“Nay,” replied Kari firmly.  “As to the lady Quilla I promise nothing.  She has vowed herself to my Father the Sun, and what I have already told the Lord Hurachi here, who loves her I tell you.  Henceforward no man may look upon her, who is the Bride of the Sun, for if I suffered this, certainly the curse of the Sun would fall upon me and upon my people.  He who lays a hand upon her I will strive to slay”—­here he looked at me with meaning—­“because I must or be accurst.  Take all else, but let the lady Quilla be.  What the Sun has, he holds forever.”

“Perhaps the Moon, her mother, may have something to say in that matter,” said Huaracha gloomily.  “Still, let it lie for the while.”

Then they fell to discussing the terms of their alliance and, when it came to battle, what help Kari could bring from among those who clung to him in Cuzco.

After this Huaracha took me to another chamber, where we debated the business.

“This Kari, if he be Kari himself, is a bigot,” he said, “and if he has his way, neither you nor I will ever set eyes on Quilla again, because to him it is sacrilege.  So, what say you?”

I answered that it would be best to make an alliance with Kari, whom I knew to be honest and no Pretender, since without his help I did not think that it would be possible to defeat the armies of the People of the Incas.  For the rest, we must trust to chance, making no promises as to Quilla.

“If we did they would avail little,” said Huaracha, “seeing that without doubt she is dead and only vengeance remains to us.  There is more poison in Cuzco, White Lord!”

Eight days later we were marching on Cuzco, a great host of us, numbering at least forty thousand Chancas and twenty-five thousand of the rebellious Yuncas, who had joined our standard.

On we marched by the great road over mountains and across plains, driving with us numberless herds of the native sheep for food, but meeting no man, since so soon as we were out of the territory of the Chancas all fled at our approach.  At length one night we camped upon a hill named Carmenca and saw beneath us at a distance the mighty city of Cuzco standing in a valley through which a river ran.  There it was with its huge fortresses built of great blocks of stone, its temples, its palaces, its open squares, and its countless streets bordered by low houses.  Moreover, beyond and around it we saw other things, namely, the camps of a vast army dotted with thousands of white tents.

“Urco is ready for us,” said Kari to me grimly as he pointed to these tents.

We camped upon the hill Carmenca and that night there came to us an embassy which spoke in the names of Upanqui and Urco, as though they reigned jointly.  This embassy of great lords who all wore discs of gold in their ears asked us what was our purpose.  Huaracha answered—­to avenge the murder of the lady Quilla, his daughter, that he heard had been poisoned by Urco.