Dirk van den Boom - The Emperor's Men 8 - Stormy Heavens

His path led him to the palace, where, in the absence of the King, a council of nobles was in charge of the normal public affairs. Aritomo was familiar with these personalities in different ways, but knew that the informal presidency was occupied by the high priest Itzunami, who had been the first to receive English lessons and whose skills in that language had grown to a remarkable level since then. Aritomo, too, had not neglected his language lessons and was busy studying Maya. He didn’t know if he was actually progressing as well as his teacher – an old, weathered writer who had been sent to him personally for this purpose – always claimed. But he found himself in the situation of being able to understand more and more of everyday conversations, and had already started reading simple texts that his teacher repeatedly presented to him with patient persistence. So he actually learned something, and this knowledge brought him satisfaction.

Aritomo attended the council as a silent observer. He was asked his views often enough, but he was wise in holding himself back. He deliberately did not want to act like Inugami and left the daily business to those who in all likelihood knew a lot better about it. Today, however, the preparatory work was on the plan, with which the submarine could possibly be taken from the pyramid. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the ruined temple, the never completed tomb of Chitam’s father, would not withstand the constant pressure of the metal body for too long. At some point the building would sag, and there was a risk that it could cause major damage. This had to be prevented. It was not yet clear where the boat would ultimately go – maybe first into the large lake south of Mutal, at least this was the most likely solution –, but it had to get down from the temple, and as soon as possible. The other alternative was to build a new, more stable support structure under the boat, making it the city’s landmark forever, an option that Lengsley and Sarukazaki now secretly preferred.

The Maya did not shy away from this challenge. They were grandiose builders who thought on a large scale. They may have underestimated the weight of the boat, but they did not consider the operation to be impossible. The plans that Lengsley, Sarukazaki and their Mayan colleagues had drawn up were reminiscent of the construction of the Egyptian pyramids, with a trundle bed made of tree trunks, with many ropes and flanges, a lot of collective muscular strength from hundreds of workers, and a gentle lowering of the boat along the slope of the ruin until it came to rest on the large square in front of the building. Not a very ambitious plan, but one for which all kinds of preparations had to be made. In the end, it wasn’t even Aritomo who had to make the decision – as long as Mutal’s men were mostly deployed outside the city as warriors, there was a shortage of workers anyway. Those who were still here had to take care of the endless cycle of sowing and harvesting, because this time the losses due to the absence of the soldiers would not be offset by rich tribute of conquered cities. Inugami wanted to rule, and he knew very well that it did not help his legitimacy to deprive the subjects of what was necessary, especially to expose them to hunger. Therefore they couldn’t expect corn deliveries to Mutal, and accordingly the city had to continue to take care of itself.

Aritomo could easily enter the palace. Nobody dared to stop one of the messengers of the gods.

When he stepped into the throne room, which despite its pompous name seemed rather narrow and sometimes oppressive to the Japanese, some of the council members were already waiting. Aritomo immediately noticed that something was wrong – there was excitement, some faces were openly horrified, and others were angry, wildly determined to do something without being able to steer this determination in any way. When the congregation recognized Aritomo, High Priest Itzunami pulled away from the group and hurried toward him, his face covered in sweat, although it was comfortably cool here, protected by the thick sandstone walls.

“Master … have you heard the message?” he asked a little breathlessly.

“Which message? What happened?”

“The Queen! The lady Tzutz! The princesses – they’re all dead!”

The Japanese paused and took a moment to digest the words and make sure that he hadn’t misunderstood. Itzunami repeated, no less excited, and then Aritomo was sure to understand correctly.

He stared at Itzunami, unable to utter a word. He looked for a lie on the priest’s face, but there was nothing to be seen. Dead. And Chitam was already on the way back after defeating Saclemacal, could arrive here every day, and what only …

Dead.

“How did this happen?” he managed to say. Itzunami wrestled with his hands, an expression of pure despair.

“Murder! An assassination, a robbery! All were slaughtered. Travelers have discovered the bodies on the road, and there are other traces that they were carried into the jungle. Blood there, too. It must have been days ago, because the corpses have already been digested by animals. Some are unrecognizable.”

The scope of this news rested on Aritomo like a heavy weight, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Are you sure they’re all dead? Nobody escaped?”

“We don’t know exactly how many people the Queen had with her. But her body is clearly recognized. We fear the worst for the children, but their bodies have not been found. Perhaps there is still hope and they have only been abducted. Mutal’s enemies, that’s for sure. But …”

Aritomo nodded. Itzunami didn’t have to say anything else. The Maya were willing to wage war against each other at all times and took advantage of these occasions when the time was right for them. But the kidnapping of children, the arbitrary killing of women without directly gaining political capital – and without prior provocation? This was rather uncommon, and in Mutal’s case, it was the first event of its kind. Aritomo had used the city’s historical records to improve his writing skills, and also his teacher had a soft spot for history and was happy to talk about the subject extensively.

That didn’t sound like the Maya.

But if that was the case, there was only one terrible alternative.

Aritomo had to sit down. But he couldn’t show any weakness. He was a messenger of the gods. They never got dizzy.

“The King must be informed immediately,” Itzunami said. “We’re sending messengers to Saclemacal!”

“The King is already on his way back here,” Aritomo answered weakly. “But yes, send the messengers, he must know as soon as possible. Are there any clues as to who is responsible for this act?”

Itzunami nodded grimly. “Yes, my lord. We found remains of clothing on site, two dead warriors who were not part of the Queen’s entourage. They wore traditional costumes and symbols from those of Yaxchilan. The dead king of that city still reaches for his enemies from the underworld. There must still be scattered subjects of this unworthy man on the way, hidden in the forest, probably the exact same people who set fire to the palace. All of this fits together too well to be untrue. But we won’t rest until the culprits are found. The King himself will not rest, not a minute. We’re going to search the jungle, we’re going to hunt them down, and we’re going to wage war on anyone who gives them shelter.” Itzunami looked at Aritomo inquiringly. “May I hope for the help of the messengers? Are you at Mutal’s side during this difficult hour?”

The first officer made an approving gesture. How could he have refused this request? He could only dispel or confirm his own, much more terrible, suspicions if he found out the truth.

“We want to do what we can do. But don’t expect miracles, priest. I am as horrified by this development as everyone else, and I am just as perplexed and desperate. The Lady Tzutz was an honorable and smart woman. Your loss weighs heavily. The King will descend into a very dark mood. Itzunami, you have to stand by his side and make sure that he doesn’t make any hasty decisions. He can be very impulsive. The warriors are out of town. He has to be careful.”