That was when Yohl Ik’nal foresaw the attack upon Lakam Ha, a vision that aided her city to prepare and defeat the attackers.
Was something similar brewing? Sak K’uk had not been attending Popol Nah sessions, but heard about them from her father and husband. Even so, the network of informers used by Yohl Ik’nal, following the example of her father Kan Bahlam, had deteriorated under the poor leadership of Aj Ne Ohl Mat. Information about the plots and intrigues of neighboring cities was spotty at best. Usihwitz had extricated itself from Lakam Ha’s dominion, and relations with other cities in B’aakal polity were growing more distant. Tribute had declined, and Aj Ne’s chumtum-stone binding ceremony at the period end of 13 katuns (9.8.13.0.0) had been lack-luster, not as powerful and compelling as prior ceremonies by his predecessors.
She queried Hun Pakal in one of their long evenings together. Sipping warm cacao, father and daughter leaned close on adjoining mats and spoke in hushed tones.
“What information comes forth from Popo’ and Yokib and B’aak? Hear you anything of Usihwitz?” she asked.
“Ah, it is not such as the times of your esteemed mother, Sacred Ancestor Yohl Ik’nal, wife of my heart,” he lamented. “Our informers are few and not well connected. Hix Chapat of Popo’ seems to forget his obligations, or even that his sister is married to our ruler. He basks in peace and abundance but is meager in tribute. Without firmness bordering upon threat, I doubt this will change. It is rumored that Yokib’s ruler plays host to traders and ahauob from Kan, more so recently but we cannot obtain specifics. B’aak on the far western plains seems removed from such plotting and remains our most firm ally. As for Usihwitz, our sources have been silenced for some time. It is my assessment that they are courting alliance with Kan.”
“And gloating in the absence of repercussions for flaunting their tribute obligations,” Sak K’uk added glumly.
“Just so, and reveling in their defeat of Lakam Ha in the ballgame. We should have sent a foray against them right away to remedy their attack on us. This I still do not understand, except that Yohl Ik’nal was becoming more ill, and must have thought leaving the polity in peace was best.” It pained Hun Pakal to offer any criticism of his wife’s decisions.
“Hmmm. She had her reasons, I am certain.”
Sak K’uk told her father about the encounter with Hohmay, and the woman’s wild curses at the end.
“These things are much troubling me,” she admitted. “Is there any way to find out if other cities have intentions against us?”
“I will try to send scouts for information, though it will not be easy in the current climate of the Popol Nah. Perhaps surreptitiously, if I can find reliable men.”
Sak K’uk sighed.
“If only I had mother’s vision,” she murmured.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as dark rain clouds gathered in the east. Sak K’uk dabbed her sweaty face and signaled the fanner to more vigorous action. The rainy season was beginning when humidity became unbearable, keeping clothing constantly damp and skin covered with a fine wet film. Only the sudden gusts of wind blowing rain clouds toward the city provided momentary coolness. Soon the sky would unleash a deluge upon mountains and buildings alike, cascades of water pouring down pyramid steps and across plazas, waterfalls burbling down hillsides and rushing to swell the many rivers coursing through Lakam Ha.
She hoped Pakal would arrive before the rain. He was released temporarily from the Temple of the High Priest, given a short time to rest from training and to visit his family. It was difficult for her, knowing that her young son must endure so much discipline. But she also knew that sending him for training was the right decision. She missed him immensely, missed his sunny disposition and endearing presence. Would the rigorous shamanic training change him too much?
Just as the sky darkened overhead and fat raindrops began to splatter on the plaza, she heard his rapid footsteps in the portico. He burst into her chamber before the steward, who managed a breathy announcement from behind.
Sak K’uk opened her arms to embrace her son, noting with surprise that he seemed even taller. His presence made the entire chamber seem brighter. After a long hug, she held him at arm's length and examined his appearance. In these humid conditions he was wearing only a short loincloth, chest bare except for a jade pendant. Pakal’s long and sinuous limbs promised that he would be unusually tall. Already he had good muscle development with large hands and feet.
Pakal smiled broadly into his mother’s eyes, and she once again appreciated why calling him “K’inich” or sun-faced was perfect. His tilted almond eyes held a warm glow hinting of fire as his large, perfectly shaped teeth sparkled. Although his face was long and narrow with pronounced high cheeks offsetting a large arched nose, his countenance projected brightness and light. Just as K’in Ahau-Sun Lord brought heat and life to the Middleworld, this child Pakal the Shield of the Sun enlivened his surroundings.
“Beloved, I have missed you so!” Sak K’uk exclaimed. “Tell me everything. What you are learning, what you are doing, how it is going for you.”
They sat on mats as rain pounded the roof and plaza, bringing a pleasant coolness. Attendants brought maize cakes and fruit drinks, while fanners continued their duties.
“It is most remarkable, Mother,” Pakal began. “This world we live in every day, that seems ordinary, is actually full of magic. Hiding behind the surface are wonderful things! I am learning about them and how to see them – which you cannot do with ordinary eyes. Pasah Chan has taught me how to change the way I see, how to change my energy and consciousness so I can communicate with nature, animals, plants, birds, waters, even the rocks. Only a few days ago I was able to bring a small deer to eat from my hand. It was able to overcome its fear.”
“How did you do that? The forest deer are very timid and fearful.”
“It is done with a meditation technique,” he explained. “I must become perfectly quiet in body, mind and emotions. Every part of my being must be in harmony, and also I must attain harmony with the forest and plants. It is becoming one of them, so the deer sees me as another growing thing in nature. Then the fruit in my hand is like fruit hanging from a plant, and the deer feels safe to take it.”
“That is so, that I can imagine,” Sak K’uk murmured.
“But what is most important, Mother,” Pakal added, “is to be in a state of complete peace. No shred of anger or aggression or tension can be present in your being. If there is any, the deer will sense it and will be frightened and run away.”
He nodded solemnly, almost to himself. Sak K’uk frowned slightly as she wondered if teaching Pakal to be so peaceful was good for a future ruler who would face opposition and potential attacks. But she sensed no weakness or reticence in his energy; on the contrary, he felt to her exceptionally confident and strong.
“What else have you done? Tell me again about calling the wind and rain,” she entreated.
Pakal dutifully recounted these stories, emphasizing the necessary states of consciousness to interact with deities of the elements. Sak K’uk basked in shameless pride and genuine wonderment over her son’s accomplishments. It mattered not that only servants were present to listen, for she knew it was the talk of the city. For her, it was enough simply to be with him, to share moments from his life, to revel in his presence.
When these stories were finished, she asked what came next in his training.
“In the coming time, Pasah Chan will prepare me for entering the Sacred Mountain Cave,” Pakal said.
“The K’uk Lakam Witz?” Sak K’uk recalled childhood stories of her mother Yohl Ik’nal doing vision quests at the mouth of this cave, high on a southern peak bordering the city.
“Already have I done vigil at K’uk Lakam Witz,” Pakal replied. “This is a different cave, one that is more difficult to find. It is a cave with a hidden opening that only those capable of attaining a certain state of consciousness can find. It is called the ‘Cave of Immortal Wisdom’ and leads in
to Xibalba. Only when all fears have been overcome, even fear of death, can you enter this cave.”
“A cave into Xibalba?” Sak K’uk was alarmed. Surely her son was not old enough to begin encounters with the Underworld. This was dangerous territory, only skilled shamans attempted to work with Death Lords.
“Just so. One who has not overcome fear of death cannot be truly alive. This is an important step, Mother. Remember that the Hero Twins had to face and outwit the Death Lords in order to resurrect their father the Maize God, Hunahpu. If I want to have the most advanced skills, I too must face Death Lords and bring to life the creative force of resurrection within myself. To embody the Maize God for our people.”
“But now? You are so young to take this advanced training. Might it not be best to wait until you undergo transformation rites into adulthood?”
“Pasah Chan will decide when the time is right for me.” Pakal reached to place his hand upon his mother’s arm, radiating compassion and soothing her with his touch. “You are worried, this I can understand. There is certain timing for entering the Cave of Immortal Wisdom. It only opens one time each year, and only for those who can find its entrance. An enormous amount of spiritual energy is needed to open this entrance. My next phase of training will be to build up my capacity for this enormous energy. Both body and mind must be prepared, because the energy moves like lightning through blood and nerves, and can cause serious burning if not channeled properly. Pasah Chan will not let this happen. He will not have me attempt this cave until he is convinced I am ready.”
“So it might not be this year?” Sak K’uk felt shaky simply thinking about the risk Pakal would be taking.
“Possibly not. Possibly yes. I do not know the time of opening, but from the planned training it is many moons away. Ah, Mother, through this many things will become accessible to me. Through the Cave of Immortal Wisdom I gain access to many masters, many ancestors who have become deities of our people: Itzamna, Xaman Ek, Ah K’in, Ix Uc, K’ukulkan. From them I will learn much wisdom.”
“Yes, yes I see.” Sak K’uk took a deep breath and tried to appear at ease. She had brought on all this training; she bore the responsibility if harm came to Pakal.
Pakal smiled playfully and stroked her arm reassuringly.
“Do not worry, Mother. It was shown to me by Unen K’awill, Baby Jaguar, that I am destined for these things. He told me in the Sak Nuk Nah – White Skin House where I visit with him whenever I have time. You remember our visits there, how he would play with me? He told me a secret; only those who are pure in heart can enter this cave. So if my heart is not correct, not purified, I will not be able to enter. And if it is pure, then I am ready to enter. All is in alignment in the domain of our Deities. ”
SAK K’UK/MUWAAN MAT – III
Baktun 9 Katun 8 Tun 14 –
Baktun 9 Katun 9 Tun 0
(610 CE – 613 CE)
1
Uc Ayin had to admit that he was no longer a young man. Although the passage of years had been kind to his body, which still remained slender and straight, it took a toll upon his mind. Somehow, his life felt unfulfilled. It was not that he failed in attaining goals, for he had few of these. Nor that hopes had been dashed, for the only strong hope he could recall was the desire to stay alive. And while he was undeniably living, his seemed a pointless life. He regarded his status mercilessly. Here was an aging courtier in the city beloved of the Triad Deities, blessed with peace and prosperity, in the upper echelons of artists in the ruler Aj Ne Ohl Mat’s intimate circle, who had done absolutely nothing significant in his life.
Except to survive the traitorous attack made by Ek Chuuah and warriors from Usihwitz. Nearly every other man involved in the insurrection had been killed. The insurrection leader Yaxun Zul had been spared, obviously part of a greater strategy to co-opt the rebels and keep the Bahlam family in power, since his son was quickly married to the ruler’s daughter.
Uc Ayin had no delusions about his survival during the attack if he had been in Lakam Ha. He would not now be contemplating his lack of fulfillment; he would be cavorting with the Death Lords in Xibalba. Although he was not among the close circle of plotters, just having knowledge of their plans was enough implication to cost his life. Anticipating the worst, he decided to visit his sister in Sak Tz’i, a short distance southeast along the Chakamax River. There he remained for two moon cycles, giving time for Lakam Ha to re-settle after the attack.
His sister Manik now wanted him to come for another visit. Only two days earlier a messenger arrived bearing her request, a matter she considered urgent. Her health was declining and he felt obliged to leave immediately. Perhaps time away from the royal chambers and vacuous arts of Aj Ne Ohl Mat would clear his head and bring perspective on his discontent.
Travel during the rainy season was always a challenge, and quite risky when heavy rains cascaded down mountains to swell rivers into angry, boiling serpents hungry to devour trees and boats alike. The long canoe’s paddler waited until the rains slackened and rivers fell from turbulent heights. They embarked early while mists hovered over the plains and draped Lakam Ha’s mountaintops. The first day was spent on the Michol River that passed just below Lakam Ha, followed by a day over land through a well-cleared jungle trail to connect with the Chakamax River to the south. Another four days were necessary traveling with the current, past the small village of Nututun to reach Sak Tz’i.
Seated on a bench in the canoe with a deerskin canopy overhead, Uc Ayin was reasonably protected from the constant drizzle that persisted during their voyage. He wrapped a damp cotton shawl more tightly around his shoulders, shivering in the cool breeze. The hard wooden bench bruised his thin buttocks and his toes had congealed into numbness. Feeling perfectly miserable matched his dour mood. The river swirled in gray eddies and shimmered in slate expanses, the sky echoed grayness with its low cloud cover and intractable rain. Dripping water and the rhythmic slap of oars were the only sounds, not even a bird or monkey chattered to break the gloomy monotony.
Days of seamless repetition on the river gave small impetus to Uc Ayin’s life review. He found himself always in the same loop of what he was beginning to identify as self-pity. It was not his fault he was born a two-spirit, xib’il-x-ch’uup, known among the Maya as a male-female. The two-spirits comprised a third gender group, different from men or women that blended qualities of both sexes. Children were identified early as two-spirits because of their interest in dress and activities of the opposite sex. Most had an androgynous appearance and character, and often took sexual partners from both sexes. Ultimately, sexual preference was based on their primary gender identity.
Maya society clearly recognized and accepted this third gender, based on a well-established place in mythology. Primordial and creator deities were often androgynous, the “changing ones” with special shamanic powers who brought many inventions and technologies for the benefit of humanity. The androgynous persona of the Maize God, who represented First Father and wore feminine symbols of the net skirt, earth associations, flowers and ix-woman face with the Ik’ marking, created a powerful context for mixed-gender expressions. The Moon Goddess, while feminine, was often conflated with symbols of the Maize God. Twins often represent the combined male-female qualities, repeating the Maize-Sun God and Moon Goddess complementarities, seen in the Popol Vuh creator couple Xpiyakok and Xumkane and the Hero Twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque who became the Sun and Moon. Two-spirit humans often received their powers from one of these androgynous deities.
Uc Ayin regretted that even in this, his two-spirit nature, he had not attained anything of note. He was not called to spiritual leadership, possessed no shamanic abilities, was not a seer or prophet, not even a dream or vision interpreter. In the arts he had a modicum of talent, both with poetry and vase painting, but when these abilities were carefully scrutinized he had to admit his products were mediocre.
His life as a male-female two spirit was of the mundane type. With an inward grimace
, he reflected again that the “shameless couple” dance often depicted on pottery or murals perfectly captured his character: An old man cavorts with what appears to be a young woman wearing an entirely feminine costume, but without breasts. The younger is a male two-spirit enacting a woman’s role. The explicitly sexual postures and leering expression of the old man make it clear theirs is a profane act, having nothing to do with spiritual or transformational ceremonies.
Although this cross-gender role was accepted within Maya society, Uc Ayin felt a subtle discrimination. He had never married, finding he preferred male sexual partners exclusively. This set him apart, for he had no family and children as did most two-spirits. And because his life had produced nothing particularly useful for others, nor had he received much artistic recognition, he perceived a muted judgment among his peers.
Dissatisfaction crept more deeply into his bones with the evening chill.
Camping on the wet banks along the river further darkened his mood. The small campfire built by the paddler barely warmed his hands, and the cold maize cakes offered little satisfaction. His sister needed to produce a very good reason for requesting this visit.
The next day the canoe arrived at the modest town of Sak Tz’i as daylight began to wane. Paying the paddler, Uc Ayin hoisted his damp pack over his shoulder and trudged up the bank along muddy paths lined by wooden-walled, thatched huts until he reached the central plaza with surrounding stone buildings and a modest pyramid temple. Across the plaza he recognized his sister’s form hurrying toward him. After their initial embrace and greeting, he was surprised to see how she had aged. She clasped his arm and led him to her modest dwelling several lanes distant from the plaza.
The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) Page 8
