The Death Relic (7 page)

‘I have to admit, none of that sounds bad to me. Why is he so reviled?’

‘Why?’ Hamilton asked rhetorically. ‘The main reason that modern scholars like myself are reliant on Landa’s book is because he personally burned the Mayan glyphs. If he hadn’t done that, our knowledge of the Maya would be much more advanced. We would be able to read Mayan history in the hand of the Maya, not his distilled version of ancient events.’

‘Landa translated the documents, then burned them?’

He nodded gravely. ‘Are you familiar with the term “auto-da-fé”? It was a ritual used during the Spanish Inquisition.’

She grimaced in disgust. The ceremony was one of the skeletons in the Church’s closet that they would rather forget. ‘The term meant “act of faith” in medieval Spanish. The ritual involved a Catholic Mass, followed by a public procession of the condemned and a reading of their sentences. Torture was quite common, so was burning at the stake.’

Hamilton lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘In July of 1562, Landa ordered an auto-da-fé in the city of Maní. At the end of the ceremony, he burned more than twenty thousand Mayan images and a reported five thousand Mayan idols, claiming they were the “works of the devil”. This marked the beginning of a new campaign, where Mayan nobles were jailed, interrogated and tortured to speed up the mass adoption of Catholicism. Scared for their lives, thousands of Maya fled from the cities and into the jungles to avoid abuse.’

‘He burned twenty-five thousand items? The fire must have been huge.’

‘It could be seen for miles and signalled the start of Landa’s brutal regime. Over the next several decades, the Spanish burned every Mayan document they could get their hands on – much to the dismay of the Maya, who were forced to watch their entire history go up in flames.’

She took a deep breath. ‘The thought of it sickens me.’

Hamilton nodded in agreement. ‘Do you know how many Maya are still living in Mesoamerica today?’

She shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’

‘Approximately ten million. That’s a significant amount when you consider there are less than three million Native Americans still living in the United States.’

‘Ten million is way more than I figured.’

‘Amazingly, do you know how many Mayan codices managed to survive?’

She shook her head, unwilling to guess.

Hamilton held up his hand with his fingers spread. Then he tucked his little finger under his thumb. ‘Only three.’

Maria thought back to Hamilton’s earlier pronouncement, when he had claimed that the Maya vanished overnight during the ninth century, and figured he would amend his statement about the Mayan codices. But unlike before, no correction was forthcoming.

He wiggled his three extended fingers to illustrate the point. ‘I know it’s tough to fathom, but only three codices survived the Spanish conquest and the eventual spread of Christianity. Because of their near extinction, Mayan codices are considered priceless.’

‘Are they on display in Mexico? I’d love to see them.’

He shook his head. ‘Like most items plundered from the New World, they are currently in Europe. As such, each of the codices is named for the city where it eventually settled. The Dresden Codex is being held in the Saxon State Library in Dresden, Germany. The Paris Codex is in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, France. And the third one, The Madrid Codex, is in the Museo de América in Madrid, Spain.’

‘It’s being guarded by Spain? That’s disturbingly ironic.’

‘Trust me, it’s a fact that isn’t lost upon Mayan scholars. If they had their way, all three of the codices would be returned to the Yucatán, where they rightfully belong.’

In 1965, a fourth codex was supposedly discovered in a Mexican cave, but its authenticity has been questioned ever since. Named after the Grolier Club of New York City, an association of bibliophiles that first presented the document to the world, the Grolier Codex consists of eleven damaged pages from a presumed twenty-page book. Since its pages are far less detailed than the other codices and its information is very similar to the Dresden Codex, most experts believe it is a forgery. Therefore, it is usually ignored by academics.

‘With your background, I assume you’ve worked with codices.’

She nodded. ‘The Romans invented them as a replacement for scrolls in the first century AD. Their widespread popularity is generally associated with the rise of Christianity, which used the format for the Bible from the very beginning. No pun intended.’

Named for the Latin word
caudex
, which literally means ‘block of wood’, a codex is a book with multiple sheets of paper (or papyrus, etc.) that have been folded, stitched, bound together and given a cover. Developed by the Romans from wooden writing tablets, the codex has multiple advantages over the scroll, which had been the main form of book in the ancient world. In addition to its sturdiness, a codex provides random access to the information it contains, meaning it can be opened to any page, as opposed to the scroll, which offers only sequential access. Furthermore, codices – the plural form of
codex
– were much cheaper to make than scrolls, because both sides of the page could be used, thus saving paper.

Hamilton took the napkin from his lap and placed it on the table. Then he began folding it lengthwise, similar to a paper fan, one careful fold after another. ‘Mayan codices are different from Roman codices because they were painted on bark cloth, not paper, and screen-folded in this fashion. Made from the inner bark of fig trees, the cloth was far more durable than papyrus and better for writing. Unfortunately, the three codices that survived are relatively new. They were written during the Colonial period, an era that started with the arrival of the Spanish.’

‘That’s less than five hundred years ago.’

He nodded, all too familiar with the maths. ‘Based on the carbon dating of a site in Belize, the Mayan civilization started as early as 2600 BC. That means over four thousand years of history was destroyed by Landa and his men – information we may never recover.’

As a historian, Maria knew the Maya had been around for a long time, but she had never grasped quite how long until that moment. Growing up in Italy, she had heard many stories about Romulus and Remus, the mythical twin brothers who had founded the city of Rome on 21 April 753 BC. Her father used to preach about the date’s significance, saying it, and not the emergence of Ancient Greece, was the ‘true’ beginning of Western Civilization. Despite her hatred of the man, his notion of history had wormed its way into her brain, somehow becoming the benchmark of comparison for anything she examined.

Constantinople? Founded a thousand years
after
Rome.

The Ottoman Empire? Two thousand years
after
Rome.

And so on.

In her field of study, she never had to go before that date. Her mental timeline started in 753 BC and marched towards the birth of Christianity and the present.

But the Maya? They were off the chart in the other direction.

Their civilization started 1,800 years
before
Rome.

Five hundred years
before
the first dynasty in China.

Even
before
the Great Pyramid of Giza.

Maria dwelled on the numbers as they danced through her head. ‘Four thousand years of history is tough for me to comprehend. That’s twice as long as the Catholic Church’s.’

Hamilton nodded. ‘Who knows what we might learn about the world if additional codices were found? They might change our view of everything.’

When he said it, the cocksure grin returned to his face – the same grin that had been present when he had talked about blowing her mind. It had disappeared during their lengthy discussion of the Spanish Conquest, but it was back now in full force, tugging at the corners of his mouth like the strings of a marionette.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You found another codex?’

He refused to answer directly, but the twinkle in his eye spoke volumes. ‘Let’s just say the last few weeks have been interesting.’

‘That’s great!’ she said, trying hard to contain her enthusiasm. Although she barely knew Hamilton, she was thrilled he had found something to cap his illustrious career. For her, it was proof that good things happened to those who worked the hardest – a thought that did much to keep her going in the male-dominated world of archaeology. ‘What’s the next step?’

‘Funny you should ask.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because the next step … is
you
.’

‘Me?’ she shrieked.

He laughed at her reaction. ‘Come now, Maria. Is it really that hard to believe? I mean, I flew you here for a reason – and it wasn’t to drink daiquiris.’

‘I know, but …’

‘But what?’

‘I’m
not
a Maya expert.’

‘Thank goodness for that!’ he said, laughing. ‘We already have one of those, and his name is Terrence Hamilton.’

She cracked a smile, despite her continued confusion. As an expert in the field of Christianity, she honestly didn’t know how she could help his cause.

‘Listen,’ he said in a soothing voice, ‘I know it doesn’t make much sense right now, but trust me when I tell you, I need your help more than you can possibly imagine.’

‘You do?’

‘I certainly do.’

‘And it has something to do with my field?’

‘Definitely. It’s right up your alley.’

She paused for a moment, thinking things through. ‘I have to admit, I’m intrigued by your project. I can’t imagine what it has to do with me. I really can’t.’

He smiled. ‘Just say the word, and I’ll fill you in on everything.’

She took a deep breath, then nodded. ‘OK. I’ll do it.’

‘You’ll do it?’

‘Yes, I’ll join your team. But only because I’m so intrigued.’

Hamilton jumped from his seat with a burst of excitement. ‘Excellent! You’ve made an old man very happy!’

‘I can see that.’

‘Seriously, my dear, I am truly grateful.’

Maria beamed with pride. It had been a long time since she had felt so appreciated. ‘Don’t go thanking me yet. Let’s hold off on the flattery until I’ve done something to merit it.’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said sheepishly. ‘It’s just, I don’t know. Now that you’re in my corner, I feel like everything is going to be all right.’

She laughed at him. ‘There you go again. More flattery.’

He shook his head. ‘That wasn’t flattery. Just confidence in our abilities. Nothing wrong with a little confidence, is there?’

‘No. I guess not.’

‘What about gifts?’

‘Gifts?’ she said, confused.

‘What’s your stance on gifts?’

‘Um … I tend to like them.’

‘Wonderful,’ he said, reaching into his pocket. ‘Because I have a gift for you.’

She immediately tensed. ‘I hope it isn’t jewellery. Otherwise, we might have to revisit the dirty-old-man conversation we had earlier.’

He brushed aside the remark. ‘Good heavens, Maria. It’s nothing like that. In fact, it’s the least romantic gift I can think of.’

She relaxed slightly. ‘What is it?’

He extended his hand to reveal a metal cross. Approximately six inches in length, it appeared to be quite old. Accented by four red stones, which were mounted near the ends of the beams, it had a small hole in the middle of the cross. At first glance, she couldn’t tell if a jewel had been pried from the centre or something had fallen off over the years. Whatever the case, the cross was still beautiful, despite the hole.

She took it in her hands. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘On a recent dig,’ he explained. ‘Unlike you, I’m
not
a religious person – never have been, never will be – so I have no use for this trinket. I’m simply not the praying type. However, I thought someone in your field might appreciate it. If not, I’d be happy to return it to our box of goodies. You’d be surprised what you find when you search for long enough.’

After dinner, Payne and Jones went to a sports bar on East Carson Street, where they could shoot pool and watch the hockey game. Led by Sidney Crosby, one of the best players in the world, the Pittsburgh Penguins were playing a late-night game against the Vancouver Canucks. Despite the bad weather outside, the bar was packed with Penguins fans, many of whom wore the team’s black and gold colours as they guzzled beer and shouted profanities at the dozens of TVs.

For Payne, a joint like this felt like home. Despite his military academy education and his title as
CEO
of Payne Industries, he was a blue-collar guy at heart. Raised by his grandfather, who had started out as a labourer at a local steel mill before starting his own company, Payne spent much of his childhood in a hard hat. During the school year, he was allowed to concentrate on academics and athletics, both of which he excelled at, but during the summer months, his grandfather put him to work on the floor alongside grizzled men more than twice his age who picked on him because of his surname. The experience did more than toughen Payne up. It showed him how blessed he was to have opportunities outside of the mill.

‘Nice shot,’ Jones teased as he put down his beer and grabbed the pool cue from Payne. ‘Too bad you missed.’

Payne shrugged. ‘The hockey game distracted me.’

‘Doesn’t matter. It’s still my turn. Let me show you how it’s done.’ Jones eyed the table for a few seconds, then pointed to the far end. ‘Six ball, corner pocket.’

He calmly lined up the shot, then buried the ball with one swift strike.

Payne grunted but said nothing, which was standard protocol for them. When they competed against each other, compliments were nonexistent unless someone did something miraculous – like a hole-in-one in golf or a 300-game in bowling – and even those comments came begrudgingly. Once their match was complete, their friendship returned to normal, but during the heat of battle, they were competitors who did just about anything to gain an advantage. And that included playing mind games.

‘So,’ Payne said, ‘I’m surprised you like eight-ball as much as you do.’

Jones moved around the table, looking for his next shot. ‘Why’s that?’