The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque (21 page)

The conception was successful and all rejoiced as Yohl Ik’nal’s pregnancy progressed. She was healthy and vibrant, ate carefully as the Ix Chel priestesses advised, and kept ritual practices daily for calmness. As the pregnancy neared term, Yohl Ik’nal began to have disturbing dreams of turmoil and conflict. She had been advised against undertaking vision rituals while pregnant, to safeguard against opening herself to malicious entities. Although she discussed her dreams with Mat Ek’ and the new High Priestess Usin Ch’ob, she could not retrieve sufficient details for accurate interpretation.

Hun Pakal tried to reassure his wife, but her uneasiness persisted. Recollections of an earlier vision quest at the cave of K’ak Lakam Witz drifted through her awareness. On the mountain she had received messages about her children; there would be two and the dynasty would continue through her bloodline, but what of the firstborn? She strained to remember. Faintly the memory returned. The boy was weak and the girl strong with the lineage deity K’awiil beside her. If truly the child she bore was a boy, there was reason for her uneasiness.

Labor began several days before the planned date. The sun was low on the horizon when Yohl Ik’nal summoned her birth attendants. Mat Ek’ was already in the birth quarters, having kept continuous vigil beside her charge for the past two moons. The calendar priests were informed and started new calculations. Days began at sunrise and ended just before dawn for the Maya. As labor intensified, the priests produced a new date chart. Should the child be born during the night, the date would still be auspicious. But after dawn, a day of bad auguries began.

Despite the best efforts of Mat Ek’ and her Ix Chel healers to encourage labor to progress rapidly, Yohl Ik’nal struggled throughout the night as the child would not descend into the birth canal. Mat Ek’ determined that its shoulder was stuck in the pelvic girdle, and attempted to reposition the head properly by abdominal massage. Drenched with sweat and exhausted, Yohl Ik’nal strained with intense contractions hardly giving her moments in between to rest. Reluctantly Mat Ek’ administered a drink of milky sap from wild poppies with an opium-like effect, although she knew this relaxation would slow labor. If Yohl Ik’nal did not relax enough between contractions for the child to be turned, her life was in danger.

Dawn broke with dark clouds skittering across the sky, threatening rain. Yohl Ik’nal dozed fitfully, waking to moan through yet another contraction. The High Priestess Usin Ch’ob had joined the birth attendants during the night, chanting in earnest to bring the child forth before dawn. Now changing tact, she joined with Mat Ek’ to invoke the compassion of Ix Chel as Lady Rainbow, patron of harmony between earth and cosmos, to finish the birth despite the undesirable date. Mat Ek’ oiled her hands with boiled palm kernal oil, blew a spray of orchid water across Yohl Ik’nal’s swollen belly, determined that the relaxing drink was at maximum effect, and pushed one hand through the birth canal between contractions to deftly lift the child’s shoulder up. With the other hand on the laboring woman’s belly, she repositioned the child so the head settled into correct position.

The boy was born a short time later. He was small but perfectly formed and appeared healthy, crying loudly. The bruise on his left shoulder would resolve in a few days. As Yohl Ik’nal rested and the child was swaddled, plans were set afoot to conceal the actual date of his birth. The Tzolk’in day was 11 Kimi, the number of chaos and imbalance joined with the day of death, finishing, disappearing. The Haab was 2 Pax, the number of duality-polarity that combined with energies of knocking off course or deviating.

Not an admirable combination of traits for a future ruler. The calendar priests and Kan Bahlam agreed to report that the birth took place in the hour before dawn. All involved were oath-bound to pronounce the prior day as the birth date of Aj Neh Ohl Mat, firstborn son of Yohl Ik’nal and Hun Pakal.

Aj Neh Ohl Mat was now in his fourth solar year, a boy of pleasing countenance and form but shy and fearful. He still ran to hide behind the skirts of his mother or nursemaid when anything new entered his world. Yohl Ik’nal worried that he would not do well when separated from the palace women. Boys began male socialization and study with solar priests when they reached their seventh solar year. As the heir apparent of the royal family, he would face special pressures for bravery and self-assurance, two traits that seemed sadly lacking in his infantile character.

Now she was pregnant with a girl, carefully planned and conceived according to guidance she received from the Triad Gods through visions. The solar priests argued for another boy—as men were wont to do—but she was not swayed by their reasoning. Her relationship with the B’aakal patron deities had deepened through frequent ritual communications, and she took her guidance directly from the Cosmic Realm of the Upperworld. So strong was her surety of this guidance, so evident the deities’ presence in her aura that the priests refrained from challenging her decisions. Hun Pakal had an uncanny resonance with his wife and unconditionally supported her.

This girl child was special. Yohl Ik’nal knew that her unborn daughter would be the keeper of the succession, as her visions at K’ak Lakam Witz had revealed so long ago. How and why this must be so, and what would happen with her son, she did not understand. But neither did she question the will of the Deities. It would be so, as it was ordained.

The baby kicked vigorously, summoning her mother back to the present. Yohl Ik’nal patted her belly that showed the distinct contours of pregnancy entering the final trimester. Several more kicks greeted her touch, and Mat Ek’ noticed the movements. The women’s eyes met in mutual accord that this pregnancy must go well.

“See, she is strong and healthy,” Yohl Ik’nal observed.

“We must keep her that way. Was this trip to the village truly necessary?” Mat Ek’ wrinkled her brow disapprovingly.

“This is without doubt necessary. A blight upon the corn fields would be disastrous for my people. It is something I cannot turn away from, for such a request is not made except when the village priests and shamans have tried all in their power. Something is happening with this farmer Nohpat that is outside their realm of experience. They are appealing to the highest power, even to the Triad Gods through me. It is my sacred duty as K’uhul B’aakal Ahau to resolve this difficulty.”

The conviction in Yohl Ik’nal’s voice and her calm certainty silenced Mat Ek’. Glancing surreptitiously, the healer marveled at the mantle of divinity that hovered around the ruler when she spoke of such sacred obligations.

The palanquin bearers turned from the main path and soon the thatched roofs of many huts came into view. The ruler’s entourage—three palanquins and about 20 people on foot—came to a halt in the village square as the Ah Kuch Kab stood stiffly alert, flanked by his kuchte’el headmen and shamans. The entire village gathered around the edges of the square, their excited murmuring fading as the palanquins were lowered. Yohl Ik’nal’s palanquin rested next to the raised platform in the center of the square, the only plaster structure in the village. It was used for the most important announcements and ceremonies, and had been decorated with flowers and incense burners in honor of the royal visit.

The ruler had ordered minimal ceremony, but some was required in due course. The small group of palace musicians began a solemn drum cadence while the shrill bone whistle commanded attention. Court nobles in modest attire, by the ruler’s orders, surrounded her palanquin and opened its drapes, assisting the ruler to step out onto the low platform. She moved gracefully, for her pregnancy although obvious was not heavy, and she proceeded to the center of the platform. There she was joined by the High Priest and High Priestess who occupied the other palanquins.

The Ah Kuch Kab and important villagers paid homage to the B’aakal ruler by bowing deeply, clasping left shoulder with right hand in the Maya salute. A short ceremonial welcome speech was given, then the problem with Nohpat’s cornfields described and the village leaders’ attempts to resolve it enumerated. Although all this was well known to everyone, protocol required a formal public pronouncement to set the parameters of this important occasion.

Yohl Ik’nal listened graciously, nodding to acknowledge each fact. When the villagers had finished, and all eyes were riveted upon her, she said simply:

“Bring forth the farmer Nohpat, that he may lead me to his hut and his ailing cornfields.”

The crowd of villagers responded simultaneously with a surprised in-breath. From among the crowd Nohpat emerged, head bowed as the Ah Kuch Kab introduced him to his Holy Lady, K’uhul Ixik. He scarcely glanced upward, avoiding her gaze as though it might cause him to burst into flames, and gestured hesitantly in the direction of his hut and fields.

“Lead the way, Nohpat. We will follow you there,” she said gently.

Though she would prefer to walk, Yohl Ik’nal knew that both her pregnancy and her status required she ride in the palanquin. The three palanquins, 20 court nobles and most of the villagers slowly followed Nohpat along a narrow path bordered by trees and fields. The distance was not far, and soon his family compound came into view; the thatched living hut made of thin branches with clay fill in-between, the cooking hut of the same branches with open areas between so heat and smoke could escape, and a smaller clay and wood structure for domestic animals. A couple of small dogs and koatimundis roamed in the open area surrounding the compound. Turkeys gobbled inside their pen. The sun was high in the sky and heat waves shimmered.

Yohl Ik’nal observed the cornfields close to the compound, noting the stunted ears and lethargic leaves. Even the complementary plants seemed to lack vigor. It was as though some vital energy was lacking, and the plants languished. Closing her eyes, she sensed into the plants’ interiors, feeling the fluids moving through cell membranes, the leaves capturing sunlight and converting it into energy, the roots twisting through soil taking up water and nutrients. All these systems were working, but not very effectively. The plants seemed to lack motivation, to be low in life force. She did not detect a toxic substance, or an opportunistic organism, or an evil force sent to harm the plants. What was wrong, why were they not flourishing?

Immediately an answer flashed into her mind: The plants were unhappy.

Acknowledging this communication, she probed further into the plants’ essences for why they were unhappy. She reached an understanding, from profound unity with the plants, that their care-taking family was unhappy, and this feeling permeated the plants that depended upon the family. It was a deep-seated and problematic unhappiness, not readily solved, and persistent for some time to have such severe effects.

Mentally thanking the plants, Yohl Ik’nal re-directed her attention to the people around her as she descended from the palanquin in front of Nohpat’s living hut. Two women and a young man emerged from the hut and stood wide-eyed before the noble entourage. The village leader explained these were Nohpat’s wife, daughter and son. His son helped him in the fields, and his wife and daughter maintained the household. It was a typical farming family, from a long tradition of successful farmers.

The daughter was soon to be married; by custom the son-in-law would live with Nohpat’s family for a year and work the fields. After that, they would move and add their hut to the son-in-law’s family compound.

The son of Nohpat was young, strong and capable of carrying on the farming traditions. He was not yet seeking a wife.

Yohl Ik’nal focused her intuitive senses upon each family member, seeking a source of unhappiness. It came to her immediately and strongly: hopeless discontent in the son, heart-rending sorrow in the mother, confused irritation in the daughter and simmering anger in the father, Nohpat. An unhappy family indeed. A family that did not understand the source of the problems, felt unable to cope with the issues, and saw no solutions. The son appeared to be the key in this conflicted family.

Yohl Ik’nal asked the names of the family members: Halil the wife, Tz’un the daughter, and Uxul the son. She began in friendly conversation with Halil, asking about her tasks and how she spent the day. The worried-looking woman began hesitantly but soon warmed to the subject, basking in the Holy Lady’s interest. After a while, the ruler asked Tz’un about her upcoming marriage and her hopes for a family of her own. The young woman was eagerly anticipating the creation of her own family; she seemed relieved to talk about a pleasant future. When the ruler addressed Uxul, the atmosphere had relaxed somewhat. He began by describing his work in the fields, but without enthusiasm. Yohl Ik’nal asked if he enjoyed doing any other activities. A spark lit his eyes, but he hesitated and glanced toward his mother. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“To carve wood and stones, this is something I enjoy,” the young man said.

“Carving is a fine skill and a talent not possessed by many. Have you carved for very long?”

“For as long as I can remember, Holy Lady.”

“He began almost before he could walk,” his mother added. “His fingers knew how to use the flint knife sooner than he could speak many words.”

From the side, Nohpat grumbled: “He wastes many hours making useless decorations. Better he should make traps or spearheads for hunting.”

Tension immediately surged in the family and the spark in Uxul’s eyes dimmed. Halil’s face took on an expression of profound sadness. Tz’un looked off into the distance as if she wished she were far away.

“Have you here some of your carvings?” asked Yohl Ik’nal.

“Yes, Holy Lady,” Uxul answered, avoiding his father’s sullen gaze.

“Then bring them forth. I would see your work.”

Uxul disappeared behind the hut and soon returned with several pieces of carved wood and a few small stone figures. He carefully laid them before his ruler. One of the court nobles lifted the pieces for Yohl Ik’nal to examine. She turned the carvings between her hands and traced the graceful curves with her fingers. Here was the work of an untrained master, exquisite in proportion and detail. Jaguars, quetzal birds, turtles, bats, peccary, snakes, crocodiles, hawks nearly leaped from wood squares with intricate borders of vines and flowers. Faces of men and women in profile graced squares bordered by geometric patterns. Figures of gods and goddesses in full regalia and classic postures enlivened smooth rock. The young man had obviously visited frescoes and tablets in Lakam Ha and made drawings from which to produce such exact reproductions. Perhaps he had also seen codices, though how he managed that was a mystery.