vilion behind and a little to the left of the chair on which I sat
where none could hear their talk save me, of whom he seemed to take no
note, perhaps because he had forgotten me, or perhaps because he desired
that I should know all.
"Daughter," he said in a low voice, "what word? Before you answer
remember that if I refuse to send you, now for the first time I break my
oath."
"Of such oaths I think little," answered Quilla. "Yet of another thing I
think much. Tell me, my father, if the Inca declares war and attacks us,
can we withstand his armies?"
"No, Daughter, not until the Yuncas join us for we lack sufficient
men. Moreover, we are not ready, nor shall be for another two moons, or
more."
"Then it stands thus, Father. If I do not go the war will begin, and
if I do go it seems that it will be staved off until you are ready, or
perhaps for always, because I shall be the peace-offering and it will be
thought that I, your heiress, take your kingdom as my marriage portion
to be joined to that of the Incas at your death. Is it thus?"
"It is, Quilla. Only then you will work to bring it about that the Land
of the Incas shall be joined to the Land of the Chancas, and not that of
the Chancas to that of the Incas, so that in a day to come as Queen of
the Chancas you shall reign over both of them and your children after
you."
Now I, Hubert, watching Quilla out of the corners of my eyes, saw her
turn pale and tremble.
"Speak not to me of children," she said, "for I think that there will be
none, and talk not of future glories, since for these I care nothing. It
is for our people that I care. You swear to me that if I do not go your
armies will be defeated and that those who escape the spear will be
enslaved?"
"Aye, I swear it by the Moon your mother, also that I will die with my
soldiers."
"Yet if I go I leave behind me that which I love," here she glanced
towards me, "and give myself to shame, which is worse than death. Is
that your desire, my father?"
"That is not my desire. Remember, Daughter, that you were party to this
plan, aye, that it sprang from your far-seeing mind. Still, now that
your heart has changed, I would not hold you to your bargain, who desire
most of all things to see you happy at my side. Choose, therefore, and I
obey. On your head be it."
"What shall I say, O Lord, whom I saved from the sea?" asked Quilla in a
piercing whisper, but without turning her head towards me.
Now an a
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