THE COUNCIL OF THE HEART
Now, when Tikal was gone I sat silent, for although it might be
necessary to save our lives, and to bring about the fulfilment of
Maya’s love, all this double-dealing did not please me, and I could
not talk of it with a light heart. But the señor said:
“I hope that yonder rogue, Mattai, may not have repented or been
over-bribed by Tikal, and set some other prophecy in the hollow of the
symbol, for then, Maya, you will be taken at your word, and things
will be worse than ever they have been.”
“I pray not, and it is not likely,” she answered, starting, then with
a quick burst of passion she added:
“But why do you look at me with such reproach, Ignatio? No, do not
answer, for I know why. It is because you think me a cheat and a liar,
and are saying in your heart, ‘This is a woman’s honour. Thus would
any woman act in the hour of temptation.’ Ignatio, with all your
courtesy, you hate and despise us women, looking on us as lower than
yourselves, as a snare to your strength and a pitfall for your feet.
Well, if so, thus we were made, and can we quarrel with that which
made us? Also, in some ways we are greater than you, though you may be
pleased to call yourselves more honest. _You_ would not have dared for
your love what I have dared for mine; _you_ would not have offered
deadly outrage to the god of your people, to the instinct of your
blood, and the teachings of your youth. No, you would have sat still
and wrung your hands and seen your lover perish before your face, and
then have turned your eyes to the sky and said: ‘It cannot be helped,
it is well; at least, _I_ am clean in the sight of heaven.’
“So be it: I, Maya, am of a different nature, I have dared all these
things and I joy in them, even though you watch me ever with your
melancholy eyes. Why should I not? Is not my love everything to me,
and is it shameful that this should be so? I believe no more in this
unknown god; why, then, should I fear to offend him? I will not see my
betrothed given up to death, and myself to worse than death; and how
can I harm my people by taking a man nobler than themselves to be my
husband? Cease, then, to reproach me by your silence; or, rather,
learn to pity me, for my strait is sore, and doubtless vengeance dogs
my heels. Let it fall, if it will, on me, but not on you,
beloved,--oh! not on you----” and suddenly her anger left her, and she
sank into the señor’s arms and lay there weeping bitterly.
Then I went to the further end of the hall and sat there reading the
ancient writings of this people, which we had found in the chamber.
Indeed, this was my daily occupation, for now I found that these
lovers liked to be alone, unless it happened that there were plans to
be thought out or counsel to be given. A shadow grew between me and
the señor in those days; for, though he said nothing of it, he also
was angry because I did not approve of the dark plot to which we were
parties, and Maya’s outburst spoke his mind with her own. Nor was this
wonderful, for now, looking back, I do not blame her or him, or think
that they did wrong, and I believe that what I really felt was not
indignation at a trick which might well be pardoned, seeing how much
hung to it, but superstitious fear lest some force, human or infernal,
should visit that trick with vengeance; for, as we know, even the
devils have power against us if we give it to them by fighting the
world with their own weapons.
On the following day the attendants who set our meals brought with
them clean robes for each of us, scented and wonderfully worked, and
for Maya certain royal ornaments. In these we arrayed ourselves before
evening, and waited. The hours passed, and at length the copper gates
were opened, and a band of nobles and guards presented themselves
before us, saying that they were commanded to lead us to the
Sanctuary. We answered that nothing would please us better, who were
heartily weary of living like rats in the dark, and in a few minutes
we found ourselves walking up the stairs towards the crest of the
pyramid.
We reached it, and saw the stars shining above us, and felt the breath
of heaven blowing in our faces, and never have the sight of the stars
or the taste of the night air seemed more sweet to me. Leaving the
watch-house we walked to the great stair across the lonely summit of
the pyramid and began to descend its side. At the foot of the stairway
we turned to the right till we came to a double door of copper,
beautifully worked, placed in the centre of the western face of the
pyramid, and guarded by a small body of soldiers, who saluted and
admitted us. Beyond the doors was a great hall not unlike that which
had served as our prison, lit with lamps, lined with polished marble,
and having on either side of its length doorways leading to the
apartments that were used as sleeping-places for the officers on duty.
At the threshold of this hall we were met by priests clothed in pure
white, into whose custody we were given by the company of nobles and
soldiers that had escorted us thus far.
Surrounded by the priests, who chanted as they walked, we passed down
the hall till we reached another and a smaller door. Beyond this lay a
labyrinth of steeply sloping passages, running in every direction deep
into the bowels of the rock beneath the pyramid. So intricate and
numerous were these tunnels, that, even with the assistance of the
lights which the priests carried, it would have been almost impossible
for any one not having their secret, to find a path through them, or
even to keep his face in a given direction for more than a few paces.
Along these passages our guides went without faltering, turning now to
the right, now to the left, and now seeming to retrace their
footsteps, till at length they halted to open a third door, covered
over with plates of beaten gold, on the further side of which lay the
most sacred spot save one in the City of the Heart, the chamber that
served the threefold purpose of a judgment-hall, a church wherein the
nobles attended worship, and a burial-place of the departed _caciques_
of the city. Here in this vast and awful vault, each of them set in
his own niche and companioned by his consort, stood the bodies of
every king-priest who had reigned in the holy city, enclosed in
coffins of solid gold, fashioned to the shape and likeness of the
corpse within, and having the name, age, date of death, and a brief
account of the good or evil that the man had done cut in symbols on
his breast. There they stood eternally, men and women made in gold,
and beneath their brows gleamed false eyes of emeralds. Numerous as
were the niches in the chamber, each had its tenants; and in the last
recess--that nearest to the entrance--stood a new comer; for here in
his gilded sheath was placed the corpse of Zibalbay, by the side of
her who had been his wife and Maya’s mother.
For a moment Maya paused to look upon the bodies of her parents, then
with a sigh and an obeisance she passed on, saying to me, “See, this
Hall of the Dead is full, there is no place left for me or for my
descendants, and surely that is an evil omen. Well,” she added, with a
sigh, “what does it matter where they set us when we are dead? For my
part I had sooner sleep in the earth, or beneath the waters, than
stand for ever cased in gold and glaring with jewelled eyes upon the
darkness. Yes, if I might, I should choose the earth that bore me, for
it would turn my flesh to flowers.”
Then we went on defiling before the silent company of the golden dead,
who seemed to watch us as we walked, till, passing round a
judgment-seat that was set near the end of the hall, we stood in front
of a little door over which burned great lamps. This door was guarded
by two priests with drawn swords, which they pointed towards us as a
sign that we should halt.
Then the priests who had escorted us so far fell back behind the
judgment-seat, and we were left alone.
“Give the sign, keepers of the gate,” said Maya.
Thereupon one of the men with the drawn swords uttered a low and
peculiar cry like to the wail of a child. When he had made this
strange sound thrice at intervals of about half a minute, it was
answered from within by another and a louder cry pitched upon the same
note. Then of a sudden the door was flung wide, and a stern-looking
man with a shaven head came through it.
“Who are you that seek entrance into the Sanctuary?” he asked; “are
you gods or devils, men or women?”
“We are two men and a woman,” answered Maya, “priests and priestess of
the Heart, and we come to take our trial before the Council of the
Heart, as is our right.”
“Do you know the open signs of the Heart, the signs of Brotherhood, of
Unity, and of Love, that you dare to stand upon the threshold of the
Sanctuary, to cross which is death to the ignorant?”
“We know them,” answered Maya. And one by one we gave those signs.
“Do you know the secret signs of the Heart, that you dare to cross
this threshold?” he asked again. “Otherwise get you back and take your
trial in the common judgment-hall.”
“I know them,” answered Maya, “and I vouch for these men who accompany
me. Suffer me, then, to enter, and these with me, for I am here by
ancient right, and I have knowledge both of the outward signs and the
inner mysteries.”
Now the man withdrew, and the door was closed behind him. Presently he
appeared again and said:
“I have reported to the Council, and it is the will of the Council
that you should enter.”
“Follow me,” said Maya to us, “and when you are spoken to make no
answer till I have vouched for you. I will answer for you.”
The priests let their swords fall, and, passing through the
doors,--for there were two of them connected by a short passage,--once
more we found ourselves standing beneath the mask of the Unknown god
in the Sanctuary of the City of the Heart. But now it was no longer
empty.
Behind the little altar were three stools, and upon them, clad in
wonderful apparel, and adorned with gold and gems, sat Tikal, Mattai,
and Nahua, who was the only woman present. In front of the altar was
an open space, and beyond its circle, each wearing the orders of his
spiritual rank, sat the Brethren of the Heart according to their
degree, to the number of thirty-six.
Led by Maya we advanced into the space before the altar, and stood
there in silence. None of those present took note of us; indeed, they
did not seem to see us, but sat with bent heads and with hands folded
crosswise on their breasts. At length one of the Brethren--he who was
nearest to the door, and had questioned us without--rose, and,
addressing Tikal, said:
“Keeper of the Heart, one who claims to be of our company stands
before you, and with her two for whom she vouches, who, although they
be strangers, by your command I have proved to be Brethren of the
Heart, though what more they may be I know not. Be pleased, then, to
prove them also by the voice of their sponsor, that their mouths may
be opened and their prayer come to the ears of the Council.”
At his words two of the brethren rose and blindfolded the señor and
myself, lest we should see the sacred signs, with all of which,
indeed, I was well acquainted, but Maya they did not blindfold. Then
we heard Tikal asking:
“How are you named who are strange to our eyes?” We made no reply, for
a voice in our ears cautioned us to be silent.
“We are named ‘the Son of the Sea’ and ‘Ignatio the Wanderer,’”
answered the voice of Maya.
“Son of the Sea, and Ignatio the Wanderer, why come you here,” asked
Tikal, “through the gate on which is written--‘Death to the Stranger
and to the Uninstructed.’”
“Because we have a prayer to utter, an offering to make, and because,
although we dwell in a far land, we are the servants of the Heart,”
answered Maya.
“How come ye here?”
“The Heart led, the Mouth whispered, and we followed the light of the
Eyes.”
“Show me the sign of the light of the Eyes, or die to this world.”
Now there was silence, and, though we could not see it, Maya showed
the sign on our behalf.
“Show me the second sign, the sign of the Mouth, or be cursed by the
Mouth, and die to this world and the next.”
Again there was silence.
“Show me the sign of the Heart, the third and greatest sign, lest the
Heart think on you, and ye die to this world, to the next world, and
all the worlds that are to be; lest ye be cast out between the Light
and Darkness, and lost in the gulf of fire that joins Heaven to Hell.”
Now we heard a sound of rustling, as though all the company had risen
and were prostrating themselves, and presently the bandages were
lifted from our eyes.
“Strangers,” said Tikal, “your mouths are opened in the Sanctuary
according to the ancient form, and it is lawful for the Council to
listen to your prayer. Speak, then, without fear.”
Then I spoke, saying:
“Brethren,--for so I will dare to call you, seeing that I also, though
a stranger, am of the Brotherhood of the Heart, as I can prove to you
if need be,--ay! and higher in rank than any present here, unless it
be you, O Keeper of the Heart: on my own behalf, on behalf of my
brother who also is of our company, and on behalf of Maya, Lady of the
Heart, daughter of him who ruled you, and heiress to his power, I
speak and make my prayer to you. It would seem that we three, together
with Zibalbay, who is dead and therefore beyond the execution of your
judgment, have violated the laws of this city,--we by daring to enter
its gates, and Zibalbay and the Lady Maya by leading us to those
gates. For this crime we should have been put to death eight days ago
upon the pyramid, had not the Lady Maya here claimed a right to have
our cause laid before this high tribunal. In her case and in that of
her father this was conceded, and I pray now that the same clemency
may be extended to me and to my brother.”
“Upon what grounds do you claim this, stranger?” asked Tikal.
“Upon the ground that we are Brethren of the inmost circle of the
Heart, and therefore have committed no crime in visiting this city,
which is free to us by right of our rank and office.”
Now there was a murmur of “True” from the Council behind me, and Tikal
also said “True,” but added, “If you are Brethren of the inmost circle
of the Heart, you are free from offence; but first you must prove that
this is so, which as yet you have not done. A brother of the inmost
circle knows its mysteries and can answer the secret questions. Come,
let us put you to the test, but first let the white man be removed
from the Sanctuary, for in this matter each must vouch for himself.”
Accordingly the señor was led away, and, the doors having been closed
and the lamps shaded, the oldest and most instructed of the
councillors stood forward and put me to the test with many questions,
all of which I answered readily. Then they commanded me to stand
before the altar, and, as Keeper of the Heart, to open the Heart in
the highest degree. This I did also, though afterwards they told me
that my ritual differed in some particulars from their own. After that
I took up my parable and questioned them till at length none there
could answer me,--no, not even the high priest or Mattai; and they
confessed humbly that I was more instructed than any one of them, and
because of this knowledge from that day forward I was held in
veneration in the City of the Heart.
Now I was given a seat among the Brethren,--the highest, indeed, after
those of the chief priest and the great officers,--and the señor was
summoned.
He entered with a downcast look, and while Maya and I watched him
sadly, his examination began. It was not long. At the second question
he became confused, used angry language in Spanish and English, and
broke down.
“Brethren,” said Tikal,--and there was joy in his eye, as he
spoke,--“it seems that we need not trouble further with this impostor.
By daring to enter our city he has earned the penalty of death;
moreover he has blackened his crime by claiming to be of our
Brotherhood, whereas he scarcely knows the simplest pass-word. Is it
your will that he should be taken to his fate? If so, speak the word
of doom.”
Now Maya rose affrighted, but, motioning to her to be silent, I spoke,
saying:
“Hear me before that fatal word is spoken which cannot be recalled!
This man is of our inmost Brotherhood, though he has not been formally
admitted to the inner circles, and has forgotten those of the
mysteries which were taught to him at his initiation. Listen, and I
will tell you how he came to join the Order of the Heart,”--and I told
them that tale of my rescue by the señor, and told them also all the
story of our meeting with Zibalbay and of our journey to the City of
the Heart, speaking to them for an hour or more while they hearkened
earnestly.
When I had done they debated as to the fate of the señor, and--though
by only one vote--decided that if I had nothing more to urge on his
behalf he must straightway die.
“I have something more to urge before you pass judgment,” I said in my
need and despair (speaking and acting a lie to save the life of my
beloved friend,--yes, I who had blamed Maya for this same deed),
“though it has to do with the mysteries of your religion rather than
with those of our Order. It was the belief of Zibalbay, who is dead,
that when the two halves of the ancient talisman--the halves Night and
Morning, that together make the perfect Day--are set in their place in
the symbol which once they filled before the dividing of peoples, then
it shall be made clear what part must be played by each of us
wanderers in the fate that is to be. To this end did Zibalbay
undertake his journey, and lo! here is that which he went to seek----”
and I drew the talisman from my breast. “Take it, Tikal, for I resign
it, and lay it with its fellow in the place that is prepared for them,
so that we may learn, and all your people may learn, what truth there
is in the visions of Zibalbay.”
“That is our desire,” answered Tikal, taking the severed emerald and
its counterpart which Maya gave to him. “Let the white man, Son of the
Sea, be placed without the Sanctuary and guarded there awhile, for so
at least he will gain time to prepare himself for death. Fear not,
lady,” he added, noting Maya’s anxious face, “no harm shall be done to
him till this matter of the prophecy is made clear.”
Now for the second time the señor was removed, and when he had gone
Tikal spoke, tracing the history of the prophecy so far as it was
known, and reciting its substance,--that when once more the two halves
of the symbol of the Heart were laid side by side in their place on
the altar in the Sanctuary, then from that hour the people should grow
great again.
“In all this,” he said, “I have little faith; still, Zibalbay, who in
his way was wise, believed it, and, the story having gone abroad, the
people clamour that it should be put to the test. Is this your will
also?”
“It is our will,” answered the Councillors.
“Good. Then let it be done, and on your heads be it if harm should
come of the deed. Mattai, the Council commands you to set these
fragments in the hollow of the symbol.”
“If such is the order of the Council I have no choice but to obey,”
said Mattai. “Yet, though none else have done so, I give my voice
against it, for I hold that this is childishness, and never did I know
any good to spring from prophecies,”--and he paused as though waiting
for an answer.
“Obey! Obey!” said the Council, for curiosity had got a hold of them,
and they craned their necks forward to see what might happen.
“Obey!” repeated Tikal. “But beware how you shake the Heart, lest the
legend prove true and we should perish in the doom of waters.”
Then Mattai set the two halves of the talisman in their place; and as
before, in the midst of an utter silence, lo! the symbol opened like a
flower. Leaning forward I saw the eye within its hollow; but it seemed
to me that the fire had faded from the heart of the jewel, for now it
gleamed coldly, like the eye of a man who is two hours dead. I think
that Mattai noted this also, for as the symbol opened he started and
his hand shook.
Now, when they saw the marvel, a gasp of wonder rose from the Council,
then Tikal spoke, saying:
“It seems that there was wisdom in Zibalbay’s madness, for the Heart
has opened indeed, and within it is a stone eye resting upon a plate
of gold that is covered with writing.”
“Read the writing!” they cried.
Displacing the eye, Tikal lifted the plate of gold and scanned it.
“I cannot,” he said, shaking his head. “It is written in a character
more ancient than any I have learned. Take it, Mattai, for you are
instructed in such signs.”
Now Mattai took the tablet and studied it long with an anxious face,
upon which at length light broke that changed anon to wonder, or
rather blank amaze, so that I, watching him, began to think, not
knowing all the cleverness of Mattai, that the señor was right, and
the tablet had been tampered with since we saw it.
“Read! Read!” cried the Council.
“Brethren,” he said, “the words seem clear, and yet so strange is this
writing that I fear my learning is at fault, and that I had best give
it to others to decipher.”
“No; read, read,” they cried again, almost angrily.
Then he read:
“This is the voice of the Nameless god that his prophet heard in the
year of the building of the Sanctuary, and graved upon a tablet of
gold which he set in a secret place in the symbol of the Sanctuary, to
be declared in that far-off hour when the lost is found and the signs
of the Day and the Night are come together. To thee it speaks, unborn
daughter of a chief to be, whose name is the name of a nation. When my
people have grown old and their numbers are lessened, and their heart
is faint, then, maiden, take to thyself as a husband a man of the race
of the white god, a son of the sea-foam, whom thou shalt lead hither
across the desert, for so my people shall once more prosper and grow
strong, and the land shall be to thy child and the child of the god,
east and west, and north and south, further than my eagles wing
between sunrise and set.”
Now, as Mattai read, the face of Tikal grew black with rage, and
before ever the echoes of his voice had died away, he sprang from his
seat crying:
“Whoever it was that wrote this lying prophecy, god or man, let him be
accursed. Shall the Lady Maya--for her it must be whose name is the
name of a nation--be given in marriage to the white dog who awaits his
doom without that door, and shall his son rule over us? First will I
see her dead and him with her!”
Then one of the oldest of the Council, a man named Dimas, who, as I
learned afterwards, had been foster-brother to Zibalbay, rose and
answered wrathily:
“It seems that these things must be so, Tikal, and beware how you
utter threats of death lest they should fall upon your own head. We
have called upon the god, and the god has spoken in no uncertain
voice. The Lady Maya must become wife to the white man, Son of the
Sea, and then things shall befall as they are fated.”
“What?” answered Tikal. “Is this wandering stranger to be set over me
and all of us?”
“That I do not know,” said the Councillor, “the writing does not say
so; the writing says that his son shall be set over us, and as yet he
has no son. But this is certain, that the Lady Maya must be given to
him as wife, and in her right he well may rule, seeing that she is the
lawful heir to her father, and not you, Tikal, although you have
usurped her place.”
Now many voices called upon Maya, and she stood forward and spoke,
with downcast eyes.
“What shall I say?” she began, “except one thing, that my will is the
will of the gods, and if it is fated that I should be given to the
white man in marriage, why, so let it be. For many years I was taught
to look elsewhere, but he who was to have been my husband--” and she
pointed towards Tikal--“chose himself another wife, and now I see that
he did this not altogether of his own will, but because it was so
decreed. One thing more. I, who am but a woman, have no desire to rule
or to take the place that the Lady Nahua holds. The writing says that
in a day to come, a far-off day, some child of mine, if indeed I am
that ‘daughter of a chief whose name is the name of a nation,’ shall
rule in truth. Let him then come in his hour and take the glories that
await him, and meanwhile, Tikal, do you sit in your place and leave me
to rest in peace.”
“The Lady Maya speaks you fair, Tikal, and my daughter,” said Mattai,
“and if the people will have it, you may do well to accept her offer,
leaving the future to shape itself. She says she is ready to take the
white man as a husband, but we have not yet heard whether the white
man will take her as a wife. It may be--” he added with a smile--“that
he will rather choose to die; but at the least we must have an answer
from his lips,--that is, if you accept this prophecy as sent from
heaven. Say, do you accept it?”
“We accept it,” answered the Council almost with one voice.
“Then let the white man, Son of the Sea, be brought before us,” said
Mattai.