The Romance of Golden Star ...

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Behind those mighty, rock-built ramparts lay the well-loved,
well-remembered land over which my fathers had ruled in the days of
peace, before the stranger and the oppressor had come. On the other side
of them I knew that I was now fated to find only the poor fragments of
the great cities and stately pleasure-houses that I had known in all
their strength and beauty--only the silent and deserted ruins of the
mighty fortresses which had guarded the confines of our lost empire, and
were the portals through which the Children of the Sun had marched to
unvarying conquest.

I thought, too, of the broad, green, level plain of Cajamarca,
surrounded by its guardian ramparts of terraced hills; of the long,
verdant valley of Cuzco with its hundred towns and villages nestling
amidst the foliage which shaded their streets and squares, and looking
out over the level fields of the valley and the countless tiers of
terraces that rose green and gold with maize, or glowing with flowers,
to the summits of the hills; and of that earthly paradise of Yucay,
wherein the Gardens of the Sun, the golden shrines of my ancient faith,
and the wondrous pleasure-palaces of many generations of Incas had
glowed in almost heavenly beauty, embosomed in green and gold and
scarlet in the midst of inaccessible mountains which themselves were
overtopped by the mighty peaks of eternal snow that I had so often seen
glimmering white and ghostly in the moonlight, like guardian spirits
round an enchanted realm, on many a night of delicious revelry now far
past and lost in the swift flood of the years that had rolled by since
then.

It was to the poor remnants of all these glories that I was
returning--returning to find, as they had told me, the homes of my
ancestors laid waste and the descendants of my people the slaves of
strangers. The desolation which it had taken centuries to accomplish
would be to me but the swift, magical change of a day and a night and a
morning.

Think, you who read, of the dread and the horror of it! I had seen the
last day of the stately empire of my fathers the Incas! I had fallen
asleep and I had awakened, and now, on the morrow of my sleep, I was
coming back to the silent and ghastly ruins which the slow, pitiless
work of the years and centuries had left behind it!

But over the gulf of these same centuries the hand of my Father the Sun
was swiftly stretched out to help and uphold me, for no sooner did I
again tread that soil which had once been sacred to Him, than my
fainting heart grew strong with the memory of that ancient prophecy
which I had come to fulfil, and of which this new life of mine was of
itself a part fulfilment. If one part, and that not the least, had
already been made good, then why not the rest?

Far away behind those towering tiers of mountains lay Golden Star in
that resting-place to which she had been borne with me, sleeping soundly
in the impassive embrace of their mighty arms; and within the
safe-keeping of those arms lay, too, that uncounted treasure, that vast
legacy which the long-dead leaders of my people had bequeathed to me for
the sacred purpose of restoring those glories which all men, save
myself, believed to be but a dream of the distant past, that
incomparable inheritance of which I was the sole lawful heir on earth,
and which I was coming to share with Golden Star when I had once more
raised the Rainbow Banner above the restored throne of the divine Manco.

As I thought of all this, the blood that had lain stagnant through the
long years of my magical death-sleep began to pulse like living fire
through my veins. My new life with all its marvels became glorified into
a waking vision of new conquests and re-won empire. The past was a dream
both sweet and bitter in its vivid memories, but still a dream that had
been dreamt and was done with. The present and the future were
realities, golden and glorious with a hope justified by the miracle that
had made them possible. I had learnt enough of the new age in which I
had awakened to know that the lust of gold which had brought the
conqueror and the oppressor into the land of the Children of the Sun
burnt every whit as fiercely in the hearts of the men who were living
now as it had done in theirs, and that lust, as I had told Hartness and
the others, should now work for me and for the redemption of my people
so that that which had been their ruin should yet prove their salvation.

Thus, through the long sunny days and cool, starlit nights did I,
Vilcaroya, last of the Incas, muse and dream until I once more stood in
the Land of the Four Regions, hale and strong, and burning with the
ardour of my sacred mission, ready to dare and do all things, and to use
without ruth or scruple that dread power which would so soon lie within
my hands to fulfil my oath and Golden Star's, and to accomplish the work
that I had come through the shadows of death to do.

So I came back to the shores of that well-loved land of mine which, by
the reckoning of the new time into which I had come, had been for more
than three hundred years the sport and prey of the generations of
strangers and oppressors who had followed those first conquerors of the
Children of the Sun, whose coming had sounded the hour of doom and ruin
through the length and breadth of that glorious land of green plains and
verdant valleys, of terraced hills and towering mountains, which had
once been our empire and our home.

From the mean coast town of wooden houses where the railway begins we
travelled ever upward over great, grey, sloping deserts, and by rugged
ravines with steep, broken walls of red earth and ragged rock; through
range after range of mountains that were all strange and hateful to me,
until we swung round the shoulder of a great crag-crowned mountain, and
I saw across a vast plain, into which range after range of lesser hills
sloped down, the crystal-white peaks of the snow-mountains towering far
beyond the clouds into the blue sky above them.

Then I knew that I was coming nearer to the land that had once been
mine, and ere many hours had passed we stopped in a great city which
still bore its old name of Arequipa, the Place of Rest, which my own
ancestors had given to it. It was no longer the place of palaces and
pleasure-houses, of flowery gardens and leafy woods that I had seen it,
but above it still gleamed the white snow-fields and shining peaks of
Charchani and Pichu-Pichu, and between the two great white ranges still
towered the vast, black, snow-crowned cone of Misti, the smoke-mountain,
rising sheer in its lonely grandeur twelve thousand feet above the
sloping plain on which the city lay.

As I looked at it again for the first time after so many years, I asked
the professor, as we all called him, if, since I had been asleep, the
mountain had been rent asunder again as it had been in the olden times,
long before the Spaniards came to seek gold and blood in the Land of the
Four Regions. He was very learned in such matters, even as Djama, his
friend, was learned in secrets of life and death, and when he told me
that the fires within it had slept for more years than men could
remember, I was glad. Yet I said nothing of my inward joy, for had I
told them all that I knew about the valley of black sand and yellow rock
that was hidden behind the far-off wall of snow which shone so whitely
against the blue of the midway heaven, it might have been many a long
day before we had again set out on our journey towards the place that
was the goal at once of my hopes and fears.

We stayed seven days in Arequipa, making our last preparations for the
work that lay before us and then we went on again by train to Sicuani,
in the valley of the Vilcanota. Then from Sicuani we journeyed on by
road, riding on mules through a land that was lovely even in my eyes,
though its loveliness was to me only the beauty of ruin and decay, for
this was the heart and centre of that vanished empire whose glories no
living eyes but mine had ever seen.

I saw wildernesses where there had been gardens, and gaunt, treeless
mountains lying bare to the glare of the sun. Lakes that had shone
encircled with gardens now spread out dull and stagnant over the
neglected fields. A few ragged fragments of grey clay walls still rose
from the green plain of Cacha, where I had last seen, in all its glory
of gold and rainbow colours, the holy Temple of Viracocha; and the great
guardian fortress of Piquillacta, which I had seen stretching its
impregnable length and rearing its unscalable height from mountain to
mountain across the entrance to the once lovely valley of Cuzco, lay, a
huge ragged mass of towering ruins, splendid even in decay.

As we passed through the one half-choked portal that still lay open, I
thought, with heavy heart and bowed-down head, of the great fortress as
I had seen it in the glory of its pride and strength, of the gallant
warriors that had defended it, and the gay processions that I had seen
winding in and out of its stately gates, making its hoary walls ring
with songs and laughter, and, farther on, as we rode along the valley on
that sad and yet eager three days' march of ours, I saw, on the
hill-spurs about me, the black and ragged ruins of the fair cities and
stately temples and palaces that I had seen crowded with happy throngs,
bright with gold and colours, and so fair and strong that no man could
have dreamed of the ruin the oppressor had brought upon them.

And so, journeying amidst all these sad memories through a land which,
for me, was peopled with the ghosts of my long-dead friends and kindred,
we came out at length on the broad, green Plain of the Oracle, and there
before me, still nestling under her guardian hills, lay, glimmering
white and grey under the slanting sun-rays, all that was left of what
had once been Cuzco, the City of the Sun and the home of his children.
Then, as I lifted my eyes and gazed upon it through the rising mist of
my tears, I bowed my bared head towards it and swore, in the sadness and
silence of my desolate heart, that, to the full extent of the power
which I believed was soon to be mine, I would take life for life and
blood for blood, and I would give sorrow for sorrow and shame for shame,
until I had paid to the full the debt which the long years of plunder
and cruelty and oppression had heaped up against those who, from
generation to generation, had brought this shame and ruin on the once
bright home of the Children of the Sun.

CHAPTER II

BROTHERS OF THE BLOOD

I shall not weary you who perchance may some day read this story of mine
by dwelling on the sorrow and shame that filled me as I entered the
foul, unlovely streets, and saw the filthy refuse in the squares of the
city that I remembered so pure and bright and beautiful; nor yet by
telling of the feelings that possessed me when I saw the poor remains of
our desecrated temples, the places where our vanished palaces had stood,
and the dismantled ruins of that mighty fortress of Sacsahuaman, which I
had last seen standing palace-crowned and throned in all its grandeur
high up above the city.

All this and more you who read must picture for yourselves, for I have
greater things to tell of than the poor sorrows of a wanderer who had
left his own age and his own kindred far behind him, and who had come
back into a strange world to find his country a wilderness, and the
children of his people the slaves of strangers.

It had been settled amongst us that, for the purpose for which we had
come, it would be necessary to hire a house that should be at once
commodious for our work, sufficiently removed from the city for privacy,
and capable of defence against intruders if need be. The professor,
being already known in Cuzco as a man of science and seeker after
antiquities, and possessing, moreover, a special permit from the
Government in Lima to travel and dwell in the interior, and make such
searches as he thought fit, undertook the business of finding such a
house. He made many journeys in quest of what he sought, and on these
journeys Djama always accompanied him, since he had to see that the
house chosen contained a chamber suitable for that precious work which
he had undertaken to do in return for the share of treasure that I was
to give to him.

And while these two were absent I at times wandered about the city with
Joyful Star and Francis Hartness, who, it was plain to see, already
looked with eyes of love and longing on her beauty, as in good truth I
myself could have done had I dared, and could I have forgotten that
older love of mine who still lay cold in her death-sleep in the cave by
the lake yonder, over the mountains to the westward, whither I had
already cast so many longing glances. But at other times I left them to
go upon my own ways, for I had work on hand which, for the present, did
not concern them.

I had by this time met and conversed with many of my people in their own
language, which was that of the labouring classes of my own times, and
from them I had learned that at a village called San Sebastian, through
which we had passed, about two leagues to the south of the city, there
still dwelt many families of Ayllos--that is to say, the descendants of
those of the old noble Inca lineage, who had been permitted by their
conquerors to settle here. So one morning I went to visit an old
Indian--as they now called all our people--named Ullullo, with whom I
had made acquaintance, and at his house I dressed myself in the native
fashion--in an old shirt and short trousers, with sandals on my feet,
and a broad-brimmed, fringed hat on my head, and covered myself with a
faded poncho, and together we went on foot to San Sebastian, I looking
no different from the rest of the Indians who were passing to and fro
upon the road.

I had already seen, while riding through the village, that the people
were different to those of all other villages that we had come through
on the way. They were taller of stature, prouder of carriage, and
fairer of face. The blood showed red in their cheeks through the light
brown of their skin, and these signs had told me that if any remnant of
the pure Inca race was left these must be they; and I was soon to have
proof that it was so, although the children of those who had lived in
palaces were now dwelling in huts of mud and reeds.

Ullullo led me first to the house of a man named Tupac Rayca, who was
chief among the Indians of the town. He was great-grandson of that
ill-fated Tupac-Amaru, who, as you know, had revolted many years before
against the oppressors of his race, and for this, after being forced to
watch the torture and murder of his wife in the square of Cuzco, had
himself been torn limb from limb by horses.

We found him alone in a bare room in one of the better houses of the
village. As he stood up to salute us it needed but a glance to tell me
that in his veins at least the ancient blood of our race flowed well
nigh as purely as it did in my own. Had it not been for the meanness of
his clothing and the dull, brooding look on his noble features--the
stamp of generations of oppression--I could have pictured him with the
yellow Llautu[A] on his brow, the golden image of the Sun on his
girdled tunic, and the rainbow banner in his hand, standing amongst the
guards of the great Huayna-Capac himself.

I asked Ullullo to leave us alone for a little while, and when he had
gone I stepped forward, and, drawing myself up to my full height, I
looked him in the eyes, and said in the tongue that was spoken only by
those of the divine Inca race,--

'Tell me, Tupac-Rayca, does a remnant of the Children of the Sun still
dwell in the Land of the Four Regions, and are they still faithful to
the traditions of their race, and the faith of their ancestors?'

As the words left my lips he staggered back a pace or two with his hands
clasped to his forehead, staring at me from under them as though--as in
very truth I was--some spirit of the past stood re-embodied before him.
Then, coming forward again and scanning me eagerly from head to foot, he
whispered in the same tongue--by the Lord of Light how those familiar
accents thrilled my ears as I heard them again after so long!

'Who are you--a stranger--that comes in the image of those long dead, to
ask me such a question in the tongue that may only be spoken when none
save those of the Blood are present?'

'One who is of the Blood himself!' I answered, taking a stride towards
him, and stretching out my hand. 'Fear not, Tupac-Rayca, son of him that
suffered, I am a friend, and have come from afar to work as a friend
with you and others of the Blood that may still be left in the land,
with a great and holy purpose of which you shall know ere long.'

He grasped my hand and bowed over it in silence for a while. Then he
stepped back and looked at me again, murmuring,--

'Can it be so? Has the divine Manco come back from the Mansions of the
Sun to save the remnant of his children, or has Vilcaroya broken the
bonds of his death-sleep and come to fulfil the oath he swore with
Golden Star before the altar in the Sanctuary? I know all the Children
of the Blood that are left in the land, and I have never seen your face
before, yet you are of the Blood. Who are you--Lord?'

The last word seemed forced from his lips by some power other than his
own will, and it sounded most pleasant to me, for it told me that,
without knowing my name, and seeing me only as a stranger, he had
recognised the stamp of my divine ancestry, and this promised well for
the progress of the work I had in hand. I answered him kindly, and yet
as one speaking to another who is scarce his equal, and said,--

'My name matters not now or here, Tupac, for we are but two, and I
might lie to you, and you would have no proof of my truth or falsehood.
But if you will do as I bid you, to-night you shall know and all shall
be made plain and with ample proof. Are you willing to give me your
aid?'

He picked up a rude hoe that stood in a corner of the room, and laying
it across his shoulder after the manner of one who bears a burden, bowed
his head and answered,--

'The Son of the Sun has but to speak, and I and all his slaves will
obey.'

What he had done was an act of homage, which, in the olden time, was
paid only to him who wore the imperial Llautu, and proved to me how
faithfully the old traditions had been preserved in secret.

'That is well said, Tupac,' I replied, speaking now as a sovereign might
speak to a faithful subject, 'and in the days to come fear not that I
shall forget this, your first act of unasked-for homage. Now, hear me.
Are there twenty men of the Blood in this village--men who are faithful
and can be trusted even to the death?'

'There are five hundred here, Lord, and as many thousands within the
valley, whose blood has flowed pure from the olden times, unpolluted by
a single stain of Spanish dirt. What would you with them?'

'I asked not for hundreds or thousands,' I said, right glad at heart to
hear such good tidings. 'For the present I need but a score, so do you
choose me twenty of the noblest blood and the best judgment, and an hour
before midnight let them be with you on the plain behind the
Sacsahuaman. Let them come well provided with torches or candles, and
tools, levers, and hammers and spades. Tell them what has passed between
us, but nothing of the guesses that you may have made in your own mind
while we have been talking, and leave the rest to me. Can you do that?'

'It shall be done, Lord,' he answered, still bending before me with the
shaft of the hoe across his shoulders, 'and we will wait and toil in
patience till the Son of the Sun shall please to reveal himself to the
eyes of his servants.'

'Nor shall you have to wait long,' I said. 'Now put that off your back
and take my hand again, for we are not Inca and servant yet, only two
men of the Blood, and brothers of a fallen race who are joined together
to perform a holy work. Now farewell, Tupac, till to-night. Choose your
companions well, and fear not but that your services and your
faithfulness shall have their due reward.'

He put his hand humbly and tremblingly into mine, bowing low over it,
and so I left him, standing there with bent head, not daring to look up
until the door closed behind me. Then Ullullo and I went back into the
city, and as we crossed the great square on our way to Ullullo's house,
I saw my four English friends standing among the market people by the
fountain in the centre. We passed close to them, and I heard my name
spoken by Joyful Star to her brother, who answered her and said,--

'I daresay we shall find he is making friends again with some of these
filthy Indian compatriots of his.'

I hated him from that moment for his bitter words, and swore in my heart
that some day he should pay for them, for I loved my people, and pitied
them in their misery and degradation. I stopped beside them, and my
heart was beating hard as I listened for what Joyful Star would say, and
I have remembered her words, even as I have remembered his. She looked
at him with the light of anger in her eyes and said,--

'For shame, Laurens! I couldn't have believed that you would have said
such a thing. If you belonged to a race that had been enslaved and
plundered by these brutes of Spaniards and Peruvians for three centuries
and a half, do you think you would be any better than these poor
fellows? And, besides, whatever they are, they are Vilcaroya's people,
and he is our friend.'

I could have fallen on the stones and kissed her feet for those sweet
words of hers, and I moved away quickly for fear I should betray myself,
and went with a swelling heart and mingled tears of love and anger in my
eyes to old Ullullo's house, where I changed my clothes again, and then,
as it was nearly dinner time, which, as you know, is in the evening in
Spanish countries, I went back to the house where we were lodging,
wondering what they would think if they could have understood the words
that had passed between Tupac-Rayca and myself.

When I met them again I saw that they would willingly have learned what
had become of me during the day, but I answered their inquiries by
telling them nothing more and yet a great deal less than the truth, and
saying that I had spent the day revisiting old scenes, and learning what
I could of the present condition of my people. This satisfied them
outwardly at least, though I saw a look in Djama's eyes which told me
that he suspected more of the truth than it suited my purpose to tell
him.

Then our conversation turned to the matter of procuring a house, such as
I have spoken of, and the professor told me that he had heard of a
hacienda, well built and solid, and standing in its own domain, about
three leagues across the valley to the westward, on a secluded little
plain among the hills, which would serve our purpose excellently; but
the owner of it wished to sell it, and 'with the stupidity of these
Peruvians,' as he said, would not hire it out to us but would only sell
it, and the price was twenty thousand soles, or dollars of Peru, which
was two thousand pounds in English money.

'It is a great pity,' said the professor, when he had finished telling
me about it, 'for it doesn't seem as though there was another house in
the neighbourhood of Cuzco that would suit our purpose, and this one
would do perfectly.'

'Of course, if the fellow won't let it there's no use thinking any more
about the matter, for two thousand pounds is entirely out of the
question. It seems to me that the expedition will be quite expensive
enough without the luxury of buying houses at fancy prices.'

It was Djama who spoke. No one else at our table could have spoken like
that. I heard him in silence, for I could not trust myself to speak for
the anger that was rising within me. I saw Joyful Star raise her eyelids
and look at him with a swift glance that meant much; but she, too, said
nothing; and then, looking at me, he spoke again and said,--

'Of course, if His Highness'--for so he always spoke of me when no
strangers were present--'would just unlock one of those treasure-houses
of his, the matter would be easy enough, but I suppose that's outside
the contract.'

I still kept silence, knowing as I did what the night was to bring
forth. But Francis Hartness answered for me, and said,--

'I don't think you can quite put it that way, Djama, if you'll excuse me
saying so. If I am not mistaken, it has been clearly understood that the
first treasure-house to be unlocked is the one that holds Vilcaroya's
greatest treasure--his wife--and what you say seems to suggest--'

'It is enough!' I said, unconsciously speaking in my growing anger in
the same imperious tone that I had used but a few hours before to Tupac.
'Let the house be bought. I will charge myself with the cost, and I will
be the debtor of my friends no longer.'

They stared at me as I spoke, for hitherto I had spoken to them as a
child rather than as a man; as an inferior, rather than as an equal. I
saw a smile that was not pleasant to look upon pass swiftly over Djama's
mouth, but he kept silence, and the professor said to me,--

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