I bade him lead on, and, with others who waited without, he conducted me through a maze of passages into a glorious chamber where everything seemed to be gold, for even the walls were panelled with it.  Never had I dreamt of so much gold; indeed the sight of it wearied me till I could have welcomed that of humble brick or wood.  At the end of this chamber that was also lit with lamps, were curtains.  Presently these were drawn by two beautiful women in jewelled skirts and head-dresses, and behind them on a dais I saw a couch and on the couch the old Inca Upanqui looking feebler than when I had last beheld him in the Chanca city, and very simply clad in a white tunic.  Only on his head he wore the red fringe from which I suppose he never parted day or night.  He looked up and said: 

“Greeting, White-Lord-from-the-Sea.  So you have come to visit me after all, though you said that you would not.”

“I have been brought to visit you, Inca,” I answered.

“Yes, yes, they tell me they captured you in the battle, though I expect that was by your own will as you had wearied of those Chancas.  For what laso can hold a god?”

“None,” I answered boldly.

“Of course not, and that you are a kind of god there is no doubt because of the things you did in that battle.  They say that the arrows and spears melted when they touched you and that you shot and cut down men by scores.  Also that when the prince Urco tried to kill you, although he is the strongest man in my kingdom, you knocked him over as though he had been a little child and hacked his head open so that they do not know whether he will live or die.  I think I hope he will die, for you see I have quarrelled with him.”

I thought to myself that so did I, but I only asked: 

“How did the battle end, Inca?”

“As it began, Lord Hurachi.  A great many men have been killed on both sides, thousands and thousands of them, and neither army has the victory.  They have drawn back and sit growling at each other like two angry lions which are afraid to fight again.  Indeed, I do not want them to fight, and now that Urco cannot interfere, I shall put a stop to all this bloodshed if I am able.  Tell me, for you were with him, why does this Huaracha, who I hear is also wounded, want to make war on me with those troublesome Chancas of his?”

“Because your son, the prince Urco, has poisoned, or tried to poison, his only child, Quilla.”

“Yes, yes, I know, and it was a wicked thing to do.  You see, Lord, what happened was this:  That lovely Quilla, who is fairer than her mother the Moon, was to have married Urco.  But, Lord, as it chanced on our journey together, although I am old—­well, she became enamoured of me, and prayed me to protect her from Urco.  Such things happen to women, Lord, whose hearts, when they behold the divine, are apt to carry them away from the vulgar,” and he laughed in a silly fashion like the vain old fool that he was.