PREVIOUSLY.
[Mama Ocllo clutched the paper tightly, crumpling it slightly.
The face of her son, Huayna Cápac, radiant and proud amidst the ceremonial dances in the plaza, crossed her mind. She would ensure that her son ruled an eternal empire, and if that divine knowledge from the north was a threat, she would learn to master it, or to destroy it.
"There shall be no arrogance in my son's palace," the Queen Dowager decreed, pinning the priest with a glacial stare. "You will remain by my side, Sicaza. You will teach me more of the secrets of that furnace, and you will tell me everything you know about the limits of this paper. If that young northern leader rules with an iron fist, the new Inca shall learn to be made of stone."]
3rd Person POV (Sicaza)
Five years later.
Year 11 of the SuaChie Calendar, Third Month (May 1493).
Cajamarca (Cajamarca, Peru), Tahuantinsuyo (Inca Empire).
The frigid wind sweeping down from the Andean peaks scoured the cobbled plazas of Cajamarca, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of roasted maize, damp llama wool, and burning queñua wood.
Five years had passed since that tense conversation in the palaces of Cusco, and the city where Sicaza now resided pulsed with the frantic heartbeat of one of the largest economic and administrative centers in the Tahuantinsuyo.
Sicaza walked through corridors flanked by stone walls fitted together with divine precision. He was no longer the ragged, exiled priest seeking asylum. His figure, now draped in a fine mantle of dark vicuña wool and adorned with discreet but heavy silver bracelets, projected a serene, almost spectral authority.
The old Muisca priest sighed, letting the biting air fill his lungs.
Two years had passed since Mama Ocllo Coya had drawn her final breath. Sicaza still remembered the relentless coldness of the Queen Dowager—a woman who had kept her word to forge her son's spirit in stone before departing to Inti's embrace.
Huayna Cápac, now the undisputed Sapa Inca, had assumed absolute control of the empire, guided by his mother's final counsel—counsel that, from the shadows, had been cunningly whispered by Sicaza himself.
The initial strategy had been ambitious: advance into the hostile interior of the continent toward the impenetrable plains of the Gran Chaco, while simultaneously pressing to the deep south, where the late Túpac Yupanqui had failed against the indomitable ferocity of the Araucanians.
However, the Chaco proved to be a green, muddy hell. The stifling climate and the complete lack of solid bedrock made the construction of traditional Inca stone fortresses an astronomical and logistically unviable expense.
It was in this moment of stagnation that Sicaza played his masterstroke.
Capitalizing on the profound respect he had earned; he suggested the unthinkable to the Sapa Inca: to open a limited and strictly controlled stream of commerce with the nascent Suaza Kingdom in the distant north. The results were immediate and overwhelming.
The trade envoys, covertly mediated by Sicaza, brought to the Tahuantinsuyo treated-wood construction techniques that withstood the Chaco's humidity, tools made of a bronze vastly superior to anything Inca metallurgists could forge, and flooded-terrace farming methods that transformed the quagmire into storehouses of food.
That territorial advance, coupled with the apparent stability on the northern frontier, had won Huayna Cápac the absolute devotion of the royal panacas and the empire's most veteran generals.
Sicaza—the foreigner, the exile—had become an indispensable advisor.
"The Sapa Inca awaits you, counselor," announced an elite guard, interrupting Sicaza's musings as they reached the massive doors of the royal enclosure.
The chamber's interior was warmly lit by braziers of solid gold burning with coca leaves and palo santo. In the center, standing before an enormous map of clay and wool spread across a low table, was Huayna Cápac.
The Sapa Inca, adorned with the red mascapaicha crowning his head, looked tense. The youthfulness of his face stood in stark contrast to the heavy darkness of his eyes.
"Enter, Sicaza," Huayna Cápac ordered, without lifting his gaze from the map. "Approach."
The priest obeyed, stopping at a respectful distance. He watched the Inca's fingers trace the vastness of the Chinchaysuyo, the empire's northern region.
"The conquests in the Chaco advance, and the south resists, but remains contained," the sovereign began, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls. "And yet, the spirits of my ancestors will not let me sleep. I have a heaviness in my chest... an ominous premonition. I feel that while my armies sink into the mud of the southeast, I am neglecting the north. I sense that something immense, something silent, is brewing just beyond our jungles."
Sicaza kept his face inscrutable. He knew exactly what that "something" was.
The Suaza Kingdom, under Chuta's command, was expanding at a terrifying pace, devouring cultures and territories through its intricate web of commerce and diplomacy.
"The Sapa Inca's concerns are never unfounded, for the earth itself speaks through your blood," Sicaza replied, using a soft, almost paternal tone. "It is the instinct of a wise ruler to keep his eyes on all horizons."
Huayna Cápac looked him in the eye, searching for the truth his mother had always sworn this foreigner possessed.
"This Suaza Kingdom you hail from, Sicaza... their tools have saved our campaign in the Chaco, but their presence on our borders unsettles me. Should I mobilize the battalions of the Chinchaysuyo?"
Sicaza steepled his hands beneath his mantle, calculating every word.
He wanted the Inca Empire to be the anvil upon which Chuta would be forged through the hammer blows of tragedy, but a premature war would obliterate both sides before they reached their true potential.
"Lord of the Tahuantinsuyo, a leader must be like the condor: observing from the heights before striking," Sicaza counseled with serenity. "The presence of the Suaza, who are now your commercial allies, makes not a single dent in your sacred sovereignty. They are merchants, builders of roads, not conquerors thirsting for your cities... To move troops north now would only broadcast fear and stem the flow of bronze your men so desperately need in the south. What truly must occupy the Inca's mind are the Guaraní in the southeast; they are the beast tearing at your borders today, not the merchant who sells you the blade."
Huayna Cápac's face visibly relaxed. He sighed and nodded, stepping back from the map.
"You are right, Sicaza. Your counsel echoes what my own men have told me. I recently consulted with Chalco Mayta, the Tocricoc of our northern lands. He has sent dispatches assuring me that, while the Suaza's commercial expansion has reached our vicinity, they have never crossed the line with hostility. His reports speak only of peace and abundant tributes."
The faintest of smiles, sharp and hidden in the room's shadows, tugged at the old priest's lips.
Chalco Mayta, Sicaza thought with deep irony.
The Sapa Inca, in all his glory, had no inkling of the true reason behind his Imperial Governor's peace of mind. Huayna did not know that, years ago, it had been Sicaza himself who had reached out to the Suaza agents on the border, instructing them exactly how and with what to bribe the greedy Chalco Mayta.
The northern Tocricoc was receiving exclusive shipments of Suaza iron tools, textiles of a quality that left Inca looms steeped in envy, and exotic spices delivered directly into his private coffers.
In exchange for these immensely lucrative, secret trade ties, Chalco Mayta took it upon himself to filter, doctor, and sugarcoat any report regarding the Suaza military buildup long before it ever reached the ears of Cusco or Cajamarca.
Sicaza bowed deeply before the Sapa Inca.
"Chalco Mayta is a faithful servant, Majesty. If he, who is your shield in the north, assures you there is peace, then you may focus the full fury of the Tahuantinsuyo on subduing the beasts of the Chaco."
As he withdrew from the royal chamber, Sicaza felt the weight of destiny upon his stained hands. He was feeding the Inca war machine with the sweat of his own Muisca blood, forging the severe, colossal empire that would one day crash against Chuta.
When that day came, the prophesied youth would have no choice but to abandon his soft diplomacy and become the relentless, bloody god the cosmos demanded.
…
As he withdrew from the royal chamber, Sicaza felt the weight of destiny upon his stained hands. The echo of his footsteps rang against the imposing, polished stone walls of Cajamarca, but his mind no longer paid any heed to the majesty of the Sapa Inca's palace.
He walked with an icy calm, wrapped in his dark tunic, making his way toward his private residence while a whirlwind of memories and meticulous planning occupied every corner of his consciousness.
The first thing that assaulted his thoughts was the terrifying magnitude of the Suaza Kingdom's growth over the past few years.
Upon his departure into bitter exile, Sicaza had understood that Chuta did not resort to traditional martial conquest like the ancient empires; instead, the young leader had opted for far more dominant and subtle expansion tactics, rooted in creating dependencies among neighboring peoples through economic boons, only to later fulfill those needs and peacefully annex them.
It was a gentle domination, yet stifling and inescapable.
The old priest then thought of the monumental labor of his former colleagues, who, abiding by Chuta's directives, had initiated an exhaustive investigation into the deities of other cultures, including the Incas, managing to transform religion into a synergistic blend that united multiple peoples under a shared pantheon.
At first, this dilution of beliefs had struck Sicaza as an absolute betrayal of their own gods, but after immersing himself in the pages of the new Suaza paper books circulating along the trade routes, an epiphany had struck him.
Perhaps the "Son of Heaven" had been right all along. Perhaps the human mind was simply too fragile and limited to comprehend the localized existence of deities, and those gods that distinct peoples worshipped separately were nothing more than the multiple faces of a single, vast cosmic entity.
His reflection was interrupted by the memory of Fagua's unreadable face.
That capable man of Muisca origin, imposed by the Central City as governor of the southwestern region, was a key piece on the Suaza Kingdom's chessboard. Sicaza vividly recalled their covert meeting in the shadows of a border tambo, far from prying eyes.
"You are a long way from your temple, old priest," Fagua had murmured on that occasion, his dark eyes scrutinizing Sicaza beneath the flickering light of a torch.
"My temple is wherever the gods demand I pave the way, Governor," Sicaza had answered serenely, holding his gaze. "We both know to whom we ultimately belong."
Fagua had recognized him instantly, yet made not a single move to expose or betray him to the Inca Empire. In that brief exchange of words, a silent pact of mutual utility was sealed.
Fagua understood that, despite the exile, Sicaza's fundamental loyalty remained tethered to Chuta. For his part, Sicaza perfectly understood that Fagua was the unbreakable shield designated by Chuta to protect the kingdom's vulnerable south.
Together, they had woven a web behind the emperors' backs.
They had ensnared Chalco Mayta, the greedy northern Inca Tocricoc, dragging him to the center of their machinations.
Fagua, channeling privileged information and backing from the central government, had managed to link the economic prosperity of the Tahuantinsuyo's northern provinces to the preservation of peace with the Suaza.
Simultaneously, Sicaza had taken charge of manipulating border agents to bribe Chalco Mayta, ensuring the governor would filter and sweeten his reports, forever favoring the kingdom's peaceful image within the very heart of the Inca court.
However, as he pushed open the heavy wooden door to his residence, a shadow of unease clouded the old priest's mind.
Huayna Cápac, the Sapa Inca, was a wise ruler possessing a formidable intellect.
Far from being a blind pawn, the emperor had actively exploited the flow of limited economic exchange with the Suaza not just to acquire elements used for the Chaco expansion, but also to glean other vital knowledge, ensuring that the Tahuantinsuyo learned from its northern neighbors and strengthened itself immensely in the process.
Sicaza sat down in the gloom of his room, folding his hands in his lap. Despite the immense Inca might currently brewing, one thought restored his peace of mind.
He knew, thanks to the strategic confidences shared with Fagua, that the machinery of the Suaza Kingdom and its network of alliances had reached colossal proportions, becoming practically invincible against any continental threat.
A faint smile touched Sicaza's parched lips.
War was inevitable in the future, but the Inca anvil he was helping to forge would serve only a higher purpose: to shatter Chuta's soft spirit.
One day later.
At dawn the following day, the frigid Andean wind was still scouring the stone streets of Cajamarca when royal emissaries hammered on the door of Sicaza's residence. The urgency etched into their faces brooked no delay; the Sapa Inca required him at the palace immediately.
Sicaza belted his dark tunic, concealing the intrigue beginning to boil in his chest. Just yesterday, Huayna Cápac had seemed to accept peace on the northern border, convinced his attention must turn toward the Chaco.
What could have tipped the scales in a matter of hours?
Crossing the heavy lintels of the palace, the scent of palo santo failed to mask the thick tension suffocating the great hall.
Sicaza swept his one good eye across the room: the generals of the Tahuantinsuyo muttered amongst themselves with ashen faces, and Chalco Mayta, the northern Tocricoc, was sweating coldly in a corner.
In the center, standing beside his golden throne, Huayna Cápac was scowling, projecting a shadow of wrath and profound concern.
Sicaza advanced with measured steps and offered the deep reverence dictated by imperial custom, keeping his eyes downcast.
"Majesty," he greeted, his voice serene and monotonous.
Huayna Cápac snapped out of his reverie, locking his dark eyes on the old priest.
"Sicaza," the emperor began, his deep voice bouncing off the polished stone walls. "Messengers arrived from the coast at dawn, running until their lungs nearly burst. Our fishermen spotted massive shadows on the sea... At first, the most cowardly among them fled to the sands, believing the deities of the depths had surfaced to devour them."
The Sapa Inca paused, clenching his fists.
"But a man with enough courage approached in his raft. They were not monsters. They were boats... boats of a monstrous size, larger than any palace. Colossal ships with immense cloths that captured the wind... My merchants had already heard rumors of strange vessels on your western coasts, but the reports claimed they were ships of ordinary size. This... this defies reason."
Sicaza's heart gave a treacherous lurch, though his face remained as impassive as an obsidian mask.
Giant ships?
Fagua had told him, through the network of merchants crisscrossing the borders, of the marvels of the Suaza shipyards—of the massive Tequendama and Wayamú. Yet, the orders from Chuta himself had been strict: the Suaza armada was to stay far clear of the Inca Empire's coasts to avoid sparking premature paranoia.
Had a captain veered off course by the whims of the ocean?
Then, another, far darker possibility crossed his mind. Fagua had warned him of other men, pale strangers arriving from the other side of the world in great galleons: the Europeans.
If it was, they who prowled the coasts, the continental chessboard had just become infinitely more complex.
"Tell me, foreigner," Huayna Cápac inquired, closing the distance between them. "Do you know what this is? Do these immense mountains of wood belong to your young king in the north?"
Sicaza steepled his hands beneath his tunic, weighing every syllable.
"It is very possible they belong to my former people, Majesty," he replied with the unbreakable calm of a wise elder. "However, I speak to you with absolute frankness: like your merchants, I was only aware of medium-sized vessels. Ships meant to navigate rivers or hug the coast without straying too far... An immense structure like the one your fishermen describe is far beyond anything my eyes witnessed prior to my exile."
Huayna Cápac turned, pacing like a caged puma. The Sapa Inca had already set his mind on leaving Cajamarca to command the southeastern campaign, emboldened by the Suaza's apparent passivity. But this changed the landscape entirely.
The sea, which had always been an insurmountable and secure frontier for the Tahuantinsuyo, now appeared to be the avenue for an opponent whose technical prowess bordered on the divine.
"Is Inti warning me?" the emperor muttered to himself. "Is an opponent capable of mastering the sea brewing on my borders?"
He stopped abruptly and pointed at one of his most decorated generals.
"You!" he barked. "Is the Tahuantinsuyo capable of building such a vessel? If they can conquer the ocean, we must do so as well."
The general paled, bowing his head in reverential fear.
"Majesty... we possess the forests and the resources, but the knowledge eludes us. We do not know how to cure wood to withstand the water in such proportions, nor how to prevent the sea from swallowing such heavy structures... We do not have the designs."
Huayna scoffed in dissatisfaction and turned his gaze back to Sicaza.
"Do you know the way to build them, priest?"
"I do not, great Sapa Inca," Sicaza lied with masterful ease. "At the time of my departure, eight long years ago, such marvels simply did not exist in the northern lands."
Huayna Cápac sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.
"The Son of Heaven..." the emperor murmured. It was the title his late mother, Mama Ocllo Coya, had learned from Sicaza himself years ago. "My mother warned me that his wisdom defied time. I see now her words were not the delusions of old age."
The tension in the hall threatened to spiral into an order for military mobilization to the north—an act that would obliterate Sicaza's meticulous plans. It was then that Chalco Mayta, the Inca governor of the north whose personal coffers overflowed with Suaza bribes and gifts, decided to intervene to protect his interests.
"With your permission, divine Majesty," Chalco Mayta interrupted, taking a hesitant but resolute step forward. "I believe I can shed light upon the Suaza Kingdom's intentions."
Huayna looked at him severely, prompting him to speak.
"A couple of years ago," the Tocricoc continued, clearing his throat, "the northern merchants offered to sell us their vessels—at least the versions that ply the coastlines. They seemed more than willing to share their creations with us... However, due to the strict trade laws dictated from Cusco to protect our economy, the transaction never materialized. If they were conquerors, Majesty, they never would have offered the very instruments of their power to a potential enemy."
Sicaza did not move a single muscle, but internally he celebrated Chalco Mayta's greedy stupidity. He had played his part to perfection.
Huayna Cápac's face softened slowly. The northern governor's logic made sense to the mind of a pragmatic emperor. A conqueror hides his weapons; a merchant puts them up for sale.
A pleased, almost mocking smile tugged at the lips of the Sapa Inca.
"Kind... they are far too kind," Huayna Cápac decreed, relief easing the line of his shoulders. "A leader who sells his secrets for merchandise lacks the instinct for empire. They are merchants, not conquerors. Let them keep building their wooden toys; we shall forge our power with stone and blood in the Chaco."
Sicaza bowed his head in a show of obedience, hiding the dark satisfaction dancing in his pupils. The emperor had taken the bait.
Huayna Cápac believed he had seen the weakness of the north, entirely unaware that those "wooden toys" were the jaws of an empire that, slowly but inexorably, was preparing to devour the world.
.
----
.
[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support. Let's get straight to the chapter comments.
CHAPTER COMMENTS
First, I want to say that as a South American, I have great respect for the cultures that inhabited these lands before colonization, and my top picks would be: Mapuche (from Chile, obviously first), Inca, and Aztec.
The two most well-known, the Incas and Aztecs, had their own characteristic traits, both positive and negative.
For example, when it came to dominating other smaller peoples, the Aztecs would attack them fiercely but then allow them to govern as tributary states. On the other hand, the Incas would attack and then stay put.
The strangest thing of all is that the ones most hated by their neighbors (based on my research, I could be wrong) were the Aztecs.
Another example is their unique architecture. The Aztecs had their pyramids and Tenochtitlan itself, built on a lake. And the Incas had mythical constructions like Machu Picchu, and thousands of kilometers of roads through mountains and valleys.
Now, returning to the plot, I'll just say that the Incas, like the Aztecs, will not disappear at the hands of the Suaza or the Europeans, but will grow and evolve under their pressure.
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS
First, related to the above, I have doubts about whether to directly show the evolution through the perspectives of characters like Huayna Capac or Sicaza, and Moctezuma or Painilli (Menasuca), for the Incas and Aztecs respectively.
The overall plot might get out of hand, and that's my fear. Especially considering that the culture of these two great historical empires is easier to imagine than the fictional Suaza kingdom we're seeing.
I've tried my best to show what the kingdom is like. Covering everything from religion and politics to military affairs and the economy itself. But I've realized that it's very difficult for people to visualize this. It's like entering a fantasy world and trying to imagine everything that happens or the characteristics of that world.
For example, it would have been much easier for me to have written about the Romans and for everyone to understand what I meant. I could have saved myself at least 80 chapters, haha.
---
Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (ON HOLD)
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