Royal Protector. I understand that the bloodstone must be kept with the Royal Protector prior to the full accession of a new king.”
“What’s all the fuss about?” Betty asked William.
William shrugged, not certain either. “Something about a stone.”
The Serpent Priest retrieved a small jade container from a pouch on his side, and he removed a silver necklace with an oval red gem—about the size of a small potato—dangling at the end. He handed the necklace to the King.
Yax stood and retrieved the necklace, being careful not to touch the bulky gem. He displayed the bloodstone for all to see. It began to glow, casting a red haze over his face. “It is not proper for me to wear the bloodstone until I am of age. For now, it must be kept by the Royal Protector.”
“Agreed,” Honac-Fey said, coming closer.
Yax held his hand out, halting Honac-Fey. “Balam and Bati were sent by the gods for our protection. For if not, you and many in this room would be dead… or awaiting death. Therefore, I name the one who saved my life… Balam… as my Royal Protector,” the King said. Honac-Fey became livid; his face turned red, almost competing with the glow from the bloodstone. Yax held the necklace out to William.
William didn’t understand everything the boy had said, but he gathered that he wanted him to have the necklace as a gift for saving his life. So he nodded to accept it. A servant behind him removed his feathered headdress, while Yax placed the necklace over his head; it felt much lighter than William had expected. When Yax stepped back, a cheer erupted from the crowd, followed by everyone chanting, “Balam… Balam… Balam.”
Yax raised his hands to silence the room and looked back to William. “It is true that Priest Quisac has not been with us for much time, and so I need only ask Balam, to whom we all owe our lives… do you wish the assistance of the Serpent Priest?”
Understanding the general idea of what Yax had just asked, William answered without hesitation. “Yes,” he agreed.
“Then it is so!” Yax cheered, clasping his hands together. “Our kingdom is whole again! Let us celebrate our gifts, and play the games we once played.”
The room erupted in a festive mood of music, feasting, and lively conversation—all except the man with the diamond-shaped tattoo on his forehead. Honac-Fey glared at Priest Quisac like a hungry wolf that just had his meal snatched away. He stormed off, carrying his rage with him.
The Serpent Priest bowed to Yax. “I am weary from travel, my Lord. With your permission, I will withdraw.”
“Of course,” he said. He signaled the servants to his side and ordered them to assist the Serpent Priest.
Before leaving, Priest Quisac leaned close to William and whispered, “Balam, I will try to help you with your… circumstance. But you must promise me something first.”
William nodded.
“You must give your word to help my people, to whom my life has been dedicated. Do I have your pledge?”
William had no idea what kind of help he was referring to, but figured he had no other option. “Sure… yes,” he said with an enthusiastic nod.
Priest Quisac clasped William’s forearm in a binding gesture. He locked a curious stare deep into William’s eyes for a time, as if peering into his mind; he lurched back, as if startled by something he saw. He turned abruptly and exited.
Teshna watched Priest Quisac leave, and she stood. “I am going to the temple for prayer, brother,” she said.
“Fine,” Yax said, “but come to the ballcourt later, as planned.”
She nodded and passed by William on her way out, running her fingers along his back. William snapped his attention to Teshna, catching eye contact with her before she left the room. He realized that she was the Mayan hottie who had been at his bedside rubbing oil on his body the other night.
“So what the heck is going on?” Betty asked, interrupting William’s blank stare.
As if coming out of a day dream, he refocused back to Betty and explained things as best he could—how the Serpent Priest had promised to help them with their unusual problem.
“How does he even know what our problem is?” Betty asked, looking doubtful. “Anyhow, haven’t you already helped these people enough? What more could you possibly do?”
“What choice do we have?” William asked.
Betty’s annoyed look softened, until the heavy man seated beside her began touching her hair. She turned and glowered at him. William assumed he was a high ranking noble, to be seated so near to the King. The chubby Mayan had decorated his face with, among other things, a bone pierced clean through his nose. He continued to play with her hair, seeming to find its texture fascinating.
“Stop it!” Betty scolded, slapping his hand away. The chubby man put his hands to his heart, as though he had just found his true love.
William laughed as Betty fought off the affections of her new friend. In that moment, he decided to do as Yax had advised… to enjoy the day.
Teshna did not go to the temple to pray as she had told her brother, but instead followed Priest Quisac to his room. However, when she entered she did not see the Serpent Priest anywhere. Strange, she thought, for she saw him go in just moments before, and had only waited in the hallway just long enough for the servants to leave.
“Teshna,” a voice drew her attention from the ceiling above. “I must regain my strength. Please leave me t
o rest.”
She looked up, startled to see the Serpent Priest lying flat on his back, along one of the wood beams at the top of the vaulted ceiling. “Priest Quisac, how did you get up there?”
“Is that important, for I am here, am I not?” “Well, yes you are. Why aren’t you resting in your bed?” she asked.
“Is it not obvious, Teshna, for I am here.”
Teshna stomped her foot and moved to a table along the wall, taking a moment to light an incense burner. “You’re impossible, you know that? You never give me a straight answer.”
“Teshna, have I not known you since birth?” he asked, rolling onto his side along the narrow beam, and resting his head on his hand.
“Yes,” she said, worried that he might fall off any moment.
“Do you remember nothing of my abilities?”
“Oh,” she said, understanding, and spun around to find Priest Quisac in the corner of the room, hiding in the shadows. “Yes, I remember our games as a child. They are fond memories.”
“Why are you here?” he asked.
Teshna heard several nobles chatting down the hall, nearing Priest Quisac’s room. She moved to the side of the doorway where she could not be seen. She watched them pass, sighed, and spun back to the Serpent Priest. “I must know…. who is this young man? Is it true that he is the Balam… from the prophecies… sent by the gods? He is indeed powerful and…” She blushed. “Well, is it true?”
“We are all sent by the gods to serve a purpose in this life. Have I not told you this before?”
“More riddles!” she said, and turned away.
Priest Quisac moved to the side of the room, where a large Mayan calendar was hanging on the wall. He studied it for a moment. “Life is indeed a riddle. That is why we have our sacred calendar—to give us guidance for each day.”
“Priest Quisac!” she blurted, becoming impatient.
The Serpent Priest turned with a confident enthusiasm; a slight smile crossed his lips. “Yes, he is the Balam… sent by the gods… not only to help our people, but his kind as well. He does not yet understand all this.”
The Serpent Passage Page 5
