The Days of Peleg (28 page)

“Ah, we have a response,” Manco Chavin said with some urgency. The falcon began squawking angrily and glared at its master.

“You’re a good girl, Hina,” Manco Chavin cooed to his bird. Hina had a bright red and gold braided collar which he reached for. He carefully unfastened and removed the collar, stroked its neck a few times, and then said, “Thank you, Hina. You may go now.” Hina hopped off his arm and onto the table next to him, but made no effort to leave.

He turned to the men.

“I was so anxious about this message, I forgot all about Hina. She gets very jealous.” He straightened the collar out on the table, and unraveled it into three separate threads. Peleg noticed that each contained a variety of decorative knots. Manco Chavin bent over and studied the strings intently for a moment, and then picked one up and pulled it slowly between his thumb and middle finger, muttering silently to himself as the knots slipped past his fingertips. He did the same with the second—a look of concern passing over his face.

Hina stood there twisting her head back and forth, first watching Manco Chavin intently, then eyeing the fish. Finally Hina made a noise which could only be described as a cough, and Manco Chavin looked up.

“Yes, you may have a fish,” he said. Immediately the large bird rose high into the air, swooped down on the plate of fish, and snatched one in its claws. She flew straight to the other end of the room and exited through the doorway.

Manco Chavin ran the third knotted braid through his fingers then spoke.

“We leave immediately,” he announced. “The Inner Thirteen wish you to appear before them on the morning
four
days from now. We will have to travel much of the night.” He turned to Klempé. “They also demand that you accompany us.”

Peleg and the others stared dumbfounded.

“How could you possibly know this?” asked Peleg. “All of that was in your bird’s collar?”

Manco Chavin stared at them with bewilderment.

“You have not seen the
quipu
cords? It is the means by which the thoughts of the Council are shared with its members.” He said this as if it were a great mystical art—some form of mind reading that onlyinitiates could possess, and it was meant to intimidate.

It was not successful.

“No, seriously,” said Serug. He reached for the braids.

Manco Chavin snatched the cords and glared at them.

“You must be the most ignorant
Waca
ever,” he chided incredulously. “Never heard of the
quipu
…”

He shook his head and laughed slightly.

“I have never had someone question my explanation of the
quipu
before.”

He lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“You must never speak of this to the underlings,” he stated, then waited for their non-verbal ascent. It was obvious he was not supposed to speak of this, but couldn’t help being proud of its ingenuity.

“The color and material of each braid tells who the sender is,” he continued. He held out one of the cords for them to view, and they could each see the strange little knots that were tied into it.

“There are six different knots; a simple, a figure eight, and four different long-turn knots made up of one to four loops. Each knot also has its reverse, which allows for twelve different characters which are grouped by twos and threes.”

“How is it read?” asked Thaxad.

Manco Chavin shook his head and pulled back the cord.

“I have spoken too much already,” he said. “Suffice it to say that it is a kind of numeric representation of our written language.”

He turned to the wall where a thick rope hung in a taut semi-circle; with the ends fastened to the wall by a simple hook. Hanging from this rope were dozens of
quipu
cords, which had appeared to be nothing more than simple decorative tassels when they had first entered the room.

Manco Chavin unhooked one end from the wall, attached the latest
quipu
to his ‘message library’, and then turned back to address them.

“We leave tonight.”

Peleg looked at the others and spoke in their own language.

“We have to make sure we give ourselves enough time to get back to the
Urbat
,” he said. “We will have to leave almost as soon as we get there.”

Thaxad and Untash nodded, while Serug finished a handful of grapes.

“A word of advice,” interrupted Manco Chavin. His face had resumed a look of severity.

“I do not know the tongue you just used, but I strongly urge you to never use it again where you can be overheard. Others will not be as understanding as I.”

Two more small villages were his, and he had consolidated control of all shipping on the Tigris River. Plus, new armies were in training.

The Sar of Heaven and Earth was also pleased at how quickly his original city and temple were being rebuilt. It was great to be alive.

What he really needed was a good hunt. He could leave his endeavors alone for a few weeks. It had been ages since he had taken weapons and horses to fight an enemy other than another army.

It would be a nice diversion to hunt down some
Gutians
. Presumably they still hid out in caves to the west, but lately there had been only rumors of their continued existence. It had always been delightful to flush out the sub-humans.

It would also be wonderful to reacquaint his subjects with another of his previous titles:
Lord of Hunters
. His great hunting skill had created grand legends in the time before the Great Awakening.

When he returned, he would give himself the greater title of
Sargon
.
Ruler over all
. None would oppose him as he finished unifying humanity under his banner.

Chapter 23

Power

“When the hopes and dreams of a religion are realized, the need for that religion vanishes.”

L
ess than two months ago, this chamber had held thirteen men and a corpse. The quandary which had drawn them together at that time paled in significance to the issue which threatened them now.

Four priests were mysteriously absent at this secret convening of the Inner Nine. These nine were the family heads of the original Survivors—and blood brothers, sons of the Founder. The gravity of this situation demanded that those who had
not
made the crossing be excluded.

“We always feared that this day would come.” High Priest Manco Cachi looked at each of his brothers in turn. “The stability of our nation requires that our subjects have full and total trust in their priests. We are their caretakers, and their voice of truth. Chaos will ensue if they cannot rest in our infallibility—the voice of
Apu Inti
.”

Manco Khavo spoke. He was the oldest—next to Manco Cachi—and presided over the most distant district. It was fortunate that he had been visiting nearby when his falcon had found him, or he would not have arrived in time for the meeting.

“We established this belief system to give our people pride. They must know they are sons and daughters of the sun,
Apu Inti
—his special creation. We are rebuilding the world in his image. This existence of other peoples, who apparently were
not
destroyed, completely undermines this.”

“I have always warned of this,” said Manco Chivo. He was the youngest brother of the nine. “That is why I instituted the Sentries which were to watch for outsiders. If there were any chance at all that others survived the Curse, I knew that someday they might come exploring. We invented the
Waca
, and warned our Sentries that these demons might arrive wearing the garb of the old land…”

“
And
,” the High Priest interrupted, “the sentries have performed their function.”

Their father, Founder d’Jaqtan, had warned of the coming curse. A curse that would bring unimaginable warfare, bloodshed, and confusion, destroying all mankind. When this happened,
Viracocha
would surely destroy the world with water again.
This
time, however, they would be prepared.

A large barge was constructed, and, although Founder d’Jaqtan did not accompany them, the families, households, and servants of these nine men launched across the eastern sea with basic supplies and livestock. During the crossing, the predicted catastrophes never came, but it was finally proclaimed to all that the Curse
had
occurred—and that all human life had been destroyed.
Viracocha
had selected them as his only Survivors.

Manco Cachi continued.

“Our sentry has successfully intercepted these
Waca
, and dutifully reported them to Manco Chavin. They will be here momentarily.”

“However, they are
not
demons,” said Manco Khavo. “How long will we be able to pretend that these visitors are not men?”

“When it comes to the stability of our society, it is imperative that they
be
demons. We will question them, and then they will be eliminated—with utmost secrecy.” Manco Cachi decreed. “No one has seen them arrive, and Manco Chavin has certainly insisted they come robed and inconspicuous.”

“And what
of
Manco Chavin?” asked Manco Chando. He spoke quietly and rarely, but when he did, the other priests paid rapt attention.

“Manco Chavin is our thirteenth priest,” continued Manco Chando. “He and our other three priests know nothing of this. They believe as the rest of the people do. Do we now inform him?”

“There is no need,” said the High Priest. “We shall find that these men are indeed
Waca
, and honor him for his diligence.” He looked around for dissent, and found none.

“The
Waca
will be destroyed, our land will be saved, and the faith of our people will be strengthened.” The brothers nodded. “If all goes well, Manco Chavin can return to his outpost as a hero.”

A loud metallic booming sound echoed from the giant stone door.

“They have arrived.”

“This is unbelievable!”

Mentor Thaxad stared at the pyramid which was under construction. Although they were careful to keep their hoods over their heads, nothing could stop them from looking around at the amazing architecture which existed so far inland—and so high in the mountains.

“You’re not usually this excitable,” said Peleg. “What is so amazing to you?”

“If I hadn’t been climbing mountains for the last month, I would swear I was back in Kemet. The architecture, the casting, and the settlement arrangement are just like where I apprenticed for Paleochemistry.”

“I’m sure it was much warmer there,” Peleg responded, intrigued by the tall Mentor’s exuberance. They had walked straight through the first night, and climbed steadily throughout the preceding day. Manco Chavin had camped that night, saying they were close enough, and could rest.

During their trek they had crossed two more rope bridges—one at night! Peleg wasn’t sure which was worse: the terrifying view during the day, or crossing an invisible rope (in the pitch dark with no moon) which could only be discerned with one’s feet.

And as their altitude increased, so did the ache in their chests as it became more and more difficult to fill one’s lungs with the thin, cool air.

They continued walking, and Manco Chavin led them into the city. He stopped and gestured towards the pyramid.

“The
Acapana
of Tiwanaku,” he announced proudly. “As you can see, it is still under construction.”

“Your Citadel is much darker than the one at home,” Peleg observed.

“Yes,” agreed Thaxad. “You appear to use much of the mountain ores and some metals in your composites.”

They followed Manco Chavin as he led them around the front of the pyramid. They approached a set of large stone steps, and began to ascend. They reached a narrow limestone bridge which spanned the large moat of murky water that surrounded the structure.

“The meeting chamber is through here,” he said, pointing to a large trapezoid entrance. He led them around a ledge next to some scaffolding where workwomen were hauling buckets of castor-compounds suspended from yokes across their shoulders.

“We must hurry. The message was very insistent that we arrive before noon.”

As they began to enter the hallway, Peleg turned to look over his shoulder to the North. His eyes widened and his mouth opened at what he saw.

They were now several meters above the surrounding landscape, and across from the
Acapana
he could see a palatial courtyard with several large statues and a wall constructed in a manner similar to that which Thaxad claimed had been used for the base of Kupé’s statues.

But that is not what had captured Peleg’s attention. Just beyond this courtyard was an enormous deep-blue sea which stretched further than the eye could sea. It rolled with cold, dark swells, and he could smell the crisp coolness in the air.

He knew it
ought
to be fresh water, but he swore he could smell salt, as if from a large body of seawater. He suddenly missed the
Urbat
. He saw many boats of various sizes which seemed to be constructed from reeds.