“Children?” Megan paled a little. “How awful!”
“Yes, to our Western minds, it doubtless was. However, they were not simply bloodthirsty savages, you know. The sacrifices were done to please or appease their gods, and they were not routinely of children. That occurred only when they were trying to escape the god’s anger, manifested, no doubt, in some sort of cataclysmic natural event—an earthquake, say, or a very long drought, or something of that sort. And on the succession of an emperor, in a ritual called the capac hucha. It was considered a great honor to be one of the chosen children. Only the healthiest and most beautiful were accepted as good enough.”
“An honor I think most of us would decline,” Theo commented.
Coffey gave Megan a small smile and shrugged. “It seems bizarre to us, of course. But one must remember that this was their worship, as sacred to them as our churches are to us. As best we can tell, the Incas believed that their emperor was a god himself. They built each successive holder of the title a grand palace, and the dead emperor was mummified and treated with great reverence. The mummy remained in his palace and was attended by servants and surrounded by his possessions. Rather like the Egyptian burials, except that the servants were not entombed with the mummy but lived and worked in the palace as they always had.”
It seemed a grisly custom to Megan, but she said only, “You must know a great deal about the Incas.”
“I hope I will not appear immodest when I say that I am something of an expert in the field. I was more a naturalist when I went on my first expedition to South America.” He gestured toward the framed ink drawings of jungle scenes that lined one wall of the room. “I sketched those depictions of the flora and fauna of the Amazon. But I became fascinated by the culture and art of the ancient Incas, and gradually, over the years, it was the ancient artifacts of their culture that became my subject of study. The other civilizations are, of course, quite interesting, too—we have rooms devoted to the Mayan culture and the Aztec civilization, as well. But Peru and Ecuador and the Incas have remained my favorite.”
“We are very fortunate, then, to have you as our guide,” Megan replied politely. “When did you first go to South America?”
“About ten years ago,” Coffey replied, and again his gaze flickered over to Theo and back to Megan. He hesitated, and Megan wondered if Theo would say anything about his own presence on the trip.
Theo was silent, and after a moment, Coffey went on, “I went on an expedition up the Amazon. It was fascinating. And, as you can see, it became my all-consuming passion.” He gestured around the room. “Please, let me show you some of the other pieces.”
He led them into the next room, where he pointed out a long knotted string, from which a series of other knotted strings dangled. “This is known as a quipu. It is how the Incas kept records. They had no written language, you see. It’s really quite amazing how they managed such a vast empire—they ruled more than ten million people and their territory covered several modern countries. They were excellent administrators. Their road system was highly developed. They built bridges and shelters a day’s journey apart, where travelers could find lodging. They kept it all in repair. They built temples and palaces, using huge blocks of stone, which they carved and transported—all without the use of the wheel. They did not use mortar, yet the stones fit so well together that they were able to withstand earthquakes.” He stopped and smiled self-deprecatingly. “I apologize. I get carried away, I’m afraid.”
“No, don’t apologize,” Megan told him. “It’s fascinating.”
She looked around the room they had entered. There were numerous shelves containing all sorts of pottery, and once again masks hung on the walls. A glass-fronted cabinet contained a long cloak, brightly colored. Megan realized as she moved closer that it was composed entirely of feathers.
“Oh, my!” she breathed. “This is beautiful.”
“The natives of Peru are skilled craftsmen,” Coffey told her. “This is of much more recent vintage, of course, but I believe that it is similar to garments actually worn by the Inca priests. There were also tunics in which the material was flecked with gold or which were decorated with various gold pendants. They made much use of gold and silver. They called them the ‘sweat of the sun’ and the ‘tears of the moon.’ In Cuzco, the capital city, the temple walls were decorated with sheets of gold. Can you imagine how it must have glittered in the sun?” He sighed. “Unfortunately, most of their gold work was lost when the Spaniards invaded. They tore down the gold decorations and melted them down to ship back to Spain.”
He shook his head sorrowfully. “Greed and religious intolerance destroyed irreplaceable art.”
Megan murmured a sympathetic reply and strolled over to one of the open shelves of objects. There was a cup made of gold, with a whimsical handle in the form of a laughing monkey. There were brightly colored pots, bowls and vases, some with geometrical markings and others with stylized scenes of human and animal forms.
“Look at this, Theo,” she said, turning toward him. She stopped abruptly, swallowing her next words as she realized that his first name had slipped out of her mouth in a far too familiar way. A blush flooded her cheeks.
“They’re lovely, Megan,” he responded. She saw in his eyes a little twinkle of mischief, and she knew that he had noticed not only the slip of her tongue but also the embarrassment that followed it. And he was perversely enjoying both.
Megan’s eyes flashed, and she would have liked to make a heated remark in response to his annoying smile. But she reminded herself that she could not in front of this stranger. So she merely pressed her lips together firmly and turned back to the display.
“The Incas were adept at pottery, then?” she asked to get the conversation back on track. She directed her question to Coffey, keeping her shoulder firmly turned away from Theo.
“Oh, yes. They did not use a wheel but rolled long ropes of clay, then coiled them around into the shape of the pot. The smooth surface was achieved by rubbing them with some sort of flat object. They dried them by simply setting them out in the hot sun. This pot is a very popular form with the Incas. It is called aryballo.”
The vessel to which he pointed was a round, fat pot with two small handles low on the pot and a long neck. It was painted black, with orangish lines running around it and orange geometric shapes.