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Larra’s
Mayan Adventure
Within a few seconds, Amy found herself completely
surrounded by the Mayan warriors.
She now saw that there were more than fifty of them, too many she
knew, for her to handle alone.
It was possible of course, that they knew
nothing of firearms. Not one
of the warriors had made any attempted to relieve her of her
sidearm. If she took it out and
fired it, they might be frightened off.
“Or,” she thought, “they might
be frightened into killing me.”
It was best not to aggravate her
escort. After all, they had seemed
quite in awe of her when they first met.
Perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
Amy’s “escort” was now moving
steadily down the canyon. The
warriors were all around her now, and although none of them threatened her,
it was clear that they intended that she should follow
them. Amy was reluctant to do
this. She should be searching
for Katie and Larra, but she was intimidated by the sheer number of the Mayan
warriors, and so she allowed herself to be herded away from the scene of
the rockfall.
A half-hour of rather slow walking brought
Amy and her escorts to a sharp curve in the canyon
wall. Here there was fairly dense
rainforest vegetation. To Amy’s
surprise, the warriors escorted her right into the thickest part of the
foliage. Pushing aside the thick
tangle of vegetation the warriors revealed a narrow path that seemed to lead
to the base of the canyon wall.
Several warriors went ahead of her along the path and the rest followed
as Amy marched into the dark shadows of the
rainforest. “Where does
this lead?” she wondered.
A few yards farther along the path she got
her answer. What she had first
perceived as simply the darkness of the canyon wall revealed itself to be
a cave. The Mayans appeared to
be taking her into some sort of secret
passage. Several of the warriors
stopped outside the cave for a few
minutes. Taking fire-making materials
from pouches that were strung over their shoulders they soon had a small
fire burning. Amy looked on with
interest. She had sometimes seen
South African blacks starting fire in the same
way. With in a minute or so the
fire was large enough to ignite torches that the warriors had twisted from
dry grass that they had gathered near the cave
entrance. Now they were ready
to proceed.
It was pitch black in the cave, but the crude
torches provided enough light for them to make their
way. Amy guessed from the speed
at which the torches were burning that they would not be in this darkness
very long. She was proved
right. After only about five
minutes of walking, she saw light up
ahead. They were coming to the
end of the tunnel.
Coming from the darkness of the cave into
the bright light of day once again, temporarily blinded Amy, but when her
sight adjusted, she was astounded by what she
saw. The cave exited on a slight
rise of ground, and spread before her was what appeared to be an entire Mayan
city.
Amy rubbed her
eyes. This did not appear
possible. An
entire Mayan city hidden from the world for hundreds of
years? Was such a thing
possible in the twentieth century?
Had no one ever flown over it in an airplane and noted its
presence? She simply stared
astounded. The party of warriors,
however, was moving on. She found
that they were now walking on one of the limestone causeways or roads that
the Mayans were known for. It
formed a perfectly smooth surface of crushed stone, as straight and well
made as any modern roadway.
The city spread before
her. It consisted of a large
central temple flanked by numerous other buildings that appeared to be palaces
or perhaps other religious structures.
The buildings seemed to be constructed of gleaming white stone, or
were covered by white stucco that reflected the light
brilliantly. The buildings diminished
in height toward the periphery of the central
core. Outside the city proper
were hundreds of thatched huts that provided shelter for the bulk of the
population, and outside that were gardens panted with a variety of crops,
with corn being the dominant species.
Everywhere there appeared to be Mayans going about their business,
just as they had done in pre-Columbian times.
“Amazing,” thought Amy I must be
in some sort of a dream,” and she pinched herself to make sure that
what she saw was really happening.
Amy and her escort were now entering the main
part of the city. As they marched
past a crowded market, hundreds of people rushed to see what was
happening. Her escort of warriors
formed a double row with Amy in the center to prevent her from being
swarmed.
The procession was moving toward the main
temple. Just short of the imposing
structure the party turned into the courtyard of a magnificent
building. Amy guessed that it
must be some sort of palace, as it seemed to be divided into dozens of rooms,
each with its own separate doorway.
The walls of the building were covered in white stucco with the hundreds
of raised images painted in bright
colors. The city was truly
majestic.
An impressively dressed
man advance from the steps of the building toward
them.
Reaching Amy he bowed low before her and said something that Amy could
not understand. She did not attempt
to respond, realizing that such an attempt would likely be
futile. The dignitary, if that
was what he was, made some sort of
speech. Amy guessed from his
submissive attitude that it was some sort of welcome, and she inclined her
head as if she understood. At
length the man finished his soliloquy and gestured with his
hand. From a large doorway behind
issued about a half dozen young Mayan women, dressed simply in white ankle-length
dresses. Bowing before Amy they
took hold of her arms and guided her toward the interior of the
building.
Inside the building Amy found it to be pleasantly
cool compared to the tropical heat
outside. She guessed that the
walls of the room were about three feet thick, which probably helped to reduce
the interior temperature. Inside,
the room was dimly lit, the only light coming through the
doorway. It appeared to be a
form of residence, as the room contained simple items of furniture, and a
number of mats that could be used as places to sit.
Amy allowed herself to be guided to the center
of the room. There, one
of the young woman indicated through gestures that
she was to sit on a large reed mat.
For a few seconds, Amy hesitated.
She was in a very precarious
situation. What were the motives
of these people? They seemed
friendly enough, even overly respectful, but she could not be sure of what
they thought of her. She decided
that it would not be polite to refuse, and so she sat as
directed. Immediately, the young
women swarmed about her. Amy
realized with alarm that several of them were pulling at her clothes, attempting
to undress her. Jumping to her
feet, Amy placed her hand on the butt of her sidearm.
Her sudden movement seemed to frighten the
young women and they backed away from
her. Several of them actually
ran from the room, shouting loudly.
“What now?” Amy wondered.
For a few minutes she stood in the center
of the room, uncertain as to what to do, and then several of the women who
had fled the room returned. With
them was a much older woman, Amy guessed that she was probably in her fifties,
but she had a commanding air about her that came with the experience of
decades. This woman advanced
upon Amy, and although she stood a good head sorter that the beautiful redhead,
she did not in any way appear submissive or frightened, as had the young
girls.
Gently the older woman placed her arm on
Amy’s shoulder and indicated through pressure that Amy should sit once
again. Not knowing what else
to do, Amy complied, but she kept her hand on her
gun. The matron sat down across
from her, but this time there was no attempt to remove Amy’s
clothing. Instead the woman spoke
to one of the girls and she scampered from the
room. A few minutes later the
girl returned. With her were
two more young women and they were carrying a variety of fruits and
beverages.
Amy suddenly recalled that she had not had
any food or water for several hours.
She was both parched and famished.
When the food was placed before her, she ate and drank
avidly. Many of the dishes before
her she recognized. There were
a number of corn-based foods, such as tortillas, and several varieties of
fruit. The beverage mystified
her until she took a drink. She
realized that it was chocolate, sweetened with honey or something similar,
and spiced with vanilla. The
concoction gave her tongue a bit of a buzz as she drank
it. Although unaccustomed to
the bitter taste, she found it to be quite stimulating and drank more when
it was offered. Amy found herself
becoming quite relaxed. She was
not quite sure if it was part of the effect of the food and drink, after
having not eaten for so long or whether it was the mildly stimulating effect
of the chocolate, but she no longer felt apprehensive about her
situation. The young women returned,
and this time when they began to tug on her clothing she did not
resist.
With the help of the matron, Amy was soon
undressed. The buttons on her
shirt and pants proved a bit confusing for the Mayan women, but they soon
figured out how they worked. Even
in her euphoric state, however, Amy retained some presence of mind, and refused
to allow her gun to be taken from her.
Everything else was taken away however, and she realized with mild
surprise that she was now quite naked.
As she was undressed, her attendants produced bowls of scented water
and began to remove the sweat and grime from her
body. In the intense heat and
humidity of late afternoon, Amy found the cool scented water that was used
to bathe her to be pleasantly refreshing.
Her braids were unraveled and her thick, heavy red tresses were washed
and then untangled using a comb made from a
seashell. Her hair was then rebraided
in the Mayan style, a single long braid that hung down her
back.
As her grooming continued Amy became more
and more relaxed. Her exhausting
experiences of the day were catching up with
her. Gradually she dozed off
as the women continued to bathe her.
When she awoke, it took some time for Amy
to orient herself. It was almost
pitch black in the room and the only light came through the doorway from
a tropical half moon. She was
lying naked on jaguar skin cushions that were stuffed with native cotton
and, and she was covered with a light
sheet. She realized with a start
that her precious sidearm was gone.
“Damn,” she thought, “I’ve been a
fool. I’m at the mercy of
these people.”
She stirred from her resting-place and discovered
that she was not alone. All of
the young handmaidens who had swarmed over her were sleeping in the room
as well. Immediately most of
them were awake. One of them
moved over to her carrying some sort of large
bowl. At first Amy did not realize
what was being offered to her, as the bowl was quite empty, but then she
understood. There had to be some
way of dealing with calls of nature.
Amy had noticed as she entered the city that large ditches full of
running water had been dug close to most
buildings. They probably served
as part of the sewage system. In
other parts of the city she had observed large elevated channels constructed
of stone running from the mountains into the
city. These were aqueducts, carrying
water into the city. There was,
however, no means of getting the water into the city’s buildings except
by carrying it and Amy had seen numerous jars of water being moved to and
fro by both women and men.
Amy almost blushed as she was presented with
the bowl, but she recognized that the Mayans probably thought that eliminating
waste in front of others was quite
natural. Since she had not attended
to calls of nature since she had been brought into the city she took advantage
of the situation. Immediately,
one of the woman padded outside with the now full
container, while another stepped forward with a cloth and a bowl of water
to wipe Amy off. This time Amy
did blush, although in the darkened room no one could see her
embarrassment. She then allowed
herself to be tucked back in on her bed.
Closing her eyes, she slept until dawn.
Morning found the Mayan community already
awake. When Amy stirred she was
instantly the center of attention once
again. She was dressed in a simple
but elegant Mayan dress, consisting of a single piece of white cotton cloth
that extended from her shoulders to her
feet. There was an opening for
her head in the center of the cloth, leaving the sides of the garment open.
These were tied together with
simple cotton strips. It was
a light, but very serviceable garment.
Food was brought and she was presented with
another bowl of the chocolate beverage she had drunk the night
before. This time Amy found it
to be quite stimulating. She
realized that she could quite get to like this exotic beverage.
While she ate, her Mayan servants fussed about
her. Sandals were placed on her feet.
Then armlets were pushed up her arms until they reached her biceps.
Next, bracelets were clasped onto each wrist and a necklace studded with
turquoise was hung around her shapely
neck. Finally, a sort of diadem
was set on her head, encircling her brow.
With a little thrill Amy discerned that all of the ornaments seemed
to be made of pure gold. “I
am being dressed like a princess,” she
thought. “I wonder what
these people think I
am?”
Within a few minutes of being dressed and
eating her breakfast, armed warriors appeared at the doorway of her
room. Her young servants moved
out of their way as they entered.
It was apparent from their demeanor that she was expected to follow
them.
Amy rose and stepped out into the bright morning
sun, her escort closing around her.
Outside a litter awaited.
Apparently she was not allowed to walk, she must be
carried. She boarded the litter,
which was then lifted by eight men and
the
entourage marched slowly through the
city. They were heading for what
appeared to be an even more magnificent palace than the one she had been
housed in. It was constructed
in the shape of a hollow square, without a single door or window on the
outside. A high doorway opened
into an inner courtyard. As the
party entered Amy was almost overwhelmed by the splendor of its
interior. Everywhere she looked,
the walls were brightly decorated with splendidly painted
bas-reliefs. The walls were hung
with marvelous tapestries painted with all sorts of scenes depicting Mayan
life. All around her servants
hustled and bustled attending to a variety of
duties. In the center of the
courtyard on a raised stone platform was an imposing throne carved of one
of the exotic rainforest woods. And
seated on that throne was a truly impressive figure.
Amy judged that he was about forty years of
age. It was difficult to tell
for certain, as his bronzed skin, including his face was ornamented with
numerous tattoos. He was much
taller than any Mayan she had seen, standing well over six
feet. Putty had been added to
the space between the bridge of his nose and his forehead to give his nose
a sharp curve. On his arms and
ankles were fastened numerous gold ornaments and a massive gold breastplate
was hung from his neck. His head
was encircled with a band of gold, and plumes of green quetzal feathers rose
majestically from a leather strip beneath the gold
headband. In his right hand he
held a massive wooden staff, studded with razor sharp pieces of black
obsidian.
As Amy was led toward this imposing and menacing
figure her armed escort fell to their knees and prostrated
themselves before
him. The men carrying her lowered
her litter to the ground and similarly prostrated
themselves. Amy was left sitting
alone pieced by the fierce eyes of the demigod before
her. Amy noticed with some
astonishment, that his eyes were not brown like those of the Mayans she had
seen, but bright blue. In the
meantime, she wondered if she should follow the example of her escort and
prostrate herself before the Mayan king.
Unable to decide, she finally compromised by rising and making what
she thought might pass as a curtsey.
The Mayan king stood and raised his arm, gesturing
toward her. Then he spoke, all
the time keeping his eyes fixed on her.
The courtyard descended into complete silence as his voice rose and
fell. It was obvious that whatever
he was saying was directed toward her, but she could not understand a single
syllable. The monologue continued
for several minutes and then the Mayan king sat
down. All eyes were on Amy, it
was obvious that she was expected to
respond.
Amy did not know what to
do. All of this attention focussed
on a simple South African farm girl left her feeling quite
inadequate. She remained silent
for a few seconds and then stammered: “I…I’m sorry, but I
do not understand.” Oh,
If only she had Larra’s gift for languages, she might have picked up
some of the Mayan dialect.
To her absolute astonishment, the Mayan king
replied to her in English.
“Would you prefer that I speak English, my
dear?”
Amy almost collapsed with
surprise. The blue
eyes! They should have given
her a clue. This man was not
Mayan, he was simply dressed and made up to look like
one. She now saw that where
his skin was not tattooed or covered with body paint it was lighter in complexion
than that of the Mayans.
Dumbfounded, she did not
reply. “I see that you are
not gifted in the art of conversation,” the Mayan king
continued. “That is a shame,
because you are exquisitely beautiful.”
Amy found herself
blushing. She suddenly felt very
vulnerable. After some hesitation
she managed a reply. “I
d… d… don’t know what to say,” she
stuttered. “I understood
nothing of what you said.”
“I merely gave that speech for the benefit
of my subjects. You were not
intended to comprehend it,” the king
replied. “But now we may
speak freely in the language of the
gods.”
Amy noticed that the king spoke with a very
slight accent. She could not
exactly determine its origin, but it sounded
Spanish. “Who are you?”
she queried, and what is the language of the gods, and what do you want of
me?”
“One question
at a time my beauty,” the king replied without
smiling. I am the god of the
Mayan city of
“A
goddess?”
Amy gasped, “What do you mean?”
“I mean that only gods can talk to
gods,” he replied. “I
am a god and I am speaking to you.
You understand me, so that makes you a
goddess. Simple isn’t
it? Please understand that it
is in your interest to continue this
deception. If you and I were
not gods we might very well be killed.
But, I think we have talked long enough in
public. Let us retire to a more
private location.”
The Mayan king waved his arm and uttered a
sharp command. Amy’s escort
closed around her and guided her in the direction that the Mayan king was
now walking. In a few moments
she found herself in an inner room of the
palace. This room however, was
a courtyard within a courtyard, as the roof was open to the
sky. Instead of being in a dark
inner room, they were in a brightly-lit area.
Scattered about the courtyard were a number
of cushions and low wooden chairs.
The Mayan king seated himself in one of these and motioned for Amy
to do the same. Servants moved
forward with beakers of vanilla flavored chocolate that had been whipped
into a froth.
After they were seated the Mayan king waved his arm and he and Amy
were left alone.
Leaning
forward, the Mayan king spoke softly.
Amy listened without interruption.
“My name is Juan Gonzales.
Fifteen years ago, while on an archeological expedition I stumbled
on this hidden valley. I entered
it by the route that you found.
Because of financial expedients, I had only two Indian villagers
accompanying me. Neither one
of them would enter the tunnel entrance to this valley, so I was forced to
go on alone. I have no idea what
became of the villagers, I expect that they went home when I did not return,
and afraid of punishment did not tell anyone of my
disappearance. In any case, no
one has ever come to look for me.”
The Gonzales paused and took a drink of
chocolate. “Delicious stuff,
once you get used to it,” he said.
Then he continued his tale.
“I was a young man with no connections to keep me at
home. Both my parents were dead
and my brothers and sisters were happily married and pursuing their own lives,
so I had no reason to return. The
people of this valley were easy to
impress. I was forced to kill
the first few I met, as they came at me with
spears. Luckily they stopped
before my revolver ran out of bullets.
They had never seen a gun before and thought that I was hurling bolts
of lightning at them. That more
or less set me up in the god business.
I am
Tlaloc, god of war
and sacrifice, and as such rule
undisputed. It is essential to
my power over these people that they continue to believe that I possess godlike
powers. I find a number of simple
parlor tricks are enough to convince them of my
status. I am living in an
archeologist’s dream. I
am priest-king of a living Mayan city, able to study them as they really
were. What
more could I desire?”
Here Gonzales paused and Amy was able to
interject. “So, I expect
that my arrival has upset your regime, has it not?”
“Not at all,” he replied smiling
for the first time. “You
have confirmed my power. With
your great beauty and bright red hair, you were immediately taken to be a
goddess. The fact that only I
can communicate with you reinforces my godlike
status.”
“What is to be my place in all of
this?”
queried
Amy. “Am I to be returned
to the outside world?”
Gonzales looked directly at
her. “No, that is unfortunately
not possible. The people believe
that you were sent here for a reason, and you must fulfill that
belief.”
Amy suddenly felt very
apprehensive. “And what
is that belief?” she inquired.
“They think that you are a gift from
the gods. While you slept they
determined that you are a virgin, and a virginal gift could only have two
meanings.”
Amy turned as red as her
hair. She was acutely embarrassed,
but she managed to stammer out a
question.
“W…W…What might that belief
b…be?”
Gonzales hesitated and then answered: “A
virgin sent by the gods would either be intended for sacrifice or for marriage
to their god-king. So you may
choose whichever one you prefer.”
Amy was both shocked and
frightened.
“Sacrifice?
Marriage?…I don’t
understand.”
“It is quite simple, Gonzales
replied,
“in two days time you either marry me or you meet
chac mool.”
Amy’s eyes
widened. She knew from her reading
that
chac
mool was the bloody Mayan idol upon which sacrifice victims were
held as their living hearts were cut out of their bodies. She did not enjoy
imagining herself at the center of such a
scene. But marriage was also
something she was unprepared for.
She looked at the priest-king.
He seemed impressive enough, but she knew that he was about twice
her age, and she did not like the idea that she would have no choice in the
matter.
“I cannot accept such a proposition,”
she stated. “I cannot accept
a forced marriage to a man I do not know or
love.”
“The choice is yours,” Gonzales
replied. “I cannot make
you marry me. The ceremony requires
your cooperation, but I am sincere about the
alternative.”
“This is the worst sort of blackmail!”
Amy exclaimed. “You threaten
me with death unless I become your concubine.”
“You would certainly not be my
concubine,” replied Gonzales.
“I already have a dozen of
those. You would be my wife,
my companion, someone that I can talk to.
These Mayan women are beautiful in their own way, but they cannot
provide me with intelligent conversation.
A god cannot have intelligent discourse with members of his
harem.”
Amy understood that Gonzales was trapped in
a world of his own making, but she had no desire to be a solution to his
problem. “I cannot
consent,” she said finally.
“I cannot accept marriage under such
conditions.”
“I see that you are overwhelmed,”
said Gonzales. “I will let
you think about it. But be assured,
I make no idle threats.”
He clapped his
hands. Immediately, servants
entered the room and escorted Amy to another part of the
palace. It was an area much like
the one where she had spoken with the
Gonzales. Apparently he wanted
to keep her close by.
That night she agonized over the decision
she was being forced to make. She
got very little sleep. Again
and again she ran the alternatives Gonzales had presented her with through
her mind. Should she consent
to marry him or refuse? She shuddered
at the alternative, imagining what it would be like to be held down over
chac
mool screaming in horror as an obsidian blade cut open her breast
and her still beating heart was torn from her
body. By morning she had reached
an agonized decision.
The next day Amy met with Gonzales again.
Faced with no alternative except a painful death, she consented to marriage.
Gonzales smiled triumphantly.
“You will not regret this my goddess.”
he said, “It is not every day that a woman has the opportunity to become
the consort of a god.”
Amy began to think that maybe Gonzales was
a little caught up in the world of his imagination, but there seemed no other
way out of her predicament. She
would go through with the ceremony and then try to reason him out of a full
commitment. She hoped that he
would not be difficult, for she had no intention of allowing him to consummate
the union.
The day of the marriage arrived and Amy was
awakened early. Servants swarmed
about her preparing her for the ceremony.
She was bathed and anointed with sweet smelling
herbs. Her thick red mane was
unbraided and combed out. It
was left loose and allowed to hang down to her
waist.
Her loins were clad in a white breechcloth
that hung down in front and back, but allowed her shapely legs to be fully
exposed. Amy was not pleased
with this garment, because it revealed too much of her anatomy, but she had
no choice in the selection of her
clothing.
She was absolutely astonished, however, at
the outfitting of her torso. What
she was required to wear made her exotic breechcloth look positively
modest. Instead of the expected
blouse or shirt, she was draped in a sort of metallic brassiere, forged from
silver links. It was held in
place by silver chains that formed a halter around her neck, and identical
metal chain straps that fastened in the
back. It afforded her almost
no coverage as all, her symmetrical breasts and pert pink nipples being clearly
visible through the chain links.
Amy felt almost naked in the
outfit. She knew enough about
Mayan dress to realize that what she was forced to wear was purely a product
of Gonzales’ imagination. She
felt like some sort of woman of the street rather than the prim and proper
farm girl she had been raised to be.
The rest of her costume consisted of gold
arm and ankle bracelets inlaid with turquoise and
gold. Each of the bracelets and
armlets was attached by silver chains to a leather belt that was placed around
her waist. Amy wondered at this,
but suppressed her misgivings. She
was already apprehensive enough about what the day might
bring.
Her wedding costume was finished with an elaborate
diadem that supported a dozen bright green plumes of the quetzal
bird. The whole arrangement was
so heavy due to the weight of gold and silver, that Amy felt as if she was
wearing a suit of armor.
The elaborate preparations had taken all morning
and part of the afternoon, but finally her trousseau was complete and Amy
was escorted to the courtyard by an honor guard of handmaidens. There she
boarded a litter and joined a military escort of elaborately costumed warriors
carrying obsidian-studded clubs.
The whole procession then left the interior courtyard of the palace
and moved off in a stately manner toward the great
temple.
The huge pyramid that was the great temple
completely dominated the center of the Mayan
city. It loomed over 200 feet
into the air and its ritual platform at the top of the structure was accessible
only by climbing over 300 steps.
Fortunately for Amy her litter-bearers did the climbing for
her. The steep incline of the
temple caused her litter to tilt alarmingly, but Amy was saved from falling
by the back of a chair that was her seat on the litter.
Slowly the procession made its way to the
top of the massive structure. The
city spread out around her as they climbed higher and higher, and Amy could
see how truly magnificent this hidden civilization
was.
The sweating litter bearers finally reached
the top of the temple and deposited the
litter. Gathered at the top were
over a dozen incredibly dressed Mayan priests and nobles, and sitting at
the center, on a raised dais was Gonzalez, arrayed in all his
finery. Before him, serving as
a warning to Amy was the bloodstained figure of a man lying on his back with
his stomach forming a bowl to catch the blood of sacrifice
victims. It was
chac mool, the Mayan
sacrificial altar.
With a wave of his arm Gonzales commanded
the ceremony to begin. There
was an incredible surge of sound as a Mayan band began to
play. Drums beat, and whistles
and flutes squealed in support. The
sound was almost deafening, but seemed to have little effect on the assembled
dignitaries, who launched into the
ceremony. The sweet smell of
several types of burning incense came to Amy’s nose as the priests began
their ritual chants.
Amy understood none of the
ceremony. She only knew that
the music, the chanting, and the incense produced an almost hypnotic effect
on her. Her mind whirled at what
she saw, especially as the ceremony began to reach a
climax. Various members of the
priesthood began to mutilate themselves, shoving sharp cactus thorns through
their cheeks and lips. Several
of them pushed sharp thorns attached to coarse thorn-lined ropes through
their tongues. Incredibly, three
or four priest took off their loincloths and drew thorn-studded ropes through
their penises.
The sight of so much blood and pain, deliberately
inflicted, almost made Amy sick, but she knew that it was simply part of
the Mayan custom to offer a blood sacrifice to the
gods. If a human sacrifice was
not to be made, then it was thought appropriate to offer one’s own blood
instead.
In a frenzy of noise, chanting and blood,
the ceremony reached its climax.
Suddenly the sound died away, and Amy was led forward to stand at
the side of Gonzales. He took
her hand in his and, as a priest chanted, handed her a frothy beaker of
chocolate. Taking one for himself,
he drank and Amy followed suit.
This drink seemed to be a special mixture, spiced with something stronger
than the ordinary. Amy found
her head swimming, and was overcome with a sense of wonder and
awe. She was now married to a
god!
The ceremony at an end, she and Gonzales both
boarded the same litter and were carried down the frightening 45 degree incline
of the great pyramid. Through
noisy, excited crowds they were escorted back to the main palace, where a
sense of sanity resumed.
Amy felt
overwhelmed. She had never expected
such an intense experience. She
had anticipated that the marriage ceremony would be elaborate, but the actual
extent of it left her completely drained.
She wanted nothing better than to be able to return to her bed and
sleep. Unfortunately, for her,
bed was what Gonzales wanted too, but sleep was not what he had in
mind.
Hand in hand, Amy and Gonzales walked into the inner part of the palace. This was a section that Amy had never seen before. It contained Gonzales’ private quarters, and was separated from the rest of the palace by a series of rooms. It insured that their wedding night would not be disturbed.
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