The Temple Dancer

by John Speed

  "I merely offered a price! You decided to sell the nautch girl to the eunuchs, not I," Da Gama protested. "Did you think the vizier would do nothing?"

  "You are the settlement man. So settle this! If you sincerely wish to be a partner, then you'll handle this."

  They entered the vizier's residence through a rude-looking side door clearly meant for servants. A sentry told them to leave their swords. He then carefully removed each of Da Gama's pistolas, placing them gently on a table as one might handle a sleeping snake. Da Gama considered protesting but held his tongue. The sentry found fourteen guns, but missed the small one Da Gama strapped to his thigh next to his fonte.

  The lead guard walked swiftly through the dark palace corridors. Da Gama worried that Victorio would collapse with the effort of keeping up.

  At last the narrow corridor opened into a grand room. The walls sparkled in the sunlight that streamed from a pair of high windows, for they were covered in a bright mosaic of colored stones and pieces of mirror. At the far wall of the room, steps led to a platform, like a huge block of mirrored stone, its canopy closed in with red velvet drapes.

  "Come forward," came a deep, tired voice. The guard nodded toward the dais, but hung back to let the farangs approach on their own. When Da Gama glanced back, he had already left the room.

  As they approached, a small black eunuch boy pushed the heavy drapes aside. "Come, come," the voice said. "Closer." Victorio and Da Gama now stood only a few feet from the platform, and because of the angle, they could not see its occupant.

  Victorio made a mighty sweeping bow, seen only by Da Gama and the boy, and rose with a long sigh. Clearing his throat, he began to intone, "0, mighty effulgence of Allah's wisdom. .

  "Shall we dispose of all that nonsense?" the deep voice said. "I had enough flattery in Golconda. And for your information, Senhor Victorio, the Dutch flatter much better than you." For a moment, Da Gama thought that the vizier meant this remark as a good-natured joke. This might not be so bad, he thought. The moment did not last long.

  "What makes you think I'd let you sell my nautch girl to the hijra?" the vizier barked.

  Victorio too glowered at Da Gama, nodding for him to answer, wagging his eyebrows impatiently. Da Gama could not think what to say. Victorio scowled.

  On legs as thick as an elephant's, Wall Khan, the Grand Vizier, inched down the steps, completely naked. He looked as though he had swallowed a giant egg. His dark skin stretched tight across his wide, round torso, and his taut, round belly hung so low it hid his fonte. Sadly, however, his back had no equivalent covering; as he turned to take the final step, his bare, flat ass quivered as he moved. He slapped his small round hands together. "Where's my bath? Fetch my bath!" Instantly the dark eunuch boy dashed through a door.

  Wall Khan frowned after him, and then turned to his guests. "Did you think to toy with me, Victorio? Did you think I wouldn't care? I, the grand vizier of Bijapur? You would steal my goods?"

  "Lord Vizier . . ." Da Gama said softly.

  "I did not speak to you, Deoga, but to this pathetic old fool. What have you to do with this matter, in any case?"

  Da Gama was about to answer when Victorio jumped in. "He's my partner now. You want to know who made the deal with the hijra? It was him. Blame him if you want."

  Wali Khan took a step toward Da Gama, thrusting his belly nearly against the farang's. Da Gama tried to keep his eyes focused on the vizier's face, not on his gray-haired chest, or worse, his belly. "What about this, Deoga?"

  Da Gama stared evenly at Wall Khan, who was a few inches shorter. "I don't see that anything's been stolen. She was never in your possession. A thousand calamities might have caused this same result. You never had the girl; you only had the hope."

  The vizier's eyes gleamed. "I had more than hope. I had a promise. Your promise."

  "While I understand that there's been some talk about offering you the nautch girl, Lord ..." Da Gama said, choosing his words carefully and hating himself more each moment ". . . has anything been put in writing?"

  Wall Khan squinted at Da Gama, and a jackal's smile spread across his face. He was close enough for Da Gama to see the beads of sweat that clung to the hairs of his chest. "Writing, is it? Has it come to that? To writing?"

  Through the door of the great chamber came a short procession of nearly identical eunuch boys: three carrying steaming silver salvers, three with white muslin sheets.

  Wall Khan lifted his arms while the boys circled around his naked torso, but he kept his frown pointed at Da Gama. Those boys with salvers placed them near Wall Khan's feet, and began a strange dance, bending to dip their hands in the steaming water, then reaching up to rub Wali Khan's thick flesh with their bare palms. As soon as they had scrubbed a place, the three boys with sheets reached in to wipe it dry. They stepped back and then the washing boys approached once more. But despite their work, Wall Khan's full attention was only on Da Gama.

  "Which is worse, Deoga? Stealing, or breaking promises? Stolen goods might be recovered ... but how will one recover one's broken word?" Wall Khan looked at him almost sadly. "I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. Why did you not take it?" Da Gama hung his head.

  The boys finished their ablutions, and now scurried to fetch Wall Khan's clothing. While they arrayed him in his jamas and long robe and turban, in his ceremonial girdle and outer skirt of delicate gauze, the vizier never stopped speaking to the farangs. "Do you know what I was doing in Golconda? That city is under siege by the Moguls. I visited Aurangzeb himself, that cunning son of a whore. And with no more than a promise, I secured a peace."

  Wall Khan pushed his face just inches from Da Gama. "With just my word, Deoga! No money. No guns. Only my promise! That is the value of a promise. That is what you lost." Da Gama nodded, feeling shamed.

  "Promises, Deoga! I promised to send that nautch girl to the Mogul prince Murad. He has a fondness for nautch girls-he likes to watch them. He can't do much else. Aurangzeb suggested it-a sop for his dullard brother-and I agreed. I gave my word! She's far, far more than a nautch girl now, Deoga! Now she's the seal on a peace treaty!"

  Wall Khan's eyes were bright, and though he was not yet shouting, his voice echoed from the jeweled walls. "And I come back to find that you've sold her? To the Brotherhood? Shall I now tell Aurangzeb that nothing was in writing?"

  The eunuch boys who had been dressing him scattered and now pressed against the walls in fearful silence. Finally outfitted in his regal robes of turquoise silk, and his enormous gold-shot turban, Wall Khan seemed no longer silly and fat, but vast and powerful, a truly grand vizier with endless resources available, should he but clap his dimpled hands. "I assume you now mean to keep your word," he said, so softly that Da Gama now had almost to strain to hear. "I assume ... that you have reconsidered."

  "He has not!" Victorio burst out. Both men looked up in surprise. The old man began to laugh. "Look at him, Da Gama. You've got him scared stiff!" Victorio lumbered toward the vizier, still chuckling and shaking his head. "What were you doing, Wall Khan ... selling what you don't own? Did the Sultana know of this treaty? Did she?" He fixed the vizier with a bright, sneering eye. "And what else did you promise Aurangzeb, eh?"

  Victorio shook his head at Da Gama. "He's pathetic, my boy. Pitiful." He turned again to the vizier. "What will Whisper say to all your plans?"

  Da Gama was surprised by Wall Khan's reaction. He bent his head, and his shoulders drooped as if from a thousand, thousand doubts. "I will make it work. I will think of something," the vizier whispered, and turned aside from the farangs.

  "Wall Khan," Victorio said gently. "Send the baby spies away, and let us talk." Da Gama realized Victorio meant the eunuch boys. Wall Khan seemed too weak to do more than flutter his fingers, but the boys saw the small gesture and jostled for the door.

  When the echoing thud of the heavy wood door had faded from the glittering walls, Victorio motioned to a carpet and bolsters, as though he were now the host. "Wall Khan, Wall Khan," he
said as the men sat, placing a heavy hand on the vizier's thick shoulder. "Did you think your best friends would abandon you?"

  "I need the girl, Victorio. I'll have the girl, by the Beard."

  "Of course you will! Of course! Do you think we have no honor?"

  Wali Khan stared at Victorio. "But I heard ... and then Deoga said ...'

  Victorio laughed politely. "He didn't know any better. I kept him in the dark. I alone knew the truth, Wall Khan. If Da Gama knew my true plans, how could he have convinced the hijra? We merely toy with them, for our own advantage. I would never betray you ... you are our friendour best hope." He lowered his voice. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

  "No, of course not. The Dutch are out-the trade monopolies are yours, Victorio! ... If I become regent."

  "Surely you mean when you become regent, old friend."

  Da Gama saw that sweat had formed on Wall Khan's round face, though it was still morning cool. The vizier looked at Victorio with shameless gratitude and then grasped the old man's hand. "Senhor, I lost my head..."

  "Wall Khan, in these times rumors fly everywhere. The girl is yours, old friend. We will settle with the hijra. Believe nothing you may hear! Now we must go..."

  "Yes, yes. Go now. Bring the girl, as quickly as you can." Wall Khan stood and lifted his hands in salute, then waved to Da Gama. "I have a message for you, from some friends of mine."

  Da Gama's eyebrows raised. The morning had been so full of strangeness he scarcely knew now what to say.

  Wall Khan pulled Da Gama's shoulder to speak into his ear. "My friends are from the Three-Dot clan. It can be helpful to have such friends, Deoga. They send a message to you. They too were betrayed, as you were betrayed. They told me of the trouble at Sansagar pass. Those messengers you met with were killed by a rival gang, the Nagas. It was the Nagas who attacked you." Wall Khan pulled Da Gama toward a small box near his sleeping platform, and took out a small purse, and spread some of its contents in his thick round palm: a pile of golden rials. "Here, they return the baksheesh you gave them." Da Gama took the purse with a bow of his head.

  Wall Khan raised his hands. "Don't let my anger disturb you, Deoga. That old man is a viper, and not the dullard that he pretends to be. He plays us all for fools." Standing a little way off, Victorio stared into space. "We must hang together until the regency is decided. I'm glad Victorio has made you his partner. You are known to be a practical man. I see great things for you.

  "But what will become of her ... the nautch girl?"

  Wall Khan looked at him as if he could not understand the question. "Go, Deoga. And don't worry about that hijra, Slipper. My friends"-Wali Khan looked significantly to be sure that Da Gama understood that he meant the Three-Dot clan-"will be nearby throughout your journey. They do this at my request, but it is their pleasure.... They feel an obligation to you after the troubles you endured. If you need help, just give some signal."

  "You're sending bandits to protect us? You expect me to ask bandits for help?"

  Beneath his enormous turban, Wall Khan's dark brow knitted. "Are you unhappy with my arrangements, Deoga? That's rather harsh. Anyway, if you don't signal, you'll never know they're there."

  "What sort of signal?" Da Gama blurted out, struggling to keep his voice low.

  "How should I know?" The question clearly annoyed the vizier. "Wave a lamp three times. There." Wall Khan turned his head to fix Da Gama with an angry eye. "I took some trouble on your behalf, Deoga, and I expect your appreciation. Shall I tell all this to him, instead?"

  Tell Victorio? "No," Da Gama said. He bowed and joined Victorio. Do you want me to tell this to him? It was how a child might threaten another.

  What sort of men am I dealing with? Da Gama thought, not for the first time, nor the last.

  "That went well," Victorio said at the sentry's table as they strapped on their swords.

  "You think so?" Da Gama answered. He examined each pistola carefully before pushing it beneath his wide belt.

  "My dear fellow, yes!" Victorio seemed to be feeling expansive. Da Gama wondered whether Mouse had cooked up some new concoction for the old man, for his face was flushed and his eyes bright. "Look at our situation. On his own the vizier discovered about the eunuchs. He must know what they've offered us."

  "What difference does that make? You just told him ..."

  Victorio sneered. "Don't pretend to be naive. I lied to him, of course. Don't tell me you believed me, too? It was a brilliant move on my part. Now he's forced to match any price the eunuchs name, isn't he? What choice does he have, eh? Before the girl was nothing-a bit of baksheesh. Now she's Wali Khan's ticket to the regency. Best of all, he's already promised her to Aurangzeb. Can you imagine what old Prince Tiger Claws would do if Wall Khan reneged? What won't Wall Khan pay to keep his promise? And as for the eunuchs"-Victorio sighed and spread his hands-"they think ... well, they want her, too. I shall watch the bidding with amusement." Victorio clapped Da Gama on the shoulder as they passed through the side entrance and began walking back to the Gagan Mahal. "It's a game, my boy; it's all a game! You must not frown so! Get into the spirit of the thing or you'll go mad! We play one side against the other until someone blinks."

  Or until someone cuts our throats, Da Gama thought. "What about the girl?"

  "The nautch girl? What about her? It is my welfare that concerns you, not hers. Besides, you have other problems."

  "Like what?"

  "Like that burak. He's not going to like these arrangements, is he?"

  "Pathan? I expect that he may have an opinion," Da Gama acknowledged, realizing that Vittorio seemed surprisingly circumspect today.

  "And that hijra Slipper. Best to keep him in the dark as well. Those two are dangerous. They have their ways ... even if you say nothing, they'll get information. You must misdirect, persuade, confuse. If you wish to be a partner, you must use your brain now, not just your pistolas. That open face of yours is a real liability." Again Victorio laughed. "By the Virgin, I adore the game! It makes me feel ten years younger, squeezing those bastards! If we keep this up, I'll have an heir in no time. By the Virgin, I could rut like a fox!"

  With a sudden burst of energy, Victorio strode off, leaving Da Gama to make his worried way alone.

  Soon they were off. Slipper had arrived while they were gone, and had rearranged things to his liking, and was full of questions. Da Gama let Victorio do the talking.

  The caravan was small-two palkis, one for Slipper, one for Victorio. Bullock carts piled high with rolled-up formal tents, tent poles, ropes, and cooking gear. Another bullock cart for camp servants. On horses, Da Gama and a half-dozen guards handpicked by Commander Shahji. They would get more palkis when they got to Belgaum.

  What would Shahji say if he knew that Wall Khan was in league with the Three-Dot clan, the most notorious bandits in the Southern Deccan? Da Gama wondered.

  "Where am I to travel, Deoga?" Mouse asked, staggering beneath the weight of his pack. He still had the grateful look Da Gama had seen the night before.

  "Who asked you to come?" came Victorio's voice from behind the curtain of his palki.

  Mouse looked up, shocked. "Master. . ."

  "You're to stay here. I don't need you, Mouse." The eunuch looked as though he'd been stabbed. "I'm going to fetch my bride, aren't I? I can't very well bring you along, can I? Wait at the factor. I'll introduce you to her when the time is right." With that, Victorio's scaly hand swung the curtain of his palki shut. He never saw Mouse's shattered look, or how he crept away like a broken puppet. But Da Gama did, and cursed Victorio beneath his breath.

  All at last was ready, but once again Slipper was nowhere to be found. Finally he appeared, smoothing his robe, from a nearby latrine. "It's so uncomfortable to stop out there in the wilderness, don't you think, Deoga?" he said with an intimate smile as he walked past to his palki.

  Slipper refused the palkiwallah's assistance. "Deoga shall help me," he said, loud enough for all to hear. Da Gama shook his
head in disbelief, but Slipper simply stood waiting.

  At last, with a frustrated grunt, Da Gama got down from his horse. Only when he had offered Slipper his hand would the eunuch step into his palki. "You are very kind, Deoga," the eunuch said. Then the eunuch leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Mouse told me about the haratala. You nasty man. Do you have an itch you cannot scratch? My dear fellow, you should have told me! I have many poultices. Haratala and lots of others. We can share them anytime you wish." Slipper's breath tickled Da Gama's ear.

  Da Gama fixed the eunuch with a cold stare. "It's not what you think," he grunted. But Slipper's raised eyebrows and knowing smile were what the company around him saw, and they drew their own conclusions. Da Gama strode back to his horse with his ears burning.

  "Let's get the hell to Belgaum," he shouted.

  The caravan began to move.

  Part Six

  Regret

  "You alone," Lady Chitra said to Pathan, "appear to have kept your reason.

  Even if Chitra could see him, Pathan would have kept his face just as blank, his head as motionless. He sat for the first time in Chitra's vast rooms, where the fragrance of a thousand roses filled the air, tugged to that place by Lakshmi's tiny hand. The little girl peeked at the burak from behind Lady Chitra's shoulder, and for a moment Pathan considered winking at her, just to see her reaction. But the moment was somber, and his mood also, so instead he merely mumbled something to let Chitra know that he had heard.

  "Although you are a Muslim, you have acted civilly in my palace. I have decided therefore to place some trust in you." Chitra's pebble eyes glided beneath her half-closed lids. "I want you gone from here, all of you, before those monsters come."

  Pathan could not hide his surprise, though only Lakshmi saw it. "I don't understand, madam."

  Chitra sighed, but her back, straight as a ramrod, did not move. "You do understand, sir. Only you pretend not to. Many men employ this strategy." Lakshmi whispered into Chitra's ear. "She tells me you're offended."