Read Online The Temple Dancer by John Speed - Free Book Online

greet you," he
said in passable Portuguese. With that he gave a stiff but correct farang
bow, even giving his fingers a little flourish as he spread his arms. Rising, he
looked at Lucinda, Da Gama, and Geraldo, and with a sweep of his hand,
motioned them toward the door. The others understood that they were not
invited. Even so, Lucinda glanced at Maya, letting her embarrassment
show. Maya nodded, unconcerned.
    The servant led them down a dark corridor lit by high-flamed candles,
to a great hall, nearly empty except for a thronelike chair at the far end. He
bowed them through and latched the double doors behind them.
    The clack of Da Gama's boots on the wooden floor echoed from the high
ceiling. Beside the throne a half-dozen torches burned so bright that it was
hard to see who sat there. A mastiff resting at the man's feet stood and
growled as Da Gama approached, but the man clapped once and the dog sat.
    When they reached the throne, Da Gama bowed, sweeping his broadbrimmed hat. "I am Jebtha Da Gama at your service, senhor. Here are Geraldo Silveira and Lucinda Dasana. Your friend Carlos Dasana sends his best
wishes." Geraldo bowed as well, and Lucinda gave a curtsy.
    The man rose in answer. He was much smaller than Lucinda expected.
"In the name of the Blessed Virgin and of Jesus Christ our Savior I welcome
you to my humble dwelling." He had a thin voice and an unrecognizable accent. When he came forward to greet them, leaving the harsh glare of the
torches, it took Lucinda a moment to puzzle through what she was seeing.
    Fernando Anala was a Hindi.

    He wore the clothes of a Portuguese trader-the long coat, knee breeches,
leather shoes-in fact he was dressed almost exactly like Geraldo, but with
more gold braid. But he himself was tiny, dark, delicate-clearly a Hindi. She had seen Hindi women in European dress, but never a man. He reminded her of an organ-grinder's monkey.

    "I am Fernando Anala at your service," he said, now returning Da
Gama's bow. "I say that name with pride, for it was given to me when I became a Christian. But you must not call me senhor. ... as we share one Father; you must call me Brother Fernando." With that, Anala walked to Da
Gama and put his tiny arms around the soldado's chest. "Brother," he said,
embracing him. Da Gama looked too shocked to move. Anala then reached
Geraldo. "Brother," he whispered. Geraldo had recovered sufficiently to embrace him back.
    Anala now came to Lucinda. She could not take her eyes from his,
which glistened in the torchlight, radiant against his dark skin. He seemed
hesitant but excited as he placed his arms around her waist. "Sister," he
sighed, nestling his head against her breasts. His thinning, perfumed hair
had been pulled back into a queue, and Lucinda found herself looking
straight down on to his dark scalp while he clung to her.
    He stood there for a long time, stepping away only when Da Gama
cleared his throat. Even then he kept Lucinda's hand sandwiched between
his palms. She had always thought of her hands as delicate, but in his tiny
ring-covered fingers her hands seemed huge and clumsy.
    "My wife, Silvia, is also a Christian, of course," he said. His eyes fixed
on Lucinda. "She is honored that you will be her guest tonight. She waits
for you in the guesthouse." His fingers rubbed Lucinda's palm. "I'm sure
we men would only bore you with our talk."
    Lucinda lowered her eyes and nodded.
    "There are other women in your party?" He did not let go.
    "Just the bayadere," Da Gama said. Anala blinked as though the word
eluded him. "The nautch girl, I mean. The devadasi."
    At the last word, Anala's head flew up. "You have a devadasi with
you? No one told me." He seemed upset. Lucinda seized this opportunity
to slip her hand away, but still he held on. "I should have been informed."
    "The blame for the secrecy is mine, senhor. She's a gift to the grand
vizier.
    "Ahcha. Baksheesh. " He hissed when he said the word. Anala lifted