may follow after this present hour of peace and love and plenty.

Certainly one thing will follow, and that is death. It may come late
or it may come soon. But yesterday a rumour reached me through my spies
that Kari Upanqui, the Inca of Tavantinsuyu, he who once was as my
brother, but who now hates me because of his superstitions, and because
I took a Virgin of the Sun to be my wife, gathers a great host to follow
on the path we trod many years ago when the Chancas fled from the Inca
tyranny back to their home in the ancient City of Gold and to smite us
here. That host, said the rumours, cannot march till next year, and then
will be another year upon its journey. Still, knowing Kari, I am sure
that it will march, yes, and arrive, after which must befall the great
battle in the mountain passes wherein, as of old, I shall lead the
Chanca armies.

Perchance I am doomed to fall in that battle. Does not the rune upon
Wave-Flame, the sword of Thorgrimmer my ancestor, say of him that holds
it that,

"Conquering, conquered shall he be,
And far away shall sleep with me"?

Well, if the Chancas conquer, what care I if I am conquered? 'Twould be
a good death and a clean, to fall by Kari's spear, if I knew that Kari
and his host fell also, as I swear that fall they shall, St. Hubert
helping me. Then at least Quilla and her children would live on in peace
and greatness since they can have no other foe to fear.

Death, what is death? I say that it is the hope of every one of us and
most of all the exile and the wanderer. At the best it may be glory; at