THE CHOICE
That night I slept but ill who was overwhelmed with all that had
befallen me of good and evil. I had gained a wondrous love, but she who
gave it was, it seemed, about to be lost to me, aye, and to be thrown
to another whom she hated, to forward the dark policies of a great and
warlike people. I had spoken to her with high words of hope, but of it
in my heart there was little. She would follow what she held to be her
duty to the end, and that end, if she kept her promise and did not die
as she desired to do--was--the arms of Urco. From these I could see no
escape for her, and the thought maddened me. Moreover, Kari was gone
leaving me utterly alone among these strangers, and whether he would
return again I did not know. Oh! almost I wished that I were dead.
The morning broke at last and I arose and called for Zapana. Then came
others who said that my servant, Zapana, could not be found, whereat
I affected surprise and anger. Still these others waited on me well
enough, and I rose and ate in pomp and luxury. Scarcely had I finished
my meal than there appeared heralds who summoned me to the presence of
the king Huaracha.
I went, borne in a litter, although an arrow from my black bow would
have flown from door to door. At the portal of the palace, which was
like others I had seen, only finer, I was met by soldiers and gaily
dressed servants and led across a courtyard within, which I could see
was prepared for some ceremony, to a small chamber on the further side.
Here, when my eyes grew accustomed to the half-darkness, I perceived a
man of some sixty years of age, and behind him two soldiers. At once I
noted that everything about this man was plain and simple; the chamber,
which was little more than four whitewashed walls with a floor of stone,
the stool he sat on, even his apparel. Here were no gold or silver or
broidered cloths, or gems, or other rich and costly things such as these
people love, but rather those that are suited to a soldier. A soldier he
looked indeed, being burly and broad and scarred upon his homely face,
in which gleamed eyes that were steady and piercing.
As I entered, the king Huaracha, for it was he, rose from his stool and
bowed to me, and I bowed back to him. Then he motioned to one of the
soldiers to give me another stool, upon which I sat myself, and speaking
in a strong, low voice, using that tongue which Kari had taught me,
said:
“Greeting, White-God-from-the-Sea, or golden-bearded man named the lord
Hurachi, I know not which, of whom I have heard so much and whom I am
glad to behold in my poor city. Say, can you understand my talk?”
Thus he spoke, searching me with his eyes, though all the while I
perceived that they rested rather on my armour and the great sword,
Wave-Flame, than on my face.
I gave him back his greeting and answered that I understood the tongue
he used though not so very well, whereon he began to speak about the
armour and the sword, which puzzled him who had never seen steel.
“Make me some like them,” he said, “and I will give you ten times their
weight in gold, which, after all, is of no use since with it one cannot
kill enemies.”
“In my country with it one can corrupt them,” I answered, “or buy them
to be friends.”
“So you have a country,” he interrupted shrewdly. “I thought that the
gods had none.”
“Even the gods live somewhere,” I replied.
He laughed, and turning to the two soldiers, who also were staring at my
mail and sword, bade them go. When the heavy door had shut behind them
and we were quite alone, he said:
“My lord Hurachi, I have heard from my daughter how she found you in
the sea, a story indeed. I have also heard, or guessed, it matters not
which, that her heart has turned towards you, as is not strange, seeing
the manner of man you are, if indeed you be not more than man, and that
women are ever prone to love those whom they think they have saved. Is
this true, my lord Hurachi?”
“Ask of the Lady Quilla, O King.”
“Mayhap I have asked and at last it seems that you make no denial. Now
hearken, my lord Hurachi. You are my honoured guest and save one thing,
all I have is yours, but you must talk no more alone with the lady
Quilla in gardens at night.”
Now, making no attempt to deny or explain which I saw would be useless,
since he knew it all, I asked boldly:
“Why not?”
“I thought that perchance my daughter had told you, Lord Hurachi, but if
you desire to hear it from my own lips also, for this reason. The lady
Quilla is promised in marriage and if she lives that promise must be
fulfilled, since on it hangs the fate of nations. Therefore, it is,
although to grieve to part such a pair, that you and she must meet no
more in gardens or elsewhere. Know that if you do, you will bring about
her death and your own, if gods can die.”
Now I thought awhile and answered:
“These are heavy words, King Huaracha, seeing that I will not hide from
you that I love your daughter well and that she, who is great-hearted,
loves me well and desires me for her husband.”
“I know it and I grieve for both of you,” he said courteously.
“King Huaracha,” I went on, “I see that you are a soldier and the lord
of armies, and it has come into my mind that perchance you dream of
war.”
“The gods see far, White Lord.”
“Now god or man, I also am a soldier, King, and I know arts of battle
which perhaps are hidden from you and your people; also I cannot be
harmed by weapons because of magic armour that I wear, and none can
stand before me in fight because of this magic sword I carry, and I can
direct battles with a general’s mind. In a great war, King, I might be
useful to you were I the husband of your daughter and therefore your
son and friend, and perchance by my skill make the difference to you and
your nation between victory and defeat.”
“Doubtless this is so, O Son-of-the-Sea.”
“In the same fashion, King, were I upon the side of your enemies, to
them I might bring victory and to you defeat. Whom do you desire that I
should serve, you or them?”
“I desire that you should serve me,” he replied with eagerness. “Do
so and all the wealth of this land shall be yours, with the rule of my
armies under me. You shall have palaces and fields and gold and silver,
and the fairest of its daughters for wives, and be worshipped as a
god, and for aught I know, be king after me, not only of my country but
mayhap of another that is even greater.”
“It is a good offer, King, but not enough. Give me your daughter,
Quilla, and you may keep all the rest.”
“White Lord, I cannot, since to do so I must break my word.”
“Then, King, I cannot serve you, and unless you kill me first--if you
are able--I will be, not your friend, but your enemy.”
“Can a god be killed, and if so can a guest be killed? Lord, you know
that he cannot. Yet he can remain a guest. To my country you have come,
Lord, and in my country you shall stay, unless you have wings beneath
that silver coat. Quilla goes hence but here you bide, my lord Hurachi.”
“Perchance I shall find the wings,” I answered.
“Aye, Lord, for it is said that the dead fly, and if I may not kill you,
others may. Therefore my counsel to you is to stay here, taking such
things as my poor country can give you, and not to try to follow the
moon (by this he meant Quilla) to the golden city of Cuzco, which
henceforth must be her home.”
Now having no more to say, since war had been declared between us, as
it were, I rose to bid this king farewell. He also rose, then, as
though struck by a sudden thought, said that he desired to speak with my
servant, Zapana, he whom the lady Quilla had found with me in the island
of the sea. I replied that he could not since Zapana had vanished, I
knew not where.
At this intelligence he appeared to be disturbed and was beginning to
question me somewhat sternly as to who Zapana might be and how I had
first come into his company, when the door of the room opened and
through it Quilla entered even more gorgeously robed and looking
lovelier than ever I had seen her. She bowed, first to the King and then
to me, saying:
“Lord and Father, I come to tell you that the Inca Upanqui draws near
with his princes and captains.”
“Is it so, Daughter?” he answered. “Then make your farewell here and now
to this White-Son-of-the-Sea, since it is my will that you depart with
Upanqui who comes to escort you to Cuzco, the City of the Sun, there to
be given as wife to the prince Urco, son of the Sun, who will sit on the
Inca’s throne.”
“I make my farewell to the lord Hurachi as you command,” she answered,
curtseying, and in a very quiet voice, “but know, my father, that I
love this White Lord as he loves me, and that therefore, although I
may be given to the Prince Urco, as a gold cup is given, never shall he
drink from the cup and never will I be his wife.”
“You have courage, Daughter, and I like courage,” said Huaracha. “For
the rest, settle the matter as you will and if you can slip from the
coils of this snake of an Urco unpoisoned, do so, since my bargain is
fulfilled and my honour satisfied. Only hither you shall not return to
the lord Hurachi, nor shall the lord Hurachi go to you at Cuzco.”
“That shall be as the gods decree, my father, and meanwhile I play my
part as _you_ decree. Lord Hurachi, fare you well till in life or death
we meet again.”
Then she bowed to me, and went, and presently without more words we
followed after her.
In front of the palace there was a great square of open ground
surrounded by houses, except towards the east, and on this square
was marshalled an army of men all splendidly arrayed and carrying
copper-headed spears. In front of these was pitched a great pavilion
made of cloths of various colours. Here King Huaracha, simply dressed in
a robe of white cotton but wearing a little crown of gold and carrying
a large spear, took his seat upon a throne, while to his right, on a
smaller throne, sat Quilla, and on his left stood yet another throne
ornamented with gold, that was empty. Between the throne of Huaracha and
that which was empty stood a chair covered with silver on which I was
bidden to take my seat, so placed that all could see me, while behind
and around were lords and generals.
Scarcely were we arranged when from the dip beyond the open space
appeared heralds who carried spears and were fantastically dressed.
These shouted that the Inca Upanqui, the Child of the Sun, the god who
ruled the earth, drew near.
“Let him approach!” said Huaracha briefly, and they departed.
Awhile later there arose a sound of barbarous music and of chanting and
from the dip below emerged a glittering litter borne upon the shoulders
of richly clothed men all of whom, I was told afterwards, were princes
by blood, and surrounded by beautiful women who carried jewelled fans,
and by councillors. It was the litter of the Inca Upanqui, and after
it marched a guard of picked warriors, perhaps there were a hundred of
them, not more.
The litter was set down in front of the throne; gilded curtains were
drawn and out of it came a man whose attire dazzled the eyes. It seemed
to consist of gold and precious stones sewn on to a mantle of crimson
wool. He wore a head-dress also of as many colours as Joseph’s coat,
surmounted by two feathers, which he alone might bear, from which
head-dress a scarlet fringe that was made of tasselled wool hung down
upon his forehead. This was the Inca’s crown, even to touch which was
death, and its name was _Lautu_. He was a very old man for his white
locks and beard hung down upon his splendid garments and he supported
himself upon his royal staff that was headed by a great emerald. His
fine-cut face also, though still kingly, was weak with age and his eyes
were blear. At the sight of him all rose and Huaracha descended from his
throne, saying in a loud voice:
“Welcome to the land of the Chancas, O Upanqui, Inca of the Quichuas.”
The old monarch eyed him for a moment, then answered in a thin voice:
“Greeting to Huaracha, _Curaca_ of the Chancas.”
Huaracha bowed and said:
“I thank you, but here among my own people my title is not _Curaca_, but
King, O Inca.”
Upanqui drew himself up to his full height and replied:
“The Incas know no kings throughout the land of Tavantinsuyu save
themselves, O Huaracha.”
“Be it so, O Inca; yet the Chancas, who are unconquered, know a king,
and I am he. I pray you be seated, O Inca.”
Upanqui stood still for a moment frowning, and, as I thought, was about
to make some short answer, when suddenly his glance fell upon me and
changed the current of his mind.
“Is that the White-god-from-the-Sea?” he asked, with an almost childish
curiosity. “I heard that he was here, and to tell the truth that is why
I came, just to look at him, not to bandy words with you, O Huaracha,
who they say can only be talked to with a spear point. What a red beard
he has and how his coat shines. Let him come and worship me.”
“He will come, but I do not think that he will worship. They say he is a
god himself, O Inca.”
“Do they? Well, now I remember there are strange prophecies about a
white god who should rise out of the sea, as did the forefather of the
Incas. They say, too, that this god shall do much mischief to the land
when he comes. So perhaps he had better not draw too near to me, for I
like not the look of that great big sword of his. By the Sun, my father,
he is tall and big and strong” (I had risen from my chair) “and his
beard is like a fire; it will set the hearts of all the women burning,
though perhaps if he is a god he does not care for women. I must consult
my magicians about it, and the head priest of the Temple of the Sun.
Tell the White God to make ready to return with me to Cuzco.”
“The lord Hurachi is my guest, O Inca, and here he bides with me,” said
Huaracha.
“Nonsense, nonsense! When the Inca invites any one to his court, he must
come. But enough of him for the present. I came here to talk of other
matters. What were they? Let me sit down and think.”
So he was conducted to his throne upon which he sat trying to collect
his mind, which I saw was weak with age. The end of it was that he
called to his aid a stern-faced, shifty-eyed, middle-aged minister, whom
after I came to know as the High-priest Larico, the private Councillor
of himself and of his son, Urco, and one of the most powerful men in
the kingdom. This noble, I noted, was one who had the rank of an Earman,
that is, he wore in his ear, which like that of Kari was stretched
out to receive it, a golden disc of the size of an apple, whereon was
embossed the image of the sun.
At a sign and a word from his dotard master this Larico began to speak
for him as though he were the Inca himself, saying:
“Hearken, O Huaracha. I have undertaken this toilsome journey, the last
I shall make as Inca, for be it known to you that I purpose to divest
myself of the royal Fringe in favour of the prince, Urco, begotten to
me in the body and of the Sun in spirit, and to retire to end my days in
peace at my palace of Yucay, waiting there patiently until it pleases my
father, the Sun, to take me to his bosom.”
Here Larico paused to allow this great news to sink into the minds of
his hearers, and I thought to myself that when I died I would choose to
be gathered to any bosom rather than to that of the Sun, which put me in
mind of hell. Then he went on:
“Rumours have reached me, the Inca, that you, Huaracha, Chief of the
Chancas, are making ready to wage war upon my empire. It was to test
these rumours, although I did not believe them, that awhile ago I sent
an embassy to ask your only child, the lady Quilla, in marriage to the
prince Urco, promising, since he has no sister whom he may wed and since
on the mother’s side she, your daughter, has the holy Inca blood in her
veins, that she should become his _Coya_, or Queen, and the mother of
him who shall succeed to the throne.”
“The embassy came, and received my answer, O Inca,” said Huaracha.
“Yes, and the answer was that the lady Quilla should be given in
marriage to the Prince Urco, but as she was absent on a visit, this
could not happen until she returned. But since then, O Huaracha, more
rumours have reached me that you still prepare for war and seek to
make alliances among my subjects, tempting them to rebel against me.
Therefore I am here myself to lead away the lady Quilla and to deliver
her to the Prince Urco.”
“Why did not the Prince Urco come in person, O Inca?”
“For this reason, Huaracha, from whom I desire to hide nothing. If the
Prince had come, you might have set a trap for him and killed him, who
is the hope of the Empire.”
“So I might for you, his father, O Inca.”
“Aye, I know it, but what would that avail you while the Prince sits
safe at Cuzco ready to assume the Fringe? Also I am old and care not
when or how I die, whose work is done. Moreover, few would desire to
anger the gods by the murder of an aged guest, and therefore I visit
you sitting here in the midst of your armies with but a handful of
followers, trusting to your honour and to my father the Sun to protect
me. Now answer me--will you give the hand of your daughter to my son and
thereby make alliance with me, or will you wage war upon my empire and
be destroyed, you and your people together?”
Here Upanqui, who hitherto had been listening in silence to the words of
Larico, spoken on his behalf, broke in, saying:
“Yes, yes, that is right, only make him understand that the Inca will be
his over-lord, since the Inca can have no rivals in all the land.”
“My answer is,” said Huaracha, “that I will give my daughter in marriage
as I have promised, but that the Chancas are a free people and accept no
over-lord.”
“Foolishness, foolishness!” said Upanqui. “As well might the tree say
that it would not bend before the wind. However, you can settle that
matter afterwards with Urco, and indeed with your daughter, who will be
his queen and is your heiress, for I understand you have no other lawful
child. Why talk of war and other troubles when thus your kingdom falls
to us by marriage? Now let me see this lady Quilla who is to become my
daughter.”
Huaracha, who had listened to all this babble with a stern set face,
turned to Quilla and made a sign. She descended from her chair and
advancing, stood before the Inca, a vision of splendour and of beauty,
and bowed to him. He stared at her awhile, as did all his company, then
said:
“So you are the lady Quilla. A fair woman, a very fair woman, and a
proud, one who ought to be able to lead Urco aright if any one can. Well
named, too, after the moon, for the moonlight seems to shine in your
eyes, Lady Quilla. Indeed and indeed were I but a score of years younger
I should tell Urco to seek another queen and keep you for myself.”
Then Quilla spoke for the first time, saying:
“Be it as you will, O Inca. I am promised in marriage to the Child of
the Sun and which child is nothing to me.”
“Well said, Lady Quilla, and why should I wonder? Though I grow old they
tell me that I am still handsome, a great deal better looking than Urco,
in fact, who is a rough man and of a coarser type. You ask my wives when
you come to Cuzco; one of them told me the other day that there was no
one so handsome in the whole city, and earned a beautiful present
for her pretty speech. What is it you say, Larico? Why are you always
interfering with me? Well, perhaps you are right, and, Lady Quilla, if
you are ready, it is time to start. No, no, I thank you, Curaca, but I
will not stop for any feasting who desire to be back at my camp before
dark, since who knows what may happen to one in the dark in a strange
country?”
Then at last Huaracha grew angry.
“Be it as you will, O Inca,” he said, “but know that you offer me a
threefold insult. First you refuse the feast that has been made ready
for you whereat you were to meet all the notables of my kingdom.
Secondly, you give me, who am a king, the title of a petty chief who
owns your rule. Thirdly, you throw doubts upon my honour, hinting that I
may cause you to be murdered in the dark. Now I am minded to say to
you, ‘Begone from my poor country, Lord Inca, in safety, but leave my
daughter behind you.’”
Now at these words, I, Hubert, saw the fires of hope burn up in the
large eyes of Quilla, as they did in my own heart, for might they not
mean that she would escape from Urco after all? But, alas, they were
extinguished like a brand that is dipped in water.
“Tush, tush!” said the old dotard, “what a fire-eater are you, friend
Huaracha. Know that I never care to eat, except at night; also that the
chill of the air after my father the Sun has set makes my bones ache,
and as for titles--take any one you like, except that of Inca.”
“Mayhap that is the one I shall take before all is done,” broke in the
furious Huaracha, who would not be quieted by the councillors whispering
in his ears.
It was at this moment that the minister and high-priest, Larico, who had
been noting all that passed with an impassive face, said coldly:
“Be not wroth, O King Huaracha, and lay not too much weight upon the
idle words of the glorious Inca, since even the gods will doze at times
when they are weighed down by the cares of empire. No affront was meant
to you and least of all does the Inca or any one of us, dream that you
would tarnish your honour by offering violence to your guests by day
or by night. Yet know this, that if, after all that has been sworn, you
withhold your daughter, the lady Quilla, from the house of Urco who is
her lord to be, it will breed instant war, since as soon as word of it
comes to Cuzco, which will be within twenty hours, for messengers wait
all along the road, the great armies of the Inca that are gathered there
will begin to move. Judge, then, if you have the strength to withstand
them, and choose whether you will live on in glory and honour, or
bring yourself to death and your people to slavery. Now, King Huaracha,
speaking on behalf of Urco, who within some few moons will be Inca, I
ask you--will you suffer the lady Quilla to journey with us to Cuzco
and thereby proclaim peace between our peoples or will you keep her here
against your oath and hers, and thereby declare war?”
Huaracha sat silent, lost in thought, and the old Inca Upanqui began to
babble again, saying:
“Very well put, I could not have said it better myself; indeed, I did
say it, for this coxcomb of a Larico, who thinks himself so clever
just because I made him high-priest of the Sun under me and he is of my
blood, is after all nothing but the tongue in my mouth. You don’t really
want to die, Huaracha, do you, after seeing most of your people killed
and your country wasted? For you know that is what must happen. If you
do not send your daughter as you promised, within a few hours a hundred
thousand men will be marching on you and another hundred thousand
gathering behind them. Anyhow, please make up your mind one way or
another, as I wish to leave this place.”
Huaracha thought on awhile. Then he descended from his throne and
beckoned to Quilla. She came and he led her towards the back part of
the pavilion behind and a little to the left of the chair on which I sat
where none could hear their talk save me, of whom he seemed to take no
note, perhaps because he had forgotten me, or perhaps because he desired
that I should know all.
“Daughter,” he said in a low voice, “what word? Before you answer
remember that if I refuse to send you, now for the first time I break my
oath.”
“Of such oaths I think little,” answered Quilla. “Yet of another thing I
think much. Tell me, my father, if the Inca declares war and attacks us,
can we withstand his armies?”
“No, Daughter, not until the Yuncas join us for we lack sufficient
men. Moreover, we are not ready, nor shall be for another two moons, or
more.”
“Then it stands thus, Father. If I do not go the war will begin, and
if I do go it seems that it will be staved off until you are ready, or
perhaps for always, because I shall be the peace-offering and it will be
thought that I, your heiress, take your kingdom as my marriage portion
to be joined to that of the Incas at your death. Is it thus?”
“It is, Quilla. Only then you will work to bring it about that the Land
of the Incas shall be joined to the Land of the Chancas, and not that of
the Chancas to that of the Incas, so that in a day to come as Queen of
the Chancas you shall reign over both of them and your children after
you.”
Now I, Hubert, watching Quilla out of the corners of my eyes, saw her
turn pale and tremble.
“Speak not to me of children,” she said, “for I think that there will be
none, and talk not of future glories, since for these I care nothing. It
is for our people that I care. You swear to me that if I do not go your
armies will be defeated and that those who escape the spear will be
enslaved?”
“Aye, I swear it by the Moon your mother, also that I will die with my
soldiers.”
“Yet if I go I leave behind me that which I love,” here she glanced
towards me, “and give myself to shame, which is worse than death. Is
that your desire, my father?”
“That is not my desire. Remember, Daughter, that you were party to this
plan, aye, that it sprang from your far-seeing mind. Still, now that
your heart has changed, I would not hold you to your bargain, who desire
most of all things to see you happy at my side. Choose, therefore, and I
obey. On your head be it.”
“What shall I say, O Lord, whom I saved from the sea?” asked Quilla in a
piercing whisper, but without turning her head towards me.
Now an agony took hold of me for I knew that what I bade her, that she
would say, and that perchance upon my answer hung the fate of all this
great Chanca people. If she went they would be saved, if she remained
perchance she would be my wife if only for a while. For the Chancas I
cared nothing and for the Quichuas I cared nothing, but Quilla was all
that remained to me in the world and if she went, it was to another man.
I would bid her bide. And yet--and yet if her case were mine and the
fate of England hung upon my breath, what then?
“Be swift,” she whispered again.
Then I spoke, or something spoke through me, saying:
“Do what honour bids you, O Daughter of the Moon, for what is love
without honour? Perchance both shall still be yours at last.”
“I thank you, Lord, whose heart speaks as my heart,” she whispered for
the third time, then lifting her head and looking Huaracha in the eyes,
said:
“Father, I go, but that I will wed this Urco I do not promise.”