Chapter XXII

Pizarro’s guard over Atahualpa’s house allowed its most dangerous visitor to pass and repass without hindrance. Yma’s garb of the Sun Virgin gave her instant admission and exit. The commander’s orders against any molestation of these girls had been rigidly enforced and scrupulously obeyed. None knew better than the Spaniard the force of religious fanaticism. More than one guard had cast longing eyes on the beautiful dancer. But none of them had offered the slightest insult.

The girl took advantage of her freedom to give her whole energy to the cause of the Inca. From the convent on the outskirts of the city she organized an uprising for the rescue of the captive. Every convent and temple of the Sun was now a rallying point of her conspiracy. Yet it was necessary to keep from Atahualpa and his household the slightest hint of this secret. There was a woman among the royal wives whom she had caught speaking in whispers to Felipillo, the interpreter, whose hatred of Atahualpa was well known. This venomous betrayer of his people was rapidly learning the worst traits of the Spaniards and counting them virtues. He had been to Spain with Pizarro and reckoned himself the equal of any Spaniard in subtlety and ambition. He was in love with a wife of the sovereign and now that the Inca was in captivity had determined to take advantage of the situation to seize the girl under his very nose. How far the woman had gone in disloyalty to her master it was impossible to tell. Too far, Yma believed, to permit a word of her plans to be breathed in the House of the Serpent.

The royal court had been restored to something of its old splendor in spite of the restrictions on the monarch’s movements. He daily held a state reception and received his nobles and the humblest subject who sought his decisions. They came in hundreds and then in thousands bearing gifts and offering their love and reverence in the hour of their master’s humiliation. No member of the nobility, however exalted, ever dared to enter his presence without removing his shoes and bearing a load of some kind on his back in token of his full submission to the Lord of the Sun. These acts of homage were received by the ruler as a matter of course, and drew from him no response, as none had been expected.

The Spaniards watched the growth of these levees with a touch of suspicion, and redoubled the vigilance of his guard.

Yma had quickly seen the importance of this court scene. It fitted perfectly with her scheme. While the ransom was pouring into Caxamalca, her chosen warriors were drilling in secret for the _coup_ she had planned.

While Pizarro guarded the roads entering the Plaza with care, Yma and her five hundred sisters in the convent of the Sun organized a far more efficient guard on the roads outside the city. No native now entered its gates without giving an account of himself to these secret agents. Her one big fear was from the prisoner in Andamarca. Pizarro had not yet discovered the place of Huascar’s confinement, but it could not be concealed much longer.

A faithful spy at Andamarca reported to the Court at Caxamalca that Huascar was wildly excited over the news of his rival’s fall. On the following night his courier was on the way with a message written in the _quipa_ strings and knots which Felipillo could read. The road from Andamarca led across the ridge on which the fortress stood in which Molina was hidden.

Yma stood beside her guards watching the roadway. She was absolutely sure that Huascar’s messengers were on the way. They appeared at the very hour they were expected. The courier was accompanied by a heavy veteran of Huascar’s, faithful to the sovereign of the South.

The two men stopped in amazement at a girl’s voice calling from the shadows:

“Halt!”

The answer was a leap forward in an attempt to pass down the stairway toward Caxamalca.

“Take them!” cried Yma in a sharp command.

Her two guards leaped like jaguars and the fight was on. With desperate courage the men from Andamarca fought until overcome. But with a knife at his throat the leader surrendered his _quipa_ message. The two were bound, led into the fortress and safely lodged to await the orders of the Inca.

Yma’s entrance into his levee was most casual on the following morning. She knelt at his feet and gave a sign to the group of Sun Virgins who formed a circle of adoration. When they rose the Inca was completely hidden from the crowd who yielded to the ceremony of his chosen servants.

In low tones Yma murmured:

“Read, O Lord of the Sun, and give thy commands.”

The blood-shot eyes stared in cold anger at the message from his brother. It was addressed to Felipillo for his master Francisco Pizarro. Huascar proposed to the invaders to double the amount of the ransom offered by his rival if the Spaniards would restore him to the throne. He declared that Atahualpa could not make good his agreement as he had never known the hiding place of the greatest treasures of the temple at Cuzco.

“Thank you, glorious Virgin of the Sun,” the Inca whispered. “Come to-morrow at this hour and receive my orders.”

The girl had scarcely left the presence of Atahualpa when Pizarro entered and asked an audience. The Inca waved his nobles and all attendants aside and the Spaniard explained his presence.

“I have just received, Your Highness, a request from the nobles of the South that I act as judge in the dispute between your brother Huascar and yourself. Their petition seems fair and if you will bring your brother from his secret prison I will do this duty to you both. I need not say that my feelings are with you. But if I may render a decision as arbiter, it might do much to pacify the nobles.”

The Inca pursed his lips and held his silence for a moment. How much the Spaniard knew he could only guess. It was safe to venture that he did not know the place of Huascar’s confinement and that he had as yet received no message from the traitor. The request was so obvious a threat that Atahualpa restrained his anger with an effort. His voice was smooth as velvet when he finally answered.

“I thank you for your noble intentions, commander,” he said, “but there is nothing to arbitrate. The question was settled in battle and the country is now tranquil. I am acknowledged the Supreme Lord of all the nation. But for my foolish generosity my misguided brother would have been executed for plunging the people in a bloody civil war. I trust that you will not press on me this request while I am straining every resource of the kingdom to fulfill my contract with you. The very mention of such a trial would destroy my authority in a moment and cause the immediate suspension of the delivery of your gold.”

The commander quickly saw the logic of the argument.

“Of course,” he agreed, “I will not press such an issue on you, but I will be ready to serve you in the matter at any time after you are set at liberty, if it is desired.”

The Inca bowed his pleasure at the suggestion, but his mind was working now with lightning-like rapidity. He asked the chief priest to attend him in a sacrifice in his own rooms at nightfall.

When the inhabitants of the Square were wrapped in sleep, the Inca, attended by his Queen, the Dowager and High Priest, opened a heavy door under the stairway of the House of the Serpent and the Council of State was convened in a secret chamber below.

The question of Huascar’s treason was put to the Council and his death decreed by unanimous vote. The High Priest wrote the sentence in the _quipa_, and the Inca signed it with the scarlet knot only tied by his hand.

“To-morrow I will dispatch this order to the keeper of the prison at Andamarca for execution.”

Little could he dream the use the Spaniards would make of this rightful exercise of his sovereignty.