CHAPTER VI.

IN THE CITY OF THE INCA

No reception could well have been more different from the anticipations of the adventurers than that which awaited them in the first of the cities of the Incas that they had so far seen, for the towns that they had passed through on their road up the western slopes of the mountains they had looked upon only as the outposts of an entrenched camp, a camp which to them was El-Dorado, and whose trenches and circumvallations were the gorges and heights of the mighty Andes themselves.

As has just been said, they entered the city in utter silence save for the blare of their own trumpets and the jingling of their own arms and accoutrements. They had already learnt from their guides that Cajamarca was the third city in importance in the whole Inca empire, standing as it did between Quito and Cuzco, and commanding the high-road running from north to south through the domains of Huayna-Capac.

It was in vain that they asked the Curaca or his subordinates for some explanation of their strange reception. There was not even an animal or a fowl left in the city. Only the wild birds flying to and fro amongst the trees which lined the squares of the city gave evidence of life within its borders. Not a house was tenanted, and every street and square was deserted, and yet this but a few hours before had been the home of many thousands of human beings. What had become of them? To all inquiries the Curaca and his officers answered in the same words--

“It is the will of our Lord, and in this land there is no other will but his. That which the Son of the Sun says is already done. The city is the home of his guests. It is ours to do our Lord’s will; it is his only to know the reason. He is the brain; we are the hands.”

And so, amidst an utter silence that at length even swallowed up the voices of their own trumpets, Pizarro and his men entered Cajamarca and took possession of the spacious quarters allotted to them by this mysterious master of men whose officers obeyed him with the unquestioning servility of dogs.

The quarters assigned to the Spaniards were at the north-western end of the irregular square which occupied the centre of the city. They were formed of low, one-storeyed buildings, massively built and containing rooms large enough for the accommodation of a score of men each, and, as there were far too many of them for the little force to occupy, some of them were for the time being turned into stables for the lodging of the eighty-five horses and eight mules which had survived the hardships of the journey.

But though the strangers had been, as it were, welcomed into an empty house, there was no lack of entertainment, and that, too, of a sort which awoke more appetites than one, for there was an abundance of roasted meats, baked cakes of maize-meal, boiled roots and vegetables and varied fruits which, once strange to them, they had now become accustomed to, all of which were brought to them in dishes and vessels of silver, and to Pizarro and his captains there was brought also the golden-yellow chicha, the royal drink of the Inca himself, in great goblets of chasened gold so massive and splendid that when they sat down to their first meal that midday Carvahal, after taking up a great golden bowl in both hands and quaffing a mighty draught of the pleasant liquor that it contained, set it down again on the table and brushed the clinging drops from his beard, and said with one of his big, chuckling laughs--

“Cuerpo de Cristo, Caballeros! what does this remind you of? Carramba! without any disrespect to your worshipful persons I should be inclined to liken the present scene to a banquet of the beggars of Seville enjoying the best hospitality served in the most sumptuous fashion that the Chamberlains of His Most Catholic Majesty could achieve.”

“A somewhat rude simile, Señor Carvahal,” said Hernando Pizarro in his dry, official voice, “and one that would scarce bear the test of logic. Surely thou art too stout a soldier of Spain to liken men who have the faith of God in their hearts, good plate of proof on their bodies, and good swords of Toledo steel by their sides, to beggars? Surely thou art confounding the worth of that which is to be won with the worth of that which is to win it?”

Carvahal had already opened his mouth to make some reply after his own fashion when the Captain-General, turning towards his brother, said--

“Thou hast there touched on a matter, Hernando, which should be discussed amongst us without loss of time. Carvahal, thou canst have thy jest hereafter shouldst thou find time to make it. Here and now there are other things to be talked of, for very grave matters claim our attention, and as true soldiers know no time so good as the present, it were better that we discussed them now. What say you, comrades?”

He paused and was answered by a silence in which every head was bowed in consent. Then, leaning his folded arms on the table, he went on to speak words which, as the event proved, decided the fate of an empire.

“We can speak here,” he said in his slow, grave tone, “with such confidence as we could on the beach of the island of Gallo or in the cabin of one of our own ships, for truly we are as lonely here in the midst of this strange land as we could be there. The safety of all depends upon the faith of each. Therefore, apart from all questions of loyalty to our king, the interest of each is the welfare of all. Let us, then, as behoves true men and adventurers embarked upon an enterprise as desperate as it is glorious, look the conditions of our situation fairly and fearlessly in the face so that we may at once make the best and know the worst of them.”

He paused again and looked about him and saw set faces and steadfast eyes such as he was accustomed to see when speaking on weighty matters. Then he went on again.

“We are here, a hundred and sixty strangers and adventurers, in the heart of an empire whose inhabitants, by all accounts, may be numbered by myriads. Between us and the sea over which we came and by which alone we could return whence we came is a barrier which we have crossed as guests and which we can never recross save as conquerors. Within a league or so of us Atahuallpa lies encamped, the leader of a conquering host that is numbered by thousands, while we are numbered by tens.

“So far we have been received as guests and friends, but the youngest of us here is too old a soldier to be deceived by such appearances as we have seen. In this wondrous land, where gold and silver and gems seem to have no value, our entertainment has cost so little that it is but a drop in the ocean of Atahuallpa’s wealth. Against that it behoves us as reasonable men to set the value of our destruction to him. You know through many rumours that these heathens have received us at the bidding of one of their ancient superstitions as beings somewhat more than human, as children of one of their gods, whose son they have by an unwelcome if somewhat useful flattery taken me to be.”

Here he stopped and stroked his beard, and Pedro de Candia, looking round at the Fray Valverde, said in a low tone that had a laugh running through it--

“That, methinks, would be but a poor warrant in the eyes of the Church for the canonisation even of your Excellency, and yet a very good reason for the excommunication and anathema of his imperial high and mightiness should it ever come to the holy father yonder to pronounce the ban upon him.”

Valverde smiled but said nothing, having said all he would say in his smile. Some of the others laughed aloud, guessing his meaning, and Pizarro went on--

“I see thou hast taken my meaning even before I spoke it, de Candia, and so thou hast left me but little more to say. We are few but strong against many whose only strength is in their numbers. It may be, as indeed seems most likely to me, that we have been decoyed by fair-seeming appearances into a trap, but if so this would not be the first time that the caged animal has turned and rent his captor. For us there is no escape save through the red road of battle and victory. These people, as I have said, are strong only in their numbers, and more than that, from what we have seen it is manifest that they are a huge body which moves and acts by the thought and will of a single head.

“To strike the body would be but to bury our weapons, as it were, in a mountain of flesh, which would be as vain a work as striking an elephant with a dagger. Wherefore it will be as plain to you as it is to me that if we are to reduce this vast body to our will and purposes--nay, if we are to prevent it from eating us, alive or dead, at a mouthful, we must strike swift and straight and strong at its head.

“In a word,” he went on, tapping with his forefinger on the table in front of him, “it is not upon this Inca empire with its innumerable legions that we must make war; it is upon Atahuallpa himself, and in that warfare our first weapon must be that of the weak: we must use cunning first and steel afterwards. Atahuallpa, himself a usurper who has divided the empire of his father in war with his brother, has, to my mind, led us here into a trap baited with a simulation of kindness and welcome and with the sight of gold and silver and gems such as we have here about us. It is for us, having no retreat, to take the fowler in his own snare.”

He paused again and looked about him as though expecting an answer from some one. But no answer came. Bold as they were, the quiet daring of this tremendous proposition was more than they could grasp at the first view of it. For a hundred and sixty men, less than half a troop of cavalry, isolated in a strange land, cut off from all resources save such as they could make for themselves, in the midst of a land whose extent they only dimly dreamt of, and confronted and, it might be, surrounded with armies of unknown numbers, to take captive the lord and master of uncounted thousands looked at first sight an enterprise such as only demigods could dare, and yet another moment’s thought showed them that the masterful genius of Pizarro had in those few weighty sentences pointed out the only possible way to victory and the only means of saving the little army of adventurers from destruction.

There was silence for a time, and Pizarro, folding his arms across his cuirass, closed his eyes and waited for his words to sink, as they did, deep into their minds. Then, as no one else seemed inclined to break a silence that was getting irksome to him, Carvahal took another deep drink of chicha from the golden bowl before him, and then, putting it down with a clash on the table, said--

“By the bones of St. Francis! it seems that, whether this heathen body has a head or not, at least this Christian body of ours has. There never yet was a maze that had no way out of it if but a single one, and the Captain has found not only the way but the thread that leads to it. Doubtless he will give that thread into our hands in good time. Meanwhile there is another view to be taken of our position. We are not only a little band of wanderers lost in the vastness of a strange land. For my own part I would rather call ourselves a wedge of steel driven by the hand of God into the heart of a mighty oak. Oak is strong, but steel is stronger. Carramba! let but the wedge be driven far enough and the tree will be split? What say you, Caballeros?”

“Spoken like a stout soldier, Carvahal,” laughed Pedro de Candia across the table, “and for once with as fine a point upon thy tongue as thou art wont to have upon thy sword.”

“And like a good and faithful Christian to boot!” cried Valverde, rising to his feet. “It is not we who are delivered into the hands of the heathen. It is the heathen who in his blindness hath been delivered into ours. What shall the numbers of this unbelieving tyrant avail if we are but true to ourselves and our holy cause. We here in the flesh are but few, yet if our hearts do not fail us, shall not all the hosts of Heaven come to our aid in the hour of need? Who can prevail against the Lord and His anointed? Hath not the Vicar of Christ himself blessed our holy enterprise, and shall not it therefore come to a happy issue? Let the wisdom of the serpent unite with the courage of the lion, and all the hosts of heathendom shall not avail against us!”

“If we find the valour,” growled Carvahal to Hernando de Soto, sitting next to him, “we may trust the holy father to find the cunning. Methinks that if we took this fair valley for Eden we should not have to look very far for the serpent. Holy Saints, what heresy am I talking!” and once more he buried his broad, red face in the golden bowl of chicha.

Then Pizarro opened his eyes again and said as quietly as before--

“Well, then, Caballeros, since none of you hath anything against my plan, we will take it as approved till a better one shall suggest itself, and, as there are few heads amongst us, it will be well to have the best thoughts of all. This afternoon, therefore, let every one ponder what I have said, let every man, gentle and simple, think himself in the greatest peril that he hath yet ventured into, which in truth may well be the case. Let us consider these lodgings of ours our fortress, let every means be taken to guard against surprise, and yet forget not that everything must be done in such fashion that no suspicion shall be aroused. To-night our council of war shall meet, and to-morrow, if Atahuallpa does not send an embassy to us, whether of peace or war, then we will send one to him. And now, Caballeros,” he went on, rising from his seat, “we have used our tongues enough for the present. Let us use our eyes and ears and learn what we can of the truth of this strange situation into which we have come. We have but scant time for thought and plan-making, for we know not how soon the moment for action may come.”

There was a little hum of conversation after this, each one talking with his neighbour and discussing the thoughts that were uppermost in his mind. Hernando de Soto, Pedro de Candia, and Alonso de Molina were seated together at a little distance from the Captain, his brother, and Valverde. Presently de Soto caught Pizarro’s eye and made a motion as if he would speak. He nodded to him as though to say that he was listening, and de Soto said in a tone loud enough for all the others to hear--

“We have been talking, Señor, likening ourselves to the warriors of Judah on the borders of Canaan. They sent men to spy out the strength or weakness of the land. Why should not we do the same thing? It is yet but a little past noon, and Atahuallpa is no more than a league or so away. There is no time to be lost, and that which we have to learn we cannot learn too quickly. I have been your envoy with some success twice already: once at Tumbez and once at Caxas and Huamacucho. Give me half a score of horse and let me ride across the valley and speak face to face with the Inca himself while you are making safe your position here. Before nightfall I shall be back with news that may be well worth the telling.”

A hum of admiration and approval ran round the chamber as he uttered this daring proposal, and Pizarro answered, speaking slowly and gravely, and yet with a gleam of approbation in his eyes--

“That would be a bold venture, de Soto, and one well worthy of him who would undertake it, but, bethink thee--an embassy of ten to one who cannot know the laws of Christian warfare, surrounded by countless legions amidst which ye would be but as a handful of pebbles dropped into the ocean! We could ill afford to lose thee, de Soto, and I would rather lose my right hand than thee and ten others. What think you, Hernando?”

His brother thought for a moment, and then he looked up and said--

“De Soto is right, and I for one see no danger in the venture. Rather would it show the Inca that we come as friends, suspecting nothing of such designs as he may have against us. If Atahuallpa seeks our destruction, believing us safe in his power, he will not alarm the whole of his quarry by offering violence to our embassy. If his friendship be genuine, then, too, there can be no danger. Let de Soto take a score of our best-mounted horsemen and set out forthwith. The venture may well look a bold one in heathen eyes, and its boldness can do our enterprise little harm and may do it much good. Let them go, say I.”

Pizarro looked down and stroked his beard in silence for a moment. Then he looked up and said--

“That is well and cunningly reasoned, brother. Thou wert ever a sound counsellor. Boldness is, after all, the best weapon of those who are at once stout of heart and few in number. De Soto, choose thy troop, to the number of not more than twenty. Take Filipillo to be thy mouthpiece, and God give thee a good return!”