THE KISS OF QUILLA
Her women bore Quilla swooning from that ill-fated field, and sick and sad she remained until once more we saw the City of the Chancas. Yet all this while strength and sight were returning to her eyes, so that in the end she could see as well as ever she had done, for which I thanked Heaven.
Messengers had gone before us, so that when we drew near all the people of the Chancas came out to meet us, a mighty multitude, who spread flowers before us and sang songs of joy. On the same evening I was summoned by Huaracha and found him dying. There in the presence of his chief captains Quilla and I told him all our story, to which he listened, answering nothing. When it was finished he said:
"I thank you, Lord-from-the-Sea, who through great perils have saved my daughter and brought her home to bid farewell to me, untarnished as she went. I understand now that it was an evil policy which led me to promise her in marriage to the prince Urco. Through your valour it has come to naught and I am glad. Great dangers still lie ahead of you and of my people. Deal with them as you will and can, for henceforward, Lord-from-the-Sea, they are your people, yours and my daughter's together, since it is my desire and command that you two should wed so soon as I am laid with my fathers. Perchance it had been better if you had slain the Inca when he was in your hand, but man goes where his spirit leads him. My blessing and the blessing of my gods be on you both and on your children. Leave me, for I can say no more."
That night King Huaracha died.
Three days later he was buried with great pomp beneath the floor of the Temple of the Moon, not being preserved and kept above ground after the fashion of the Incas.
On the last day of the mourning a council was summoned of all the great ones in the country to the number of several hundreds, to which I was bidden. This was done in the name of Quilla, who was now named by a title which meant, "High Lady," or "Queen." I went to it eagerly enough who had seen nothing of her since that night of her father's death, for, according to the custom of this people, she had spent the time of mourning alone with her women.
To my surprise I was led by an officer, not into the great hall where I knew the notables were assembling, but to that same little chamber where first I had talked with Huaracha, Quilla's father. Here the officer left me wondering. Presently I heard a sound and looking up, saw Quilla herself standing between the curtains, like to a picture in its frame. She was royally arrayed and wore upon her brow and breast the emblem of the moon, so that she seemed to glitter in that dusky place, though nothing about her shone with such a light as did her large and doe-like eyes.
"Greeting, my Lord," she said in her soft voice, curtseying to me as she spoke. "Has my Lord aught to say to me? If so, it must be quick, since the Great Council waits."
Now I grew foolish and tongue-tied, but at length stammered out:
"Nothing, except what I have said before--that I love you."
She smiled a little in her slow fashion, then asked:
"Is there naught to add?"
"What can there be to add to love, Quilla?"
"I know not," she answered, still smiling. "Yet in what does the love of man and woman end?"
I shook my head and answered:
"In many things, all of them different. In hell sometimes, and more rarely in heaven."
"And on earth which lies between the two, should those who love escape death and separation?"
"Well, on earth--in marriage."
She looked at me again and this time a new light shone in her eyes which I could not misinterpret.
"Do you mean that you will marry me, Quilla?" I muttered.
"Such was my father's wish, Lord, but what is yours? Oh! have done," she went on in a changed voice. "For what have we suffered all these things and gone through such long partings and dangers so dreadful?
Was it not that if Fate should spare us we might come together at last? And has not Fate spared us--for a while? What said the prophecy of me in the Temple of Rimac? Was it not that the Sun should be my refuge and--I forget the rest."
"I remember it," I said. "That in the beloved arms you should sleep at last."
"Yes," she went on, the blood mounting to her cheeks, "that in the beloved arms I should sleep at last. So, the first part of the prophecy has come true."
"As the rest shall come true," I broke in, awaking, and swept her to my breast.
"Are you sure," she murmured presently, "that you love me, a woman whom you think savage, well enough to wed me?"
"Aye, more than sure," I answered.
"Hearken, Lord. I knew it always, but being woman I desired to hear it from your own lips. Of this be certain: that though I am but what I am, a maiden, wild-hearted and untaught, no man shall ever have a truer and more loving wife. It is my hope, even that my love will be such that in it at last you may learn to forget that other lady far away who once was yours, if only for an hour."
Now I shrank as from a sword prick, since first loves, whatever the tale of them, as Quilla guessed or Nature taught her, are not easily forgot, and even when they are dead their ghosts will rise and haunt us.
"And my hope, most dear, is that you will be mine, not for an hour but for all our life's days," I answered.
"Aye," she said, sighing, "but who knows how many these will be?
Therefore let us pluck the flowers before they wither. I hear steps.
The lords come to summon us. Be pleased to enter the Council at my side and holding me by the hand. There I have somewhat to say to the people. The shadow of the Inca Kari, whom you spared, still lies cold upon us and them."
Before I could ask her meaning the lords entered, three of them, and glancing at us curiously, said that all were gathered. Then they turned and went before us to the great hall where every place was filled. Hand in hand we mounted the dais, and as we came all the audience rose and greeted us with a roar of welcome.
