CHAPTER 9
The Quipu
"Ready lad?" asked Paddy sitting sipping his tea.
"I'm ready."
Paddy pushed the helmet onto his head.
The scene in the mirror was of the jungle, dawn was breaking and a heavy rain beat down upon the myriads of leaves and plants which filled the screen before them.
"'ave a nosey around, there must be sommat 'ere."
Davey scanned back and forth, they saw only jungle.
"Yer could hide an army in that lot and we wouldn't know it."
Davey sat back onto the bed. The view they saw altered as though they had moved further away, they were able to take in more of the scene but saw less detail.
"See what happened then Uncle Paddy!"
"Move in closer!"
Davey sat slightly nearer to the mirror, they were able to move forwards through the undergrowth, penetrating the thickest cover, parting the densest vegetation.
"Something's in there!" Davey cried peering forwards.
Men sat huddled together shivering in fear as much as from the cold, their frightened eyes peered from deep within the thicket upon the cold light of the new day. One man cupped his hands and put the back of his thumbs to his mouth, he blew the call of a shriek owl, the sound echoed out and mingled with the cries of the other jungle creatures. His call was answered, "It must be Chichen," he whispered turning to the two other men who shared his hiding-place. Other calls sounded. Dithering they left their places of concealment and joined together.
"My family are all dead. There is nothing for us back there," said one of the men.
"My wife and child are taken by the Gods. They will surely die," said another.
"We must never return," said a third, "they will be waiting for us."
"These poor fellers are from the village."
"What's that, over there!" Davey exclaimed turning his head.
"What was what, what did yer see?"
"Something moved, in the long grassy stuff."
"There's nothing there lad, yer must 'ave imagined it."
Davey moved nearer to the mirror, the smallest parts of the picture were shown to them.
Davey pointed, "Look there. See him!"
A warrior, dressed for war, was creeping stealthily into position. He wore a fierce animal mask and the skin of the jaguar. In one hand he held a vicious club with a number of glassy spikes set into its length, in the other hand was a brightly coloured shield. As he turned his face could be seen, it was painted with such stark colours it sent a shiver down Davey's back.
"Look, there's another!" said Paddy.
Davey searched through the grass, each time they spotted a warrior Paddy cried out, "There's one!" Each warrior carried club and feathered shield, some also carried long thin blow-pipes. All blended into their surroundings as if invisible. "Those fellers from the village are getting surrounded, this lot are going to finish them off!"
The tiniest movement from the leader of the warriors sent his men into position, gradually they crept nearer and nearer to their quarry. A hand signal caused hands to tighten on clubs as they bunched their legs beneath their bodies ready for the final dash to close quarters. One man inserted a thin dart into his blow-pipe then raised it to his lips. He lined it up, drew a breath then puffed. The dart flew into the side of a villagers neck. The man collapsed instantly. As the others began to scatter the leader of the warriors suddenly stood up.
He was a tall, powerfully built man, upon his head he wore a splendid head-dress of eagle feathers. The ground around him seemed to come alive as twelve more warriors rose to their feet. "YAU!" the warrior shouted, AStay where you are!@ The voice had such a commanding quality to it that the villagers hesitated long enough to recognise the greeting. The man shouted once more, "It is I! Lord Axa!@
Yau!" cried the men as they ran to their chieftain. They recognised two more of his warriors but in their shock and fear they sought only to yell out their own stories.
"Silence," said the warrior, holding up a hand, the muscles in his arm were finely toned, each looked as if was sculpted from stone. He turned to one of his men and asked him, AWhat was the strength of the poison Edzna?@
AHe will waken my Lord,@ replied the warrior.
Lord Axa nodded, then pointing at Chichen said firmly, "Speak, I wish to know what has happened, why you are in hiding and what has made you so afraid."
The man bowed to him then began talking quickly in a distressed voice. "My Lord, yesterday the gods themselves came into our village and punished us for our wickedness. All our families are slain, everyone is slain except those you see standing here. Nothing can stand against them, they are without mercy."
"These gods you speak of, what did they look like?" questioned the warrior.
"My Lord, they are terrifying to behold. They wear skins of shining metal so bright it hurt the eyes to look upon them," as he spoke he looked at his friends for help.
One man said, "Their flesh was as white as freshly fallen snow."
Another added, "They held sticks of thunder and monstrous beasts carried them like the wind."
The second man to have spoken showed a deep gash to his arm, "Their weapons slice through flesh and bone like a hand slices through water."
Lord Axa again held up his hand for silence, thinking out loud he said, "The return of the gods has long been foretold but if what you speak is true they bring a far harsher punishment than even the Shaman...."
A warrior interrupted, "My Lord Axa, the Lady Axa and your children are in Sit-Nalta where they are protected by the Shaman."
Lord Axa nodded towards him, "I hear you Hochob.@ He turned to his men, AGods or not they shall learn the power of the Inca warrior.@ The warriors raised their clubs in answer.
"At last, someone with a bit of backbone, these boyos will given them Spanish a run for their
money."
A man from the village begged, "My Lord, we seek your help, we have lost everything and need your guidance, what should we do?"
Axa replied instantly, "Join us and fight like men, not like the frightened dogs who run yelping at the first sign of the jaguar. You cannot bring back your loved ones but you can avenge them."
None of the men moved. They fidgeted a little but remained where they were. "Huh!" exclaimed the warrior seeing the men had no mind to fight. He led his warriors a short distance away. They scanned the area with half-closed eyes as if choosing the best ground then squatted down resting their strong forearms on their clubs. Some wore the skin of the jaguar; great canine teeth curved low over their foreheads glinting in the morning sun, others wore feathers from the eagle and the condor. Only Axa wore an eagle head-dress, a ceramic disk of interlocking serpents was fixed to the head-band which centred upon his forehead.
"Lord Axa, my wife and child live in the village," said Hochob, "So too are the family of the runner Hotchas."
"We must see these so-called Gods, whatever they be they are enemies of mine," said Axa. As he bit his teeth together the muscles in his face bulged, "Come let us travel!" He tossed aside his heavy war shield, his warriors copied him, they would be moving fast.
He shouted to the men from the village, "Is there none amongst you who will take the way of the warrior?" Nobody moved other than to look slowly away as if their shame prevented them from looking at their chieftain. "Then we go alone!" he shouted, turning his back on the men and striding off.
Down jungle paths, across streams and through valleys the warriors trotted in single file. The villagers had run all night, much ground had been covered in their terror. As the warriors travelled they turned their heads from side to side carefully scanning the surrounding jungle, sometimes one of them would stop and face back up the track to check for signs of pursuit before running back to rejoin the group.
Axa led the band, alongside him trotted a warrior who was clearly finding it difficult to keep from hurtling ahead. Axa turned to him. "Hotchas, find out what you can and wait for us."
/> "I shall return to you my Lord!" answered the warrior handing his club and head-dress to one of his comrades. He tore off infront of the band with blistering pace. It was quite fantastic that a man was able to cover the ground at such speed.
"Who should I stay with?" asked Davey.
"It's up to you lad, you're the one doin' all the work."
They watched the runner disappear from view ahead of the warriors who followed in his wake.
The men trotted on under the hot sun paying no attention to their own discomfort, their faces were set for battle. It was to be some time before Hochob indicated to Lord Axa that they were near to the village.
"Smoke is in the air," said a warrior.
"Hotchas does not meet us," said Axa, "it is not a good sign."
A hand signal spread his men out into a fan-like formation, they trotted up a slight rise until they overlooked the village but the carnage and desolation which met their eyes caused them to forget all thoughts of caution, with wild animal yells they roared down the slope seeking anything on which to vent their anger.
"Hey lad, these fellers are goin' to see the doin's of those Spanish. I reckon yer best not to see what went on in this place."
"But won't we need to see what happened so we know how to help the girl?"
"Seeing how men, women and children have been slaughtered never 'elped anybody."
Davey began to sweep their view away from the village but shouts from one of the warriors caused him to direct his gaze back.
AMy Lord,@ called the warrior, AHotchas lies here!@ he pointed towards the fallen runner.
As the warriors moved towards his limp body four men ran out from the wreckage of one of the huts, one wore a steel surcoat, as they ran the man yelled, "Don't waste your shots! RAISE... FIRE!"
Muskets were aimed and blasted at the warriors. A shower of sparks, a puff of black smoke and Hochob and two other men fell to the ground.
AReload!@ shouted the man in armour. "Quickly now, before they recover!" Horns poured black powder into musket barrels, wadding was inserted, ramrods were produced and frantic hands rammed the charges home.
The warriors stood, stunned, watching in disbelief.
ARaugh!@ yelled Lord Axa, he hurtled forwards followed by his eight remaining men.
The Spaniards did not have time to prime their muskets for a second shot. Outnumbered, two of them swung their muskets like clubs, the other two dropped their muskets in favour of short swords. They could not withstand the fury of the Inca charge; long obsidian edged clubs hacked mercilessly.
The warriors stood over their victims examining them.
"Are these the gods of whom it has been prophesied?" asked a warrior.
AGods do not bleed,@ stated Lord Axa simply.
AMy Lord, I struck this one three times and each blow bounced off."
Axa picked up a fallen sword. He looked at its bright curving blade which glinted wickedly in the strong sunlight and tapped it against the shiny surcoat of the fallen Spaniard. AThis is no god,@ he said, Athis is a man. These are all men. They die and bleed! Topac strike him with your club." The club broke its teeth on the armour. ANow, strike against this white flesh,@ he indicated with the point of the sword where the warrior should strike. This time the blow had the desired effect. ASearch the village for signs of life. Then we shall give chase to these so-called gods!@
"Let's get out of 'ere lad, it's like a flippin' butchers shop."
A large wooden cross cast its dark shadow over their path as they swept from the village.
"Who's this then?" asked Paddy as Davey's gaze settled upon a lone figure.
Davey moved towards the man until he could be seen more clearly. "It's that old man who was in the jungle!" said Davey.
They watched him staggering along.
"He must be injured lad."
"I can't see anything wrong with him Uncle Paddy."
"Well he must have 'ad a skin-full then, cause he's reeling worse than a jack-tar."
They watched him continue to stagger drunkenly towards the village. As he approached nearer Davey was able to get a closer look at him."He's got some kind of mark on his temple where his head exploded, look, it's like a big red scar."
"Yeah, I can see it now. Question is how did he get that thing fixed up."
"I'm wondering if it was anything to do with the thing in the sky," said Davey.
Paddy grinned, "This is good stuff isn't it lad!"
"What will happen to him if the warriors see him?" asked Davey.
"Eh, you've got a point there, let's hope they've moved off before he gets any nearer. Take a look and see, they should 'ave finished looking around."
"It were better for Hochob that he did not witness this," said Lord Axa.
"By the great god Huitzilopochtli vengeance shall be ours!" shouted the men.
Hotchas had collapsed with shock. "Live to reap revenge," his comrades urged him as he revived.
Lord Axa spoke to his men. AThe white-skins head towards Sit-Nalta,@ he motioned with his club in the direction they had taken, ATopac has followed their tracks,@ he nodded at the warrior.
Topac spoke, AThey leave strange tracks, tracks of large animals, larger than the biggest llama and set wider and further apart. They drag things, the sod is cut, They make no effort to hide their passage, we could follow them on the darkest night, my Lord, I fear that the animals making these tracks move at speed. They send the earth flying. They must surely be fearsome in battle.@
AIt is the will of the gods,@ said Manco, an old warrior, Adid not the men from the village say they moved like the wind?@
Lord Axa ignored him."Can we catch them?" he asked the tracker.
"Whatever they drag is very heavy, look at these cuts," he pointed to the deep grooves made by the wheels of the heavy cannon, "and there are many on foot."
"If they must walk then we must run," replied Axa.
AYAGH!@ yelled the warriors as one man.
As if in answer to their prayers one of the white-skins walked into the village. He was an old man, he walked unsteadily and nearly fell to the ground but managed to keep on staggering.
Three warriors shot towards him lifting their clubs to striking positions as they ran.
The moment before the clubs struck Axa blew the horn he carried. The warriors halted and waited for him. He stared at the old man. AThis one is no threat to us. Kabah, Labnah, take hold of him that we may find out more about these white-skins.@
The two warriors pinned the arms of the old man to his sides then bent down on their knees forcing him to the floor. The old man did not struggle.
AHe is weak my Lord, he wears no hard skin,@ said Kabah.
AHe may be faking, tie him fast,@ ordered Axa.
Ropes were brought and fastened to the old man until he was scarcely able to breathe. Only then did they examine him more closely.
AThis man is stunned or injured, my Lord, perhaps the men of the village hurt him in the attack?@
AI do not think this white-skin is a fighting man. He has a bewildered look about him, a strange look. His eyes look at us but do not see us."
"He has a fresh scar here," said Labnah pointing at the old man's temple. The warriors examined the spot. "This wound ought to have killed him my Lord," said one of them.
"I hear what you say Cocho, you are well skilled in the repair of fighting men, have you ever seen a man survive injury in that place before? I have never seen the like."
Cocho examined the mark more closely. "No my lord, this wound and scar are fresh, I have never seen the like."
"We will take him with us until we can find out more. We must catch these murderers before they reach the city. The warriors must be warned and prepared to fight! Come, we shall not stay to bury the dead, the dead can wait, the living cannot!@
Manco said, "The old man will slow us," he advanced threateningly raising his club to a striking position.
Axa ordered, AWait! fate has sent this man into ou
r hands, there is something about him...Bring him!" A rope was tied from each of the old man's wrists to a warrior. They jerked him along, the old man stared vacantly into the air as if he had no knowledge of what was happening. In single file they moved out, above them giant condors circled as numerous as the flies on the ground waiting for their bravest to begin the long drop to the feast below. The warriors jogged at an easy trot but the old man was unable to maintain the pace, Cocho reached into a pouch, took out a leaf and thrust it into the old man's mouth forcing him to swallow, before long the old man was able to keep up.
When the sun had climbed to its highest they reached a roadway which followed the contours of the land, here they made better time. Steadily they climbed until they looked down upon a massive valley through which threaded a great river, the mountains loomed ahead, beneath them the jungle sprawled like a great beast overpowering everything with which it came into contact.
The old man was pulled along at the end of the ropes which bound him, occasionally a warrior would jerk too hard and send him sprawling to the ground. They made their way higher until they reached the shoulders of the great peaks there the roadway reached a rise then dipped down revealing a small staging post. The reed-roof and stone walls caused it to merge unnoticeably into its surroundings.
AMy Lord,@ said Hotchas, Athe woman who lives here can tie a quipu, if your sign is tied into it the warriors will know it is your message. I shall deliver it far ahead of you.@
AYou are wise in your counsel Hotchas,@ said Lord Axa, "you are able to reach Sit-Nalta long before we even near it, the warriors can be made ready."
An old Inca woman welcomed the warriors into her home. She remembered Hotchas from his days as a runner. She listened to their tale in silence, everyone she knew had lived in the settlement. "You are no God!" she screamed spitting into the old man's face. He did not even notice what she had done.
"To work woman,@ ordered Lord Axa. Soon her gnarled fingers were twisting and knotting five threads together. Two red, two brown, one green; knots were tied into certain places, sometimes next to each other, sometimes far apart.
"Your sign my Lord," said the old woman. Axa removed the disk from his head-dress, she twisted it into the pattern of knots. There was an urgency in her movements but occasionally she would have to pause to consult diagrams drawn onto a reed scroll that lay opened upon the table. The poor light from the candles made it difficult for her to see, she peered intently...
"Hurry!" The harsh shout caused the woman to jump, "It is lives that depend upon this, get it right, or they will be slaughtered like pigs," Kabah rose to his feet, his fearsome face was made horrific in the shadowy light, "they will not fight until they are told the truth. These murderers are not Gods. They are MURDERERS!" he yelled.
Labnah went to his side, "Well said my brother."
"It is nearly done," replied the woman, "the runner will carry this until his lungs crack and his heart bursts." With a final few twists and a large heavy knot to seal the message she passed the quipu, "My Lord, take it, Hotchas waits."
Axa bent down under the low entrance and went outside.
AYou know what you must do,@ the chieftain stated.
Hotchas stood, his mind was fixed on the task ahead, his eyes seemed unfocussed, they peered into the distance in the direction he must journey. "I shall run more swiftly than I have ever travelled my Lord," said Hotchas emphatically.
"Be careful, trust nobody, traitors are everywhere, my family are in the city their lives depend on you." He added his final few words quietly.
Hotchas finished attaching the cord to his belt. "I pray Viracocha may lend me speed," he stepped forwards, breaking into a slow-moving trot.
"May Inti shine upon you," called Lord Axa as he departed.
The runners muscles rippled as he moved, they were tight, hard sheaths which covered his trained frame. He wore only a loin cloth above which was the belt to which he had attached the quipu. He carried nothing save a small skin of water, slung across his back.
Lord Axa watched him move away. The pace seemed slow and yet it was incredible how rapidly it ate up the distance. He gripped his war club tightly and vowed to himself that it would taste blood again soon.