Civilizations

by Laurent Binet

The ingenious Sepúlveda did not despair. Every morning, the gates of the Alhambra opened to let in the conversos and Mohammedans of the Albaicín who worked in the gardens, the kitchen, the laundry and did all sorts of other non-military jobs because there were insufficient Quitonians to do all of this themselves. In the evenings, the gates would open again to let those workers leave. Sepúlveda envisioned disguising Charles and slipping him out among them. He passed along his plan to the men in Santa Fe, and they sent a detachment of soldiers to lie in ambush outside the gates; their task was to pick up the king and take him to a safe place.

  On the day in question, at sunset, the two men mingled with the crowd of workers on their way home. In order to pass incognito, they were dressed in the simplest, poorest clothes and wore hoods to cover their faces. But Chalco Chimac, suspicious by nature, observed the opening of the gates every evening from the ramparts above. He recognised Charles’s tapir nose as it poked out of his hood and immediately raised the alarm. ‘Shut the gates!’ he ordered. The king’s men, waiting outside, heard this too, and charged to his rescue with cries of, ‘Santiago!’ Armed Spaniards ran into the Alhambra. The Quitonians fired at them and they fired back. The workers panicked and in an instant the situation descended into chaos. Arrows and metal balls whistled through the air; men threw themselves to the ground or yelled in pain. The Spaniards, who had come as a small group to avoid detection, retreated. Sepúlveda tried to lead Charles to safety, but suddenly the king collapsed, hit by a bullet from an arquebus. Sepúlveda just had time to make it through the gates before they closed. He managed to flee with the survivors. But Charles remained within, lying on a carpet of corpses. Chalco Chimac rushed over to him. The king of Spain was struggling to breathe.

  He took three days to die. Nobody understood his last words.

  For the Quitonians, it was a disaster. They knew his death could not be revealed at any cost. They buried the body at night, without ceremony, in the gardens of the Alhambra, in the middle of the tomato plants. But Sepúlveda had seen him collapse and he told the lords in Santa Fe that their king had been mortally wounded and that there was now no reason not to attack the Alhambra. True, the queen and her children were still behind those walls, in the hands of the barbarians, but every good Christian’s heart was now devoted purely to the need for vengeance. ‘Represalia!’ he shouted.

  And yet, how could they be sure that the king was dead? The Spaniards sent delegations that were all turned back. In spite of everything, they still hoped for a miracle and could not resign themselves to the death of their sovereign. Besides, the events as described by Sepúlveda and the other witnesses were so unclear that nobody could even be certain which side had fired the fatal shot. Sepúlveda swore that it came from the ramparts, but his partiality made them doubt his judgement. Not that it would really change anything. Either Charles was alive or he was dead.

  The Quitonians made the most of this hesitation among their enemies to settle on a strategy. They suspected that the queen and her children would not be enough to hold back the imperial army, and that an attack was therefore imminent. Defended in numbers, the Alhambra was impregnable, but without a hostage they knew that there weren’t enough of them to withstand a siege. Chalco Chimac suggested painting the corpse’s face and walking him along the ramparts as if he were alive. The others praised his ingenuity, but his plan was not put into practice.

  In fact, there was only one solution: they had to flee. When Santa Fe sent a final ultimatum demanding proof that Charles was still alive, Atahualpa decided that they would leave that very evening, as discreetly as possible. If they managed to reach the mountains, they might have a chance. Either way, they would take the queen and her children with them.

  Barely had the last llama in the procession left the gates of the Alhambra than they had to abandon all hope of this plan succeeding. The Spanish were waiting in ambush and they fell upon them. The path to the mountain was cut off. The Quitonians were driven to the foot of the hill, where a small river flows, and the Spanish began to slaughter them there. Coya Asarpay had her first contractions.

  On the other side, the Albaicín hill barred the way. They were at the bottom of a gorge and they were going to die. But the Albaicín was not sleeping. In fact, a roar arose from it and it seemed to move like the sea. Its inhabitants watched this scene: the heroic resistance of the foreigners against the Christians as they were decimated by artillery fire and the charges of the Spanish cavalry. In the white backstreets, the roar grew louder. The Moriscos repeated a sentence in their own language, a sentence that they believed had been spoken by their god: ‘You will have the rulers that you deserve.’ Probably, they spotted an opportunity: political, providential, emotional. Waves of men hurtled down the hillside and crashed into the melee. Where had they found their weapons? In kitchens, in shops, in workshops and fields. Perhaps they had kept them or stolen them or forged them with their own hands in preparation for just such an occasion.

  The surprise attack broke the Spaniards’ momentum. They were too well equipped and too numerous to be dispersed, but they yielded under the pressure, they fell back. They beat a retreat without breaking rank. But this respite was enough: it enabled the Quitonians to escape from the ravine where they’d become embroiled and to vanish into the labyrinth of white backstreets, where the Spanish would not search for them.

  23. Cadiz

  The Morisco revolt spread throughout Andalusia. Atahualpa took advantage of the confusion it created to flee yet again. The Albaicín was a refuge while they healed their wounded, but it was not a sanctuary where they could remain indefinitely; sooner or later, the Spanish would return. And this Ferdinand, whose army was reputedly so powerful, would come in person to avenge his brother’s death.

  Córdoba, Seville … they avoided the cities now. They had left behind their parrots, their llamas, their cuys, even Atahualpa’s puma, bringing only their last three hostages, the queen and her two children: all that remained, now, of the Spanish crown. Those who could ride were on horseback; there were no litters any more, only a few carts to transport the wounded. And this pathetic procession followed the sun, moaning softly, while the vultures above them – the condors of this land – squawked as they circled in the sky.

  If Atahualpa had wanted simply to reach the sea, they would have headed south. But it was the west he craved; always further west he went, from dawn till dusk, without ever deviating from his course, driving men and beasts beyond their last reserves of strength, as if he were chasing the sun, as if he wanted to catch it, or reach it, or overtake it. But always the sun, Inti, his ancestor and his god, escaped him, and they arrived in Cadiz.

  The city appeared deserted but in fact the inhabitants, not knowing what to expect, were all hiding in their homes, shutters closed. Sensing their mute presence, the Quitonians advanced like pumas. The temple in Cadiz in honour of the nailed god was another impressive building and some of them wanted to stop there to get some rest. But Atahualpa was fixated on reaching the port. His men began to suspect that he was looking for a ship to take him home. Some thought this a good idea. Unfortunately, the port was empty, except for a few small boats; all the ships had left. Only then did Atahualpa consent to move into the temple.

  Days passed. The conversos and the Moriscos who had stayed with the Quitonians went out into the city and returned with supplies of food. One day, the son of the old Jewess from Toledo brought alarming news: a detachment of soldiers was approaching; they were searching for the Quitonians, to capture or kill them on the spot, and it was probably just the vanguard. Charles’s army was on the march, and Ferdinand’s too perhaps. They must flee now.

  But Atahualpa didn’t want to flee. The men had had enough; his sister-wife was close to giving birth. They had come to the end of the road. Everyone of a rank high enough to speak to him had told him that every hour they delayed was an error with possibly irreparable consequences, but the young Inca seemed undisturbed. He ordered Quizquiz to organise the defence
of the city. Cadiz was encircled by ramparts, and they could rely on the support of all the Moriscos in the area, but if they were going to withstand a siege, why leave the Alhambra in the first place? his generals wondered. The walls that surrounded Cadiz were not comparable to the gigantic red citadel perched high on its rocks. Naturally, nobody dared say any of this to Atahualpa. Only Coya Asarpay protested, and her protests were wordless moans as her pregnancy reached its final moments.

  The situation quickly degenerated. Quizquiz was able to drive back the Spanish vanguard, but then a new siege began, in conditions that were far more uncertain than before. The remaining inhabitants were hostile to the Quitonians, and the port made them vulnerable to a maritime attack. Atahualpa devoted all his attention to the port, while his generals looked after the ramparts. And it was there, in the port, that the heaviest weight was dropped on to one side of the scales, shifting the balance of power.

  One morning, when the Quitonians knew that the end of the siege was only a matter of days – or possibly even hours – away, five ships appeared on the horizon. Caught off guard, Atahualpa’s people thought that they were really done for now. Only Atahualpa himself envisaged another possibility. His gaze focused on the ships’ bows. And while his companions waited, resigned, for the first cannon shots, he recognised Higuénamota, Pedro Pizarro and Tupac Hualpa – Huascar’s brother, and his own. That was when he knew they were saved, and that this world would be his.

  24. The Incades, Book I, Verse 24

  Immortal heirs of light, my purpose hear,

  My counsels ponder, and the Fates revere:

  Unless oblivion o’er your minds has thrown

  Her dark blank shades, to you, ye gods, are known

  The Fates’ decree, and ancient warlike fame

  Of that bold race which boasts Atahualpa’s name;

  That bold advent’rous race, the Fates declare,

  A potent empire in the East shall rear,

  Surpassing Babel’s or the Persian fame,

  Proud Grecia’s boast, or Rome’s illustrious name.

  25. The Conquest

  Germany, England, Savoy, Flanders … he didn’t care about those places. He cared about Andalusia. Castile. Spain. Andalusia was his land, now, and he would die for her, if necessary. But not today.

  The ships’ holds were full of three things: gold, silver, saltpetre.

  With the saltpetre, Quizquiz fed the cannons on the ramparts and dispersed the enemy. He was not attempting to defeat the Spanish army, just to send a message: the situation has changed. Your world will never be the same again. You are the Fifth Quarter.

  With the gold and the silver, they could buy men. The news of the ships loaded with gold spread quickly and mercenaries came running. Many soldiers even deserted the Spanish army to join the Incas.

  Atahualpa proclaimed that the conversos, Jews, Moriscos, Lutherans, Erasmians, sodomites and witches were now under his protection.

  Every day, hundreds of new arrivals swelled his army and proved the truth of his proclamation.

  While an emissary was sent to Navarre, another was already galloping towards Augsburg.

  Atahualpa took Seville without a single cannon shot being fired. The queen and the heir moved into the Alcazar Palace with him.

  He used the port in Seville to establish a maritime link with Tawantinsuyu, via Cuba. This ensured the supply of gold and silver. Fugger would now advance him as much money as he needed.

  And in fact, Atahualpa needed quite a lot, because he had big plans. He summoned the Cortes and asked them to immediately confirm the child Philip as the future king of Spain, while simultaneously ratifying Atahualpa himself as regent. In this world, anything seemed possible with gold; or at least, nothing was possible without it. Gold and silver simplified everything.

  The party led by Tavera and Granvelle, who had almost destroyed him, now had no means of opposing him; their claim to legitimacy had died with Charles, they had run out of gold, and their army had been ravaged by an unknown disease.

  The Inca wasted no time giving Flanders and Artois to the king of France, and Ferdinand’s army went off to defend his brother’s provinces, leaving Atahualpa at liberty.

  And now, he wished to reign. Or rather, since the Spanish crown was not exactly vacant, he wished to govern.

  What had he offered to Huascar to make peace? Some black drink, some arquebuses, some wheat, some talking leaves and paintings. The idea that the world was big enough for both of them. And the prospect of new riches, in exchange for riches that Tawantinsuyu already possessed in abundance: gold and silver.

  And so the Incas discovered trade, that activity that consists of exchanging goods for money.

  Higuénamota had carried out her mission to perfection. She could have stayed in Cuba with her people and never returned. But she decided otherwise, out of love for Atahualpa, perhaps, although she made no mystery of her relationship with young Pizarro. More likely, it was a taste for adventure, the lure of curiosity that tipped the balance. She loved this world of passions and promises; she wanted to find out where it would lead them. And she also wanted to see Italy. In fact, she was sad when she discovered that Lorenzino had returned to his own land. At the time, she didn’t know what role fate had in store for the young Florentine.

  She didn’t know anything about what would happen next.

  26. The Incades, Book I, Verse 74

  Has Heaven, indeed, such glorious lot ordain’d,

  By Atahualpa’s race such conquests to be gain’d

  O’er warlike nations, and on Europe’s shore,

  Where I, unrivall’d, claim’d the palm before?

  … Must these the victor’s lordly flag display

  With hateful blaze beneath the rising day,

  My name dishonour’d, and my victories stain’d,

  O’erturn’d my altars, and my shrines profan’d?

  27. Young Manco

  Tupac Hualpa had brought with him a quipu, which contained Huascar’s answer to Atahualpa’s message.

  Huascar forgave his brother and was willing to forget his past offences since Atahualpa had renounced all claim to the throne of the Four Quarters. At his request, he was sending three hundred men and large quantities of gold, silver and saltpetre. In exchange, he expected more of the black drink, the fire sticks and the magic paintings that gave the illusion of depth. He thanked his brother for sending him the engineer Pedro Pizarro to explain these new weapons. As he could see, the Incas had managed to build their first cannons, and he had installed them on the ships that he had chartered from Cuba.

  Huascar, in his infinite goodness, at the request of his brother and out of love for him, would not invade the island home of the Princess Higuénamota (in exchange for a modest tribute).

  The quipu had been woven in Tumipampa, where Huascar was staying with his court, because he had not wanted to return to Cuzco, perhaps sensing that events would continue to buffet him northward (as the south was in any case barred by the savage Araucanians).

  It had not been straightforward for Higuénamota to reach the emperor, but the Cuban princess had, as always, made a big impression wherever she went. In Lisbon, she had managed to obtain not one, but three ships from Joao, aided, it is true, by the fact that Isabella, the king’s sister and Charles Quint’s wife, was in Atahualpa’s hands. Upon her return to Cuba, the Taínos, who had acquired the necessary knowledge, had built two more boats while she went to find Huascar in the heart of the Empire.

  The emperor had deciphered the quipu and, impressed by the gifts that Higuénamota had brought, agreed to grant Atahualpa’s requests, since the Four Quarters possessed massive quantities of the products he needed. His brother and general Tupac Hualpa had been given the mission of transporting the merchandise. After examining the maps (which they could now read perfectly) with Higuénamota, Atahualpa decided that his ships would henceforth leave not from Lisbon but from Cadiz, which was closer to Granada.

  Tupac Hualpa h
ad come with another of their half-brothers, the young Manco Capac, who had the great honour of bearing his first ancestor’s name. Tupac Hualpa left again with ships loaded with weapons, wine and paintings, but young Manco Capac remained. He would be Huascar’s ambassador in Seville. Or, in other words, his spy. Atahualpa diplomatically feigned ignorance of this fact.

  28. The Alcazar

  Seville welcomed the Quitonians in a very different way to the other cities they had visited.

  That day, Queen Isabella rode a white horse and was herself dressed in white satin, a sign of mourning. Beside her, Atahualpa wore the scarlet crown of the Sapa Inca on his forehead.

  The city’s greatest lords – the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the Duke of Arcos, the Marquess of Tarifa – had come to meet them, along with the mayor (the curaca in charge of running the city), and they bowed collectively before the queen and the Inca.

  Young Philip and his sister stood behind them, as did an army of six thousand men.

  As they entered the city, Chalco Chimac and Quizquiz exchanged glances, and it wasn’t hard to guess that they were remembering Charles Quint’s tent in the Salamanca countryside and measuring – in the pomp and ceremony with which they were greeted now – just how far they had come.

  Ahead of him, Quizquiz watched the leaps and scurries of Sempere, the emperor’s long white dog, which had followed Philip during the flight from the Alhambra. The animal’s snout still bore the marks of the puma’s claws. When he saw the gardens of the Alcazar and found himself dazzled by their splendour, Quizquiz imagined how the big cat would have loved being here – climbing palm trees, swimming in ponds, hunting birds – and he wondered where the puma could be.

  It was in those gardens that Coya Asarpay gave birth to a son. Atahualpa named him Charles Capac, in tribute to his unfortunate rival. Little Philip was allowed to lean over the cradle and to be his padrino. On pious Isabella’s insistence, the child was splashed with water by a local priest, just in case. Atahualpa considered this patronage to be good policy. He even offered to let Isabella take him as a second husband, but she declined this proposal.