by John Speed
Shahji pushed Da Gama aside: "I am your second. Leave this to me," he said and ran toward them. A few feet from the eunuch, he called out, "Senhor Slipper!"
Slipper stumbled, as if his rising had caused him to black out. He pitched toward Shahji, who reached out to help him. Whether by mistake or by design, however, Slipper's motion did not stop. He rammed his head into Shahji's. The general crumbled to his knees, clutching his nose. But Slipper rose unhurt. His turban unwound behind him, and he had a smear of Shahji's blood across his pale forehead.
Maya had made it halfway across the harem bridge when Slipper caught up with her. "You have ruined me!" he cried, staggering after her.
The bridge, no longer tied down, bounced beneath the eunuch's strides. Half-drunk, half-dazed from his bashed head, Slipper tottered from rail to rail. The bridge groaned and pitched with his every step. Maya clung to a rail.
Slipper advanced, waving the headdress and screaming. He'd long since stopped saying words.
Geraldo and Wall Khan ran to help Shahji. He waved them toward the bridge. When they reached it, Wall Khan started to run toward Maya. The bridge pitched beneath his feet, and Geraldo pulled him back. "Don't be a fool!" he shouted over the river's roar. "It's too flimsy! The bridge will fail! "
Slipper had reached Maya, and with the fist that held the headdress he struck her veiled face. She fell to her knees, but clung to the railing, though she could not stand. When she looked up, Slipper struck again.
Da Gama and Whisper had now joined the others at the bridge's end. "Brother!" Whisper called to Slipper. "Leave her! All will be well!"
Slipper turned. His face was a horror. It had collapsed beneath his fallen hopes. "All will be well when she is dead!" he shouted.
Maya wrapped her arms around the railing and started to get to her feet when Slipper's fat fingers grasped her neck from behind. She writhed but he would not let go.
"He's killing her!" Da Gama yelled. He grabbed a corner of the bridge and began with all his strength to lift it. The bamboo and wood lashings shrieked from being twisted. "Help me!" Da Gama screamed. For he had seen that Maya held the railing with her arms, and that Slipper had no grip. "We can shake the eunuch off!" The other men looked at each other, and obeying Da Gama's commanding voice, grabbed hold where they could. Together they heaved until, with a creaking groan, they spilled the bridge onto its side.
When the bridge upended, Maya and Slipper both tumbled into the roaring water. Maya's head ducked beneath the surface, but still she clung to the rail. At last her veiled face showed above the foam. She shook her head, and the veil slid slowly off. In an instant it had swept down the falls.
Beneath her weight and the current's force, the bridge twisted and flexed. "We can't help her," Da Gama yelled. "It won't hold! She'll have to come here!"
"Why doesn't she come then?" Wall Khan said. "What's stopping her?"
Then they saw.
Inches from the falls, Slipper's bulky form clung to Maya's ankles. In the water's rush he planed first one way, then the other.
"He'll drag them both in!" Whisper cried. "He will kill them both!"
"Let go, let go!" Maya gasped as water surged across her face.
Hand over hand, Slipper walked up her leg, as one climbs a rope. Against the raging current, she held on for both herself and him. She felt the railing bow beneath her arms.
Water pummeled Slipper's eyes. The current twisted him so hard he spun like a fishing lure on a string. He reached up and grabbed her knee. "For God's sake!" he shrieked. "Give me your hand!"
As the white foam cascaded around her, she remembered. Slipper's insults, Slipper's beatings, Slipper's taunts. Slipper at the pass, tearing at her hurt arm, scrambling over her to safety.
I must be hard as diamonds and as cold, she had told Deoga.
Her sandal had long ago swept down the falls. With her bare toes she pried Slipper's fingers from her leg. He clung yet harder with the others. Through the crashing foam, his face grew wild with horror, and malice, and surprise.
She made up her mind to watch him die.
There was a moment of utter stillness when he at last let go, as though the river stopped. In the silence of that instant, she saw Slipper lift the hand that held the headdress. He mouthed some words-she did not care what.
Then the river surged again, and Slipper, screaming, plunged into the empty air.
Slipper's final slide took but an instant. The falls swallowed him, and he was gone. Looking at the empty space where moments before the eunuch had fought the current, Whisper's face grew pale. "Gone! Gone!" he gasped. He staggered along the bank toward the falls' edge and looked over the cliff, bent with weeping.
Maya still clung to the railing, clearly growing weak. Da Gama leaped into the rapids.
"You farangs are madmen!" Wall Khan shouted to Geraldo. "We should hold the bridge for him at least!" But Geraldo moved more slowly than Wall Khan would have expected.
Da Gama edged along the railing until he reached Maya. It had been hard going, for the current was strong, and the bridge seemed on the verge of collapse. He reached out his hand, but she merely looked at him with eyes exhausted to the point of death. "Don't let go!" Da Gama screamed. He could not bear to lose another life. Not hers.
Maya shook her head. Da Gama inched closer. One of her arms slipped, and her head dipped below the foam. Da Gama begged the gods to help him. As her other arm let go, he swung toward her with his last remaining strength. His knees caught her hips. He managed to wrap his free arm around her breasts. Somehow he struggled until he had cradled her neck in his elbow, and could lift her head above the current. Her eyes rolled back, and her lips were blue.
The bridge railing finally cracked. Still held in Da Gama's embrace, they ducked beneath the water. He dragged her to the surface-her body felt limp and lifeless now. He saw the others staring at him desperately from shore. I'll never get there, Da Gama thought. I don't have the strength.
He looked at Maya. I should tell her that I love her, here as we both die.
But he never had the chance. With an ear-shattering bang, the bridge cracked in two. Da Gama watched the other half of the bridge pitch end on end as it bumped the river rocks. With a final heave, it swept down the falls. Da Gama looked to the shore. The men were struggling to hold on to his half of the broken bridge, straining to keep it from sliding down the falls as well.
Da Gama's part of the bridge began to move with the current. Like a gate on a post, pivoting where the men held it fast, the broken end of the bridge turned slowly for the riverbank.
It's a miracle, Da Gama thought. But he soon wondered if he had spoken too soon. As the bridge drifted toward the shore, the end to which they clung swung closer and closer to the falls' edge. The river's force grew even stronger as they reached the plummet. The end of Maya's sari flapped out over the falls. He held her tight with his remaining strength.
The men holding the bridge could not let go to help Da Gama, for fear that everything would be swept over. Finally it fell to Whisper, slowly coming to his senses, to wade like a bird into the river, and with Da Gama's help to drag Maya to the shore.
Then Whisper came back-Da Gama would never forget that he came back-and held out his bony hand for the farang. With his help Da Gama clambered out of the river, and then he kissed the ground.
Then the men let go, and the bridge groaned and fell in pieces down the falls.
Shahji reached him first. He heaved Da Gama to his feet. "Good job," he said. Then he ran to help Maya.
Wall Khan reached them a moment later. He clapped Da Gama on his back. "Marvelous, marvelous!" he laughed. "That, senhor, is what I call a settlement! "
The camp, which had been moving swiftly toward departure, erupted into chaos. Guards were sent for. The hakim arrived, turned Maya on her belly, and slapped her back a dozen times. After sputtering and coughing up some water, Maya woke. Whisper sent for dry clothing and a veil.
Whisper sent a party of eunuch g
uards to the bottom of the falls, but though they searched the pool and the rapids leading from the falls, the headdress could not be found-nor any sign of Slipper.
After Da Gama had changed into dry clothing he went to thank Whisper. But the Khaswajara was less than gracious. He would not even nod in reply. "Gone ... gone," Whisper had said, looking out at the falls, and turned away and never spoke again to him.
Wall Khan, however, made a point of finding Da Gama. After his servants loaded the seven caskets of gold onto an oxcart, he threw a thick arm around Da Gama's shoulders. "Take heart, farang! There's worse fates than being hated by the Brotherhood," he laughed. "You are quite a burak. I want to hire you! I'll be sending the nautch girl up to Viceroy Murad, and that will take a good man, a man like you, farang." He laughed and clapped Da Gama on the back. "No other will do, in my opinion! But that won't be for a few months, of course. In the meantime I've a few problems you could attend to. You could stay at the Gagan Mahal, in Victorio's old place. That was quite a settlement, farang! Quite a settlement!"
"You could do worse, Deoga," Shahji said to him when Wali Khan had left. He'd had the foresight to send for wine, and encouraged Da Gama to drink to restore his strength.
"What would you do if you were me, General?"
"I'd work for the Moguls. They love their farangs. They'd like a man like you." Shahji chuckled. "And if I were you, I'd find a wife."
Da Gama shook his head. "No woman could stand me, General. I'm getting used to solitude anyway. Why should I disturb things now?" The two men laughed. "All the same, I'll consider your advice about the Moguls. Maybe I'll take Wall Khan's offer-take the nautch girl to the Mogul viceroy. I can scout things out when I get there."
From the Flying Palace word came that the Sultana wanted to be on her way. Slowly the excitement faded back into the routine of readying for a journey. Shahji invited Da Gama to join him for a few days in Belgaum, and he agreed. Then Da Gama walked to Wall Khan and accepted his offer of a job and place to live.
As Da Gama came back slowly across the encampment field, the great elephants once more were harnessed to the hoisting ropes of the Flying Palace. He watched in fascination as they strained and grunted, as their mahouts calmly tapped their ears. Against their dark skin, their silver-studded livery gleamed. Suddenly, with the groan of wooden beams flexing, the palace rose into the air.
There was a flurry of excitement then, as when a great ship departs, and the dock is busy with last-minute comings and goings. Da Gama scarcely noticed when a small, veiled figure approached.
"You saved me once again, Deoga," her soft voice came from underneath her veil.
"I'm so glad you are alive!" He wanted to say more, to embrace her, something.
"I wanted to die, Deoga. But now I too find that I am glad to be alive. My old life is gone, Deoga. But at least you will remember me as I used to be."
Da Gama could find no words to answer. He glanced around, and saw that though they stood within the midst of much activity, no one gave them heed.
"I hoped I would see you," he said. He took Maya's headdress sack from his pocket, and discreetly pressed it toward her. He could hear her gasp beneath the veil. It was heavier than she expected. "Open it in private only," Da Gama whispered. "I had a copy made. That's what was lost."
But people were coming toward them then, and they could say no more. Maya floated away, toward Wall Khan's suite. Da Gama watched as she mounted the silver ladder to Wall Khan's howdah, and remembered a day in Goa. It now seemed long ago.
As he headed on his way to join Shahji, Geraldo caught up with him. Da Gama barely acknowledged him. "Something was up with that headdress." Da Gama kept walking and did not turn. "Slipper was a wrong sort, but he was no fool. I think she did some trick. Or you did. I think maybe both of you! Do you deny it?"
Da Gama stopped and stared up at Geraldo. "Listen," he said. "I'm getting to an age where I don't care what you think, or anyone. Men do things, right or wrong. Good men try to make up for their misdeeds. That's my stage in life, cousin." Geraldo flinched beneath Da Gama's gaze. "You're rich now. You've done some evil-maybe we all have. But you've achieved what you set out to get. You're rich! Why not try your hand at being good?"
"And keep my mouth shut, you mean?"
Da Gama shrugged. From the corner of his eye, he saw Shahji waving for him, motioning for him to depart. "Where are you headed now, Geraldo?"
"To Bijapur. The Khaswajara wants to discuss some plans."
Da Gama shook his head. "Try being good for a change. Around that eunuch it will not be easy."
"And you?"
"To Belgaum for a while, then Bijapur."
"We'll have to spend time together. Bijapur must be a lonely place for farangs."
Da Gama looked at Geraldo with a sad smile, as if expressing sympathy for a malady that Geraldo did not yet know he had. "For some men, every place is lonely." Da Gama made a sweeping bow, and without another word, headed briskly to Shahji's horses.
There were worse things than loneliness.
pilogue
Wali Khan proved a man of uncompromising honor: when he returned to Bijapur with Maya, he sent to Da Gama his full fee and Pathan's as well.
Da Gama took up residence in Victorio's old apartments in the Gagan Mahal and became reacquainted with Mouse. After a time, Mouse overcame his sorrow about Victorio's death, and resumed his genial demeanor.
Da Gama discovered for himself why Victorio was so fond of the eunuch. He was gentle and faithful and always anxious to please. For Da Gama, Mouse's subtle presence brought comfort, and later pleasure. One night when Da Gama could not sleep, Mouse brought out his haratala, and the two cast shot until morning.
Over the next six months while he waited to deliver Maya to Murad, Da Gama undertook a number of settlements for the vizier. While on the road, he wore his old outfit-farang clothes, big leather boots-but when he returned to Bijapur, he put on jamas. He found them more comfortable now, and anyway Mouse preferred them.
Word of Maya's skill and beauty spread quickly through the city, and an invitation to Wall Khan's zenana became a much-sought prize. Hopeful courtiers lavished baksheesh on the grand vizier; the lucky ones were asked to supper at his palace. After servants cleared the food, musicians played, and Maya danced.
Favored guests might meet her alone. Later some of these claimed to have had congress with the nautch girl. If they exaggerated, Maya did not say.
The Sultana had taken a fancy to her. She often visited the harem of the Khas Mahal, the most private palace. Oftentimes the heir would sit at his mother's feet as the women chatted, and when the conversation flagged, he would ask Maya to play ball.
As the time for her departure neared, the heir wrote a letter in his own hand, offering to purchase Maya from the grand vizier-he offered a crore of hun from the privy purse. Considerable discussion followed between the Sultana and Whisper and the grand vizier. In the end, Wall Khan was chosen to explain that Maya was the seal on a promise of peace, and that peace was worth much more than a crore of hun.
The heir hid in his room for days, and when at last he came out, he refused to see Maya anymore.
Geraldo thrived in Bijapur. He quickly established a household, and invited many courtiers to his home. Courtiers, of course, never refuse a free meal, and soon Geraldo gained many friends. He attended the Sultana's audiences and rode through the streets on a silver palki. But even though he lavished gifts on the vizier, he never received an invitation to see Maya dance.
The vizier in this took Da Gama's counsel. He had become friends with the farang, who visited him often. Da Gama made it a point to avoid Geraldo, and Wall Khan observed this.
"What's wrong with your young farang then, I)eoga?" he asked one night while the two men sipped a sharbat.
"Maya does not care for him," was all Da Gama answered, and when pressed would say no more.
About a month before he was scheduled to take Maya to Prince Murad, Da Gama worked a set
tlement in Sarat for a friend of Wali Khan. Unlike many settlements, this one had gone smoothly, and Da Gama was much disappointed. He had brought with him a new man, an Irishman who'd made his way to Hindustan from Persia, and he had hoped to show him how hard the job could be. Now whenever Da Gama described the difficulties of his role-the unexpected ways a settlement could explode into chaos-the Irishmen agreed politely, as one agrees with the old host at a dinner when he spouts some precious nonsense.
"You'll see," Da Gama told him. "It's not just easy money. Bandits no doubt saw us on our way to Sarat, and they will look for our return now our purses are full. They'd rather have the gold than goods. We must be very wary.
"Oh, yes, sir," the Irishman replied.
They slept beneath the stars as Da Gama preferred, in a grove of banyan trees near the Pratapghad road. As their campfire burned to embers, the sky hung so black and close it seemed the stars would drop upon them. Peacocks cried in the forest, and they heard a panther growl. Then silence settled, and the peaceful chirp of crickets returned.
Da Gama just drifted off when he heard a thunk in the ground beside his right ear, and in an instant another thunk beside his left. His eyes flew open to find two arrows jutting from his pillow, inches from his head.
He sat up, cocking his pistola, in time to see two huge cocoons unfold in a nearby tree. From their blanket hiding places, two bandits fell lightly to their feet. In the glow of the dying fire there was just enough light to see that one of them was tall and wiry, the other slight and young. Both carried arrows notched in strong short bows.
Beside Da Gama, the Irishman snored.
The tall one waved his notched arrow at Da Gama's pistola. He uncocked the hammer and lowered it to the ground as they approached.
"Hello, cousin," said the smaller. Da Gama blinked up, uncertain. The slight bandit's hands moved swiftly; the turban fell to the ground, and Da Gama saw the unexpected face of Lucinda beaming at him. He leaped to his feet, embraced her, and kissed her soft cheek before he realized that the other bandit, chuckling beside them, was Pathan.
