The Crimson Conquest by Charles Hudson

Author:Charles Hudson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pronoun

CHAPTER XXI

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The Señora Descends upon Pedro

WE GO FORWARD TO FIND ourselves at Xauxa, a week subsequent to the catastrophe at Xilcala, months after Pizarro’s march to Cuzco.

The town lies on the river Xauxa, a branch of the great Apurimac, in one of the many fertile valleys, or bolsons, that break the arid desolation of the Sierra. Pizarro had found it well defended by the immense fortress on the steeps of an adjacent mountain. He left it with a small garrison, as has appeared. With this remained the sick and incapacitated, and most of the non-combatants. Among these were Pedro, who, since the escape of Peralta, was no longer persona grata, and felt more secure away from the commander; José remained invalided by an attack of the fever; Father Tendilla, as missionary to the natives; and Rogelio, the veedor, who tarried for reasons best known to himself. Rogelio, however, pleaded an indisposition which, as a civil officer of the Crown and a man with a family, he could not conscientiously neglect; and from his couch in his quarters within the fortress, bade farewell in a voice of feebleness and suffering. When assured that the last company had marched he rolled out of bed and dressed in time to watch the command from the rampart as it trailed down to the town below. He shook a fist at the distant figure he knew to be Mendoza’s, rubbed his hands, snuffled, and emitted a chuckle of mingled glee, triumph, and malice. An hour afterward he was haggling with Duero and Mani-mani, a sub-chief of the Cañares.

For several days the garrison remained within the fortress. A fortnight later word came that Prince Manco had met Pizarro peaceably at Xaquixaguana, and had presented his claim to the throne. His right had been formally recognized, and the prince was proceeding with the Spaniards to Cuzco, where the coronation would take place straightway. Accompanying the news was his command that all hostility should cease, and soon natives and garrison were on friendly terms. Those Spaniards privileged to do so took quarters in the town, and among them was Pedro.

Pedro established his cantina near the square. One afternoon he was leaning idly beside his door, watching the passers-by, with an occasional glance down the thoroughfare toward the north. A chasqui had announced the day before that a small company of Viracochas was approaching, newly arrived from Panama, on the way to join Pizarro. The cantina was prepared, and a roast of llama on Pedrillo’s spit divided the attention which the proprietor paid to the street. The latter was interesting, for the day was a festival of some sort and the town was full of the country people, gayly clad, and notwithstanding recent calamities, in full holiday spirits. As Pedro stood he noted that the crowd was growing. By and by he observed that his establishment was drawing a deal of persistent attention. No one had stopped in front of it, but a number had passed and repassed, and one Indio, conspicuous for his dignity of bearing, had already grown familiar.

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