“Do my own ears hear the White-God-from-the-Sea call me sweet and lovely as the moon? If so, I thank him, and pray him to remember that the perfect and lovely are always chosen to be the sacrifice of gods.”
“But, Quilla, the sacrifice may be all in vain. How long will you hold the fancy of this loose-living prince?”
“Long enough to serve my purpose, Lord—or, at least,” she added with flashing eyes, “long enough to kill him if he will not go my country’s road. Oh! ask me no more, for your words stir something in my breast, a new spirit of which I never dreamed. Had I heard them but three moons gone, it might have been otherwise. Why did you not appear sooner from the sea, my lord Hurachi, be you god or man?”
Then, with something like a sob, she rose, made obeisance, and fled away.
That evening, when we were alone in my chamber where none could hear us, I told Kari that Quilla was promised in marriage to a prince who would be Inca of all the land.
“Is it so?” said Kari. “Well, learn, Master, that this prince is my brother, he whom I hate, he who has done me bitter wrong, he who stole away my wife and poisoned me. Urco is his name. Does this lady Quilla love him?”
“I think not. I think that like you she hates him, yet will marry him for reasons of policy.”
“Doubtless she hates him now, whatever she did a week ago,” said Kari in a dry voice. “But what fruit will this tree bear? Master, are you minded to come with me to-morrow to visit the temple of Pachacamac in the inner sanctuary of which sits the god Rimac who speaks oracles?”
“For what purpose, Kari?” I answered moodily.
“That we may hear oracles, Master. I think that if you choose to go the lady Quilla would come with us, since perhaps she would like also to hear oracles.”