Before I post this, I'll point out that this is the divergence, from where all the other deviations stem...mostly. In reality the Inca Emperor was taken and eventually all Peru fell to the Spanish. But it wouldn't be fun if I just followed history!
Boris: You shall soon find out!
Aliasing: Exactly!
blsteen: Yes, the Spanish took a long time to conquer Peru since they had less help from the natives than in Mexico against the Aztecs.
Basileus44: She would survive. Her bones are unbreakable, more or less, but she wouldn't be conscious. She'd be sort of...comatose until the stone was removed. As for is it possible? Well, I had to REALLY try to lose this. I managed to conquer all the Inca lands with just 6000 troops. With 1000 you have to try not to win, your land tech is so good, and your morale so high.
Dewirix: You're right, she doesn't like unfair fights. As you'll see it becomes a bit more fair....
Sather: Well, we'll find out in this game.
Chicken: Yeah, she doesn't take BS from anyone. She's been around so long after all.
morningSIDEr: Thanks!
Chapter 8 – Breaking Point
16/11/1532
Cajamarca.
That was where they were. Talena had learned the name from the local guides they had to translate. Talena hadn’t told them that she could speak the language of the Inca – that’d be a little too suspicious.
And now here they were. The central plaza was filled with the Incan Emperor’s retainers and followers. Beyond the town were thousands more. The Spanish soldiers were afraid, that much was clear. Yet they looked to their leader, and Pizarro was nothing but calm. As he walked down the column of the tiny army he constantly gave encouragement and reassurance to his soldiers.
Now the Spanish were concealed in the city, hiding in the buildings as the Inca had entered. There was the Emperor carried on a palanquin by bearers, and with his servants and guards about them.
The priest accompanying the army had gone forward. Talena had learned that his name was Vincente de Valverde, a rather grim and humourless man, she thought.
All the pieces were in play, and now the trap was to be sprung.
If Talena was honest with herself she felt rather bad to be part of such an uneven fight. However…she was here now, and there was no way back. She couldn’t question it.
Vincente went forward to greet the Incan Emperor with just a translator. Talena followed the conversation as it was spoken, though the distance made it hard.
The Inca were ordered to submit to the authority of the King of Spain and to convert. Talena was not surprised that they refused. When offered a bible the Emperor tossed it aside, angered by the demands of vassalage.
That was the signal for the Spanish to unleash hell.
From a carefully chosen position the four small cannons opened a terrible crossfire into the packed square. Each of the cannonballs despite being small were at such close range that they tore through a dozen Inca each, spraying blood. Now the Spanish arquebuses blazed, and the cavalry rode from cover, charging into the chaos. Finally the infantry, Pizarro at their head charged right at the Emperor.
Talena could see the plan at once. If they seized the Emperor they could hold him to ransom and overcome the endless legions of the Inca. Spanish steel cleaved through unarmoured warriors, while the ceremonial weapons the Inca carried were no match against the tempered steel armour of the conquistadors.
The Inca, assailed by weapons they could never have imagined, panicked, and only those around the Emperor held their ground. It seemed certain that they would fall and the Incan Empire would fall this day.
Talena was in the square when it happened. Feeling it unfair to fight unarmoured enemies she had used the flat of her blade, and a break had given her the chance to look up.
Pizarro jumped from his horse, and as the Emperor’s bearers were cut down he reached to grab him. A second longer and the conquistador’s incredible audacity would be rewarded. A second longer and Peru was Spanish.
But one man, an Incan rose and stabbed. By luck or design his long bladed obsidian knife pierced under Pizarro’s arm, where there was no armour, and drove in deeply.
Pizarro faltered, choked, and fell to his knees. Talena stood in shock. His attacker was an Incan…a warrior with a red costume and a strange…familiar symbol on his back. It was the man who she had spared in the mountain ambush. She…she had spared him and now he was here!
“Vengeance!” the Spanish cried, and before any order could be imposed one of the conquistadors had hacked the Incan Emperor down, killing him instantly and dropping his body to the ground beside Pizarro.
The effect was instant. The Inca warriors and attendants watching let out a great wail. Such a sound Talena had never heard before as they saw their leader fall dead. She expected them to run…but they didn’t…just the opposite. With no bargaining chip to hold the Inca back, and no Pizarro to lead the Spanish the initiative shifted.
Though they were armed with only meagre weapons, and were unarmoured the Inca suddenly attacked. Though frightened by the horses and guns they rushed forward to avenge their leader, and in this they were lead by an Incan warrior dressed in even brighter colours than his men.
And now the problems became clear for the Spanish. Their guns were lethal, but they were slow to load, and most of them were unsighted by the smoke or their own men. The cavalry was devastating, but once they became bogged down they could be attacked and swarmed!
Talena now found herself having to defend herself against a crazed wave of attackers. She had only seen such a thing only once; as a soldier far in the future she had witnessed the terrible massacre of civilians during a food riot. The people, mad with hunger and fury had charged automatic weapons, and were cut down, but kept on coming, and in the end they had broken the line and killed every soldier, though they had lost ten people for every enemy they killed.
The Spanish recoiled as more and more Inca appeared from the army outside. Horses were stabbed in the face or legs, the riders pulled off and beaten to death with wooden maces. By the bodies of the two leaders the Spanish formed a ring around Pizarro’s body, but one by one they were brought down, though they created a pile of dead around them.
Talena looked around, and there was Rodrigo, shocked. He had been commanding the gunners and crossbowmen, but now looked on appalled.
“Rodrigo, get your men! To their rescue!” she shouted.
For a moment Rodrigo hesitated, but then drew his sword. “Forward! Rescue the Captain-General!”
Some of the anger had faded for the Inca, and they backed off as the small group charged from the rear. Men grabbed Pizarro’s body as they retreated. The Greek captain of the artillery fired one last blast from his cannons and fell back. He only got a few paces though before a sling stone struck the back of his unarmoured head and he fell to the ground.
“Keep going! Fall back!” Rodrigo called.
Talena stood beside him, and the Inca did not pursue. Hundreds of their warriors and attendants littered the square, but they had taken a fearful toll on the Spanish. The Spanish…had lost.