excerpt
The cacique spoke, and Tamanoa’s face turned pale.
“The cacique says that-that-that,” Tamanoa hemmed. “He wants
you to give him the white woman. He says he will return her in the
morning.”
A smothered gasp passed among the men. Gregorio’s hands
tensed on the harquebus. Losada stiffened, but his face remained
impassive.
“Tell him she is a witch, that I bring her along because she belongs
to the horses. Without her near them, they become like devils and
kick and kill, blowing fire through their noses.”
Tamanoa gaped at Losada.
“Tell him, you idiot,” Losada said through clenched teeth.
And so Tamanoa translated and the cacique leaned back,
commenting to the warriors around him. He motioned the ten
maidens to go to Losada. He said something more. “The cacique
asks whether he can touch your corselet.”
Losada straightened to his full height.
“Of course.”
Macarao stood up from his carved stool and walked
ceremoniously towards Losada. He circled around him and
wrinkled his nose, saying something that made all the rest giggle.
“What did he say?”
“That you stink like a skunk.”
The cacique touched his morion and breastplate and flinched as
his breath misted the metal. He touched the scabbard, and Losada’s
left hand flew to the hilt. Twenty arrows pointed at the Spaniards.
“No!” Losada ordered, as the Spaniards reached for their swords
and raised the harquebuses and pikes. “Hold your peace.”
Macarao said something to the warriors, and they relaxed their
grip, lowering their arrows by degrees.
Satisfied, the cacique strolled away and disappeared into one of
the huts, a few of his warriors in his wake.
Libros Libertad 