Sisimito I--Ox Witz Ha

by Henry W. Anderson

  “Who would do that?” demanded the Halach Uinic, loudly. He looked at his own hands and frowned then his eyes stormed towards Molly.

  “Do the missing thumbs trouble you, my Nephew?”

  I looked at Molly. I did not know how much of the conversation she could follow, but I saw her turn her hands inward and press them against her body.

  “Yes! The missing thumbs trouble me. Past happenings that have become stories and songs can be dangerous weapons when mixed with treachery and war,” acknowledged the Halach Uinic. “In times like those, stories and songs can breed fears that become powerful truths in the minds of a credulous people.”

  “Our stories and songs are more than legends, Sak Witzil Baah. They are built on facts. You know that, but, at times, you choose to ignore them as those beliefs do not always fit in with the changes you wish to bring about. Earlier, as your Runner briefed me, he stated that you had an encounter with Xwáay Chikoop when Kinich Ahau was still brilliant in Kaán.”278 He paused. “Anyway, enough of that for now, but we should continue this later. You must be tired and there’s much to do. First, I suggest you find your favorite bench in your steam bath and relax. I will see that you have food and drink. But before we go, if it pleases you, Nephew, I want to look at the strangers your guard briefed me on, as you had ordered him to do … especially the woman without thumbs … and, may I warn, Nephew,” he lowered his voice, “your priests will constantly remind our citizens and reinforce their prophecies about the evil they say is coming, anyway they can. The fact that you have brought a stranger without thumbs into our city will play directly into their hands.”

  The Halach Uinic shook his head and stared at the ground, in deep thought, and Chekaj K’inich approached me with a smile, not of welcome, but of curiosity. “A stranger who speaks our language but doesn’t know our customs.” He placed one hand on his chin. He was about the same height as the Halach Uinic, had a good muscular body, a soldier’s body, was handsome, had dark eyes … I felt pain in my chest and I took in a deep breath. He reminded me of Bas. “Hm,” he continued. “Tall. Strange indeed … and your dress. How different is your dress. Not made by artisans, to be sure.” He laughed. “Are you a spy?” he asked, bending his head and looking down at us. “And, the woman. Her skin burns. Certainly, not from our kingdom … or of any kingdom I have visited. Her language … Is it like ours?”

  “Her language is not like mine,” I replied. Then, in order to take the focus off Molly, I stood and looking directly at him I added, “I am no spy.” My guard raised his hand as if to hit me or force me back down to the road, but Chekaj K’inich held up his hand.

  “Are you insolent or ignorant?” He stared at me. I did not answer. “Probably both. I am the Batab279 of the city of Ox Witz Ha, Wi’k’an to the Halach Uinic, who is actually the Ajawinel. When someone of your estate must speak to me, they do not look directly into my eyes. That honor is reserved for Nobles, like me.” The Batab was dressed in a white loincloth, but his body was covered in an elaborate red cape reaching to his knees, front and back, and adorned with white glyphs I did not understand. His headdress was very elaborate, with multicolored plumes falling backward against his back, held in place by a headband made from jaguar pelt.

  “I am a free man, not a servant or slave,” I asserted, continuing to look directly at the Batab. “In the kingdom I come from, we are all free men. We look directly into the eyes of those we address.”

  “Then Pusilhá must have changed,” countered the Halach Uinic, a brief smile on his lips. “You did say you were from Pusilhá.” I immediately realized my comment was a mistake. “But your idea about ‘free men’ is an interesting thought.”

  “My Nephew would welcome such thoughts,” uttered the Batab, shaking his head.

  A glowering man stepped forward, dressed in a white loincloth and a white cape that covered his back down to his knees. The cape was trimmed in red but was not heavily adorned. He wore a white headband with a red insignia at the forehead and around his neck was a large jade necklace. “These prisoners have been several k’iins with the Halach Uinic and yet have not learned their place.” He spoke angrily. “Perhaps, once again, your Nephew is being soft, Batab. Or, is it that you also have become soft in your old age and do not correct and guide him. His Achalal, Knot Ajaw, whom you also served before he made his journey to Xibalba, did not turn away from our sacred traditions and laws.”

  “Ahau Can Mai.280 Speak not the name of Knot Ajaw in my presence. I pray you, watch your mouth and go back to your conspiring with the gods,” commanded the Halach Uinic.

  The priest reddened under his brown skin. “No insult meant, Halach Uinic. But war and evil draw near and you still continue to ignore the prophecies of your priests. You were warned that your priests have seen the arrival of evil in the stars and that arrival would bring turmoil and destruction upon your people, our citizens. Yet, you continue to toss aside all that is sacred to your lineage and your society. Death and destruction are now upon us. Already, your citizens are fleeing the outskirts into the city, fearing for their lives. They desert their homes. Huts have burned, leaving no ashes. Trees are burnt to ashes, yet still stand. The koolnáals abandon their kools. The q’än-jal281 dries up and dies between sunset and sunrise. The Kingdom crowds Ox Witz Ha, asking for help. You passed through Tipú on your way here and have seen the power of evil. All of Tipú’s citizens are dead except for three who found their way here, Tlanextic, Tlazohtlaloni, and Huitzilihuitl.” He glared at us. “And you, where were you, My Ajawinel? Out on a hunting party … gathering strange and dangerous prisoners.”

  “Be quiet, Ahau Can Mai, or I’ll have your tongue,” warned the Halach Uinic, darkly. “These two insignificant strangers may or may not be prisoners. That decision is at my discretion. They strayed from their home and are lost and it’s just a coincidence that we encountered them. They were in danger and we rescued them. That is all.” He turned away from the head-priest. “Ah Cuch Cabs!282 What can you tell me?”

  The three remaining men, dressed only in short skirts, arm bands and necklaces, looked at each other. Two indicated to the other to proceed and he stepped out. “Halach Uinic. Ah Holpop.283 Since last night, there have been many reports of slaughter in the outlying kools and housing complexes and the savagery continued all through the night. Our spies have been briefing us on an advance of Warriors from Maxam and we sent out scouts and they have confirmed this. Initially, we thought that the attacks were by raiding parties preceding the main force, their purpose being to scare and cause panic among our citizens. But, My Ajawinel, our scouts assure us that the main force from Maxam is still a k’iin away and no raiding parties have been seen in two k’iins. Our citizens await nightfall with terror in their hearts.”

  “Our spies have been wrong before,” responded the Halach Uinic as he lowered his head, in profound thought. “But our scouts are Warriors of great trust. They will not be mistaken.”

  “This cruelty has nothing to do with the advancing armies of Maxam. It is the evil rightly predicted by your priests that you, Halach Uinic, fail to believe. You think our prophecies are out of the mouth of charlatans,” argued the Ahau Can Mai, bitterly. “As you have grown older, you have turned away from our beliefs, those given to us by Itzamná himself when he created U Wach Ulew.284 At times, you mock Kukulcán, the very god that protects your Nim-q’ij Lineage. This may be a sign that Kukulcán hesitates, may not protect your bloodline any more. You are also Ah Holpop and you are obligated to protect your Nim-q’ij Lineage, consolidate its power. You must honor Kukulcán and make sacrifice. The great Feathered Serpent, Kukulcán, is angry and needs to be appeased.”

  “What would you have me do, Priest?” asked the Halach Uinic, raising his head and looking at the priest with contempt. “How many sacrifices do you want? One hundred? One thousand? From what I’ve seen and been told, there are still many of our citizens lying unburied on the out- skirts of this city, being eaten by ch’oms while you and your priests p
ray and prophesy. Even though they are only the domestics and koolnáals, don’t they deserve a proper burial too? But then I suppose the gifts they bring to you are so inconsequential that you do not care to prepare them for their journey to the Underworld. There will be no more deaths by sacrifice while we wait to meet the attackers from Maxam. Isn’t there enough blood lost … to be lost? Yes, Ahau Can Mai, blood is lost if blood falls on the sacbeob on which we walk, on the courtyard, or to the floor of the temple. It nurtures nothing. Do you need to continuously wet your sacrificial altars with the blood of my subjects … scarce the blood has dried? Hasn’t all this blood been enough to saturate Kukulcán’s lust for blood?”

  The Ahau Can Mai’s eyes burned into the Halach Uinic. “Your sacrilege will doom your Nim-q’ij Lineage and the Kingdom of Ox Witz Ha. Instruct your Nephew and Ajawinel, Batab.”

  The Batab whispered into the ear of the Halach Uinic who turned to look at Molly and me. He shook his head, determinedly.

  The Ahau Can Mai glared at us with hostility and fear. Suddenly, his eyes grew large and he cried out, “Look at her hands. Look at her hands. There are no thumbs.” I saw Molly quickly put her hands under her torn blouse … near her breasts.

  “Oh fok!” I murmured. I knew Molly was terrified; yet, her countenance was expressionless.

  The Ahau Can Mai swung his face towards the Halach Uinic. He raised his arms into the air, crying out, “Look what you have done? You have seen it fit to bring those two strangers to Ox Witz Ha and the woman has no thumbs. She is a consort of the evil one, Mahanamatz, and you, in your Nim-q’ij Wisdom, have chosen to bring her … them here. You should have sacrificed them where you found them. Evil has now come to Ox Witz Ha, brought by you, the Halach Uinic, the Ajawinel, yourself. You, Ajawinel K’an II, have fulfilled the prophecy of death, destruction, damnation … doom.” The Ahau Can Mai trembled in anger and fright. Wrath foamed spittle at his mouth and his eyes jerked backwards into his head as he sweated profusely.

  “Oh fok,” I heard myself exclaim, very loudly.

  “Nim-q’ij Guards,” shouted the Halach Uinic. “Escort the Ahau Can Mai to his altar before I run him through with my bate’. He is close to being guilty of treason.” Our two guards approached the head-priest, one standing on each side.

  The Ahau Can Mai brought down his hands and looked intensely at the Halach Uinic. “And you let the prisoners stand free, Halach Uinic. I warn you that it is only by their deaths upon the altar that impending doom may be stemmed. Lahun Chan, Achalal of Kinich Ahau, looks at us from the evening sky. He is now especially malevolent and dangerous and he observes your loss of allegiance to Kukulcán. Don’t further precipitate his wrath upon us, Halach Uinic. Sacrifice the evil strangers before it is too late.”

  The Halach Uinic waved his hand and the two Nim-q’ij Guards started to usher the priest away.

  “Nim-q’ij Escorts will not be necessary, Halach Uinic,” babbled the Ahau Can Mai, walking away absolutely incensed and terrorized. The two Nim-q’ij Guards looked at the Halach Uinic.

  “See him to his temple then return,” asserted the Halach Uinic.

  “You shouldn’t anger the Ahau Can Mai and your priests, Nephew,” advised the Batab. “They remain powerful. Also, we do not speak privately. Your Warriors, and others, they see the confrontation. The word will spread.”

  “The word will say that my Nim-q’ij Guards escorted the Ahau Can Mai away. That is all.” K’an II was quiet for a moment, thinking, then he continued. “Their power lies in incantations and false prophecies. They rule by putting the fear of the gods in my citizens. I rule by the power of my armies and the prosperity of my city and its citizens. Unlike K’uxaj, I have our young men trained in a standing army so that they can fight with honor and strength; so that our scribes write about their valor and their deeds in poetry and song. I do not suddenly awaken with thoughts of war and assemble militias of untrained youths and men and send them to their deaths. So far, neither my army nor our prosperity has failed me, my family, or my citizens.” The Batab was troubled as he looked at his nephew. “Have I ever failed you, Chekaj K’inich?” asked the Halach Uinic.

  One of the Ah Cuch Cabs who had not yet spoken approached. “My Ajawinel … Halach Uinic. Why not give the priests the prisoners? The sacrifice will appease the priests whether it mollifies the gods or not” … he shrugged his shoulders … “and the fact that you have agreed to the sacrifice will not allow them to further influence your citizens. We are at war, and that is enough.”

  The Halach Uinic glanced at me and I saw no hate in his eyes. Yet, I knew that hate was probably the least of reasons that would put Molly and me on the sacrificial altar. He smiled in a strange way. I frowned.

  “Fok,” he said. I stared at him not believing what I had heard. “I do not know that word,” he continued. “It’s a strange word that you have used … often. Is it a good word, Ke’kchi?”

  I looked at him. Taken aback, I opened my mouth to speak then stopped.

  “Then is it a bad word, Ke’kchi?”

  Molly looked at me and I could see a smile almost breaking.

  “What’s the matter Ke’kchi? Has the priest frightened you so much that your tongue has rolled itself into the back of your mouth?”

  “Both good and bad, Halach Uinic,” I replied. “It’s just a word.”

  He chuckled then smiled, aware of my hesitancy. “Does it refer to something you do?”

  “It can, Halach Uinic. It does.”

  He laughed aloud. “Ah! It’s one of those troublesome words.” He nodded his head. “It can mean something good or something bad. Fok is like my priests. They can be good or bad for my citizens. Good or bad for me. But as I said, Ke’kchi, you use the word often. There must be something good about it why you keep repeating it.” He shook his head. “The world should get rid of all confusing words … all confusing priests … all foks. We’ll talk more about the word fok another k’iin.”

  I was not sure what I had done. Molly’s face was red as she tried to hold in her laughter. It was amazing and a good thing that even when in great danger, Molly was able to see humor in a situation, especially, if it were at my expense.

  The Halach Uinic turned to the Ah Cuch Cab who had addressed him. “I will not be told what to do with my prisoners.” He shook his head again. “I tire. It has been a rather unusual hunting trip and a most unexpected and unusual meeting of my Nim-q’ij Advisors … on a sacbeob on the outskirts of the Nim-q’ij City of Ox Witz Ha.”

  The Nim-q’ij Guards who had been sent to escort away the angry Ahau Can Mai had quickly returned and K’an II addressed one of them. “My faithful Nim-q’ij Guard. Go and inform the Chichu’ Ajawinel that I have arrived and to have the servants prepare my steam bath … and a wide bench, big enough for the Chichu’ Ajawinel and me. With many mats.” He lifted his head and laughed. The guard bowed, smiling knowingly, and was quickly disappearing towards the city. The Halach Uinic put his arms around his wi’k’an. “Let’s walk slowly, the rest of the way, Batab. The only thing I miss on my hunting trips is that after the heat of the hunt is finished, I would like to have my wife in my hammock with me. But which hunter takes his wife on a hunting trip, eh Batab?” As they spoke, the remainder of the group fell behind in deep deliberations and almost silent conversations. I pulled Molly over to me, intent on keeping us as close to the Halach Uinic as possible, trying to hear what he was saying.”

  “The prisoners?” asked Chekaj K’inich. “What will you do with them? You seem to take their presence here too lightly.”

  “Oh Wi-k’an! Don’t tell me that the priests have gotten to you too. They have ruled us for many hundreds of years. The time has come for us to divide the priests in half. One half must deal with the things of the gods. The second half must divorce itself from the gods and deal with the things of man, of mathematics and science, new methods of farming, and they must teach us those things.”

  “You speak dangerously, Sak Witzil Baah. I fear for yo
u and I fear for our Nim-q’ij Lineage. I fear even more for what these two strangers will bring upon us.”

  The Halach Uinic was silent. When he spoke, his voice was somber. “The priests tell us that one set of dimensions unify the natural and supernatural world. They insist that the physical world is also part of the supernatural, the spiritual and the extrasensory. I see us. I see the animals. I see the plants. Yet, I do not see their deities or the life force the priests say animates everything. I wonder if their beliefs are only a means of maintaining their power over us. I see the future and what I see terrorizes me. We are not preparing for the future. There are kingdoms at distances further than the fastest hawk can fly in a k’iin. Yet, we know nothing of who lives beyond the kingdoms we know … beyond where the tired hawk perches after his long flight. In our known world, each Nim-q’ij lineage builds its own province, its own cities. Our population continues to grow. Even our wars and our sacrifices do not stem the growth and the land, like our peasants, grows restless. Because we do not replenish the land, there are areas where only blighted crops grow. We tear down the pristine jungle to make new kools. Soon the jungles too will not be able to give us new kools. With no jungles there are no animals to hunt. What will an Ajawinel do in his spare time, Wi-k’an?” He laughed. “Unlike the koolnáal, we take everything and give back little except the incantations and incense of our priests … and, of course, blood. I try to change our farming methods, but the priests insist that we bathe the seeds in blood. My methods are opposed even though they are successful. There has to be change or else we will not survive. No thanks to the priests and the gods that some of our youthful scholars still have open minds.”

  “But the changes you think of, Nephew? They are dangerous. You are curtailing the power of the priests. They will resist. You are trying to dismantle a dynasty that has existed for thousands of years, even before our Nim-q’ij Lineage took power … and the Lineage before us, for that matter.”