Chapter 46
The Southern Campaign and Retirement, 48-77 K
(Mexico City & Cuernavaca, 1416-45)
Three years after our meeting, we began the new campaign. Our fleet was now plying our eastern coasts and was readied to deliver an Ordu from the northern khanate to the mainland across from the terminus of the island chain. The southern Ordu would travel overland through the isthmus. George would command my forces, and Jelme would lead the northern forces. The coast had been mapped between the terminus of the island chain and the isthmus, and, indeed, it was connected. We also had determined that there were mainly moderately sized chiefdoms in the western part of the area and smaller ones in the eastern part. There was a very large bay almost midway between the jump-off points that could serve as a rendezvous for the two wings. The coastal terrain varied from jungle at both jump-off points to cultivated lands and arid scrublands in between. The interior was still something of a mystery, except for the areas mapped by our merchants. These were mostly confined to the western area. There were at least three lines of mountains with valleys in between them. The western valley was more narrow and shallow, the eastern very broad and deep with a mighty river (the Yuma) in its midst. The easternmost mountain line extended almost to the sea, but the other two stopped well short, leaving a large heavily cultivated alluvial plain along the coast. We knew that the people on this coastal plain were divided into two major people, the Sinu in the center and west and the Tairona in the east. Both were moderately developed chiefdoms engaged in agriculture and quite skilled in gold working. Neither people were united under a single chief, but were rather split into chiefdoms of varying size and strength. To the south of the isthmus along the coastal jungle were a more primitive people called the Choco who were much like the Cuna, although not as fierce. They had been much impressed by our defeat of the Cuna and had been joining us one band at a time over the years and aiding our mapping of their area. We also knew of a people called the Quimbaya that lived in the middle part of the western valley. They were also heavily engaged in agriculture and quite skilled at gold working. There were also a people called the Muisca that lived on high plateaus in the eastern line of mountains. They also cultivated crops, but were less skilled in gold working. They were known to mine salt and the beautiful clear dark green stone (emerald) that was highly prized as an ornamental. I had seen a few of them in Tenochtitlan (where they were called quetzalitzli) and often wondered where they were from. These last two peoples were not in the target area of our campaign, however.
As usual, the Maya Ordu would be the first to go. I decided to use five tumen initially. Each would cover an area about sixty li wide and would march eastward along the coast until they reached the large bay. Juchi was also sending five tumen and had already stockpiled supplies in the last island of the chain guarded by the first of the tumen. They would begin sailing to the mainland as soon as the next tumen arrived on the fleet. It would take a while before all five tumen were in place, but the first ones would begin moving inland and approaching the locals. They would move down to the mouth of a large river called the Warao, after the people living in its large delta. After securing that area, they would wait for the arrival of the other tumen before moving west along a similar three hundred li wide path from the coast. My tumen would arrive in twos and begin contacting the locals immediately east of the Choco and moving well inland into the first line of mountains before pivoting north along the shore. Both wings would receive fresh tumen during the campaign to either replace or supplement the original five as needed.
Our part of the campaign went quite smoothly at first. The small groups in the foothills and northern end of the first mountain line needed little persuasion to join us. Isolated bands attacked us and were wiped out. The Sinu tried to talk us to death, but in the end most of their chiefs submitted with only token reluctance. The Tairona refused to have anything to do with us, however. None of the chiefs would join, and in fact, they joined forces to resist us and even had the temerity to attack us first. Their attack was beaten off when the artillery opened up on them. Shaken, they retreated to their larger cities, but would not surrender. George then cut them off landward and began gradually enveloping them toward the sea by besieging and reducing their southern and eastern cities first and holding lines to the sea. There was an isolated mountain group close to the sea. Most of their major cities were on the northern and western foothills of this group. George manned the line with three tumen and sent the other two east. One went around the mountain group and attacked from the northeast, and the other went through the mountains and attacked from the southeast. The resistance was fierce, and at the critical moment, two fresh tumen arrived from the isthmus to roll over their last strongholds. George was loath to wipe the Tairona out as was our custom because he was quite impressed by their large cities, canals, and roads. These last were their undoing since we utilized them to our great benefit during the campaign. Instead, he executed the chiefs and most of the ruling class and organized the people along the lines of the Putun Maya as a craft and mercantile people. He sent for some the Putun Maya to settle among them and expedite the transition. He sent me a long report on his decisions and asked for my approval. I was quite impressed by his actions and praised him lavishly. The Tairona eventually proved invaluable. Over the years, they began to use the Putun Maya boats and ply the coasts of the land in all directions greatly increasing the flow of goods and were essential in the further mapping of what proved to be a huge landmass. East of the Tairona, the land was more arid and the people were loosely organized seminomadic tribes hunting, fishing, or gathering. They generally were happy to join us. We reached the large bay first and swept a large area around it.
The northern group arrived shortly after our Ordu had finished rounding the bay. They had met varied resistance, but had taken a long time to get into position because of the long distances they had to travel. The campaigns were becoming a logistical nightmare for the northern Ordu, and some other arrangement would have to be made. While George and Jelme were discussing the problem, word reached them that Juchi had died. Theodore was placed in command of mopping up and consolidating the new lands, and they returned north. Word also reached me, and with a heavy heart, I also made my way north with Paula. I arrived first, not surprisingly, and offered my condolences to Juchi’s wife and daughters. Juchi had already been buried according to custom so I could only bid him farewell in my mind. When Jelme and George arrived, Jelme was immediately proclaimed Khakhan, and George and I pledged our continued allegiance.
Jelme had always been a thoughtful young man, and he had matured into a decisive, insightful man, a credit to his father. He immediately called a council meeting and graciously invited George and I to attend. He retained his father’s council although he added a few new members. He confirmed my position as Khan of Anahuac and asked if I were ready to name a successor among my sons. I immediately named George, and Jelme confirmed him before the council, making the succession official. I thanked him for his confidence in my family and me. He thanked me for my long and unswerving loyalty. He then told me that if I ever grew weary of ruling, I could abdicate, I didn’t have to die to leave the position. That gave me something to think about on the way back, and indeed, some three years later, when I was sure all was well in every part of my Khanate, I turned it over to George and retired to Cuauhnahuac.
On the way back from the Eagle Ordu, George told me what Jelme had decided to do about the southern landmass. Since we were each in possession of a portion of it, he would rotate tumen to the eastern part while we would rotate them to the western part to keep the peace. The next time we decided on a campaign, we should organize a volunteer grouping of tumen made up from the standing Ordu. These would be sent to the frontier as they were organized and would only travel with their personal weapons. The occupying Ordu would also guard a supply depot complete with cannon and horses enough for several tumen. This would take a while to set up, but then it would take a while to pacify the new areas also. This organization would prevent all the disruptive movement of tumen over ever-increasing distances, especially over the ocean. We would be free to extend our portion whenever we chose; there would be no further need of acting in concert. He also felt we should place someone in charge of our portion of the area. I decided to leave Theodore in charge and sent his family to join him. Jelme placed Kaidu, Mukali’s oldest son, in command of his part. Kaidu had been a member of his staff during the campaign and had served with distinction.
When I retired, I only pressed George to keep me up on the latest map additions; otherwise, I would in no way annoy him. He could seek my advice if he wished, but I knew he didn’t need it. I must admit, George followed my instructions to the letter. He sent me copies of all the latest map fragments and otherwise did not bother me. There are those who would have been offended by this, but I was relieved. Paula and I took long rides in the beautiful hills around our home and occasionally undertook a long journey to visit Smoking Mirror. If the summer was particularly hot, George would stay with us for a while, but he never talked over affairs of the Khanate; we only discussed the family. John eventually came back to join us with his wife, Wurteh, an Ani’ Yun’-wiya related to Mazatl. She had insisted on taking a new name on being married and had settled on Moonlight, since there had been a full moon on the night they had met. This was rendered Metztlaconac or “Glowing Moon” in Nahual. John had become much interested in healing the sick, but did not use the rituals he had learned to perform, only the medicines and treatments he had mastered. He felt the ritual was only for show and did nothing to help. He was very gentle and patient with the ill and did what he could to help them. He grew to be quite revered by his patients, but he was never satisfied and went on long journeys to learn new techniques and find new medicines.
Theodore would occasionally send me a summary report of what was happening on the frontier. He had been sending merchant trains farther and farther into the landmass. The coastal mapping had been hampered in the west by a north-flowing coastal current, but they had eventually discovered a south-flowing current farther out to sea that eventually turned and met the coastal current, thus describing a circular flow. They took advantage of this and finally mapped the northern part of the coast as well as the currents. The mapping ships would run into primitive rafts and small boats with fishermen occasionally, but these would flee landward, and we did not bother them. On land, we were slowly moving along the coast, which was a dense jungle for at least as far down the coast from the isthmus as we had penetrated. The people on the coast remained primitive, like the Choco, but they had heard rumors of a great kingdom to the south ruled by a god. The people of this kingdom were called the Chimu and their capital was called Chan Chan. As with most such rumors, there was likely some truth to it, but only some. I suspected it would turn out to be another stratified society like the Natchez, who had also been ruled by a “god,” the Great Sun.
Word would also come from the other frontier, although indirectly through George. While the western coast of the landmass seemed to extend generally southward, with only a few capes and bays to break it up, the eastern coast continued to extend eastward, seemingly endlessly, although it was also tending a little south. It, too, was mostly jungle and primitive people. Kaidu had also been expanding along the coast, but the people were only slightly cooperative and even then, inconsistently. They seemed to want nothing from us or anyone else, except for wives (for whom they raided each other). They were also quite adept at fading into the jungle and making themselves invisible. More than one punitive expedition returned empty-handed. Jelme was becoming impatient with the frustration, and Kaidu had begun turning one tribe against another to thin them out. I thought this was wrong, but it was not my place to chide him about it. Later, the Zhen epidemic broke out among the locals and greatly weakened them. As it happened, this epidemic struck just as a large-scale punitive expedition was getting under way, and before long they had swept a long stretch of the coast free of any hostile tribes.
I was sorry to hear that the plague had struck there for I was worried about how far it would spread. Indeed, it came right around the coast and eventually was raging in our areas of the southern landmass. It eventually spread throughout both Khanates also, but this time did its damage only to the young. In the south, however, it was devastating to all ages. It took many years to rebuild the populations under our control. We had little information how much damage occurred beyond our control, but suspected it was considerable. The plague did have the effect of the Quimbaya sending emissaries to us for help and soon joining us as allies to secure that help. The Muisca did not seem to be affected at first, but eventually they, too, were devastated. They did not ask for any help, however, nor did they join us. External trade ended for a few years while supplies were brought in to help rebuild the people. A few more of the coastal peoples also joined us, as did the people south of the Quimbaya. These were small chieftaincies with organized societies based on agriculture and fishing, but they were so devastated they could not function independently and were heartened by our acceptance of the Quimbaya.
Over the years, our mappers kept working the coast, and when the trade resumed, the interior was also partially sketched in. The western coast bulged westward not far south of the Choco area. It was a gradual bulge that seemed to end in a large bay with several islands, but it continued to bulge south of the bay for about six hundred li before finally tending back eastward. The Chimu people proved to be in this area but contact was limited. Somewhere along the Chimu coast, the south-flowing coastal current, which we had discovered south of the circular current, was overwhelmed by the north-flowing offshore current, and mapping became quite slow. The current extended too far out to sea for our boats, although there was some talk of trying to cross it, get as far south as possible, then rejoin and ride it and the prevailing winds back north along the coast. This expedition was still being planned. In the east, the wind blew toward shore, and the currents flowed west. Still, they had mapped the coast at least as far as a mighty river with an enormous mouth filled with islands. They were still mapping the islands but had ascertained that the coast continued generally eastward beyond the river. We were much farther south along our coast than they were, but not much farther in terms of coastline. No information on the people encountered was coming from the eastern mappers.
Smoking Mirror died not long after the Zhen plague outbreak. Mazatl only lived about a year longer. The same year, Padraig and Mathilde died within a few days of each other. One by one, all the people I knew were dying, not by the plague, just by advancing years. I was amazed that I continued to enjoy good health, and although it seemed to take me longer to get up in the morning, I was still able to do so. I suspect I was kept young because there were always children about. John’s family lived with us, of course, and he had three children. Also one or more of our grandchildren and their families were usually visiting us at all times. John had gone to help with the plague and was gone for almost four years. He was even more quiet and introspective when he returned, but he didn’t seem to want to discuss his experiences. A few months after his return, Metztlaconac died of a mysterious ailment. John had tried all he knew to try, but was unable to diagnose the ailment or cure it. He was able to alleviate the great pain she was suffering. After she died, he went on another journey, back to the Eagle Ordu to confer with Okuh-hatuh, then on to the Salmon Ordu to talk to Cho Yi. While he was gone, George died suddenly and was succeeded by his eldest son, John. Paula and I went to Tlatelolco for the funeral and the installation of the new Khan. We had decided on cremation rather than the Mongol hidden burial. A large pyre was erected at the foot of the temple to Tengri and John set the flame. The ashes were gathered and thrown into the lake, near its middle. It was strange burying another one of our children. The installation ceremony was just like the one for George. All the local Ordu filled the square in full regalia and, when John was proclaimed Khan, beat their shields with their swords.
When my son John returned home some years later, he had a new wife, Paula, Padraig and Mathilde’s youngest child. She had been married to Skolaskin, a Salst minghan commander in the Salmon Ordu, but he had died in a hunting accident. She also had three children from her first marriage and brought them with her. Their timing couldn’t have been better, because my Paula died the day after their arrival. She died peacefully in her sleep. She had seemed just fine that day and had not mentioned any pain. I was crushed by her loss, but with all the activity around me, I was unable to give myself over to grief, except at night when I would feel truly alone. Then every morning the children would come into my room and get me up to tell them stories. I began thinking often of the past and the full life I had lived. I was ready to die, but didn’t and couldn’t understand why. Then John told me his Paula was with child. I had thought she was a little too old for that, but John, himself, had been something of a late child also. In due time a son was born. They insisted on naming him Karl. So it was I came to write this journal. Now, perhaps this journal was the last thing I had to do before I die, and finally I can join my Paula.
Since beginning this book, I have been dreaming frequently and remembering the dreams. Instead of the ridiculous dreams I had when I was younger, these are wonderful dreams of my journeys with Paula. We are both young and happy. The last thing I see before I awaken is her smiling face. The dreams are so vivid that I can feel the cool and wet and hot and dry. I can smell the tundra, the plain, the flowers, the forest, and the sea. Last night I dreamed of Grandfather George, Givevneu, and Kaidu. They were standing together at the mouth of a cave or tunnel. They turned toward me and extended their arms to welcome me. Perhaps it is finally my time. I hope so.