Chace - Pandoras Brain

The warriors tied their war canoes to the trees at the edge of the Usumacinta River, and waited. The canoes were long, each carrying up to 50 men. They came from several different cities: the first to arrive were from Palenque, but over the next couple of hours they were followed by boats from Bonampak, Piedras Negras and Yaxchilan cities linked by the river. As each group arrived they were greeted by those already waiting with grins and raised fists, but no-one said a word. This was the biggest fighting force deployed in the Maya rainforest for generations, and they wanted to retain the advantage of surprise for as long as possible

The air was heavy and humid as they waited for the drums which would let them know that their other allies from the cities of Calakmul and Caracol had also arrived. Mighty Pakal, the ruler of Palenque, had spent months negotiating this alliance with the other chiefs, and today was the day when the alliance would be tested, and sealed in blood.

The city of Palenque was rising. Its brightly painted stone-and-stucco buildings were now among the most impressive in the whole of the Maya highlands. Its population was numerous, well-fed, and united. Its rituals were elaborate affairs, well supplied with animal sacrifices, although sparing in their use of human sacrifice. Its warriors were powerful: superbly trained and experienced in battle. If they were successful in todays combat, the swaggering pre-eminence of Tikal would be smashed.

Other cities had risen to challenge Tikal in the past, and so far they had all been crushed by the fierce hammer of Tikals elite Hawk warrior squad. The fighting prowess and ruthlessness of the Hawks was legendary, and was used to frighten and discipline unruly children throughout the jungle highlands.

But no previous challenge had been launched by Palenques great leader, Lord Pakal. Pakal was a phenomenon, combining remarkable physical strength with outstanding skills in strategy and negotiation. He devised plans and constructed alliances that no-one else dreamed of, yet when he explained them they seemed the obvious thing to do. And his patience during the long weeks of negotiations which brought those plans to fruition was superhuman. No citys negotiators left Palenque without agreeing to Lord Pakals proposals.

As a result his people, and most importantly his warrior clan, considered him infallible. They would follow him confidently into the flames of the underworld, certain that Lord Pakal would lead them to safety. And his elite fighting group the Jaguars, led by Mat-Balam, was building a reputation to rival that of Tikals Hawks.

The Jaguars squatted, checking their equipment while they waited. Most of them wore short cotton protective jackets packed with rock salt, and tight bindings of leather or cloth on their forearms and legs. A few pulled on elbow, wrist and knee protectors made of copper alloys, worked to fit comfortably and to glance off sword and knife blows.

Many had daubed patterns on their faces with azure blue paint. They ran calloused fingers along the sharp blades of their weapons to check they had not been nicked or blunted during the two-day river journey.