AH EK LEMBA IN CENTRAL AMERICA
The goals of Ah Ek Lemba’s Central America campaign were not well-understood until it had nearly concluded. Given what was known of the ruler’s delusions of grandeur and his strategic mindset, it should have been clearer much earlier. But perhaps denial was safer for the world’s peace of mind.
The campaign began in 1403, when Admiral Tlamahpilhuiani arrived with his fleet at the Panamanian port of Ācuappāntōnco. Rumors had already spread about the terrors of the Gulf Coast campaign, there was general panic when the fleet sailed in, and some began to slaughter their children rather than see them die at the hands of the invaders.
Then Tlamahpilhuiani extended the metaphoric olive branch. “In the light of the due honor that the city of Ācuappāntōnco has shown us before our lord returned,” said he, “the city will not be harmed.”
Early accounts make no mention of what this “due honor” should have been, as if it were obvious. Unfortunately, it no longer is obvious. Later accounts are wildly contradictory, but perhaps there was some truth in the
Isatian operas’ portrayal of “Cemānāhuatēpēhuani” as having fled to the south before his return.
The king of Ācuappāntōnco knelt at Tlamahpilhuiani’s feet in gratitude, and the Admiral muttered that he felt most alive when seeing burning ships sinking and burning men drowning, and that it was a great pity that he would not see this city sacked.
Ah Ek Lemba himself arrived the next year with six soldier clans, or 17,000 troops. The impression they made on the citizens of Ācuappāntōnco has been recorded for posterity:
“The king’s helmet was made of bronze, on which the flayed faces of three young men were tightly glued. The faces were stitched together about the mouth, and the king’s face peered out of this enlarged mouth, between the desiccated lips and the human teeth. He had on a cloak of human finger bones, and I heard that it was sewed together with the hair of the kings he had killed. Whenever he moved was the crackling of the bones.
“‘Whose faces were those?’ Somebody asked. The answer came in whispers: ‘Those were the princes of Tamallan, Cōhuātzacualco, and Tzactam. They say he skinned them when their hearts were still beating, and their parents were made to watch.’ ‘And they say that the parents were given the choice of saving their children if they could bite off their own tongues. Most of the parents did so, then the king laughed and flayed off their children’s skin anyways.’”
“‘How could this man be the sage-king Quetzalcōhuātl? Quetzalcōhuātl was a man of peace; this is the greatest maniac the world has ever seen!’ ‘Abroad, he is Xipe Totec; in his own land he is Quetzalcōhuātl.’ ‘That’s right; he says this is war for a greater peace.’ ‘Some Quetzalcōhuātl! He has another man on his throne who does all the work of caring for the poor. But he pretends to be Quetzalcōhuātl by building things that nobody ever asked for.’
I have heard it said that everyone who whispered on that day was found out and killed.
Having established himself as an unwelcome and uncalled-for guest in Central America’s greatest city, Ah Ek Lemba ordered his troops to dismantle all mercenary fortifications between Maya country and Panama.
With the primary exception of Ācuappāntōnco, Central America was divided into small-scale city-states and principalities. Most of these, including Ācuappāntōnco itself, had been established by Mesoamerican mercenaries. Yet in some places, the mercenaries chose to assimilate into local society. Ācuappāntōnco is an iconic example of such a process. The city had been founded by Isatian-speaking mercenaries, and their descendants, still highly honored, dominated the oligarchic Council of the Rich that governed the kingdom. The Ācuappāntōnco army was still perceived as a mercenary company, even to the point of using Isatian (now a foreign language for most of its soldiers) for its orders and attracting recruits from abroad. But for all this, the rulers of Ācuappāntōnco intermarried with Panamanian elites, spoke a Panamanian language, directly ruled a largely Panamanian population, and ultimately identified no longer as “mercenaries” (
olcantin) but as “people of Panama.”
In other places, the mercenaries chose to govern through indigenous vassals and established themselves as a segregated ruling community that considered itself far too superior to mingle with the locals. This was the case in Ācuappāntōnco’s two main competitors for trans-Isthmus commerce, the cities of Ātoyāc (ruled by Yucatec Maya) and Cōzmilco (ruled by Zoques).
Ah Ek Lemba’s Central American policy was to eliminate any viable threat from the area by dismantling fortifications and by tolerating assimilated mercenary companies, such as that of Ācuappāntōnco, but eliminating segregated ones. An attack on the former,
who were the actual local elite, would mean unwanted bloodshed and undue administrative stress as Tiho scrambled to find suitable replacements. But the latter were removable, because those segregated mercenaries were not the ones ruling the local polities—if anything, they were parasitical, a burden that the indigenous elite were only too glad to be rid of.
Ah Ek Lemba remained in Central America from 1404 to 1407, personally supervising the dismantling of fortresses (beginning with the walls of Ācuappāntōnco) and the destruction of mercenary companies. Many of the indigenous elite were pleased to see the overbearing foreigners removed, even if they were only being replaced by another overbearing foreigner in the end, and actively collaborated in Ah Ek Lemba’s campaigns. Other kingdoms seized the chance to expand its sphere of influence under the guise of aiding in Ah Ek Lemba’s wars. The greatest beneficiary was Ācuappāntōnco, which helped Ah Ek Lemba conquer Ātoyāc and Cōzmilco in 1406 after a year-long campaign. Both cities were granted to Ācuappāntōnco, removing all its competition and granting the city a monopoly on Central American portages.
Meanwhile, Admiral Tlamahpilhuiani was building a new fleet on the Pacific with the tribute extorted from Ācuappāntōnco. It set sail in 1406 and enforced Ah Ek Lemba’s regulations on the Pacific coast as well. The fleet of Tiho was at their doorstep, but Pacific Mesoamerica was still only mildly worried.
Ah Ek Lemba returned to Tiho in 1407, having removed all potential mercenary opposition from Central America. (About two dozen thousand mercenaries and their families managed to flee into South America, but theirs is another story.)
In August the next year, Tlamahpilhuiani’s newly minted Pacific fleet arrived at the Huave port of Quizii and demanded submission. Meanwhile, Ah Ek Lemba had personally taken eight soldier clans (22,000 troops) with him to Cempoala, and sent off his Little Finger, General Mahpilxocoyōtl, with five other clans (14,000 troops) to Guatemala.
The goal of the Central American campaign now became evident. Ah Ek Lemba had wanted an easy way to access the Pacific coast of Mesoamerica by sea, hence the subjugation of Ācuappāntōnco. Now, he could conduct campaigns and supply troops along the Atlantic and the Pacific simultaneously, and there was only one other power with interests on both oceans: Cholōllān.
The king of Quizii immediately sent messengers to Cholōllān, asking for help.
The sacred city was ruled by two Quetzalcōhuātl priests, a
tlalchiach and an
aquiach. The
tlalchiach, most sources concur, was a cautious man—some said cowardly. He declared that because Quizii had never been tied to the Feathered Serpent priesthood, there was no need to defend it.
The
aquiach pointed out that Ah Ek Lemba believed himself to be Quetzalcōhuātl, and that he would have taking Cholōllān, the most sacred center of the god’s cult, as his ultimate goal. If Quizii fell, Ah Ek Lemba would be able to attack Oaxaca and Cholōllān simultaneously, and the Cholōltec sphere of influence could probably not resist.
The
tlalchiach overruled the
aquiach. So the latter went to the streets of Cholōllān and asked the people:
“Is the madman Quetzalcōhuātl? Does he have a claim to our city? Is our city his?”
The people gathered by the thousands, and their voices pooled in a flood of cries:
“Ahmo, ca ahmo, zan tochān in tāltepēuh!”
(“No, no indeed, our city is only ours!)
“Shall we let the madman overrun the world? Shall we let our city burn?”
“Ahmo, ca ahmo, cānin cah in tomīuh in tochīmal?”
(“No, no indeed, where are our arrows and our shields?”)
The
tlalchiach heard the people and knew the city would go to war and grieved. The day was sunny and windy. The Sun and Venus and the Milky Way glimmered brightly on the steps of the Great Pyramid, as if promising victory. But further above, the storm-apparatuses cast forth an eerie creak, and the feathers seemed to tear in the wind. The
tlalchiach tracked a bright oropendula feather rip from the Yellow Step and throw itself into the sky, and soon it was lost amid the clouds. The
tlalchiach wondered what would happen to the Pyramid if Ah Ek Lemba won, decided that the thought was too depressing, and walked away.
Ah Ek Lemba’s spies had brought the news to him. The Maya attacked Cholōllān in September 1408, at the height of the harvest season, without any declaration of war.
“I will regain my city,” said Ah Ek Lemba, “The city that was mine before my return.”