Teoxi, now an old man--the fourth son of Uaxactun. the last absolute monarch of Tikal--sits on the banks of lake Peten-Itza and recalls the story of his life. Wishing to preserve a record of the events that led to the destruction of his homeland, his still-sharp eyes sweep the distant shore as he tries to put his memories in order.Born of an elderly father, Teoxi was looked after by priests, shielded from government matters, and--unlike his three older brothers--taught to be an intellectual rather than a warrior. But, because the future had unexpected events in store for him, his intellectual upbringing turned out to be of more use to him than his lack of military training.In his early manhood, an unforeseen event not only transfixed the nation but also steadily and permanently lured Teoxi away from his young life of amusements and intellectual pursuits, thrusting him headlong into a national crisis whose solution was crucial to the very survival of his country. After mere months into this growing turmoil, Teoxi's father realized that young Teoxi was the most qualified among his brothers to someday assume the Mayan throne.Now, Teoxi had to weave his way carefully through the squalid and dangerous world of the empire's leadership, struggle wearily yet confidently through entanglements of intrigue and treachery, move delicately between ancient myths and recent science, attempt to protect his family and country against internal and external threats, prepare for war with the powerful Aztecs, confront overwhelming and destructive acts of nature, and accept the undeniable fact that this young man of too few years had truly entered a living hell. To make matters worse, during his first timid steps from the solitude of the palace to a world of intrigue and danger, he fell at first sight for a girl below his class, and then moved inexorably toward a forbidden relationship that would preclude his ascension to the throne.This is the story of the young man Teoxi, committing the breadth of his will and fortitude to the needs of his people and, throughout it all, maintaining hope that his first love would someday share his days and nights. This is also the story of the old man Teoxi, sitting on the shores of the Peten-Itza seeing the things we cannot see and recounting for those in the world today, the world he knew so well.
Teoxi, Mayan Prince II. Montezuma's Rage
By Antonio GrimaldiAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Antonio Grimaldi
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4685-4955-3Contents
Preface.................................................................xiiiSummary of book one "The End of Tikal"..................................xixChapter 1 The Lord of the Marshes.......................................1Chapter 2 Life Without Peace............................................5Chapter 3 Revenge for Survival..........................................11Chapter 4 Hunted by the Aztec...........................................21Chapter 5 Mayan among Maya..............................................27Chapter 6 The "Hero" of Yaxuna..........................................37Chapter 7 A Treasure for the Man-God....................................43Chapter 8 Some Hope for the Mayan Nation................................53Chapter 9 At Shadow of the God Huitzilpochti............................59Chapter 10 Death! Death to the Maya!....................................65Chapter 11 The Revenge of the Man-God...................................75Chapter 12 The Robbers of Teotihuacan...................................89Chapter 13 Kakama, Prince of Darkness...................................101Chapter 14 The Search for the Treasure of the Mines.....................117Chapter 15 Returning the Terror.........................................127Chapter 16 Guanabana, Honey and.........................................153Chapter 17 With Peace, Fear Fades Away..................................161Chapter 18 Coming Out of the Trap!......................................171Chapter 19 Challenging Fate Again.......................................181Chapter 20 A New Assault on the Reign of Terror.........................193Chapter 21 II Would Not Dream of t!.....................................209Chapter 22 The Abduction of My Son......................................219Chapter 23 A Love, an Alliance..........................................233Chapter 24 Kuna: The Greatness of a People..............................245Chapter 25 The Lord of Oaxaca...........................................261Chapter 26 To the Shelter of the Refugees...............................267Chapter 27 A Creaking Empire............................................275Chapter 28 Montezuma's Treasure Chest...................................283Chapter 29 Four handfuls of Heroes......................................293Chapter 30 The Magnificence of Tenochtitlan.............................299Chapter 31 An Unexpected Meeting........................................307Chapter 32 The Grand Celebrations.......................................323Chapter 33 The Assault to Montezuma's Island............................331Chapter 34 "Betrayal!"..................................................337Chapter 35 The End of Montezuma.........................................345Chapter 36 A Victory Worse Than a Defeat................................349Chapter 37 Still Mocking the Enemy......................................359Chapter 38 Farewell to Tepey............................................365Chapter 39 The Triumph of Friendship....................................369Chapter 40 Few Trophies, No Booty.......................................379Epilogue More Haphazard Thoughts........................................387
Chapter One
The Lord of the Marshes
For quite a while, I've been looking at my dog 'Puxi.' He's lying motionless, like a statue, staring at the tainted waters of the marsh. A few steps away from Puxi, two sleepy eyes convey the only visible signs of the presence of a crocodile. The two animals stare silently at each other fraught with suspicion and waiting for the other to make the wrong move.
"Come on, get out of your stinking waters," Puxi seems to say. "And, if you even try, I'll call my master who will let you taste his spear."
"Why are you keeping away from the bank?" the crocodile seems to reply. "Come even one lash closer to my kingdom and you'll satisfy my hunger for several days."
Actually, this imaginary dialogue between 'Puxi' and the watery beast is not absurd. Puxi, you see—my faithful guard since I reluctantly accepted him from a true family friend two years ago—protects me with his silence.
And, silence is crucial to my life in the marshes. Although I'm confined to the marshes, the marshes have offered me a measure of shelter and protection since the terrible destruction of Tikal—my sweet homeland. And, because the Great Emperor of the North has promised an entire province to anyone who will bring me to him dead or alive, strangers continually pass near and far inquiring about the missing prince.
For years, this hiding place had provided an ideal shelter for me and I had refrained from having a dog because the barking of a dog would draw prying eyes' into this dark, wet expanse. Mysteriously enough, when I first brought Puxi here—from the very moment I had decided to leave the village—Puxi made his first crossing of the marsh without barking.
Since then, he's always behaved the same way. It's only when we leave the marsh that Puxi behaves like all the other dogs. This astonishing behavior of Puxi so intrigued me that, after much thought, the only conclusion I could draw was that this animal was a gift from the Sun God who doesn't want me to be publicly executed in the Aztecan capital.
Although Puxi is an incredible animal, and we have an incredible friendship, incredible friendships between man and beast is not so rare in the history of my country. In fact, some famous examples are recorded on the stones of the Great Temple of the Inscriptions. Someday, when Tikal is freed from the overwhelming forest that has swallowed the city of my birth, these recorded facts will tell the new lords of this land even more about this land's dogs and their incredible friendships.
The Maya were the first to have tamed dogs—long before the Aztec and long before the multitude of people wandering aimlessly through the forest. One day, by pure chance, one of our officers found a bitch and its nine puppies in the forest. The moaning of the puppies drew him between two large rocks where he examined the litter while the nearby mother growled protectively, probably fearing the loss of her young.
The officer had them put into a basket and carried to the camp—the mother following at a safe distance. There, after the officer ordered them fed, the starving mother overcame her fear and took advantage of the same food as her puppies.
Strangely enough, while other animals caught as babies always returned to their native forest after they grew up, these didn't. The ten dogs became the faithful friends of the man who saved them from death and they grew in number as increasing numbers of upper-class families wanted to have a dog. No other beast has ever shown more faithfulness, devotion, intelligence and usefulness than the dog.
Now mine is there near the water's edge, staring at his great enemy, prepared to rush to the narrow walkway—safe from the crocodile—and then, with his strange guttural sounds, warn me about the danger and ensure me the exclusivity of the prey.
Crocodiles, however, even though they're treacherous and cruel, are very useful to me because they serve as guards of my little dominion; nobody would ever venture into this watery world where certain death lurks behind every reed.
Longago, the marshes served as my ancestors' fresh meat supply. They fed crocodiles the corpses of traitors and criminals that had been taken to the main square of Tikal and sacrificed to various gods. (The bodies of the good people who died, and the bodies of the virgins sacrificed to the gods, instead of being fed to the crocodiles were burned on a great pyre which in turn delivered their souls to the gods.)
Now that Tikal doesn't exist anymore, and there's very little left for crocodiles to feed on, the great beasts have started devouring each other and their number has steadily declined.
As I sit observing these two beasts, my mind marvels at the fact that each has not only served its individual role in the world, but has also played an integral part in my ironic and sad life.
"Yes, I am Teoxihualpan, son of Uaxactun the last Mayan monarch. And, although my name Teoxihualpan—"the most intelligent"—came from my mother (and caused me to be mocked by everyone), now I'm simply Teoxi and, for my close friends," Teoshi."
For fifty years, my father, who was worshipped as a semi-god, ruled an empire that extended from the sea that borders us on the east to the one that borders us on the west. But, now, I rule over nothing—residing in frighteningly slimy waters and in living in conditions worse than a beast.
This hiding-out has been useful because, beyond protecting me, it allowed me to carry out so many achievements as the leader of a band of heroes, and, in addition, to collect and record not only the remarkable highlights of my life but also the glory for Mayan civilization.
I'll therefore keep on picking and pressing the vegetable fibers these pages are made of, as long as the Sun God gives me strength.
I am the only one who can challenge the destructive power of time and I hope that better men, perhaps my descendants, will someday assume the heritage of the past and lift my great nation from its ruins.
Everyone that I know believes I'm a dreamer who is approaching the end of the last journey. They are too much involved in their daily routines and they're not at all interested in the future that is—each day—borne anew in my mind. Even now, when light is fading and my sight is dimmed, there exists in my thoughts a dazzling sunrise.
But of what good? Nobody listens to me! The only choice I have is to commend these pages to God's benevolence, hoping he will yield to my pleas and save them from destruction.
I expect that raiders from the east would—if they came into possession of these pages—destroy them too. If so, what could be the use of all this work? What interest could the new rulers of this country have in knowing about their unlucky predecessors?
Therefore, for all those who came before me, I continue my quest. And, until the sun rises in the east, but not for me, I will not give up.
Chapter Two
Life Without Peace
It was a dog exactly like Puxi that saved my life many years ago. Soon after the destruction of Tikal, Copaxin and I took the treasure from the pyramids, buried it in various places outside the ancient city and then traveled to the east coast village which, for the first time, saw me as a leader.
This village too had been destroyed by heavy rain and floods but many of its inhabitants survived and were already rebuilding their houses. They had heard rumors about the destruction of the capital but not the extent to which misfortune had struck it.
I was accepted with respect as if I was still the son of the living king. I told them about the real condition of Tikal and that thousands had died in as many ways. The fact that I was bound by friendship with Copaxin, a member of the lower class, identified me as one of them even more.
As each day went by, we understood more and more how complete was the destruction of the country. Throughout the following months, people from other Mayan villages passed through or came to visit us. Although nobody spoke about the political reorganization of the empire, I did everything possible to promote relocation of many village dwellers, and most of the transient population, to the capital.
However, although I made a strong case for repopulating the capital, nobody wanted to leave his own village for fear that they might be abandoning a secure livelihood for some trade they might not like. Moreover, they feared the possibility that they might be exchanging their present freedom for a tyrannical political system which might deprive them of every possession they had and then reward them only with new and unexpected sufferings.
The only thing I could do was accept that situation. Therefore, whenever we had to discuss matters important to all of us, I arranged informal meetings with the various householders and we decided by majority what action to take. Obviously, never again could I wear the quetzal feather—the symbol of the royal status of which I would always be so proud. Lamat and Maukin however, as my most faithful guards (who at my request were promoted by my father), proudly wore the colorful symbol of their ancient rank and remained my faithful friends until their death.
Also, the young men who had joined us as a small army in the mission to rescue the virgins from the slave traders kept close to me and attended me during my adventurous existence.
Through their behavior, I realized that the desire to belong to a group and to obey the leader was more than mere acceptance of the superiority of another social class, but a way of binding each other in a time of fear, in order to achieve something great during hard times.
I used to observe them and marvel at the great care with which they carried out my orders at a time when I had no power and was only the shadow of the past. Nevertheless, the sense of obedience and respect they showed for me would allow me to save the entire community from very serious dangers ...
One full moon night, just before the dry season began, the village dog, that in the past I fed kitchen leftovers, came silently to lick my arm and wake me up. Almost instinctively, I got up and saw three Aztecan warriors—I recognized them from their colors—coming toward my hut.
I seized Copaxin by the arm and put my hand on her mouth to keep her silent. Then with a very firm grasp, I drew her towards the side exit. It was right then that the dog started to bark, awakened the entire village, and then rushed headlong against the three Aztec. Its heroism didn't save its life—the three men quickly finished it off—but those few instants allowed us to reach the marshes where I had previously hidden a small boat. Fortunately, because of the rain season, the level of water in the marshes was high and we could slip away from the bank under cover of the trees and mangroves.
At that distance, I could observe it was a coordinated Aztecan attack and I was sure they were looking for me. They set the whole village on fire, wasted many human lives—mostly women and children—and managed to kill some of my loyal men. Fortunately, after bravely leading the village counter attack and killing several Aztec, Lamat and Maukin survived.
The following day, I found out that the death toll of the incursion was heavy. I was told that there were also some Mayan refugees among the attacking Aztec, but I wasn't surprised since the Maya living in the Aztecan Empire had to obey their masters and behave like Aztec under threat and blackmail.
That first attempt to capture me would have been the best opportunity for the Aztec because I was not yet on guard. In fact, because the Aztec knew the village was small and unguarded, they relied on just a few dozen warriors led by some vassals, perhaps some spies, who were promised a reward. I imagined their disappointment at mounting a surprise attack, at night, on an unguarded village and not only failing to capture me but also losing many of their own warriors.
This added to my reputation of being—like all of my ancestors—under the protection of the Sun God.
Very few people from the village realized I was the target of the raid. Most villagers mistook them for simple raiders, but I was sure that I was the real target of that slaughter.
Two days later we held a formal meeting to plan how to avenge the assault. Obviously, I felt responsible for what had happened but Lamat, who had always been the most eloquent, spoke up and cleverly diverted the people's attention away from me.
"Men of the great Mayan empire! Brothers bearing misfortune! Friends experiencing a cruel Fate that wants to deprive us of everything including life! Because we are Maya, there will never be peace for us."
"Those Maya who have bent to the Aztec's will are crazy. They delude themselves to save their life and, in doing so, repudiate their past. Fools! The Aztec will never trust them. And, sooner or later, when they are no longer useful, the Aztec will get rid of them like insects. Our destiny is that of being Maya and nobody will ever deprive us of our identity. This is as it was meant to be and only mad men could hide our identity."
"While other Maya either surrendered to the Aztec or wander frightened in the forest, we have something they don't have: a fierce spirit and the freedom to put that spirit to test. If we are doomed to die, then our enemies will have to pay dearly for their efforts. We have to give them a lesson they will never forget. It's the only way to impress on them the understanding that even now, when they enter the boundaries of the former-Mayan empire, they step into a land full of surprises. Our land is different from theirs: they aren't used to the hot wet rain forest, to the animals that prowl unseen and to dangers that only we know."
"This is our world—cruel and pitiless, yes, but so wonderful! Much better than their deserts! We have live volcanic stones and they have dead, plain and lifeless stones. We walk on this land as masters and they walk as outsiders. We are confident and they are fearful."
"These advantages of ours, if used cleverly, will not only make us dangerous to them but will also cause them so much damage they'll never think of settling this blessed territory."
"The bones of our ancestors, just as the monuments they left us, still speak of our greatness and the superiority of our people."
In the opinion of the poor village's inhabitants (who were at this point already greatly oppressed by fear), Lamat had already spoken too much.
Some of them were listening with eyes full of tears for the loss of their loved ones. Others sat with open resignation. All wondered what tomorrow held.
Someone broke the silence with a disturbing question, "What you're saying is good and right, but how can you believe that a small group of fishermen and farmers—all burdened by their family's needs, paralyzing grief and the terrible events which just struck them—can take any action that would frighten the powerful Lord of the North?"
It was a sensible question but frankly unexpected from some of those people. While my guard was speaking, my mind was instead enlightened by hundreds of ideas because I knew that sooner or later it would be my turn to speak and I would have to say something sensible that matched the ideas enunciated by him.
"I would also like to say these words. I congratulate the speaker for his heartfelt response to Lamat's noble words. We need realists like him because the greatness of the past does not solve the problems of the future. And to be sure, if a reprisal is made, I assure you that it should be an action that poses very little risk and offers a very high probability of victory."
A chorus of approval swept through those present, especially among the eldest who at this time in their lives were far from thinking about glorious actions, considering that they had never been touched by such ambition even when they were young.
In those moments, I recalled the border city. That was the first time I had crossed the borders of my country and, even then, I was too inexperienced and totally unaware of the dangers of war. For the first time, I became aware of a completely different world—a world that was populated by different peoples, ruled by the Aztec, and distinguished by a people who, although they were sleeping politically, were totally committed to their trades. I discovered a society which had nothing to share among its members unless sharing contributed to one's material interests.
In my mind I repeated that experience. I remembered that inept leader who was trying very hard to maintain his position as wielder of power and acceptor of tributes but was doing nothing to protect his people's honor and dignity.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Teoxi, Mayan Prince II. Montezuma's Rageby Antonio Grimaldi Copyright © 2012 by Antonio Grimaldi. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
