A/N: Okay, there is a little of background that you need to know about Machu Picchu. Some may know it and some may not. Machu Picchu is often referred to as the 'Lost City of the Incas'. Machu Picchu's inhabitants were Incas that fled Cusco when it was invaded by the Spanish conquistadors, also called 'the conquers'. Even though most construction took place in the 15th century, many buildings and temples were added as the population grew, because of more Inca cities being destroyed and the Incas moving to this safe haven.
There is not a lot known about the Incas, as all the information we have is given to us by archeological evidence. The facts in this chapter are the facts on which historians have agreed on based on the information. If you have any complaints or comments about the information please tell me in your reviews, no one is perfect…except me ;)
Rose of Shade: Can you explain the new penname; I don't get it. Is the R for him and the S for you or…actually, I think that it is a better idea that you explain it. Thanks for the reviews, you know I like them. Hehe, yes, I do like the name Pythagoras, it sounds very wise…maybe because it is a theorem :) Tell me what you think of Moonstone and keep reviewing!
Smithy: It would be very sad if Will became a widower…but I guess you'll have to wait until the next chapter to know:) Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer, you don't know how much I appreciate it!
Vampirehelsing: Thanks for you tip on how to successfully update, I have a few problems but it really helped! Your opinion is good, I like opinions, furthermore, I completely agree with you, Will would probably become a mindless zombie for a while…but would that further the plot:) lol! Thanks for your reviews, they mean the world to me!
Mysterious-muse: You really find a way to flatter me :) I am happy that you liked the last chapter; it is like bringing back the old gang! Keep in mind that Will, Elizabeth and Jack are only about 38 years old…certainly not old at all! Still looking good! Lol! Tell me what you think of my new character Moonstone after this chapter, I want to know what to do with her and your opinion is really valuable!
Erebus: IF André does die, I'll make sure that it is an obsidian blade. Just read this chapter and don't come back to tell me that it is nothing about the Incas and they could be slaves anywhere else. Where else in the entire world would they send you into the mountains to pick up llama dung for fuel eh?
Now, knowing that I already put a disclaimer and I do own everything except the fact that they are the progeny of Will, Elizabeth and Jack…okay, maybe Port Royal too…I give you (drum roll) …
Chapter VIII: Machu Picchu
Life screamed out from the stone city. Birds chirped and sung overhead and llamas grazed in the fields beside the hardworking farmers. Buildings were made out of stones and dirt, blending in with the rock and moss of the mighty Andes. The small valley was a pocket amid the tall and ancient mountains, a safe heaven of time. The city was a capsule of angles, straights and Inca art decorating the faces of the granite rocks. Light cast by the sun was cut off by the mountains, allowing just enough sun to reach the square buildings that dotted the valley. A trickling river splashed by the fields, providing irrigation and briefly passed the great rock quarries where the slave men and boys worked, sweat basking their bodies. The silent condor flew overhead, his majesty filling Mach Picchu with life.
Miriam observed the condor fly overhead, her face tilting slightly in the light. Tendrils of hair escaped her simple braid that swished faintly in the invisible breeze. She wore a harsh brown wool dress her mistress had given her but a few minutes ago. As soon as they had arrived at Machu Picchu, Acahuana and Urcon had left them, instructing the slave masters to split them and show them to work. All the young women had been chained together and the young men to another chain. André hadn't liked the idea of being separated from Miriam, but there was nothing any of them could have done. André was taken to the quarry to work immediately while Miriam was marched off with the rest of the women. Two times during their march along the city streets they had picked up more slaves, all women. Three times they had dropped off slaves until there were only ten slaves left. Through the streets of the stone city they had been lead to a large home with many balconies and levels; Lord Acahuana and Urcon's mansion. Both men were married and had many children; Acahuana, being the eldest, had five sons and three daughters, Urcon only had one son and four daughters. Acahuana's wife was a kind lady, the same age as the lord. The slaves had seen the women as the y had passed by an unfurnished room, all the men and women sitting on mats on the stone floor. Urcon's wife was much younger, about the same age as Miriam. She had cold eyes and a stony face. Her long black hair and perfect skin made her magnificently beautiful, but as beautiful as a block of ice. Miriam had approved of her as Urcon's wife; both she and he were completely emotionless. All the slaves had been given their dress and left in a small chamber with but three windows. They waited, as the condor flew above the ancient city.
"Where were you caught?" The voice caught Miriam completely by surprise. A young woman, one of the slaves had spoken. She was around the same age as Miriam with long white hair. Her eyes were of the brightest emerald green in the Amazon.
"So?" she asked again.
Miriam looked at her squarely in the eyes, her soft hazel ones no match for the young woman's intense green eyes, "I was caught in my home city of Port Royal. You?"
A thin smile spread over the white haired girl's face, "On a boat. I was headed for the southern plantations of America. Moonstone is what they call me. Do you have a name?"
"Miriam."
"Pleased to meet you."
"As am I," responded Miriam, sensing as the ice broke between them.
Moonstone smiled genuinely, "Have you seen all those children? It is amazing all of them survived to their current ages. The older lord has three daughters, but they are still small and can die. His four younger sons of ten or nine are not as vulnerable and his eldest, the one of twenty years is indeed quite handsome and appealing," Moonstone's green eyes sparkled.
Miriam looked at her in disapproval, "He is the heir to this mansion and the family name. Apart from having all those honors and prestige and probably being completely spoiled, he an Inca who approves our enslavement and is in no way whatsoever appealing."
Moonstone laughed, "You don't like him, do you?"
Miriam locked her jaw, "No."
"Got someone else in mind? Already have a sweetheart?" Moonstone asked, leaning back and looking over her nails.
Miriam blushed a deep crimson. "I most certainly do not!" she hissed.
"What's the problem? Do you have some sort of aversion to all men?" Moonstone commented lightly.
"No. I just don't have anyone else in mind and prefer not to think of those things. Okay?"
"That's alright with me, but personally, I think that you just like someone and don't want to admit it."
It took an enormous amount of will for Miriam to constrain from throwing a heavy object directly at Moonstone. "I DO NOT LIKE ANYONE!" Miriam near screamed.
Moonstone lifted her eyes and observed Miriam, "You don't have to scream. In fact, I'll be more likely to believe you if you don't scream."
"I do not like anyone. I might be a little touchy about emotional attachment because I just lost my twin brother a week or so ago, but I do not like anyone," Miriam explained, her voice dead calm.
Moonstone looked up, a horrified expression on her face, "You were in love with your brother?"
Miriam looked back at Moonstone, her expression even more mortified than that which Moonstone wore, "Chris? Are you mad! My own brother? God no, not that way! I loved him like a brother and we were very close…but any other way! No. That is just repulsing to think about!"
Moonstone grinned, "Miriam! I was only joking!"
Miriam shook her head, "Don't do that. I am still in mourning for him."
Moonstone's eyes softened, "I am sorry…how did it happen?"
There were no tears in Miriam's eyes, "He caught managi on the slave ship and was too weak to be bought by the Incas for their purposes."
"That is just another reason why you don't like the Incas, am I correct?" Moonstone put in.
Miriam nodded as the hide that covered the door frame of the small chamber was pulled aside. A stern old lady looked over them all, her bronze skin shining in the light. Her long black hair, streaked with white, was done in an elegant braided bun at the back of her head, a folded piece of cloth pinned to her hair. She had squinty black eyes and a wide mouth. Her face was covered in the wrinkles of time. Unusually, her forehead was elongated. Miriam had noticed that all Incas had this deformity when she had traveled up the paved roads of Machu Picchu. This had not been easy to notice in Acahuana and Urcon as they had worn great headdresses. The old woman was small in stature, and while sitting, Miriam was still the same height.
"You are all the girls they give me? How am I to run this house? Eh? How?" she muttered, her head moving with the words she spoke in her Inca accent. It was clear the Incas spoke another language. This was something that had before escaped Miriam as well, since Acahuana and Urcon seemed so gifted for other languages other than their own. The old woman shook her head, a resigned expression on her wrinkled face, "Well, this will have to do," she brushed an invisible dust particle off her white sleeved dress, which showed her higher status in the family. She wore no sandals on her feet. Clearing her throat she took in a breath before she talked, "Alright you girls, you are to serve in the household of the Acahuana ayllu. My lord's wife, Anahuarque is now your mistress, my lord Urcon's wife, Chic'ya, will be your mistress if lord Acahuana should die until lord Acahuana's eldest son, Acahuana, takes a wife of his own."
Moonstone looked at the old woman quizzically, "Do we report to them?"
The stern woman shot Moonstone a withering glaze as she turned her head amazingly quick to look at Moonstone in the eyes, "You shall not speak unless spoken to! You report? What is this? You are a slave and report to no one. You follow my orders and do not report."
Moonstone bowed her head at the old woman, a sign of respect the stern lady acknowledged, "Good. I am Cuva, and you shall follow my orders and do what I tell you. All are dressed, yes?"
The young women nodded solemnly.
"Good. Now, there is a lot of work to be done, so, I will divide you into…" Cuva trailed off as she counted the ten girls around her, "three groups. There is much work to be done before the festival of Inti Ramyi. Three of you shall go to the mountain with the llama and alpaca herders. Pick up all llama dung and bring it back, it is to be used as fuel. You other three will aid the spinners spin the alpaca wool into cloth, then bring it to the maga who will cut it and sew it into clothes. The remaining four will be chicha slaves one day and dye wool another. You two will be chicha slaves today and tomorrow dye alpaca wool. You two stay so I can explain how to dye the wool. All rest leave, Inti Ramyi is not but few suns away."
The young women emptied out of the small room. Their faces were bare and shallow, doomed before their enslavement lives began. Bare feet trailed on the stone floor, dragging dust with them. The brown wool dresses blended with the dark wall, and the slaves' eyes glinted furtively as they closed the door behind them. Miriam shifted in her chair and looked over at her companion: Moonstone. The young woman was luxuriously combining her long radiant white hair. Miriam looked at her own brown wavy hair done plainly in a braid and felt like a dishcloth beside a silk handkerchief.
"Now, you two are to dye the wool of the Acahuana ayllu. This is a great task to be appointed to and I expect no mistakes, understood?" Cuva grumbled, her hands on her hips.
Miriam saw Moonstone's rich hair flow over her shoulders as she nodded.
"Good. Alpaca wool is soft and absorbs much dye. All wool you will dye red today. Clothes are dyed, colored outside in the courtyard; there is a basin and scrubber you can use. I have set the clothes outside in a basket for you to dye. Use the madder roots sparingly, as well the soap; it is made of llama milk and mountain flowers, a rare commodity, only for our great ayllu. The basin needs to be filled with water, get buckets and go down to the Urubamba River to do so. You will first pound the madder leaves until a soft red paste results. Fill basin with water and wool and empty the paste in basin. Mix with the rama provided. When the wool has absorbed all the liquid and there is no more red in water empty water. Then braid the grass stalks and set aside for sandals. Once you have let the wool rest for a while wash the cloth free of the excess dye with soap and more water. You will report to the slave barracks once done." the severe woman departed through the exit, pulling the hide over the opening behind her.
Moonstone looked over at Miriam, her green eyes smiling, "Well, where do you think she keeps the buckets?"
o o o
The buckets were hard to find. Moonstone and Miriam had wandered the great palace, searching all the rooms many times with no result. No rooms had furniture. Mats and cushions spread on the floor, but furniture lacked in the entire building. Everything was made of stone, its angular and quadratic rooms forming the magnificent residence. Moss and small fountains adorned chambers and halls alike. Light streamed in open windows, turning green as it traveled through the plants set on the window frames. The Andes' presence was felt in the still air, the breathing walls and brightly colored wool carpets. There were no doors in the entire structure. In areas that demanded privacy, the stone frames of the openings were covered with animal hide. Miriam had been trifling through the contents of a small storage compartment when Cuva found them. The authoritative old woman settled her hands on her hips and glared, her black eyes burning holes through both Miriam and Moonstone.
"What is this?" she commanded.
"We were looking for buckets," responded Miriam, her head bowed.
Cuva sighed loudly, murmuring rapidly in Inca under her breath. She waddled away, beckoning them to follow her.
A courtyard greeted them, the tepid noon sun warming their faces. A low fence of stones ended the courtyard on the face of the Andes Mountains. Vines and mosses grew unchecked on the fence, climbing the walls of the house. To one side of the house stood the large basin, with three scrubbing pads, two bars of milky white soap, piles of madder roots, terracotta bowls and a large bronze basket full of white alpaca wool, flowing out like a fountain. Cuva motioned them to look at the three simple wood buckets that stood beside the bronze basket, her face tilted up completely as Miriam and Moonstone towered over her short frame.
"You are not to do anything in the house without my given permission. Understand? Buckets here. Go to river and get water," Cuva pointed, her long hair never escaping the pins that held it.
"We are sorry," Moonstone offered, her green eyes flashing with anything but an apology.
Cuva bristled, "SORRY? Slaves do not speak, they WORK! I would BEAT you both of your IMPERTINECE, but the ladies will not allow it. Now GO!"
Miriam took two buckets in her hands and left, not trusting herself beside the old woman. She would not be able to withhold her anger and it wouldn't help her situation if she were to kill the old Inca. Forcing Moonstone to take a bucket she ushered them both out of the courtyard, shutting the door behind her.
"That old woman thinks she can command me? Who in the hell does she think she is!" Moonstone vented, turning her head to fix her intense green eyes on the old woman.
Miriam elbowed Moonstone, "Watch it."
"Why?" the white haired woman demanded.
Miriam turned her flashing hazel eyes to her, "We are slaves, or do you not remember?"
"I remember, but I am a captain of my own ship! I have raided the Mediterranean from coast to coast and still an old woman thinks she can control me!"
Miriam stopped and turned to face Moonstone, "I don't care if you used to be the King of Spain. You are now a slave, hear me? A slave! Follow your orders; give me some time to think of some way to escape."
Moonstone narrowed her eyes. "I am not only Captain of The Night and the one of the most feared pirates in the Mediterranean but daughter of the King of Italy…I am no slave."
Miriam felt her eyes widen, "You are a Princess of Italy?"
"No. My mother was not the Queen," Moonstone yawned, her eyes showing no sign of hatred, anger or repulsion.
Miriam nodded and began walking once more towards the river, "So, who was your mother?"
Moonstone laughed behind her, "No need to sound like someone just died! I am proud and happy of my parentage. There is nothing more normal than a Prince in love with a beautiful pirate. My mother and father were young and life is so short lived. I admire my parents. They had me then left, my father to become King and my mother to roam the seas, there is nothing simpler in life like that."
Miriam's voice was plain, "You are the King of Italy's bastard."
"No. I am Moonstone. Reproduction is to create a new generation, to allow the human race to continue. Parents have only one duty to their children; to produce them and give them life. Either than that, just the passing of their traits, there is nothing more; after all, they are just any woman and any man."
Miriam admired the young woman behind her; she was a proud woman who, though she placed little value on love and romance, was more human than anyone Miriam had ever met.
o o o
The soft trickling of water was heard long before they saw the Urubamba River. The water splashed on the rocks, lapping the shore. It was not wide; the height of an adult already surpassed the width of the blue water. Light sparkled on the crystal clear liquid, sending rays of light on the faces of the many women washing their clothes around it. Bubbles from the soap disappeared under the water, never surfacing again. Refreshing air spread around the river, forming a wall of relief from the heat that surrounded the valley. Chatter rose from the area as the women spoke amongst themselves, talking of gossip and rumors.
Miriam and Moonstone walked down to the river, smiling at the sight of all the life.
"To bad that we can't wash the clothes down here," commented Moonstone, her fingers drawing up her waist length hair into a large bun behind her head.
Miriam nodded, "Do you think that they are all slaves like us?"
"No, they talk Inca, and I highly doubt that any slave, no matter how smart can learn that language if the orders are given in our language."
"It can't be that hard, you don't give us enough credit."
"With the mortality rate amongst slaves! No, we aren't likely to live up to two years in this environment, and the way the old woman spoke, it seemed as if we are beat a lot more than we should be."
Miriam sighed in realization, "That is why I must come up with some sort of plan to get us out here."
"Us? I am really honored that you should consider me friend enough to save my life."
They came to halt in front of an imposing guard. Miriam looked up, her eyes inquiring the reason of his blockage. His dark eyes looked over her, traveling from her bare feet to her brown wool dress. He held a flint tipped spear decorated with multicolored feathers in large bronze hand. When he spoke, Inca words flowed out roughly.
"I can't understand you," explained Miriam.
The man looked at them more closely, "You can not see river water down this to women."
Moonstone looked at the man, her eyes confused, "Huh?"
Seeing that neither Miriam nor Moonstone understood him, he sighed. Taking Miriam forceful by the upper arm he started walking down the river.
"What in the hell are you doing to her! Can't you just talk, or do you have to take her by the arm, bruise her and kill her before you do?" Moonstone burst, grabbing the guard by the back of his shirt. The man turned, letting go of Miriam as he faced Moonstone.
"No stay here, part for not you. Go down to queeeeryy," he chewed on the word, "There water river for slave chains."
Miriam rubbed her arm were he had grabbed her, "He just wants us to go down the river to take water there."
Moonstone laughed, "And I though that he was going to kill you! Man, I can be really dense sometimes."
Miriam nodded to the guard, who happy they had finally understood began walking down to guard the other women by the river. Moonstone bounced forth, her long white hair, loose once more, swaying in the breeze.
They heard the chisel on rock, the hammer on the stone and the shovel in the dirt before they saw the quarry. Men worked hard under the sun, their labored breathing heard even by Miriam and Moonstone farther down the river. The water evened out and was nothing but a mere ghost once it finally passed through the stones and men. Miriam could see the young men clearly and her face constricted into a frown when she saw an old man fall to the ground, exhausted. A young man stepped forth and took the old man's place…coal black hair partly done in braids was covered with a blue bandana. Miriam was shocked to see André, his tanned chest bare with his loose white blouse around his waist. André lifted his face, wiping the sweat off his forehead when he stopped, his bright blue eyes resting on her form by the river. She saw his mouth split into a grin, white teeth flashing and realized how ugly and stupid she must look. Her brown dress was plain, and her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a single braid. She looked down, feeling her face flush a deep red when she heard his voice over the noise of the quarry.
"Miriam!" he called, waving his arm.
His grin flashed in the air, and she could barely bring up her hand as she waved back shyly. Men behind him whistled and patted him on the shoulder, but Miriam hardly noticed, aware only of her bright red face.
Moonstone chuckled softly behind her, "So you don't like anyone…"
Miriam lifted her face to turn and glare at Moonstone, only making the young woman laugh harder. "Miriam! Your face!" she gasped in between laughs.
"What, what is wrong with my face?" snapped Miriam, her eyes flashing.
Moonstone laughed louder, her body shaking, "It's all red!"
Miriam could feel the smoke emitting from her ear. Not wanting to harm the young woman she furiously dunked a bucket under the cool liquid of the waning river. She heard the rocks and stones shaped with the hammer and the chisel. She also heard the crack of a whip and the low growl that came from André's throat.
André let his chisel fall to the floor and turned to face the large man before him. He wore a black poncho over his shoulders and black pants. A belt adorned with instruments of torture.
"Get back to work ye slave! It ain't your little pet that is going to keep you from cutting stones!" the slave master hollered, cracking his whip in the air.
André growled, "What did you call her?"
The slave master turned to look at André surprise shown on his muscular face. His bald head glinted in the light as he laughed, "She's you pet ain't she?"
"No. She is not anyone's anything," André said, his voice dead calm. Miriam didn't deserve the harsh and condemning words that came out of this man's throat.
"If she's not your pet, then she'll be mine. She's to pretty a lass to be wasted," the muscular man sneered.
André felt his hand tighten into fist as he weighted the man in front of him. The man strong, his body toned with muscles acquired from beating the men on the quarry. Though André was exceptionally tall, this hard man in front of him made up for his lack of height with his sheer muscle. They were evenly matched in physical strength. André smiled; he knew many tricks that came from being a pirate this man wouldn't. Adding that to the man's confidence in himself, André had the advantage.
"I am giving you one last warning; do not repeat your slur."
"Pet."
André was quick. In one smooth motion he was on top of the man, tackling him to the floor. Clouds of white dust rose about them as André secured a fist on the man's jaw. Chisels dropped all around the fighting men as slaves found their new leader. The slave master punched André solidly in the stomach, sending him flying off. The muscular man positioned himself on top of André and gave him a concrete blow across the face, cutting André's lower lip. Blood flowed from his mouth, but André didn't care, slipping his leg to the side he rolled over, kicking the man away from him. Ruby blood stained his tanned hand as he wiped the blood off his lip, and threw himself on the slave master, receiving another blow on the stomach. Cries and shouts were heard beyond the white dust that enveloped them. André just had time to deliver one final strike before he was dragged off the slave master.
Two slave masters lifted the muscular man off the ground, relived that he was only badly bruised. They set him on a stone to rest and turned to the struggling young man in front of them. He was tall, his black hair held back by a blue bandana. Blood flowed freely from his cut lip and his tanned chest held a few black and blue bruises. He couldn't have been older than twenty.
"You are a slave, boy," the man hissed through his missing teeth.
The young man lifted his head, his amazingly bright blue eyes flashing and promptly spit into the man's face, "André to you."
The slave master blinked in fury; never before had a slave, a lowly slave spit in his face. Swiftly bring up his foot he kicked the obstinate slave in the stomach with all the strength he could muster.
André fell to the ground, pain cursing through him as he gasped. The foot again lifted in the air, before he could move, it landed squarely on his side, knocking the air out of him. Other slave masters joined in, kicking him as he tried to stop the force of the blows on the ground. The feet came to his side, his stomach, his legs, his back. André felt his body bruising and throbbing. He felt a rib crack and it was all he could do not to holler in pain. The slave master would not have the pleasure to hear him. It lasted a lifetime; André felt his defense give up as he slumped on the floor, his eyes closed and his body lifeless. The slave masters departed, laughing and talking hurriedly in their language.
No one helped him. Chisels were picked up and hammers broke the stone beneath them. No one helped him. His body ached and he felt blood begin to flow anew from his lip. His eyelids were forced open as he looked over to the river. Miriam had forgotten her bucket as it sailed peacefully down the Urubamba, flowing down towards the quarry. Her beautiful hair was still in the breeze. A stunning white haired young woman behind her held Miriam as she struggled to get free. André the pain on her face and his brow furrowed in concern. His blue eyes disappeared beneath his eyelids as he lost consciousness; the sound of the chisels on stone fading into the distance as his world turned black.
A/N: That is a long chapter, it might appear shorter because the screen is very wide, but that is eight pages in Microsoft word, Times New Roman 12pt. Expect another chapter soon! And like always…remember the 3Rs! Review, Review and Review:) Oh! In your reviews, tell me what you think about my newest character Moonstone, I want to know what you think of her…so I might know how to handle her life :) lol. Hehe…That is two cliffhangers we have pending…is Elizabeth dead? Is André alright after his horrible beating? I know that this cliffhanger isn't as fatal as the last one, but I know that you all love André :) So enjoy!
