AH EK LEMBA IN CEMPOALA, 1409
Ah Ek Lemba’s army beat an inglorious retreat to Cempoala, the
aquiach hot in pursuit. The Cholōltecs were confident. Their Eagle had
won against the World-Conqueror, something widely regarded as impossible. The gods must be on their side, and the soldiers muttered, only half-joking, about how they were about to march all the way to Tiho, Ah Ek Lemba’s skull impaled on their banner.
Mahpilhuēyac, Ah Ek Lemba’s Middle Finger, heard the news of his master’s defeat and hurried south. In the rush of confidence that gripped the entire Cholōltec army following Huēcalpan, they had almost forgotten that Mahpilhuēyac’s army did, in fact, exist. Mahpilhuēyac caught the
aquiach by surprise in February 1409, crushed the Cholōltecs in the Battle of Ātocpan, and forced them back into the mountains. The
aquiach’s army quickly scattered. The rainy season was fast approaching, and with that the cessation of all campaigns—not even a god could make war across waterlogged paths and bog-ridden roads. There would be peace until September, when the rains ended. It was the gods’ way of giving the people a respite from blood.
Ātocpan was a much-needed lesson in humility, but it hardly dismayed the army of Cholōllān. They had
won. They could
win. The
aquiach and his city had proven themselves worthy of Quetzalcōhuātl, and the impostor who claimed he was Quetzalcōhuātl had not.
When the army returned to Cholōllān in March, the city was more festive than anyone could remember. Music was everywhere, both priestly psalms of jubilation and the cheery tunes of youth. Great merchants were hurling sacks of gold and cacao beans into the street for beggars to take; petals and perfumes and butterflies strewed the air; great sacrifices were held in honor of the troops, and for once, each victim willingly climbed up the pyramids, singing the songs of his homeland on his way to death before a transfixed audience. The
aquiach was greeted as the greatest hero in history since the god-king Topiltzin himself, and the
tēctlahcuilohqueh (scribes of
tēctlahcuilōlli) competed to see who could paint the most fitting image of the priest.
The
tlalchiach looked at the honors due the
aquiach and frowned, though he was careful that nobody would see.
Meanwhile, in the south, Mahpilxocoyōtl remained in Quizii with his army throughout the 1409 rainy season. The Tiho invasion had provoked a famine in the area, and the troops were supplied with grain shipped from Soconusco. No concern could be spared for the commoners, even as they starved away by the tens of thousands.
* * *
It was the war of arrows that was on hiatus in the rainy season, not the war of words. The
aquiach began to circulate propaganda letters targeted at Ah Ek Lemba’s soldiers around this time. The following examples, recently discovered sealed in a cave by archaeologists, are emblematic.
Although large portions of the first text are no longer legible, it seeks to establish 1) the sacral authority of Cholōllān, per the tale of Topiltzin Quetzalcōhuātl, the god-king of the city of Tōllān whose reincarnation Ah Ek Lemba
claimed to be; 2) the vast base of support for Cholōllān; and 3) incongruities between Ah Ek Lemba and the real Topiltzin Quetzalcōhuātl.
[Lacuna in the text]
When Topiltzin Quetzalcōhuātl fled his city of Tōllān where he had been king, what was his destination, what were his deeds, what were his words? His destination was our city, his deeds were to found it, and his words were thus: “Here will be my most favored city on earth, and I christen it Cholōllān, because it is the beautiful city I founded on my flight.” [This is a pun; in Isatian, the verb choloa means “to flee.”]
And he added: “And the people will call this city of the gods Tōllān Cholōllān Tlachīhualtepētl [Cholōllān, Place of Reeds, Man-Made Mountain], first because the people here will be as thick as reeds and it will be like a second Tōllān in all its splendor, and second because the people here will be so great a nation that their pyramids will be taller than the star-piercing mountains.”
And later, when the cities of the Toltecs were brought to ruin, the tribes of the Toltecs—our ancestors—fled to Cholōllān. And it was the god Quetzalcōhuātl who led us here, who granted us entry here.
Our city is then the city of Quetzalcōhuātl. Your city is not the city of any god; it was built by Ah Ek Lemba in the middle of demon-dwelling forests. No wonder then that your king fled from our city like a guinea pig, that our city of Cholōllān is your city of Running Away! [The pun is clearer in Isatian: Tāltepēuh Cholōllān amāltepēuh Cholōliztlān, “Our city of Cholōllān is your city of Flight.”]
[Lacuna in the text]
[And the kings...] of Teōtihuācan and Ācōlmān, of Tetzcoco and Cōhuātlinchān, of Chīmalhuacān and Iztāpalocān and Aztahuacān, of Chālco and Xōchimīlco, of Tīzapan and Coyōhuacān, of Mixcōhuāc and Chapōltepēc, of Tlacōpan and Āzcapōtzalco, of Tenanyohcān and Ehēcatepēc, of Cuauhtitlān and Chicōnauhtlān, of Ixhuatepēc and Ātzacualco and Tepēyacac, of Cōlhuahcān and Iztapalāpan, of Mēxihco-Tlatelōlco and Mēxihco-Tenōchtitlan…
[Lacuna in the text]
[These kings] all support us for their own sake. Who supports your king for his own sake, without trembling in fear? Not a single clot of mud. Impious and tyrannical is Ah Ek Lemba’s authority…
[Lacuna in the text]
Topiltzin Quetzalcōhuātl was born in the year 1 Reed, and he was a king of peace and prosperity. During his reign, ears of corn were as big as a man, and beans were so plentiful that the people burned them for sweat baths. Ah Ek Lemba is born in the year 2 Reed, and he is a king of war and insanity. In his reign, the corn plants shrivel away for lack of people to tend them—he having killed them all—and beans are so rare that people scrounge in filth for a single one. What a fine god your king makes!
And now he runs like a coward deer before Tōllān Cholōllān, runs in defeat—only to be saved by his middle finger! How laughable! The finger is worthier than the man.
The second text is much shorter and of clearer intent. Written in the Yucatec syllabary, it is a brief emotional appeal to the Maya troops of Ah Ek Lemba:
To the Maya people [Maya winikob]
You are in a land of barbarians [Dzul luum, lit. “non-Maya soil”]. Your children are born in a land of barbarians, you grow old in a land of barbarians, you die in a land of barbarians, and you are buried in a land of barbarians, with never a home to call your own.
Do you not miss your native land?
* * *
“Do you… not… miss your native land?” Faltered out Nabatun Namon. He was one of the few literates in the
soldier clan of Namon, and even then it had been a long time since he had ever read his native tongue. His Majesty did everything in the barbarian language now. He checked, one last time, if he had gotten everything right. “Yes, that seems right. ‘Do you not miss your native land?’ That’s what it says.”
Silence.
“Well. Do you?”
Silence.
“How could I? I barely know what it’s like back home.” Nabatun swerved to see who spoke. It was a young boy, eighteen at most. His childhood was in the Gulf Coast, his adolescence in Panama. “All I have are other people’s stories. I’ve got no home.”
Silence (again). Nabatun looked up at the sky, hoping to find some light in all this tenseness, but it was ashen with clouds. It was the kind of weather that his grandmother told him would bring thunderstorms.
“This must end,” his grandmother’s voice seemed to say, but she was dead. Nabatun looked back down and saw an old woman hobble into the center of the men. Ixek’ Nawat, the old dynastiarch’s four-
k’atun [one
k’atun is twenty years] widow. “This must end,” she said again.
“This must end,” the others murmured back. Ixek’ looked around, saw that nobody seemed to disagree, and took that as encouragement to speak.
“The world has gone mad. The children have not seen a single tree or a single bird in the Land of Turkey and Deer [Maya expression for the Yucatan]. The Namons have become beggars, homeless and landless—and now that we have offended the Serpent in Tōllān Cholōllān, we will surely all die. And that thing is all correct! We will die and be buried in a barbarian land.”
“But the King
is the Serpent,” somebody suggested hopefully. “Who knows!” Another asked back. “But he conquered the world!” “But not Cholōllān, clearly.” “Would a god do this to us?” “Have we Maya lost all courage?” “Sycophants!” “Think of the
children, what will they do when we die?” “Coward, the children will do fine!”—“Monster!”—“You greatest fool since this sun was made!”—“I will report this all”—“We will kill the king before you can!”—“
Traitor!”—“Who’s the real traitor here?”—"You're the traitor to your clan!"—"You'll go to some terrible afterlife, but
we will die in war and be reborn as butterflies"—"I'll tell my future children to kill every butterfly they see just so they might kill you again"—"The problem was that we stopped the heart sacrifices"—"Let's start with you then, I'd be very glad to tear out your heart"—“
I will boil you alive and eat you with relish, mark my words!”—“As for you we won’t even eat you, your stupidity spoils the meat”—this went on for the gods knew how long—
“Quiet!” Ixek’ again. “If he is not a god, at the very least he is a sorcerer. It is foolhardy to rebel, even if it were advisable. And whether it is is another question of its own.”
And silence again, of a thicker sort than before. The overcast clouds seemed to have swallowed their words.
“We’ll try.” Everyone’s head turned to see who had spoken. The Nanawat triplets. They were fifteen years old, and their parents had vanished at Huēcalpan. “We don’t think the king is really Topiltzin. And when we’re caught, you can say that we went insane. They’ll believe you.” A final silence, and Nabatun realized with a mix of revulsion and respect that nobody would stop them, that the Nanawats would try, knowing full well that they would die horribly.
“You are all too young,” said Ixek’, but her tone was halfhearted.
“We are old enough for three spears.”
* * *
In August 1409, an attempt was made on Ah Ek Lemba’s life, when three spears were hurled at him. According to later accounts, the king grabbed all three spears with only his right hand while they were still in the air, and snapped all three of them in half in a single twirl of his four fingers. His troops marveled and prepared for the next month’s campaigns, confident that their king could still perform such miracles, reassured that he had not lost his divinity.