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"No," I said. "This concerns the two of us alone." I took a deep breath, and
knotted my hands together in my lap. "Aeneas, when will you give me a child?"
He became very still, as a man does who spies an adder coiled beneath his
descending foot. "Lawinia,"
he said. "I thought that you understood."
The day was hot and bright, but I felt suddenly cold. "What was it that I was
supposed to understand?"
"This marriage," he said. "How it would have to be."
"No. I don't understand." I began to feel a new emotion stirring in me, one
that I was unaccustomed to feeling the deep, bitter anger that comes from
loving and from being betrayed. "Explain it to me."
Say whatever else you want about Aeneas the son of Anchises, but he was a
man honest enough to speak the full truth when it was demanded of him, even
though he knew the telling would destroy whatever harmony had grown up between
us.
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"Everything I have done," he said, "from the burning of Wilion until this
moment, I have done because the gods desired it and commanded me. They
intended this homeland in Latium to be for Askanios and his progeny; I will
not go against their will by giving him younger brothers whose claim through
you is greater than his own."
That was the start of our quarrel, and the sum of it, though it lasted longer
and grew worse.
In the end I left him, running from the house in the wildness of my anger, not
caring who if anyone might follow. I took the winding path to the
cliff above the ocean. There, in the solitude of the high place, I
unbound my hair and lifted up my hands to pray to the god who
had marked me once in the cave at
Cumae.
"Great Dian," I said, "if it is your will that I am to be neither your
priestess nor any man's true wife, then help me at least to bear the pain.
Love for Aeneas sits in my heart like a stone, and does me no good; end it,
Great Dian, I beg of you, take it away from me so that at least I will not
care."
Thus I prayed, even while Aeneas was climbing up the path from the
beach below whether he
intended to comfort me or to chastize me, or whether he feared that, like my
mother, I might do myself an injury out of despair, I cannot say and as I
prayed, Great Dian reached out with dazzling light and blinded him for an
instant so that he slipped and fell.
That is what Askanios, following after, saw. Not witchcraft, but the
hand of the god, struck down
Aeneas and sent him to his death.
She finishes speaking and lifts her head to stare at Watis. Torchlight gilds
her face. The young chief and his retinue are watching the elderly seer, but
none of them speak, not even Askanios.
"Do I lie?" Lawinia said. "I submit myself to the judgment of the god."
And the god comes to judge her. Watis feels the icy touch of his hands along
her face and neck. She begins to tremble; she tosses her head back and
pants for breath as the power takes her. Her head snaps forward, but its seems
that she is seeing them all from a great height. The girl crouches at her
feet, the men step back, jostling each other in fear. Her mouth opens at
another's will, and another's voice speaks.
"She is mine. Will any mortal man harm her? She will serve me. Will any mortal
man prevent her? She will speak for me. Will any mortal man silence her?"
Watis gasps for breath. The power slides from her like a wet dress,
leaving her shivering. Her hands clasp each other like claws, then
release. She is seeing them all from the height of her chair and nothing
more. The girl sighs once in sharp relief. The blood has drained from
Askanios's face. He crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his trembling
hands into his armpits, perhaps to hide their involuntary motion from his men.
"Well, Teukrianos?" Watis says. "Man from Wilion, far sailing, Aeneas-son,
will you challenge the god for this girl?"
"Never!" He gulps for breath. "May she serve him well." He turns to his men.
"We'll camp down on the sea coast. Let's go. We've troubled the holy one too
much as it is."
To save their dignity they leave slowly, filing out of the cave with their
heads held high. Watis waits until their footsteps die away, then stands and
hobbles to the mouth of the cave. Lawinia follows. The men are striding down
the path, heading for their horses tethered on the beach below.
"They're gone," Watis says. "Tell me the truth. The god never did say whether
you lied or not."
"My story's true." Lawinia pauses, staring down at the floor. "All except the
very end. In my anger, I
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wished Aeneas dead. That's what I prayed for. And the god gave it to me."
"I thought so. Very well."
"You won't "
"Won't what? Berate you? Condemn you?"
"Just that."
For an answer Watis says merely, "The cave gets cold and damp once the sun
sets. I need to show you your first task."
"Will the god come to me?" Lawinia looks up, her eyes wide.
"No." Watis pauses for a smile. "First you need to learn how to scrub the
shrine's floor."
In the western hemisphere, the Bronze Age was confined to the
Andes, including the Inka people and their neighbors. Spanish chronicles
preserve the complexity of their oral history, including the troubled
succession of
Pachakuteq (who reigned c.a.d. 1438 1471). The colonial writers also
described the quirks of their subjects'
personal lives in devastating detail. Although considered one of the
greatest indigenous rulers of the Americas, Pachakuteq and his family did
not escape their scrutiny, nor that of Karen Jordan Allen.
Orqo Afloat on the Wllkamayu
Karen Jordan Allen
The icy waters of the Willkamayu closed over Orqo as he fell. He still gagged
from the blow to his throat, and when the freezing current flooded his mouth
and nostrils, he thought himself dead. Then rage filled him, pouring a last,
desperate strength into his arms and legs. He clutched his heavy mace and
lunged for the surface. Damn you, Kusi, he thought. You haven't won. Not
yet.
He reached the air, coughing desperately and shuddering as the frigid water
chafed his skin. Then he heard a splash beside him, and a thunk behind.
Stones dropped into the river all around him. He gulped as much air as he
could and dove under the surface. A rock glanced off his back. He kicked and
kicked until his lungs were ready to burst, then lifted his face just out of
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