The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) (21 page)

“Muwaan Mat now welcomes the arrival of Bolon Tiku, Lord of Katun 9. With the light of Father Sun-K’in Ahau, we welcome the new Score of Tuns. The burden of the nine stones was born to our temple by strong men; the binding of the nine stones is done by the vessel of the Goddess. We witness the stone-binding, that Katun 9 may arrive properly acknowledged, rightly recognized and honored.”

Sak K’uk-Muwaan Mat walked slowly to the heap of stones and wound the long cords around the nine stones several times. She tied the cords into a large knot, then stood tall, lifted her arms to the sun and chanted:

“Five Ahau settles into Three Ahau,

Lords of the final days of each Katun

One releases his burden to the next.

This is its word and its burden,

Face of the Lord Sun is the seat of the Three Ahau Katun.

There its mat will be present,

There its throne will be present,

There it will reveal its word,

There it will reveal its might.

Yaxal Chak
, Green Rain, is the semblance of the katun ruling the sky.

In the face of its rule is the balance of three,

Is the limit of nine, the master of endings.

Lords of the Katun, Bolon Tiku, Ox Ahau,

They who bring the ending of Lakam Ha’s suffering

And restore the balance of humans and gods.”

Sak K’uk turned to the crowd below, spread her hands and held them, palms outward, in the sign of universal blessing. The High Priest and Priestess stood beside her and led the assembly in the chant to welcome the dawning of a new day. Then the three turned and entered the temple chambers to enact a symbolic offering to the deities. A small select group of ahauob, including Sak K’uk’s family, climbed the stairs to join this ceremony. It was understood that no burdens could be given, that the Triad Deities and Lords of the First Sky could not be adorned with the usual hats and jewelry, because the portal did not exist. The customary bloodletting by the ruler and high ahauob would not take place, because the vision serpent could not be invoked without the portal through which it rose into the Upperworld.

Instead of these usual burdens of gifts, the group sat and gave thanks to Muwaan Mat who was making these offerings to her sons in the celestial realm. Many years later, Pakal would have the commemoration of this occasion carved on the hieroglyphic panels in his funerary monument called Temple of the Inscriptions:

“Less than a year after Ix Muwaan Mat K’uhul B’aakal Ahau

Became seated as ahau, it was the K’altun of 3 Ahau 3 Zodz.

It was the ninth Katun (9.9.0.0.0 – May 12, 613 CE).

Muwaan Mat K’uhul B’aakal Ahau gives the bundle of her gods

for the 9 Baktun 9 Katun.

On the back of the ninth Katun, god was lost; ahau was lost.

She could not adorn the ahauob of the First Sky;

She could not give offerings to the 9 Sky Yoch’ok’in,

The 16 Ch’ok’in, or the 9 Tz’aak Ahau.

On the back of the 3 Ahau Katun, Ix Muwaan Mat could not give their offerings.

Ix Muwaan Mat gives the bundle of her god.”

SAK K’UK/MUWAAN MAT – IV

Baktun 9 Katun 9 Tun 1 –
Baktun 9 Katun 9 Tun 2
(613 – 615 CE)

1

In the seasons following the K’altun ceremony to bind the stones of the new katun, Pakal thought deeply about time. He was keenly interested in the Lords of Time, having studied their dominion over the calendars tracking many cycles, immense to small, that structured Mayan life. He saw how time permeated all aspects of life, a dynamic force that imbued temporal existence with spiritual significance. Earthly life was enmeshed with natural and celestial rhythms. Time ordered the sequence of daily events and gave a framework to remember the past and anticipate the future. With the Long Count, sacred and annual calendars, his people could prepare for repeating patterns that brought either good or bad fortune.

Stone became the bones of history. By imprinting ephemeral moments onto the solid medium of stone, the Maya turned time into an enduring presence. Defining specific moments in the lives of rulers, commemorating endings and beginnings of katuns and baktuns, and documenting significant events in the history of cities constituted a work of spiritual magnitude. The life of the ruler was memorialized through the carving of dates into stone, and this inscribed the ruler into the history of the cosmos.

Recalling his lessons with the old calendar priest Ah Kuy, Pakal reviewed how certain deities ruled over time. Each unit of time and each number had a named lord. The Lords of the Tun and Katun took the name of the day and number on which their cycle ended. Tuns always ended on an Ahau day. Katuns ended after 20 tuns, thus likewise always ended on an Ahau day. The numeric count of the K’altun, the Wheel of the Katun, followed a regressing count separated by 2 digits: 13-11-9-7-5-3-1-12-10-8-6-4-2. Every 13 cycles the count began anew, every 260 tuns a new Katun Wheel turned. The mathematics of this calendar led to the great cycle of the Tzek’eb or Pleiadian Calendar of 26,000 tuns: 260 + 260 = 520, 520 + 520 = 1040, 1040 x 25 = 26,000.

Indeed, Pakal concluded, time brought to the Maya many opportunities to encounter gods and ancestors. Reverently, the newly designated heir recited their names:

“Lord of Katun 8 – Oaxac Tiku (8 Deity).

Lord of Katun 9 – Bolon Tiku (9 Deity).”

The Lord of the ending day was Ahau for both katuns, and each Ahau had accompanying numeric lords, numbers 5 and 3. Pakal continued:

“Numeric Lord 5 – Ho Ahau Katun for Katun 8.

Numeric Lord 3 – Ox Ahau Katun for Katun 9.”

Pasah Chan judged that the time was right for Pakal to make the dangerous journey into the Underworld and encounter the Lords of Death. Training for this intense challenge had been interrupted by the city’s devastation following Kan’s attack, and the long chaotic phase that followed. Now that a measure of stability was established and succession was secure, he wanted no delays in completing the ba-ch’ok training. At the dark of the moon, when Ix Uc was hidden in the night sky, he knew the inter-dimensional Sacred Mountain Cave would open its mouth for those who could find it. Called Cave of Immortal Wisdom, only adepts who could overcome all fears, even fear of death, were able to enter. If their hearts were not pure, they would either be prevented from entering or would be unable to leave the Underworld, trapped forever in Xibalba, the domain of the Death Lords.

The High Priest knew that Sak K’uk was worried about the dangers for Pakal, but the heir to the throne could not assume proper rulership powers without facing them. The evening before the moon’s disappearance, when she hung as a mere sliver over the darkening horizon, he led a small group into the steep, rugged terrain of mountains to the south of the city. They toiled upward on barely visible paths, picking their way gingerly over lianas and rocks, avoiding spiny bushes and fanning roots of towering trees, until they faced a cliff so perpendicular that climbing was impossible.

At the base of the cliff, Pasah Chan set up camp for the night. His two attendant priests started a small fire and set mats around it. He and Pakal prepared for a night spent in meditation. He instructed Pakal that the cave mouth would open in the few moments between the dim light heralding dawn and the rising of the sun. During the night Pakal must use divinatory training to pinpoint the cave opening, and prepare his consciousness so that he could gain entry. Giving any intimation of where the cave mouth was located would invalidate the challenge. In truth, the High Priest could not remember which of the many small hollows pocketing the cliff held the cave mouth. His final instructions were about returning from the cave. At dusk, moments before sunset, the cave mouth would re-open and allow Pakal to exit. If he missed this small window of time, he would be trapped in the Underworld.

The three priests kept vigil with the ba-ch’ok through the night. Two attendant priests maintained the fire and watched for jungle dangers, such as jaguars and snakes. The High Priest attuned his consciousness to Pakal and entered the trance state with the boy. Pakal maintained intense concentration and practiced breath meditation, not allowing drowsiness to creep up. Immobile as a stone statue, he floated for hours completely absorbed in the fresh air moving in and out of his nostrils, following its channels flowing within his body through his lungs into every organ, muscle, blood vessel, nerve, and deep into the bones.

From time to time, he scanned the cliff mentally to detect the cave mouth. Although he sensed nothing, he firmly controlled any thoughts of worry or inadequacy. It was just such thoughts that derailed intuitive processes. He breathed in confidence and trust that the gods would show him the entrance in good time. Years of training had prepared him to hold meditation postures for long hours, ascetic disciplines allowed him to ignore pangs of hunger and thirst. The occasional night sounds, the insect chirps, bat shrieks, rustling leaves and frog croaks wafted through his awareness like thin smoke, passing and exiting without leaving any traces.

Although his eyes were closed, Pakal could detect a slight decrease in the darkness that surrounded him. Dawn was not far away, and still he had not found the cave mouth. He concentrated harder, shooting a stream of consciousness toward the cliff face, probing into every hollow and depression. Nothing. Behind scraggly brush that clung to boulders, he detected no hint of secrets or energies that would give clues. Small ripples of uncertainty began spreading in his lake of mental calmness. His heartbeat quickened and his breathing became irregular. He noticed his aching limbs and felt nearly irresistible urges to move them.

Relax, relax and breathe, open your heart and trust. Pakal repeated this mantra silently until he felt complete calm returning. Un-summoned, an image of Baby Jaguar-Unen K’awiil floated before his inner vision, and his heart smiled. His special friend was here to help. The plump little jaguar cavorted in front of the cliff, waved a paw at Pakal and disappeared into a hollow near the east edge where jungle took over.

A bolt of certainty shot through Pakal’s awareness. This is it! Heartfelt gratitude flooded toward Baby Jaguar, now hidden within the cave.

The light grew brighter and Pakal stirred. He opened his eyes and glanced east. Although dense trees blocked view of the horizon, he knew earliest sunlight would dance through the top of the forest canopy. Judging from the light and twitters of awakening birds, this would occur momentarily.

It was time. The few moments between dawn light and sunrise were upon them.

Pakal leapt to his feet, ignoring protests of stiff muscles and bounded toward the hollow entered by Baby Jaguar. Pasah Chan was fully aware of Pakal’s actions, and opened his lids a slit to watch. The other priests were drowsing on their mats.

The lithe boy covered the space to the hollow almost instantly. He paused for a moment, looking past brush and saw a jagged opening into the cliff. It appeared to be a hungry mouth waiting to swallow him, full of pointed rocky teeth. Fear flashed but he immediately extinguished it with a blast of love, totally trusting Baby Jaguar. The cave mouth seemed to vibrate then started closing. Pakal made a headfirst dive into the opening, landing inside on sand and pebbles as the rocky teeth snapped closed.

The darkness was total. Silence reigned inside the cave. Pakal waited for his vision to adjust and his heartbeat to slow down, and gradually he could see faint light emanating from deep within the tunnel that went steeply downward. The cave was high enough for him to stand, so he proceeded carefully down the tunnel. Down and down he went, following curves and stepping over puddles. After what seemed an interminable descent, the tunnel opened onto an immense cavern, so huge that he could not see the far sides. Canyon after canyon, ridge after ridge swept away to unfathomable distance.

Xibalba. It was the domain of the Death Lords.

Pakal listened and sniffed the dank air. Sounds of rushing rivers, hoots and squawks came from the distance. Foul odors wafted out of canyons, sickening smells that turned his stomach. Baby Jaguar was nowhere in sight, but he detected a narrow path wending through slippery rocks toward the canyons. There seemed nowhere else to go but along the path, so he followed it slowly, grasping damp boulders at times to steady his steps. This brought him to the brink of the first deep canyon, and he gasped to see that instead of water, a thick stream of pus flowed through its precipitous walls. The smell gagged him.

Suddenly a hideous creature jumped from behind a boulder, its face a grinning skull, its limbs skeletal and belly bloated. From numerous sores on its body, pus was running. Shreds of skin hung off its back and arms, putrefying and dripping more pus. Its headdress contained dangling eyeballs, flapping tongues, severed fingers and trailing entrails. Bloodshot eyes popping out of sockets, it pointed a clawed finger at Pakal and shrieked,

“Why come you here? What are you, that you invade my domain uncalled?”

Pakal quickly got grip of his emotions, clasped his left shoulder and bowed.

“Greetings, Lord Demon of Pus. I am K’inich Janaab Pakal, ba-ch’ok of Lakam Ha. Here came I to learn from the Lords of Death. It is part of my training to become K’uhul Ahau of B’aakal. Humbly and respectfully I request your instructions.”

“Ah-hah!” Pussy dribble sprayed from the decayed teeth of Demon of Pus. “Another ambitious Halach Uinik who thinks to master the realms of Xibalba. Foolish boy! You must pass two tests before you earn the right to learn from the Death Lords. Few manage to pass our tests, soon you will become food for our denizens. Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

His laughter tapered into throaty gurgles as he coughed and spat more pus.

“Give me the first test,” said Pakal calmly.

Demon of Pus regarded the boy disdainfully.

“As you wish. First you must enter the Dark House. I will give you a burning torch and a cigar. You must return them both to me when I come, but they must be intact. Nothing must be consumed of either the torch or cigar. But you must keep them burning the entire time.”

“Let us proceed,” Pakal replied.

The pussy Lord led Pakal to a stone house with two narrow windows, placed him inside with a burning torch and lit cigar, rolled a heavy slab to cover the entrance and called from a distance,

“Remember, nothing must be consumed but both must be kept lit. Here shall I stay, watching that the burning light glows through the window.”

Pakal thought furiously about how to accomplish this task. Somehow, it seemed familiar, a story he vaguely recalled from early studies. Then he remembered that the Maya creation story of the Hero Twins included this test, and the Twins overcame it by getting help from fireflies and a macaw. Concentrating, he envisioned a swarm of fireflies and mentally called to them, and then did the same for a scarlet macaw. In a short time, the twinkling bodies of several fireflies appeared through the window on the side away from where the Death Lord waited. Pakal snuffed out the cigar and the fireflies clustered on its tip, keeping it glowing. The scarlet macaw appeared next, and Pakal smothered the torch under his sandal. The macaw clutched the torch shaft and waved its brilliant red tail feathers over the tip, looking exactly like wavering flames. Pakal held his insect and bird friends in deepest gratitude as they kept the glow shining through the window near the Death Lord.

Demon of Pus knocked at the door, and began removing the slab. Pakal quickly released his assistants and they flew away. The torch and cigar were intact.

“Show me the torch and cigar!”

Pakal stepped through the door and held them up for inspection. The Death Lord gasped and howled angrily.

“How did you do this? The glow and flames were always present, these I saw!”

“This is the work of some magic that I know,” Pakal replied.

Demon of Pus had to accept defeat.

“So be it. You have passed the first test, and now shall I conduct you across the River of Pus that you may encounter your next test.”

He summoned a large owl that carried Pakal on its back to the other side of the river. There Pakal saw the path continued, and he followed it to the next deep canyon where he saw flowing inside a river of blood. He waited, knowing another Death Lord would appear.