13. Heroes and Villains of the Age of Exploration: The Journey of Francisco Pizarro

My Name is Francisco Pizarro: Conquistador of the Inca Empire

I was born around 1475 in Trujillo, Spain, the illegitimate son of a poor soldier. My childhood was hard and unremarkable. I never learned to read or write, but I grew strong from tending pigs and dreaming of something greater. Tales of the New World stirred my imagination, promising fortune to those bold enough to cross the seas.

Journey to the New World

As a young man, I sailed to Hispaniola and later joined expeditions with Vasco Núñez de Balboa. It was on that journey across the Isthmus of Panama that I first glimpsed the vast Pacific Ocean. I saw opportunity in those waters and began to dream of finding kingdoms richer than anything Spain had known.

The Call of Peru

Whispers reached us of a mighty empire to the south, a land filled with gold and powerful kings. Together with Diego de Almagro and Hernando de Luque, I organized expeditions to seek this realm. Our first attempts were met with hardship, hunger, and resistance, but the promise of riches pushed me forward.

The Encounter with the Incas

When we finally reached the empire of the Incas, we found a land divided by civil war between Atahualpa and his brother Huáscar. This division gave me an opening. At Cajamarca, I met Atahualpa, the Inca emperor, with a few hundred men at my side. Through cunning and the element of surprise, we captured him despite his vast army.

The Ransom and Execution

Atahualpa promised me a room filled with gold and two with silver for his freedom. I accepted the ransom, and his people brought treasures beyond imagination. But fear and distrust guided my hand. We executed Atahualpa, ending the life of an emperor and shattering the unity of his people.

The Fall of the Inca Empire

With Atahualpa gone, my men and I pressed forward into the heart of the empire. We entered Cuzco and claimed it in the name of Spain. Though resistance followed, our steel, horses, and firearms gave us power the Incas could not withstand. I became governor of these new lands, though conflict with my old partner Diego de Almagro soon turned to bloodshed.

My Legacy

I lived for wealth, power, and glory, and I achieved them, though not without cruelty. In 1541, I was assassinated in Lima by supporters of Almagro’s son, a violent end to a violent life. Yet my name remains tied forever to the conquest of the Inca Empire, a story of ambition, greed, and the collision of two worlds.

Early Life and Ambitions of Francisco Pizarro – Told by Francisco Pizarro

I was born in Trujillo, Spain, around 1475. My childhood was not filled with comfort or privilege. I was the illegitimate son of a soldier and a woman of little wealth, and I grew up with the weight of poverty on my shoulders. Unlike others who could turn to books and education, I never learned to read or write. Instead, I worked with animals, tending pigs and living a life that gave me strength but little hope for honor or recognition.

Dreams Beyond Trujillo

Though my world was small, I dreamed of something greater. I heard tales of the voyages across the ocean, of lands filled with riches, and of men who returned from the New World with gold in their hands and glory in their names. These stories lit a fire within me. I was not content to remain in obscurity, working fields that gave me nothing but survival. I yearned to carve my place in history.

The Call of the New World

I left Spain and traveled to the Americas, seeking the life I believed was waiting for me. At first, I fought under others, learning the ways of conquest in Hispaniola and Panama. I watched, listened, and prepared, always keeping my ambition alive. I may have been poor and uneducated, but I knew courage, patience, and persistence could raise a man higher than birth alone.

The Drive for Wealth and Glory

Every step I took was guided by that desire for wealth and glory. It was not enough to survive in the New World. I wanted to command, to claim lands in the name of Spain, and to fill my name with honor. The thought of ruling over new kingdoms and returning to Spain as more than a forgotten son of Trujillo pushed me forward. My humble beginnings were my burden, but they were also my strength, for they taught me to fight for more.

My Name is Atahualpa: Last Emperor of the Inca Empire

I was born around 1502, the son of Huayna Capac, one of the greatest rulers of the Inca Empire. From my earliest days, I was taught the traditions of my people, the ways of command, and the responsibilities of an emperor. My childhood was marked by privilege, but also by constant awareness of the vast empire that stretched from the mountains of Ecuador to the valleys of Chile.

The Civil War

When my father died, a terrible sickness spread through our lands, taking the lives of thousands, including many of our nobles. At his death, the empire fell into dispute. My brother Huáscar claimed Cuzco and the sacred throne of the Sapa Inca, while I took command in the north at Quito. Civil war followed, and I fought fiercely. Victory was mine, and I became the undisputed ruler of the Inca, though the cost in blood was heavy.

The Arrival of Strangers

Not long after my triumph, word came of pale-skinned strangers arriving on our coasts. They carried thunderous weapons, rode beasts unlike any we had seen, and spoke in tongues foreign to our ears. At first, I was cautious. I believed they could be tested and perhaps bent to my will. I underestimated them.

The Meeting at Cajamarca

I met Francisco Pizarro at Cajamarca, confident in my strength and the tens of thousands of warriors who surrounded me. I went with dignity, seated in my royal litter. Yet in an instant, their steel and gunpowder struck terror. They slaughtered my attendants and seized me, their small force overwhelming by surprise what my vast army could not defend.

The Ransom

In their prison, I offered Pizarro a bargain. I promised to fill a room with gold and two more with silver, a ransom beyond measure, if he would free me. My people obeyed, carrying treasures from across the empire. Yet even as the rooms filled with wealth, I saw in their eyes that freedom would never come.

My Death

Though I honored my promise, I was condemned. They accused me of idolatry and conspiracy. Some of my captors pressed for mercy, others for death. In the end, they executed me in 1533. My reign ended in chains, and with me, the unity of the Inca Empire was broken.

My Legacy

I was the last true emperor of my people. My name is remembered with sorrow, for my fall marked the end of the greatness of the Inca. Yet I stood with pride, as a ruler who faced betrayal and conquest with the dignity of an emperor. My story is not just of defeat, but of the meeting of two worlds that forever changed the destiny of my people.

The Inca Civil War Between Atahualpa and Huáscar – Told by Atahualpa

The empire of the Inca was at its height under my father, Huayna Capac. He stretched our lands from the mountains of Ecuador to the valleys of Chile. But when he died, taken by a terrible sickness that swept through the empire, he left behind not just sorrow but uncertainty. The question of who would rule after him brought division to our people.

Two Brothers, Two Thrones

My brother Huáscar was given Cuzco, the sacred heart of our empire. I was given Quito, in the north, a land that my father had trusted to my care. To me, this was a sign that I had been chosen for leadership, for Quito was strong and loyal to me. But Huáscar claimed that only he, from Cuzco, could be the true Sapa Inca. Words turned into anger, and anger turned into war.

The Struggle for Power

The empire was split between those loyal to Huáscar and those loyal to me. Noble families chose sides, armies gathered, and blood was spilled across valleys and mountains. Huáscar believed his birthright gave him power, but I believed my strength in battle and the loyalty of my people made me the rightful ruler. The civil war consumed our lands, weakening the bonds that had once united us.

My Victory and Its Cost

I defeated Huáscar’s forces and captured him, claiming victory for myself. The war left many dead and many cities scarred. Though I now stood as the ruler of the Inca, the cost was heavy. My empire was wounded, and my people divided. It was in this moment of weakness, when unity was broken, that the strangers from across the sea arrived. Their timing was not by chance, and they took advantage of the divisions my brother and I had created.

The Spanish Voyage to Peru and the First Encounters – Told by Francisco Pizarro

When I first heard whispers of a rich empire to the south, I knew I had to see it for myself. The stories spoke of gold, silver, and lands filled with wealth beyond imagining. With Diego de Almagro and Hernando de Luque, I set out to find this kingdom. Our first voyages were filled with hardship, storms at sea, hunger, and fear, but we pressed forward. The promise of riches and glory was stronger than the dangers.

Crossing Harsh Lands

The journey into Peru was unlike anything I had faced before. The Andes stood before us, their peaks high and cold, their paths narrow and deadly. Many of my men feared the mountains, believing no one could survive such heights. We faced hunger, sickness, and the constant threat of death. Yet we endured. Each step forward brought us closer to the empire I longed to conquer.

The First Sight of the Inca

When we finally reached the lands of the Inca, we were amazed. Their cities were organized, their roads straight and strong, and their people disciplined. We had expected savages, yet we found a mighty empire, rich and advanced. It was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. But I also saw opportunity, for I noticed their divisions and their uncertainty after years of civil war.

First Encounters with the People

The first meetings were cautious. The Inca watched us with suspicion, and we studied them just as closely. They had never seen men like us, with beards, horses, and weapons of steel. Some welcomed us with gifts, others held back with fear. I spoke through interpreters, never fully certain of what was understood. Yet I could sense the tension, the testing of wills, and I knew this was only the beginning of something far greater.

My Name is Felipillo: Interpreter Between Two Worlds

I was born on the island of Puná, near the coast of what you now call Ecuador. My people were skilled in trade and in war, often at odds with the mighty Incas. From a young age, I learned the languages of the coast and the highlands, for we lived between worlds and dealt with many different peoples. When the Spaniards came, I was taken into their company, valued for my tongue and my knowledge of the land.

Learning from the Spaniards

The Spaniards saw in me a bridge between them and the Andean people. I listened closely, picked up their words, and made myself useful. To them, I was a tool, but to myself, I was more than that. I had a chance to rise above my station, to gain favor and power in ways my own people never imagined.

My Role at Cajamarca

When Pizarro faced Atahualpa at Cajamarca, it was my words that carried their messages. I stood between the mighty emperor and the Spaniards, speaking for both sides. But words are slippery things. I twisted them at times, changing their meaning to serve those I favored—or to harm those I despised. Some say I betrayed Atahualpa, and perhaps I did. Yet in that moment, I thought only of survival and advantage.

The Ransom of Gold and Silver

As Atahualpa filled the rooms with treasures, I watched wealth beyond imagining pile high. I knew that such riches would never remain in the hands of the Inca. The Spaniards grew restless, hungry for more, and I whispered in their ears. My influence was great, for they relied on me to understand their new world.

The Fall of Atahualpa

When Atahualpa’s life hung in the balance, my words again played their part. I translated accusations, sometimes harshly, sometimes falsely. The emperor was condemned, and I had a hand in it. Some called me a traitor, others a survivor. To me, it was the price of siding with those who seemed destined to rule.

My Legacy

History remembers me with suspicion, as one who betrayed his own. Perhaps that judgment is fair. Yet I was caught in a storm far greater than myself, a clash of worlds that no man could escape unharmed. I chose the path I thought would keep me alive and raise me higher. In the end, my name, Felipillo, is remembered not for loyalty, but for the dangerous power of words spoken between empires.

The Capture of Atahualpa at Cajamarca – Told by Felipillo

I stood between two worlds, carrying words from the Spaniards to the Inca and from the Inca to the Spaniards. At Cajamarca, this role placed me at the heart of history. Francisco Pizarro relied on me to explain his intentions, while Atahualpa trusted that I carried his words truthfully. Yet words are dangerous tools, and in my hands, they became weapons.

The Meeting of Two Powers

Atahualpa came to Cajamarca with pride and confidence, carried on his golden litter, surrounded by thousands of his warriors. Pizarro and his men hid nervously in the square, waiting for their chance. When Friar Vicente approached the emperor with the cross and the Bible, I was the voice that carried his message. But I twisted the words, whether by mistake or by choice, and what was offered as faith was heard as insult.

The Spark of Misunderstanding

Atahualpa cast aside the holy book, angering the Spaniards. To them, it was blasphemy. To him, it was an object with no meaning. My translation magnified the offense, making his rejection sound harsher than it was. The air filled with tension, and I could see that violence was coming.

The Moment of Capture

Pizarro gave the signal, and the square erupted. Cannons roared, horses charged, and steel clashed against flesh. The Inca attendants were cut down, their bodies falling as they tried to defend their lord. In the chaos, Atahualpa was seized. He, the emperor of a mighty empire, was now a prisoner in the hands of a few hundred men. My words, my choices, had played a part in making it possible.

The Power of Translation

Some say I betrayed Atahualpa, and perhaps they are right. Others say I was only a tool caught in a storm beyond my control. But I know this: without my tongue, the Spaniards could not have struck so swiftly. Misunderstanding and manipulation carried as much weight that day as any sword. At Cajamarca, it was not just armies that fought, but words that decided the fate of an empire.

The Role of Disease in the Conquest – Told by Atahualpa

Before the Spaniards ever raised their swords or fired their guns, another enemy arrived in our lands. It was unseen, without voice or weapon, yet more deadly than any army. Disease came across the seas with the foreigners, spreading faster than any warrior could march. We had no defenses, no knowledge, no cures.

The Death of My Father

My father, Huayna Capac, the great ruler who had stretched the empire to its widest glory, was struck down by smallpox. His death left our people shaken, for he had been the heart of our strength. Along with him, many nobles and leaders died, leaving gaps in our government and sowing confusion about who should lead after him.

The Weakening of the Empire

Disease did not stop with the royal family. It swept through villages, towns, and cities, killing countless men, women, and children. Our armies, once strong and disciplined, were thinned by sickness. Our workers who tended the fields, built the roads, and filled the storehouses were weakened or gone. Even before the Spaniards entered our lands, the empire was wounded.

The Shadow Over My Reign

When I rose to power, I did so in the shadow of this devastation. The sickness had taken not only lives but also the unity of our people. With so many leaders dead, divisions deepened, and the civil war with my brother Huáscar became inevitable. The Spaniards did not face a strong and united empire; they faced one already scarred by plague.

The True First Conquest

I now see that disease was the first conqueror of the Inca. Long before Pizarro’s steel or horses struck fear into our people, the sickness had broken our strength. The Spaniards came at the perfect moment, when we were weakened not by defeat in battle but by an invisible foe we never understood. It was this silent enemy, not just the Spaniards, that brought the fall of the empire.

My Name is Friar Vicente de Valverde: Dominican Friar and Missionary in Peru

I was born in Spain at the dawn of the 16th century, in a world filled with faith, exploration, and conquest. From an early age, I felt the call of the Church. I entered the Dominican Order, where I devoted myself to study, prayer, and the service of God. Yet I also lived in a time when faith traveled hand in hand with empire, and the New World became the stage for both.

My Journey to the New World

When the opportunity came to travel across the ocean, I accepted, believing I would carry the light of Christianity to lands that had not known it. I joined Francisco Pizarro and his company as their spiritual guide, charged with tending to their souls and extending the faith to the people they would meet. To me, this was both a duty and a divine mission.

The Encounter at Cajamarca

It was I who approached Atahualpa at Cajamarca, carrying the cross and the Bible. I urged him to accept the faith, to acknowledge the Pope as God’s representative, and to submit to the authority of Spain. But Atahualpa rejected my words and cast aside the holy book. To me, this was an insult not only to Spain but to God Himself. I urged Pizarro to act, and soon the square erupted in violence. The emperor was seized, and history turned on that moment.

The Baptism of Atahualpa

When Atahualpa faced death, I offered him one final gift—the waters of baptism. He accepted, perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of hope for mercy. I baptized him in the name of the Church, and thus his soul, I believed, was saved, even as his body perished. To me, it was a moment of triumph, though for others it was a tragedy.

My Role in the Conquest

After Atahualpa’s death, I remained by Pizarro’s side, guiding the men in matters of faith and speaking often of divine justification for Spain’s rule. Some saw me as a holy man, others as a symbol of conquest cloaked in religion. I believed I was bringing salvation, yet I know now that to many I represented destruction.

My Death and Legacy

In 1541, when rebellion struck in Peru, I too met a violent end. My body was torn apart by the fury of native warriors who saw me as an enemy. My legacy remains contested: to some, I was a faithful servant of the Church; to others, a voice that sanctified conquest and cruelty. My life reminds the world that faith and power, when joined, can both uplift and destroy.

The Greed and Rivalries Among the Spaniards – Told by Francisco Pizarro

From the beginning, our conquest of Peru was not only against the Inca but also against each other. I did not march alone. Diego de Almagro, my partner, and Hernando de Luque, our supporter, shared in the risk and the promise of reward. But as soon as gold and land began to flow, jealousy and suspicion crept into our ranks.

The Struggle for Reward

When Atahualpa’s ransom was divided, my men received shares of wealth beyond their dreams. Yet Almagro felt cheated, believing he deserved more for his part. The Spanish Crown granted me governorship over the lands we conquered, but Almagro was given only promises. To him, I had taken the glory and left him with scraps.

Civil War Among Conquistadors

The rivalry grew into open conflict. Almagro claimed Cuzco for himself, arguing that the city fell within his territory. My brothers and I stood against him, unwilling to surrender the heart of the empire. Words turned to steel, and Spaniard fought Spaniard on the very soil we had taken from the Inca. In the end, Almagro was captured and executed, but his son and followers carried on the fight against me.

Ambition as a Curse

We had crossed the ocean together, survived hunger, storms, and battles, yet it was ambition that proved the deadliest of enemies. Land, titles, and gold meant more than loyalty or brotherhood. I saw how quickly men who once shared bread could turn to betrayal when treasure was at stake.

The Lesson of Division

The conquest of Peru is remembered as a triumph of Spain over the Inca, but I know the truth runs deeper. Our greed and rivalries were as dangerous as any native resistance. We conquered a mighty empire, yet we could not conquer our own hunger for power. In the end, it was this division that led to my own downfall, for even conquistadors could not escape the destruction born from their own ambition.

The Role of Christianity and the Requerimiento – Told by Friar Vicente de Valverde

When I joined Francisco Pizarro’s expedition, I did so not only as a man of faith but as a representative of the Church. My task was to bring the message of Christianity to lands that had not heard it and to ensure that the conquest of new peoples was carried out under the authority of God. To me, this was not only an obligation but a holy mission, one that gave purpose to the Spaniards’ actions.

The Words of the Requerimiento

The Requerimiento was a document prepared by the Spanish Crown, declaring Spain’s right to rule these lands. It spoke of the Pope’s authority as God’s representative on earth and demanded that native peoples accept Christianity and submit to Spanish rule. I was tasked with reading this declaration to Atahualpa. Yet the words were foreign to him, and the meaning carried no weight in his heart. Still, in the eyes of Spain, the reading of those words gave legitimacy to the conquest.

Faith as Justification

To us, faith was not only a matter of the soul but also a matter of empire. We believed that by rejecting Christianity, the Inca stood in defiance not just of Spain, but of God Himself. When Atahualpa cast aside the holy book I offered him, the Spaniards saw it as an act of blasphemy. In that moment, faith gave Pizarro and his men the justification to unleash their fury. The conquest, though driven by hunger for gold and power, was cloaked in the language of salvation.

The Power of Religion in Conquest

Christianity became a weapon as sharp as any sword. It provided Spain with the moral shield to claim lands and riches in the name of God. To me, offering baptism to Atahualpa before his execution was the ultimate act of mercy, saving his soul even as his body perished. To others, it was hypocrisy, faith twisted to excuse violence.

My Legacy as a Friar

I believed I was serving God by bringing the faith to new peoples, but I know many remember me as one who used religion to justify cruelty. The Requerimiento, spoken in a tongue foreign to those who heard it, was less an invitation to salvation and more a declaration of conquest. In the story of the Inca, my role reminds us how faith, when tied to empire, can be both salvation and destruction.

Atahualpa’s Imprisonment and the Ransom of Gold and Silver – Told by Atahualpa

After the chaos at Cajamarca, I found myself a prisoner. I, the Sapa Inca, ruler of millions, was bound by men who numbered only in the hundreds. They held me in their quarters, surrounding me with steel and horses, things strange and terrifying to my people. I had commanded vast armies, yet now I sat in chains, powerless before foreigners whose ways I could not fully understand.

The Promise of Freedom

To save myself, I offered what I believed they desired most—gold and silver. I promised to fill one great room with gold and two more with silver, treasures that stretched the imagination even of the Spaniards. My people obeyed my command, stripping temples and palaces, bringing sacred objects and ornaments from across the empire. In my heart, I believed this ransom would secure my release.

The Shock of Wealth

The Spaniards watched in awe as the treasures arrived. Golden statues, silver vessels, and sacred adornments were piled high, melted down, and divided among them. For us, these objects carried spiritual meaning, honoring our gods and ancestors. To them, they were simply wealth to be seized, cut apart, and weighed. I saw the hunger in their eyes, and I realized we did not share the same understanding of value.

The Betrayal

When the ransom was finally gathered, I expected my freedom. Yet Pizarro and his men betrayed me. Despite the promises, they held me still, accusing me of treachery and plotting against them. I had given them more than any man had ever given, yet it was not enough. The weight of gold could not outweigh their fear of me or their desire for complete control.

The End of Hope

I came to see that no treasure could satisfy their greed or earn their trust. To them, I was not a ruler to be respected but a threat to be removed. My imprisonment was not a negotiation but a sentence. The ransom that should have bought my life became the justification for my death, and with it, the betrayal of everything I had believed in.

The Execution of Atahualpa – Told by Francisco Pizarro

When Atahualpa was captured, I held in my hands both a great prize and a great danger. He was the emperor of the Inca, and though he sat in chains, his people still looked to him as their ruler. His very presence inspired loyalty. Even as a prisoner, he was more powerful than I, for his name alone could summon armies. I knew that as long as he lived, my conquest was uncertain.

The Ransom Fulfilled

He promised me a ransom of gold and silver unlike anything the world had ever seen. I agreed, and the treasures came pouring in—statues, ornaments, vessels, all stripped from temples and palaces across the empire. My men were astonished at the wealth, and when it was divided, each received a fortune beyond their imagining. But once the ransom was paid, a new question arose: what should be done with Atahualpa?

The Fear of Rebellion

Many of my men feared that if I released him, he would rally his armies and crush us. Even in chains, he commanded more loyalty than I could command with all my soldiers. Rumors spread that he plotted against us, sending messages to his generals. Whether these rumors were true or not mattered little—the fear among my men was real, and it demanded a solution.

The Trial and Sentence

We accused Atahualpa of treachery, idolatry, and conspiracy. A trial was held, though its outcome was already certain. I allowed the friar, Vicente de Valverde, to offer him baptism, so that his soul might be saved. He accepted, and so his sentence was changed from burning to strangulation. To me, this was a mercy, a final chance for him to meet death as a Christian.

My Justification

I justified his death as necessary for the conquest. If I had freed him, my men would have turned against me, and the empire might have risen in rebellion. By executing him, I removed the symbol of Inca power and cleared the path for Spain’s rule. I told myself it was not betrayal but strategy, a choice made to secure our victory and survival. Yet even as I gave the order, I knew the shadow of that act would follow me forever.

The Fall of Cuzco and the End of Inca Sovereignty – Told by Atahualpa

Cuzco was not just a city; it was the sacred heart of the Inca world. From its temples and palaces, our ancestors ruled an empire that stretched across mountains and valleys, binding millions together under the sun god Inti. It was the center of our faith, our traditions, and our identity. To hold Cuzco was to hold the very soul of the Inca.

The Spaniards Advance

After my death, my people fought bravely, but they were fractured and weary. The Spaniards marched toward Cuzco, and though they were few, they had steel, horses, and weapons that shattered our defenses. The civil war between my brother Huáscar and me had already weakened the empire, leaving scars that the Spaniards exploited. When they entered the sacred city, the guardians of our traditions could not withstand their fury.

The Desecration of the Sacred

In Cuzco, the Spaniards stripped the temples of their gold, tearing ornaments from the walls and melting sacred objects into coins. The Coricancha, our Temple of the Sun, once dazzling with golden panels, was plundered. What we saw as offerings to the gods, they saw as treasure to be carried away. The city that had been the pride of my ancestors was turned into a prize of conquest.

The Collapse of Sovereignty

With the fall of Cuzco, Inca sovereignty was broken. Our lords were humiliated, our nobles displaced, and our traditions mocked. Though resistance continued in the mountains, the unity of the empire was lost. The Spaniards placed puppet rulers on the throne, but they carried no true authority. The line of the Sapa Inca, which had commanded respect and obedience for generations, ended in chains and sorrow.

The Devastation of My People

For my people, the fall was more than the loss of a city. It was the unraveling of a way of life. Families were torn apart, temples desecrated, and lands seized. Disease spread, killing more than war itself. The Inca, once mighty and proud, were reduced to subjects in their own land. Our world, built by centuries of labor and devotion, was undone in the span of a few years.

The Founding of Lima and the New Order – Told by Francisco Pizarro

After the conquest of the Inca, I knew Spain needed more than plundered cities. We needed a capital that could serve as the heart of a new order, a place tied not to Inca power but to Spanish rule. Cuzco was sacred to the Inca, and though we claimed it, its mountains and distance from the sea made it ill-suited for our future. I searched for a place that would be the center of Spain’s empire in Peru.

The Birth of Lima

On the coast, near the Rimac River, I chose the site for a new city. In 1535, I founded it, calling it Ciudad de los Reyes, the City of Kings, though over time it became known simply as Lima. Its location gave access to the ocean for trade and communication with Spain, and its fertile lands promised food and wealth. Unlike Cuzco, Lima was not built on Inca foundations but on Spanish ambition.

The New Order of Society

In Lima, we built churches, plazas, and houses in Spanish style. The laws of Castile governed, not the traditions of the Inca. Nobles of Spain claimed estates, while the native people were forced into labor under the encomienda system. The city became a place where Spanish culture and power ruled openly, a sharp contrast to the remnants of Inca rule that lingered in Cuzco.

The Decline of Cuzco

Cuzco, once the heart of an empire, was reduced to a symbol. Though its temples and palaces remained, its power was gone. Lima grew while Cuzco faded, and the center of life in Peru shifted forever. The old order of the Inca was silenced, and the new order of Spain rose in its place.

The Legacy of Lima

Lima became the jewel of Spanish Peru, a city of trade, governance, and faith. From there, Spain’s influence spread through the Andes and beyond. For me, its founding was a triumph greater than gold, for it gave Spain not only wealth but permanence. The old Inca capital was diminished, and in its shadow, I built a new world—one that would endure for centuries.

The Spanish Struggles with Native Resistance – Told by Felipillo

Though the Spaniards captured Atahualpa and seized Cuzco, the people of the Andes did not surrender quietly. Rebellions broke out in villages and valleys, warriors striking from the shadows, determined to fight for their freedom. The Spaniards won great victories, but they never felt safe, for every mountain trail and every forest path held the threat of ambush.

Shifting Alliances

Many native groups saw opportunity in the fall of the Inca. Old enemies of Atahualpa and Huáscar chose to ally with the Spaniards, believing they could gain favor or power. Others turned against the foreigners when promises were broken or when they saw their lands stripped and their people enslaved. Alliances shifted like the wind, and I often carried the words that sealed or shattered these fragile agreements.

The Siege of Cuzco

The greatest test came when Manco Inca, a puppet ruler at first loyal to the Spaniards, turned against them. He raised an army of tens of thousands and laid siege to Cuzco, trapping the Spaniards inside the very city they had claimed. For months the battle raged, with fires, assaults, and endless fighting. The Spaniards held their ground, but only through desperation and the strength of their weapons.

The Cost of Resistance

Though the native resistance was fierce, it came at a heavy cost. Rebellions were crushed, leaders were hunted down, and villages were burned. The Spaniards punished any who rose against them, and fear spread through the land. Yet the spirit of resistance never fully died. In the mountains and jungles, the people continued to fight, even if victory slipped further from their grasp.

My Place in the Struggle

As interpreter, I stood in the middle of these conflicts. I carried promises, threats, and lies between the Spaniards and the natives. I saw how trust was broken again and again, how both sides used words as weapons as sharp as any blade. The Spaniards may have claimed victory, but the land never truly accepted them, and their struggles with native resistance never ceased.

The Fate of the Inca Royal Line and the Creation of a Mixed Society – Told by Atahualpa and Felipillo

Atahualpa: The Survivors of My Bloodline

Though I was executed by the Spaniards, my family did not vanish with me. My brothers and cousins survived, some fleeing into the mountains, others falling into the hands of the Spaniards. The conquerors understood the power of my bloodline, and they sought to use it. They crowned my brother Manco Inca as a puppet emperor, hoping to calm the people and control them through a familiar face. But Manco grew tired of their chains and led a great rebellion, laying siege to Cuzco before retreating into the mountains to resist.

Atahualpa: The End of Sovereignty

For a time, the Spaniards allowed remnants of the royal line to exist, though never with true power. The Inca rulers of Vilcabamba carried on the fight in the shadows, clinging to independence in the jungle. Yet their reach was small, and their voices weakened with each year. When the last of them was captured and executed, the sovereignty of the Inca was gone forever. Our dynasty, once the rulers of a vast empire, became prisoners of memory, kept alive only in stories and the blood carried in our descendants.

Felipillo: The Shaping of a New People

After conquest, the Spaniards did not live apart from the natives. They took native women as wives, concubines, or servants, and from these unions came children of mixed blood. These mestizos carried two worlds within them—the traditions of the Andes and the culture of Spain. Some were raised to speak Castilian and follow Spanish law, while others clung to the songs, stories, and gods of their mothers. From this mingling, a new society was born, one neither wholly Inca nor wholly Spanish.

Felipillo: Language, Faith, and Custom

I watched as languages blended. Quechua did not disappear; instead, it mixed with Spanish, carrying new meanings and surviving in the mouths of the people. Faith also blended, for while the Spaniards demanded worship of the Christian God, many natives whispered prayers to their old gods beneath the surface of new rituals. Customs changed as well, with Spaniards introducing their laws and traditions, while natives held onto fragments of their past. This society was a fusion, but also a battlefield of memory.

Atahualpa: The Loss of the Old Ways

For many of my people, this new society was not survival but sorrow. The old ways—our festivals, our rulers, our temples—were stripped away or buried beneath the weight of Spanish rule. The pride of the Inca, once united under the sun god, was scattered. Children grew up speaking Spanish, wearing Spanish clothes, and bowing to Spanish officials. The memory of the Inca lived on, but as a shadow of what once had been.

Felipillo: A World Forever Changed

And yet, there was survival within this change. The Inca bloodline did not vanish, but spread among the mestizos. Traditions endured, even if hidden. Songs and stories passed from mothers to children, keeping the spirit of the Andes alive. While some cursed the loss of sovereignty, others embraced the chance to live within two worlds at once. The creation of this mixed society was both loss and rebirth, tragedy and transformation.

Atahualpa: The Legacy of a Broken Empire

The Spaniards destroyed the empire I once ruled, but they could not erase us entirely. My royal line ended in chains, my empire fell to strangers, but the people endured. The mestizos carried forward a new Peru, born of conquest and survival. Yet I cannot forget that what was gained came at the cost of everything we had built. The fate of my family and the creation of this new society stand together as the final legacy of the conquest: a world forever changed, where the Inca lived on only in blood and memory.

The Legacy of Conquest: Faith, Wealth, and Ruin – Told by Friar Vicente de Valverde

When the conquest of the Inca was complete, Spain rejoiced. Gold and silver poured into the empire, filling its treasuries and strengthening its crown. Cities rose where once the Inca temples had stood, and the flag of Spain flew over lands that seemed without end. To many, this was the triumph of a Christian kingdom over pagan rulers, the proof that God’s will favored our cause.

The Spread of the Faith

With conquest came the chance to spread the teachings of Christ. Churches replaced temples, and the cross rose above altars once dedicated to the sun. To me, this was the greatest reward of our mission, for we believed we had saved souls from idolatry and brought them into the light of salvation. Each baptism, each prayer, was seen as a victory not of steel but of the spirit.

The Price of Wealth

Yet the wealth that flooded into Spain was not without cost. The Inca treasures, sacred to their people, were melted down, stripped of meaning, and turned into coins for the empire. This wealth fed greed, sparked rivalries among conquistadors, and fueled wars in Europe. What had been gained through conquest also sowed seeds of corruption and conflict.

The Ruin of a People

For the Inca, the conquest brought ruin. Their empire was broken, their rulers dead or controlled, and their traditions suppressed. Disease, slavery, and endless toil in the mines crushed their people. Where once they had built great cities and roads, now they struggled to survive under a foreign crown. The glory of Spain was built upon their suffering.

Reflections on Faith and Morality

As a man of God, I cannot ignore the weight of these events. Some of us believed we were bringing salvation, that the suffering was justified by the promise of eternal life. Others have questioned whether we cloaked greed and cruelty in the language of faith. The legacy of conquest is one of triumph and ruin, of faith and betrayal. Spain gained riches and souls, but at a cost that history will never forget.