He thought of her walking towards the house in a bright sunny morning, the dew still fresh on the grass. He imagined himself watching her approach, dressed in that simple white dress, the crisp gentle morning breeze gently blowing through her beaming face and the folds of the cloth.
I really need to see her again. If only to keep myself together.
Before he knew it, Viracocha was shaking him awake.
“Wake up, First Mage. The royal messenger is here. Apparently, the king couldn’t wait for you to show up in the city. The Supac Inca is in the main hall of the temple.”
“I’m awake, Wilan,” he grouchily replied as the Incan continued to shake his leg. He looked around. The rest were already getting ready. Tyler took his turn at the wash basin and then grabbed a quick bite at the table. Viracocha took the seat next to him.
“I will be with you, but I won’t be able to participate,” he warned. “From this point on, it’s going to be your decisions.”
“Any advice?” he asked through a food-filled mouth.
“Expect the lad’s brains to be poisoned against you. And if it comes to fireballs and such displays, kindly keep the damage to a minimum. It’s my temple after all,” whispered the deity.
“Asshole king. Minimize damage. Got it.”
“Here, take this,” said Viracocha as he gave Tyler a small baseball-sized translucent orb.
“And this is?” the mage asked.
“Smash it on the floor and it displays the future of the person you wish it to show.”
“Oh, I thought I needed to smash it and out of the smoke, a new and better king will arise.”
“You wish!” said the deity who again winked.
Dionysus’s ailment is really catching.
The group went outside, with Tyler in the lead. Astrid and Tyndur took up flanking positions, Asem in the middle, and Habrok took up the rear. Viracocha walked ahead of them, just behind the messenger. Finally, they reached a massive entrance on the other side of the temple. A lot of guards with spears and light iron cuirasses worn on white cotton tunics were arranged outside the temple and its entrance. The warriors also wore conical iron helmets with transverse metal decorations on top. They also had rectangular painted wooden shields with iron bosses. Greaves, arm bracers, and a hand weapon, either a short sword or an axe, completed the outfit.
Intra-cultural adaptations. Must be elite palace guards, thought Tyler. He didn’t think Incan warriors of Earth ever wore iron armor much less used iron swords. The messenger hurried ahead to announce them.
As they entered the temple hall, Tyler noticed it was well-lit by magelights. At the end was a massive stone sculpture of Viracocha designed in the usual abstract way of Mesoamerican cultures. He thought about joking about how it looked but thought better of it. It might be the deity’s sore point.
All around them were more guards. Waiting in front of the group was a golden throne in which a young man, just a little more than a boy, sat. Priests, headed by Ayar-Maita, stood on one side while officious looking men in colorful attire took up the left side of the king. To the right side of the boy, standing several feet in front of the throne was a tall and thin man in a pure white and gold tunic but with wristbands and a headband made of gold.
That must be the weasel, thought Tyler. Though he really doesn’t look like one. Only a bit of a weasel. More like a used-car salesman on the wrong side of town.
Viracocha stopped and then went to the side. The companions stood where they were. Then suddenly the boy-king shouted at them.
“Bow!”
Tyler was taken aback. It was one reaction he didn’t expect. The man in front looked at them and in an arrogant tone, also shouted the demand. The rest of the hall was silent. The shouts of the king and the official, who the mage now assumed was Hualpa Micos, echoed throughout the vast chamber.
Shouting? Bowing? Tyler irritably thought. Blow me. Then the voice of X sounded in his mind.
“Elder, we sense a minute amount of Elder energy.”
“Where?”
“The man in front of you. We detect a basic Elder seeming spell. He is not whom he appears to be.”
“How do we remove the spell?”
“The fastest way would be physical contact, no matter how fleeting. We can swiftly drain the energy.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Be careful, Elder. We don’t know the capabilities of the creature. Remember the Aztecah witch. And the Greater Yahui.”
“You didn’t need to remind me.”
“I don’t bow to skunks,” calmly remarked Tyler, looking at Hualpa Micos. At the remark, the color of the man’s face quickly turned red. His expression a rictus of admixed rage and embarrassment.
“What did you say?” shouted the man in a louder voice. A faint sound of suppressed laughter from the spectators was starting to disturb the silence.
“I said I don’t bow to skunks. They smell,” repeated Tyler.
The man was beside himself with fury. He quickly walked towards Tyler. As he got within an arm’s length, he raised his right hand, finger pointed at the mage’s face.
“You!” he exclaimed, at a loss for words in his anger.
As the official raised his hand, Tyler swiftly grabbed the pointed finger and threw it to one side. As he did so, Hualpa metamorphosed to something else. He now looked like a human being whose entire skin had been flayed from his body. Instinctively, Tyler quickly wiped his hand on his armor. The whole hall was in shock. Even the boy-king looked on, mouth agape and eyes wide open.
Hualpa started to talk but only unintelligible garble and raspy sounds came from an inhuman throat. Tyler realized that what power animated Hualpa also gave the creature the power of speech. With the removal of the Elder energy, the true nature of the monster now stood revealed before the priests and mages in the temple. And one powerful deity. In whose temple the creature now found himself.
Viracocha spoke only one word.
“Abomination.”
Immediately a glowing cylinder trapped the monster. It briefly flashed, blinding for a moment everyone looking at the sight. Then it disappeared, leaving a pile of ashes. With a gesture, the deity blew the remains out of the temple, passing through the arrayed guards who, despite their discipline, started to wipe or tap themselves clear of the dust.
“Your Highness, it appears you have been keeping unwholesome company,” Tyler told the king.
The young boy couldn’t speak, he was still in shock. Then Ayar-Maita strode forward.
“High Mage, he is still our king. Our Sapa Inca,” said the High Priest.
At the words “High Mage,” a gasp audibly swept throughout the hall. The guards, priests, mages, and even the officials took a step or three backward. The ones nearest the group increased their distance. Glancing at his sides, Tyler saw Tyndur and Astrid were already in fighting stances, though no weapons were drawn yet.
“I know, High Priest. But let’s see what the future of the Inka Kingdom and its people would be under this Sapa Inca,” remarked Tyler as he brought out the small luminous sphere. He threw the orb against the floor. It broke and dissolved into mist. A broad circular light shot out and stopped just above the heads of the crowd. It flashed and then started showing images.
Ruined villages and crumbled cities. Piles of dead Incan warriors. Aztecah priests on top and among Incan temples and buildings and a burning temple of Viracocha. Long lines of Incan captives being led up Aztecah temples to serve as blood sacrifices. Incan allies stopping at the border and returning home, and finally, an image of the king spread-eagled on a stone platform with a knife-wielding Aztecah priest at his side.
Shit. That blows, thought Tyler. He had been shown the genocide of an entire people and the destruction of a kingdom.
As the people stood shock-still, Tyler saw Ayar-Maita walk swiftly to a guard near him, draw out the sword of the man, go to the king, and with one swift cut, beheaded the boy. The spray of blood streaked the golden th
rone with red and splashed nearby priests and officials with crimson mist. The boy’s head rolled on the floor, eyes still wide open.
Chapter Lore:
Kamayuk – Quechua. Meaning “officer”.
Braves of the Pharaoh – An elite warrior group in the Pharaoh’s army.
Bastjan – Proto-Germanic. Some scholars believe it is the root word for Bastarnae, an ancient people, comprising numerous tribes, who once inhabited a large part of eastern Europe.
Chasqui – Quechua. A term for “royal messenger”.
Anyas – Quechua word meaning “a skunk”.
Chapter XVI
A Godly Tantrum
Oh, shit, thought Tyler after he finally recovered from the disbelief of seeing the High Priest cut off the boy-king’s head. He saw the crowd back away from the scene. A group of five guards to his right, officers by the more stylized head ornaments and jewelry adorning their bodies, drew swords and spears. The five started to rush towards Ayar-Maita. Nearby guards retreated. Some guards began to move in front of the old priest, trying to block the attackers. The rest appeared to be at a loss on what to do.
The mage immediately created a barrier in front of the onrushing warriors. As they slammed into it, he swiftly lifted them, their accelerating bodies hitting the high stone ceiling of the main hall. Then Tyler released the spell, letting the five drop freely from fifty feet. The five smashed to the hard floor accompanied with the lurid sounds of squashed flesh, breaking bones, and deformed metal. An extremely localized blizzard of blades followed, skewering the splayed figures.
Tyler was stunned at his instinctive reaction. The flurry of spells came mechanically to him. He didn’t even need to think on which spell to cast. The crowd of onlookers and guards stepped back some more, leaving a space where the mage’s group and Ayar-Maita remained. The guards who rushed to the aid of the High Priest stayed at his side. The mage could see their pale faces. Tyler glanced at his companions. They had already drawn their weapons and taken up defending positions. Habrok had turned around, drawn his longsword, and was facing the mass of guards at the entrance. But he had Asem at his back holding a glowing orb in her hand. Tyndur had a grin on his face with both hands holding the battleaxe while Astrid had her twin xiphos out. Her left held one weapon in a low position with the tip pointing forward and the other sword was held high at a spot parallel to her head. But the guards were evidently not in the mood to do anything rash. Almost all still had their tips of spears pointed upwards or held their spears in a carry position.
The mage turned his attention to the High Priest. The man was still looking at the headless body of the boy-king, slumped against the throne amidst flowing blood. A copious pool had already formed around the throne. Viracocha was nowhere to be seen.
Where the hell did that shyster go? wondered the unhappy mage. Things happened so fast. He couldn’t believe the chain of events which led to the death of the Incan king. It was all triggered by his baiting of the undead doppelganger. The deity was right, he reflected, his decisions led to the unfortunate scene before him. The decision to bait Hualpa and his choice to use the orb. A different course of action may have led to another outcome. But one thing was certain in his mind. He didn’t regret the death of the Hualpa creature. The king may have been a callous murderer but even that was unclear. It could have been Hualpa who pushed the brother down the well. At the very least, the boy was a willing conspirator. But one in a luckless position, a station too crucial to the outcome of the on-going war.
“Now what, High Priest?” he called out.
The man turned from the body and faced him. Tyler could see the immense sorrow in the man’s face.
“My death, High Mage. What I did was unforgivable. My family, all of my father’s line, will have to atone for this deed. But I could not stand by and live knowing what the fate of our kingdom and its people will be under this boy. Now, I pray the threads of fate have been changed and a chance has been given us.”
But his brother is also the head of the army. The most experienced battle leader left in the kingdom. Oh, duck shit.
For a moment, Tyler didn’t know what to say. Fuck politics. Punishing a good man because he tried to save everybody and everything he held dear.
“In normal times, yes. The deed would have been punished as you said. But consider the circumstances, High Priest. Your king had a foul creature, a servant of your enemies, as his closest adviser. He came into the kingship under a cloud of murder. The fate of your kingdom and its people under his rule would have led to what everybody here saw. For now, the Inka had evaded an enemy’s deadly blow. But for your people to survive, it needs leaders. Competent, experienced, and dedicated ones. Will your death and the execution of the head of your army serve to ensure the survival of the Inka Kingdom? I think not.”
“But our laws—” the High Priest started to object.
“Your laws only matter if there will be an Inka Kingdom in the future. These are desperate times. Survival is the quintessential problem facing your people,” continued Tyler, not giving the man an opportunity to speak. He knew he was playing to the crowd, not to the priest. And then he had an inspiration. “And what will your gods say if you do proceed with the death and extinction of your line? Will they approve or be extremely displeased? My coming to these lands was at the behest of gods of other lands and your foremost deity. What will all those gods say if I allow you and yours to be executed?”
At his words, loud gasps and exclamations could be heard among the increasing number of people watching the drama. Some, even guards, had already dropped to their knees and bowed to him.
I hate this production. Too Broadway, Tyler thought. But the lives of good men and an entire people are in play.
“And what do you wish us to do, High Mage?”
“Your dedication to the Inka Kingdom is undeniable. The service of your family to the land and its people exemplary. Rule. Lead your people from the edge of extinction. Your gods will bless and guide the new Sapa Inca.”
Slowly, people starting kneeling and bowed in the direction of Ayar-Maita. A few prostrated themselves. The mage could hear crying among the crowd. Finally, a tall and muscled warrior, body covered with tattoos, stepped forward and abased himself.
Head of the palace guard?
“A new Sapa Inca! May our people live!” the warrior shouted.
The exclamation was then echoed by the multitude. Cries of “may our people live” rang throughout the temple. The mage could hear it being repeated and shouted outside the main hall. He looked at Ayar-Maita. The man had again turned his gaze to the headless body slouched on the throne. Then Tyler noticed Viracocha near the priest.
Now he comes back. Slacker.
Tyler watched as attendants rushed to remove the boy’s body and clean the throne. Ayar-Maita remained standing, with Viracocha at his side. The deity did look at the mage and gave a grim smile. For some reason, he seemed angry though he was trying to hide it. But he just stood there and watched the unfolding events. The warrior who had declared Ayar-Maita’s status had already stood up and was giving orders to the guards, confirming Tyler’s suspicions that he was the head of the king’s guards. The officials and priests arranged themselves in ordered ranks, ready for the new king’s orders. Yet the new Sapa Inca remained silent.
“Why the face? You look really mad, despite your efforts to hide it,” Tyler mentally asked the Incan deity.
“The presence of that foul creature in my temple was an insult beyond what I can describe. They dared to do that to me? Sorry, I had to leave for a while. My fury needed a release. We’ll talk about it later. Especially how you were able to detect that undead beast and remove its disguise.”
Oh, freak me. Another story-telling-a-lie scene. I have to come up with an excuse fast. Though these deities are really touchy about their temples. Dionysus did throw a fit when that Greater Yahui invaded the inn. Now, Viracocha and that Hualpa thing. I wonder what release he was talking about?
Damn. I think the Incans definitely got a good man. Practical, acts fast, and unpresumptuous. I hope he doesn’t change. Or that his brother doesn’t get ideas.
The Sapa Inca and Viracocha then walked in his direction.
“Congratulations, Your Highness,” said Tyler.
“Thank you, High Mage. Though from the moment I entered the priesthood, I thought I would be spending my time serving my god and my fellow man. I can just imagine the face of my brother when he hears the news. Me, the new king. I was the one who gave the order to throw him out of the temple when he applied for the priesthood. I knew the land needed him. And now destiny has given me a greater burden than what I forced him to bear. He’ll be laughing his guts out.”
“I know you’ll be busy, Your Highness, and I prefer to be out of your way. With your permission, we would like to go back to our accommodations to rest some more and discuss future actions.”
“Don’t call me by that title, High Mage. You played a very significant role in these events. Call me by my name instead, at least when we’re not in official functions. I leave you to my friend here. I could offer a better welcome but that would be in the city not in this temple complex. A High Mage does need appropriate lodgings.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ayar-Maita. A proper bed and good food are enough.”
“Farewell then, High Mage. As you can see, there are a lot of matters to settle and prepare for in the current situation. Wilan will arrange everything. Just tell him what you want or need.”
The Accidental Archmage: Book Three - Blood Wars (The Accidental Archmage Series 3) Page 25