“She may be dead, smothered alive, when you get her out.” Dick, thinking hard while the old man babbled on in whispers, was hoping against hope.
“That just shows how little you know about it. They are deep tombs, like cupboards, and you can sit in them. Don’t you know the Indians always bury people sitting? There’s air enough in there to keep her alive for an hour, or even two. And I shall have her out in ten minutes!”
Dick stared blindly at the porphyry slabs before him.
“But if there are a hundred of them in there already, there isn’t room for another. Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. You needn’t worry, boy. The pyres are for the two mammaconas who go before the Bride to prepare her chamber in the Enchanted Realms of the Sun.”
“Naturally. They have to take out the oldest bride to make room for my daughter. Then they burn her. What else should they do?”
Dick had almost lost control of his mind.
“The old one, you fool!” retorted Orellana testily. “Didn’t I tell you there were a hundred there? The Sun is given a new bride every ten years. Can you count, or can’t you? That makes one of them a thousand years old.... There’s no harm in burning a wife who is a thousand years old. The Sun has got tired of her by then. Doesn’t he set fire to her pyre himself? That proves it.... Listen. Here they come!”
The chanting grew louder, and soon the priests appeared. Behind them walked the nobles, recognizable by the heavy ear-rings which only descendants of an Inca may wear; they were dressed in sleeveless red tunics, and each man bore a banner on which was embroidered a rainbow, its brilliant hues varying to mark the coat-armor of each house. Next came young girls of noble family, who in the old days would have become Virgins of the Sun, ending their lives on the altars of the deity, or as the wives of the Inca. They were followed by their adult brothers, wearing the white robes, crosses embroidered on the breast, which were the traditional costume of men of their caste about to enter the order of knighthood. After them, the curacas, chiefs of the races conquered by the Incas and of all the tribes which had taken the oath of fealty. These men wore multi-colored tunics, unadorned with gold.