Heart of the World

Chapter XX 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 cheater 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 then 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 from 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 I will see her dead and him with her!"

Then one of the eldest 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.