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Authors: John Speed

Tags: #India, #Historical Fiction

The Temple Dancer (33 page)

BOOK: The Temple Dancer
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At that moment, Geraldo appeared at the gate, and with him a tall man
who held back even as Geraldo laughed and pulled his arm. "Look who I
have brought!" Geraldo called.

Lucinda didn't recognize him. A glance at Maya's delighted face made
her look once more. Dear lord, she thought, it's him! Captain Pathan! To
think I'd nearly forgotten him.

"Go out, go out!" Chitra scolded.

But Geraldo ignored her. "Look who's just come from the doctor's. All
better! Good as new!"

Pathan seemed embarrassed by the attention. He saw the little girl staring at him from her stool, and gave her a wink. She covered her mouth to
keep from giggling.

But Lady Chitra hissed between her teeth. "This is a woman's place,
farang. Go elsewhere."

"Nonsense!" Geraldo answered. "Mistress Chitra is happy that we've
come, aren't you, dear? We are General Shahji's guests after all. That gives us
some rights. And Da Gama left me in charge! So I shall do what I want-and
what I want is to be here!" Geraldo laughed. "Well, Captain? Can you even
recognize my cousin?"

Lucinda was pleased to see Pathan peer at her and blink before he answered. "Madam . . ." he gasped.

"Now you must call me Lucy, Captain. We've been through so much,
we must be friends." For a moment she was about to extend her hand, but
then she remembered where she was, and how she was dressed, and instead
held her folded hands to her lowered forehead.

But she looked up at Pathan all the while.

He did the same as he bowed to her. Their eyes locked. Without a turban, his dark hair fell around his shoulders and framed his face. This time
he did not seem so arrogant. Lucinda held his gaze, and wondered how she
must look to him. A brightness like an ember glowing in his dark eyes was
her answer. Lucinda found it difficult to breathe, like a corset tightening,
and she looked away and blushed.

The garden suddenly filled with raucous trumpeting, as two grand peacocks strutted toward the swing, fluffing out their iridescent tails. "Now
you have disturbed my birds," Chitra chided the men. "They are the only
males permitted here! You see the effect you two are having!"

"Yes, we see," Geraldo answered. His mocking eyes glanced at Lucinda
with a dark, wicked gleam.

"I'm surprised you don't have more questions, Captain. You've been kept
in the dark for nearly a week."

The two men ate supper, seated cross-legged on a white serving sheet
placed over the dense, patterned carpet in Geraldo's room. The fare was
simple-rice, dal, vegetables, chapatis, dahi-but fragrant and tasty. Near
Pathan's hand rested a goblet of water, but Geraldo's was filled with a sweet
wine he'd managed to find in the town.

"In the dark, truly, sir," Pathan replied. "My head was in such pain
from my injury that the hakim kept the window shuttered and the doors
shut. And as you know, the hakim allowed me no visitors."

"However did you stand it, Captain? I should have lost my mind."

Pathan's dark eyes blazed. "In truth it was a comfort. I meditated, I
prayed. I recalled the words of the poets and the wisdom of the sheiks."

"Good lord, Captain ... you're not a Sufi? Those men are quite mad!"

"Some may appear mad."

"What, spinning around, and howling at the moon? Do you do that?"

"I know some men who do that. But let's speak of other things. What
has happened in my absence, sir? I was pleased to see that you and the
women appear well. What about Slipper? And more to the point, sir, where
is Deoga?"

Geraldo sat up straight. "I'll first answer your last question. My cousin
Da Gama has gone to Bijapur."

"Alone?"

"He went in the company of Commander Shahji. They should be
reaching Bijapur today, perhaps."

"But Bijapur is only a three-day ride from here.
.."

"Maybe, but Commander Shahji was making a tour of his western
forts. Snap inspections, no warning, just arriving at the gates, him and his
honor guard." Both men shared amused glances. "Shahji and Uncle Da
Gama got along very well."

Pathan asked, "Did Shahji recognize me?"

"I don't think so. Should he have?"

"He was a friend of my father. I met him as a child, but I haven't seen
him since my parents died. Still, one hopes-that is the way of things, to
hope."

Geraldo had nearly forgotten the dark melancholy that hovered around
the burak. "Anyway, before he left, Da Gama put me in charge. `You're in
charge while I'm gone, Aldo,' that's what he told me."

"And what have you done with your authority, sir?"

"I'll tell you what-I got rid of that goddammed eunuch."

Pathan reached for another chapati, keeping his eyes turned away from
the farang. "And why would you do that, sir?"

"I'll tell you why. He was beating the nautch girl. Beating her! I told
him stop and he kept on! So I kicked him out."

Pathan's thoughts flooded with a thousand questions, but he held them
back, and spoke as simply as could. "You found him, you say, beating the
nautch girl. Do you know why?"

"I know what he said. He pretended that Maya had stolen something."

"You call her Maya, now?"

Geraldo's eyebrows puckered. "It's her name! She's very friendly once
you get to know her."

"Is she?" Pathan left Geraldo's comment floating in the air. "Did the
mukhunni say what she had stolen?"

"She had stolen nothing! He's crazy. He's jealous, or delirious, I don't
know." Geraldo frowned and he whispered his next sentences. "He said
that Maya had something that belonged to him. Would he tell what it was?
No! He said he tracked her down for years. He said he'd seen her with it
during the bandit attack." Geraldo shook his head. "Again and again I
asked what it was. `She knows! Ask her!' he kept repeating. I had to stand
between them-he kept swinging at her. He can hurt, too. You wouldn't
think it. He looks soft, but he can hit when he wants to."

"He hides much, sir," Pathan agreed. "What did you do then?"

"I overpowered him. You smile, but it wasn't as easy as you think!
Then I pushed him outside the wall and made them lock the gates." Geraldo took a long drink of wine, and then stroked his mustache. "Now your
smile's gone."

"What did the mukhunni do?" Pathan's eyes betrayed nothing.

"What could he do? He ranted and raved. He can shriek like a cat! He
pounded on the gate for a while. A long time, actually. Then he slunk off
across the lake, and no one has seen him since." Geraldo laughed. "Don't
look so shocked. I heard from the servants that he'd found a ride to Bijapur
in some farmer's cart."

Geraldo took another draught of wine and looked very pleased with
himself. "When I went for help that day-only a week ago!-what good
fortune that I stumbled on Commander Shahji and his honor guard. It was
he who sent you to that doctor or hakim or whatever he's called. He was
very worried about you, though you looked fine to me. Uncle Da Gama
had managed to keep Maya safe; just as you managed to keep Lucy safe.
Slipper. . . ," here Geraldo laughed and took another drink, ". . . Slipper
was a bloody mess. Completely hysterical. He was perfectly all right of
course, not a scratch on him. But he'd managed to shoot Da Gama's horse through the eye and got covered by horse blood. He was sure he would die.
No such luck! Shahji sent him to the doctor along with you. Just to be rid
of him, I think."

"The others?" Pathan's voice was tight.

"They did not live, Captain. Did you know them well?"

"Only the mahout, and his elephant. He used to give me rides when I
was a boy. The horsemen were Wali Khan's men; I had not known them
long."

"Shahji ordered that they all be buried, not burned. He thought they
were Muslims."

"He was right to do this."

"He knows his stuff. Reminds me of Uncle Da Gama in some ways. Old
soldiers, I guess." Again a drink of wine. "But you wanted to know about
this palace. It is a summer home of Shahji, Belgaum palace. That blind
woman lives here permanently. Chitra, her name is. She knew Shahji from
someplace; I think maybe she's his sister. Nobody really runs the place, I
suppose, it's just her and a few servants, and that little girl, Lakshmi."

"That little girl by the swing?"

Geraldo nodded. "She's Chitra's favorite; she runs around everywhere,
whispering to Chitra about everything she sees. They're a pair and no mistake."

For a while, the two men talked about the attack on the pass. Geraldo, having missed the action, wanted to know every detail, but Pathan held back,
not wanting to reveal what might embarrass Lucinda. Even so, Geraldo
pieced the scene together, and looked at Pathan with admiration and gratitude. "I see now why Uncle Da Gama admires you. My family owes you a
great debt."

Pathan tried to change the subject. "Look at you, sir. Dressed like a
Hindi!"

Geraldo laughed. "Yes and Lucy too, as you saw. When the packhorses
ran away, our trunks were broken and their contents spilled all over the
ravine. All Lucy's things, my things. Slipper's too, but I care not a fig. These
I . ama robes are Shahji's-quite fine, I think! And Lucy is wearing saris now-but you saw that. You could barely keep your eyes off her." Geraldo
drank, amused by Pathan's embarrassment.

"The difference is quite striking, sir. And the nautch girl?"

Geraldo chuckled. "She's a wonder. She was the only one who kept her
head. You saw her travelling bag? She never let it go. The only one of us
whose luggage was not lost."

"Ahcha," Pathan said. "So that's what Slipper looked for, I suppose.
Did he not find what he expected?"

Geraldo's eyes were lazy now with wine, and he leaned close to Pathan
and whispered. "Maybe Maya had given it away." He lifted his hand in a
parody of a teacher. "She gave something to Uncle Da Gama before he left
with Shahji."

"Did you ask about it?"

"Of course I did. I saw her give it to him, didn't I? So of course I
asked."

"And ..."

"And she wouldn't say. Not right away. But we've had ... time together. Private time." Geraldo lifted an eyebrow, hoping that Pathan would
understand his unspoken boast. "Just some cheap jewelry worn by dancing
girls. Her guru gave it to her; some such thing. She wanted Da Gama to
keep it safe." Geraldo shook his head. The wine was strong. "That Slipper.
To go on and on so, and then all it was some cheap trinket. There's a lesson
in there, Captain."

"As you say, sir. But I see you are weary. Let me not keep you any
longer." He and Geraldo exchanged a half-dozen pleasantries, and at last
Pathan stepped out into the colonnade and beneath the star-strewn sky.

The night air tingled in his nostrils, fresh and moist with lake fog.
From the garden he heard the peacocks trumpeting hopefully to the hens.
As he walked to his room, he saw a shadow move in the darkness.

It pleased him that his senses were still sharp despite his injury. It was
a woman in a sari and a long shawl, slender and graceful, slipping through
Geraldo's door.

Of course he thought of Maya. But then he remembered-Lucinda
now wore saris, too. Which one was it? he wondered as he closed his door
behind him. Maybe it was someone else, a servant girl perhaps. But his
thoughts were troubled as he fell asleep.

Pathan was proud of his sharp eyes, and yet he had not noticed in the shadows near his own door another woman, slender and graceful in a sari
and a shawl, hugging herself against the coolness of the evening air.

BOOK: The Temple Dancer
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