The Serpent Passage

by Todd Allen Pitts

  William sat beside Teshna on a big piece of driftwood. She had been busy making dinner—tortillas with dried tapir meat and peppers. She handed a meal to William; he folded it like a burrito and gobbled it down. Teshna smiled as she brushed a piece of food from his whiskers. She stood and delivered a meal to Priest Quisac; William followed her.

  They all gazed into the bay with exhausted faces, finishing their meals in silence. William wiped his mouth and let loose a nervous sigh. “How long do you think we have until the feathered serpents catch up with us?” he asked.

  Signs of worry began to show in Priest Quisac’s eyes as well. “The marsh would have concealed our initial trail. However, when they find the location where we started on solid ground… it won’t take them long to track us; we left a very obvious path for them to follow.”

  “If the Cerros traders don’t come, as you are expecting… what then?” Teshna asked.

  The Serpent Priest raised an eyebrow. “How well can you swim?” he asked. But before she could respond, he smiled and pointed to the north. “Our ride is here.”

  As Priest Quisac had anticipated, two large dugout canoes—with outriggers on the sides—rounded the bend; they carried four people in each canoe.

  The Serpent Priest turned to William and Teshna, looking quite serious; his intense silver eyes shifted between them. “This is a delicate situation. Allow me to make the transaction. They are shrewd traders, and they look to get the most of every opportunity. Collect your things and stand behind me as I speak to them.” He turned and waved his spear; it had a bright red cloth tied to its end to draw their attention from a distance.

  William and Teshna rushed back to the log where they had left their weapons and supplies. While collecting his things, William heard a high-pitched chirping noise in the distance. Had he not heard that exact sound before, he would have assumed it was the call of some tropical bird. His eyes grew wide and he grabbed Teshna’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “That chirping sound… it’s them… the feathered serpents! They made that noise when they chased me in the caverns.”

  When they rejoined Priest Quisac, the dugout canoes had already altered their course and were heading to the shore. The approaching Cerros traders had a much different appearance than the Mayans William had become accustomed to seeing within the confines of established kingdoms. Their skin was several shades darker, and they had big round heads—unlike Teshna, Priest Quisac, and other nobles he had come to know, whose foreheads sloped from their brow to their hairline. Their bodies were covered in swirly tribal tattoos, and they adorned themselves with jewelry made from shells and stones. Their headdresses resembled sea birds, which were further exaggerated by their wild hair that spiked out in all directions.

  As crazy as the men from Cerros looked, the flabbergasted looks on their faces indicated an even more startled reaction to what they were seeing from their perspective, as they reached the shore and pulled the canoes in. William glanced at Priest Quisac and Teshna, and it occurred to him how unkempt they had all become on their journey—dirty and splattered with blood. William realized that he had never seen Teshna in such a mess, for she was all about looking her best. She had lost her headdress along the way, as had William. Even though she had weaved her hair into a single, thick braid that reached down to her lower back, frizzy ends stuck out, giving her a somewhat frazzled appearance.

  The bulk of the odd looks from the Cerros traders fell William’s way. Besides for appearing even more beat up than his friends, his fair skin and blonde hair drew their attention like a circus clown would at a business convention.

  While the younger men stayed by the boats, holding them from drifting off, two elder traders approached. One man was short and stocky, with a plump belly. The other was unusually tall for a Mayan—nearly as tall as William—and he had the muscular frame of a body builder. He stepped forward with a frown, giving the Serpent Priest a long stare. “Priest Quisac, is it really you?” he asked, and let out a boisterous laugh that lifted the mood of the other traders; smiles abounded on their rust-colored faces. He gripped forearms with Priest Quisac, greeting him. “You have clearly had a bad day.” The tall Mayan glanced at William and Teshna. “What strange company you keep.”

  “Chief Jacobá, it is good to see you,” Priest Quisac said, with a slight bow.

  “What in the great ocean has happened to Bacalar?” Jacobá asked with big eyes. “We were so surprised when the priests of the Solar Cult did not come to trade with us. When we scouted the area, we discovered that Bacalar has been abandoned. We also found the remains of many who were burned in the huts.”

  The shorter man cleared his throat and spoke with a nasally voice, “With no disrespect to the great Serpent Priest, I must point out that our third crew has remained behind to scavenge what we can in Bacalar, following the trader’s code, bylaw seven… ‘of that which is abandoned is open to the finder.’”

  “Yes, Ecab,” Priest Quisac said, waving his hand like it didn’t matter. “I am aware of your bylaws. Take whatever you find that is useful to you.”

  “I am pleased we found you, Priest Quisac, for we enjoy the opportunity to trade with the Solar Cult,” Jacobá said. He leaned closer, speaking in a discreet voice that William could barely hear. “My woman has this… rash. Do you have something for that?”

  “The sea bass is delicious,” Ecab said, waving at his canoe; a man lifted up a large fish by the tail to show it off.

  “Chief Jacobá,” Priest Quisac said, holding his hand up like a traffic cop. “We request transportation… nothing more.”

  Jacobá stepped back with a confused look, seeming caught off guard by the request. While he moved off a few paces to chat with Ecab, Priest Quisac motioned for William and Teshna to approach.

  “Priest Quisac,” William whispered, “I heard the call of the feathered serpents in the jungle.”

  “Yes, I heard it too,” the Serpent Priest said.

  Jacobá returned, rubbing his chin in thought. “What you ask is a steep request. As you know, we do not favor the ruling elite. Trading is one thing, for we must make a living after all. But to provide assistance to the noble class… well, you can only imagine what our fellow traders would think of us for that. Clearly, the woman there is of noble descent,” Jacobá said, pointing at Teshna. He studied William. “As for this one… I do not even know what our bylaws would say about him. Your request would require much debate… perhaps a new bylaw would need to be written to account for such an unusual situation. That would be a very costly endeavor indeed.”

  “We only need an escort!” Teshna blurted.

  William gave her wrist a firm squeeze to silence her, for Priest Quisac had said that only he should speak.

  “Bacalar has been pillaged… you are injured and on the run,” Ecab said as if adding up the costs on a calculator in his head.

  “There is no time to barter over this, Jacobá,” Priest Quisac said with a firm voice. “Bylaw twenty two… ‘Assist the noble if the noble provides the desired assistance in return.’”

  “What… assistance… do you have to offer?” Jacobá asked.

  “We both know what you want, Jacobá… what your people have been asking for our help with for more tuns than I can count.”

  Jacobá’s eyes grew wide. He spoke with Ecab for a moment and then turned back. “You speak of the sea devil… the demon, Chac Uayab Xoc?”

  Priest Quisac nodded. “Take us with you now, and I will end your problems with the great demon shark.”

  “To satisfy the demon shark requires an impossible offering,” Ecab said. “A princess of royal lineage… we have no royal…” He cut his comment short and snapped his attention to Teshna.

  Priest Quisac stepped aside and motioned with his hand in a formal bow. “I present Princess Teshna of Dzibanché, daughter of the Great Jade Owl, sister to King Stone Frog. I will perform the ritual to summon the demon Chac Uayab Xoc and make t
he offering he demands. We will free your people of the sea demon’s hardships.”

  William’s eyes nearly sprang out of his head. He couldn’t believe what Priest Quisac was suggesting—to sacrifice Teshna to a killer shark! He was about to voice his opinion, but Teshna shook her head for him to remain quiet. There was really no choice. If they didn’t leave any minute, they would all be slaughtered by the approaching feathered serpents.

  With the transaction accepted, they joined the Cerros traders. Chief Jacobá ordered a last-minute shuffling of the occupants to balance the load better—or so he said. In the process, Jacobá put Teshna into his canoe, while Priest Quisac and William went with Ecab. William figured that Jacobá wanted to keep his prized princess under his watchful eyes.

  As darkness settled in, they shoved off. William stroked his oar in rhythm with the other men, moving the canoes along the current in the bay. A tremendous rustling noise came from the north, where they had just come from; it sounded like a herd of elephants stampeding through the jungle—followed by a haunting screech. They all looked back with startled faces, and then picked up the pace of their strokes.

  William sighed, realizing how close they had come to being caught by the feathered serpents. Yet their escape came with a costly price… to sacrifice Teshna to a demon shark! He turned and glowered at the Serpent Priest. “You have a lot to explain,” William muttered.

  Acknowledgements

  Much thanks to:

  My parents, Gary and Simone, and my sister, Barb, for encouraging my creativity throughout my life;

  Gaby and Margarita, for inviting me into their world in the Yucatán, and helping with the Spanish and Yucatec-Maya dialogue in the story;

  Señor Mario, for allowing me to stay all those weeks in his beautiful estate in Calderas, Mexico, where THE SERPENT PASSAGE came to life;

  Kimberly, for being my biggest fan, helping with so many rounds of editing, and pushing me to reach my goals;

  Ange, for coaching my writing along the way;

  My sons, Benny and Aaron, for making me laugh over the years;

  Friends and family who read earlier versions, for providing great feedback, and keeping me motivated;

  The artists from Cusco, whose music provided the perfect backdrop for writing about the ancient Maya.

  TODD ALLEN PITTS graduated from Marylhurst University with a degree in Communications, and he lives in Colorado. He was inspired to write THE SERPENT PASSAGE while exploring Mayan ruins and working as a scuba instructor in the Yucatán. His website is: www.toddallenpitts.com.