“I think so,” said Socrates. “But do you think King Atahuallpa did?”
“Any king would understand such things.”
“Then he should have killed you the moment you set foot in his land.”
“Unless God meant us to conquer him, and allowed him to understand that. Yes. Yes, that must have been what happened.”
“Perhaps he is in this place too, and we could ask him,” said Socrates.
Pizarro’s eyes brightened. “Mother of God, yes! A good idea! And if he didn’t understand, why, I’ll try to explain it to him. Maybe you’ll help me. You know how to talk, how to move words around and around. What do you say? Would you help me?”
“If we meet him, I would like to talk with him,” Socrates said. “I would indeed like to know if he agrees with you on the subject of the usefulness of his being killed by you.”
Grinning, Pizarro said, “Slippery, you are! But I like you. I like you very much. Come. Let’s go look for Atahuallpa.”