The Visionary Mayan Queen: Yohl Ik'Nal of Palenque (34 page)

The Maya were sexually continent people. They viewed male and female sexual union as a sacred act, one that combined powerful creative energies and augmented inner spiritual processes. It was undertaken consciously and deliberately, treated with honor and respect. To overindulge sexually was to squander one’s life force, the
itz
that permeated all existence with sacred essence.

Sak K’uk was not troubled that her husband might lie with other women. This was not common practice among Maya ahauob, especially those in the highest positions. He was too focused on building personal power to waste any on such frivolities. She was troubled about his ambitions, his self-focused perspectives that fell short of true dedication to the welfare of the B’aakal polity and Bahlam dynasty.

Her thoughts returned to her wandering son. He was already precocious, walking and speaking early, exuding a magical presence that entranced those around him. Everyone basked in the radiance of his loving nature, kind and comforting. He certainly exhibited qualities of Yohl Ik’nal, his visionary grandmother, including the ability to elude attendants and explore other dimensions. Tunsel said he was communing with the sun on the hilltop; often he related to this deity as though he were actually the son of K’in Ahau.

“As indeed he is,” she mused.

Sak K’uk often brought Pakal with her on visits to the underground chamber, the most sacred shrine of Lakam Ha, the Sak Nuk Nah or “White Skin House.” When he had just passed his third solar year, she visited the shrine to honor her grandfather Kan Bahlam’s voyage to the celestial realms. Seated on the altar-throne in the hidden sanctum, she meditated with closed eyes while Pakal sat on a mat at her feet. After a short time of silence, the boy’s gleeful giggles interrupted her reverie. Too curious to concentrate, Sak K’uk peeked under lowered eyelids at her son.

Pakal was dancing in small circles, waving his hands furiously in the air. He lunged and swatted with one hand, then the other, and burst into a ripple of laughter. Next he jumped backward, danced in more circles, and repeated the gestures.

Sak K’uk could not contain her curiosity.

“What are you doing, Pakal?”

He glanced at her, but continued his movements.

“See, mother, see!” he exclaimed, pointing into the air at his chest level.

She focused where he pointed but saw nothing except wavering torchlight.

“Dearest, I do not see anything. What do you see?”

“The Baby Jaguar, see he plays with me.”

“The Baby Jaguar? Unan K’awiil in his baby jaguar form?”

“Yes, yes, do you see him? His paws, he paws at me, I jump away.” Pakal swatted again in the air and laughed. “He will not get me, I am fast!”

Sak K’uk frowned, squinting to bring ephemeral forms into sharper contrast, but was unable to see her son’s playmate.

“Much to my regret, I cannot see the Baby Jaguar.”

Pakal stopped his movements and stared at his mother, his surprised eyes conveying confusion.

“You cannot see him? He is here. . . oh, he has gone, mother you made Baby Jaguar go away!”

“Truly I am sorry, dearest,” she enjoined. “What did he look like?”

“Like Baby Jaguar!” Pakal said with annoyance, then softened and hugged his mother. “He has black spots, many spots, he lays on his back and waves his paws and wiggles his tail. He smiled at me, I saw his little fangs, but he was careful not to bite. He wants to play. He is very cute. I am sorry you cannot see him.”

“Perhaps I will see him the next time he comes to play with you. Does he come often?”

“Yes, often when we are in the White Skin House. First he watched me, today he played the most ever. Can we come here tomorrow? I want to play with Baby Jaguar.”

“Of course, my love. We can come very often.”

Sak K’uk was eager to discuss Pakal’s experience with the High Priest. To her knowledge, never before had such a young child with no training been visited by a Triad God – and been able to clearly see and interact with the deity.

2

Pasah Chan, High Priest of Lakam Ha, contemplated the significance of what Sak K’uk told him about her son. Although holding the exalted office as head of his city’s priesthood for less than five solar years, his lengthy preparation in calendric and occult arts and the rigorous selection process leading up to his nomination gave him confidence in his spiritual leadership. He searched his memory for similar scenarios in which very young children demonstrated unusual psychic and inter-dimensional abilities, but could not recall anything similar. Of course, Pakal’s grandmother Yohl Ik’nal was known for her skills at journeying since her middle youth and for her prowess as a seer later in life. As ruler she clearly embodied the Triad Gods in rituals and communicated with various deities. But at such an early age, to become playmate to Unen K’awiil? Of this he had never heard.

Tall for a Maya with sinewy limbs and slender frame, Pasah Chan came from a minor noble family fortunate enough to cultivate favor with the former High Priest Wak Batz. Through gifts and tribute that stretched the family’s resources, the eldest son gained admittance into priestly training. There he excelled, using his keen memory and natural intelligence to advance in studies. His aptitude for ruthless competition played no small role in his progress, and he became the old High Priest’s favorite acolyte. Partly through admiration for his command of esoteric knowledge, and partly due to his intimidating personality, the Council of Priests nominated Pasah Chan upon the passing of Wak Batz. He underwent the series of trials required of High Priest candidates to demonstrate his mastery over emotions, body functions, elements of nature, and spirit world assistants. In all tests he exceeded expectations.

The face of Pasah Chan resembled a bird of prey. Beaked nose overshadowed thin lips drawn tight against jutting cheekbones, half-lidded eyes held the penetrating glare of a hawk. Over his small-domed crown, dark hair crested from his narrow forehead, pushed upward by a feathered band with a long braid falling down his back. Although the crest was intended to mimic the elongated skulls of high-ranked elites, it did not conceal his defect. His parents had failed to apply the headboards used to elongate the skull properly during his infancy. Of this defect he was quite self-conscious.

His eyes narrowed into slits as he concentrated. Again he reviewed his conversation with Sak K’uk and her father, Hun Pakal.

“Surely this means Pakal is favored by Unen K’awiil, perhaps destined for rulership?” Sak K’uk tried to keep her voice tentative, but Pasah Chan could sense her conviction.

“The Baby Jaguar, designator of royal lineage, would not appear to such a young child were it not significant,” added Hun Pakal.

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Pasah Chan murmured, rubbing his chin. “Yes, it is most unusual, and the child is advanced for his age. Yes, this bears contemplation, to discern the hidden meanings and the intentions of the deity. I must reflect, seek precedence and spiritual guidance.”

Sak K’uk persisted.

“Would it not seem an indication to begin Pakal’s training early? His abilities are unfolding naturally, these must be shaped by adepts in the priesthood so the proper skills are developed.”

“And to keep him safe,” said Hun Pakal, thinking of Yohl Ik’nal’s untutored travels and the risks involved.

“Indeed, indeed, these are important considerations,” the High Priest replied. “It is highly irregular for a child not yet attained of four tuns to enter shamanic training, when the normal age for elite boys is seven tuns. His abilities are advanced for his age, of course, and this brings other elements into the situation. As you both note his own safety is a concern. And he is of ruling lineage with no heir yet born to the ruler, although that might change soon.”

Sak K’uk and Hun Pakal exchanged surprised glances. Pasah Chan gloated that he possessed information the two royals did not have. Just two days ago the Chief Priestess of Ix Chel informed him that Aj Ne Ohl Mat’s wife Hohmay was pregnant. After years of barrenness, the arts of the healing priestesses had finally succeeded in bringing about a conception. It was a precarious pregnancy founded on extreme measures, secrets the healers would not reveal. They had great concern over the outcome and planned ceaseless surveillance of Hohmay and a rigid protocol of diet, herbs, spiritual ritual and careful activity.

“The Ix Chel priestesses have assisted Homay to conceive.” Pasah Chan allowed the words to roll from his tongue deliciously, savoring their impact.

Sak K’uk could not conceal her shock. Hun Pakal looked crestfallen.

“Only two days ago was I informed of this momentous event,” continued the High Priest. “As you can imagine, the Ix Chel priestesses will be at her side every moment, and continue to apply their skills to support the pregnancy.”

“Ix Chel be praised,” Sak K’uk managed to mutter. “Truly her priestesses are exceptionally skilled, may all go well.”

“When is the child to be born?” asked Hun Pakal.

“In seven moons.”

“Should all go well. Truly remarkable. Yet the child may be a girl, leaving Pakal the more logical choice,” Hun Pakal observed.

“Given the great difficulty Hohmay had conceiving, perhaps it was impossible to follow all procedures to assure the child’s gender,” Pasah Chan admitted. “Although the Ix Chel priestesses do believe the child conceived is male.”

“But they are not certain,” suggested Sak K’uk.

“That is true. We will see, there is much that must pass until the pregnancy is culminated. Concerning Pakal, I will reflect upon his early entry into training.”

“This we deeply appreciate,” said Sak K’uk. Eyes bright with intense passion, she directed a piercing look at the High Priest.

“Pakal is destined for greatness. I have been given many signs of this, and have no doubt of its truth. My mother Yohl Ik’nal also envisioned Pakal bringing Lakam Ha to its zenith. He must be trained soon.”

Pasah Chan blinked, bringing himself into the present. That look in Sak K’uk’s eyes had shaken him, and her mother’s visions were always to be taken seriously. Was Pakal destined to rule Lakam Ha, to bring forth its apogee?

The High Priest intended to become even more important than his position demanded. He wanted to be the most powerful man in Lakam Ha, the shaper of its course, the master of rulers. Watching the current ruler Aj Ne Ohl Mat, observing the weakness of his leadership and his passive personality, gave Pasah Chan reassurance. He could easily influence and control this ruler, and most likely his progeny. The Council was divided and contentious, they could be manipulated and one contingent played against the other. Should rulership remain in this line, his goals were as good as accomplished.

But rulership in Sak K’uk’s lineage was another issue. Already Hun Pakal and Kan Mo’ Hix aggregated a strong group of supporters, ready to follow their leadership. Rumors circulated that Kan Mo’ Hix should be made ruler. He would certainly bring a stronger hand to leadership, but his impulsiveness might spark serious disruptions. Just how far the opposition group would go was an unknown. Civil strife and possible internal battle were unappealing possibilities.

If it was true that Pakal was destined for greatness, for rulership, then Pasah Chan was cultivating the wrong branch of the family. Maybe Hohmay would bear a son to keep succession in their line, but that was far from certain. He doubted the pregnancy would end successfully. If Pakal did become heir, and if he trained the boy from an early age . . . then his opportunity for influence was immense.

His brows knitted, Pasah Chan struggled to remember ephemeral images from ancient codices written in early forms of the Mayan language. Was there some distant prophecy about a great ruler, one whose mission was to guide his people to remember their celestial mandate, to inspire art and architecture that reflected cosmic harmony, to spark a creative vortex that would draw admiration from all parts of the world? Just beyond the fringes of memory some tantalizing fragments danced, but remained elusive. He must consult with the elderly priest who was the most revered codex expert.

The High Priest ascended the temple plaza as the sun caressed verdant peaks of the western mountains, sliding toward the distant great waters. Although the afternoon was warm, the old priest sat bundled in his blanket, cross-legged upon a low wall bench flanking the plaza. From this uppermost plaza of the High Priest’s Temple, a spectacular view spread below. Hazy plains rolled toward the horizon, patches of green mingling with golden fields of maize and olive leafed orchards. Like a traveling serpent, the Michol River curled across the plains, as towering trees that lined the river trailed lianas in its turbid waters. A few canoes plied the swift currents, hugging the banks as pilots propelled them with long poles.

The old man seemed oblivious of his visitor, eyes closed and head nodding in the sunlight. Pasah Chan noted the deeply wrinkled face, each crease representing cycles of time. Surely the old man had passed 104 tuns, twice the 52-tun age of elders. It was said that when 104 tuns were attained, the person had completed all the cycles of life and became living repositories of history and wisdom. Young people would sit in their hallowed presence to reflect upon time’s passages and the phases of earthly and celestial life. Simply to touch their wrinkled faces and hands was to receive blessings and attain deeper understandings.

Pasah Chan cleared his throat noisily. Slowly the old man turned toward him, watery eyes blinking and toothless mouth opening. His corneas were clouded and whitened. He tilted his head to obtain better view of this visitor, wrinkled lips pursing and popping like a gasping fish. His thin, clawed hands picked tremulously at the blanket.

“Greetings of the afternoon, Ah K’uch, Honored Ancient One,” said Pasah Chan. “It is good to enjoy Father Sun’s warmth, is it not?”

“K’in Ahau is good, he warms my old bones,” replied Ah K’uch in a high reedy voice. “Greetings to you, Pasah Chan, High Priest. How passes your day?”

“It is well, and I am happy to be with you again. May I join you?”

Ah K’uch nodded and gestured to the bench beside him. Moving his clouded gaze to the view below he gave a gummy smile.