THE GREAT HORROR
The day of the new moon came and with it the great horror that caused
all the Empire of Tavantinsuyu to tremble, fearing lest Heaven should be
avenged upon it.
Since Upanqui had found his elder son again he began to dote upon him,
as in such a case the old and weak-minded often do, and would walk about
the gardens and palaces with his arm around his neck babbling to him
of whatever was uppermost in his mind. Moreover, his soul was oppressed
because he had done Kari wrong in the past, and preferred Urco to him
under the urging of that prince’s mother.
“The truth is, Son,” I myself heard him say to Kari, “that we men who
seem to rule the world do not rule it at all, because always women rule
us. This they do through our passions which the gods planted in us for
their own ends, also because they are more single in their minds. The
man thinks of many things, the woman only thinks of what she desires.
Therefore the man whom Nature already has bemused, only brings a little
piece of his mind to fight against her whole mind, and so is conquered;
he who was made for one thing only, to be the mate of the woman that she
may mother more men in order to serve the wills of other women who yet
seem to be those men’s slaves.”
“So I have learned, Father,” answered the grave Kari, “and for this
reason having suffered in the past, I am determined to have as little to
do with women as is possible for one in my place. During my travels in
other lands, as in this country, I have seen men great and noble brought
to nothingness and ruin by their love for women; down into the dirt,
indeed, when their hands were full of the world’s wealth and glory.
Moreover, I have noticed that they seldom learn wisdom, and that what
they have done before, they are ready to do again, who believe anything
that soft lips swear to them. Yes, even that they are loved for
themselves alone, as I own to my sorrow, once I did myself. Urco could
not have taken that fair wife of mine, Father, if she had not been
willing to go when she saw that I had lost your favour and with it the
hope of the Scarlet Fringe.”
Here Kari looked at me, of whom I knew he was thinking all this time,
and seeing that I could overhear his talk, began to speak of something
else.
On the appointed day there was a great gathering of the nobles of
the land, especially of those of the Inca blood, and of all that were
“earmen,” a class of the same rank as our peers in England, to hear
the proclamation of Kari as the Inca’s heir. It was made before this
gorgeous company in the Great Temple of the Sun, which now I saw for the
first time.
It was a huge and most wondrous place well named the “House of Gold.”
For here everything was gold. On the western wall hung an image of the
Sun twenty feet or more across, an enormous graven plate of gold set
about with gems and having eyes and teeth of great emeralds. The roof,
too, and the walls were all panelled with gold, even the cornices and
column heads were of solid gold.
Opening out of this temple also were others dedicated to the Moon and
Stars, that of the Moon being clothed in silver, with her radiant face
shaped in silver fixed to the western wall. So it was with the temple of
the Stars, of the Lightnings and of the Rainbow, which perhaps with its
many colours that sprang from jewels, was the most dazzling of them all.
The sight of so much glory overwhelmed me, and it came into my mind that
if only it were known of in Europe, men would die by the ten thousand
on the chance that they might conquer this country and make its wealth
theirs. Yet here, save for these purposes of ornament and to be used as
offerings to the gods and Incas, it was of no account at all.
But in this temple of the Sun was a marvel greater than its gold. For on
either side of the carved likenesses of the sun, seated upon chairs of
gold, sat the dead Incas and their queens. Yes, clothed in their royal
robes and emblems, with the Fringe upon their brows, there they sat with
their heads bent forward, so wonderfully preserved by the arts these
people have, that except for the stamp of death upon their countenances,
they might have been sleeping men and women. Thus in the dead face
of the mother of Kari I could read her likeness to her son. Of these
departed kings and queens there were many, since from the first Inca of
whom history told all were gathered here in the holy House and under
the guardianship of the effigy of their god, the Sun, from whom they
believed themselves to be descended. The sight was so solemn that it
awed me, as it did all that congregation, for I noted that here men
walked with unsandalled feet and that in speaking none raised their
voices high.
The old Inca, Upanqui, entered, gloriously apparelled and accompanied by
lords and priests, while after him came Kari with his retinue of great
men. The Inca bowed to the company whereon everyone in the great temple,
save myself alone whose British pride kept me on my feet, standing like
one left living on a battlefield among a multitude of slain, prostrated
himself before his divine majesty. At a sign they rose again and the
Inca seated himself upon his jewelled golden throne beneath the effigy
of the Sun, while Kari took his place upon a lesser throne to the Inca’s
right.
Looking at him there in his splendour on this day when he came into his
own again, I bethought me of the wretched, starving Indian marked with
blows and foul with filth whom I had rescued from the cruel mob upon the
Thames-side wharf, and wondered at this enormous change of fortune and
the chain of wonderful events by which it had been brought about.
My fortune also had changed, for then I was great in my own fashion, who
now had become but a wanderer, welcomed indeed in this glittering
new world of which yonder we knew nothing, because I was strange and
different, also full of unheard-of learning and skilled in war, but
still nothing but an outcast wanderer, and so doomed to live and die.
And as I thought, so thought Kari, for our glances met, and I read it in
his eyes.
Yonder sat my servant who had become my lord, and though he was still my
friend, soon I felt he would be lost in the state matters of that great
empire, leaving me more lonely than before. Also his mind was not as
my mind, as his blood was not my blood, and he was the slave of a faith
that to me was a hateful superstition doubtless begotten by the Devil,
who under the name of _Cupay_, some worshipped in that land, though
others declared that this _Cupay_ was the God of the Dead.
Oh! that I could flee away with Quilla and at her side live out what was
left to me of life, since of all these multitudes she alone understood
and was akin to me, because the sacred fire of love had burned away our
differences and opened her eyes. But Quilla was snatched from me by the
law of their accursed faith, and whatever else Kari might give, he would
never give me this lady of the Moon, since, as he had said, to him this
would be sacrilege.
The ceremonies began. First Larico, the high-priest of the Sun, clothed
in his white sacerdotal robes, made sacrifice upon a little altar which
stood in front of the Inca’s throne.
It was a very simple sacrifice of fruit and corn and flowers, with what
seemed to be strange-shaped pieces of gold. At least I saw nothing else,
and am sure that nothing that had life was laid upon that altar after
the fashion of the bloody offerings of the Jews, and indeed of those of
some of the other peoples of that great land.
Prayers, however, were spoken, very fine prayers and pure so far as I
could understand them, for their language was more ancient and somewhat
different to that which was used in common speech; also the priests
moved about, bowing and bending the knees much as our own do in
celebrating the mass, though whether these motions were in honour of the
god or of the Inca, I am not sure.
When the sacrifice was over, and the little fire that burned upon the
altar had sunk low, though I was told that for hundreds of years it had
never been extinguished, suddenly the Inca began to speak. With many
particulars that I had not heard before he told the tale of Kari and
of his estrangement from him in past years through the plottings of the
mother of Urco who now was dead, like the mother of Kari. This woman,
it would appear, had persuaded him, the Inca, that Kari was conspiring
against him, and therefore Urco was ordered to take him prisoner, but
returned only with Kari’s wife, saying that Kari had killed himself.
Here Upanqui became overcome with emotion as the aged are apt to do,
and beat his breast, even shedding tears because most unjustly he had
allowed these things to happen and the wicked triumph over the good,
for which sin he said he felt sure his father the Sun would bring some
punishment on him, as indeed was to chance sooner than he thought. Then
he continued his story, setting out all Urco’s iniquities and sacrileges
against the gods, also his murders of people of high and low degree and
his stealing of their wives and daughters. Lastly he told of the coming
of Kari who was supposed to be dead, and all that story which I have set
out.
Having finished his tale, with much solemn ceremonial he deposed Urco
from his heirship to the Empire which he gave back to Kari to whom it
belonged by right of birth and calling upon his dead forefathers, one by
one, to be witness to the act, with great formality once more he bound
the Prince’s Fringe about his brow. As he did this, he said these words:
“Soon, O Prince Kari, you must change this yellow circlet for that which
I wear, and take with it all the burden of empire, for know that as
quickly as may be I purpose to withdraw to my palace at Yucay, there to
make my peace with God before I am called hence to dwell in the Mansions
of the Sun.”
When he had finished Kari did homage to his father, and in that quiet,
even voice of his, told his tale of the wrongs that he had suffered
at the hands of Urco his brother and of how he had escaped, living but
maddened, from his hate. He told also how he had wandered across the
sea, though of England he said nothing, and been saved from misery and
death by myself, a very great person in my own country. Still, since I
had suffered wrong there, as he, Kari, had in his, he had persuaded me
to accompany him back to his own land, that there my wisdom might shine
upon its darkness, and owing to my divine and magical gifts hither we
had come in safety. Lastly, he asked the assembled priests and lords if
they were content to accept him as the Inca to be, and to stand by him
in any war that Urco might wage against him.
To this they answered that they were content and would stand by him.
Then followed many other rites such as the informing of the dead
Incas, one by one, of this solemn declaration, through the mouth of the
high-priest, and the offering of many prayers to them and to the Sun
their father. So long were these prayers with the chants from choirs
hidden in side chapels by which they were interspersed, that the day
drew towards its close before all was done.
Thus it came about that the dusk was gathering when the Inca, followed
by Kari, myself, the priests, and all the congregation, left the temple
to present Kari as the heir to the throne to the vast crowd which waited
upon the open square outside its doors.
Here the ceremony went on. The Inca and most of us, for there was not
space for all, although we were packed as closely together as Hastings
herrings in a basket, took our stand upon a platform that was surrounded
by a marvellous cable made of links of solid gold which, it was said,
needed fifty men to lift it from the ground. Then Upanqui, whose
strength seemed restored to him, perhaps because of some drug that he
had eaten, or under the spur of this great event, stepped forward to the
edge of the low platform and addressed the multitude in eloquent words,
setting out the matter as he had done in the temple. He ended his speech
by asking the formal question:
“Do you, Children of the Sun, accept the prince Kari, my first-born, to
be Inca after me?”
There was a roar of assent, and as it died away Upanqui turned to call
Kari to him that he might present him to the people.
At this very moment in the gathering twilight I saw a great fierce-faced
man with a bandaged head, whom I knew to be Urco, leap over the golden
chain. He sprang upon the platform and with a shout of “I do not accept
him, and thus I pay back treachery,” plunged a gleaming copper knife or
sword into the Inca’s breast.
In an instant, before any could stir in that packed crowd, Urco had
leapt back over the golden chain, and from the edge of the platform, to
vanish amongst those beneath, who doubtless were men of his following
disguised as citizens or peasants.
Indeed all who beheld seemed frozen with horror. One great sigh went up
and then there was silence, since no such deed as this was known in
the annals of that empire. For a moment the aged Upanqui stood upon his
feet, the blood pouring down his white beard and jewelled robe. Then he
turned a little and said in a clear and gentle voice:
“Kari, you will be Inca sooner than I thought. Receive me, O God my
Father, and pardon this murderer who, I think, can be no true son of
mine.”
Then he fell forward on his face and when we lifted him he was dead.
Still the silence hung; it was as though the tongues of men were smitten
with dumbness. At length Kari stepped forward and cried:
“The Inca is dead, but I, the Inca, live on to avenge him. I declare war
upon Urco the murderer and all who cling to Urco!”
Now the spell was lifted, and from those dim hordes there went up a yell
of hatred against Urco the butcher and parricide, while men rushed to
and fro searching for him. In vain! for he had escaped in the darkness.
On the following day, with more ceremonies, though many of these were
omitted because of the terror and trouble of the times, Kari was crowned
Inca, exchanging the yellow for the crimson Fringe and taking the throne
name of Upanqui after his father. In Cuzco there was none to say him nay
for the whole city was horror-struck because of the sacrilege that had
been committed. Also those who clung to Urco had fled away with him to
a town named Huarina on the borders of the great lake called Titicaca,
where was an island with marvellous temples full of gold, which town lay
at a distance from Cuzco.
Then the civil war began and raged for three whole months, though of
all that happened in that time because of the labour of it, I set down
little, who would get forward with my story.
In this war I played a great part. The fear of Kari was that the
Chancas, seeing the Inca realm thus rent in two, would once more attack
Cuzco. This it became my business to prevent. As the ambassador of Kari
I visited the camp of Huaracha, bearing offers of peace which gave to
him more than he could ever hope to win by strength of arms. I found the
old warrior-king still sick and wasted because of the hurt from Urco’s
club, though now he could walk upon crutches, and set out the case. He
answered that he had no wish to fight against Kari who had offered him
such honourable terms, especially when he was waging war against Urco
whom he, Huaracha, hated, because he had striven to poison his daughter
and dealt him a blow which he was sure would end in his death. Therefore
he was ready to make a firm peace with the new Inca, if in addition to
what he offered he would surrender to him Quilla who was his heiress and
would be Queen of the Chancas after him.
With these words I went back to Kari, only to find that on this matter
he was hard as a rock of the mountains. In vain did I plead with him,
and in vain did the high-priest, Larico, by subtle hints and arguments,
strive to gentle his mind.
“My brother,” said Kari in that soft even voice of his, when he had
heard me patiently to the end, “forgive me if I tell you that in
advancing this prayer, for one word you say on behalf of King Huaracha,
you say two for yourself, who having unhappily been bewitched by her,
desire this Virgin of the Sun, the lady Quilla, to be your wife. My
brother, take everything else that I have to give, but leave this lady
alone. If I handed her over to Huaracha or to you, as I have told you
before, I should bring upon myself and upon my people the curse of my
father the Sun, and of Pachacamac, the Spirit who is above the Sun. It
was because Upanqui, my father according to the flesh, dared to look
upon her after she had entered the House of the Sun, as I have learned
he did, that a bloody and a cruel death came upon him, for so the
magicians and the wise men have assured me that the oracles declare.
Therefore, rather than do this crime of crimes, I would choose that
Huaracha should renew the war against us and that you should join
yourself to him, or even to Urco, and strive to tear me from the Throne,
for then even if I were slain, I should die with honour.”
“That I could never do,” I answered sadly.
“No, my brother Hubert (for now he called me by my English name again),
that you could never do, being what you are, as I know well. So like the
rest of us you must bear your burden. Mayhap it may please my gods, or
your gods in the end, and in some way that I cannot foresee, to give you
this woman whom you seek. But of my free will I will never give her to
you. To me the deed would be as though in your land of England the King
commanded the consecrated bread and cups of wine to be snatched from the
hands of the priests of your temples and cast to the dogs, or given to
cheer the infidels within your gates, or dragged away the nuns from your
convents to become their lemans. What would you think of such a king
in your own country? And what,” he added with meaning, “would you have
thought of me if there I had stolen one of these nuns because she was
beautiful and I desired her as a wife?”
Now although Kari’s words stung me because of the truth that was in
them, I answered that to me this matter wore another face. Also that
Quilla had become a Virgin of the Sun, not of her own free will, but to
escape from Urco.
“Yes, my brother,” he answered, “because you believe my religion to be
idolatry, and do not understand that the Sun to me is the symbol and
garment of God, and that when we of the Inca blood, or those of us who
have the inner knowledge, talk of him as our Father, we mean that we are
the children of God, though the common people are taught otherwise. For
the rest, this lady took her vows of her own free will and of her secret
reasons I know nothing, any more than I know why she offered herself in
marriage to Urco before she found you upon the island. For you I grieve,
and for her also; yet I would have you remember that, as your own
priests teach, in every life that is not brutal there must be loss,
sorrow, and sacrifice, since by these steps only man can climb towards
the things of the spirit. Pluck then such flowers as you will from the
garden that Fate gives you, but leave this one white bloom alone.”
In such words as these he preached at me, till at length I could bear no
more, and said roughly:
“To me it is a very evil thing, O Inca, to separate those who love each
other, and one that cannot be pleasing to Heaven. Therefore, great as
you are, and friend of mine as you are, I tell you to your face that if
I can take the lady Quilla out of that golden grave of hers I shall do
so.”
“I know it, my brother,” he answered, “and therefore, were I as some
Incas have been, I should cause this holy Spouse to travel more quickly
to the skies than Nature will take her. But this I will not do because
I know also that Destiny is above all things and that which Destiny
decrees will happen unhelped by man. Still I tell you that I will thwart
you if I can and that should you succeed in your ends, I will kill you
if I can and the lady also, because you have committed sacrilege. Yes,
although I love you better than any other man, I will kill you. And if
King Huaracha should be able to snatch her away by force I will make war
on him until either I and my people or he and his people are destroyed.
And now let us talk no more of this matter, but rather of our plans
against Urco, since in these at least, where no woman is concerned, I
know that you will be faithful to me and I sorely need your help.”
So with a heavy heart I went back to the camp of Huaracha and told him
Kari’s words. He was very wroth when he heard them, since his gods were
different to those of the Incas and he thought nothing of the holiness
of the Virgins of the Sun, and once again talked of renewing the war.
Still it came to nothing for sundry reasons of which the greatest was
that his sickness increased on him as the days went by. Also I told him
that much as I desired Quilla, I could not fight upon his side since
I was sworn to aid Kari against Urco and my word might not be broken.
Moreover, the Yuncas who had been our allies, wearying of their long
absence from home and satisfied with the gentle forgiveness and the
redress of their grievances which the new Inca had promised them, were
gone, having departed on their long march to the coast, while many
of the Chancas themselves were slipping back to their own country.
Therefore Huaracha’s hour had passed by.
So at length we agreed that it would be foolish to attack Cuzco in
order to try to rescue Quilla, since even if Huaracha won in face of a
desperate defence, probably it would be only to find that his daughter
was dead or had vanished away to some unknown and distant convent. All
that we could do was to trust to fortune to deliver her into our hands.
We agreed further that, having obtained an honourable peace and all
else that he desired, it would be well for Huaracha to return to his own
land, leaving me a body of five thousand picked men who were willing to
serve under me, to assist in the war against Urco, to be my guard and
that of Quilla, if perchance I could deliver her from the House of the
Sun.
When this was known five thousand of the best and bravest of the
Chancas, young soldiers who sought adventure and battle and whom I had
trained, stepped forward at once and swore themselves to my service.
Bidding farewell to Huaracha, with these troops I returned to Cuzco,
sending messengers ahead to explain the reason of their coming to Kari,
who welcomed them well and gave them quarters round the palace which was
allotted to me.
A few days later we advanced on the town Huarina, a great host of us,
and outside of it met the yet greater host of Urco in a mighty battle
that endured for a day and a night, and yet, like that of the Field of
Blood, remained neither lost nor won. When the thousands of the dead had
been buried and the wounded sent back to Cuzco, we attacked the city
of Huarina, I leading the van with my Chancas, and stormed the place,
driving Urco and his forces out on the farther side.
They retreated to the mountains and there followed a long and tedious
war without great battles. At length, although the Inca’s armies had
suffered sorely, we forced those of Urco to the shores of the Lake
Titicaca, where most of them melted away into the swamps and certain
tree-clad, low-lying valleys. Urco himself, however, with a number of
followers, escaped in boats to the holy island in the lake.
We built a fleet of _balsas_ with reeds and blown-out sheepskins, and
followed him. Landing on the isle we stormed the city of temples which
were more wondrous and even fuller of gold and precious things than
those of Cuzco. Here the men of Urco fought desperately, but driving
them from street to street, at length we penned them in one of the
largest of the temples of which by some mischance a reed roof was set
on fire, so that there they perished miserably. It was a dreadful scene
such as I never wish to behold again. Also, after all Urco and some
of his captains, breaking out of the burning temple under cover of the
smoke escaped, either in _balsas_ or, as many declare, by swimming the
lake. At least they were gone nor search as we might on the mainland
could they be found.
So all being finished, except for the escape of Urco, we returned to
Cuzco which Kari entered in triumph, I marching at his side, wearied out
with war and bloodshed.