The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) (27 page)

Musicians played softly in the background, lilting wooden flute melodies hovering over gentle rhythms of hide drum and gourd rattles. Groups of ahauob sat together on mats eating, drinking and talking, while some wandered around the area mixing with other groups. The royal family’s mats were on the largest terrace, where they sat surrounded by their closest courtiers and relatives. Sak K’uk and Kan Mo’ Hix were enjoying the savory food, giving compliments to ahauob who had provided certain outstanding dishes. Yaxun Xul sat behind them, propped by pillows against the chamber wall. He was very elderly and absent several teeth, but would not miss the celebration and feasting. Attendants selected the softest food and kept him regularly supplied with balche.

Pasah Chan and his very pregnant wife Kab’ sat nearby as Sak K’uk inquired solicitously about how she was feeling. The two women discussed childbearing while the men engaged in topics mostly related to hunting and the condition of crops. Pakal remained beside his family until he finished eating, then excused himself and went to join a group of young men standing close to the terrace. They greeted him with effusive compliments and deep bows, which he gracefully acknowledged. Standing almost a head above most men, Pakal was among the tallest Maya that the region had ever seen. It made him easy to identify in a crowd, even without an official headdress.

The architect Yax Chan eagerly drew Pakal into the conversation.

“It is good you have joined us, we were hearing of some remarkable structures being developed at Pa’chan. Here is our visitor, Ho’ Tok from the city of Nab’nahotot. He travels with his father’s traders. They recently returned from a long voyage up the K’umaxha River and stayed at Pa’chan.”

Pakal and the young noble from Nab’nahotot bowed to each other.

“Welcome to Lakam Ha,” said Pakal. “You have traveled an impressive distance. Is not your city located on the coast of the Great Sea of the West?”

“That is correct, Yum Ahau,” replied Ho’ Tok, using the formalized phrase meaning Master Lord. “We have traveled for nearly one tun, and I am most eager to complete the trip and return home. From here, it requires less than one uinal.”

“Has your trading been successful?” inquired Pakal.

“Most certainly. My father will be pleased with the fine inland fabrics, obsidian, and wood we obtained, as well as magnificent feathers from highland birds. Although not much remains of our coastal products, we have traded well here in Lakam Ha for our salt, seashells, and ritual stingray spines. Your pottery and weaving is exquisite, we are bringing a good supply home.”

“Not the least due to the brilliant designs of our scribe, K’anal, transferred onto ceramic bowls and cups by our potters,” added Ikim, whose family specialized in fine ceramics.

K’anal bowed to Ikim and added, “Where would a scribe’s designs be without gifted potters to provide the vessels for their display?”

“On bark codices? On carved glyphs?”

“On jewelry? On painted panels?”

The young men laughed as K’anal shrugged and raised both hands in the gesture for “of course.”

“But more about the Pa’chan structural designs,” Yax Chan insisted. “Although Lakam Ha does not have congenial relations with this city, we hear about its impressive location rising up the steep slopes that ascend from the K’umaxha River.”

“It is located in a sharp u-shaped bend of the river, making it almost an island. With its height, the river below, and more tall mountains filling the space behind the city, it is readily defendable and cannot easily be assailed,” remarked Ch’amak, a distant cousin of Pakal and emerging warrior leader.

“That is so, and its alliance with Kan makes it even more impregnable,” said Pakal.

“Pa’chan does have one serious problem in the well-being of the people, however,” said the visitor Ho’ Tok. “The terrain upon which the city is built cannot be farmed, because it is too steep and rocky. The river cuts the city off from flatter lands on the other bank that serve as their fields. The K’umaxha is a very wide river. During the summer season when the river flows gently, crossing in canoes is no problem. In the winter during the rains, however, the water rises more than two men’s height. The river becomes a raging torrent, carrying uprooted trees and brush in its wake. Canoes cannot readily cross because of the treacherous currents and debris. If the rainy season is long, the farmers have difficulty getting across to begin spring planting. If fall rains start early, they cannot harvest their crops efficiently. Many men and canoes have been lost to the river’s fury.”

“So they need a bridge,” observed Pakal.

“Exactly!” said Yax Chan excitedly. “That is the remarkable structure their engineers are now developing, as Ho’ Tok explained to me. It must be a long span bridge because the river is so wide. This demands new technology, new ideas of bridge building.”

“Here is what I learned about their plans for this long span bridge,” expounded Ho’ Tok, having captured the full attention of all. “You are familiar with medium span bridges that use heavy stone and concrete pillars on each bank, with high strength timbers spanning the pillars and cross-decking covered with a plaster coat. I saw one such bridge in your city, and several short span bridges of simpler support. A long span bridge requires structures of lightweight tension members. They must use geometry principles based on pure tension, not massive strength in pillars to bear the weight. Higher strength materials and lighter gravity loads are necessary. How does this get accomplished? By using a cable suspension structure.”

Several young men nodded, but Pakal frowned quizzically.

“We are familiar with rope and wood suspension bridges across canyons. Several are built along mountain trails,” he said. “But these bridges cannot carry much weight and certainly would not span a river so wide. How is their design different?”

Yax Chan appeared delighted at Pakal’s question and jumped in before Ho’ Tok could respond.

“This is what makes the design brilliant! They have conceived of building tall concrete and stone support towers, placing two in the river not far from each bank. These towers will be tall enough to hold the bridge well above water level at flood stage. The roadway will be held up by high-tension sisal rope, connecting to grooved stones embedded high in the towers. Lines of rope attach in an upturned crescent moon (parabola) configuration to the crossbeams made of high strength timbers. Wooden planks will span between the crossbeams and be covered with a thin plaster coat. On each river bank, elevated causeways will be constructed at the height of the roadway, the west causeway leading into the main city plaza that borders the river, and the east causeway linking to a sakbe that connects to paths into the fields.”

“The architects of Pa’chan are already familiar with building on steep hillsides,” added Ho’ Tok. “Their main city plaza is considerably higher than the river bank, to avoid flooding. Constructing tall towers to hold suspension cables that support the bridge is not a great challenge.”

“What about placing the tower foundations within the river? How will that be accomplished?” asked Pakal.

“Of course they must construct the foundations when the river is at its lowest,” explained Ho’ Tok. “They will use large, heavy masonry stones carved exactly, so their fit is tight. Then cast in place concrete and rubble will be put inside, it will dry and set up in time. From there the tower column is built upward in the usual manner. Engineers are now calculating the exact placement of the towers, determining how long a section can be supported between them given the maximum number of people assumed to walk across the bridge at one time, plus the dead load of the roadway deck. The bridge deck will be wide as half a man, and the hemp cable system made of ropes half the span of a hand.”

“It can work, I have done some calculations and it appears all the tension and gravity forces are adequate,” said Yax Chan.

“This is truly remarkable,” Pakal acceded. “If they accomplish it, this will be the longest suspension bridge in the Maya region.”

“A thing of awesome beauty,” Yax Chan effused, making hand gestures of admiration.

Laughter rippled among the young men, and Ch’amak patted his shoulder.

“Spoken like an architect,” he said.

“Ah, but here come other things of great beauty,” observed K’anal.

All heads turned to watch as three young women crossed the patio, weaving among the seated feasters, stopping to bow, touch fingers and chat.

“Who are those girls?” asked Pakal.

“Hmmm, let me see… Yonil, daughter of my kinsman and yours, Oaxac Ok; Tulix and Muyal who are sisters in the family of Chakab the Nakom,” said Ch’amak.

“Lovely young women grace your city,” Ho’ Tok observed.

“Without doubt, and there are more,” Ikim assured him.

“How goes your courtship with Muyal?” teased K’anal.

Ikim smiled and spread his fingers suggestively, murmuring “Not so badly.”

“And you, Pakal? Now you are a man, is it not time to seek a woman?” said Yax Chan. “Rather, a young woman as your royal consort, not just the Lunar Priestess.”

Smiles passed among the young men, for all had received sexual training from Lunar Priestesses, as was the custom for nobles. These priestesses acted in professional and sacred capacity, and could never marry. Once the training was complete, they never interacted with their students again. They kept to themselves, secluded in the Temple of the Moon. Their position and responsibility were highly respected; for the price was exclusion from the main course of life and relinquishing their opportunity for a family.

Pakal shrugged and made a dismissive gesture, but his eyes lingered on the lithe forms of the young women.

The feasting was nearing completion and attendants began removing bowls, cups and platters. A large contingent of musicians gathered on one side of the patio while guests folded their mats and moved to the edges, leaving the center clear for dancing. Some of the elders made evening-end acknowledgements to the royal family and left; some mothers departed to attend their children. Pasah Chan’s wife also returned home as her pregnancy made her tired, but he remained next to Sak K’uk and Kan Mo’ Hix, whose aged father had sought his bed earlier.

Sak K’uk looked around for Pakal, but the group of young men with whom he was talking had dispersed. She could not locate him among the milling group waiting to begin dancing.

“Ah, well,” she thought, “he has precious little time to enjoy simply being a young man, let him be with his companions.”

As if he read her thoughts, Kan Mo’ Hix remarked,

“Our Pakal seems to be enjoying his manhood celebration.”

“So it appears,” she replied. “It is good to see him relaxed and talking with the young men. Usually he is solemn and focused upon his duties.”

“That is so. Perhaps his responsibilities can be sweetened with someone to lift his spirits in his chambers. He is well grown into manhood. It is time we seek a suitable noble woman for his wife.”

Sak K’uk was startled by her intense response to this suggestion. Her gut wrenched and a flash of anger surged, making her reply testily to her husband.

“He has only now reached adulthood, surely it is soon to make such a significant move. Give him time to become comfortable assuming more leadership duties. There is much additional training to undertake, is that not so, Pasah Chan?”

The High Priest carefully considered his reply, not wishing to offend either by taking sides.

“Plumbing the depths of our people’s wisdom and history, perfecting spiritual practices and shamanic techniques, these are the work of a lifetime,” he equivocated.

“Exactly!” responded Kan Mo’ Hix. “Pakal will keep studying for katuns. Finding a suitable wife and starting a family need not be delayed. It will take time to identify a woman of proper bloodlines, with whose family it is advantageous to form strategic alliances. The process should begin.”

Sak K’uk made a dismissive gesture. The thought of another woman becoming close to her son, sharing the intimacy of his bedchamber, pained her heart. She had only just revived their closeness and treasured it beyond measure. Every fiber of her being resisted the idea of his marrying any time soon.

“You are pushing this too rapidly, Kan Mo',” she said firmly, holding on to her temper. “Let us discuss it another day.”

“You are not being reasonable,” he retorted. “This is but a common sense step following transition to adulthood ceremonies. Why you desire to delay escapes me.”

Rising with abrupt movements that bristled with annoyance, Kan Mo’ Hix strode away and merged into the crowd.

Pasah Chan raised his cup toward a servant, who filled it with more balche. He was well aware that Sak K’uk and Kan Mo’ Hix often argued, but he did not relish the tension it created. It put him in an awkward position.

Sak K’uk sat pensively, fingering her wrist bracelets. She shifted position to face the priest, her back toward the dancers filling the patio.

“Pakal is yet so young,” she murmured. “He must contend with so many forces, often at cross-purposes. Need we add another complication to his life?”

“It may be that he would find it a diversion, not a complication,” the priest offered.

“You are a married man. You know full well that having a spouse complicates your life. It certainly adds stresses to mine.”

Pasah Chan smiled ruefully, signaling accord.

“This idea must pass from Kan Mo’s mind for now. It is not necessary to seek a wife for Pakal. He has shown no interest yet in women,” she said with finality.

Pasah Chan wondered where to go with this conversation. The idea of seeking a wife for Pakal was much on his mind, although he had not discussed it with the parents. He glanced over Sak K’uk’s shoulder at the patio, and saw Pakal dancing close by with Yonil.

“That may be changing,” said Pasah Chan. “Look as he dances.”

Sak K’uk swiveled quickly toward the patio. The music pulsated in sensuous rhythms as singers joined voices in extolling the joys of spring, of life bursting forth in youthful vigor, of potency and fertility. Sweet harmonies rose and fell with measured drumbeats and lilting flutes as couples danced, facing closely and mirroring each other’s movements. Pakal danced with a slender young woman, her black hair swaying with each step as her arms snaked in parallel with his. Torchlight glistened on her warm brown skin and lit sparkles in her jewelry. Their eyes were locked, Pakal gazing down into her upturned, rapturous face. Her lips were slightly parted, wide and full and voluptuous. Her small firm breasts rose and fell with her breathing and she arched into him, their midriffs almost touching. As they turned into the next step, a slow twirl, her hand brushed against his exposed thigh and he smiled, allowing his arm to slide along hers although the dance did not call for touching.