Ultima (33 page)

AD 2234; AUC 2987; AY 796

Eight months after the Romans had arrived at Yupanquisuyu, Inguill came to their
ayllu
. She was accompanied by officials, and a healthy squad of troops. She arrived in a cart drawn by two muscular-looking alpacas, causing a stir in the village. Such animals, it seemed, were rare in this habitat and reserved for the elite.

Such a personage as the
quipucamayoc
, record keeper of the empire, did not travel lightly, it seemed, and not without heavy protection. Mardina was learning that the
antisuyu
was thought of as bandit country, from which the Sapa Inca and his family and court were protected by layers of security: the rain forest, and then an ocean, and then the open stretches of the
altiplano
, and
then
a climb of hundreds of miles through vacuum before you came upon the fortifications of Hanan Cuzco itself . . . And yet here Inguill was, in the mouth of the jaguar.

The visit was a big event for the
ayllu.
Although Inguill and her followers had arrived entirely unannounced, the
ayllu
was expected to feed and house them. Tents and lean-tos were hurriedly erected—even the
curaca
, Pascac, the local leader, had to give up his house. Meanwhile the fastest young runners and
yanakuna
slaves were sent dashing to nearby communities to call in favors, and they returned with food, stashes of coca and other potions, blankets and bedding and other luxuries.

Inguill, however, seemed interested in none of this. She set up a kind of court in Pascac's house, spent one night resting to recover from her journey, and consulting with Ruminavi the
tocrico apu
among other advisers. Then, through Pascac, she peremptorily summoned the senior Romans: Quintus Fabius as the obvious leader, and whoever he chose to bring with him—but, she specified, that had to include Chu Yuen the slave boy, with his mysterious pack.

Before the meeting, Quintus Fabius gathered his people outside Pascac's house. Mardina noticed that while Quintus and his soldiers had become accustomed to wearing the readily available
ayllu
garb, today he and Titus Valerius had defiantly changed back into the remains of their military costume, though of course without weapons, armor or legion insignia. Mardina supposed this was some statement of cultural defiance. Mardina herself was happy to stay in the local clothes, including her round felt hat, which she'd decided was quite fetching.

Quintus spoke quietly, in rough camp Latin. “Do not translate, please, Collius. Let us not be overheard for once.” He gestured at the group. “So here we are. I suspect most of you would prefer not to be brought before this rather sinister woman.”

“Sinister and with power over us all,” grumbled Titus Valerius.

“Yes, Titus. But we are an anomaly here in Yupanquisuyu—an anomaly in this version of history . . .”

“True,” murmured the ColU from the usual pack mounted on a nervous-looking Chu Yuen's back. “And from the very beginning it has been this woman Inguill, of all the Inca locals, who has seemed to have perceived that most clearly.”

“Well, she is the empire's chief record keeper,” said Michael the
medicus
. “If anybody knows the history, it's going to be her.”

“Correct,” Quintus said. “And since, as far as I know,” and as he said this he glared at Titus, “none of us have misbehaved terribly—none of us have done anything to bring ourselves to the undue attention of the authorities here,
as far as I know
 . . .”

“You can rest assured about that, sir,” Titus rumbled.

“Presumably Inguill has come here to address loftier questions. Well, I suppose I was going to have to face this at some point, but at least I don't have to be alone. So I am bringing you into the arena with me, my friends. You, Titus, the heart of the century—and its belly. You, Michael, as the nearest to a philosopher we have. You, of course, Collius, as she has requested Chu Yuen—”

The ColU said, “Even if she doesn't know of my existence, yet, or my true nature.”

“And me?” Mardina asked, baffled. “Why am I here?”

Quintus smiled at her, reassuring. “You are here because you represent our past, Mardina. Half your blood, after all, comes from beyond
two
jonbar hinges. And with your youth you also represent our future—and whatever future we have depends, at least for now, on the goodwill of the Sapa Inca. I want you at my side so that Inguill sees that.” Then he surprised Mardina by clasping Chu Yuen on the shoulder. “And you, Xin. When I assigned you as the bearer of Collius it was a random choice—I was barely aware of your existence; I did not know your name, or care. Yet you have come through so much with us, and you have borne yourself and your strange burden well. I am glad you are with us today.”

Even now, Mardina saw with a twinge of sadness, the boy could not raise his eyes to meet Quintus's. But he said, “Thank you, Centurion.”

Titus Valerius grunted, and he adjusted his cloak. “Well said, sir, as always. But aren't you exaggerating a bit? You call this an arena. We aren't gladiators going into combat.”

“Oh, Titus, you would never have made an officer. Let me face bare-handed a dozen highly trained and fully armed gladiators, each with a personal grudge against me, than a lawyer with a single pointed question. Come now, let's get this done.”

•   •   •

In Pascac's house Inguill sat comfortably upright on a couch, with Ruminavi on a mat on the ground on her left-hand side, and Pascac himself standing on the other, looking grave. Inguill had a kind of leather trunk open on the floor before her. Two soldiers, heavily armed, stood at ease behind her.

Ruminavi caught Mardina's eye, and gave her a kind of wink. Uncomfortable, she looked away.

Quintus sat on a couch facing Inguill, with his own advisers arrayed behind him, sitting on the floor. Michael suppressed a grumble as he made his way down to the floor; this was a custom of the Incas, that only your leader was allowed to be at eye level with the representative of the Sapa Inca.

With everyone in place, they sat and faced each other in silence—like pieces on a game board, Mardina thought, and maybe that wasn't an inappropriate analogy.

Dressed soberly, her eyes sharp, Inguill looked strong, in control. At last she spoke. “Well. You are wondering why I have come here, why I wish to speak to you today.”

Pascac, standing beside her, bowed from the waist. “The
quipucamayoc
to the Sapa Inca is always welcome—”

“Oh, hush, man. This isn't a time for flattery, for protocol. It's a time for truth.” She gazed at Quintus, at Titus, at Chu Yuen with his pack on the mat-strewn floor before him. “You'll remember my first reaction to you people when you came wandering in, riding craft, your
yachts
, that were obviously unsuitable for the journey you described. Your unlikely story of a lost colony of Romaoi miners on an ice moon!

“I am a record keeper. A historian. A number counter. My job for the Sapa Inca is to reflect the order of his vast empire, and to play my part in enforcing that order. And I remember I spoke to you of a deeper underpinning for our need for order. Unlike you Romaoi, or what is known of your history anyhow,
our
gods are not nurturing gods who bring the rains in the spring and the sun in the summer. They are not upstart slaves like your Jesu, not gods of generosity and forgiveness. Our gods are gods of destruction and calamity—gods who lived at the summits of fire mountains, in the continent you call Valhalla Inferior. Gods who have to be approached in drug-induced trances and spirit flights, gods who need to be propitiated with sacrifices, of food, drink—and, yes, human blood.”

As she said that she looked pointedly at Ruminavi, who dropped his eyes.

Now Inguill leaned forward and faced Quintus. “I speak of our gods who, our theologians believe, eventually overthrew yours, in your comfortable eastern continents, and shattered your Roman Empire.” She straightened up. “The foundation of my job is maintaining order. Without order, rigidly applied, surely you can understand that the fabric of this great machine we all live in could not be maintained. As for me, I left my birth family to study at the Houses of Learning at Hurin Cuzco at the eastern hub, and then I have served the Sapa Inca in the administrative buildings of Hanan Cuzco at the western hub. I live alone. I care for my parents, my siblings, but rarely see them. For myself, order is my husband—the only one I need.
He
will not betray me, if I serve him well.

“Which is why you people represent such a problem to me. You are a threat to that order, and have been since the moment you have arrived.” She pointed a finger at Quintus. “Because—
you—don't—fit.
”

Titus growled, “How fortunate we were to have you on hand when we arrived, then,
quipucamayoc
.”

Quintus shot him a warning glance.

But Inguill said, “Oh, there was no fortune involved. I look out for—anomalies. Ripples on the pond of order and calm. You could say I collect them; you could call it a passion. And when I heard the reports of your ships' approach, I knew you were just such a ripple on my pond.”

Quintus laughed, surprising Mardina, but she saw he was trying to lift the mood, to break up the intensity. “Ha! Never heard
you
described as a ripple on a pond, Titus Valerius. What is it you want to say to us,
quipucamayoc
?”

She smiled. “I want to learn more of you. I have come to think I need to. And believe me, you need to learn more of me.

“I wish to propose an exchange of gifts. I give you something; you give me something in return. Our whole society is based on this exchange, if you think about it: you fulfill your
mit'a
obligations to the Sapa Inca, and in return he grants you the gift of a secure life.”

Quintus scowled. “What gift?”

She reached into her trunk and produced a Roman military belt buckle, heavy steel and brass. “Not so much a gift as returned property, I suppose. One of your men lost this when passing through the hub portals.”

Titus smacked his brow. “That fool Scorpus! I'll tan his backside with his own belt.”

Quintus said evenly, “Hush, Titus. What of it? This is ours, but only a buckle—purely decorative.”

“Well, I don't think that's true, is it? You know, Tiso Inca destroyed Rome, but after that we pursued you surviving Romaoi to your eastern heartlands, beyond your capital. There the conclusion of the campaign of conquest was less destructive . . .”

“The provinces of Graecia and Asia Minor,” Michael said quickly.

“Yes,” Quintus murmured. “Breadbasket of the empire. The imperial troops must have pulled back there in the face of the Inca advance, tried to establish shorter frontiers.”

“Which is maybe why these Incas call us ‘Romaoi,' which is the Greek term.”

Inguill listened to this carefully, as if filing away the words on her bits of knotted string, Mardina thought. “After the surrender, your citizens became subject to the Sapa Inca of the time. But compared to Italia, these eastern Romaoi had retained much of the fabric of their civilization, the farms, the cities—and their records. You had libraries, impressive histories. So I know much about you, you see. I can even read your peculiar language, the strange symbols you use where we use our
quipus
, the placement of knots on strings . . .” She held up the buckle. “I know what the words and numbers on this object say.” She picked out the molding:
Legio XC Victrix
. “The ninetieth legion, known as the victorious. Something like that? But, you see, there have been no Romaoi legions since the third century after Yupanqui. And there were never as many as ninety. Yet here is this belt buckle, five hundred years later. Here you are, in your hovels, in your field, muttering about campaigns fought and booty won, and calling this man ‘Centurion' when you think nobody is listening.”

Quintus almost stood up in his anger, but controlled himself. “You have spies here?”

“I don't need them. Every
ayllu
is riddled with
yanakunas
, all of whom have ears and eyes and a memory, and all of whom will tell all they know to be spared a whipping. Our inspectors sample such sources on a regular basis.” She faced him. “I think you are a fragment of a Romaoi legion, half a millennium after no such legion can exist. What do you have to say to that?”

Quintus kept a dignified silence, evidently unsure, Mardina realized, where all this was leading.

“A gift for a gift,” Inguill said now. “That is what we agreed.”

“That's what you imposed on us,” Quintus growled.

“And the gift I want is the truth. Come now,” Inguill said silkily. “I know much of it already. I know for instance that few of you have learned our language properly—this girl, Mardina, being an exception.”

Mardina bowed her head.

“The others of you rely on prompts. As if somebody whispers in your ears. A spirit on your shoulders, perhaps, translating from the people's tongue to Latin and back again?” She pointed at Chu Yuen. “And all of you are more confident when this boy is close by, with the pack that never leaves his presence. We are only playing a game. You. The Xin, Chu Yuen. Show me what is in your bag. I won't take it from you. Just show me.”

Chu glanced at Quintus, and at Michael.

The ColU spoke now, from a small speaker inside the pack. “Do as she says, Chu Yuen.”

Hearing this disembodied voice, the two soldiers behind Inguill drew their weapons, short stabbing swords. Titus growled and would have got to his feet in response, had Quintus not grabbed his arm.

Quintus called, “Collius? Are you sure?”

“She already knows so much, Centurion. And in the end we are all trapped in this situation together, the Inca as much as us.”