THE FIELD OF BLOOD
When on the morrow Huaracha, King of the Chancas, heard all this story
and that Urco had given poison to his daughter Quilla, who, if she still
lived at all, did so, it was said, as a blind woman, a kind of madness
took hold of him.
“Now let war come; I will not rest or stay,” he cried, “till I see
this hound, Urco, dead, and hang up his skin stuffed with straw as an
offering to his own god, the Sun.”
“Yet it was you, King Huaracha, who sent the lady Quilla to this Urco
for your own purposes,” said Kari in his quiet fashion.
“Who and what are you that reprove me?” asked Huaracha turning on him.
“I only know you as the servant or slave of the White-Lord-from-the-Sea,
though it is true I have heard stories concerning you,” he added.
“I am Kari, the first-born lawful son of Upanqui and by right heir to
the Inca throne, no less, O Huaracha. Urco my brother robbed me of my
wife, as through the folly of my father, upon whose heart Urco’s mother
worked, he had already robbed me of my inheritance. Then, to make sure,
he strove to poison me as he has poisoned your daughter, with a
poison that would make me mad and incapable of rule, yet leave me
living--because he feared lest the curse of the Sun should fall upon
him if he murdered me. I recovered from that bane and wandered to a far
land. Now I have returned to take my own, if I am able. All that I say I
can prove to you.”
For a while Huaracha stared at him astonished, then said:
“And if you prove it, what do you ask of me, O Kari?”
“The help of your armies to enable me to overthrow Urco, who is very
strong, being the Commander of the Quichua hosts.”
“And if your tale be true and Urco is overthrown, what do you promise me
in return?”
“The independence of the Chanca people, who otherwise must soon be
destroyed, and certain other added territories which you covet, while I
am Inca.”
“And with this my daughter, if she still lives?” asked Huaracha looking
at him.
“Nay,” replied Kari firmly. “As to the lady Quilla I promise nothing.
She has vowed herself to my Father the Sun, and what I have already told
the Lord Hurachi here, who loves her I tell you. Henceforward no man
may look upon her, who is the Bride of the Sun, for if I suffered this,
certainly the curse of the Sun would fall upon me and upon my people.
He who lays a hand upon her I will strive to slay”--here he looked at me
with meaning--“because I must or be accurst. Take all else, but let the
lady Quilla be. What the Sun has, he holds forever.”
“Perhaps the Moon, her mother, may have something to say in that
matter,” said Huaracha gloomily. “Still, let it lie for the while.”
Then they fell to discussing the terms of their alliance and, when it
came to battle, what help Kari could bring from among those who clung to
him in Cuzco.
After this Huaracha took me to another chamber, where we debated the
business.
“This Kari, if he be Kari himself, is a bigot,” he said, “and if he has
his way, neither you nor I will ever set eyes on Quilla again, because
to him it is sacrilege. So, what say you?”
I answered that it would be best to make an alliance with Kari, whom
I knew to be honest and no Pretender, since without his help I did not
think that it would be possible to defeat the armies of the People of
the Incas. For the rest, we must trust to chance, making no promises as
to Quilla.
“If we did they would avail little,” said Huaracha, “seeing that without
doubt she is dead and only vengeance remains to us. There is more poison
in Cuzco, White Lord!”
Eight days later we were marching on Cuzco, a great host of us,
numbering at least forty thousand Chancas and twenty-five thousand of
the rebellious Yuncas, who had joined our standard.
On we marched by the great road over mountains and across plains,
driving with us numberless herds of the native sheep for food, but
meeting no man, since so soon as we were out of the territory of the
Chancas all fled at our approach. At length one night we camped upon a
hill named Carmenca and saw beneath us at a distance the mighty city of
Cuzco standing in a valley through which a river ran. There it was with
its huge fortresses built of great blocks of stone, its temples, its
palaces, its open squares, and its countless streets bordered by low
houses. Moreover, beyond and around it we saw other things, namely, the
camps of a vast army dotted with thousands of white tents.
“Urco is ready for us,” said Kari to me grimly as he pointed to these
tents.
We camped upon the hill Carmenca and that night there came to us an
embassy which spoke in the names of Upanqui and Urco, as though they
reigned jointly. This embassy of great lords who all wore discs of
gold in their ears asked us what was our purpose. Huaracha answered--to
avenge the murder of the lady Quilla, his daughter, that he heard had
been poisoned by Urco.
“How know you that she is dead?” asked the spokesman.
“If she is not dead,” replied Huaracha, “show her to us.”
“That may not be,” replied the spokesman, “since if she lives, it is in
the House of the Virgins of the Sun, whence none come out and where none
go in. Hearken, O Huaracha. Go back whence you came, or the countless
army of the Incas will fall upon you and destroy you, you and your
handful together.”
“That is yet to be seen,” answered Huaracha, and without more words the
embassy withdrew.
That night also men crept into our camp secretly, who were of the party
of Kari. Of Quilla they seemed to know nothing, for none spoke of those
over whom the veil of the Sun had fallen. They told us, however, that
the old Inca, Upanqui, was still in Cuzco and had recovered somewhat
from his sickness. Also they said that now the feud between him and Urco
was bitter, but that Urco had the upper hand and was still in command of
the armies. These armies, they declared, were immense and would fight us
on the morrow, adding, however, that certain regiments of them who were
of the party of Kari would desert to us in the battle. Lastly, they
said that there was great fear in Cuzco, since none knew how that battle
would end, which was understood by all to be one for the dominion of
Tavantinsuyu.
They had nothing more to say except that they prayed the Sun for our
success to save them from the tyranny of Urco. This prince, it appeared,
suspected their conspiracy, for now the rumour that Kari lived was
everywhere, and having obtained the names of some who were connected
with it through his spies, he pursued them with murder and sudden death.
They were poisoned at their food; they were stabbed as they walked
through the streets at night; their wives, if young and fair, vanished
away, as they believed into the houses of those who desired them; even
their children were kidnapped, doubtless to become the servants of
whom they knew not. They had complained of these things to the old
Inca Upanqui, but without avail, since in such matters he was powerless
before Urco who had command of the armies. Therefore they would even
welcome the triumph of Huaracha, which meant that Kari would become Inca
if with lessened territory.
Before they parted to play their parts, Kari brought them before me,
whom in their foolishness they worshipped, believing me to be in truth a
god. Then he told them to have no fear, since I would command the armies
of Huaracha in the battle.
Having surveyed the ground while the light lasted, for the most of that
night, together with Huaracha and Kari, I toiled, making plans for
the great fight that was to come. All being ready, I lay down to sleep
awhile, wondering whether it were the last time I should do so upon the
earth and, to tell the truth, not caring overmuch who, believing that
Quilla was dead, had it not been for my sins which weighed upon me with
none to whom I might confess them, should have been glad to leave the
world and its troubles for whatever might lie beyond, even if it were
but sleep.
There comes a time to most men when above everything they desire rest,
and now that hour was with me, the exiled and the desolate. Here in this
strange country and among these alien people I had found one soul which
was akin to mine, that of a beautiful woman who loved me and whom I
had come to love and desire. But what was the end of it? Owing to the
necessities of statecraft and her own nobleness, she had been separated
from me and although, as it would seem, she had as yet escaped
defilement, was spirited away into the temple of some barbarous worship
where I was almost sure death had found her.
At the best she was blinded, and where she lay in her darkness no man
might come because of the superstitions of these folk. Even if Kari
became Inca, it would not help me or her, should she still live, since
he was the fiercest bigot of them all and swore that he would kill me,
his friend, rather than that I should touch her, the vowed to his false
gods.
Or perhaps, through the priests, to save himself such sorrow, he
would kill her. At the least, dead or not, she was lost to me, while
I--utterly alone--must fight for a cause in which I had but one concern,
to bring some savage prince to his end because of his crime against
Quilla. And, if things went well and this chanced, what of the Future?
Of what use to me were rewards that I did not want, and the worship of
the vulgar which I hated? Rather would I have lived out my life as the
humblest fisherman on Hastings beach, than be made a king over these
glittering barbarians with their gold and gems which could buy nothing
that I needed, not even a Book of Hours to feed my soul, or the sound of
the English tongue to comfort my empty heart.
At length I fell asleep, and as it seemed but a few minutes later,
though really six hours had gone by, was awakened by Kari, who told
me that the dawn was not far off and came to help me to buckle on my
armour. Then I went forth and together with Huaracha arranged our army
for battle. Our plan was to advance from our rising ground across a
great plain beneath us which was called Xaqui, but afterwards became
known by the name of Yahuar-pampa, or Field of Blood.
This plain lay between us and the city of Cuzco, and my thought was that
we would march or fight our way across it and rush into the city which
was unwalled, and there amidst its streets and houses await the attack
of the Inca hosts that were encamped upon its farther side, for thus
protected by their walls we hoped that we should be more equal to them.
Yet things happened otherwise, since with the first light, without which
we did not dare to move over unknown ground, we perceived that during
the darkness the Inca armies had moved round and through the town and
were gathered by the ten thousand in dense battalions upon the farther
side of the plain.
Now we took council together and in the end decided not to attack as we
had proposed, but to await their onslaught on the rocky ridge up which
they must climb. So we commanded that our army, which was marshalled
in three divisions abreast and two wings with the Yuncas as a reserve
behind, should eat and make ready. In the centre of our main division,
which numbered some fifteen thousand of the Chanca troops, and a little
in front of it, was a low long hill upon the highest point of which
I took my place, standing upon a rock with a group of captains and
messengers behind me and a guard of about a thousand picked men massed
upon the slopes and around the hill. From this high point I could see
everything, and in my glittering armour was visible to all, friends and
foes together.
After a pause, during which the priests of the Chancas and of the Yuncas
behind us sacrificed sheep to the moon and the many other gods they
worshipped, and those of the Quichuas, as I could see from my rock, made
prayers and offerings to the rising sun, with a mighty shouting the Inca
hosts began to advance across the plain towards us. Reckoning them with
my eye I saw that they outnumbered us by two or three to one; indeed
their hordes seemed to be countless, and always more of them came on
behind from the dim recesses of the city. Divided into three great
armies they crept across the plain, a wild and gorgeous spectacle,
the sunlight shining upon the forest of their spears and on their rich
barbaric uniforms.
A furlong or more away they halted and took counsel, pointing to me with
their spears as though they feared me. We stood quite still, though
some of our generals urged that we should charge, but this I counselled
Huaracha not to do, who desired that the Quichuas should break their
strength upon us. At length some word was given; the splendid “rainbow
Banner” of the Incas was unfurled and, still divided into three armies
with a wide stretch of plain between each of them they attacked, yelling
like all the fiends of hell.
Now they had reached us and there began the most terrible battle that
was told of in the history of that land. Wave after wave of them rolled
up against us, but our battalions which I had not trained in vain stood
like rocks and slew and slew and slew till the dead could be counted by
the thousand. Again and again they strove to storm the hill on which I
stood, hoping to kill me, and each time we beat them back. Picking out
their generals I loosed shaft after shaft from my long bow, and seldom
did I miss, nor could their cotton-quilted armour turn those bitter
arrows.
“_The shafts of the god! The shafts of the god!_” they cried, and shrank
back from before me.
There appeared a man with a yellow fillet on his head and a robe that
was studded with precious stones; a huge man with great limbs and
flaming eyes; a loose-mouthed, hideous man who wielded a big axe of
copper and carried a bow longer than any I had seen in that land.
Hooking the axe to his belt, he set an arrow on the bow and let drive at
me. It sped true and struck me full upon the breast, only to shatter on
the good French mail, which copper could not pierce.
Again he shot, and this time the arrow glanced from my helm. Then I drew
on him and my shaft, that I had aimed at his head, cut away the fringe
about his brow and carried it far away. At this sight a groan went up
from the lords about him, and one cried:
“An omen, O Urco, an evil omen!”
“Aye,” he shouted, “for the White Wizard who shot the arrow.”
Dropping the bow, he rushed up the hill at me roaring, axe aloft, and
followed by his company. He smote, and I caught the blow upon my shield,
and striking back with Wave-Flame, shore through the shaft of the axe
that he had lifted to guard his head as though it had been made of reed,
aye, and through the quilted cotton on his shoulder strengthened with
strips of gold, and to the bone beneath.
Then a man slipped past me. It was Kari, striking at Urco with Deleroy’s
sword. They closed and rolled down the slope locked in each other’s
arms. What chanced after this I do not know, for others rushed in and
all grew confused, but presently Kari limped back somewhat shaken and
bleeding, and I caught sight of Urco, little hurt, as it seemed, amidst
his lords at the bottom of the slope.
At this moment I heard a great shouting and looking round, saw that the
Quichuas had broken through our left and were slaughtering many, while
the rest fled, also that our right was wavering. I sent messengers to
Huaracha, bidding him call up the Yunca rear guard. They were slow in
coming and I began to fear that all was lost for little by little the
hordes of the men of Cuzco were surrounding us.
Then it was that Kari, or some with him, lifted a banner that had been
wrapped upon a pole, a blue banner upon which was embroidered a
golden sun. At the sight of it there was tumult in the Inca ranks, and
presently a great body of men, five or six thousand of them that had
seemed to be in reserve, ran forward shouting, “_Kari! Kari!_” and fell
upon those who were pursuing our shattered left, breaking them up and
dispersing them. Also at last the Yuncas came up and drove back the
regiments that assailed our right, while from Urco’s armies there rose a
cry of “Treachery!”
Trumpets blew and the Inca host, gathering itself together and
abandoning its dead and wounded, drew back sullenly on to the plain, and
there halted in three bodies as before, though much lessened in number.
Huaracha appeared, saying:
“Strike, White Lord! It is our hour! The heart is out of them.”
The signal was given, and roaring like a hurricane, presently the
Chancas charged. Down the slope they went, I at the head of them with
Huaracha on one side and Kari on the other. The swift-footed Chancas
outran me who was hindered by my mail. We charged in three masses as we
had stood on the ridge, following those open lanes of ground up which
the foe had not come, because these were less cumbered with dead and
wounded. Presently I saw why those of Cuzco had left these lanes untrod,
for of a sudden some warriors, who had outstripped me, vanished. They
had fallen into a pit covered over with earth laid upon canes, of which
the bottom was set with sharp stakes. Others, who were running along
the lanes of open ground to right and left, also fell into pits of which
there were scores all carefully prepared against the day of battle.
With trouble the Chancas were halted, but not before we had lost some
hundreds of men. Then we advanced again across that ground over which
the Inca host had retreated.
At length we reached their lines, passing through a storm of arrows, and
there began such a battle as I had never heard of or even dreamed. With
axes, stone-headed clubs and spears, both armies fought furiously,
and though the Incas still outnumbered us by two to one, because of my
training our regiments drove them back. Lord after lord rushed at me
with glaring eyes, but my mail turned their copper spears and knives
of flint. Oh! Wave-Flame fed full that day, and if Thorgrimmer my
forefather could have seen us from his home in Valhalla, surely he must
have sworn by Odin that never had he given it such a feast.
The Inca warriors grew afraid and shrank back.
“This Red-Beard from the sea is indeed a god. He cannot be slain!” I
heard them cry.
Then Urco appeared, bloody and furious, shouting:
“Cowards! I will show you whether he cannot be slain.”
He rushed onward to meet--not me, but Huaracha, who seeing that I was
weary, had leapt in front of me. They fought, and Huaracha went down and
was dragged away by some of his servants.
Now Urco and I were face to face, he wielding a huge copper-headed club
with which, as my mail could not be pierced, he thought to batter out
my life. I caught the blow upon my shield, but so great was the giant’s
strength that it brought me to my knees. Next second I was up and at
him. Shouting, I smote with both hands, for my shield had fallen. The
thick, turban-like headdress that Urco wore was severed, cut through as
the axe had been, and Wave-Flame bit deep into the skull beneath.
Urco fell like a stunned ox and I sprang upon him to make an end. Then
it was that a rope was flung about my shoulders, a noosed rope that was
hauled tight. In vain I struggled. I was thrown down; I was seized by a
score of hands and dragged away into the heart of Urco’s host.
Waiting till a litter could be brought, they set me on my feet again, my
arms still bound by the noose that these Indians call _laso_, which they
know so well how to throw, the red sword Wave-Flame still hanging by its
thong from my right wrist. Whilst I stood thus, like a bull in a net,
they gathered round, staring at me, not with hate as it seemed to me,
but in fear and with reverence. When at length the litter came they
aided me to enter it quite gently.
As I did so I looked back. The battle still raged but it seemed to me
with less fury than before. It was as though both sides were weary of
slaughter, their leaders being fallen. The litter was borne forward,
till at length the noise of shouting and tumult grew low. Twisting
myself round I peered through the back curtains and saw that the Inca
host and that of the Chancas were separating sullenly, neither of them
broken since they carried their wounded away with them. It was plain
that the battle remained drawn for there was no rout and no triumph.
I saw, too, that I was entering the great city of Cuzco, where women
and children stood at the doors of the houses gazing, and some of them
wringing their hands with tears upon their faces.
Passing down long streets and across a bridge, I came to a vast square
round which stood mighty buildings, low, massive, and constructed of
huge stones. At the door of one of these the litter halted and I was
helped to descend. Men beautifully clad in broidered linen led me
through a gateway and across a garden where I noted a marvellous thing,
namely: that all the plants therein were fashioned of solid gold with
silver flowers, or sometimes of silver with golden flowers. Also there
were trees on which were perched birds of gold and silver. When I saw
this I thought that I must be mad, but it was not so, for having no
other use for the precious metals, of which they had so much abundance,
thus did these Incas adorn their palaces.
Leaving the golden garden, I reached a courtyard surrounded by rooms,
to one of which I was conducted. Passing its door, I found myself in a
splendid chamber hung with tapestries fantastically wrought and having
cushioned seats, and tables of rich woods incrusted with precious
stones. Here servants or slaves appeared with a chamberlain who bowed
deeply and welcomed me in the name of the Inca.
Then, as though I were something half divine, gently enough, they loosed
the sword from my wrist, took the long bow from my back, with the few
arrows that remained, also my dagger, and hid them away. They unbound
me, and freeing me from my armour, as I told them how, and the garments
beneath, laved me with warm, scented water, rubbed my bruised limbs, and
clothed me in wonderful soft garments, also scented and fastened about
my middle with a golden belt. This done, food and spiced drinks of their
native wine were brought to me in golden vessels. I ate and drank and,
being very weary, laid myself down upon one of the couches to sleep.
For now I no longer took any thought as to what might befall me, but
received all as it came, good and ill together, entrusting my body and
soul to the care of God and St. Hubert. Indeed, what else could I do who
was disarmed and a prisoner?
When I awoke again, very stiff and bruised, but much refreshed, night
had fallen, for hanging lamps were lit about the room. By their light
I saw the chamberlain of whom I have spoken standing before me. I asked
him his errand. With many bows he said that if I were rested the Inca
Upanqui desired my presence that he might speak with me.
I bade him lead on, and, with others who waited without, he conducted
me through a maze of passages into a glorious chamber where everything
seemed to be gold, for even the walls were panelled with it. Never had
I dreamt of so much gold; indeed the sight of it wearied me till I could
have welcomed that of humble brick or wood. At the end of this chamber
that was also lit with lamps, were curtains. Presently these were drawn
by two beautiful women in jewelled skirts and head-dresses, and behind
them on a dais I saw a couch and on the couch the old Inca Upanqui
looking feebler than when I had last beheld him in the Chanca city,
and very simply clad in a white tunic. Only on his head he wore the red
fringe from which I suppose he never parted day or night. He looked up
and said:
“Greeting, White-Lord-from-the-Sea. So you have come to visit me after
all, though you said that you would not.”
“I have been brought to visit you, Inca,” I answered.
“Yes, yes, they tell me they captured you in the battle, though I expect
that was by your own will as you had wearied of those Chancas. For what
_laso_ can hold a god?”
“None,” I answered boldly.
“Of course not, and that you are a kind of god there is no doubt because
of the things you did in that battle. They say that the arrows and
spears melted when they touched you and that you shot and cut down men
by scores. Also that when the prince Urco tried to kill you, although
he is the strongest man in my kingdom, you knocked him over as though
he had been a little child and hacked his head open so that they do not
know whether he will live or die. I think I hope he will die, for you
see I have quarrelled with him.”
I thought to myself that so did I, but I only asked:
“How did the battle end, Inca?”
“As it began, Lord Hurachi. A great many men have been killed on
both sides, thousands and thousands of them, and neither army has the
victory. They have drawn back and sit growling at each other like two
angry lions which are afraid to fight again. Indeed, I do not want them
to fight, and now that Urco cannot interfere, I shall put a stop to all
this bloodshed if I am able. Tell me, for you were with him, why does
this Huaracha, who I hear is also wounded, want to make war on me with
those troublesome Chancas of his?”
“Because your son, the prince Urco, has poisoned, or tried to poison,
his only child, Quilla.”
“Yes, yes, I know, and it was a wicked thing to do. You see, Lord, what
happened was this: That lovely Quilla, who is fairer than her mother the
Moon, was to have married Urco. But, Lord, as it chanced on our journey
together, although I am old--well, she became enamoured of me, and
prayed me to protect her from Urco. Such things happen to women, Lord,
whose hearts, when they behold the divine, are apt to carry them away
from the vulgar,” and he laughed in a silly fashion like the vain old
fool that he was.
“Naturally. How could she help it, Inca? Who, after seeing you, would
wish to turn to Urco?”
“No one, especially as Urco is a coarse and brutal fellow. Well, what
was I to do? There are reasons why I do not wish to marry again at my
age; indeed I am tired of the sight of women, who want time to pray and
think of holy things; also if I had done what she wished, some might
have thought that I had behaved badly to Urco. At the same time, a
woman’s heart is sacred and I could not do violence to that of one so
sweet and understanding and lovely. So I put her into the House of the
Virgins of the Sun where she will be quite safe.”
“It seems that she was not safe, Inca.”
“No, because that violent man, Urco, being disappointed and very
jealous, through some low creature of his, who waited on the Virgins,
tried to poison her with a drug which would have made her all swollen
and hideous and covered her face with blotches, also perhaps have sent
her mad. Luckily one of the matrons, whom we call _Mama-conas_, knocked
the cup away before she drank, but some of the horrible poison went into
her eyes and blinded her.”
“So she lives, Inca.”
“Certainly she lives. I have learnt that for myself, because in this
country it is not wise to trust what they tell you. You know as Inca I
have privileges, and although even I do not talk to them, I caused those
Virgins of the Sun to be led in front of me, which in strictness even
I ought not to have done. It was a dreary business, Lord Hurachi, for
though those Virgins may be so holy, some of them are very old and
hideous and of course Quilla as a novice came last in the line conducted
by two _Mama-conas_ who are cousins of my own. The odd thing is that the
poison seems to have made her much more beautiful than before, for her
eyes have grown bigger and are glorious, shining like stars seen when
there is frost. Well, there she is safe from Urco and every other man,
however wicked and impious. But what does this Huaracha want?”
“He wants his blinded daughter back, Inca.”
“Impossible, impossible! Who ever heard of such a thing! Why, Heaven and
Earth would come together and the Sun, my father, and her husband,
would burn us all up. Still, perhaps, we could come to an agreement for
Huaracha must have had enough fighting and very likely he will die.
Now I am tired of talking about the lady Quilla and I want to ask you
something.”
“Speak on, Inca.”
Suddenly the old dotard’s manner changed: he became quick and shrewd, as
doubtless he was in his prime, for this Upanqui had been a great king.
At the beginning of our talk the two women of whom I have spoken and the
chamberlain had withdrawn to the end of the chamber where they waited
with their hands folded, like those who adore before an altar. Still he
peered about him to make sure that none were within hearing, and in the
end beckoned to me to ascend the dais and sit upon the couch beside him,
saying:
“You see I trust you although you are a god from the sea who has been
fighting against me. Now hearken. You had a servant with you, a very
strange man, who is said also to have come out of the sea, though that I
cannot believe since he is like one of our princes. Where is that man?”
“With the army of Huaracha, Inca.”
“So I have heard. I heard also that in the battle he hoisted a banner
with the sun blazoned on it, and that thereon certain regiments of mine
deserted to Huaracha. Now, why did they do that?”
“I understand, O Inca, that the kings of this land have many children.
Perhaps he might be one of them.”
“Ah! You are clever as a god should be. Well, I am a god also and the
same thought has come to me, although as a fact I have only had two
legitimate sons and the others are of no account. The eldest of these
was an able and beautiful prince named Kari, but we quarrelled, and to
tell the truth there was a woman in the matter, or rather two women, for
Kari’s mother fought with Urco’s mother whom I loved, because she never
scolded me, which the other did. So Urco was named to be Inca after me.
Yet that was not enough for him who remained jealous of his brother Kari
who outpassed him in all things save strength of body. They wooed the
same beautiful woman and Kari won her, whereon Urco seduced her from
him, and afterwards he or someone killed her. At least she died, I
forget how. Then the lords of the Inca blood began to turn towards Kari
because he was royal and wise, which would have meant civil war when I
had been gathered to the Sun. Therefore Urco poisoned him, or so it was
rumoured; at any rate, he vanished away, and often since then I have
mourned him.”
“The dead come to life again sometimes, Inca.”
“Yes, yes, Lord-from-the-Sea, that happens; the gods who took them away
bring them back--and this servant of yours--they say he is so like
to Kari that he might be the same man grown older. And--why did those
regiments, all of them officered by men who used to love Kari, go over
to Huaracha to-day, and why do rumours run through the land like the
wind that springs up suddenly in fine weather? Tell me of this servant
of yours and how you found him in the sea.”
“Why should I tell you, Inca? Is it because you want to kill him who is
so like to this lost Kari of yours?”
“No, no--gods can keep each other’s counsel, can they not? It is because
I would give--oh! half my godship to know that he is alive. Hark you,
Urco wearies me so much that sometimes I wonder whether he really is my
son. Who can tell? There was a certain lord of the coastlands, a hairy
giant who, they said, could eat half a sheep at a sitting and break the
backs of men in his hands, of whom Urco’s mother used to think much.
But who can tell? No one except my father, the Sun, and he guards his
secrets--for the present. At least Urco wearies me with his coarse
crimes and his drunkenness, though the army loves him because he is a
butcher and liberal. We quarrelled the other day over the small matter
of this lady Quilla, and he threatened me till I grew wrath and said
that I would not hand him my crown as I had purposed to do. Yes, I
grew wrath and hated him for whose sake I had sinned because his mother
bewitched me. Lord-from-the-Sea,” here his voice dropped to a whisper,
“I am afraid of Urco. Even a god such as I am can be murdered,
Lord-from-the-Sea. That is why I will not go to Yucay, for there I might
die and none know it, whereas here I still am Inca and a god whom it is
sacrilege to touch.”
“I understand, but how can I help you, Inca, who am but a prisoner in
your palace?”
“No, no, you are only a prisoner in name. At the worst Urco will be
sick for a long while, since the physicians say that sword of yours has
bitten deep, and during that time all power is mine. Messengers are
at your service; you are free to come and go as you will. Bring this
servant of yours to my presence, for doubtless he trusts you. I would
speak with him, O Lord-from-the-Sea.”
“If I should do this, Inca, will the lady Quilla be given back to her
father?”
“Nay, it would be sacrilege. Ask what else you will, lands and rule and
palaces and wives--not that. Myself I should not dare to lay a finger
on her who rests in the arms of the Sun. What does it matter about this
Quilla who is but one fair woman among thousands?”
I thought awhile, then answered, “I think it matters much, Inca. Still,
that this bloodshed may be stayed, I will do my best to bring him who
was my servant to your presence if you can find me the means to come at
him, and afterwards we will talk again.”
“Yes, I am weary now. Afterwards we will talk again. Farewell,
Lord-from-the-Sea.”