The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) (15 page)

His parents stared, feeling an intensity and strength beyond imagining emanating from their son. Even in her distraught state, Sak K’uk marveled that he so readily sensed the closed portal and envisioned the fallen Jeweled Tree-Wakah Chan. She did not perceive these things, perhaps due to her shocked state but more likely because her intuitive and visionary abilities were not so well developed.

“So it must, as you have spoken, Pakal,” she murmured. “But first we must leave this profaned and evil place. Come, let us climb out quickly.”

She reached to take his hand, but he stepped back, his sandals crunching on the shattered crystal fragments.

“Kan Mo’ Hix!” she commanded. “Take your son out of this danger.”

He moved quickly and grabbed Pakal before the boy could jump away. As he began to climb out, partly carrying and mostly pulling Pakal, she barked another command.

“Pakal, the Baby Jaguar must remain here. He has been contaminated. You cannot take his head with you. As you have said, he no longer inhabits this image.”

Pakal started to protest, but as his eyes met his mother’s, a bolt of understanding shot through him. He sensed the evil and menacing energies. Slowly, reluctantly, he bent with his father still firmly grasping one arm. With his free arm, Pakal cradled the broken head once more to his heart then placed it reverently beside the altar. He turned and began to climb upward out of the hole, in tow behind his father. Sak K’uk scrambled behind them, moving nimbly.

They gathered a safe distance from the edge of the hole. Pakal felt soothed by the bright midday sun, lifting his face to receive its warm rays. Sak K’uk brushed dirt off her knees and palms, finally sensing they were out of danger. She took several deep breaths and drew in calmness, becoming clear on what was necessary.

“This desecrated place is filled with evil. We must do ceremony to purify and cleanse it, to remove the destructive forces implanted here by our enemies. Let us prepare to ritually terminate this shrine, to bury all within through correct ceremony, to close this wound upon our souls.”

Without looking back, they all walked to the palace to prepare the ritual termination of the Sak Nuk Nah.

The ahauob of Lakam Ha formed a circle around the gaping hole that contained the remnants of their sacred shrine. Most of the city’s residents gathered behind the ahauob, and inside the circle standing close to the collapsed edge were the High Priest Pasah Chan, High Priestess Usin Ch’ob, and remaining members of the royal family except for Hohmay, wife of captured ruler Aj Ne Ohl Mat. Hohmay was too distraught to leave her chambers, and her already fragile emotional state was clearly deteriorating.

The High Priest and Priestess would conduct a ritual for cleansing and purification, using plant medicine and incantations to dispel the evil magic that had been performed. Sak K’uk, closest in bloodlines to the ruler, would undertake the ceremony to ritually terminate the shrine.

First the High Priest and Priestess called upon the Lords of the Four Directions, the Bacabs and Pahautuns who held up the sky, and the Chaks of the Four Colors to be present in support. Usin Ch’ob signaled her fire priestesses to light 13 censers that surrounded the hole; 13 embodied the sacred number of spirit and holiness, and there were 13 levels of the Upperworld. As spirals of copal smoke rose from the tall censers, the High Priestess circled four times counter-clockwise and added crushed dried leaves of Kaba-yax-nik (Vervain), mingling the herb’s fragrance with copal’s earthy pungency. Copal-Pom and Kaba-yax-nik were powerful plants for counter-acting evil magic when used in ritual ceremonies. They warded off evil influences and repelled dark spirits.

Pasah Chan and several priests began the purification chant, circling around the hole nine times, once for each level of the Underworld. In each hand they held bundles made up of four herbs and plants, each infused with specific powers. Pixoy (bay cedar) had long serrated leaves and gray-brown bark that released “bad winds” carrying off spells and bewitchments. Cacal Tun (basil) could cure spiritual ailments such as grief and evil magic with its highly aromatic fresh green leaves. The multiple leaflets on branches of the Chink-in (Bird of Paradise flower) that had absorbed sunlight for half a day were capable of relieving sadness and grief. The square-shaped stems of Pay-che (skunk root) were peeled to release their strong skunk-like odor and used in two ways: Whole stems were burned to dispel evil magic, and shaman-priests drank a tea of boiled stems to strengthen their spiritual powers. All those participating in the ceremony, including Sak K’uk, had partaken of this tea in the morning.

Waving the bundles and shaking them toward the hole, the priests completed their nine circles as they chanted. They stood, facing the hole, as Pasah Chan and Usin Ch’ob alternated voices in a final prayer requesting that the evil magic be permanently dispelled, and the ground purified and cleansed. The priests then tossed their bundles into the hole, upon a mound of fragrant cedar branches piled at the bottom.

Sak K’uk stood at the edge of the hole, facing north, and lifted her arms:

“Here was the most sacred shrine of Lakam Ha, the Sak Nuk Nah.

Here was born, of the earth, of the sky, the Jeweled Tree-Wakah Chan Te.

The tree of many splendors, the portal tree to the gods and ancestors.

Here our rulers for generations, back to the founder of our lineage K’uk Bahlam, made their offerings to the gods, gave the gifts, made the bundles that clothed and adorned and honored the Triad Deities and the deities of the First Sky, the 9 Sky Yoch’ok’in, the 16 Ch’ok’in, and the 9 Tz’aak Ahau.

Here they performed all the duties required of the K’uhul B’aakal Ahau, nothing was left undone, all needs were satisfied.

Many are the blessings, many the boons given to the people of Lakam Ha as the rulers satisfied the gods, and the gods gave themselves, their powers, to the rulers.

This is the sacred covenant of K’uhul B’aakal Ahauob. This keeps the balance between the three levels, the Underworld, the Middleworld, and the Upperworld. This maintains harmony between the worlds of Halach Uinik-Real Humans and the celestial realm of spirits and ancestors, of stars and space.

But now this most sacred shrine has been desecrated, has been destroyed.

By the actions of Unen Chan, K’uhul Ka’an Ahau, through the evil magic of his ruthless priests,

By the treachery of Ek Chuuah of Usihwitz, by the cowardice of Wa-Mut.

They abandoned the traditions of our people, the Maya; they have forsaken our honorable agreements of the May cycles, they have subverted our ideals of ritual battle and distorted them into destructive warfare,

Against a city that gave them no affront, no insult, no challenge.

Their actions are immoral and insulting to the order of the worlds. They have violated the ways of the deities, the sacred agreements that keep the actions of humans in accord with the purposes of the gods.

For this will they suffer. For this will their lives, their cities, their people be troubled. It will be so, for the gods are not mocked nor ignored.”

Sak K’uk paused, standing tall and slowly turning to meet the eyes of all in the circle. Solemn faces of the ahauob met her gaze. Commoners craned their necks to catch a view. The priests and priestesses held sacred space with their intense stillness. Sak K’uk signaled for Pakal to come next to her, and for attendants to bring torches. She took one torch and gave another to Pakal. Turning to face the hole, she continued.

“It is time to terminate this once sacred shrine. The Sak Nuk Nah has been cleansed, it has been purified, it has been prepared for proper closure according to the ordained rituals. The evil magic has been dispelled and removed, it has no more power, it exists here no more. Now shall the burning begin for the final termination.”

She and Pakal raised their torches and threw them onto the pile of branches and herbs. Immediately the pile burst into flame, releasing waves of sweet-pungent smoke. As smoke billowed, tongues of fire lapped the edges of the hole and leapt upward in fierce abandon. The inner circle moved back to escape the heat while all eyes stared transfixed upon fantastic forms dancing in the flames. The participants remained until the fire had consumed everything and died back to glowing embers.

Sak K’uk moved farther away and signaled waiting men to begin filling in the hole. Using sturdy digging sticks they moved rocks and dirt from the edge into the cavity. More soil and rock was brought from other locations to completely fill in the hole and level the ground. This activity would take considerable time, so Sak K’uk led her people away from the now-terminated shrine back into the city.

The hot summer sun blazed mercilessly on the destitute city. People listlessly carried out daily routines, rationing food carefully to last until the next harvest. Already seeds were planted in gardens and fields, waiting for the late summer rains to initiate sprouting. Small efforts were made to clear debris from structures, but no restoration was undertaken. The people lacked the heart, and the leadership, to rebuild their city. It was widely understood that the elite ahauob could no longer access the main portal for communicating with deities, and uncertainty reigned as to whether they had any other methods. Lakam Ha had lost its ruler and the status of their captured K’uhul B’aakal Ahau was unknown. This created a vacuum in leadership, a void that could not be filled until the fate of Aj Ne Ohl Mat was ascertained.

Sak K’uk felt confused and despondent. After her show of determination in organizing the ritual termination ceremony, she descended into this unfamiliar state because she could get no sense of direction. She simply did not know what to do next. Lakam Ha’s present situation was utterly different from any other time, either in her own experience or in the city’s history. There was no functioning royal court, no tribute from polity cities, no visitors or traders, little food, and no resources to repair the damage done to numerous structures. Even the Council House-Popol Nah had not yet assembled, for who would call it into session?

If her father Hun Pakal were here, he would call the Council and lead it. But he also was a captive in Kan, possibly not still alive. This thought wrenched her heart and caused her stomach to clench. She felt lost without his calm wisdom. She considered whether her husband, Kan Mo’ Hix, could assume leadership. He had certainly wanted this before, complaining frequently about Aj Ne’s weakness and distraction with arts. But now, in this desperate situation, he was not stepping forth. When she encouraged him to take leadership and call the Council, his uneasiness was clear. Whoever moved into top leadership needed to communicate with the Triad Deities.

She pressured her husband to undertake a private vision ritual, to let blood and seek the vision serpent. Perhaps the great serpent would arise from its hidden chambers in the earth and ascend through the Middleworld into the Upperworld, even without the Wakah Chan to climb. Kan Mo’ Hix retorted that she should be the one to try this, since she had shamanic training from her mother. They had a nasty confrontation, fed by the frustration and underlying guilt both felt over the devastating Kan attack. Each realized they should have taken action during the years of Aj Ne’s ineffectual leadership. Each bore responsibility for their city’s incapacity to anticipate and defend against the attack. And now, each was equally confused about how to proceed.

After exchanging heated and harsh words, they discharged considerable emotions and calmed down enough to reach an accord. They would both let blood and seek the vision serpent, secretly and within their private chambers, with only the most trusted priests and priestesses in attendance. The High Priest and Priestess came with one assistant each, bringing prepared hallucinogenic brew, stingray spine blood-letters and bark paper and bowls. The royal couple had participated in the last Katun ceremony conducted by Aj Ne Ohl Mat nearly five tuns ago, and performed the bloodletting ritual then. They would draw from that experience.

When the three days of fasting and purification were completed, in the evening by light of only a few torches, when all was in readiness and the hallucinogenic brew had taken effect, the royal couple drew their blood from tongue and penis in the prescribed manner. Dropping blood-soaked bark paper into waiting bowls filled with glowing coals, they concentrated on spirals of smoke twisting upward as the paper burned. The attendants, who served to anchor the spirits of the visionaries and provide support as needed, waited breathlessly. The semi-dark chamber hovered in anticipatory silence; only crackling sounds from burning paper were heard.

Through her altered consciousness, Sak K’uk strained to focus on the smoke from her bowl. She waited for the serpent form to resolve from the diaphanous billows. A few times the snake seemed to be taking shape, but it did not hold. Try as she might, she could not see the vision serpent. She held focus for a long time, until all the bark paper had crumbled into ashes and only tiny wisps of smoke drifted up. Finally, crestfallen, she had to admit that for her, the vision serpent did not appear. One look at the face of Kan Mo’ Hix told her this was also his experience. Both exchanged glances then met the eagerly waiting eyes of the priests and priestesses. Sadly shaking their heads, they made the hand gesture for “nothing” to indicate the failure of their vision quests.

During the humid, steamy days of late summer Pakal wandered through the damaged city. His feet followed familiar paths across wide plazas, along paved pathways linking different complexes, across narrow stone bridges spanning burbling streams, and up wide stairways leading to pyramids and temples. It was the latter that caused his heart to ache. Most pyramid-temple structures were defaced at minimum, or nearly destroyed at the worst. He could not visit the pyramid-temple of his great-grandfather Kan Bahlam often, but he was compelled to climb the long stairway mounting its terraces from time to time. The utter destruction of this once lofty and noble monument sat like an immense boulder upon his chest, taking his breath away and crushing his heart to the point he felt faint. He would sit upon the top stairway, back turned to the ruined temple, forcing in deep breaths. When the pressure lessened and he could breathe normally, he gazed over the city spread below and toward the tree-covered hills in the distance. From this high perspective, the residential complexes with multiple plazas appeared almost as before. He could, for a moment, forget that his city lay in chaos and disarray.