“Ay! well mayst thou shrink and cover thy shameful face in the presence of the majesty which thine impious daring has outraged—thou who wouldst plead for a traitor and his accursed brood! Dost thou think that so poor a device will avail thee? Didst thou hope to entrap thy lord and master in his own words, and make him a liar and a destroyer of his own justice, a breaker of the laws that have never been broken? Thy sin is as great as his whom thou wouldst save, and the sacred blood in thy veins shall not save thee from the penalty.
“Yet I know the cause of thy madness, for thou art sick of love, and thinkest that thy Nahua is too dainty a morsel for the flames. Aye, thou lovest one of this accursed brood. I had forgotten that, though of itself it is a sin that stains the purity of thy blood and befouls the honour of thy race.
“Now, brother, I will give thee a boon, as I said I would—nothing less than the means of purging thyself of this pollution. Thou shalt choose between lighting the fagots with thine own hand or standing with thy Nahua in the midst of them. So shalt thou live, cleansed from thy dishonour, or the flames shall purge it for thee. Now go! I want no answer yet. When the guilty stand in the place of judgment it will be time enough for thee to speak. Then I will hear thy choice.”
With a wave of his hand Atahuallpa dismissed him. All the sense that his despot brother’s pitiless words had left him told him that remonstrance would be in vain, so he rose to his feet and, with a last look of silent appeal in the face of the Inca, now calm and passionless as that of a statue, he went back to where he had been standing, meeting on the way a look from the deep, dark eyes of the queen-mother as fierce and threatening as that which he had seen in those of the Inca’s, and then being stopped by a hand laid upon his arm. He looked round and saw the kindly eyes and grim features of Quiz-Quiz, his great-uncle, a noble of the purest blood, and, next to Challcuchima, or, as some said, equal with him, the greatest warrior in the North and South.
“Nephew,” he said, “I have heard what has passed yonder before the throne of our Lord. Come with me into the palace, for you need counsel, and an old head may advise better than a young heart in such a strait as this.”
“I have already chosen, my uncle!” Manco answered shortly but respectfully.
“Ay, that I could have guessed,” said the old warrior. “Nevertheless, it may be that I can change your resolve without hurting either your love or your honour. So come and let me tell you my thoughts. They will not harm you even if they do not please you.”
So saying, he took him by the arm and led him into one of the rooms which were set apart for his use in the palace, and there he talked long and earnestly with him, and when they came out together on to the terrace again Manco’s resolve was changed, as Quiz-Quiz had said. There was also a flush on his cheeks and a brighter light in his eyes, and his carriage was that of one who has taken a high and solemn resolve.
Hour after hour passed for him in suspense, that was all the more agonising because it was also utterly inactive. He could do nothing but wait until the moment of his fate came—nothing but watch the long line of petitioners coming and going at the foot of the throne, but the end came at last.
The last of the petitioners had been dismissed, and the Inca clapped his hands thrice. Challcuchima, laying his spear across his shoulders, strode forward to obey the summons. The Inca spoke a few words to him in a low tone, and then Manco, his heart fluttering in the clutch of a deadly horror, saw the general make a signal to an officer at the head of a file of soldiers drawn up on the square facing the throne. Like machines they fell into a new formation and marched four abreast, with spears sloped over their shoulders, towards a long, low, heavily built building which formed nearly half of one side of the square.