The Light of Machu Picchu

by [Incas 03] The Light of Machu Picchu (retail) (epub)

  ‘Why not? Are we not to learn from others? We learned how to work gold and silver from Chimu goldsmiths, after all, and pottery from their ancestors, the Mochicas, and weaving from the people of Paracas. These tiles are a wonderful invention. They do away with the tiresome work of cutting ichu and replacing rotted roofs every four seasons. Should we ignore this knowledge merely because the gods haven’t yet taught it to us? Tiles won’t diminish the beauty of our buildings and walls in any way, because everyone knows that we, the Incas, build better and more beautiful buildings than any other of Viracocha’s peoples!’

  Katari’s face and voice betrayed uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Anamaya was moved. She watched the workers’ efficient ballet.

  ‘What you say makes me happy, Katari. It means that you believe that our people must continue to evolve and live in hope despite the war, despite Manco’s weakness, and despite Emperor Huayna Capac’s dire predictions.’

  ‘Let me address as one the two questions that you are asking me, Coya Camaquen,’ replied the Master of Stone in a serious tone. ‘Firstly, I believe that it’s ill-omened to ignore new knowledge and new skills. It can only displease the Powerful Ancestors who, through the strength of their will-power, cause everything in this world to exist as a mark of their presence.’

  Katari raised his arm and pointed beyond the muddy terrace they were on to a gang of children squatting and admiring a dozen horses grazing in a field.

  ‘Manco captured those animals during the battle of Ollantaytambo. He was very proud of himself when he brought them here. But what can we use them for? Only he knows how to climb on their backs. And now, unfortunately, this jungle is our only territory, and these animals cannot move through it. What’s more, we don’t know how to make the metal soles they need for their feet. So how can those horses serve us, other than by filling our children with wonder?’

  ‘Well, they serve Manco’s pride,’ said Anamaya tenderly. ‘They show that our Emperor isn’t always the victim of the Strangers’ power.’

  A thick and odorous smoke was now rising from the round kiln nearby. Anamaya soberly contemplated the men and women working around it. They remained unaware of Katari’s artwork on the tiles.

  ‘I’m flattered that you should want to tile my roof first,’ she said. ‘But I won’t see the result for some time. I have given Curi Ocllo permission to join Manco, and I’ve decided to go with her.’

  Katari gave her a surprised, worried look, and Anamaya answered his question before he had even asked it:

  ‘For almost a whole moon, I have been forbidding her to leave Vilcabamba. But she cries more than she eats and is wasting away. In any case, she may be right: Manco may well find comfort in her company.’

  ‘But why are you going with her?’

  Anamaya hesitated for a few seconds. She watched as some workers called to one another and fed green branches into the furnace in order to keep the temperature of the baking tiles stable.

  ‘I promised Manco that I would stay at his side. We’ve been apart for some time now. Also, Curi Ocllo fears that her brother Guaypar will confront Manco; there’s an old enmity between them for which I feel partly responsible. But will I be of any use to the Emperor?’

  Katari, doubtful, shook his head.

  ‘That is not your proper place, Coya Camaquen. Manco’s enmities are like the ichu roofs in this town: they are old ways that don’t keep the rain from dampening our beds nor the Strangers from winning battles. And in any case, traveling through the jungle now, while the Strangers approach, is unsafe—’

  ‘We’ll have a strong escort,’ interrupted Anamaya, placing her hand affectionately on the Master of Stone’s wrist. ‘Katari, I’m entrusting you with the Sacred Double. Take good care of him. I shall return as soon as I can. I have the feeling that soon we shall have to take him to the secret place.’

  * * *

  The small expedition – Anamaya, Curi Ocllo and a detachment of warriors – advanced cautiously through the jungle for three days, following the river, before sighting the fortified palace set on a rocky spur at Vitcos. Despite Katari’s anxiety, they had met with no trouble apart from finding a way through the tangle of dense vegetation, vegetation so profuse that it had very quickly swallowed up the path that had been cut by the previous expedition.

  Curi Ocllo had shown real courage, and had never hesitated to step out of her palanquin whenever the narrowness of the path demanded it. And now that they could see the walls of Vitcos looming over the valley, her impatience was so great that her hands trembled. Her face had lost the ugly, anxious furrows that had marked it in Vilcabamba and she had recovered the beauty that Manco so adored. Her eyes sparkled and her lips were full and soft. She looked like a very young girl as yet untroubled by experience of the world but also had the air of a grown woman who knew that her beloved would soon look upon her and call her to him.

  When they reached the bottom of the steps leading to the fortress up its steep northern slope, the column came to an abrupt halt. As the officer commanding the fifteen warriors escorting the women approached their palanquin, Curi Ocllo called out:

  ‘Why have you ordered us to stop, officer? We’re almost there…’

  The officer bowed respectfully and, with the subtlety of one long accustomed to this type of ceremonial gesture, twisted slightly so that his bow was addressed to Anamaya as much as to Curi Ocllo.

  ‘It’s true, Coya, that we are almost at Vitcos,’ he said, ‘but that is exactly why I wish to ask for the Coya Camaquen’s permission to send an advance party of two soldiers to the fortress, to warn the Emperor of your arrival.’

  ‘It’s unnecessary,’ protested Curi Ocllo, pouting. ‘His own sentinels will warn him. Anyway, it would be marvelous if I could surprise him!’

  She giggled, turned to Anamaya, and pleaded:

  ‘There’s no point wasting any more time, right?’

  ‘Officer,’ asked Anamaya, ‘do you think that it’s absolutely necessary to send scouts? The Coya is right: the Emperor’s sentries will warn him of our coming.’

  The escort’s commander, troubled, hesitated before bowing again and answering:

  ‘In truth, Coya Camaquen, I want to make sure that Emperor Manco is actually in the fortress.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’ cried Curi Ocllo. ‘We would know if he’d left it. He would have sent a messenger. Oh please, Anamaya, we’re so close!’

  ‘It would be stupid to take unnecessary risks,’ Anamaya said.

  Tears immediately welled up in Curi Ocllo’s black eyes. Anamaya couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s caprice.

  ‘Officer,’ she sighed, ‘send a scout with news of our arrival. But let us not linger here; we shall press on without waiting for his return.’

  Curi Ocllo, as uninhibited as a spoiled child, threw her arms around Anamaya’s neck and held her tight.

  ‘Thank you Anamaya, thank you! You can’t imagine how happy I shall be to be with Manco at last!’

  * * *

  The expedition was within two sling-stones’ throw of the fortress when the scout returned at a run. The officer halted the column again.

  ‘Coya Camaquen,’ he announced, ‘there’s no one there. Vitcos is empty.’

  ‘Empty?’

  Curi Ocllo cried out in despair.

  ‘The Emperor and his men seem to have left several days ago.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Perhaps there are Strangers in the area, Coya.’

  ‘In that case, officer,’ ordered Anamaya, ‘we mustn’t linger on the path. Let’s get to the fortress as quickly as we can. Since it’s empty, we can stay there and defend ourselves in it, if we have to.’

  When they passed through the bailey, they found that the buildings and courtyards were indeed empty.

  Anamaya and Curi Ocllo were worried. They stepped from their palanquin and walked across a perfectly square courtyard bordered by low buildings. The soldiers accompanied them as they made their way toward the
buildings facing the palace’s entrance. A narrow passage leading off at a right angle led them to the fortress’s most outlying point.

  The spot gave them a splendid view. The edifice here had been built on a rocky outcrop atop a steep slope that fell away to the river. It was a long, heavy structure, with a raised patio and fifteen magnificent doors with white granite lintels. The snow-covered peaks and slopes of the Apus towered around the place, which seemed to have an indestructible quality about it, as well as a curious serenity.

  ‘I don’t understand!’ cried Curi Ocllo, her voice breaking. ‘Why would Manco leave without sending even a chaski to meet us?’

  ‘It’s only a slight setback.’ Anamaya, staring at the forest on the surrounding slopes, tried to calm her. ‘Most likely he has retreated to the little fort at Machu Pucara.’

  ‘But why? Why didn’t he warn us?’

  ‘Perhaps the officer is right: the Strangers may be closer than we thought. We must be extremely careful. I’m going to send a messenger to Machu Pucara so that Manco can—’

  But just then terrifying howls erupted all around them, interrupting her. Anamaya’s group stood frozen with shock.

  They could see nothing at first, as though the cries had risen spontaneously from the landscape itself.

  And then the source of the noise came into view.

  A hundred, maybe two hundred warriors from the north. They wore the colors of Quito on their tunics and leather helmets on their heads. Holding their shields out in front of them, they surged forward from behind the long building where they had been hiding.

  They brandished bronze-headed clubs and axes and twirled their slings. Their spears were pointed forward menacingly.

  The officer commanding the escort for Anamaya and Curi Ocllo quickly yelled orders to his men. His handful of soldiers formed a futile barrier around the two women and held their spears out before them. But they had hardly taken up their position when a volley of sling stones whistled down upon them, killing two of them on the spot. Curi Ocllo’s scream rose above all the other sounds and seemed to intensify the assault’s ferocity.

  The fight was so quick and violent that Anamaya had no time to realize what was happening, much less to flee. The escort’s officer was the last to be killed, his skull split open with a studded club.

  Silence fell.

  The northern warriors surrounded the women. Curi Ocllo fell to her knees. The fighters looked at them blankly, and the young queen grabbed hold of Anamaya. The soldiers’ ranks parted, their shields clanging together, to allow someone through. A high-ranking Inca officer appeared. He wore fine ear-lobe plugs, a cape threaded with silver, and had a small fan of blue and gold feathers fixed to his helmet. His face was hard and bony, and his eyes looked unusually small and set well back in their sockets. Both women recognized him. Curi Ocllo jumped up and dashed toward him, crying:

  ‘Guaypar! Oh, Guaypar, my brother!’

  She collapsed at his feet, overcome with emotion. Guaypar stepped aside without even glancing at her trembling body. His well-defined lips curved in a thin smile. He came right up close to Anamaya, who simply looked at him with utter contempt.

  ‘We’ve been waiting for you, Coya Camaquen. To be honest, we came all the way here just for you.’

  ‘If that’s the case, your welcome was atrocious, Guaypar.’

  Guaypar’s smile broadened. Anamaya could see Curi Ocllo sobbing behind him. Soldiers were already binding her hands.

  ‘I don’t worry myself too much about blood relations, Anamaya. My sister disowned me a long time ago when she married Manco, that traitor and usurper—’

  ‘Know that my fate is tied to hers, Guaypar!’

  ‘That’s for me to decide, Coya Camaquen! But I’m sure you’ll understand my impatience. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long.’

  His eyes gleamed with arrogance and hatred and, for the first time in a long while, the twin venoms of doubt and fear coursed through Anamaya’s veins.

  * * *

  ‘Do you remember that night at Huamachuco? It was before the coming of the Strangers, when Emperor Atahualpa was waging war against Huascar the Mad.’

  Guaypar smiled as he asked the question. But his expression was somehow as icy as his tone of voice. Anamaya returned his smile and replied:

  ‘Yes, I remember.’

  She was half sitting, half squatting on the ground in one of the fortress’s smaller rooms in which Guaypar’s men had put her. They had tied her arms and legs to a heavy log, doing so without undue brutality but without respect for her rank either. The log dug into her back and forced her to maintain a twisted, uncomfortable position. All along her spine she felt a sharp pain and it was spreading through her shoulders too. Yet she forced herself to smile as she said again:

  ‘I remember. You had just been made a captain for having captured Huascar’s generals at the battle of Angoyacu.’

  A surprised look came into Guaypar’s dark eyes. Anamaya could see his chest rising as he breathed in deeply. He looked away from her, toward the patio where his troops were noisily settling themselves. A thousand questions sprang to Anamaya’s mind, but she held back from asking them, forcing Guaypar to spit out his long-harbored resentments.

  ‘That night, I told you that you were the most beautiful woman in all of Tahuantinsuyu. I told you that no other woman could boast half your beauty, and that no mouth or eyes could be compared to yours…’

  Although he stood firmly on his feet, looming over the bound Anamaya, Guaypar nevertheless seemed to be defending himself rather than dominating her. His ceremonial ax, made of silver and gold, trembled slightly in his hand. He was ashen-faced, as though the poison of his memories was polluting his flesh. He continued:

  ‘I gave you more than words: that night, I asked you to become my wife. You refused.’

  ‘If you remember that, then you also remember why,’ Anamaya replied quietly.

  Guaypar laughed bitterly and said:

  ‘Oh yes, the Sacred Double! You told me, “I can’t, because of the Sacred Double!” But now there isn’t a single Noble Lord in all the country who doesn’t know how the Coya Camaquen displays her fidelity to Emperor Huayna Capac’s Sacred Double by spreading her legs for a Stranger! A Stranger who disguises himself as an Indian and who is scorned by his own people as much as he is hated by ours! And if it weren’t for your protection, then—’

  Guaypar didn’t finish his sentence. But he made a slicing gesture through the air with his hand, showing what fate he had in mind for Gabriel.

  The pain in Anamaya’s back forced her to close her eyes for a moment and gather her thoughts. Outside, she could hear noises and shouts: more troops had arrived. When she opened her eyes again, she saw officers on the threshold of the room, waiting for Guaypar’s orders. But none of them dared interrupt him.

  ‘What do you want of me?’ she asked, trying to mask her agony.

  Guaypar paced the length of the room twice without answering, as if he hadn’t heard her question. The he stopped in his tracks, stared blankly at the activity outside, and said in a muted voice:

  ‘I said something else to you back then. Don’t you remember?’

  ‘You always said a lot, Guaypar. If you’re asking me what are my memories of your words I can sum them up in just one statement: yours were always words of hatred and violence, right from the beginning.’

  ‘No!’

  Guaypar’s rage twisted his features and startled the officers waiting just outside.

  ‘No!’ he cried again, squatting down to Anamaya’s level, ‘I loved you from the beginning. But you, Anamaya, you who were nothing, not even a princess with Inca blood, you who were just a girl from the forest – you rejected me time and again the better to seduce Atahualpa and Manco!’

  ‘So jealous for so long,’ sighed Anamaya, shaking her head. ‘Poor Guaypar. How can anyone live so long consumed by so much envy?’

  ‘I told you a long time ago, Anamaya! I couldn’t ha
ve forgotten you even if I had wanted to. Not one season, not one battle passed when I didn’t think of you! Every woman I’ve taken into my bed has only brought you to mind. I never once fought the Strangers without keeping an image of you in my head. And I always knew that this day would come, a day when I could at last make you suffer the same kind of torture that your contempt for me has caused me to endure!’

  Every inch of Guaypar’s face was tense with hostility, and his barely repressed violence made his words as heavy as stones. Moving with the deliberate slowness of a madman, a blank look in his eye and his lips quivering, he raised his hand to caress Anamaya’s cheek. Yet he didn’t touch her. He simply let his fingers hover just above her skin, and he moved them over her body from her hairline down to her breasts.

  ‘What do you want of me?’ whispered Anamaya with great difficulty.

  ‘First, I want to use you to catch Manco and kill him. Then it’ll be your turn. Then I’ll take Paullu’s place and become Emperor.’

  ‘You’re mad as well as stupid,’ murmured Anamaya, shutting her eyes. ‘You have no idea about the future. Your hatred is leading you to the Under World, and you will never return to your Powerful Ancestors.’

  ‘Nonsense, Coya Camaquen! I’ve never been duped by your impressive words, Anamaya. I don’t believe in your magic. Huayna Capac was too sick and senile to impart the slightest power to you. It was all a hoax invented by Atahualpa to dupe the Cuzco clans. And you made the most of it, didn’t you?’

  ‘What does it matter what you believe, Guaypar? You can kill me. You can weaken Manco, and maybe even defeat him. But don’t delude yourself into thinking that you can alter your own destiny, even less that of the Empire. You will never be Emperor. Inti has already decided what paths his sons shall take.’

  Anamaya stared into Guaypar’s eyes. Her blue gaze indicated nothing of the pain searing through her arms, back, and shoulders. Guaypar, nonplussed by her calm, stood up and moved away. His face had grown even grayer, and his eyes seemed to have retreated still further into their sockets.