When the Halach Uinic was still a young man and unsure of his destiny, he had travelled to Palenque to sit at the feet of the great Lacandon shaman and elder, the t’o’ohil Chan K’in. At this time Chan K’in was already more than a hundred years old, and he had seen many things. The Halach Uinic had spoken to Chan K’in of the coming of the Great Change – of his fears, and of his lack of understanding about the event.
At first, Chan K’in, chewing on a large cigar as was his habit, had replied only in the negative. ‘The land is weary and must be destroyed before Hachäkyum, the Creator, can revitalize it. The quetzal bird no longer flies. Men cut down the forests and no longer respect nature. The god Mensabak no longer speaks to me.’
The Halach Uinic, being only a young man at the time, had refused to accept this negativity as Chan K’in’s last word, and he had pressed the old one for further details.
After some hesitation, Chan K’in had gone on to tell the Halach Uinic that if this coming event were approached in the right way – through the ritual of atonement, perhaps – the Great Change might not be as bad as he had at first made out, but might instead give birth to a new Great Cycle of Time. If it was approached in the wrong way, however – through anger and greed – this would foretell the world’s final destruction. Such an event would affect all people throughout the world, and not just the Maya. This fact, Chan K’in had said, must be taken into account.
The Halach Uinic now drew himself up and addressed the assembly in a louder voice than normal. ‘It is for this reason that I intend to step down from my position as both Halach Uinic and Ah Kin Mai to make way for someone better qualified to pass on the word of Hunab Ku. A non-Maya, perhaps. Someone more competent to speak beyond our borders. This is my decision.’
77
There was a hiss from the crowd, as of a vast expulsion of breath.
The Halach Uinic turned his back on his people and made as if he would hide himself amongst the other priests. But the priests pushed forward and gathered themselves around him. No word was said, but the Halach Uinic was left with no option but to return to his place at the head of the assembly. He lowered his head and nodded, as if a burden had been placed on his shoulders, and a tumpline attached to his forehead with which to carry it.
Without pausing for thought, you chose this exact moment to walk to the very forefront of the pyramid. You stood beside the Halach Uinic and you looked out over the crowd.
These Maya were not your people, but you felt a kinship with them. Guarding their book had given you this feeling. As if the book, which you were unable to read, nevertheless held within it the distilled spirit of the people you saw below you.
‘The Halach Uinic says that this book is mine. And that I may do with it as I please. That it is worth great sums of money to the gringos in the north, and that I will be a rich man when I sell it. I understand why he is doing this – why he is offering me this choice. But what the Halach Uinic says about the ownership of the book is not true. This book is not mine to give. For it is already yours.’ You drew yourself up, scared in case you had angered the priests. Scared that you had pushed yourself forward without merit.
The Halach Uinic opened one hand to you in a sign of encouragement. Then he moved the hand out in an arc to encompass the people below him.
You nodded. The Halach Uinic’s intentions were clear. He wished you to address his people.
‘Now I, too, must tell you a story.’ Your ears were hurting with the tension of your position. You had never in your life spoken to so many people at one time. In fact you had never spoken to more than a gathering of four. ‘Many, many years ago, one of your people was escaping from bad happenings here. What happenings, I do not know.’ You hesitated, unsure how to continue.
The Halach Uinic stepped forward to help you. ‘It was during the time of the Caste War between the Maya and the Yucatecos. This war occurred between 1847 and 1901. The Chilan protecting this book was the ak k’u hun – the “guardian of the sacred books”. He was caught up in the uprising at Valladolid, followed by the great revolt of the Maya people in the spring of 1848 and its aftermath. He writes all this on the back leaf of the book. Here. You can see.’
The Halach Uinic was excited – you could see the tension in his face. He was clearly moved, also, by the confidence the other priests had placed in him. He had been prepared to sacrifice his own position in order to give you the freedom to act as you saw fit. For this reason you realized that it was up to you to continue with the story, even though it was a difficult thing to do. Up to you to convince everybody here that the book was, indeed, rightly theirs – rightly what the Halach Uinic claimed it to be.
‘This Chilan was pursued by those who wished to steal the precious book in his charge. He fled as far as Veracruz. His enemies caught up with him there, and wounded him – wounded him so badly that he knew that he would soon die. He found my ancestor working in a clearing. With his last strength, he approached him. The father of my father’s father saw what the Chilan’s enemies had done to him and he felt sorry for this man, and hid him in his hut. He risked his life for this man. He was a good Catholic. He knew the parable of the Good Samaritan. When the Chilan was on the very verge of death, with no hope of survival, he told my ancestor of this book. Of its importance to the Maya. He asked my ancestor if he would swear an oath to guard this book until such time as our great volcano, the Pico de Orizaba, would choose to come alive again. Then he or his successors must then take this book to a special place and give it to those who were there. My ancestor did not wish to do this. He could not read. He did not know what the book might contain. It might have been evil. It might have contained magic. But the Chilan called upon him to honour the wishes of a dying man. This my grandfather had to do, according to the custom of my people. And the Chilan seemed a good man. Upon hearing my father swear the oath, the Chilan pricked himself with a thorn on the tongue, then on his cheek, his lower lip, and his ear. He wrote things in his own blood, both on the blank pages of the book, and on a separate leaf he had about his person. This leaf was a map.’ You held it up. ‘And this map took me to you. So you see, I have no right to the book. It is truly yours. Now that my task is done, you must let me return home to my mother and to my work. I have been away for far too long.’
78
‘Well stone me – we’ve got ourselves an honest-to-God ragged trousered philanthropist.’
Abi was tucked into the lee of one of the more extreme of the ruined buildings. It was situated outside the main Ek Balam tourist zone, on a raised tump, thick with ancient scatterings. Athame was standing beside him. The Glock was tucked into the back of Abi’s trousers, disguised by the Guayabera shirt that he had bought for exactly that purpose in Veracruz. Athame was carrying her Walther P4 in the backpack she wore at all times. Given her diminutive size, the backpack made her look like Dopey, from Walt Disney’s Snow White.
‘I don’t think you should do this.’
‘Do what?’
‘Go against Madame, our mother’s, wishes.’
‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, Athame. And I don’t intend to blunder into that crowd over there, six-shooters blazing. I’ve got a more subtle approach in mind.’
‘She could simply cut us all loose. Without a penny to our names.’
‘So what? We can always steal. We’ve spent the past fifteen years being trained in every damned knavery known to man. And for what? To baby-sit the man who killed our brother? And the policeman who harried him to death? Calque and Sabir aren’t leaving Mexico alive, I can tell you that much. And if I have to do them myself, I will.’
‘And Lamia?’
‘I know you’ve always had a soft spot for her, Athame, but she’s in with Sabir now. She’s given herself to him. And she’s not the sort of woman who goes off half-cocked, if you’ll forgive my pun. She burned her bridges back at the chateau, and as far as I’m concerned that puts her out of the running for Barbie Doll of the Year Award. If I get m
y hands on her I’m going to use her to wring whatever I can out of Sabir. And when I’m through with her, she dies. Straight into the cenote with the rest of them. Christ, she’ll have six men all to herself down there.’
‘You’re sick, Abi. You know that?’
‘Are you going to stand in my way when it comes to it?’
Athame shook her head. ‘No. She burned her bridges, as you said. But I won’t let you abuse her. You can use her, fine. Threaten Sabir all you want. But I won’t see her hurt more than necessary. We were sisters once, remember.’
‘Does she remember that, do you think? Does she think as kindly of you as you do of her? I doubt it somehow.’
Up on the pyramid, the Halach Uinic was making way for one of the other priests.
‘Looks like we’re about to get the straight guff from the mestizo’s book. This, I want to hear. Think what that damned thing’s worth, Athame. One of only four remaining Maya codices. And with an attribution, to boot.’
‘What do you mean, an attribution?’
‘The mestizo’s got a mother, hasn’t he? And she knows all about the book his family have been guarding for hundreds of years. We get hold of the thing and we can work on him through her. Cherchez la femme. Isn’t that what the English tell us we French say all the time? They’re right, of course. Achilles’s problem wasn’t with his heel. It was with Briseis. If he hadn’t fallen in love with her and lost the plot, he would have survived the Trojan campaign and probably lived to a wise old age. Instead he let that bastard Paris skewer him in the foot. The same thing is going to happen to Sabir. Only his foot will be the last one of his body parts I’ll focus on.’
‘Listen, Abi. The priest is starting to read from the book.’
‘I can’t wait. I love bedtime stories.’
79
The Chilan bowed first towards his master, the Halach Uinich, and then towards his audience. He raised the codex briefly to his forehead, and then kissed it. Carefully, even tenderly, he opened the manuscript and began to read.
‘I, Akbal Coatl – which the Spaniards would translate as “night serpent” – Chilan and ak k’u hun – which is priest and chief guardian of the sacred books – write this on the evening of the twelfth day of July in the year of our Lord 1562, which is the worst day the world has ever known. I write this to bear witness against Friar Diego de Landa, because such must be done. I write this in the last remaining of the Maya holy books, using the backs of the holy leaves, and for this blasphemy may Kukulcan, who is the true God, forgive me.
‘For three months now Friar de Landa has travelled throughout our country, a few days behind his soldiers, enforcing the orders of the Franciscan monks. As Provincial of the Franciscan order in the Yucatan, Friar de Landa has the full backing of the Judge of the High Court of Guatemala and the Confines, Tomás Lopéz. It must be added here that Judge Lopéz is also a friar of the Franciscan order, and that Judge Lopéz has directed, in this capacity, that any and all Maya towns still remaining outside the Franciscan remit be turned over instantly into Franciscan hands.
‘In addition, Judge Lopéz has given Friar de Landa full Imperial authority, using the Papal Bull exponi nobis as his justification, in respect of what is called “the regimentation of daily and social life”. Judge Lopéz also stipulates that any violations of the Friar’s rights in this matter, and all infringements by the native Indians in misguided support of their previous rights, “be punished as by the Inquisition”. Here is the full text of the Ordinances of the Royal Audience of the Confines, promulgated by Judge Lopéz in 1552:
“Coming from the Royal Audiencia in Guatemala, at the request of the Friars in Yucatan, and decreed for the conduct and treatment of the Indians.
In exercise of the power of our Emperor, vested in me, I command you, the caciques, chief men and people, as follows:
No cacique shall be absent from his town, save for the temporal or spiritual good, or as called by the padres, for over 50 days, on pain of loss of office.
The Indians must not live off in the forests, but come into the towns together, in good strong houses, under pain of whipping or prison.
To avoid difficulties in doctrination, no Indian shall change from one town to another without permission of the local Spanish authorities.
Since many of the chiefs and older men, in the respect they hold by their ancient descent, call the people into secret meetings to teach their old rites and draw them from the Christian doctrine, in their weakness of understanding, all such actions and meetings are prohibited.
The caciques shall not hold gatherings, nor go about at night, after the bells are sounded for the souls in purgatory.
Every cacique or chief of a town shall carry in mind the list of all the people. Every man of the common people absenting himself from his town for over 30 or 40 days, save in public service or with the padres, even with permission from his cacique, shall be punished by 100 blows and 100 days in prison.
Every town, within two years, must have a good church, and one only, to which all may come. Nor may any cacique build any other church than the one, under pain of 100 blows.
Every town shall have schools where the Indians shall be taught the necessity of baptism, without which no one can enjoy God. The schools shall be built by the town, and the caciques shall compel them thereto, in the form and manner required by the padres, and at places designated by them.
On the days for doctrination, one shall go through the towns, bearing a cross and cloth, to call all people together, where all shall gather in order, those of each town by themselves.
If any one, after having heard the holy word and left his false doctrines, shall return to these, he shall be imprisoned to await the due punishment to be ordered by the Royal Audiencia.
No Indian shall undertake by himself to preach the holy word save by express license of the religious fathers.
No baptized person shall possess idols, sacrifice any animals, draw blood by piercing their ears or noses, nor perform any rite, nor burn incense thereto, or fast in worship of their false idols.
No Indian baptized, shall return to be baptized a second time.
Many Indians having been told that their children will die if baptized, I command that all children be brought for baptism.
Matrimony being in great respect among the Indians, I ordain that no one shall have more than one wife, and that an adulterer shall receive 100 blows, and other punishments if he does not amend.
No cacique shall have to do with a female slave.
No one shall be so daring as to marry secretly.
No one shall marry twice, on penalty of branding with a hot iron in a figure 4 on the forehead.
No purchase gifts shall be made to the woman’s parents, nor shall the youth be required by them, as by their old customs, to remain and serve in their father-in-law’s house for two or three years.
No one shall give a heathen name to his children.
All people must bend the knee before the sacrament, recite the prayers fixed when the Ave is rung, and reverence the cross and images.
Every one, man or woman, must go to the church both morning and evening, and say an Ave and Paternoster with all reverence.
At meals all shall say grace before and after, and on retiring at night cross themselves and recite the prayers the fathers will teach them.
No one shall cast grains of corn for divination, nor tell dreams, nor wear any marks or ornaments of their heathendom, nor tattoo themselves.
So lacking in charity and care even for their wives or husbands, or family, are the Indians, that I command that all shall care for them when sick, etc.
Where much sickness comes to a town, it shall be reported, and the fathers shall have those at hand for instruction in holy dying.
All inheritances shall be properly cared for.
There shall be no holding in slavery, and all so held shall be set free. But allow to the caciques, principal men or other powerful Indians to hire people for their
service, all of whom shall be reported to the padres and taken to them for doctrination.
The custom of banquets to large numbers is so common, and so destructive of Christianity, that I order that no general banquets be given by any one save at marriages or like fiestas, but then no more than a dozen people may be invited.
No dances shall be held except in daytime.
God gave us time for work, and time for his service; whereby I order the keeping of all church fiestas, as and in the manner fixed by the religious fathers.
All preparation of their ancient drinks is prohibited, and the caciques, principal men, and even the encomenderos are ordered within two months to gather and burn all utensils or cups used therein, on penalty of 20 pesos fine if they allow more to be made.
Towns must be in the Spanish fashion, have guesthouses, one for Spaniards and another for Indians. Also marketplaces to avoid all travelling about to sell or buy. Nor shall any merchant, Indian, Mexican, mestizo or negro, be lodged in any private house.
Proper weights and measures shall be provided within two months, on penalty of 20 pesos gold.
I command the raising of cattle to be introduced among the Indians. The chief tribute of the country being cotton mantles, I order that teaching for this be given.
I order that all women wear long skirts and over them their huipiles; and that all men wear shirts and go shod, at least with sandals.
Since the Indians are always wandering the woods to hunt, I order that all bows and arrows are to be burned. But each cacique shall hold two or three dozen bows, with arrows, for special occasions, or necessity as against tigers.
Good roads from town to town shall be kept in order.
No negro, slave or mestizo shall enter any village save with his master, and then stay more than a day and night.”
The Mayan Codex Page 33
