her face could suddenly break into a generous, warm-hearted smile, as if some bit of fortunate news had made her feel good all over. But her sharp, penetrating eyes were dominant, darting here and there, demanding to know everything that happened about her, for she was a woman of unusual intellect.
The crisis stemmed from the unfortunate condition in which her island and her temple found themselves. Cozumel was a handsome island, but it was small and it did lie at the extreme edge of the once-great Maya empire that spread over the southern part of what would later be known as Mexico. The capital city of the fragment of empirethat still existed, Mayapán, lay far to the west and was so involved in its own crumbling affairs that it had neither time nor wealth to waste on Cozumel.
Left to govern their own affairs, the islanders became increasingly pessimistic: “With things falling apart on the mainland, pregnant women no longer flock here for our services. The temple is expensive to maintain. The world is different now, and old centers like this no longer serve any useful purpose.” A rumor circulated that no new High Priest would be appointed and the building would be abandoned to the salt winds blowing in from the sea. But some perceived another problem: “Boatmen have grown lazy and no longer care to ferry travelers to us from the mainland.” One cynic summarized the situation: “We’ve been forgotten. Not enough pilgrims coming to keep us alive. Desolation is upon us.”
If the rumor was true, Ix Zubin would face a double loss, for she not only loved the ritual which ensured the birth of strong children but she also had nurtured a plan whereby her son Bolón might one day ascend to the position of High Priest. Thus both her religion and her family were in jeopardy.
This little bundle of energy was no ordinary woman. Because of the extraordinary position she had held in Cozumel during the lifetimes of her grandfather and her husband, she had during the past three years convinced herself that Bolón was the ideal person to inherit the priesthood. Had the boy’s father lived another four years, till the boy was twenty, she was certain she could have maneuvered him into the office of High Priest, thus ensuring the continuation of the valuable temple and its records, but her husband’s premature death had put a tragic end to that plan.
The unique position she enjoyed in Cozumel society had begun when her grandfather, Cimi Xoc, a noble man of wisdom who knew the stars as brothers and was one of the greatest High Priests, famed even among the rulers at Mayapán for his mastery of the calendar and the orderly procession of the stars, realized that his only son, Ix Zubin’s father, was not capable of mastering the intricacies of Maya astronomy upon which the welfare of the world depended. Grieved by his son’s deficiency, he found solace in the fact that his granddaughter, the amazing child Ix Zubin, did have that peculiar gift, awarded to only a few in each generation, of being able to comprehend almost intuitively the mysteries of numbers and calendars, the moon’s motion and the wanderings of planets.
She was only five when her grandfather had cried with delight: “This child has much wisdom!” and he began to allow Ix Zubin to help him plot the movements of the brilliant morning-evening star long named Venus by scholars elsewhere in the world. Indeed, except for her lack of outstanding physical beauty, she understood the planet so well that she herself might have been called Venus: “Grandfather! When she hides between morning star and evening, she’s like the women who hide when they’re going to have babies,” and from that moment she appreciated the close identification the planet had with Cozumel’s Temple of Fertility, whose fortunes the male members of her family directed.
That insight led to her unprecedented education, for normally women in Maya culture were prevented from any contact with the
The crisis stemmed from the unfortunate condition in which her island and her temple found themselves. Cozumel was a handsome island, but it was small and it did lie at the extreme edge of the once-great Maya empire that spread over the southern part of what would later be known as Mexico. The capital city of the fragment of empirethat still existed, Mayapán, lay far to the west and was so involved in its own crumbling affairs that it had neither time nor wealth to waste on Cozumel.
Left to govern their own affairs, the islanders became increasingly pessimistic: “With things falling apart on the mainland, pregnant women no longer flock here for our services. The temple is expensive to maintain. The world is different now, and old centers like this no longer serve any useful purpose.” A rumor circulated that no new High Priest would be appointed and the building would be abandoned to the salt winds blowing in from the sea. But some perceived another problem: “Boatmen have grown lazy and no longer care to ferry travelers to us from the mainland.” One cynic summarized the situation: “We’ve been forgotten. Not enough pilgrims coming to keep us alive. Desolation is upon us.”
If the rumor was true, Ix Zubin would face a double loss, for she not only loved the ritual which ensured the birth of strong children but she also had nurtured a plan whereby her son Bolón might one day ascend to the position of High Priest. Thus both her religion and her family were in jeopardy.
This little bundle of energy was no ordinary woman. Because of the extraordinary position she had held in Cozumel during the lifetimes of her grandfather and her husband, she had during the past three years convinced herself that Bolón was the ideal person to inherit the priesthood. Had the boy’s father lived another four years, till the boy was twenty, she was certain she could have maneuvered him into the office of High Priest, thus ensuring the continuation of the valuable temple and its records, but her husband’s premature death had put a tragic end to that plan.
The unique position she enjoyed in Cozumel society had begun when her grandfather, Cimi Xoc, a noble man of wisdom who knew the stars as brothers and was one of the greatest High Priests, famed even among the rulers at Mayapán for his mastery of the calendar and the orderly procession of the stars, realized that his only son, Ix Zubin’s father, was not capable of mastering the intricacies of Maya astronomy upon which the welfare of the world depended. Grieved by his son’s deficiency, he found solace in the fact that his granddaughter, the amazing child Ix Zubin, did have that peculiar gift, awarded to only a few in each generation, of being able to comprehend almost intuitively the mysteries of numbers and calendars, the moon’s motion and the wanderings of planets.
She was only five when her grandfather had cried with delight: “This child has much wisdom!” and he began to allow Ix Zubin to help him plot the movements of the brilliant morning-evening star long named Venus by scholars elsewhere in the world. Indeed, except for her lack of outstanding physical beauty, she understood the planet so well that she herself might have been called Venus: “Grandfather! When she hides between morning star and evening, she’s like the women who hide when they’re going to have babies,” and from that moment she appreciated the close identification the planet had with Cozumel’s Temple of Fertility, whose fortunes the male members of her family directed.
That insight led to her unprecedented education, for normally women in Maya culture were prevented from any contact with the
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