The Condor Mission (completed)

Chapter 05 - The Amazon Warriors

The training of the warriors passed very fast. The expected eclipse arrived during an andean winter in the Christian year of 1498. Finally, they left from Cuzco in order to reach the jungles and low altitudes of Iquitos, the wild frontier of the Tahuantinsuyo. This prosperous city was the exit portal of the Inca Empire, a province of eternal waters and dense forests. Iquitos was a mandatory stop, the beginning of the route until the Great River, according to the information of Antarchi, the wise.
The eastern wetlands were the last frontier of the Antisuyo, the eastern boundary of the Inca Empire. From then on they would face unknown territories, little explored by the Andean inhabitants, as the wise old man said. For the soldiers of the altitude the climate of the tropical jungle was even more difficult than in the height of the Mesetas. The insects sucked the travelers' blood and patience; on the other hand, the daily rains soaked their clothes and provisions, and also tested the Andean men's meagre patience.
They arrived in Iquito after two moons of hard walks and terrible sleeps. They lost some llamas and left behind unnecessary costumes and accessories for a long time in the humid forest. They learned to dress more or less like the locals. anointed their bodies with natural repellents. They suffered to learn to live in the humid jungle. In Iquitos, they stayed a few days to rest and hired some local guides and porters for the continuation of the journey, the Mission Condor took shape.

They delayed their journey and only left the city after convalescing from a succession of diseases typical of those tropical latitudes: dizziness, headaches, fevers and diarrhea, quite common in that heatwave. The insects abounded and tormented the lives of the foreigners. They were dozens of species of mosquitoes, flies, cockroaches. The Incas had little immunity against this microbiology that was imposed on them the deep jungle.

They traveled on foot for half a lunar cycle until they were able to completely leave behind the frontier of the Tahuantinsuyo and the last remnants of the great Empire. The last barracks and outposts of the Inca trail were left behind. The snowy pointed peaks on the horizon began to give way to the emerald plains and the domed saws. No less beautiful and blunt Pindorama.For the first time in the history of the tireless explorers reached the green ocean on the west side. They were endless networks of forests and fresh water, whose borders and boundaries were never mapped or explored by the Andean people. Legends said that these jungles were home to mythological monsters and barbarian men, who practiced all sorts of enchantments and devilish traps against their enemies, or even travelers.
The guides, local people and extremely suspicious, complained and invariably refused to continue because they said they had entered the territory of icamias, evil women who captured men and devoured them alive. The men there were really terrified, they believed in these stories, but the mission went into the dark woods and got lost in the labyrinth of trails of these legendary locals and the animals that were swarming in the forest.
Wythuya was not afraid when one day they woke up in the morning without the presence of the guides and porters of Iquitos, they knew that the natives were very superstitious and unstable. They had fled at dawn. However, taciturnos, the Incas followed the current of the river in a canoe of hardwood, very long, carved directly from a log of a centennial tree.
Again they traveled in three, and made a good rhythm when suddenly bambo fell dead next to Wythuya. He was struck by an arrow, on the neck. There were screams and shouts acute, feminine. Other projectiles passed scraping their bodies, hitting the side of the vessel and the travel saddlebags. They were the amazon warriors, the icamiabas. they attacked with animosity. They carried arrows anointed with a deadly pigment on the tip, a plant resin produced and controlled by the clan of those murderous women.
The survivors were captured after also being grazed and injured by some arrows, miraculously, not anointed by deadly poison. Fortunately, his injuries were superficial, but sufficient to render the Andeans unconscious and half-dead. The leader of the flock of females approached the foreigners. They had been mistaken, it was not the white Barbados of the giant canoes, but the people of the white mountains.
The women icamiabas were tall and corpulent, they brought a great bow and ammunition hanged in the back, they dressed little dress and spoke an unknown barbaric language. The captives were immediately taken to the village, in a jungle sanctuary, carried along a stick, bound and gagged like a freshly hunted prey, a donkey or a deer.
When Wythuya regained consciousness, he found himself on a wooden stretcher, under a carnauba and stick to pins. There were some people watching the boy, all women. The few men in the tribe labored as slaves or waited for their own sacrifice, caged in eternal captivity. An elderly woman approached the Andean young man and spoke in the Quechua language, the Inca language.
-It was a mistake. We thought it was other people. We didn't want to kill the Andean boy. I feel the useless loss of a soul, but terrible men came to our lands and kidnapped our people. They are not of this world. They are anchored for five days of journey downriver. They are carrying their monstrous canoes with the things of the earth. It has powerful weapons and the natives call them Perós. They heard about the metals and stones of Paititi, they want to find the golden city.
Wythuya listened to the old woman with gravity. The Amazon's white and smooth hair was angelic. It looked like an Elemental being. He remembered Coca, the clairvoyant grandfather. His injuries were hurting his right flank, but he managed to catch his breath; even with some difficulty, he spoke:
-My name is Wythuya and I represent the Inca nation. I didn't know your people. As for the incident, I understand the reasons for the attack in which bamboo died, my friend. I did not know the icamiabas and the value of their people, they figure as legend among the Andean nations. I bring bad news. These men who came here are land warriors beyond the great ocean, enough to explore and invade. They are as numerous as the Caymans of the great river; and they will return, always and always.
The young man kept saying:
- I see that we were also mistaken about your people and I want to apologize for the invasion of Icamiaba territory. I also ask permission to bury my companion. We won't bother you any more. We'll go on with the journey. I must find the warriors who have kidnapped your people. They are also our enemies.
The old woman, with an undisguised concern in her eyes, authorized the burial of bamboo and the departure of the travelers. They had already taken care of the corpse. They burned him on a wooden altar until his ashes flew with the wind, as they did with all the male warriors escaping swallowing. They would give Whytuya what was left of the ashes in a beautiful pot of clay.
Our hero, stunned by the poison and behavior of those strange women, was to see how Copa, the other coast guard, was passing. But this one was waiting for him, ready to go, a little dizzy and scared of events, just like the master.
They recovered the boat and continued down the river. Now, they were close to the great encounter with the Barbados men. They spent days fishing for fish and turtles as they followed the flow of the current. They couldn't stop thinking about these human beings. White men like the pulp of the cassava, hairy like the skunk, said the amazons. How they could do those things that women warriors said: the guns, the boats, the clothes, the tools. They didn't look like people from this world, they looked like people from another planet. The sight of the caravels and the Spanish galleon really stunned Wythuya and Copa. They were floating forts, a village with dozens of people, soldiers and workers.