CHAPTER VII.
DE SOTO’S AUDIENCE
The ceremony of proclaiming the young prince Inca-Regent and Protector was brief and simple, though by no means without a due impressiveness. Escorted by a procession of the Priests of the Sun and the Curacas of Cuzco and the other towns in the valley, who had been summoned the evening before, he entered the great Sanctuary of the Temple, where, laying his hands upon the altar, and looking up at the great image of the Sun upon the wall above it, he swore to rule according to the Ancient Laws as long as he should hold his office, and to instantly relinquish it as soon as it should be shown that his brother Huascar was still alive and restored to freedom; that he would defend the throne and country against all enemies, whether from within or without, and that, should it be proved that the Usurper had in truth compassed the death of Huascar, he would neither rest nor spare toil or danger until he had meted out to him the punishment due to so awful a crime.
After this Anda-Huillac, the Villac-Umu, or Chief Priest of the Sun, took the yellow Llautu, or turban, which betokened his princely rank, from his brow, and replaced it with the red one which was only worn by the reigning Inca. But there was one of the insignia of royalty wanting, and this was the imperial borla, the fringe of intertwined scarlet and gold thread, which Manco had vowed never to assume, come what might, until the Usurper had paid the penalty of his crimes, and he was undisputed lord of all the land that had owned the sway of his father.
Thus semi-crowned he was escorted back to the palace of Viracocha, fronting the great central square of the city, and there his attendants buckled on the polished steel cuirass which his friend Valdez had bequeathed to him, and girded him with the long, straight sword, for which his own artificers had made a golden sheath of very cunning and beautiful workmanship, and a sword-belt of flat links of gold and silver thickly studded, as the sword-hilt was, with gems.
From his turban sprang an aigrette of the white feathers of the coraquenque, which none but a reigning Inca might wear, fastened by a golden clasp, from which hung a great flat emerald, which in Europe would have been worth a prince’s ransom. Under the cuirass a woollen tunic, as fine as silk and dyed a brilliant purple, descended to his knees, leaving the rest of his shapely, muscular legs bare. His feet were shod with the royal sandals of linked and flexible gold, bound on by jewelled cross-straps, and from his shoulders hung a cloak of pure white wool, embroidered with gold and scarlet thread, and bearing on the left breast an image of the sun in beaten gold, which was an exact miniature of the great effigy in the Sanctuary. The cloak was fastened loosely across his broad shoulders by a clasp formed of two great rubies of equal size and similar shape, set in curiously chased gold.
Such was the figure of Manco-Capac, the last of his royal line and Divine Blood, as he strode out of the great gateway of the palace on to the terrace in front of it, before which the Spanish envoys with their attendants were already drawn up awaiting his coming. A great open space had been kept in front of the terrace by close, orderly ranks of the Regent’s own regiments, armed with sword and spear and shield; and on the terrace his own bodyguard of picked warriors, splendidly armed and uniformed, kept the space round the throne-seat, which had been placed for him at the top of the low, broad flight of steps which led from the terrace to the square.
A shrill blast of silver, sweet-toned trumpets, followed by a deep shout of welcome and homage, heralded his coming, and the amazed and dazzled Spaniards involuntarily bowed their respectful greetings to him as he walked with slow, stately strides to the silver throne-seat, looking, as ben-Alcazar murmured to de Soto, every inch a warrior and a king.
He did not at once take his seat, but stood beside the throne looking straight out across the square, as though he were not even aware of the presence of the Spaniards. There was another lower seat beside his, and presently from another door of the palace came Nahua, attired in flowing robes of pure white wool, bare-headed save for a broad band of polished silver which encircled her brows and confined the long, shining brown hair which fell in thick rippling masses over her shoulders and below her waist.
She was followed by an escort of the fairest and noblest of the Virgins of the Sun, twelve of whom, attired exactly like her, walked on either side of her. As she approached the front of the terrace, Manco turned and held his right hand out towards her. She took it with a gesture in which love and reverence were visibly blended, and bent over it for a moment, and then Manco, with a softly-spoken word of welcome, bade her take her place beside his throne.
Then he himself sat down, and, still without making the slightest sign of greeting or recognition, he stared straight at the Spaniards who were standing at the foot of the flight of steps, divided between admiration for the splendour of the scene and wonder at the cuirass and sword--which a single glance had told them must have crossed the ocean in one of their own ships--in the possession of the young Inca. It was in this moment, too, that Alonso de Molina’s loyalty to the dark-eyed Señorita who was waiting for him in far-away Seville first wavered as he gazed in admiring wonder on the sweet and gentle beauty of Nahua.
At length the Inca made an almost imperceptible sign with his hand, and the Villac-Umu came and stood beside his chair and said to the leader of the Spaniards’ escort--
“Who is the chief among the strangers? Let him ascend to the midway of the steps that his eyes may be blessed with the sight of the glory of our Lord, and his ears with the graciousness of his words.”
All the members of the escort, even Atahuallpa’s own secretary, carried light wands across their shoulders in obedience to the rule which compelled all who came into the presence of the Inca to come bearing the semblance of a burden in token of their service to him, and the Curaca who was addressed immediately gave his to de Soto, and bade Filipillo tell him what to do with it, he himself instantly taking another from an attendant and laying it across his shoulders. But de Soto, who knew perfectly the meaning of the act of homage, refused it somewhat indignantly, and said in a loud voice to the interpreter--
“Bid him tell his master that we are gentlemen of Spain and pay homage to none save our own king, from whom we come as honourable envoys, not as slaves.”
Then, to the amazement of all of them, and before Filipillo could translate what he had said, the Inca, looking straight at de Soto, beckoned to him and said in perfect Spanish, and with scarcely a trace of foreign accent--
“There is no dishonour in the act, Señor, yet I have no wish to force our customs unwillingly upon you. Approach, therefore, in your own fashion, and show me your credentials, and tell me the message you bring from your master.”
Then de Soto left his wondering companions and mounted the first of the double flight of steps, with his left hand resting on his sword-hilt and carrying in his right the thread of gold and scarlet which the chief of their escort had given to him. He stopped on the broader step which divided the flight, and, holding this out, said in a voice still full of wonder but instinct with respect and knightly courtesy--
“This is the sign that was given to us by his Majesty the Inca, who is presently our guest at Cajamarca, to be presented to the chief men of this city, where, to our great amazement, we find one who can himself be nothing less than a prince and chief of the royal house, and, to our still greater marvel, one who speaks the Castilian speech as purely as the most gently-bred hidalgo of Spain.”
As Manco’s glance fell upon the symbol of Atahuallpa’s authority his brows came swiftly together in a frown, but his lips curved in a scornful smile as he said, with a contemptuous wave of his hand--
“Señor, if you have no better sanction for your embassy than that you may take it back whence you had it. There is no other majesty in this land than that of my Lord and brother Huascar, in whose place of rule I sit to-day, holding it for him till our Father the Sun shall restore him to us, or--as a grievous rumour has already told us--call him back into his own presence. He from whom you had that is no Inca or lawful ruler. He is a traitor to our laws, a dishonourer of the memory of his great father and mine, and an oppressor and slayer of his people.
“Moreover,” he went on, speaking even more sternly than before, “if report has told me truly, you, Señor, are not speaking to me with a straight tongue. The Usurper is not your guest but your prisoner, and in taking him captive you slew with great cruelty and with no just cause many of his people, who were also ours, and who had done you no harm--though at my hands they might have merited death, since they had followed the Usurper and forsaken their rightful Lord. What have you to say to that, Señor? But first tell me from whom you come. It cannot be that you are here as envoys from your captive.”
De Soto, no less than his companions, was almost as much disturbed by the stern directness of the Inca’s charge and reproof as he was astonished by the strength and majesty of his bearing and his wonderful, and to them inexplicable, command of their own language. His bronzed cheeks flushed with something very like shame, but his quick intelligence told him that, if his embassy was not to end there and then in abrupt failure, and it might be disaster, he must make a bold stroke to gain the goodwill of this superb young prince, whether his instructions warranted it or not. So he paused a little, meeting as well as he could the steady, frowning gaze of the Inca, and when he had somewhat collected his thoughts said with a note of respectful deprecation in his voice--
“Your Majesty, for such I now truly perceive you to be, and so lawful ruler of these realms, since the Prince your brother hath been dead now for many days, slain, as we have reason to believe, by order of him whom your royal justice rightly describes as a usurper, I will state my errand first. We are not here to explain or excuse what was done in Cajamarca. We are only simple knights and soldiers. What we did, we did under orders from our leader, who was put in authority over us by our sovereign lord, the King of Spain. Touching that matter he himself can best explain that which he found necessary to do.”
“He shall do so,” the Inca interrupted curtly. “Proceed, Señor. So you come from this leader of yours, and not from the Usurper? It would have been better for you to have said that at first.”
“And doubtless I should have done so,” replied de Soto, who had now regained his self-possession, “had I not been overcome for the moment by the splendour of the scene about us and my wonder at your Majesty’s strange command of the Castilian speech. He who sent me hither is Don Francisco Pizarro, a noble of Spain, and Generalissimo of his Catholic Majesty’s army of exploration and discovery in these regions, hitherto strange and unknown to us. He hath come hither to offer friendship and alliance to the sovereign of these realms, and, seeing Atahuallpa enjoying that state and title, and knowing nothing of the disputes which have lately rent this land, invited him to honourable conference. But he, as was believed, came with other and treacherous intent, having surrounded the city with armed men, who would have fallen upon us while we peacefully entertained him; so our Commander, to be beforehand with him, took him prisoner, and in the doing of it, to his sorrow and ours, blood was spilt. But of that, as I have said, your Majesty will doubtless hear the true explanation from his own lips.
“As for us,” he went on again after a little pause, during which he sought in vain to read the effect of his words on Manco’s stern and impassive face; “as for myself and my companions, we have been sent hither by our leader on a twofold errand, one part whereof was to set the matter of Atahuallpa’s ransom, which he himself hath fixed at a great and most marvellous quantity of gold, before the chief men of this city, to which end he sent the symbol of his authority by me, ordering them to do their part in collecting it with all possible speed. The other part was to perform a commission which the unexpected but most pleasing presence of your Majesty already in authority over this city has made at once easier and more speedy of performance.”
“If it is to invite me to Cajamarca, as thy master hath already invited Atahuallpa, you may spare yourself the trouble of speaking your message, Señor,” again interrupted the Inca, with a somewhat disconcerting laugh running through his tone. “I need no invitation to my own city, and when I come it will be at the head of my armies. Now say on, but say no more of that.”
De Soto saw the force of this home-thrust instantly, and, being well-nigh as skilled in tongue-fence as he was in sword-play, parried it as quickly as it was delivered.
“It is true, your Majesty,” he said, returning the Inca’s smile with frank deference, “that I am the bearer of an invitation from our Captain-General, but not such a one as that. Don Francisco, being cognisant of your royal birth and your just claims to the throne of these realms, and being, moreover, well informed of the valour and fortitude with which you have sustained the labours and misfortunes of the late unhappy war, bade me seek you out and offer to you, in his name and that of his august master and ours, his Most Catholic Majesty, friendship and alliance and the assistance of his arms in the regaining of your lawful inheritance.
“For his reward in doing this he will cast himself upon your Majesty’s generosity, and, the matter being happily ended, he will depart peacefully to bear the news and tokens of your friendship and alliance to our master in Spain, leaving here only such an ambassador as your Majesty shall choose from among us to be the channel of communication between this court and that of Spain, as is the custom among monarchs in the lands from which we come; and, with your Majesty’s permission, he will also leave certain holy men who shall instruct the people of these realms in the beauties and mysteries of the one true Faith.”
“True faith! What is that?” the Inca broke in sharply, and once more frowning. “If by that you mean a new faith and the worship of strange gods, such as I have heard of from men of your race who have dwelt with us, say no more of it. The faith of my fathers is enough for my people; and, moreover, how should I, who bear the name of the Divine founder of our race, and who am of his blood, make way for another god in my own land? It seems that it is you, Señor, who need teaching something of true faith and courtesy as well.”
De Soto saw instantly that he had made a false step, and at once hastened to repair the mistake.
“I crave your Majesty’s forgiveness,” he said, with greater deference than ever. “It was foolish of me to speak of matters that are beyond the comprehension of a plain soldier. I pray you think no more of it. I doubt not that when you come to have speech with Don Francisco on the matter there will be no great disagreement found between you. And now, your Majesty, so much being said, this part of my mission is performed.”
The Inca sat with his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in the palm of his hand staring at de Soto for some moments after he had done speaking. Then he said slowly--
“These are weighty matters, and not to be lightly disposed of. You, Señor, have done your part well, and I hope with honour and truthfulness. You and your companions shall be my guests during your stay in the city. I must talk with my wise men and trusted counsellors over these things, and you shall have my answer to take back to your leader as soon as may be. Till then my palace over yonder, which you have just come from, shall be your home. When I have more to say to you I will send for you, but when you come again do not bring that sore-eyed slave with you. I have heard of him. He is a Yunca, and a slave, and a maker of mischief, and you see that I can talk with you without his help. Tell him that if I see his face again I will have him killed, for the sight of him is not good for my eyes. Now adios, Señor, till we meet again.”
De Soto received his courteous dismissal with a ceremonious bow, saying--
“I thank your Majesty for your gracious words and generous hospitality. So far as our duty to our master may permit, we are your servants so long as we shall remain in your realms. Adios!”
And so saying, in true courtier style he saluted the Inca, bowed low before Nahua, whom he naturally believed to be already his consort, and, without turning his back, descended the steps and rejoined his still wondering companions.