The virgin of the sun

by George Chetwynd Griffith

During the last three years the young prince had borne arms almost constantly in the wars between Atahuallpa and Huascar, always, of course, under the banner of his own elder brother, than whom there could in his eyes be no other rightful heir to the throne of the Land of the Four Regions. In the stern school of battle and misfortune his body and his spirit had alike grown and strengthened, and now, in this hour of near approaching disaster, young as he was, there was no better warrior in any of the armies of the Sun than he, no head cooler to plan or quicker to execute, no soul stauncher or more steadfastly determined to fight out the battle with Destiny to the bitter end.

In a word, Manco-Capac, now the sole remaining prince of the pure and sacred Blood, was now also the last hope of the sore-afflicted Children of the Sun.

As for Nahua, it may be enough for the present to say that the years had more than fulfilled the bright promise of her early girlhood, for of all the Daughters of the Sun she was the fairest and sweetest, even as Manco, now her Lord as well as her lover, was the strongest and most gallant of his sons. Between them they represented all that was noblest and best in the splendid traditions of their Divine race, and from their long-promised and hoped-for union could alone spring a posterity worthy to carry those traditions on to the days of unborn generations.

The day before Manco had heard of the coming of the Spanish envoys, and had instantly determined on a course of action as bold as it was politic. Rumours of the death of Huascar at the hands of Atahuallpa’s agents had already reached the city, and as soon as he had learnt these terrible tidings he had marched all the regiments that remained to him out of the mountain fastnesses to the north-east, and taken formal possession of the capital.

The inhabitants and chief officials of the city had received him with the respect and enthusiasm which his rank and tried valour deserved. The great fortress of the Sacsahuaman, the wonderful gateway of Piquillacta, a colossal fortification extending from mountain to mountain across the south-western entrance to the valley, and all the other strong places commanding the few and difficult approaches to the city, had been joyfully entrusted to his keeping, and that morning he was to be proclaimed Regent and Protector of the realm, pending confirmation or disproof of the news of Huascar’s murder.

He had already given orders that the Spanish envoys were to be hospitably received and entertained in one of his own palaces outside the city until the formal act of proclamation should have authorised him to confer with them in the name of his people.

It would not be the first time that he had met the Strangers, for he was in Tumbez when the Spaniards landed there over three years before when they first set foot on the mainland. It had so happened also that, during one of their battles with the natives on the island of Puna in the Gulf of Tumbez, two of the Spaniards had been badly wounded and taken prisoners. These men had afterwards escaped on rafts and reached the mainland, and, after many wanderings, had found their way southward to the valley of Chimay, in which the great Temple of Pachacamac stands, and there Manco had met them and brought them back with him to Cuzco.

Here, in gratitude for the kindness they had received at his hands, they not only took infinite pains to teach him their language, which he now spoke with admirable grace and fluency, but had told him all they could of the weapons and tactics of the Spaniards, and had given him many valuable hints as to their methods of attack, their formation of the line-of-battle and many other things which were eagerly seized upon by his keen intellect to be made good use of when he came to drill his own regiments.

Later on the two Spaniards had gone with the Army of the South to war against the Usurper, but, unhappily for the fortunes of both Huascar and Manco, one had been killed in the first great battle of the war, and the other had been captured with the Inca, after which nothing had been heard of him.

Nahua and Manco had not met for several weeks before his sudden entry into the city, and this was their first meeting in private, for there was no one else in the great garden save a few slaves and attendants, none of whom would have dared on pain of his life to approach without being summoned within anything but the most respectful distance of the person of the prince, nor would have ventured even to so much as raise his eyes and look upon him without permission.