The Temple Dancer (42 page)

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!"