The Jaguar Shaman

The Jaguar Shaman

The sunrise crept up over the jungle. The village was asleep except for a pair of coupling itzcuintli, the domesticated dogs kept by the people of Central America for centuries. A strange smell wafted from the nearby jungle, inciting the dogs bark a warning. While this was a peaceful Brunka village one hundred fifty men, women and children, generations removed from the last attack by raiders, the men were accustomed to the dangers that living on the edge of tropical jungle presented. Jaguars were the largest predators brave enough to venture into the village in search of a desperate meal. The village men rose quickly, grabbing spear and bow, prepared to repel the invading cat. As they gathered on the edge of the village facing the danger in the jungle, what appeared was no majestic cat. It was an army of men made of shining metal with fair skin and dark hair covering their faces. They made noises when they moved and many were mounted on the backs of great metal beasts. The intruders on foot had strange metal heads with a tall central fin that reached from brown to nape. The villagers froze in fear and awe. Were these the warriors of Tlatchque, come to reward or punish them?

The chief of the village, flanked by two elders and the shaman appeared from behind the line of fifty armed hunters. The chieftain was adorned by his traditional garb, leather and feathers and bone. The holy man was covered in tattoos; the most prominent was a black jaguar that wrapped his body climbed over his shoulder and growled from his chest. They approached the line of Spaniards cautiously, but without guile or intent. To them, the intruders were creatures of wonder, not men like themselves. The first shot rang out, sound of thunder echoing in the jungle. The chieftain fell. The shaman raised his arms in subservience and the invaders closest to him took note he carried no weapon, but his wrists and ankles were adorned with stone bracelets and around his neck he wore a stone sphere. For the briefest moment these appeared to glow before the acrid smell of gunpowder signaled the volley that cut him down as well.

It was a slaughter after the initial salvo. The steel men killed all in their path save a small group that disappeared in the tall grasses that stood between the village and the sea. Then they scavenged what puny riches the village contained and rode north, looking for another village to plunder. The chieftain and jaguar shaman were left were they fell. Neither man had any adornments of gold, silver, copper or tin. Their stone necklaces were objects of scorn to the invaders, not worthy of even being cut from the necks of the fallen. One of the halberdiers, who had thought he had seen the shaman’s stone glow, thought maybe they had caught the reflected light of the morning. He took the time to examine them closely and also left them be as uninteresting and not worth their weight in the bother it would be to carry them away.

The next morning thirty women and children appeared from the grasses. They gathered the corpses and arranged them in a ceremonial pile. The shaman was laid to rest at one end, the chieftain at the other. The survivors buried their friends and...


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