The 2012 Codex Page 6

  “Everything was placed in the ceremonial center in a manner to please the gods,” Six Sky said. “The main temple is positioned according to the four cardinal points of the One-World, as is the observatory in which star-watchers study the gods as they pass overhead each night.”

  Before we entered Lord Janaab’s grand palace, which was second in size only to the palaces of the king and the War Lord, Six Sky asked me if I had heard the story behind the founding of Mayapán. For once there was something about the city that I did know.

  “The god-king, Quetzalcoatl,” I said, “built both Mayapán and Chichén Itzá after he left Tula in the north. They are similar in design, but the temples and buildings of Chichén Itzá are larger and grander.”

  “Say that to our lord, and he will flay you to the bone.” Six Sky glanced around to make sure he wasn’t overheard, then said, “But it’s true. The buildings and temples of Chichén are grander, but Chichén is no longer a great city. It is now a vassal of our king, along with Uxmal, which is even older than either Chichén or Mayapán. But now both cities pay tribute to our king.”

  As a storyteller, I knew the tale of how a Mayapán king had gained hegemony over the larger and more powerful city of Chichén Itzá: A Chichén king stole the bride of the king of Mayapán during wedding festivities. Because of the insult, other cities aided the ruler of Mayapán in sacking Chichén Itzá.

  “With so many problems facing the kingdom,” Six Sky said, “and rumors that the gods no longer listen to the king, he has put a great emphasis on the katun refurbishing. Lord Janaab is in charge of the katun building projects, and now you are playing a role.”

  Six Sky gave me a sly grin. “Do not fail to heed this warning, you who broke a jaguar’s neck. Our Lordship is now convinced that erroneous inscriptions have provoked the gods’ wrath and created many of our problems. Find the ones that have erred. Make no errors yourself. And watch your back. There are many powerful people in the city who would like to see Lord Janaab’s fall. He will tell the king about you and your task to correct the inscriptions. Lord Janaab’s enemies would be pleased if you fail.”

  Six Sky saw the look on my face and laughed. “Lord Janaab’s enemies would be so pleased that you failed, they would gladly assist you in that fiasco.”

  “I will not fail,” I said.

  “For sure, you won’t fail more than once, because the temple priests will cut out your heart before you are given a second chance. Come, jaguar killer, let me show you to your grand quarters.”

  15

  The room was small, no more than four paces wide and six long, with a large window that looked out at the center courtyard that the palace was built around. A sleeping hammock made of netted cords hung from ropes.

  “You’re lucky, country boy. It is the largest room given to single men, and only one other has one—and he is the head cook of the palace.”

  I already knew from talk during the trip that unmarried servants and guards lived in a common room, while married couples shared a room like mine, only larger.

  I was alone in my room for only an hour when a servant came and escorted me to Lord Janaab’s reception chamber, where he conducted the affairs of a High Lord. He sat in a thronelike chair in the high-ceilinged room while servants and visitors came before him.

  When I arrived, he had everyone leave the room except four of his guards.

  A guard brought a chair and sat it next to where I stood, ten feet in front of the High Lord.

  “Sit,” Lord Janaab commanded.

  As soon as I sat, a guard put an obsidian blade to my throat. I flinched—but instantly froze. The cutting edge of the rock, spewed out by fire mountains, could cut halfway through my neck with little pressure.

  “Your Lordship—”

  “Don’t talk, don’t move, or your throat will be cut.”

  I sat perfectly still as my hands were tied to the arms of the chair and my feet to the legs.

  “You lied to me when I asked you what you knew about the Dark Rift. Tell me what Ajul told you.”

  “He told me nothing, Your Lordship.”

  He nodded to a guard. “Introduce him to your friend.”

  The guard opened a wicker basket and lifted a snake from it that was tied to a length of wood. I recognized it—a poisonous serpent we call the jaguar snake because of its orange and black coloring. I saw a stoneworker die from the bite of one. The venom instantly paralyzed him, and his eyes opened wide in agony and shock until only the whites showed. His demise was excruciatingly painful, his death mask horrific to behold.

  Keeping a grip behind the snake’s head, the guard untied the serpent from the wood and turned to me, the snake wriggling in his grip.

  The blade went back to my throat so my head could not move as they brought the creature up to my lips and pushed the tip of its face up against them.

  “Untie the snake’s jaws,” Lord Janaab said.

  I hadn’t realized that a cord bound the snake’s mouth, since the thongs bore the same coloring as the serpent. The restraint was unfastened, and the viper opened its jaws wide, its long fangs unfolding from the roof of its mouth.

  The guard suddenly shoved the creature’s head into my face. I leaned back, sweat dripping down the side of my face, the snake so close, I could smell its putrid breath. It smelled like a corpse moldering in a sarcophagus.

  “Tell me what the storyteller told you about the Dark Rift,” Lord Janaab said.

  “Nothing,” I gasped, “nothing.”

  “Untie him and leave,” the great lord told his guards. “Take your pet with you.”

  When we were alone, I sat as if still paralyzed—my confrontation with the viperous fiend had unnerved me that much.

  My heart was no longer in my throat, but I was wet from sweat, and my legs shook with a life of their own.

  Lord Janaab gave me an appraising look. “You were either telling the truth or you are a lunatic who is indifferent to death. No man I suspected of lying has ever had the snake in his face and failed to confess his lie to me. Their reward for confessing is to have their heads severed quickly rather than to die slowly and agonizingly from snakebite.”

  He gave me another searching stare, as if he was still puzzled over something. “But still . . . you reacted oddly when I asked you about the Dark Rift.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but mention of the Dark Rift strikes fear in most people. Especially in these days, when the road to Xibalba seems crowded with so many.”

  “True, true. I’m glad you did not lie to me, because I can use your knowledge of the gods. Start tomorrow with my palace itself. Report any errors directly to me and no one else. The same goes for any other errors you find. You are to report them to me alone.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “After you finish the palace, observe the cenote in the ceremonial center. You will find its inscriptions are all exposed because the water level is low. Water is the nectar of life, and Chaac has shed few tears for us of late.”

  He dismissed me but spoke to me again before I left. I stopped and turned back.

  “You’ve guessed by now Ajul’s true identity.”

  I had guessed. And I didn’t dare lie about it. “It doesn’t seem possible,” I said. “An old man who tells stories in a small village is actually the storyteller to the gods themselves.”

  “Had you known Jeweled Skull before he fell into disfavor with the king, you would have realized he knew many things. Hiding his identity would have taken little effort on his part. He was a great storyteller—he simply told you simple villagers a tale that you accepted.”

  That made sense to me.

  “Forget that you know his name or that he was in your village. Never speak of it to anyone. There are those who would fry your feet over a hot fire to find out what you know about Jeweled Skull.”

  “Why? What could a storyteller know that would harm anyone?”

  “Perhaps the gods told Jeweled Skull something that would affect the enti
re kingdom, and he fled the wrath of the king.”

  Lord Janaab laughed, but I had no inkling as to what he found humorous about a threat to the kingdom.

  16

  Lord Janaab was standing on his balcony when Six Sky approached and made a throaty sound to alert the lord to his presence.

  “Come,” Lord Janaab said. “I have a special assignment for you.”

  The High Lord gave his captain of guards a dark look. “Since your men failed me when the jaguar attacked, I’ve considered having you join them in the sacrificial line. They were your responsibility; their cowardice is yours. I have not made up my mind yet whether I will paint you red.”

  Six Sky trembled and dropped to his knees. “Your Lordship, I failed you, but it won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right, it won’t happen again. I am giving you a special task, and you will not fail me. Without making it obvious, you are to keep an eye on Pakal Jaguar. You are not to let him believe that you are anything more than a friend and fellow member of my household. You are to report his activities directly to me and to no one else. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lord. What is your suspicion of him?”

  “Do not concern yourself with my motives. If he breathes, report it to me. However, any movement on his part other than his duty of checking inscriptions is to be reported to me immediately. To whom he talks, where he goes, anything beyond staring at walls.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Don’t let him know you are watching him. Act friendly toward him. I didn’t have you in the room when I tested him with the snake, so he will not identify you with my suspicions.”

  “Did he confess his transgressions to the snake?”

  “No, but that does not mean he was truthful. I’m sure he’s lying.” Lord Janaab scoffed at the confused look on Six Sky’s face. “You assume that everyone who faces the snake will be so terrified, they will confess. Pakal faced a jaguar. The snake made him experience fear but did not break his courage.”

  17

  I stood in my room and looked down at the courtyard below with strong emotions boiling inside, no longer feelings of fear, but of anger and rage. I could still smell the snake’s stinking breath, still feel its cold face pressed against my own.

  Lord Janaab had made a mistake, and he was a man who made few. He should never have tortured me. After the incident, I walked out of his chamber a different person. Fighting the jaguar had changed my life in one way. Staring into the eyes of the snake had changed me, too—had changed me on the inside. I had risked death for Lord Janaab, but he had betrayed my loyalty, my trust. True, he still commanded me and I obeyed, but only because he was my master.

  I would never again face almost certain death for him as I had when I rode the jaguar’s back.

  He treated me as if I were an enemy. It’s true, I had lied to the great lord and he was smart enough to suspect it. My only lie was honorable: I was sworn to Ajul not to reveal what he’d told me about the Dark Rift.

  Ajul was the only father I had known, and I would have died rather than break my word to him. When he told tales, it was as if they came from the lips of a god.

  Whatever trouble had forced him to flee the city was still there—as evidenced by the great lord’s actions.

  What had Six Sky said? Lord Janaab’s enemies would willingly cut my heart out if I failed at my task of checking inscriptions.

  After having a venomous viper shoved in my face, I realized that the quagmire I had stepped into was deeper than the writing on walls. And Lord Janaab had made it clear that he was my master, not my benefactor: He’d granted me a reprieve not out of gratitude for saving his life, but because he needed me to check the inscriptions.

  I suspected that the great lord had uses for me other than checking the accuracy of the inscriptions. His purposes had something to do with the royal storyteller, the king’s wrath, and the Dark Rift that led to the Underworld. Beyond that, I knew only I was utterly alone, ignorant, without friend or support, and fighting for my life.

  Eyo!

  18

  The months passed with more speed than I remembered time passing at the village, but I was much busier, moving around city streets, down the stairwells into cenotes, going inside buildings to check inscriptions that I could not see from the outside. I quickly learned that those inscribed before Jeweled Skull left the city were accurate and that only the ones made since his departure contained errata.

  Every day I encountered people who first stared at my facial scars, then at the claw hanging from the necklace around my neck. And quickly avoided me as if I had the plague.

  I was a man who’d killed a jaguar with his bare hands.

  That I’d broken its neck with a sturdy pole was ignored or forgotten.

  That made me different from other people. As my fears that erupted when Lord Janaab told me I was leaving my village and going with him to Mayapán attested, people are afraid of what they don’t understand.

  Six Sky told me that tales of my feat had grown until people claimed I slipped off the wings of an eagle and dropped out of the sky and onto the jaguar’s back—and they had been there to see it!

  Eyo! I would have liked to see that myself.

  Unfortunately, Six Sky was not pleased with my newfound fame or with the fact that I had achieved it because his own men had fled the jaguar. I had humiliated him before the High Lord, leaving him resentful and even jealous of me.

  I suspected Lord Janaab had ordered him to watch me. He was not good at being sly, and too often I caught him hovering about or following me for no good reason I knew of . . . except to keep track of me for Lord Janaab.

  Moving down a wall, I read the story of the Howler Monkey God. Howler monkeys screeched at dawn. No ordinary ape, the howler monkey was a patron-deity of scribes, sculptors, and musicians. The tale I was examining had this god writing a book and then carving a human head. A creation story, the book contained the people’s birth sign, and the head represented their life force.

  As I was carefully reviewing the glyphs for accuracy, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. At the other end of the long wall, a woman was bending over, writing on the wall.

  I couldn’t make out her features, because her head was covered with a scarf, but she appeared tall and slender.

  For anyone to write on a wall except professional artists commissioned by the owner of the property was forbidden.

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  I started toward her at a quick pace. As I did, she appeared to quickly finish what she was writing and slipped around the corner.

  By the time I reached the corner, she was out of sight.

  Going back to where she had been writing, I stared in shock. It said, Pakal—Royal Library—Blind—tell no one.

  Eyo! I went back to the corner and looked again, but she was gone.

  I returned to the inscription, stood, and stared at it, unable to comprehend why the message was meant for me.

  I saw Six Sky approaching. I took a cloth that I used occasionally for cleaning inscriptions and wiped away the writing she had done.

  “What was that?” Six Sky asked, indicating the spot I had cleaned.

  “A child with a piece of charcoal had defaced the tale of the Howler Monkey God. The god will be pleased that the scribbling has been wiped away.”

  Six Sky grunted. “We don’t need any more angry gods. The price of maize and beans has risen, causing many to starve. The king needs to talk more to the gods, get them to listen to him. Have you heard about the rebellion?”

  I shook my head.

  “The people of a High Lord whose lands are on the western edge of our king’s territory stormed the nobleman’s palace and killed him because he sold their maize for a high profit and left them without enough to eat. The king has sent soldiers to gather up the rebels. The gods will get their fill of blood when they return with them.”

  I said nothing, but privately hoped that the people escaped. But wh
ere would they go? All but those in a city were tied to the land, growing food, giving a portion to their lord and eating the rest. When a peasant couldn’t grow enough food to eat or a city worker no longer had a craft that paid for food, the only path in life was banditry. And a shortened life.

  “There is news also that our king and the king of Cobá have agreed upon a Flower War.”

  The news excited me. I was still young enough that war intrigued me.

  “Will you and I get to fight?” I asked.

  He gave me a laugh full of anger. “Never. Do you think Lord Janaab would permit his pet hero to go into battle and show everyone that his killing of the jaguar was an accident?”

  I was taken aback by the guard captain’s insult. I knew he resented me, but his bitterness was surprising.

  “You think you are too valuable to His Lordship to be sent off to war,” he said.

  I said nothing and simply stared.

  Perhaps I was.

  Why else would he be watching me, and why was I still alive?

  19

  The palace was a single large building surrounded by tall walls and replete with lush gardens inside the walls. It was not just the residence of the king, but also the heart of government, where all the kingdom’s business was transacted. At any time of day, hundreds of people would throng the compound, ranging from servants to merchants and the lords of the land. At night the king held great feasts.

  The Royal Library was part of the king’s compound.

  Lord Janaab went each day to the palace to meet with the king and give instructions to the king’s servants whose duties were to ensure that the city’s rebuilding went smoothly.

  My scroll of authority did not get me past the gate guards—but one look at my claw scars and the jaguar talon festooning my neck and they stepped aside, letting me pass.