The Temple Dancer (57 page)

"Maybe I will kill you first!" Pathan whispered.

Before Pathan could even move, however, Lucinda scrambled from her
stirrups, and leapt off the saddle with a shout. Her hands still bound, she
could not guide her fall through the dark air, but even so she pitched
against Geraldo and knocked him to the ground.

Geraldo recovered quickly, and lifted the pistola to Lucinda's forehead.
Her mouth gaped and her eyes searched for Pathan.

As Pathan rushed from behind the horse, Geraldo pulled the trigger.

The hammer clicked, but instead of a shot, only a long green flame
burst from the barrel, sizzling Lucinda's wet hair. Smoke belched from the
strike plate, and Geraldo began to cough so hard he dropped his weapon.
The pistol spun across the stone floor, into the curtain of water.

He turned to find Pathan racing toward him with his bright sword
swinging.

"No!" Lucinda cried, struggling to sit up. "No more death!"

The arc of Pathan's sword did not falter, but instead of slicing through
Geraldo's neck, he slammed the jeweled knob of his sword hilt against
Geraldo's temple. Geraldo staggered, nearing the curtain of the falls. Blood
pulsed over his fingers where they held his temple. At last he crumbled to
his knees, then spasmed and collapsed on the stone floor.

"Is he dead?" Lucinda asked as Pathan stepped closer to him, sword
point ready.

Pathan stood over him, sword raised. "Not dead," he said at last, lowering the blade. Then he knelt at her side, and began to cut through Lucinda's bindings. His sword blade sliced the leather thongs. Pathan rubbed
her chafed wrists with his thumbs.

Lucy turned to him, eyes brimming with tears. "No, Munna, you must
get away. They will kill you! Go while you can!"

Pathan lifted his head. "Then we will die together."

Again Lucinda leaped, again she knocked another to ground. This time
it was Pathan who fell beneath her. But first Lucinda threw her arms
around his neck, and as they fell, he pulled her close. On the stone floor of
the inner chamber, she covered his wet face with kisses.

"If you love me, you will leave me and live, dear Munna," she whispered in his ear.

"Because I love you, I will stay beside you." Pathan sat up, and looked
hard at her. "But we need not die. There is a way, though it is a hard life that
I offer. They will pursue you because they want your fortune, and they'll
pursue me to gain my family's estate. The Sultana may give up, but the
Brotherhood will come after us, and they have people everywhere, and
they never tire. Never can we rest, nor ever feel safe. A bandit's life lies before us. But you'll be alive, dear Lucy, and I'll be by your side. Will you go
with me?"

Lucy's fervent kiss was her answer.

"We must hurry, Lucy."

"But how can we get out?" She nodded to the entrances to the chamber.
"On that side are the Sultana's guards. On the other are Slipper's guards.
Both will stop us." They could just make out shadows moving through the
narrow veils of water at the chamber's sides.

He smiled, that rare smile that broke her heart with its clear beauty.
Then he lifted her onto the mare, and swung up behind her. Then Pathan
backed the mare to the very rear of the chamber, and faced the brilliant torrent of the main waterfall. Here the stone of the chamber's rear walls amplified the roar, and the sheet of water gleamed white ahead of them. "Hold
on very tight." He spurred the mare. She reared up, and dashed forward
through the white deluge.

With the eunuch captain of the Sultana's guards, Slipper discussed the
bowmen on the other shore. He then came back fuming to Da Gama. "He
says to take no notice. They aren't hurting anyone, he says. If he had seen
what we have seen, he wouldn't be so calm!" All this he shouted over the
roar of falling water.

Da Gama forced a chuckle. "You now talk like a settlement man. Anything unusual is cause for worry."

"Exactly! For example, what is taking Geraldo so long?" fussed Slipper.

"He's got the horse to think of, senhor. It can't be easygoing."

Slipper twisted his lip, glancing first to the exit from the falls, then to
the other shore at the horseman. "I don't like it. Something's wrong. I'm
sending someone in." Again he hurried to the captain, but was no more
successful than before. "He says he doesn't want his men to get wet! Can
you believe it!"

Da Gama, however, had noticed a streak of red swirling in the white
water that flowed from the exit. He struggled to keep his face impassive,
but then a pistol rattled to the nearby stones beneath the cascading water.
He stepped between Slipper and the sight, hoping that the eunuch's bad
eyes had not seen. What was happening inside that chamber?

Then Maya screamed.

A horse burst through the falls, crashing through the curtain of water.
Swirls of droplets exploded in the bright sun, making trails of light. The
horse's legs churned the mists as it vaulted into emptiness. On its back, two
riders held tight as the beast soared and splashed into the pool below. Then
they sank beneath the surface of the water.

"It is Pathan!" Maya shouted despite herself.

The eunuch guards crowded to the edge of the pathway of the falls.
"He's drowned!" one of the guards yelled.

"Where is Geraldo!" Slipper screamed. "Where is the poisoner?" He
neared the falling curtain of water, but could not steel himself to pass.

"They've come up!" shouted one of the guards. In a swirl of bubbles, the mare's head emerged, and behind it her two riders. "One's a
woman! "

"It's her!" Slipper screamed. "Shoot them, shoot them!"

"We have no bows," the captain shouted back.

"You have spears, don't you?" Slipper's face was bright red, and his
tiny eyes nearly burst from his head. "Use them!"

But at that moment, an arrow zipped past his face and clattered on the
rock wall beside him. The bandits on the other shore had begun to fire.
They were fast: a rain of arrows struck the rocks. One pierced the arm of a
eunuch guard, who gave a wailing scream. He pulled at it desperately, yelping with each tug.

A dozen more arrows slapped against the stones. "Behind the falls!"
the captain ordered. "Hurry! Take cover!"

The guards pushed against each other, some nearly tumbling down the
rocks. One shoved Maya through the water into the chamber. Another
grabbed Da Gama's bound arm.

He shook out of the guard's light grip and stared across the pool, despite the arrows that clattered all around. The mare stumbled up the other
shore, Pathan and Lucy clinging to her back. Da Gama watched the mare
stagger up the ancient temple ghats to the ground beside the bandits.

The guard tugged Da Gama's arm once more. He had only time to see
the mare rear up as Pathan waved his bright sword, as they charged into the
jungle.

The guard dragged Da Gama into the waterfall chamber. Everyone was
soaked. Slipper knelt near Geraldo, who was shaking his head as if to clear
it. When he saw Da Gama enter, Geraldo struggled to his feet. "You!" he
shouted. "You planned this!"

Da Gama did not answer.

Geraldo wheeled suddenly and hurled his fist into Da Gama's
head. Though Da Gama ducked, he still caught much of the blow. His
bound hands threw off his balance: he fell to his knees and tumbled for ward. The tip of Geraldo's boot caught his chin, and light exploded in his
eyes.

As he lost consciousness, he vaguely felt his body lifting from the floor
with the force of Geraldo's kicks.

"Hey, Deoga. Time to get up. Get up, lazybones."

Da Gama blinked awake. Every inch of his body ached. In a moment
his eyes adjusted to the dim light of a grand tent, and he recognized the face
of Commander Shahji. "General!" he said. Or tried to. His mouth was
caked with dryness and his teeth ached.

"Yes, that Geraldo fellow gave you a few good ones. The hakim's been
in ... you've nothing broken, and you'll live, though the way you'll hurt
for the next few days, you might wish that you were dead."

"Where am I?"

"You're a guest in my tent, at the Sultana's camp at Gokak Falls."
Slowly Da Gama's senses came awake. He could smell the musty tang of
damp wool-tent walls, and hear outside the rumble of the river as it tumbled down the falls. "I volunteered to glue you back together. Slipper and
the guards brought you here, you and the nautch girl. And Geraldo.
They've set him with the hijra guards." Shahji chuckled as he said this.
"That should teach him to behave, eh? Anyway, you're to stay away from
him ... otherwise, you're free."

That reminded Da Gama-he lifted his hands. They were unbound.

"So, Deoga, how do you feel?" Shahji said with real concern.

"Like hell."

"Too bad. You've got business-serious business, I think. Right now
the Sultana is in audience, about to hear matters that affect you."

"An audience? Here ... in the middle of nowhere?"

Shahji shook his head. "You really are a child, sometimes. Do you
think the scheming would halt, just because the queen has left her palace?
Everyone of any consequence has come along. In the Flying Palace, at this
moment, the audience proceeds, and the Sultana wants you to attend."

Da Gama blinked, and chanced sitting up. His body screamed in protest and his vision went black, but then things settled down. "Where are
my clothes?" His voice sounded terrible.

"So filthy that I had them buried." Shahji laughed. "You must make do
with some of mine." He gave a single clap, and a grave old servant brought
in a stack of carefully folded jamas. "You have worn this stuff before?"

"On occasion," Da Gama answered. "It makes me look a fool."

"At least you won't be a hypocrite. Hurry dressing." As Shahji was
about to pass through the curtained entryway, he turned. "I put your belongings on that table, by that pitcher of wine. A cup or two couldn't hurt."

Before he dressed, a servant produced a razor and basin, and gave Da
Gama a painful shave, then oiled, rubbed, and combed his hair. In truth,
though he felt a fool in Shahji's clothes, the fit was good and the style flattering.

With Shahji walking beside him, Da Gama headed for the audience.
Shahji's grand tent was one of about a dozen in a wide ring around the Flying Palace, which dominated in the center. Da Gama saw that a wide area
had been set with ring after ring of tents; the grandest like Shahji's in the
ring closest to the Flying Palace, then smaller and smaller tents until one
came to simple peasant tents in the outer rings. Shahji pointed to a far-off
stable tent where the elephants and horses all were quartered.

Before they went to the palace, however, Shahji took Da Gama's arm,
and drew him a few yards away. "Look here, Deoga," he said. "That's the
river Ghataprabha there. See that bridge? The Sultana always brings it
when she camps here. They set it up right there, just a few yards from the
falls. It's too fragile to carry any kind of load-so they bring the tents
across a mile upstream. You stand on that delicate bridge, looking down
into the rushing water, and in a moment you're convinced you'll tumble
over. It's quite unnerving. The queen stands there each day at noon."

The bridge was a narrow wooden path stretched across an arching
skeleton of wood. Despite its handrails, it struck Da Gama as a doubtful
structure. "Most amusing," Da Gama said to be polite.

Shahji glared at him. "I don't show this for amusement. These things
should indicate to you the character of the persons you are dealing with.
They are bored and reckless and wedded to routine. A soldier notes such
things."

Da Gama bowed. "I owe you much, General."

Shahji went on without acknowledging him. "The bridge is guarded by the hijra. It is the only access point to the zenana. You can see the private
harem tents through those trees. They put up those tall muslin screens to
keep things private. Those are the quarters of the Sultana and her ladies, and
of course the hijra servants. That is where your nautch girl stays as well."