Outside the ground is white with frost. It is bitterly cold, and we cram on every available layer of clothing. A deep breath, then on with the rucksack. Hieronymo, the jolly horse-handler, has four helpers to carry the heavy gear, the tripod and boxes, though we have cut the shooting kit down to the minimum. I take the rucksack for my cameras, and soon regret it.
Any extra weight becomes a struggle.
Hernando de Soto rode right up, spurring his horse so close to Atahuallpa's face that its breath tousled the crimson tassels on the Inca's royal headband. Atahuallpa, however, was unmoved and unblinking, and ordered those who had panicked to be killed. Such lack of courage was demeaning in the staff of a great king. Atahuallpa knew how to be a king. Prologue 'The Lord of the Snow Star' 1.