Read Online The Gold Eaters by Ronald Wright - Free Book Online

barbarous tongue allows. You will speak sweetly. If I ask when they’ll be going back where they came from, you will say, for example, ‘How long will our esteemed visitors have the kindness to favour us with their presence.’ Always like that.”
    Waman does his best, unsure whom he fears more: the Old Oneor this Emperor’s man. He knows his Castilian is still flawed. And his Quechua leaves much to be desired, lacking the polish and crisp accent of this highland lord. Still, he speaks it better than most in Little River, because his mother and Tika, having come from the highlands, sometimes spoke it at home—especially when they didn’t want him to overhear.
    The official thanks Pizarro for the gifts sent with Molina, then strides casually about the deck of the strange ship, beguiling the foreigners with an easy manner, asking about her construction and her gear like one seaman to another. He is also curious about the animals, the swine, the ship’s cat—the only Spanish animal not eaten on the island—who is sunning herself on the rail. Are there bigger animals below, creatures like llamas on which, he’s heard, these idlers ride?
    Waman says he saw such beasts at the barbarian camp in the hotlands but they all died and there are none on board.
    So much is impossible to render. How to translate
compass, cannon
? Even
hog
and
cat
aren’t easy. Eventually he recalls words for the wild swine and small spotted cats of the jungle.
    After a long inspection, the Emperor’s man comes to the point. “Three things. Where have these vagabonds come from? Why are they here? What do they want? Be sure to ask sweetly.”
    â€œThis lord asks from what land the esteemed Christians hail. To what end do they favour his humble city with their visit? And in what way can he best fulfill their needs?”
    â€œTell him we come in friendship,” Pizarro replies. “We bring him greetings from King Charles, the greatest prince in the world, and we bring him good news of the True Faith, so his soul may live forever.”
    At this, Pilot Ruiz steps forward, tapping Pizarro on the shoulder. “Let’s not forget the Requirement, Don Francisco. We must read itto him now. Before . . . anything happens. Anything that might stain the blessed soul of His Majesty. To say nothing of your soul and mine. I’ll fetch it.” Ruiz goes briskly to his cabin.
    â€œNow, Felipillo,” Pizarro says. “Ask this Indian where we are and who he is. What rank does he hold? Is he a king? What land is this? Have we reached Peru?”
    Waman has never been able to answer them about their imaginary land of Peru. He knows the name of his hometown and of this port. Also the capital, the great city of Cusco—far to the south and high in the mountains—and a few other places he’s heard his family and others speak of. But he has never heard of anywhere called Peru. Or even that his country
has
a name. As far as he knows, it is simply the Empire. Or the World.
    He is no clearer about his captors’ geography. Do they come from
Panama
,
Castile
,
Spain
,
Rome
,
Europe
? He has heard them speak of all these, and more. But are they one kingdom or many?
    â€œThis port is Tumbes, as I said before, sir.”
    â€œNever mind what you’ve said. Tell me what
he
says. And what sort of man he is. Is he the king?”
    The official chuckles politely at the question and gives a long answer. Waman feels the steam of Pizarro’s impatience at his side.
    â€œHe says he is not a king. He is only the Emperor’s man in Tumbes. An official of the Empire. The Emperor lives far away, beyond the great snows, in his royal city. This lord here is . . . he says he is”—Waman wrestles with the title the highlander has told him,
Tukuy-Rikuq
—“one who sees everything. He looks into all things that concern the Emperor in this province. You could say