HOW ZIBALBAY CAME HOME
For a while we stood unnoticed in the shadow of the doorway,
observing this strange and beautiful scene, till, as Zibalbay was
about to advance towards the throne, the Lord Tikal held up his
sceptre as a signal, and suddenly the women ceased from their dance
and song. At the sight of the uplifted sceptre, Zibalbay halted again
and drew back further into the shadow, motioning us to do likewise.
Then Tikal began to speak in a rich, deep voice that filled the hall:
“Councillors and Nobles of the Heart,” he said, “and you, high-born
ladies, wives and daughters of the nobles, hear me. But yesterday, as
you know, I took upon myself the place and power of my forefathers,
and by your wish and will I was proclaimed the sole chief and ruler of
the People of the Heart. Now I have bidden you to my marriage feast,
that you may grace my nuptials and share my joy. For be it known to
you that to-night I have taken in marriage Nahua the Beautiful,
daughter of the High Lord Mattai, Chief of the Astronomers, Keeper of
the Sanctuary, and President of the Council of the Heart. Her, in the
presence of you all, I name as my first and lawful wife, the sharer of
my power, and your ruler under me, who, whate’er betide, cannot be put
away from my bed and throne, and as such I call upon you to salute
her.”
Then, ceasing from his address, he turned and kissed the woman at his
side, saying:
“Hail! to you, Lady of the Heart, whom it has pleased the gods to lift
up and bless. May children be given to you, and with them happiness
and power for many years.”
Thereon the whole company bowed themselves before Nahua, whose fair
face flushed with pride and joy, and repeated, as with one voice:
“Hail! to you, Lady of the Heart, whom it has pleased the gods to lift
up and bless. May children be given to you, and with them happiness
and power for many years.”
“Nobles,” went on Tikal, when this ceremony was finished, “it has come
to my ears that there are some who murmur against me, saying that I
have no right to the ancient sceptre of _cacique_ which I hold in my
hand this night. Nobles, I have somewhat to say to you of this matter,
that to-morrow, after the sacrifice, I shall repeat in the ears of the
common people, and I say it having consulted with my Council, the
masters of the mysteries of the Heart. To-morrow a year will have gone
by since Zibalbay, my uncle, who was _cacique_ before me, and his only
child and heiress of his rank and power, the Lady Maya, my affianced
bride, left the city upon a certain mission. Before they departed upon
this mission, it was agreed between Zibalbay, Maya, the Lady of the
Heart, myself, and the Council, the Brotherhood of the Heart, that I
should rule as next heir during the absence of Zibalbay and his
daughter, and that if they should not return within two years, then
their heritage should be mine for ever. To this agreement I set my
name with sorrow, for then, as now, I held that my uncle was mad, and
in his madness went to doom, taking with him his daughter whom I
loved. Yet when they were gone I fulfilled it to the letter; but
trouble arose among the people, for they will not listen to the voice
of one who is not their anointed lord, but say, ‘We will wait until
Zibalbay comes again and hear his command upon these matters.’
“Also, Zibalbay being absent, there was no high priest left in the
land, so that until a successor was raised up to him, certain of the
inmost mysteries of our worship must go uncelebrated, thus bringing
down upon us the anger of the Nameless god. So it came about that many
pressed it on me that for the sake of the people and the welfare of
the city, I should shorten the period of my regency and suffer myself
to be anointed. But, remembering my promise, I answered them sharply,
saying that I would not depart from it by a hair’s breadth, and that,
come what might, two full years must be completed before I sat me down
in the place of my fathers.
“To this mind, then, I held till three days since, when those of the
people to whose lot it fell in turn to pass to the mainland, there to
cultivate the fields that are apportioned to the service of the
temple, refused to get them to their labour, declaring that the high
priest alone had authority over them, and there was no high priest in
the city. Then in my perplexity I took counsel with the Lord Mattai,
Master of the Stars, and he consulted the stars on my behalf. All
night long he searched the heavens, and he read in them that Zibalbay,
who, led by a lying dream, broke through the laws of the land and
wandered across the mountains, has paid the price of his folly, and is
dead in the wilderness, together with his daughter that was my
affianced and the Lady of the Heart. Is it not so, Mattai?”
Now the person addressed, a stout man with a bald head, quick,
shifting eyes, and a thick and grizzled beard, stepped forward and
said, bowing,
“If my wisdom is not at fault, such was the message of the stars, O
lord.”
“Nobles,” went on Tikal, “you have heard my testimony and the
testimony of Mattai, whose voice is the voice of truth. For these
reasons I have suffered myself to be anointed and set over you as your
ruler, seeing that I am the heir of Zibalbay by law and by descent.
For these reasons also--she to whom I was affianced being dead--I have
taken to wife Nahua the daughter of Mattai. Say, do you accept us?”
Some few of the company were silent, but the rest cried:
“We accept you, Tikal and Nahua, and long may you rule over us
according to the ancient customs of the land.”
“It is well, my brethren,” answered Tikal. “Now, before we drink the
parting-cup, have any of you ought to say to me?”
“I have something to say to you,” cried Zibalbay in a loud voice from
the shadows wherein we stood at the far end of the hall.
At the sound of his voice, the tones of which he seemed to know, Tikal
started and rose in fear, but, recovering himself, said:
“Advance from the shadow, whoever you are, and say your say where men
may see you.”
Turning to his daughter and to us, Zibalbay bade us follow him, and do
as he did. Then, veiling his face with a corner of his robe, he walked
up the hall, the crowd of nobles and ladies opening a path till we
stood before the throne. Here he uncovered himself, as we did also,
and standing sideways, so that he could be seen both by Tikal and all
that company, he opened his lips to speak. Before a word could pass
them a cry of astonishment broke from the nobles, and of a sudden the
sceptre fell from the hand of Tikal and rolled along the floor.
“Zibalbay!” said the cry. “It is Zibalbay come back, or the ghost of
him, and with him the Lady of the Heart!”
“Aye, nobles,” he said, in a quiet voice, although his hand shook with
rage, “it is I, Zibalbay, your lord, come home, and not too soon, as
it would seem. What, my nephew, were you so hungry for my place and
power, that you must break the oath you swore upon the Heart, and
seize them before the appointed time? And you, Mattai, have you lost
your skill, or have the gods smitten you with a curse, that you
prophesy falsely, saying that it was written in the stars that we who
are alive were dead, thereby lifting up your daughter to the seat of
the Lady of the Heart. Nay, do not answer me. Standing yonder I have
heard all your story. I say to you, Tikal, that you are a foresworn
traitor, and to you, Mattai, that you are a charlatan and a liar, who
have dared to use the holy art for your own ends, and the advancement
of your house. On both of you will I be avenged,--aye, and on all
those who have abetted you in your crimes. Guards, seize that man, and
the Lord Mattai with him, and let them be held fast till I shall judge
them.”
[image: img_209.jpg
caption: ‘It is I, Zibalbay, your lord, come home.’]
Now the soldiers that stood on either side of the thrones hesitated
for a moment, and then advanced towards Tikal as though to lay hands
upon him in obedience to Zibalbay’s order. But Nahua rose and waved
them off, saying:
“What! dare you to touch your anointed lord? Back, I say to you, if
you would save yourselves from the doom of sacrilege. Living or dead,
the day of Zibalbay is done, for the Council of the Heart has set his
crown upon the brow of Tikal, and, whether for good or ill, their
decree cannot be changed.”
“Aye!” said Tikal, whose courage had come back to him. “The Lady Nahua
speaks truth. Touch me not if you would live to look upon the sun.”
But all the while he spoke his eyes were fixed upon Maya, whose
beautiful face he watched as though it were that of some lost love
risen from the dead.
Now, as Zibalbay was about to speak again, Mattai the astronomer bowed
before him and said:
“Be not angry, but hear me, my lord. You have travelled far, and you
are weary, and a weary man is apt at wrath. You think that you have
been wronged, and, doubtless, all this that has chanced is strange to
you, but now is not the time for us to give count of our acts and
stewardship, or for you to hearken. Rest this night; and to-morrow on
the pyramid, in the presence of the people, all things shall be made
clear to you, and justice be done to all. Welcome to you, Zibalbay,
and to you also, Daughter of the Heart,--and say, who are these
strangers that you bring with you from the desert lands across the
mountains?”
Zibalbay paused awhile, looking round him out of the corners of his
eyes, like a wolf in a trap, for he sought to discover the temper of
the nobles. Then, finding that there were but few present whom he
could trust to help him, he lifted his head and answered:
“You are right, Mattai, I am weary; for age, travel, and the
faithlessness of men have worn me out. To-morrow these matters shall
be dealt with in the presence of the people, and there, before the
altar, it shall be made known whether I am their lord, or you, Tikal.
There, too, I will tell you who these strangers are, and why I have
brought them across the mountains. Until then I leave them in your
keeping, for your own sake charging you to keep them well. Nay, here I
will neither eat nor drink. Do you come with me,” and he called to
certain lords by name whom he knew to be faithful to him.
Then, without more words, he turned and left the hall, followed by a
number of the nobles.
“It seems that my father has forgotten me,” said Maya, with a laugh,
when he had gone. “Greeting to you all, friends, and to you, my
cousin, Tikal, and greeting also to your wife, Nahua, who, once my
waiting-lady, by the gift of fortune has now been lifted up to take my
place and title. Whatever may be the issue of these broils, may you be
happy in each other’s love, Tikal and Nahua.”
Now Tikal descended from the throne and bowed before her, saying, “I
swear to you, Maya----”
“No, do not swear,” she broke in, “but give me and my friends here a
cup of wine and some fragments from your wedding-feast, for we are
hungry. I thank you. How beautiful is that bride’s robe which Nahua
wears, and--surely--those emeralds were once my own. Well, let her
take them from me as a wedding-gift. Make room, I pray you, Tikal, and
suffer these ladies to tell me of their tidings, for remember that I
have wandered far, and it is pleasant to see faces that are dear to
me.”
For awhile we sat and ate, or made pretence to eat, while Maya talked
thus lightly and all that company watched us, for we were wonderful in
their eyes, who never till now had seen a white man. Indeed, the sight
of the señor, auburn-haired, long-bearded, and white-skinned, was so
marvellous to them, that, unlike the common people, they forgot their
courtesy and crowded round him in their amazement. Still, there were
two who took small note of the señor or of me, and these were Tikal,
who gazed at Maya as he stood behind her chair serving her like some
waiting slave, and Nahua his wife, who sat silent and neglected on her
throne, sullenly noting his every word and gesture. At length she
could bear this play no longer, but, rising from her seat, began to
move down the chamber.
“Make room for the bride, ladies,” said Maya. “Cousin, good-night, it
grows late, and your wife awaits you.”
Then, muttering I know not what, Tikal turned and went, and side by
side the pair walked down the great hall, followed by their guard of
soldiers.
“How beautiful is the bride, and how brave the groom!” said Maya, as
she watched them go, “and yet I have seen couples that looked happier
on their wedding-day. Well, it is time to rest. Friends, good-night.
Mattai, I leave these strangers in your keeping. Guard them well--and,
stay, bring them to my apartments to-morrow after they have eaten, for
if it is my father’s will, I would show them something of the city
before the hour of noon, when we meet upon the temple-top.”
When she had gone, Mattai bowed to us with much ceremony and begged us
to follow him, which we did, across the courtyard and through many
passages, to a beautiful chamber, dimly lighted with silver lamps,
that had been made ready for us. Here were beds covered with silken
wrappings, and on a table in the centre of the room cool drinks and
many sorts of fruits, but so tired were we that we took little note of
these things.
Bidding good-night to Mattai, who looked at us curiously and announced
that he would visit us early in the morning, we made fast the copper
bolts upon the door and threw ourselves upon the beds.
Weary as I was, I could not sleep in this strange place, and when,
from time to time, my eyes closed, the sound of feet passing without
our chamber door roused me again to wakefulness. Of one thing I was
sure, that Zibalbay was not wanted here in his own city, and that
there would be trouble on the morrow when he told his tale to the
people, for certainly Tikal would not suffer himself easily to be
thrust from the place he had usurped, and he had many friends.
Doubtless it was their feet that I heard outside the door as they
hurried to and fro from the chamber where Mattai sat taking counsel
with them. What would be our fate, I wondered, in this struggle for
power that must come? These people feared strangers--so much I could
read in their faces--and doubtless they would be rid of us if they
might. Well, we had a good friend in Maya, and the rest we must leave
to Providence.
Thinking thus, at length I fell asleep, to be awakened by the voice of
the señor, who was sitting upon the edge of his bed, singing a song
and looking round the chamber, for now the daylight streamed through
the lattices. I wished him good-morrow, and asked him why he sang.
“Because of the lightness of my heart,” he answered. “We have reached
the city at last, and it is far more splendid and wonderful than
anything I dreamed of. Also the luck is with us, for this Tikal has
taken another woman in marriage, who, to judge from the look of her,
will not readily let him go, and therefore Maya has no more to fear
from him. Thirdly, there is enough treasure in this town, if what we
saw last night may be taken as a sample, to enable you to establish
three Indian Empires, if you wish, and doubtless Zibalbay will give
you as much of it as you may want. Therefore, friend Ignatio, you
should sing, as I do, instead of looking as gloomy as though you saw
your own coffin being brought in at the door.”
I shook my head, and answered:
“I fear you speak lightly. There is trouble brewing in this city, and
we shall be drawn into it, for the struggle between Tikal and Zibalbay
will be to the death. As for the Lady Maya, of this I am certain,
that--wife or no wife--Tikal still loves her and will strive to take
her; I saw it in his eyes last night. Lastly, it is true enough that
here there is boundless wealth; but whether its owners will suffer me
to have any portion of it, to forward my great purposes,--useless
though it be to them,--is another matter.”
“There was a man in the Bible called Job, and he had a friend named
Eliphaz,--I think you are that friend come to life again, Ignatio,”
answered the señor, laughing. “For my part, I mean to make the best
of the present, and not to trouble myself about the future or the
politics of this benighted people. But hark, there is someone knocking
at the door.”
I rose, and undid the bolt, whereon attendants entered bearing goblets
of chocolate, and little cakes upon a tray. After we had eaten, they
led us to the baths, which were of marble and very beautiful, one of
them being filled with water from a warm spring, and then to a
chamber, where breakfast was made ready for us. While we sat at table,
Mattai came to us, and I saw that he had not slept that night, for his
eyes were heavy.
“I trust that you have rested well, strangers,” he said courteously.
“Yes, lord,” I answered.
“Well, it is more than I have done, for it is my business to watch the
stars, especially my own star, which just now is somewhat obscured,”
and he smiled. “If you have finished your meal, my commands are to
lead you to the apartments of the Lady Maya, who wishes to show you
something of our city, which, being strangers, may interest you. By
the way, if I do not ask too much, perhaps you will tell me to what
race you belong,” and he bowed towards the señor. “We have heard of
white men here, though we have learned no good of them, and tradition
tells us that our first ruler, Cucumatz, was of this race. Are you of
his blood, stranger?”
“I do not know,” answered the señor, laughing. “I come from a cold
country far beyond the sea, where all the men are as I am.”
“Then the inhabitants of that country must be goodly to behold,”
answered Mattai gravely. “I thank you for your courtesy, Son of the
Sea, in answering my question so readily. I did not ask it from
curiosity alone, since the people in this city are terrified of
strangers, and clamour for some account of you.”
“Doubtless our friend Zibalbay will satisfy them,” I said.
“Good. Now be pleased to follow me,”--and Mattai led us across courts
and through passages till we reached a little ante-room filled with
ancient carvings and decorated with flowers, where some girls stood
chatting.
“Tell the Lady Maya that her guests await her,” said Mattai, then
turned to take his departure, adding, in a low voice, “doubtless we
shall meet at noon upon the pyramid, and there you will see I know not
what; but, whatever befalls, be sure of this, strangers, that I will
protect you if I can. Farewell.”
One of the girls vanished through a doorway at the further end of the
chamber, and, having offered us seats, the others stood together at a
little distance, watching us out of the corners of their eyes.
Presently the door opened, and through it came Maya, wearing a silken
_serape_ that covered her head and shoulders and looking very sweet
and beautiful in the shaded light of the room.
“Greeting, friends,” she said, as we bowed before her. “I have my
father’s leave to show you something of this city that you longed so
much to see. These ladies here will accompany us, and a guard, but we
shall want no litters until we have ascended the great temple, for I
desire that you should see the view from thence before the place is
cumbered with the multitude. Come, if you are ready.”
Accordingly we set out, Maya walking between us, while her guards and
ladies followed after. Crossing the square, which had been the scene
of the festival of the previous night, but now in the early morning
was almost deserted, we came to the inclosure of the court-yard of the
pyramid, a limestone wall worked with sculptures of hunting scenes,
relieved by a border of writhing snakes, and at intervals by emblems
of the Heart. At the gateway of this wall we paused to contemplate the
mighty mass of the pyramid that towered above us. There is one in the
land of Egypt that is bigger, so said the señor, although he believed
this to be a more wonderful sight because of its glittering slopes of
limestone, whose expanse was broken only by the vast stair that ran up
its eastern face from base to summit.
“It is a great building,” said Maya, noting our astonishment, “and one
that could not be reared in these days. Tradition says that
five-and-twenty thousand men worked on it for fifty years--twenty
thousand of them cutting and carrying the stone, and five thousand
laying the blocks.”
“Where did the material come from, then?” asked the señor.
“Some of it was hewn from beneath the base of the temple itself,” she
answered, “but the most was borne in big canoes from quarries on the
mainland, for these quarries can still be seen.”
“Is the pyramid hollow, then?” I asked.
“Yes, in it are many chambers, for the most part store and treasure
houses, and beneath its base lie crypts, the burying-place of the
_caciques_, their wives, and children. There also is the Holy
Sanctuary of the Heart, which you, being of the Brotherhood, may
perhaps be permitted to visit. Come, let us climb the stair,”--and she
led us across the court-yard to the foot of a stairway forty feet or
more in breadth, which ran to the platform of the pyramid in six
flights, each of fifty steps, and linked together by resting-places.
Up these flights we toiled slowly, followed by the ladies and the
guard, till at length our labour was rewarded, and we stood upon the
dizzy edge of the pyramid. Before us was a platform bordered by a low
wall, large enough to give standing room to several thousand people.
On the western side of this platform stood a small marble house, used
as a place to store fuel, and as a watch-tower by the priests, who
were on duty day and night, tending the sacred fire which flared in a
brazier from its roof. Situated at some distance from this house, and
immediately in front of it, was a small altar wreathed with flowers,
but for the rest the area was empty.
“Look,” said Maya.
The city beneath us was built upon a low, heart-shaped island, so
hollow in its centre that once it might have been the crater of some
volcano, or perhaps a mere ridge of land inclosing a lagoon. This
island measured about ten miles in length by six across at its widest,
and seemed to float like a huge green leaf upon the lake, the Holy
Waters of these Indians, of which the circumference is so great that
even from the summit of the pyramid, a few small and rocky islets
excepted, land was only visible to the north, whence we had sailed on
the previous night. Elsewhere the eye met nothing but blue expanses of
inland sea, limitless and desolate, unrelieved by any sail or sign of
life. Amidst these waters the island gleamed like an emerald. Here
were gardens filled with gorgeous flowers and clumps of beautiful
palms and willows, framed by banks of dense green reeds that grew in
the shallows around the shores. So luxuriant was the vegetation,
fertilised year by year with the rich mud of the lake, and so lovely
were the trees and flowers in the soft light of the morning, that the
place seemed like a paradise rather than a home of men; and as was the
island, so was the city that was built upon one end of it.
Following the lines of the land upon which it stood, it was
heart-shaped--a heart of cold, white marble lying within a heart of
glowing green. All about it ran a moat filled with water from the
lake, and on the hither side of this moat stood a wall fifty feet or
more in height, built of great blocks of white limestone that formed
the bed-rock of the island, which wall was everywhere sculptured with
allegorical devices and designs, and the gigantic figures of gods.
Within the oblong of this wall lay the city; a city of palaces,
pyramids, and temples, or rather the remains of it, for we could see
at a glance that the population was unable to keep so many streets and
edifices in repair. Thus palm-trees were to be found growing through
the flat roofs of houses, and in crevices of the temple-pyramids,
while many of the streets and avenues were green with grass and ferns,
a narrow pathway in the centre of them showing how few were the feet
of the passers-by. Even in the great square beneath us the signs of
traffic were rare, and there was little of the bustle of a people
engaged in the business of life, although this very place had been the
scene of last night’s feast, and would again soon be filled with men
and women flocking to the pyramid. Now and again some graceful,
languid girl, a reed basket in her hand, might be seen visiting the
booths, where rations of fish from the lake, or of meal, fruit, dried
venison, and cocoa, were distributed according to the wants of each
family. Or perhaps a party of men, on their way to labour in the
gardens, stopped to smoke and talk together in a fashion that showed
time to be of little value to them. Here and there also a few--a very
few--children played together with flowers for toys in the shadow of
the palaces, barracks, and store-houses which bordered the central
square; but this was all, for the rest the place seemed empty and
asleep.