The Serpent Priest studied the gathered nobles. “Some are related by blood. The men over there-who stare at you with such reverence-were to be taken to the altar after the King. Others included in the royal assembly are merchants, master artisans, and the captains of the royal guard.”
As Priest Quisac gestured to the royal guards, William spotted a young captain-close to his own age-with ripped biceps, and wearing a creative headdress that utilized part of a crocodile’s jaw. The buff warrior noticed his attention and locked eye contact with William, casting an angry stare his way. It evolved into an all out staring contest to see who would back down. William gave the guy a cocky salute. Caught off guard by the gesture, the young captain looked away, and William returned his attention to the Serpent Priest.
“Are you finished?” Priest Quisac asked with a scowl, having observed the interaction with the Captain.
William nodded, taken down a notch, like being reprimanded by his mother. “Who are those two?” William asked, while pointing at the men in the corner. They were painted like zebras with tall headdresses.
“They are priests,” the Serpent Priest said.
“Priests like you?” William asked. He recalled seeing the priests before, dragging the captives up the pyramid steps to be sacrificed. He wondered how they could still be trusted in the new hierarchy.
Teshna leaned forward. “They do not possess the powers of a Serpent Priest,” she said, and then gave Priest Quisac a surreptitious glance. “But at least they do as they are told.”
“Do not fear, Balam,” Priest Quisac said. “They are trustworthy. The priests merely see to the adherence of our rituals and ceremonies. Yet they lack understanding of the cosmic plan.”
When the Serpent Priest mentioned the cosmic plan, William visualized a brilliant light at the center of the galaxy casting a radiant energy toward Earth. In that brief moment, he witnessed a flash of Earth’s evolution-life springing up and developing in a montage of scattered images. The bloodstone tingled and glowed on his chest. He shook his head, trying to return his focus to the reality around him. With a bewildered expression left hanging on his face, William marveled at Priest Quisac’s ability to cast images like that, and he wondered what made him so unique. It occurred to William that the Serpent Priest also looked different than the others; his skin was a lighter shade, his nose seemed narrower, and his cheek bones sat lower on his face.
The servant reentered from the hallway and explained that Bati could not be found in the palace. William rolled his eyes, concerned that she probably snuck off to the cenote for a swim, even after he had warned her to stay away. But he didn’t want to get Betty in trouble, so he kept quiet about it.
The low-pitched bellows of seashell trumpets outside the palace caught everyone’s attention. “At long last, the games are to begin!” Yax cheered.
The music in the courtyard abruptly ended, and the chatter of the royal assembly ceased, when Honac-Fey-the charismatic Mayan with a diamond-shaped tattoo on his forehead-entered the room and made his way to the King. On his shoulder perched a beautiful owl; it was mostly white, except for the blue highlights around its eyes and tips of its feathers. The owl flew off upon his command, taking temporary residence on a branch high up in the ceiba tree. Upon reaching the King, Honac-Fey bowed.
Yax glared at the man. “Honac-Fey. What is the cause for the delay?”
“I do apologize, my Lord,” Honac-Fey said, over exaggerating by dropping to his knees. He looked like he was begging for his life, but in a sarcastic manner. “The players report being prolonged by seven serpents that crossed their path along the journey from Kinichna. To honor the gods, they had to stop for prayers, and to make proper offerings.” He stood and held his hands out wide with a twisted smile. “Both teams are now ready at the ballcourt. They await your command to begin.”
As Honac-Fey spoke, William noticed a stern look on Priest Quisac’s face. It was clear that the Serpent Priest didn’t like Honac-Fey. William thought he was annoying too, like an animated announcer at a circus sideshow.
“Very well,” Yax said. “Bring Priests Ik-Tanil and Ch’elek with you to perform the blessing rites.”
Honac-Fey gave another embellished bow before departing, with the two priests following him out. The white owl flew off the ceiba tree into the afternoon sky overhead, in the direction of Honac-Fey.
Teshna leaned to her brother, the bright green feathers on her headdress swaying forward. “Seven serpents,” she said with a huff.
Yax glowered at her. “Just be thankful that I did not have to send you down to play.” He took a moment to instruct the servants to keep searching for Bati-to escort her to the ballcourt when she was found-and then he spun back with an excited look, like a kid about to go to the Super Bowl. “Let’s go!” Yax said, as he headed out with Teshna at his side.
Priest Quisac grabbed William by the arm, holding him back a few steps from the others. “Be alert, Balam. As Royal Protector of the King’s family, you must always be mindful for their safety.”
“What do you mean by Royal Protector?” William asked.
“It is the title that you have been awarded. You accepted this responsibility when you allowed the bloodstone to be placed around your neck.”
“What, this thing?” he asked, holding the bloodstone. “I thought it was just a gift.”
“That is correct… a great gift indeed,” Priest Quisac said.
They followed Yax and Teshna down the palace steps and along a short path. When they reached the ceremonial center, they merged with hundreds of citizens who were making their way to the ballcourt. It reminded William of the times he went to sporting events with his dad-walking to the stadium from where they parked, with a crowd growing from various points as they went. However, the bizarre attire of the fans reminded William that he wasn’t in California; it felt like he was heading to a costume party at Xcaret.
William considered the royal protector obligation, not feeling comfortable with it. “Priest Quisac, you need to know… I’m not a warrior,” he whispered, feeling a little embarrassed. “Saving Yax the other night was just… lucky.”
“In the cosmic plan there are no accidents,” Priest Quisac said. “The events of that night were written in the stars. Your destiny calls out to you here and now, Balam. It cannot be avoided.”
William busted out with a big laugh. He couldn’t believe that such a crazy predicament could be his life’s destiny.
The Serpent Priest regarded William with confidence. “To face your destiny with humor is a rare strength indeed.”
As they continued in silence along the stone walkway toward the ballcourt in the clearing, William wondered what he had just gotten himself into by accepting the bloodstone.
Sitting on a bench padded with jaguar skins, William studied the ballcourt. Although not as large as the one he had seen before at Chichen Itza, it had a similar layout. The playing field was about thirty yards in width and forty yards in length. Ramps sloped up from the court on both sides at twenty degree angles, merging with walls that rose another ten feet. A scoring ring, fashioned like a coiled snake, was secured to the upper-center of each side wall. The ramps and walls were bright red, contrasting the white plaster floor of the playing field.
The royal seating where William sat was-in their standards-like a luxury box at a stadium. It was situated at the center of the eastern side of the ballcourt on a raised platform. A thatched roof shaded them from the heat of the late afternoon sun. Others in the royal assembly stood on platforms around the edge of the ballcourt, pressing themselves against the medians, and jockeying for a better position to watch the game.