[1] Palla = married woman of the blood-royal.
"Oh! Is it so, Mati?" cried Rava, eagerly. "Then, Viracocha Cristoval, it will be ours. The Palla Maytalca is a kinswoman and was one of my royal father's household. In my childhood I loved her well. We shall be most welcome. Mati, do thou go forward and prepare her for our coming."
The youth dropped to the ground again, rose, and backed away for a dozen yards, then turned and sped down the trail. They followed, and the path shortly entered a lane between rows of willows around the margin of the lake. Night was coming rapidly, and it was almost dark when they arrived at the gateway of the villa. Mati met them, and Rava having dismounted, Cristoval removed his helmet, tethered his horse, and they followed the herdsman down an avenue of trees toward the residence. It was a rambling building, or a group of several, and of a size comporting with the rank of its occupant. As they drew near torches flashed toward them, and they were presently met by the Palla Maytalca, advancing with perturbation, attended by excited young women and torch-bearers. Rava uttered a cry of joy and threw herself into the Palla's arms, and the two mingled their broken exclamations of delight. Cristoval halted a few paces back.
"Rava, Rava, my best beloved!" at last exclaimed the Palla, holding the girl at arm's length, surveying her in surprise and fondness. "I cannot believe it is thou. Hast come from the clouds? By what miracle of the great Inti art thou here?"
"Oh, I hardly know, dearest Maytalca!" answered Rava, smiling and sobbing, "and can make it seem real no more easily than thou. Nor can I tell thee the thousand perils in our coming. Had it not been for the bravest and best of friends—oh, Viracocha Cristoval, I pray you come nearer!—This is he, Maytalca: my deliverer and defender—the Viracocha Cristoval."
The lady started as his grim, warlike figure clanked out of the obscurity and the light fell upon his steel. Observing her trepidation the cavalier halted, saying as he bowed: "Palla Maytalca, you do not know my joy in seeing the Ñusta Rava at last in safety, and in witnessing her affectionate welcome."
His voice and manner were reassuring, and she conquered her fears sufficiently to extend a trembling hand and say, timidly: "One who hath befriended the Ñusta Rava, Viracocha, hath no need to be assured of a welcome to the home of Maytalca. It is yours."
"Be sure of my gratitude," said Cristoval, as with Rava he followed their hostess to the villa. As the Princess passed, the kneeling attendants rose and went after, dumb with awe of the royal maiden and her mysterious companion.
The Palla led across a terrace into a large hall, brightly lighted and strewn with rugs. A pair of braziers were burning, for the evening was growing chill, and Rava was soon established among the cushions of a divan, giving a hurried though unconnected narrative of her late adventures to the wondering Maytalca. The Palla, who, as her title indicated, was of royal blood, though not of the reigning family, was the widow of one of the princes of the realm. She was a stately woman, just past middle age, with hair slightly touched with gray, and robed in the rich costume of the women of the nobility. Her bearing was that of a gentlewoman, and whatever disquietude she felt at her steel-clad guest it was effectually concealed. As a matter of fact he gave an impression of formidableness with his rust-streaked armor, his half-grown beard, eyes burning in sockets made deep by hardship, and cheeks hollowed by the recent toil and hunger, which his gentle comportment could only half dispel. When he excused himself some minutes later and left the room with a servant to look after his horse, the Palla turned to Rava and seized her hands.
"Rava, my child," she exclaimed, in a low voice, "how hadst thou courage to trust thyself with that terrible-appearing man? I tremble to look at him! I shall never sleep while he is beneath the shelter of this roof."